drink this before you fall down. Why do you keep looking at that jerk in the corner?”
Chloe slugged back half the bottle of springwater before coming up for air. “Cuz he’s a total hottie…. Check out those forearms.” In addition to those Popeye arms, he was older than the usual crowd. Aloof. Like some kind of feral cat she wanted to tame.
“I don’t like the look of him,” Sophia said. “He seems like the kind of man who would follow you to your car and—“
“Oh, he does not! ” It was only natural for Sophia to be protective. After all, Sophia was one of the few people who knew what’d happened to Chloe from firsthand experience, not because she saw it on the news. But tonight, Chloe wanted to live on the wild side. “He just needs someone to scruff up his hair, rumple his uniform and rock his world.”
To prove her point, Chloe sauntered over to the stranger’s table. The houselights were up and Chloe noticed the rank insignia on his collar—a captain’s eagle. A hotshot. An officer. But apparently, not a gentleman. He didn’t stand up. Didn’t offer her a seat. Just stared and took a long swallow from the clear liquid in his glass. And what the hell was he drinking anyway? Sparkling water?
“So, listen Captain America, what’s your deal?” Chloe asked, toweling off the back of her neck. “Are you stalking me?”
“You could say that.” He moved over in the booth so she could join him and she noticed a little silver-gray hair at each temple. She really liked that because, in her experience, older guys were just as sexy as the younger ones, but without all the bullshit.
She ordered a beer, then slid in beside him, her leather skirt sticking to the vinyl and riding up her long legs. Now that she was close to him, she was a little self-conscious. Singing and dancing on stage was sweaty work. But given the way his glance drifted down the curves of her body, she didn’t figure he minded. It was the first sign that he had any interest in her at all, so Chloe gave him her best come-hither smile—the one that sent most men to their knees—and went for small talk. “So, are you a fan?”
He stared straight at her with sea-colored eyes. “No. I’m not a fan. I don’t like how you use your voice.”
Wow. That was blunt. As her smile fell away, Chloe tried not to let him see how it stung. “What’s the problem? Is my rock music too loud for you, Grandpa?”
His expression took on a dangerous edge as he glanced at his sweating water glass. With a slow stroke, he traced a finger around the rim and a low hum reverberated across the table. “I’m a bit of a musician myself, you know.”
“Yeah? What does a guy like you play? The skin flute?”
He didn’t even smirk. “Let’s just say, you’re not the only one with a killer voice, Ms. Karras.”
Now, how the hell did he know her last name? She never used it in promotions. “It’s Chloe. Just Chloe . Like Shakira or Pink or Madonna. Am I supposed to know you, or something?”
“I’m Captain Alex Shore, a naval historian at the Academy”
Awesome. The only guys more uptight than military officers were academics. Was there anyone less appropriate for her to be attracted to? “Sorry, Captain Alex, but your name doesn’t ring a bell.”
Across the room, beneath the wild murals and brass accents, Chloe saw that Sophia had hooked up with her drummer. They were both now making out in the corner. Well, at least someone was going to get lucky tonight. Meanwhile, Captain Alex reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out two photos, and set them down on the table. “What about these sailors? Seeing them ring any bells?”
Chloe squinted, and made out the faces of two midshipmen in Navy coats and white caps. She recognized them, and not just from the news. “Aren’t those the two dumb-asses who got drunk and decided to take a midnight swim? Way to take yourself out of the gene pool.”
“I expected a little compassion from a former
Chloe slugged back half the bottle of springwater before coming up for air. “Cuz he’s a total hottie…. Check out those forearms.” In addition to those Popeye arms, he was older than the usual crowd. Aloof. Like some kind of feral cat she wanted to tame.
“I don’t like the look of him,” Sophia said. “He seems like the kind of man who would follow you to your car and—“
“Oh, he does not! ” It was only natural for Sophia to be protective. After all, Sophia was one of the few people who knew what’d happened to Chloe from firsthand experience, not because she saw it on the news. But tonight, Chloe wanted to live on the wild side. “He just needs someone to scruff up his hair, rumple his uniform and rock his world.”
To prove her point, Chloe sauntered over to the stranger’s table. The houselights were up and Chloe noticed the rank insignia on his collar—a captain’s eagle. A hotshot. An officer. But apparently, not a gentleman. He didn’t stand up. Didn’t offer her a seat. Just stared and took a long swallow from the clear liquid in his glass. And what the hell was he drinking anyway? Sparkling water?
“So, listen Captain America, what’s your deal?” Chloe asked, toweling off the back of her neck. “Are you stalking me?”
“You could say that.” He moved over in the booth so she could join him and she noticed a little silver-gray hair at each temple. She really liked that because, in her experience, older guys were just as sexy as the younger ones, but without all the bullshit.
She ordered a beer, then slid in beside him, her leather skirt sticking to the vinyl and riding up her long legs. Now that she was close to him, she was a little self-conscious. Singing and dancing on stage was sweaty work. But given the way his glance drifted down the curves of her body, she didn’t figure he minded. It was the first sign that he had any interest in her at all, so Chloe gave him her best come-hither smile—the one that sent most men to their knees—and went for small talk. “So, are you a fan?”
He stared straight at her with sea-colored eyes. “No. I’m not a fan. I don’t like how you use your voice.”
Wow. That was blunt. As her smile fell away, Chloe tried not to let him see how it stung. “What’s the problem? Is my rock music too loud for you, Grandpa?”
His expression took on a dangerous edge as he glanced at his sweating water glass. With a slow stroke, he traced a finger around the rim and a low hum reverberated across the table. “I’m a bit of a musician myself, you know.”
“Yeah? What does a guy like you play? The skin flute?”
He didn’t even smirk. “Let’s just say, you’re not the only one with a killer voice, Ms. Karras.”
Now, how the hell did he know her last name? She never used it in promotions. “It’s Chloe. Just Chloe . Like Shakira or Pink or Madonna. Am I supposed to know you, or something?”
“I’m Captain Alex Shore, a naval historian at the Academy”
Awesome. The only guys more uptight than military officers were academics. Was there anyone less appropriate for her to be attracted to? “Sorry, Captain Alex, but your name doesn’t ring a bell.”
Across the room, beneath the wild murals and brass accents, Chloe saw that Sophia had hooked up with her drummer. They were both now making out in the corner. Well, at least someone was going to get lucky tonight. Meanwhile, Captain Alex reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out two photos, and set them down on the table. “What about these sailors? Seeing them ring any bells?”
Chloe squinted, and made out the faces of two midshipmen in Navy coats and white caps. She recognized them, and not just from the news. “Aren’t those the two dumb-asses who got drunk and decided to take a midnight swim? Way to take yourself out of the gene pool.”
“I expected a little compassion from a former
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