lighting. Most of the stools are occupied by the corporate sorts that this place stands its reputation on.
She follows my motion with raised brows. “Ah, the plot thickens.”
“We’re all single and ready to mingle. You’re welcome.” I blow her a kiss.
Clea catches it, regardless of her sour expression. “As if you’re trying to score a date. You’re too preoccupied with Mr. Grumpy Pants.”
The nickname makes me snicker. “Do you mind if I steal that?”
“By all means,” she laughs.
The door crashes open with enough force to rattle every fixture in the joint. I’m in a direct line to the entrance, providing me with immediate gawking access. My eyes pop wide as the breath stalls in my lungs. “No fucking way.”
My friends whip around so fast their necks crack. Clea peeks over at me, wearing a broad grin that shows off her sparkling teeth. Oh, sure. Now she’s happy. “I think we conjured him from thin air.”
“Or the fiery pits of hell,” I correct.
As if hearing my disbelief, Landon swings his gaze to our booth. His eyes lock on mine—of course—and a sly smirk cuts into his steely mask. I shouldn’t be shocked by him appearing unexpectedly. That seems to be his method of madness. He strides toward us with a predator’s lethal grace, zeroing in on me like a freaking bullseye.
Presley perks up from her self-induced timeout. “Oh, this just got interesting.”
“Thanks a lot,” I mutter.
Landon reaches the edge of our table in seven long strides. It was easy to count—each clip from his shiny loafers bangs louder than a snare drum. My freaking ears are ringing as he surveys our seating arrangement.
His gaze latches to Clea and Presley, who are still gaping at him. “Hello, ladies.”
“Well, hey there. This is quite a… coincidence.” Clea looks at me with that last word.
I’m busy digesting the odds of this happening organically. Those calculations are smashing into each other and causing a ruckus I can’t process over. A loud whistle blares from inside me, stealing all traces of my composure.
“You.” My voice betrays me, bleeding emotions all over the floor.
The man receiving my wrath doesn’t so much as flaring a nostril. “Me.”
“What’re you doing here?” The accusation should sting his cheek with the amount of force I slap on.
Without asking—or gaining permission—the asshole plops down on my side of the bench and forces me to scoot in. “Taking a load off after a long day. I appreciate you saving me a seat.”
It takes two seconds too long for the smoke to clear from my mind. He’s already making himself at home with an arm resting along the top of the booth. I elbow him, but my efforts are in vain.
“We didn’t,” I insist.
Landon ignores me. “It sure is fancy finding you here.”
“Is it really? I’m at this bar often enough. Brogen Realty is a block away.”
“I had no idea.” In this low lighting, his eyes resemble melted chocolate. A gurgle bubbles in my stomach as he submerges me in those brown depths. It’s a cruel trick that this man claiming to despise emotion harbors such an expressive stare. If he weren’t already on my shit list, ruining another favorite for me would get him a fast pass straight to the top.
“Lying will set your pants on fire,” I warn.
“How thrilling.” His chuckle is blended with warmth, rather than the usual glacial tones.
Presley cups a hand near her jaw, turning so her lips are hidden from Landon’s view. “He’s so hot,” she mouths.
The man in mention laughs louder beside me, clearly seeing her so-called private message. “Thanks, beautiful.”
Then he winks at her. What the actual fuck?
I scowl. “Quit hitting on my friend.”
“Would you prefer I reserve my affections for you?” He pins me with a smolder I can feel in my lower belly.
“Who in the hell are you and what have you done with Landon Winters?” I slash a hand down the space between us. “Scratch that. Are you following me?”
“Now who’s being presumptuous?”
He’s resorting to throwing my words back at me. Again. I swivel in my seat, attempting to escape his magnetism. “It’s highly suspect that you just so happen to arrive at the same bar I’m in.”
Landon hooks a thumb at me while addressing the girls sitting across from us. “Is she always this snooty?”
Presley wags a finger at him. “Don’t make me regret complimenting your sexy face.”
It’s about time she abandons the Landon fan club.
“How about you answer my question?” I paste on a smile for good measure.