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  The door snapped closed behind us with a loud clack. Just as the last remnants of filtered sunlight retreated back into the outside world, I saw those amazing eyes flash once more as a hypnotic spark of blue flame roped around me. I stood motionless, breathlessly waiting for my sight to adjust to the darkened room.

  After a few seconds of trying to refocus my vision, my eyes finally locked in on the owner of that magnificent gaze. He was sitting at the part of the bar counter that was closest to the door. The complete features of his face were hidden behind – of all things – a straw cowboy hat. The peak of the hat was dipped forward and cast a long shadow over the rest of the man’s face, only those bright blue orbs were visible from where I stood, feet planted like a stone statue at the edge of the doorway.

  The sudden appearance of a smirk at the corner of his lips caused a shudder of self-consciousness to roll over me. The dress that I was wearing was strapless and just barely fell past my mid-thigh area. The elastic band sewn into the top of dress clung tight around my breasts, nearly a full D-cup, and made them push out forward a lot more than they would have in a regular top. Though I had remembered to pack this particular garment should Rita and I have had to attend some type of formal lunch or early dinner function with the rest of the group, I had forgotten the strapless bra that I would have usually worn with it. The chill I had experienced back at the car had caused my nipples to pucker and they had remained stiff. The excessive hardness of my nipples was clearly noticeable and anyone with half decent vision could see them poking up through the thin material. The skinny white belt that was wrapped around my small midsection caused my generous and wide hips to appear very apparent. A cool breeze that was hovering around the wood planked floor floated up my bare legs. A tingle of anticipation worked its way upward and stopped right at the entryway of my dark kitten. I dropped my eyes and clamped my thighs closer together as I fought back the sudden surge of heat that was gathering there. I did remember to take a minute to thank the good Lord that I had remembered to have a pedicure done yesterday so, at the very least, my open toes – if nothing else – would look somewhat decent, even in this dark room.

  I could only imagine how self-conscious and silly I must have looked standing there, mouth pinched tight and eyes wide with disbelief that I had even dared to take a chance on coming in a strange place only partially dressed. What would Mother have said? Probably something to the affect of reminding me how important it is to make sure I kept working hard at fighting back the natural ampleness of my thighs. Back at the bed and breakfast, when I had reached for my capri pants, my darling girlfriend told me that casual wear just wouldn’t do when we were going out to explore a new nightspot. Now, I wish I had disregarded her words and worn what I would have felt most comfortable in instead of standing here feeling so awkward and out of place, even in my own skin. I wished I had a shawl or wrap to throw over my shoulders or could run back to the rental and pull out a pair of tights to slip up over my legs, anything to cover myself and make that menacing smirk disappear from his face.

  Strangely enough, there was something hidden within that alluring half smile that was a curiously appealing. With the mystery man’s complete attention focused on me, I was caught up in a mix of embarrassment and slight arousal. My head was heavy with trying to decide which emotion I wanted to follow through with. His shadowed face remained aimed at me while I inwardly debated on which direction I should hastily make a retreat toward or whether or not I should withdraw at all. Never had I walked into a situation where a man had held me in his sights for so long. The longer I was standing there, hopelessly trapped in his field of vision, the stronger my urge to make slow and determined strides closer to where he sat so casually bent over the bar top and cradling a draft bottle in one hand, as if patiently waiting for my arrival – knowing, enjoying, amused by the obvious and heated effect his interest was having on me. It was almost as though he were expecting me to take a step closer, then another and another, until he had finally completed roping me into his presence. I wondered what would happen if I were to follow through on my rising need to be near this man. If I turned away, would the invisible hands that I now felt wrapping tightly around my waistline draw me back and pull me up tight to his chest? If I moved closer, would the smoldering fire that was building within me increase – intensify? Or, would he only offer me a devastating blow as he flashed a look of confusion and disinterest because I was not the intended object of his silent affection? As I contemplated the outcome of all of these scenarios and which was the most accurate, movement at the corner of my eye offered a definite signal as to which direction I should proceed.

