Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 86510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“Who the hell is that?” Brenda says, snagging my attention. She widens her eyes, watching someone at the entrance.
I turn to follow Brenda’s gaze.
And I literally have to clamp down my jaw to keep it from dropping.
Chapter Two
Mary
The most magnificent man I’ve ever seen just walked into the club.
He’s a newcomer. He’s never been here before, at least not when I’ve been here. Granted, I haven’t been here much lately.
He has a mane of hair redder than mine, and he’s wearing a kilt. A fucking kilt.
It’s plaid.
Green-and-blue plaid.
A tartan.
Complete with the buckles, clasps, and a freaking sporran—the traditional Scottish pouch worn as part of traditional Highland dress. His is black leather with some type of white fur trim, and it hangs from a chain around his waist, just below the belt line—and right in front of the goods. The look is completed with knee socks and black shoes.
But from the waist above?
He wears nothing.
And my God, he’s a sight to behold.
He’s tall, first of all. Way over six feet. Probably around six five.
Broad shoulders, fair skin, and just a smattering of auburn hair over his chest.
His pecs… And my God, those abs. That’s not a six-pack.
It’s a fucking eight-pack.
His nipples are large and coppery.
His arms, muscular and corded.
And even from here, the bright blue of his eyes is visible in the dim light.
“Have you seen him here before?” Brenda asks.
I can’t put my lips together to form words, so I simply shake my head.
“Damn.” Brenda scratches her chin. “If I weren’t so in love with Dalton…”
I continue to stare.
“You going to say something this century?” she asks.
I blink. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. He’s hard not to look at.”
“To answer you, no, I’ve never seen him in here before.”
Brenda giggles. “You already answered that question.”
“Did I?”
Jennifer returns with our drinks, sets them down, and leaves.
Brenda takes a sip of her cosmo. “You shook your head,” she says. “I figured that meant you had never seen him.”
“Yeah, yeah. Right.”
Brenda laughs again.
My mind has gone to mush.
And then it goes from mush to completely liquefied when the Highlander himself walks right past us—turning to make eye contact with me—and collides with Jennifer, who is bringing drinks to another table.
Jennifer drops the tray and then slips on the slick wooden floor and ends up on her ass, her face right at the front of the hottie’s kilt. He reaches down to help her up, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. Probably apologizing.
But she doesn’t take his hand. Instead, she cocks her neck back and—
Oh my God… She’s peeking under his kilt.
I should look away. But I can’t. Jen’s eyes are wide as dinner plates, and she licks her lips.
My heart thumps.
Brenda’s eyes are also glued to the scene. Jennifer finally takes the man’s hand, and another staff member hurries over to wipe the drinks off the floor. The kilted man leads Jennifer—who’s smiling at him longingly, which for some reason I don’t like; I mean, I really hate it—back to the bar and takes a seat.
And again, my heart thumps, faster this time.
He looked at me.
At me.
And because he was looking at me, he ran smack into Jen, who now is looking at him. And she saw what’s underneath that kilt, and whatever she saw had to be impressive.
I feel his presence in every part of my body, especially between my legs. My nipples harden against the stretchy fabric of my dress. It’s suddenly too hot, and I grab my glass of water.
“You should go over there,” Brenda says. “Talk to him.”
I nearly spit out the sip of water I just took. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“Hell, no. He’s obviously new here. He didn’t stop to talk to anyone—other than Jen when he rammed right into her.”
Because he was looking at me. Those sparkling blue eyes met my own.
“You’re clearly interested,” Brenda continues. “Just talk to him. You don’t have to do anything. Besides, you look hot tonight, Mary.”
I glance down at myself. “This is just a basic black dress from the shop.”
“Yeah, and it looks amazing on you. Sometimes less is more.” She flicks her gaze to the man sitting at the bar. “Go talk to him.”
“Yeah. Okay. Just let me finish my drink first.” I take the tiniest sip of water and then set the glass back down. “Very refreshing. I want to savor it.”
Brenda rolls her eyes. “Fine. If you’re not going to talk to him, I will.”
I point to the diamond on her left hand. “That rock may be a little bit of a turnoff, Lotus.”
She shrugs. “Why would it be? For all he knows, Dalton and I have an open relationship.”
“But you don’t.”
“We might,” she counters. “All I have to do is get my phone from Claude, text Dalton, and describe this dude. He’ll probably give me a free pass.”