“Never,” Abby said, raising her eyebrows as she turned wide blue eyes on Karen. “The scratcher who did the original tattoo should be thrown in prison, if you ask me.”
Jed’s lips threatened to quirk into a smile. Abby was generally quiet, but she had her convictions.
“If I ever got a tattoo, I know where I’d go,” Karen said. “Not that I want anyone to come near me with a needle, but if I did…” She met Jed’s gaze for a moment so brief he would’ve doubted it had happened if it hadn’t been for the electricity it sent crackling through his entire body.
Her gaze flickered downward just as the waitress arrived with what looked like the lemonade Karen had been talking about.
Karen gripped her glass, long fingers curling gracefully around the frosted surface, and raised it to her mouth. The plastic straw drifted through a sea of ice to part her lips, and Jed had to look away.
For the better part of an hour, he pretended to be deeply interested in the jokes, beer and food circulating around the table. After way too many shrimp, he devoured the ribs he’d ordered, and they were good, but it was hard to focus on anything when Karen’s presence drove him to constant distraction. The way her hair shone in the low lighting, the way her skin glowed – everything about her drew his eye, and it was hell trying to resist.
He was on his way back from a trip to the restroom when he ran into her – not quite literally, but almost – in the narrow hallway that led to the men’s and ladies’ rooms.
“Oh!” Her strappy sandals slid a little on the tile, but she steadied herself with a hand against the wall just as he reached for her.
His hand swept through empty air – she’d already regained balance. He lowered it, his fingertips tingling with unfulfilled expectation. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She looked a little flushed – her fair skin was distinctly pink across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, and her eyes were bright. If that was the effect the lemonade was having on her, he might just have to buy her a second one … as a friendly treat to the birthday girl, of course, nothing more.
“I’ve always thought this hall was way too narrow. Drove me crazy when I was working here.” She straightened the front of her dress, and for the first time, he noticed the sequins glittering at the hem. Blue and green, they highlighted the pale but healthy sheen of her skin.
“Guess I take up more room than the average customer,” he said, jerking his gaze up and trying to sound jovial. It was no joke, though – he’d barely have to raise his arms at all to touch both walls. He was used to spaces seeming cramped; it was an everyday thing, thanks to the fact that he was 6’3”.
“That makes two of us,” Karen said, tucking a strand of auburn hair behind one ear and looking down as she smiled, her lower lip dented where she was clearly biting it from the inside.
“What are you talking about?” Even in her strappy heeled sandals, she wasn’t tall enough to look him in the eye. But she was tall enough that he didn’t feel like he was talking to his toes when he looked down at her, and that was nice.
The dent in her lower lip grew deeper, wider. “Well, you know.” She waved a hand at nothing. “I’m pretty tall, if you haven’t noticed.”
Oh, he’d noticed everything about her, including her mile-long legs, which accounted for her above-average height. “You’re still short in my book,” he teased.
Most people were. If Karen took up more room in the hallway than the average woman, it was less because of her height and more because of her amazing curves, which dominated the space between them and his imagination alike. She was curvy, but her waist was noticeably smaller than her hips and bust … she was like a pin-up girl from decades past, a retro-styled tattoo come to life.
The thought called his dick to attention as she stared at him, her green eyes wide above flushed cheeks and glossed lips. He was semi-hard, and fighting a full-fledged erection with everything he had because he had to walk back to the table. And damn it, there were kids back at the table, not to mention almost every single one of his employees.
“Sorry,” he said again, and tore his gaze away from her face, “about almost knocking you over.”
“It’s all right.”
The hallway really was narrow. They were standing so close he could smell her perfume – a light citrusy scent that reminded him of her youth. “I won’t keep you any longer.” He eased past her – a serious feat, considering the hall’s scant width and the fact that a part of him actually wanted to brush up against her – and strode toward the other side of the restaurant.