Grinning, he propped an elbow on the counter. “Seeing how ticked off he was, I’m wondering how you were going to let him out of there. Did you realize you had a tiger by the tail?”
“Not until I slammed the door. I owe you for arriving when you did.”
“Then how ’bout that drink? I’m thinking a margarita, top shelf. Cuervo Gold.”
She felt a new rush of nerves. “Oh, I don’t—”
He straightened up with a pained look. “Please don’t say it. You don’t drink.”
“I do, but—”
“Good. There’s a quiet little bar about three blocks away. You can follow me in your car or I’ll drop you back here when we’re done.”
A few minutes ago, when she’d turned and found Hunter and not Jason at her back, she’d been surprised by her reaction. In his battered leather jacket, his worn jeans and boots, he’d looked a lot more dark and dangerous than Michael, who’d just assaulted her. But it wasn’t fear that had streaked through her. Just the opposite. Something more elemental and exciting. She wasn’t used to reacting to a man in that way, and had almost forgotten what it was like.
“I’ll follow in my car,” she said. And without giving herself time for second thoughts, she walked with him to the door.
Five
Hunter picked a booth toward the back of the bar for its privacy. This was his first opportunity to spend one-on-one time with Erica and he intended to make the most of it. Since buying the jacket, he hadn’t been able to put her out of his mind. He wasn’t sure what it was about her, but sitting across from her now, he knew he didn’t want to be anywhere else at the moment.
When their margaritas were set in front of them, he lifted his, waited for her and then touched his glass to hers. He’d like to say something she’d find sexy and charming, but he had a feeling she was a woman who wouldn’t appreciate anything that sounded like a practiced line, and besides, she struck him as needing a slow hand. He had a feeling, too, that it would be worth the wait. “To a new financial adviser,” he said.
“Absolutely.” She took a dainty taste. A bit of salt clung to her lip and she licked it off. As he watched her, it was all he could do not to reach out and maybe run his thumb over the enticing curve of her lower lip, then bring it up to his lips for a taste of her.
“Hmm, that’s good,” she said. “Tart-sweet and smooth as silk.”
“It hits the spot,” he agreed.
“The margaritas are so good here. In fact, Jason and I often stop after we close the shop. I can only have one, though. Two and there’s no way I would be able to do any work when I get home.”
“What kind of work is waiting for you at home?”
“New designs. For the jackets, there’s always next season to be working on. The quilts are not seasonal, but I can duplicate a design only a few times, so I have to keep coming up with new ones. I’ve been amazed at how well they sell, but it means I feel pushed to keep ahead of the demand.”
“Couldn’t someone else work at the shop? Besides Jason, I mean. That would leave you free to create new designs during the day.”
“Not really. My studio is upstairs, which is where a lot of the actual physical labor is done and, to tell the truth, it doesn’t seem like work. But I don’t like selling so much. That’s Jason’s thing.” She shrugged and smiled. “I’m cranking out the product and he sells it. For us, it’s been a winning combination.”
“Let me get this straight,” he said, hitching his chair forward. He’d like to take her hand, but he sensed she’d shy away from anything approaching intimacy. “You spend your days at your studio above the shop, then you work on creating new designs in the evenings at home. When do you have time to socialize?”
“I guess I don’t have much of a social life.” She was sitting with elbows on the table, holding the margarita loosely in both hands, but as he leaned closer, she eased back, pushing at her dark hair and tucking a strand behind one ear. “It’s not the way many people would choose to live, but it suits me.”
“My mother mentioned one of your creations will be auctioned at the gala next weekend. That should generate even more demand.”
“It’s incredible. I don’t know how that happened, I really don’t. I had a call from the auction chairperson just out of the blue. I was thrilled as it certainly is a golden opportunity.”
“No inside connections, huh?”
“At the symphony?” She smiled. “No. I haven’t even been to the symphony in years, not since—” She stopped and, with a stricken look, quickly reached for the napkin and touched it to her lips. When she raised her eyes to his a moment later, they were calm and clear. “Are you a fan?”
“Not really. My mother used to nag me about going, but I liked baseball better.” He decided not to try digging out the reason for whatever that look meant, at least not right now. “You’ll be there when they auction your jacket, I assume?” When she nodded, he added, “Do you have a date?”
“A date?”
“An escort. You’re not going alone to the gala, are you?”
“Oh, no. Jason and I are going together. He’s almost as excited as I am.”
“You and Jason are very tight.”
“We are.” She twirled the stem of her drink and smiled. “He’s not only my business partner, but he’s also my best friend. In fact, the shop was his brainchild. I’d still be designing in the spare bedroom of my house and squirreling everything away in a closet if he hadn’t practically shoved me out of that house and back into the real world.”
“What was going on that you’d retreated from the real world?”
She stopped and actually pressed her fingers to her lips. “I’m talking too much. I don’t—it’s the margarita.” She fiddled with her napkin, hesitating so long that he thought she wouldn’t say any more. He guessed she’d probably gone through a rough divorce and he wondered at the stupidity of a man to let a woman like her get away.
“It was a dark time for me,” she explained finally. “I’d thrown myself into designing to keep from…simply dying.” She gave a soft laugh. “That sounds pretty melodramatic, but that was how I felt at the time.”
“Was it a nasty divorce?”
Her face went quiet and sad. “No.” After a second, she looked up at him. “Could we change the subject?”
“I have an idea.”
She gave him a skeptical look. “Okay, so long as we change the subject.”
“It’s changed.” He held up both hands. “You come to the gala with me and let Jason find himself a real date.”
“Thanks, but I think I’ll stick with my original plan.” She gave him a smile as if to take the sting out of her refusal.
“Why am I not surprised?” he said dryly. Leaning back, he laid an arm over the back of the seat. “But just so I have the full picture here, you’re not involved with anyone right now, are you?”
She took a tiny sip of her drink. “Under the circumstances, anyone who was seriously interested wouldn’t be very long, would they?”
“Depends on the circumstances.”
Her smile faded as she studied the remains of the margarita in her glass. “My days are crammed with the demands