Impulsive (16 page)

“Okay. Well, I can go. I didn’t mean to rain on your parade, Jameson.” A quick flush of embarrassment and anger heated her cheeks. It wasn’t like she’d gone out of her way to get there or anything. Just a cab ride in the complete opposite direction of her world, and fifteen bucks she didn’t have to spend. She took a step toward the street and an oncoming taxi, but he caught her by the elbow.
 

“No. Don’t go,” he said. The warmth had returned to his eyes. He smiled down at her with the panty-melting hotness that infiltrated her dreams each night. “I didn’t mean to sound shitty. You just caught me off guard.” His touch drifted away. He shook his head. The smile morphed into a smirk. “Tasha Gretzky, Goth girl, hanging at a wine bar. What is it, a full moon or something?”

“Something like that.” Her voice came out breathy and girlish, not at all the vibe she was going for. She took a fraction of a second to regroup and muster her usual cool facade. “So where are your people? Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Um, let’s go inside first,” he said, staring down at her with way too much heat in his eyes for four o’clock in the afternoon. “They’re in the courtyard out back, talking shop and comparing penis sizes. I don’t know about you, but after the day I had, I could use a good glass of cabernet first.”

She tore her gaze from his, all the former unease replaced by their usual camaraderie, to study the chalkboard easel next to the entrance and the list of featured wines. “I think I’m going to try the shiraz. It looks like they have a new one this week.”

“Since when are you into shiraz?” One of his eyebrows lifted. Before Luke, she’d been more into beer than wine, but his enthusiasm had persuaded her to broaden her palate. He seemed to take vicarious pleasure from teaching her new things, and anything that pleased him, pleased her.

“I’m not. I just like saying it,” she replied and bumped her shoulder against his. “At least, I don’t think I am. I have to admit my knowledge of wine is pretty pathetic.”

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Trying new things, sampling life’s bounty?” The dimple in his left cheek deepened, a sure indicator of the smile to follow. When it broke, it sent a thrill through her, knowing it was for her.

“Right,” she said. “That’s what it’s all about, hot shot.” Their eyes met and held, brimming with mutual attraction. A flicker of heat and mischief flashed in his gaze. The fingers of his left hand brushed over her hip as he moved past her to claim a place in line for the bar.

Someone passed through the crowd behind Luke. He leaned into Tasha. The hard lines of his torso pressed against her arm and shoulder. One of his hands gripped her hip, holding her to him as if he owned her, claiming her. There was nowhere she’d rather be, no one else she’d rather be with.

“Luke? Is that really you?” From within her euphoria, Tasha heard the feminine voice, but it took a few seconds for her gaze to leave his handsome face to find the source. “Oh, my goodness, it is you. How’ve you been?”

“I’m good. Gosh, it’s good to see you,” Luke said. The shock in his voice might have been imperceptible to anyone but Tasha.
 

The warmth of his fingertips on her hip faded when his hand left her. Even worse, he moved away from her, putting distance between them, turning his back to her in order to hug the woman beside him. The woman wore a pencil skirt, beautiful silk blouse, and a colorful scarf tied around her neck in an artful knot. Her gaze flickered to Tasha then back to Luke, dismissing her without hesitation. Luke stepped out of line, blocking her from the woman’s sight, leaving Tasha to place their order.

“Caroline, it’s been forever. I never thought I’d run into you here. What’ve you been up to?” Although she couldn’t see his face, she could hear the genuine enthusiasm in his voice. “The last time I saw you…” His voice trailed away then picked up again. “Well, it’s been awhile.”

“Actually, I’m back in town for good,” Caroline said in a voice dripping with too much warmth and admiration for Tasha’s comfort. “A friend of mine started her own business, and I’m head of the graphic design department. You should come see me sometime. I’m sure we could use someone with your talent.”
 

“I might take you up on that,” Luke said. “I don’t see much of a future at my current job, to tell you the truth.”

Caroline touched Luke’s forearm lightly before reaching into her purse to withdraw a business card. She was clearly into him. “Here’s my info. My cell and email are on there. Maybe we can get together for dinner next week. I’d love to catch up with you again.”

“Sure,” Luke said.