  I had completely forgotten that Rita Kaye had also stepped into the room and there was no way that I had succeeded in stealing her spotlight. My mystery man’s deep gaze had probably not been directed toward me at all. With Rita standing there, just about half an inch taller than me in her black spiked heels and wearing a snug fitting cocktail dress that outlined her tiny frame, with one hand planted firmly on her slim hip, long hair draped over her shoulders and down her back, it became apparent who all the attention had been intended for.

  A sly smile spread across her face and I knew we were in for a long night. Whenever she showed both rows of her perfectly polished teeth, it was usually a clear indication that Rita was feeling wonderfully comfortable in her surroundings and ready to work the crowd. Though there was no real crowd to speak of in this establishment, most of the occupants were male and she must have set her eyes on some new victim. Or, perhaps she too had been drawn to the appealing blue eyes that had succeeded in captivating me in less thirty seconds time.

  The collision of pool balls sounded out across the large room and drew my attention to two men starting up a new game in the rear. A couple was seated at the opposite end of the bar and the handful of other men present had taken up seats at tables hugging the edge of the walls and on stools stationed further toward the other end of the bar top. The low muffle of a song that I was not familiar with filtered to my ears. Judging by the pace of the beat and the few words that I could make out, I was guessing that it was some kind of bluegrass band.

  “Jae, I like it…I like it a lot,” Rita spoke in my direction, even as her eyes continued to scan the contents of the building. “I can see lots of potential in here already.”

  By potential, she was probably referring to any number of possible hook-ups that she was planning out in her mind while surveying the male population.

  “It’s all right, I guess,” I replied in a low tone, “No where near as bad on the inside as how it looks on the outside.”

  My thoughts were still trained on the man at the bar. I wanted to snatch another quick glance over at my dark stranger, but I managed to keep my eyes focused forward and moving over the small crowd. I was desperately searching out a chair as far away from the man with the pretty blue eyes as I could find. Usually, when a man showed more interest in Rita, I never took the gesture personally. I had come to terms with the fact that her open personality and natural flare were more appealing than my quiet and astute ways. However, for some reason, this time felt different and I didn’t want to stand around and watch the pair entangle themselves into a make-out session. Especially since, for once, I would be wishing that it were me who was locking hot lips with this tempting man, whose face I still could not quite make out as I cut my brown eyes in his direction once more for another sneak peak. I snapped my head in the other direction and my heart started to thud in my chest when I realized that he was still following our movements. Had he caught me trying to look at him again? Why couldn’t it be me that he was trying to silently pull over toward his direction?

  A sudden panic hit me and, without waiting for further directions from Rita, my legs went to the left and toward the corner furthest away from the door. It was darker in that spot and, hopefully, I would be able to wait out the remainder of the night in quiet solitude. I flopped down in the high backed chair at th
e table that was closest to the corner and sat with my back to the wall so that I could watch all sides of me. My dad was always great at giving common sense advice and his best wisdom to date was to make sure you always know where the exit is and how to get back there. Though he wasn’t my birth father, I always loved him as though he were and missed him dearly. I smiled to myself as his memory floated across my thoughts. When I looked back up, Rita was staring down at me with a look of confusion. I wasn’t sure whether it was because she was wondering if something were wrong and wanted to know what had prompted my sudden movements or whether she was just surprised that I didn’t wait for her cue. Her next words answered my question.

  “Don’t you want to sit at the bar?”

  “No,” I answered and turned my eyes back to surveying the rest of the inside.

  When I made no attempt to offer further explanation, she dipped her pencil thin eyebrows at me.

  “We always sit at the bar first.”

  She took a step closer. I knew what was next and I was prepared this time. There was no way I was going to let her drag me around like her personal best buddy doll. Not this time. I had made up my mind that this spot was where I was staying and I would not be moved by anyone, not even Rita. I was suddenly in no mood to watch her flirt or to fling salon straightened hair all night.

