wood surface in front of her redirected her attention. “Top shelf tequila,” the bartender explained, then nodded at the pair in Hawaiian shirts. “From your buddies.” He also slid over another wedge of lime and nudged forward the salt.
“I’ll take that,” the guy in orange said, scooping up the shaker and shouldering his friend away from Layla. Catching her eye, he lifted his hand and made a loose fist. Then he wet the skin between his thumb and forefinger with his tongue. “Lick the salt off me, Cupcake Girl, it’ll make your tequila shooter so much tastier.”
A strangled sound came from the other side of Layla. Vance reached across her, snatching the shaker from the other man. He was standing now, drawn to his full height of six foot three, all the muscles he had from packing pounds of equipment and weapons radiating threat. “Can it, buddy. The only man she’ll be licking is me.”
She might have laughed, but he didn’t seem the least bit aware of the suggestiveness of his remark. Neither Hawaiian-shirted guy found it amusing, either. Hands up, they backed away, murmuring all the while. “No offense” and “Sorry to bother you” and “Didn’t mean to trespass.”
Layla turned her head toward Vance. Even though the innocuous duo was walking away, he didn’t relax his posture. He stood there, glaring at them until they disappeared in the crowd, all junkyard dog.
Or older brother.
Her ire rose as he settled back onto his stool. How dare he...
She couldn’t decide exactly how she wanted to end that sentence. She only knew she couldn’t stand his guardian act any more than she could stand his cool control any more than she could stand this ridiculous attraction to him she couldn’t seem to stifle—and he’d been engaged just a short time ago! He was in love with someone else!
Her gaze settled on the saltshaker that he’d placed in front of her. The only man she’ll be licking is me. Without giving herself time for second thoughts, she grabbed it up at the same moment she grabbed Vance’s left hand. The cast covered part of it, but she didn’t let that stop her. Before he could have a chance to yank away, she leaned down and licked a wet line across his knuckles. Then she dashed the salt there, tongued up the granules and knocked back the tequila.
Feeling triumphant, she dropped the empty glass, bit into the lime and met the gaze of her “big brother.”
Her mood died as she saw the bright smolder in his eyes. The wedge of citrus fell from her limp fingers as she watched him reclaim his hand. Without breaking her gaze, he ran his own tongue across his knuckles, licking up the remaining salt granules—taking the same path as hers.
She shivered, his gesture like a stroke of wet velvet against her own skin. Goose bumps rose on her spine and feathered along the ticklish skin covering her ribs. Her intent had been to poke at him. To shake him up like he’d shaken her at the idea that he’d been engaged. That he was in love with some other woman. She’d wanted to rattle him because she despised being looked upon like a little sister.
But the blue fire in his eyes told the true story. Vance didn’t think of her as a sibling any more than she thought of him as a brother.
He was just better at hiding it.
* * *
A LONE, V ANCE STRODE from Captain Crow’s toward Beach House No. 9. Addy had been located and she’d shared the information that Baxter had recently departed for home and that she’d be returning to No. 9 just as soon as she gave her old college pals a brief tour of the Sunrise Pictures memorabilia stash. Layla was trailing in Vance’s wake, but he wasn’t inclined to slow for her. He needed to put distance between them.
Again.
On the way to the bar, he’d thought the buffer of the crowd would provide that distance, but then he’d caught sight of the raucous mob. Instinct had warned there was trouble brewing. Someone was going to spill a drink on Layla, he’d thought.
“I’ll take that,” the guy in orange said, scooping up the shaker and shouldering his friend away from Layla. Catching her eye, he lifted his hand and made a loose fist. Then he wet the skin between his thumb and forefinger with his tongue. “Lick the salt off me, Cupcake Girl, it’ll make your tequila shooter so much tastier.”
A strangled sound came from the other side of Layla. Vance reached across her, snatching the shaker from the other man. He was standing now, drawn to his full height of six foot three, all the muscles he had from packing pounds of equipment and weapons radiating threat. “Can it, buddy. The only man she’ll be licking is me.”
She might have laughed, but he didn’t seem the least bit aware of the suggestiveness of his remark. Neither Hawaiian-shirted guy found it amusing, either. Hands up, they backed away, murmuring all the while. “No offense” and “Sorry to bother you” and “Didn’t mean to trespass.”
Layla turned her head toward Vance. Even though the innocuous duo was walking away, he didn’t relax his posture. He stood there, glaring at them until they disappeared in the crowd, all junkyard dog.
Or older brother.
Her ire rose as he settled back onto his stool. How dare he...
She couldn’t decide exactly how she wanted to end that sentence. She only knew she couldn’t stand his guardian act any more than she could stand his cool control any more than she could stand this ridiculous attraction to him she couldn’t seem to stifle—and he’d been engaged just a short time ago! He was in love with someone else!
Her gaze settled on the saltshaker that he’d placed in front of her. The only man she’ll be licking is me. Without giving herself time for second thoughts, she grabbed it up at the same moment she grabbed Vance’s left hand. The cast covered part of it, but she didn’t let that stop her. Before he could have a chance to yank away, she leaned down and licked a wet line across his knuckles. Then she dashed the salt there, tongued up the granules and knocked back the tequila.
Feeling triumphant, she dropped the empty glass, bit into the lime and met the gaze of her “big brother.”
Her mood died as she saw the bright smolder in his eyes. The wedge of citrus fell from her limp fingers as she watched him reclaim his hand. Without breaking her gaze, he ran his own tongue across his knuckles, licking up the remaining salt granules—taking the same path as hers.
She shivered, his gesture like a stroke of wet velvet against her own skin. Goose bumps rose on her spine and feathered along the ticklish skin covering her ribs. Her intent had been to poke at him. To shake him up like he’d shaken her at the idea that he’d been engaged. That he was in love with some other woman. She’d wanted to rattle him because she despised being looked upon like a little sister.
But the blue fire in his eyes told the true story. Vance didn’t think of her as a sibling any more than she thought of him as a brother.
He was just better at hiding it.
* * *
A LONE, V ANCE STRODE from Captain Crow’s toward Beach House No. 9. Addy had been located and she’d shared the information that Baxter had recently departed for home and that she’d be returning to No. 9 just as soon as she gave her old college pals a brief tour of the Sunrise Pictures memorabilia stash. Layla was trailing in Vance’s wake, but he wasn’t inclined to slow for her. He needed to put distance between them.
Again.
On the way to the bar, he’d thought the buffer of the crowd would provide that distance, but then he’d caught sight of the raucous mob. Instinct had warned there was trouble brewing. Someone was going to spill a drink on Layla, he’d thought.
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