as if making sure. Her voice was a little hard, her dark eyes narrowing.
Worried she had an ex with the same name, he replied, “I’ll answer to anything you want to call me.”
“Anything?”
He nodded, unable to take his attention from that bit of flour in her hair. He wanted to lift his hand and brush it away. Then sink his fingers in that thick brown hair of hers, tugging it free of its ponytail to fall in a loose curtain around her shoulders. His fingers clenched into fists at his sides with the need to tangle those thick tresses in his hands and tug her face toward his for a brain-zapping kiss.
She had the kind of mouth that begged for kissing. One that promised pleasure. God, it had been a long time since he’d really kissed a woman the way he liked to kiss a woman. Slowly. Deeply. With a thorough exploration of every curve and crevice.
Recently, his sex life had been limited by proximity and his active status. He hadn’t had any kind of relationship in years. And the sex he had was usually of the quick, one-night variety, where slow, indulgent kissing wasn’t on the agenda.
He could kiss this woman’s mouth for hours.
Nick didn’t understand why he was so drawn to her. All he knew was that he was attracted to her in a way he hadn’t been attracted to anyone for a long time. Not just because she was beautiful under the apron and that messy ponytail. But because of the wistful, lonely look she’d worn earlier that said she didn’t quite belong here and she knew it. Just like the one he’d had on his face lately.
“You’re single?” he asked, wanting that confirmed.
She nodded, the movement setting her ponytail swinging. It caught the reflection of a candle on the closest table, the strands glimmering in a veil of browns and golds that made his heart clang against his lungs.
“What’s your name?” he finally asked.
She arched one fine eyebrow. “We haven’t settled on what we’re going to call you yet.”
He turned, edging closer to her as a group came into the restaurant. The brunette slid along the wall, farther away from anyone else. Nick followed, irresistibly drawn by her scent and the mystery in her eyes. “I guess you have a Nick in your past?”
“Uh-huh.”
“It didn’t go well?”
“I’d have to say that’s a no.”
“Bad breakup?”
“No. We never even dated.” One side of her mouth tilted up in a half smile. It held no happiness, merely jaded amusement. “He barely even noticed my existence.”
“Then he was an idiot.”
The other side of her mouth came up; this time her genuine amusement shone clearly. “Oh, undoubtedly.”
“He didn’t deserve you.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You’re better off without him.”
“Nobody knows that better than me.” She sounded more amused now, as if her guard was coming down.
“Enough about him,” Nick said. “If you don’t like my first name, call me by my last one. It’s Santori.”
He watched for a flare of surprise, a darting of the eyes to the sign in the window, proclaiming the name of the place.
Strangely, she didn’t react at all. “I think we’ve already determined what I should call you. You said it yourself.”
Puzzled, Nick just waited.
“Idiot,” she said, tapping the tip of her finger on her cheek, as if thinking about it. “Though, honestly, it doesn’t quite capture you now. It might have sufficed years ago, but for today, I think we’ll have to go with...complete shithead.”
Nick’s jaw fell open. But the sexy brunette wasn’t finished. “By the way, that number you wanted? Here it is, you might want to write it down...1-800-nevergonnahappen.”
And without another word, she shoved at his chest, pushing him out of the way, then strode out the door. Leaving Nick standing there, staring after her in complete shock.
“I’d say that didn’t go well.” Mark stood right behind him, watching—as was Nick—as the brunette marched off down the street like she’d just kicked somebody’s ass.
Well, she had. Namely his. He just didn’t know why.
“No kidding.”
“I see you haven’t lost your touch with women.”
“Shut up.” Shaking his head in bemusement, he lifted a hand and rubbed his jaw. “I don’t know how I blew that so badly.”
“But you sure managed to do it.”
Hearing his twin chuckle, Nick glared. “At least I’m not wearing a ring. I can still try to pick up a hot stranger.”
Mark just laughed harder. Which made Nick consider punching him. Only, Mama was standing behind the counter, glancing curiously at them as she waited on