“Sweet.”
He jerked a nod. “Good.” Making a show of considering his next question, even going so far as to tap his chin with a long forefinger until she laughed, he finally asked, “Frozen or on the rocks?”
Cailin was getting the hang of this game. “Frozen.”
“Hot damn, we’re on a roll!” Brad slapped his palms together and rubbed them vigorously. “Let’s see…strawberry or coconut?”
That one was harder. “Hmm. I like both, but let’s go with strawberry.”
“Okay, how about a frozen strawberry margarita? Good staple. Can’t go wrong with it.”
Cailin agreed. “Sounds good. Thank you.”
“No problem—” He lifted a brow in inquiry.
“Cailin.”
Brad reached across to shake her hand politely. “Nice to meet you, Cailin.” He tapped his name tag. “Guess what my name is?”
“Would I win the game then?” she asked with a laugh.
“You’ve already won our game, beautiful.”
Brad shot her a seductive smile that should’ve sent the temperature in the room soaring several degrees, then turned to start on her drink.
Cailin went back to people watching. As much as she enjoyed interacting with others—when they carried the conversation, of course—she was always more comfortable on the outside looking in. It was easier watching than trying to figure out how to actually do, how to get involved with people and not become mired in their expectations and rules and just plain crap sometimes. Part of the reason she’d been with Sean as long as she had was because she was so used to the outsider role that she hadn’t really recognized that she’d ended up there, in her marriage of all places. She’d been so used to being lonely that it hadn’t rung any alarm bells when it crept between her and Sean, hadn’t alerted her to her husband’s slow defection until it was too late.
It was funny when she bothered to think about it, really—funny sad, not funny ha-ha. She had ended up in the same position with Alex, hadn’t she? On the outside looking in. If she could ignore what was on the inside, it might be easier to bear, but how could she ignore a man she was so fascinated with that not even his having a wife could cool her down for long?
Thus her trip to Thrice.
Brad returned with her drink, flirting a bit more before heading over to help with a large group that arrived all at once. Cailin sipped the frozen concoction with pleasure. And she watched. And watched.
What had made Alex choose her? She’d been on the dance floor, but she knew better than anyone that her skill in that area wouldn’t be special enough to draw a man like him. She frowned, trying to piece the puzzle together. Had it been the dress? Had her clothes declared to the world I’m desperate; pick me up? Chemistry had certainly been a factor. For goodness’s sake, look how quick they had ended up in—
“Ah, my lady returns. How are you this evening, miss?”
Cailin turned, surprised. The man behind her stood a good foot taller than her own five-three, towering over her even when he leaned one elbow on the bar. A rugged jaw tempered the boyish good looks, keeping him from being pretty; instead he drew second, third, and probably fourth looks from the women passing their spot. Cailin looked at those women, then at him, but it wasn’t until he smiled and lifted a single dark brow that she realized who he was. A hot flush that had nothing to do with the alcohol in her drink swept across her neck and face.
“Oh Lord,” she whispered. It was the man who’d opened the door to the office that night, the one who’d known Alex on sight, who had allowed them in with only that raised eyebrow as comment.
The man traced what must be a bright red stain across her cheeks with a cool finger. “Ah, none of that, now.” Leaning in, he whispered directly in her tingling ear, “Your secret is safe with me, my lady.”
Cailin turned her head, bringing them practically nose to nose. “Thank you… I’m afraid I don’t—”
“Damien. Thrice’s owner. And you are?”
Oh. “Cailin.”
“Beautiful.” It seemed to be the adjective most fitting tonight since two men had now used it on her. Cailin fought not to roll her eyes at him. “I’m a friend of Alex’s from way back.”
“I see.”
She sat for a moment under the man’s careful scrutiny, sipping her drink, with no idea what to say.
“So where is Alex tonight?” Damien asked.
She jerked her head toward him. Wrinkling her brows, she asked, “How should I know?”
“Ah, I see.” Something in his face closed down, and Damien’s tone froze her in place when he continued. “So it’s like that.”