He lifted an eyebrow. "You're kidding? That fast?"
"Yes. That's where I was coming from when my tire blew. Can we meet at the site to hammer out some details this week?"
"That works."
"Great. Well, have a good night."
His arm shot out. Strong fingers wrapped around her upper arm, encasing her in a firm grip. "Have coffee with me."
His touch jolted her like a hit from Iron Man. She tried to mask her reaction by looking at the ground. "I don't drink coffee this late at night. It keeps me up."
"Wine?"
"My Place is too far a drive. I need to be back for Becca."
"We can go down by the marina. Just one cocktail and then home. You can take your own car."
She casually stepped back, breaking his hold. Her skin burned. "Umm, I'm sure you have better things to do on a Saturday night after a rocking ballet," she joked. "People to call. Lively places to go. Hot girls to hang with."
"Actually, I don't." There was a seriousness that clung to his manner, to his words. Those beautiful golden eyes seemed haunted as he stared at her. Why, oh why, had they declared a tentative truce? It was much harder to be nice to him than snippy. Being nice opened up all sorts of nasty things inside of her. Weepy things. Needy things.
Girly things.
He continued, each word chipping away at another piece of her finely built armor. "I don't feel like going home to an empty house."
Direct hit. More of her barriers shook, but she crossed her arms in front of her chest and regarded him suspiciously. "Why are you trying to make me feel guilty? You used to tell me your greatest moments were spent alone."
He winced. "That's when we were young and my brothers drove me insane. Now I like some company while I drink my wine. Come on. Just one drink."
This man rarely asked. He demanded, cajoled, and sneered his orders. But the genuine need in his voice threw her off balance. "Fine. One drink. A quick one."
Straight white teeth flashed in the shadows. Those braces had done him wonders. "Thanks. I'll follow you to the marina."
The whole time Sydney drove she cursed herself for being a half-wit. This was not a good idea. Oh, sure, she'd get to steep herself in the glory of his cologne and feast her eyes on his beautiful face and enjoy his sharp dialogue, but the barrier was wavering, and she needed to keep him firmly on the other side.
The marina was busy with its usual weekend crowd. The harbor was the main highlight, with boats bobbing gently in the waves, the pier and lampposts strung with tiny white lights to give off a festive air. Restaurants and shops surrounded the water, and the outdoor bars were lively with music and groups relaxing on the decks.
They parked in the lot and walked over to Andy's Tiki Bar. Since spring still hadn't fully bloomed, a plastic covering blocked the wind from the water, and heat lamps were set out so people could enjoy the outside space. She found an empty cocktail table off to the side, away from the main action, and saved it for them as he got their drinks.
He strolled through the crowd with two wineglasses, cutting a path just by his presence. He'd always radiated power, even when he was young. It was an innate confidence in who he was and his abilities that made him so damn sexy.
Plus his delectable body. The man had an ass that should be worshipped.
"Now that's a thought I need to know. You've got quite an intense expression on your face."
His teasing words caused a flush to rise to her cheeks. Thank goodness it was dark so he couldn't see it. She took her glass of Cabernet Sauvignon and busied herself with taking a few sips. The rich flavors of earth and blackberry and heavy tannins coated her tongue. So good. He knew how to pick the best reds; he shipped his favorite vintages direct from France.
"Just thinking about how bad I want to dance." The horrified expression on his face made her laugh out loud. "Are you telling me you didn't bring back some wicked moves from the city you want to show me?"
He sipped his wine and shuddered. "Dancing is the most unnatural thing for a man to do. Flailing around like an idiot to impress a girl." His gaze crashed with hers. "There are better ways."
Her belly dropped to her toes, but she ignored it. "It's a sign of being willing to compromise," she pointed out. "We already know the majority of men are uncomfortable on the dance floor. But the ones willing to look like an idiot to impress a girl may stick around longer than one night."
"Ouch. Are you mad because I never danced with you?"
She sighed. Memories stirred. "I never asked. We were still sneaking around a lot."
"Cal and Dalton eventually knew. I think Mom did, too, but she never challenged me on it. I felt like I was living out the theme of don't ask, don't tell." He traced the rim of his glass with the tip of his index finger. "It wasn't fair to you. Hiding our relationship for so long. Meeting after hours and at the marina and in the woods. I'm sorry, Syd. I hope I never treated you like you didn't matter. Because you did."