his messages. He hadn’t just posted dick pictures. Actually, he hadn’t posted any dick pictures.
None of the “connections” she’d accepted had dick pictures posted. If a guy was going to just put it all out there like that…well, no. Not what she was looking for.
“A coffee shop. So what got you interested in that?”
Looking in Loren’s eyes, she smiled. He had great eyes. The darkest, most amazing brown. “Would you believe a serious caffeine addiction? This way, I can be around it, drink it to my heart’s content…I can go to other coffee shops and drink it and call it researching the competition …” She grinned at him.
He chuckled. “You sound like me and my wine fixation. I
homebrew and I’ll go out of my way to hit a winery when I see one.”
He buffed his nails. “I gotta see how others are doing it, right?” Then
he winked at her.
“Oh. Absolutely.” She nodded to Pixie up on the stage and said,
“You ought to hear Pixie talking wine. She can wax on for hours. I barely know the difference between Pinot Noir and Pinot Blanc…except…well. I hate both.”
Loren arched his brows.
“Sorry.” She winced. “I like wine, it’s just the dry stuff…” She shuddered.
A low, easy laugh rolled out of him and he leaned forward, his biceps brushing against her arm. “That’s okay, beautiful. Besides, I’m not much for a Pinot Blanc myself. I won’t turn down a good Pinot Noir every now and then, but it’s not one of my favorites, either.”
He was easy to talk to. Why was it easy with him and yet, she fumbled for words with Noel and so many other guys, she wondered? Not all of them, but too many. Sitting around here, chatting with Loren wasn’t quite the same as it was with Decker, but then again… nobody was Decker.
“Want to dance?”
Jerking her mind away from it, she swallowed and slid a look out to the floor.
“It’s cool if you don’t.”
She looked back at him, saw by the look in his eyes he absolutely meant it.
“Yeah. I’d like to dance,” she said, more nervous by the idea than she liked. But if she was really going to try this dating thing, didn’t that include things like dancing?
• • •
“They’re dancing.”
Decker ignored Selah, instead focusing on the letter.
When Wanna Play had approved his application, he’d thought maybe it was a joke. Or a mistake. But then he’d set up his profile. He was told from the get-go that if he made any “connections”, they
would be notified that he had a criminal history and any connections,
at that time, could request more information.
He’d deal with that when it happened.
Because the site was indeed very social, he had dropped by the walls of a few, chatted with a couple of women, but for the most part, not that many tried to make a connection. The few who did, he just ignored them.
And focused on the big picture. On the woman who mattered.
Who had always mattered.
“ Carajo ! Decker, my friend,” Selah said, leaning closer so she could yell in his ear. “Whatever you’re doing…keep doing it.”
He shot a look up…and gripped his phone so tightly, the plastic casing threatened to crack.
They were on the far edge of the dance floor, outlined by the smoky blue light. And Loren—that was the fuck’s name—Loren had his hand fisted in Lizzie’s hair while his mouth was busy on hers. And Lizzie was clutching at him. He was kissing her senseless and Decker could tell, even from here, that she was enjoying it.
“Man, why you taking so long? She’s going to fall in love with somebody—for real, this time, if you keep waiting around,” Selah murmured.
He didn’t say anything. Just sat there. Stared.
Even when Loren stroked a hand down to rest low on Lizzie’s back, all he did was watch.
It wasn’t until they moved back into the flow of bodies that he let himself look away.
“Decker—”
“Stop,” he said, squeezing the words out as he stared at the screen. “I know
None of the “connections” she’d accepted had dick pictures posted. If a guy was going to just put it all out there like that…well, no. Not what she was looking for.
“A coffee shop. So what got you interested in that?”
Looking in Loren’s eyes, she smiled. He had great eyes. The darkest, most amazing brown. “Would you believe a serious caffeine addiction? This way, I can be around it, drink it to my heart’s content…I can go to other coffee shops and drink it and call it researching the competition …” She grinned at him.
He chuckled. “You sound like me and my wine fixation. I
homebrew and I’ll go out of my way to hit a winery when I see one.”
He buffed his nails. “I gotta see how others are doing it, right?” Then
he winked at her.
“Oh. Absolutely.” She nodded to Pixie up on the stage and said,
“You ought to hear Pixie talking wine. She can wax on for hours. I barely know the difference between Pinot Noir and Pinot Blanc…except…well. I hate both.”
Loren arched his brows.
“Sorry.” She winced. “I like wine, it’s just the dry stuff…” She shuddered.
A low, easy laugh rolled out of him and he leaned forward, his biceps brushing against her arm. “That’s okay, beautiful. Besides, I’m not much for a Pinot Blanc myself. I won’t turn down a good Pinot Noir every now and then, but it’s not one of my favorites, either.”
He was easy to talk to. Why was it easy with him and yet, she fumbled for words with Noel and so many other guys, she wondered? Not all of them, but too many. Sitting around here, chatting with Loren wasn’t quite the same as it was with Decker, but then again… nobody was Decker.
“Want to dance?”
Jerking her mind away from it, she swallowed and slid a look out to the floor.
“It’s cool if you don’t.”
She looked back at him, saw by the look in his eyes he absolutely meant it.
“Yeah. I’d like to dance,” she said, more nervous by the idea than she liked. But if she was really going to try this dating thing, didn’t that include things like dancing?
• • •
“They’re dancing.”
Decker ignored Selah, instead focusing on the letter.
When Wanna Play had approved his application, he’d thought maybe it was a joke. Or a mistake. But then he’d set up his profile. He was told from the get-go that if he made any “connections”, they
would be notified that he had a criminal history and any connections,
at that time, could request more information.
He’d deal with that when it happened.
Because the site was indeed very social, he had dropped by the walls of a few, chatted with a couple of women, but for the most part, not that many tried to make a connection. The few who did, he just ignored them.
And focused on the big picture. On the woman who mattered.
Who had always mattered.
“ Carajo ! Decker, my friend,” Selah said, leaning closer so she could yell in his ear. “Whatever you’re doing…keep doing it.”
He shot a look up…and gripped his phone so tightly, the plastic casing threatened to crack.
They were on the far edge of the dance floor, outlined by the smoky blue light. And Loren—that was the fuck’s name—Loren had his hand fisted in Lizzie’s hair while his mouth was busy on hers. And Lizzie was clutching at him. He was kissing her senseless and Decker could tell, even from here, that she was enjoying it.
“Man, why you taking so long? She’s going to fall in love with somebody—for real, this time, if you keep waiting around,” Selah murmured.
He didn’t say anything. Just sat there. Stared.
Even when Loren stroked a hand down to rest low on Lizzie’s back, all he did was watch.
It wasn’t until they moved back into the flow of bodies that he let himself look away.
“Decker—”
“Stop,” he said, squeezing the words out as he stared at the screen. “I know
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