Page 515 of Summer Heat
When Marissa’s friends gathered her up, it was almost closing time. Marissa hurriedly scribbled her name and number on a napkin. “Tamara,” she called. “I really meant it about accounting. If you have trouble, call me.”
“Oh, you’ll give her your number, but not me, huh?” Lance said, plucking up the napkin. “You don’t mind if I copy it down first, do you, Tamara?”
Judging by the tight knot in her chest, Tamara did mind. “Why would I care? It’s Marissa you should be asking.”
Ignoring her, Lance took out his phone and tapped the numbers in. “I’m serious about the melodrama,” he said to Marissa. “Call me when it comes up.”
“I will.” She patted his shoulder and waved gaily at Tamara.
Lance handed the napkin to Tamara. “If you flunked that test, you really might give her a call.”
Tamara nodded and tucked the note in her pocket. The bar was clearing now. “It’s fifteen minutes to last call,” she said in a businesslike voice. “Do you want another beer?”
He pursed his lips and tilted the bottle. The expression made his mouth look infinitely devourable, and a bolt of something hot and needy pulsed through her unexpectedly. “I’m gonna have to walk home either way, so yeah,” he said, “give me one more.”
He stood up to pull money from the front pocket of his jeans, and Tamara found her gaze caressing his strong thighs and the weighty place between—
She jerked her gaze away, heat sizzling up to the tips of her ears. Ducking, she fished out another bottle of beer and put it on the counter and took the bills he’d put down without looking at him. She made change and put it on the bar.
“Do you have a favorite song?” he asked, taking quarters from the change.
“Pardon me?”
“A favorite song. Do you have something you like on the jukebox? I thought I’d play some mellow stuff to get everybody tired so you can go home.” His dimpled grin flashed.
In every millimeter of her body, Tamara flushed in response. Damn him. It was not fair he should be so irresistible, that he should appear when she was feeling so vulnerable. With a frown, she shook her head. “I’ve heard them all so many times, it doesn’t matter.”
“C’mon,” he coaxed. “There must be one you like.”
Her tangled, roused emotions suddenly swelled. “Will you stop being so charming? I don’t need your pity. Neither does Marissa, for that matter.”
“Pity?” He repeated the word quietly.
“Yeah. Is this your charity week?” she said, heedless now. She saw the slight narrowing of his eyes and it goaded her further. “You think I don’t know you would never date a woman like that? Do you think she doesn’t know it? I think it’s cruel to lead someone on.”
“Is that what you think?” He was very still.
“Yes.”
Very slowly, he stood up and gathered his change, down to the last dime. His face had none of the boyish charm to it now, only a grim tightness around the beautiful mouth. “You don’t get it, Tamara.” He shook his head. “Not everybody has an ulterior motive all the time. Sometimes it’s good to just enjoy the moment. Besides,” he said, disdainfully tossing a dollar bill for a tip down on the bar, “who is doing the judging here, anyway? Are you the one who picks out the girls who get to have boyfriends and which ones sit on the sidelines?”
Instantly, Tamara was ashamed. What she’d been feeling was pure, uncut jealousy, and it had made her catty.
But before she could form an apology, Lance was gone, his beer left untouched on the bar. He yanked the door open with enough force that she knew she’d made him angry, and for some reason, it made her heart ache.
Resolutely, she started breaking down the bar. It was better this way. Maybe he’d leave her alone now and she could get on with her life without wondering every minute if Lance Forrest was going to grace her with a smile.
* * *
Lance strode through the chilly night for two blocks before reason penetrated the faintly inebriated haze that colored his feelings. Damn the woman, anyway. Who did she think she was, making judgments like that?
All evening, he’d done his best to show her he wasn’t the cad she thought he was. Halfway through his conversation with Alonzo, he’d remembered how easy it had been to be with her at her house, when he was too tired to turn on the charm and try to impress her. And it had annoyed him. Instead of mooning over her, he’d decided to follow Jake’s example and try to have a good time. Marissa had proved to be a terrific companion, easy going and happy to playfully flirt. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d sat at the bar….
That was a lie. He’d wanted to be close to Tamara. But all it had done was make her mad.
Or jealous.
He slowed. Stopped. Turned around to glance back at the neon sign that blinked against the backdrop of black mountain. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said aloud.
