The Do-Over by Julie Richman
Henry was deeply ensconced in his own head, making resolutions about moving on, not paying attention to his surroundings, or seeing the man, as he approached his car. He was leaning against the hood, his thick muscled arms folded across his chest. Calm, cool, collected, in charge and so damn freaking handsome.
“Your place?” was all he said.
Henry felt the sharp stab in his heart as his adrenal glands shot a release of hormones into his blood stream. Shaking his head no, he was shocked at how cool and calm his voice sounded, when he was anything but, “No. I don’t think so. You haven’t even bought me a drink yet.”
Walking around the big Marine to the driver’s side, Henry hit the remote, unlocking the door.
With a palm to the solar plexus to stop him, “Where are you going?” the Marine asked.
“Home,” Henry was very matter-of-fact.
“I thought you wanted me to buy you a drink?”
Stepping around the Marine, Henry opened the door to his black BMW and got in. “I do…” and he closed the door and started the engine.
Rolling down the window, he added with a smile, “… on Sunday.” Gunning the Beamer’s engine, he left the Marine in the dusty parking lot with a smile on his handsome face.
Well played, Henry congratulated himself. Let him ache for me as much as I’ve been aching for him.
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[box_light]1st in the Needing Moore series
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