One Hot Night Old Port Nights, Book 1 (3 page)

BOOK: One Hot Night Old Port Nights, Book 1
6.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Hint about what?

One chunk of snow slid down her cheek and down the back of her neck.

Lovely.

Suddenly she knew. It was all very clear.

Scott wasn’t the wrong man for her—he was exactly the right guy.

Maybe it was the cold drizzle working its way down her back, but Audra realized that what had seemed like a warning to stay away was really an invitation on silver platter.

How could she have missed it?

She’d been looking at this all wrong. She was too used to thinking with her heart—about permanence and being married—and being hurt. She hadn’t wanted to set herself up again. She wanted to be smart. Protect her heart and her life.

But that assumed she was thinking long term. What she needed from Scott—and very likely what he was offering—was sex. Pure and simple. One night. One really hot night.

She knew, instinctively, that he could give her that. Whenever he came on to her, she huffed and blushed like a virgin. No wonder she hadn’t gotten laid in a while. There had been a few guys after her divorce, but she’d been too focused on love, and the sex had been barely adequate. She’d decided that life was easier without both.

But her attitude had been askew. She didn’t need a relationship. She needed orgasms.

Her mission was suddenly defined by her epiphany, and she made her way, with some difficulty, around the building to the front walk. Scott’s door displayed the CLOSED sign, but peering inside, she saw him at the back, wiping down some tables. The music was still playing.

She rapped on the glass, though her mitten muted the sound.

“Scott?” she called, but he continued wiping tables.

Taking off her mittens, she knocked harder, calling again.

No luck. He probably couldn’t hear over the noise. She knocked again but he walked out of sight, back to the kitchen.

Was it a sign? Was she crazy? Was this her last chance to back out?

She thought of that kiss again and shook her head.

“Screw signs, I’m freezing.” Pulling her cell phone out, she called his number.

Luckily, he heard
that
and answered immediately.

“Audra?”

“Hi, Scott.”

“Where are you?”

“Outside your front door. I couldn’t get my car out, and I tried knocking, but—”

“Damn, sorry. Hold on.”

Two seconds later he was at the door, letting her in.

He leaned in close, and she held her breath, but all he did was brush snow off of her head.

“How long were you out there? You had a mountain of snow piled on you.”

“Oh, not long. A bunch fell on me from the roof when I was walking along the edge of the building.”

She looked around and noted how cozy the place was. She’d never really looked before—it was a bar, much like any bar—but right now, it felt like heaven. It was also different when it was empty except for the two of them. Crowded with shouting, drinking patrons, it never seemed that charming. Now, it seemed very intimate.

Warm, golden hues saturated the place, the walls solid brick. There was a huge fireplace at one end, where the tables were situated for people to sit, eat and talk. It would have been lovely if not for the huge flat-screen TVs that were hung everywhere. They were turned off now, all but the main one over the bar. Audra just focused on the warmth. And Scott.

“Something smelled pretty good out in the alley. Please tell me you haven’t closed the kitchen.”

“Nope. I have plenty to share.”

She watched him walk to the bar to get some tape and attach a note to the door. “What are you doing?”

“You never know, in a storm like this people can get stranded. I posted our business number to call if anyone else comes by needing help.”

Audra was taken aback for a second by his generosity and concern. “That’s very kind of you.”

He shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “You’re melting.”

“What?”

She followed his gaze down to where snow melting off her clothes had left a little puddle around her.

“Oh, I’m sorry! The floors—”

“Don’t worry. This tile can take a beating. Let’s get you out of those wet things,” he said, grinning. “Did that sound as porny as I think it did?”

Audra had to laugh. He was funny as well as generous. The combination was hard to resist. And now she didn’t have to.

“Nah. More big brother-ish, I think.”

He frowned in mock consternation. “I’ll have to try harder next time.”

“I hope you might.”

There it was. Her first return parlay.

He paused, as if registering what she’d said, before he took her coat and put it on a hook by the door. Awkwardness swamped her as she worked the snow pants down over her legs, which didn’t feel very sexy. She felt about twelve. Then she realized she should have taken her boots off first, and as she reached down to do so, she nearly fell over.

Scott was there to catch her, of course.

“Are you generally this accident prone?”

He asked the question with no criticism, only gentle humor. He didn’t let go of her, either. Audra leaned into him, holding on to his arm as she worked her boots and snow pants off.

When she looked up and saw the heat in his eyes, her fingers tightened on his forearm when they should have let go.

“Not usually, no. Today must be one of those days where everything seems to be going wrong.”

“I guess that depends on your perspective.”

Warmth chased away any chill that lingered from the cold. Audra wished she could play it cool and back away with a laugh and a smile, but words clogged in her throat instead. Her eyes went to his mouth as her heart slammed in her chest. Okay, he was still in the game, it seemed. Maybe he was turned on by older women with no sense of style or good balance.

They stayed like that, staring at each other for several long moments until hard blast of wind rattled the windows and made them both snap out of their fugue.

“Wow, it’s getting really bad out there,” she said.

Brilliant.

“It is. I’m glad you came here instead of driving home.”

“Me too.” She let go of him and stepped backwards into a wet puddle in her stocking feet. Closing her eyes, she groaned. “Yes. Driving would have been a disaster waiting to happen.”

Scott chuckled. “Come on back. I have some chili on the stove. I also have a pair of wool socks you can borrow.”

Audra wasn’t going to argue. The chili sounded fantastic, and her feet were now wet and cold. She watched him walk back to the kitchen, paying particular attention to his very nice form, and regained her sense of mission. She wanted to have sex with Scott Beckett, but she wasn’t going to throw herself at him. If she was reading him right, she wouldn’t have to. She only had to let him know she was ready to take him up on his offer.

