One night stand with my daddy's best friend

Ava

I squeezed through the crowd and made it to the bar. “Two beers, please.”

Linea stopped beside me, breathless, hands on the counter, tapping her fingers. “Yes, two.”

“Each?” The bartender raised a brow and looked between us. “Yes, each. We’re both thirsty and need relief,” Linea deadpanned. He got her meaning and left to fill our order.

“God, you can be so mean sometimes.” “What?” She rolled her eyes. “He asked for it.”

“Just cut him some slack. We’ll be needing him to fill our drink orders a lot tonight.”

“Speak for yourself.” Her face scrunched up. “I don't think I'll down half of one bottle.”

“Let's make a bet. You'll be feeling no pain by the end of the night.” “You’re on.”

Four ice-cold beers were placed on the counter, and we each grabbed two. “I'll show you, Ava,” she told me, then said to the bartender, “Thank

you.”

I surveyed the crowd, eyes out for a booth. “See? He smiled at me. I'm nice.”

“I didn't see it.”

“Should I go sweet-talk him again? You have to watch this time.”

“Or we could grab the booth that just emptied." I nodded to the space a couple had just left.

“Yes!” Linea raced ahead. “Go, go, go.”

She slid in first, and I quickly followed her lead.

We both giggled and thumped our beers onto the smooth polished table. “That's the biggest win I've had today.”

“You say that about everything.” I shook my head, a smile curving my lips. “Finishing the cleaning in Ramona’s kitchen, snagging the last piece of cake she left out…”

“What can I say? I'm always winning.” Linea shrugged off her coat,

running her fingers through her honey-blonde hair, wet from the rain. Water droplets fell on my face.

I put out a hand. “Watch it.” She laughed.

I unwrapped my scarf and my own damp hair touched my bare neck. “Argh.” I shivered and shook out my hair.

Linea yelled and scooched far away from me, giving me a disapproving look.

Laughing, I picked up my drink and swallowed a mouthful.

My gaze skated around the room. Busters was a beehive this Friday night. It seemed everyone had clocked out after the work week ended and decided this was their favorite way to wind down.

It definitely was mine. Every few weekends, Linea and I showed up, had a few beers, and relaxed. Not that the karaoke singer's rendition of “Poker Face” was providing any form of relaxation.

“What is that?” Linea frowned and faced the stage.

The guy was in his element. He strutted across the stage, tossing his non- existent long hair over his shoulder.

“The diva we didn't know we needed.”

My friend laughed and shook her head. "I want to go up there and tell him to stop. I've had a long week. He's ruining my evening.”

“Don't.” I eyed her. “I won't.”

Keeping my eyes on her, I sipped my beer.

Linea chuckled. “So, about next week's schedule…” “What? No. It’s the weekend, Linea, no shoptalk.”

Linea and I ran our own business, cleaning homes for a living. We loved helping others by creating spick-and-span, organized havens for them. It was fulfilling and fun working with my best friend. But it also bled into after- work hours.

“Fine.” She raised both hands and shrugged.

Linea grabbed her phone, and blue light illuminated her face. I slid lower in the booth, blew out a breath, and shot a gaze around. I could name almost every face my eyes connected with, and a couple waved. I waved back.

Lively chatter rang out around me. I could easily start up a conversation with anyone while my best friend was snapping different angles of her face to post selfies on Instagram. But chatting with the same people was all I ever

did.

Every day, the same routine. Clean houses. See the same faces. Visit our hometown bar.

I loved living in a small town; I really did. But lately I’d been…bored. I just wanted something different. Anything at all to spice up my life. But in Hannibal, that was too much to hope for.

Or was it?

My eyes fell on the entrance just as a man walked in. Unlike those making up the typical crowd at Busters, he was dressed to the nines. A black suit clung to his tall frame, and a dark blue tie ran down the front of the white button-down underneath.

I tilted my head, trying to make out his features. His face was turned down, concentration fixed on his black umbrella. With long deft fingers, he fastened the tie wrap. Lucky umbrella.

Then his gaze lifted. My heart clenched.

Deep gray eyes set in a rugged, strong face took in the room. Those stormy eyes bounced off me, and my breath caught. A sensation snaked through my belly—something foreign and delicious.

His gaze fixed on the bar, and his body followed. Lean strength sparked through with every measured step he took.

He dropped lithely onto a bar stool, his back to the booths. I shook myself out of my trance, glancing around. I’d lost myself there for a minute.

Judging by the ladies turned in his direction, I wasn't alone. All but Linea.

She was still focused on her phone. I elbowed her and nodded to the man.

She leaned over, trying to make out his face. “Oh my.” She sat back. “Who’s that silver fox?”

"Hell if I know." My words came out a little breathless.

Linea gave no indication she noticed, her eyes still on the man. “But really. Who is he? Where did he come from? That face is hard to forget.”

More than his face. The energy surrounding him was potent, crackling like electricity. My body thrummed, wanting to tap into that power.

“Someone new? A visitor?”

“Probably,” I muttered, then sipped my beer. My insides were still recovering.

Someone new. It clicked. Different from all the people I knew—and loved

—but hell, I knew them all too well.

I didn't need to think about it. I should, instead, follow my instincts. How many times did breathtaking strangers show up in Hannibal?

This was the universe deciding I deserved a good time. Just one night to forget my humdrum life. I’d never before had a one-night stand. It was something every confident woman should experience once in her life, right? My girly bits agreed, aching to be touched by those skillful-looking hands that were now nursing a beer.

