Wild Open Hearts (Bluewater Billionaires) - Kathryn Nolan Page 0,49
shook her hand. He didn’t smile but he wasn’t frowning.
“What’s your name, sir?”
“Stu. Stuart.”
“Very chill vibe in here,” she said. “Like 90s-era grunge but more intentional. I love it. It’s like watching a Nirvana music video.”
I thought Stu might turn his back on her and leave. But he leaned in. “Back in the day, I got into grunge myself. You?”
“Former grunge girl all the way. I love a flannel shirt, you know?”
He flipped the towel from his shoulder and mopped at a spot on his greasy bar. “Good eye. What do you do, Luna?”
He said Luna like he’d never heard such a strange word.
“I own one of the largest makeup companies in the world.”
He narrowed one eye like a pirate. “Huh.”
“Would you take a picture with me?” she asked.
“Yeah, okay,” Stu said. I glanced behind me to make sure no other signs of the apocalypse were coming our way. Luna flipped her phone, pursed her lips and flashed the peace sign like a pro. Stu’s smile was more grimace but it was definitely a smile. Maybe the first I’d seen on his face in my two decades of drinking here.
“I love it,” she cheered. “Now can I grab two shots of your finest whiskey and two bottles of your most expensive Heineken?”
“I’ve got a bottle of Macallan I haven’t opened,” Stu said, coughing around his shock.
“Put in on my tab, kind sir.”
When she turned back around, braid swinging, I had to hold my jaw closed.
Stu slid the whiskey our way—I’d never had Macallan in all my years of whiskey drinking. Luna clinked our glasses together. “To Sunshine,” she said regally.
Then I watched Luna da Rosa sip a shot of $350 whiskey like she was born doing it.
While wearing my shirt.
All the blood in my body rushed south.
“Drink, Beck,” she said, laughing.
I did as I was told.
It was the finest liquor I’d ever tasted.
“Fuck me,” I said.
“Delicious, right?”
Luna leaned all the way across the bar, giving me a full view of the gorgeous curves of her ass. I was starting to develop a fetish for floral yoga pants.
“Stu, I’m stealing these,” she said, grabbing two pink drink umbrellas. He slid us Heinekens, which she scooped up.
“Join me on the beach?” she asked.
“Sure.”
Then she twirled around, waved to Stu, and waltzed back outside toward the ocean.
“That lady famous or somethin’?” Stu asked.
“She is,” I said.
“I like her.” He tossed the rag back over his shoulder and proceeded to yell at a man in the back. I reached forward, grabbed another drink umbrella to give to her.
Tried to quiet the voice in my head that echoed Stu’s words.
I liked her too.
Another bad idea.
28
Luna
“This is the only way I like to truly enjoy a beer courtesy of Heineken,” I told Beck. I’d dragged the man over to a picnic bench facing the Atlantic Ocean, waves a frothy peach as the sun began its long descent behind us. Then I told him to wait a few minutes while I procured some extra-special provisions from the food truck across the street.
Now I was sitting barefoot and cross-legged with a plate on my lap and the beer to my right.
“What is this?” Beck asked.
“Alchemy.” I nudged his shoulder with mine. “My favorite food stand right over there sells mango on a stick. It’s dusted with chili powder and sea salt.” I picked up the stick, tugged the sweet fruit free. Licked the salt and chili powder from my fingers while keeping my eyes on his blue ones.
“Lick the salt. Eat the mango. Drink the beer.”
He reached forward, mimicked my motions. I watched his lips, closing around the sticky fruit. And it was probably that same lightness I’d been feeling, combined with the adrenaline, the handsome man next to me, the scent of his shirt, the sunset—but I held my salt-and-chili-powder fingers out to him.
“Lick,” I said.
His gaze informed me I was now playing with fire.
Which was fine by me. I was a child of the earth, a worshiper of the natural elements.
Fire didn’t scare me.
Fire intrigued me.
Beck Mason wrapped his thick fingers around my wrist and brought my fingers to his mouth. He sucked the tip of my index finger between lips that were soft, powerful. I felt his tongue—warm—curl around the digit.
“Delicious,” he rasped.
“Now drink your beer, boss,” I replied. I was going to have to remember every detail of this night so I could relay it at Mordecai’s Bistro to Emily, Cameron and Daisy. They would be so proud.