Tasha paid for their wine and nudged Luke with her elbow, holding his glass out in front of him. He flinched, his gaze flickering down to her as if he’d forgotten her. He took the glass from her and turned back to Caroline. Luke might have forgotten about her, but Caroline hadn’t.

“Is this—is she—are you two together?” One of Caroline’s elegant eyebrows arched, an echo of the stammering disbelief in her voice. Pale blue eyes flitted from the stud in Tasha’s nose to the red roses tattooed on her forearm. Tasha drew in a deep breath and waited for the woman to acclimate.
 

“Yes,” Luke replied. “This is Tasha. We work together at Felony. You remember Jack, right? He’s co-owner of a few places here in town.”

“Oh, of course I remember Jack,” Caroline said, relief audible in her voice. “I’m so sorry, Tasha. I didn’t mean to be rude.” She extended a well-manicured hand in greeting. “I’m Caroline Hayden.”

“Tasha Gretzky,” she said. Caroline’s grasp felt cool and confident. Her manners kicked in and took over. “It’s always nice to meet a friend of Luke’s.”

“Yes, likewise,” Caroline replied. After an awkward silence billowed between the three of them, Caroline cleared her throat and returned her focus to Luke. “Well, I’ll let you go. I’ve got some friends outside.” She touched Luke’s arm and smiled. “Give me a call, okay? I mean it.”

“I will,” Luke said. His gaze followed Caroline out the door, into the courtyard, and stayed there long enough to make Tasha’s stomach clench with dismay.

When his attention didn’t return to her, Tasha huffed a sigh of exasperation and pushed past him, determined to hide her hurt behind a wall of indifference. A young couple left a small table for two near the window overlooking the courtyard. Tasha claimed it, leaving Luke behind. He followed a few seconds later and took the seat across from her. She stared out the window, feigning interest in the jazz trio assembled there. Caroline and her friends, a bevy of well-manicured women dressed in high-heeled pumps and scarves, sat at a table beyond the musical ensemble. A second, longer table teemed with men wearing neatly pressed pants, pinstriped shirts, and neckties in muted colors. Luke’s people. The women seated beside them were obviously their girlfriends and wives. One of the men caught his attention and summoned him with a wave.

“That’s my boss,” he said, still avoiding her. “Let me see what he wants. I’ll be right back.” He took his wine glass and went to the table, pausing to exchange remarks with Caroline on the way. His boss tugged on his sleeve and pulled him into a chair at their table.
 

Tasha finished her glass of wine and looked around for a waitress to order another. Her gaze flitted to Luke. He sat at the table next to his boss with his back to her and hadn’t even glanced in her direction. She choked back a frustrated sigh. He obviously had more important things than her to worry about. She was about to leave when he returned.

 
“How’s your shiraz?” he asked. His eyes snagged on Caroline through the window.
 

Tasha moved away from his touch. “The wine’s pretty good, but you’re a douchebag,” she replied, unable to hold back her irritation another second.
 

He choked on a mouthful of wine, sputtering and coughing. Any other time, she would’ve thumped him on the back and asked if he was okay. Today, she did nothing but sip her wine while he groped for a napkin to wipe away the tears in his eyes. Served him right. Let the bastard choke on his assholery.
 

“Me? What did I do?” His voice rasped over the words. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Did I miss something?” The light tone of his voice and the half smile playing on his lips suggested he thought she was joking. Before she could reply, he glanced back to Caroline.

“Seriously, Jameson.” With a sigh, she set her wine glass on the table and studied his profile in the late afternoon light. Strong and clean-cut features, straight nose, square jaw. The door opened, and the ensuing breeze ruffled the collar of his button-down shirt, revealing the curly black hairs there. A moment of clarity descended upon her, and she saw the truth. He was so fucking normal while she was so fucking…
not
. This was going to be much more difficult than she’d anticipated. “If you don’t know, then you’re dumber than I thought.”
 

“What? Tell me.” The smile fell from his expression, and his eyes darkened with concern.
 

“Honestly, I’m about two seconds from punching you in the nuts.” They stared at each other. Every passing second cut her like a razor blade.

