Embarrassed by her reaction, Leah sipped her margarita and pretended an interest in the bluegrass band sawing merrily away across the room. The whisper of a sophisticated male scent alerted her when the man approached.
He stopped close by. “Mind if I join you?” To counter the loud music, he leaned over and spoke in her ear.
Leah’s skin prickled. “Please do.”
She’d applied for teaching positions in Austin and Seattle because she wanted more out of life than Downhome, Tennessee, had to offer. This was her first real adventure, and she intended to enjoy it.
“I’m Will.” The man extended his hand.
“Leah.” When they shook, she felt the restrained strength in his arm. “Do you come here often?”
“To the Wayward Drummer? Not as often as I’d like. Great, isn’t it?” Swinging into the seat, he ordered a scotch and soda. “How about you?”
“I’m new in town. A friend told me about it.” The music rose to a crescendo, cutting off further comments.
Her companion rested his elbows behind him on the bar. No ring on his left hand, she observed, although that didn’t prove anything.
The song ended. After the applause died, the bandleader announced the group was taking a short break. “Good,” Leah said. “I mean, I was enjoying it, but I’d rather talk.”
“So would I,” the man replied. “But first I have a request.”
“Oh?” Intrigued, she waited.
“Let’s not pigeonhole each other.” His gaze penetrated her defenses. “I don’t care where you work or what your astrological sign is. I’d rather find out who you are as a person.”
“Agreed!” Leah was glad to avoid being pegged as a small-town schoolteacher. “Now I have a question.”
“Shoot.” Although the bartender had set down his drink, Will ignored it and kept his eyes on Leah.
“Are you married?” A cheater wouldn’t necessarily tell the truth, but she had to make the effort.
“Used to be. Not anymore.” As if finally noticing the scotch, he picked up the glass and tossed down a quick swallow before adding, “That question says a lot about you.”
“It does?” She hoped she didn’t sound naive.
Will slanted her a teasing glance. “It tells me you’re interested in me, which I like. And it goes straight to the point.”
Leah waited a beat. He didn’t continue, so she said, “How come you’re not asking whether I’m married?”
He laughed, which made him look ten years younger. “Because it never occurred to me. You don’t strike me as the kind of woman who plays around. Are you?”
“Of course not!”
When his hand cupped hers on the bar, Leah could scarcely swallow. She didn’t understand why she was reacting so powerfully, except for the fact that she hadn’t dated anyone seriously in the ten years since college. Or maybe because the guy had more mystery about him than anyone she’d ever met.
“Tell me your fantasy,” he said in a low voice. “What kind of guy you want. The boy next door to settle down with?”
Being asked to put her longing into words was scary. “No. Someone exciting. Different. Someone who sets me free.”
His mouth twisted. “That’s a tall order.”
“Think you can fill it?” She couldn’t believe she’d said that.
The challenge seemed to amuse him. “Until I walked in here and saw your beautiful smile, I’d have had my doubts.” Will gave an easy shrug. “I can be anything you want. It’s your call.”
Leah bit her lip. She hadn’t told him the rest of the fantasy. It involved a lingering seduction by a stranger. But she suspected he’d guessed that.
This flirtation was crazy—dangerous and irresponsible. She knew nothing about Will, not even his last name. On the other hand, he knew nothing about her, either. Like how boring and conventional most people considered her.
“I’ll bet you could,” she mused.
“Could what?”
She peered around to make sure no one else overheard. “Could be anything a woman wanted,” she finished.
When his eyes widened, she imagined for an instant that she saw right inside him. She’d touched him in a way he hadn’t expected, awakening something he hadn’t felt in years.
Leah trusted her instincts. She had a knack for reading people.
“What are we going to do about this?” Will asked.
“You mean tonight?” But of course it had to be tonight. Leah was leaving tomorrow for a job interview in Seattle. While she would return if she got one of the jobs she’d applied for, there was no guarantee of that. And no guarantee that he’d be around if she did.
“Wait.” He held up one hand. “I’m not trying to pressure you. Hey, we’re both enjoying ourselves. Maybe it’s enough that we’re having this conversation. I don’t mean to ruin it.”
He’d noted her hesitation, Leah thought. She wasn’t the only one good at reading people.
Another couple sat down two stools away, making her self-conscious about speaking up, and then the band filtered back from its break. Will appeared content to sit wordlessly as the musicians launched into another set.
She ought to be glad he respected her, Leah supposed. Instead, she struggled with disappointment and, at the same time, an aching awareness of him beside her. She drank in details: the muscles of his wrist beneath a thick silver watchband, a trace of roughness on his jaw that he’d missed while shaving.
She wished she dared ask the questions they’d skipped. What kind of work he did. How his marriage had ended.
When he shifted on the seat, his tight shoulders revealed tension. All along, without realizing it, she’d been detecting signs of restless energy and coiled need.
A need she realized she could release.
He turned sharply, his gaze boring into hers. A silent query disturbed the air as clearly as if he’d put it into words.
Was she as ready as he was?
Yes, she thought, her lips parting. Oh, yes.
On the far side of the room, a fiddler attacked his instrument with passion. Leah only half heard the notes wailing to the rafters. Her heart rate sped up and fire danced across her skin as Will stroked her hair. When he removed his hand, she felt a physical sense of loss.
She set down her glass, and he did the same. As they got up, he tossed some bills onto the counter and took her arm.
They made their way into a steamy July night. “I’m parked around back,” she said. “You, too?”
He nodded. As they reached the lot, out of sight of other patrons, he caught Leah’s arm.
She touched his shoulder and her face tilted upward. As he drank in the sight of her, his thumb traced her cheek and hairline. Then his mouth found hers.
Leah reveled in his eager kiss, in the caress trailing down her waist, in his spicy lime scent. When he cupped her bottom and brought her against his hardness, she thought she might melt.
Will lifted his head. “Are you sure about this?”
Leah rested her head on his shoulder. He was the perfect height, perhaps five inches taller, so she fit against him as if they’d been sculpted from the same block of marble. “Yes.”
“I’ll