  “I said ‘no’,” and snapped my eyes back to meet her green ones.

  She must have seen in my face what was swimming around in my head. This time, she wasn’t going to get her way and I was having no problems with displaying my seriousness. Rita backed up a little, almost as if she weren’t sure what to say next. Most of our conversation always ended up in me going along with her direction, most especially when it came to hanging out in a social scene. She looked me over once, then once more, then one more time before standing up a little straighter and speaking again.

  “Fine,” she said and her words had a bit of bite to them. “Do what you want. I came to have fun, not play wallflower all night. See you later.”

  Rita turned sharp in pointed shoes and headed back toward the bar area. I didn’t need to look around to already sense the change in the air. Men, far and near, were suddenly noticing that she was in the room. The smell of heightened pheromones was starting to travel from one end of the building to the other. I also didn’t want or need to see her inevitable seduction of my guy, so I turned my head back toward the pool table and watched the taller man miss his shot due to lack of concentration as he followed my friend’s slim silhouette back to her destination.

  I sat back in the hard and flat four-legged chair and crossed my legs and my arms. It was a rare occurrence but once my mood reached the level of aggravation, it was so hard for me to shake it off. All I wanted to do was hop in that car and speed back toward a warm bath and a comfortable bed and then try to make a fresh start in the morning. I glanced out of the double paned tinted window to my right and saw the sun hastily fleeing further and further away. Nevertheless, no matter how annoyed I was with Rita, there was no way that I would leave her stranded in a bar alone after dark and with no way of getting home safely. I would wait out my time in the corner and make sure to take a few minutes to seriously reconsider the nature of our relationship and who always seemed to best benefit in the end, because it sure seemed like it was never me.

  While I contemplated this thought, the music from a speaker hanging somewhere close by filtered its way into my mind. This was definitely bluegrass or maybe modern country, neither of which I had ever taken the time to listen to for longer than whatever might be playing in a scene on a movie I was watching or on a radio or TV commercial. The singer, a woman with a nice silky voice, was singing about a summer lover whom she longed to meet again while hyperactive stringed instruments highlighted the emotion in her voice. Despite the obvious longing in the lyrics, the beat was very up-tempo. Perhaps it was the environment that I had landed in having some surreal effect on me, perhaps it was how I could somewhat relate to the heartbreak she was describing in her medley, or maybe I was just enjoying the song, whatever the reason, I noticed that my foot had started to tap out the beat on the floor. And, before I could control myself, I caught on to the tune and started to hum along with the lady singer. I nodded my head in rhythm while she belted out her pain and eagerness to seek out that long lost love of hers.

  “You like this band?”

  I froze mid-tap, afraid to look up at the owner of the smooth bass that had just asked the question. Somehow, I had been enjoying the song so much, I had failed to take notice of his approach. Nonetheless, there he stood, a tall man, who was wide at the shoulders of his tucked-in black-checkered shirt that was rolled up at the elbows to reveal well-toned and muscled biceps. He was lean around hips that were hugged by a pair of dark blue denim jeans fastened by a thick black leather belt with a oversized silver buckle shaped in the image of large steer.

  The music, though I’m quite sure it was still playing, went mute in my ears. I clasped my palms together and sat motionless as I tried to think of the words to say but my mind was completely blank. I felt like I was shifting into autopilot and I had no idea what was going to come out of my mouth.

  “Um, I guess so. Maybe. I mean…this is my first time hearing this singer or the band she’s performing with.” I replied without making eye contact, my head stuck staring in the direction of the pool table.

  “Well, you sure looked like you were havin’ a good time singin’ along. I was convinced that this might’ve been one of your favorites on their album.”

  There was an accent there, in the way he spoke his words. I had never heard a real twang in person, but I liked the manly strength of his speech and how it caressed my ears. When he spoke again, there was definitely a new sensation of moisture gathering between my burning thighs.

  “You mind if I take a seat?”