I swallowed. He was what I needed.

He’d be a break from the same old same old. A breath of fresh air.

I wanted—no, needed—that fresh air. One night of hot, meaningless sex.

The memories would last me a lifetime.

A shiver tingled up my spine, my nerves jumping. I was doing this. No turning back now.

I was going to hit on a handsome stranger.

Whatever resulted, stranger was the key word. A no strings attached, fun night. And if the sex was terrible, I'd never see him again, so it didn't matter.

“How many seconds until someone walks up to him?” Linea’s gaze flitted around the bar.

I fluffed out my hair. “Five seconds.”

“What?” My friend turned. “I was thinking they'd let him have at least one drink… Oh.” Linea's eyes skimmed my body. “Undo one button. No, two.”

I did as she asked. “Okay?”

“Mm-hmm.” She drained her bottle.

“Wish me a win.” I tossed her my scarf. It’d get in the way of my sexy look.

“May my winnings be with you.” Linea raised her empty bottle. “Gosh, I need another.”

Smiling at my friend, I slid the strap of my bag over my shoulder and started out of the booth. She followed suit. But as I headed for the bar, she dove into the next booth. A chorus of “hey” rang out behind me as our friends greeted Linea.

I paid them no mind, all my attention glued to the stranger's strong back. While others hunched over their drinks, he sat up straight, with perfect posture.

An image flashed through my head of my nails raking down his back. I bet his backside was muscular and taut. Fit for grabbing onto while he

pumped between my thighs.

Said legs turned to jelly the closer I got. I took a deep breath, shaking out my hair and relaxing my shoulders. So what if I scrubbed floors for a living? And in contrast, this hot, hunky stranger looked like he could grace the cover of GQ?

None of it mattered. We wouldn't exchange anything beyond the physical. We could be a one-night distraction for each other, satisfying our animalistic needs.

I reached the stool next to him in two strides and slid onto it. The only indication he noticed my existence was the slight tick of his jaw. It relaxed as he resumed staring at his drink.

That gave me an opportunity to really look. His sharp features—high cheekbones and a strong jawline—were softened by full lips and long lashes. His salt and pepper hair was pushed back from his forehead, faded at the edges, and fuller on top. I slid a discreet gaze to his finger. No ring or ring outline.

My eyes lingered on his long fingers, and I swallowed. I wanted those hands on me.

“Hey.” My voice came out smoky and low, despite my nerves. Win! The man side-eyed me.

Oh, shit. My stomach pooled with liquid heat from only a look.

Just that glance made me want to either shrink away or rub up against him. “You’re not from around here,” I continued, inwardly cringing at my cheesy pickup line.

His face turned to me now, brow raised. “What?”

Goosebumps skittered up my arms at his smooth, deep baritone. I wasn't sure where I found the voice to continue speaking. "I know nearly every face in Hannibal. You're not from around here.”

“So?” His full brow arched higher, gray eyes rivaling the stormy skies outside.

I resisted the urge to stammer and forged on. He could just be at the end of a bad day. A little friendliness would help him loosen up. “You’re new, all alone. I could keep you company.”

His eyes ran down my body, pausing on my exposed cleavage. His throat worked for a second before his gaze lifted to my face. “No, thanks.”

His cold words doused the heat running through my veins. And yet…for a second, he looked ready to take me up on my offer.

Tossing my hair, I smiled. “Aww, come on. Everyone says I'm good company.”

“So go and keep everyone else company.”

“They're not hanging out at a bar all alone on a Friday night.”

He sighed, looking away from me. Instead of showing interest, it seemed I annoyed him. Was I so dull? A sinking feeling crowded in my belly. I looked behind me and spotted Linea. She waved, then gave me an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

I turned back to the man with a slightly boosted confidence. “So, would you like to buy me a drink?” I leaned forward on my elbow. His eyes ate me up once more, and I smiled. “That’s the decent thing to do.”

He tore his gaze from me, eyes back to his drink. “Maybe you should leave; that'd be the decent thing to do."

I sat back, my face flaming. I opened my mouth and shut it. No witty comeback came to mind.

There was no fun spin I could put on his words. He had rejected me.

Clearly.

I hopped off the stool, hands wrapped around my bag strap. I looked toward Linea, but she was caught up in cheering on the next karaoke singer, who was doing a great job. Keeping my head down, I headed for the exit.

Rain plastered my hair to my face and my clothes to my skin. But I kept my face down and walked, determined to get home and forget my embarrassing encounter tonight.

Why had I thought I could be a sexy temptress and lure a sophisticated man like him in? I was just boring old Ava. And getting soaked in the pouring rain was what I got for stepping out of my comfort zone.

Suddenly, the rain stopped. I brought my head up. No, it hadn't stopped. It was still falling around me, but not on me because…someone was holding an umbrella.

I turned, and my gaze met gray eyes. I took a step back, moving back under the rainfall. "What do you want?" I eyed the man.

He looked at the empty road before meeting my eyes. "I was being a jerk earlier." He lowered his head, like the thought embarrassed him. Then his gaze met mine again. "Share my umbrella and let me walk you home."

I started to say no, but he cut in. “It's the decent thing to do.”

A small thrill zinged through me that he used my quip from earlier.

“Fine.”

Something that was not quite a smile passed across his face.

We huddled underneath the umbrella as we started off. Not the way I’d hoped the night would go. But the warmth from his body was welcome.

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