First, though, she was ready to eat.

Audra followed him into the huge kitchen behind the bar. The bright lighting was cheerful, and the rich aromas made her take a deep breath that she exhaled on a smile.

“This is very nice, for a commercial kitchen.”

“It’s my personal kitchen as well—I didn’t see the point in putting in a whole kitchen in the apartment upstairs when I have this here.”

“I wondered why you live here? Why not some fancy place on the bay, like other star athletes?”

She thought the question might have sounded obnoxious, but he didn’t seem fazed by it.

“When I opened the place, I decided I wasn’t going to be an absentee owner. I wanted to run the place myself. People come in to see me, to talk with me, you know? Not to sound conceited, but it’s how it is. I also like being downtown. What do I need a huge house for when it’s only me?”

Audra nodded as she took two huge bowls from him. He didn’t sound conceited, but realistic. Genuine.

She admired that he was committed to his business, as she was to hers.

“Chili’s over there. Do you mind filling these? I’ll run upstairs to get you something for your feet.”

“Sure.”

She shut the burner off and grabbed a ladle from the counter where Scott had left it. She inhaled again as she lifted off the lid—it was possibly the best thing she’d ever smelled.

Except for Scott himself, of course.

Her rumbling stomach agreed. She doled out a few large portions and went searching around the kitchen for some bread or crackers. Finding them, she carried everything over to a counter where some stools were arranged—probably where the staff ate during their shift—and put everything there.

Scott walked back in a second later and presented her with a huge pair of socks that she stared at.

“Are those socks or a scarf?”

“I have really big feet.” He wiggled his eyebrows in a way that made her laugh out loud as she took the socks from him.

“I guess. Thank you. Is this spot okay?”

“Actually, let’s take dinner out by the fireplace.”

“Sounds lovely.” A suitably romantic setting for pre-orgasmic activities, she thought with a secret smile as she followed him out.

When they sat, she started to pull one of the socks on over her cold feet.

“Shouldn’t you take off those wet stockings first?”

Audra paused. That probably made more sense.

“I’ll go grab us a couple beers—you okay with a beer?”

“Definitely. Something dark, though. A stout or a porter if you have it.”

“We do, and you’ve surprised me yet again. In fact, I have something I think you’ll really enjoy.”

Audra bit back a comment about betting he had several things she could enjoy as he walked back to the bar. He was still within sight, but he wasn’t paying attention to her. She tugged her skirt up a little, finding the clips that held her stockings up and undoing them, rolling the soft material down her leg and off.

She heard Scott curse behind the bar—it sounded like he’d dropped something. When she looked, he was wiping up something he’d apparently spilled.

Damn, she’d hoped he was peeking at her little display.

She quickly removed the other stocking and pulled on the soft wool-blend socks. They came up to her mid-thigh and probably looked ridiculous, but they were warm. Scott returned and handed her a large beer glass that caught her attention.

“A black and tan! I haven’t had one of these in a long time. Not a good one, anyway.”

She admired the mixture and took a sip.

“My own personal blend of a pale ale that a local brewery created for the bar and a nice black stout. Be careful, it packs a little punch. One woman suggested we name it Weak in the Knees.”

She lifted the mug to her lips and drank as she tried to ignore the little stab of jealousy. No doubt that woman, whoever she was, wasn’t really talking about the beer.

Audra closed her eyes, taking in the flavors and the subtleties of the blend. She moved it around her mouth a little, enjoying the rich almost anise taste of the stout along with the crisp, apple notes of the pale ale before she swallowed. “Oh my, that
is
wonderful. You’ve managed to blend the bitter and the sweet perfectly, and there’s even a bit of chocolate in the finish. Or maybe that’s caramel, now that I think about it.”

Scott looked surprised. “Wow. You know your beer.”

She grinned. “I love beer. My father has tried to develop a craft brew, without much success, though.”

“I know the feeling. I gave up doing it myself and hired people who had real talent for it.”

“This is very special, Scott. I had no idea you were serving brews like this here.”

“You should visit more often,” he said with a smile, taking a sip from his own glass. “I actually have more specialty brews than not. I like finding northeast craft beers, local breweries, and featuring their products. We’ve even had a few tastings.”

“Wow. I’m impressed.”

“Maybe I’ll see you here more often now?”

“Could be. I don’t think I could ever resist one of these black and tans again.”

“Hopefully that’s not all you’ll find hard to resist.”

She took another long drink of her beer, looking at him over the top of the glass. Oh yes, not only were they on the same page, they were practically rolling around on it together.

They ate, sharing small talk that meant nothing, and Audra relaxed completely, though another tall beer certainly helped, as well. His beers might have had some aphrodisiac qualities based on the tingling sensation it left in particular areas of her body.

Audra told him some of her adventures in the antique business, which he seemed genuinely interested in. Scott amused her with stories from his hockey days—explaining as he went, since she didn’t follow the sport, or any sport—and she enjoyed the moment.

She was here with a very handsome man in front of a warm fire on a winter night. Normally at this time, she was home alone in her apartment, reading or sewing, which she enjoyed, but this was a very nice change indeed. In fact, she needed to do this more often.

Other books

The Flying Squadron by Richard Woodman
Smolder by Graylin Fox
Miss Matched by Shawn K. Stout
Joseph Balsamo by Dumas, Alexandre
Wild Wind by Patricia Ryan
Desolate (Riverband #2) by Sara Daniell, J. L. Hackett