  When I hesitated with my reply, I heard him laugh low.

  “No need to be worried, miss, I promise to be a complete gentleman for you.”

  The sincerity in his statement caught me a little off guard and when I looked up, he had his hand placed over his heart as if he were truly swearing an oath to me. Heat flushed over my cheeks and I knew that my face was turning a few shades redder as a tiny smile slipped up the corners of my mouth.

  “There we go,” he laughed again, “I like that expression on you much better than the last one.”

  I laughed out loud this time. I had no idea I had been sitting here looking so grave and or how truly agitated and nervous I had been feeling until I finally had my first real laugh of the evening, possibly my first laugh of the day. And what a long and draining day it was turning out to be, though it was starting to seem like I just might be on my way to getting a much desired break from all of the tension.

  The shaded lights hanging from metal braids overhead combined with the curved brim of his hat were still causing a heavy shadow to fall over most of my mystery guy’s face; however, there was no doubt in my mind that this was the same man from the bar. It was the eyes, still bright and gleaming, even under this dim and harsh light.

  “I’ll take that big laugh as a ‘yes’ to my earlier question,” he said and pulled out the chair directly in front of me on the other side of the square table. He used one hand to easily whip the object around in reverse before taking a seat to face me.

  “I’m so sorry, I’m being rude. Of course you can sit,” I hurriedly offered.

  “No need to apologize. A true lady doesn’t accept the proposal of any son-of-a-gun off the street. She sizes him up first and then makes sure he’s the right son-of-a-gun before she says ‘yes’ to his proposal.”

  I laughed again, despite not truly comprehending the meaning of his sudden adlib. What I did know was that I liked how what he said seemed to just roll off of his tongue with immense confidence and ease, and how he curved his mouth, a beautiful rosy pink, to form the words. It was almost like listening to a soloist sing out an endearing tune, smooth and easy, absol
utely captivating my soul. The more he spoke, I realized that his Midwestern accent wasn’t as heavy as I had thought. He didn’t sound like someone from the Deep South but you would definitely never confuse him as being a native New Yorker from the Bronx or even Midtown.

  “You have no idea about what I said, do you?”

  I was embarrassed to admit this obvious fact aloud, but I did so anyway.

  “No, I’m sorry, I don’t.”

  I bit my lip and waited for him to tell me off about how ignorant we city gals are.

  Instead, he threw his head back and laughed hard. After he reigned in his amusement, seemingly at my expense, Bright Eyes leaned forward and crossed his arms over the tabletop.

  “My dear, you apologize too much.”

  He smiled and when he did, that puddle gathering in my secret place was starting to overflow again. The cutest dimples that I had ever laid my eyes on were centered in his cheeks.

  “Always remember, stick to your story and see it through.”

  I nodded absently, wanting nothing more than to reach out and trace the line of his jaw with my hand. In the back of my mind, I knew that my dad would have loved this man who was so full of quick wit and words of wisdom.

  “What I mean to say, pretty lady, is make sure you mean what you say and never feel like you have to apologize for it.”

  He moved back to take off his hat and then placed it down on the table between us. When the last mask hiding his features had finally been removed, I had to hold my bottom firmly to my seat. It was the only way I could ensure that I wouldn’t do something insane, like leap across the table and enfold myself in his big arms. The man was absolutely and devastatingly handsome. Light brown hair, curled at the ends and hanging right above his wide shoulders was curved around the back of his ears. A straight and angular nose and high cheekbones made him classically striking. His lips were beyond kissable and I easily started fantasizing about having the chance to take long deep drags of tasting him while our mouths locked together. A sheer covering of afternoon stubble lined his cheeks and continued under his chin and down his neckline. Underneath the light wash of five o’clock shadow, he had a smooth baby face. If I had to guess, he was barely into his early twenties and no less than five years my junior. Though his face was as sweet as an angel, the fire in his eyes, which turned out to be ice blue – like fresh glacial spring water – were full of energy and mischief.