“You are so frustrating.” He growled deep in his throat. “I just can’t win with you.” His sincere distress softened her anger but only a little.

“You know, I just remembered I have something important to do.” The legs of her chair scraped across the floor as she pushed back from the table and stood. She gulped down the remaining wine in her glass and set the goblet on the table in front of him.
 

“Like what?” The amber eyes narrowed suspiciously.
 

“Like none of your business,” she replied in her best haughty tone.

“You came all the way down here to drink one glass of wine and leave after ten minutes? I don’t believe you.”
 

“I came all the way down here to see you. I can drink wine anywhere. And it’s been three glasses and forty minutes, but you wouldn’t know because you’ve been too busy ignoring me.” She shook her head, biting back feelings of disappointment and betrayal.

“I didn’t invite you here, so you can’t be mad at me,” he retorted. His patronizing tone ignited her anger. “I told you this was a work thing.”

“Yes, you did. This was a bad fucking move on my part. It won’t happen again.”

“I’ll walk you out,” he said and started to rise with her, but she stopped him with an outstretched hand and a glare.
 

“No.” She placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back into his chair, the beat of his heart strong against her palm. “I mean it. Stay and schmooze with your co-workers.” Overwhelmed by exhaustion and wine, she shook her head and drew in a deep breath to settle her temper. When she spoke again, it was with measured calm and resignation. “Go have a good time, Luke. I’ll talk to you later. It wasn’t important anyway.”

A furrow formed between his brows. She didn’t wait for him to reply, and he didn’t try to follow her. As she pushed through the crowd, curious glances and whispered comments followed her. A group of college boys, clad in polo shirts and deck shoes, snickered and pointed at her. She straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin, and strode out of Winona’s Wine Bar like the fucking awesome chick she was. Untoward remarks had never bothered her before. They vetted her celebration of individuality and an alternative lifestyle. She paused long enough to glare at the fucktards, ready to give them a piece of her mind, but bit back the scathing remark on her lips. Instead, she waved down a passing taxi and slid into the back seat, feeling empty and disappointed. The cab pulled away from the curb, and despite the weight of Luke’s gaze, she never looked back.

Chapter 25

Luke scraped his chair away from the table and started after Tasha, but his boss stopped him. He watched her disappear out the door, saw the college kids harass her, and his fist clenched with the need to hit one of them.
 

“What the hell, Mr. Jameson?” Mr. Belden said. Even though they were the same age, his boss insisted on the formal address. “I need you at our table.”

Through the glass storefront, he watched with a growing sense of panic as Tasha hailed a cab and disappeared into the backseat. They needed to talk. The estrangement between them was killing him with every passing minute. She hated this wine bar, yet she’d come all the way down here to see him, and he’d acted like a jerk. Not on purpose. Seeing Caroline had thrown him off balance. He knew through mutual acquaintances she frequented the city, but he never expected to see her again. Belden breathing down his neck didn’t help either.

“I really need to go,” Luke said, returning his attention to his boss. “Something’s come up.”

“Bullshit.” Belden took him by the elbow and turned him toward his table. “See those people over there? There’s your fucking emergency. Our clients. I need you at that table and focused on your job, or you can find another place to work.”

Luke stared at his boss and contemplated doing just that. The guy treated him like shit on the best of days, insisting he clean the toilets when the maintenance man had quit, forcing him to pick up his laundry and buy gifts for his girlfriend and wife—the cheating bastard. The only reason Luke put up with it was for the money. Until he could find a better job, he’d have to suck it up.
 

Two hours later, from the sidewalk in front of Tasha’s apartment building, Luke stared at the entrance doors and scowled. He paced back and forth a few times, his stomach in a knot. Should he go up? He’d seen the flare of anger in her eyes and sensed the disappointment in her words. What if she wouldn’t see him? What if she wanted to end their friendship? The idea of not having her in his life made his temples throb.

Mr. Corbett from the seventh floor, arms laden with groceries, interrupted his ruminations. He opened the door for the old man then offered to carry the heavy bags upstairs for him. Once he reached the seventh floor, it only seemed sensible to go the additional story to Tasha’s floor. He blew out a heavy breath, ran a hand through his hair, and summoned courage to ring the doorbell.