Any Way You Want It. Kathy Love
Jo asked, thoroughly confused. She hadn’t gotten the whole scoop on the readings, because upon returning to the hotel for a nap, she discovered her sailor waiting in the lobby. That did a whole lot to make up for him missing breakfast, so Jo had spent the day with him.
“The psychic saw Ren in Maggie’s cup.”
Jo still looked confused.
Erika started to tell Jo about the reading Hattie had given, but Maggie cut her off. “The reading was just a fluke.”
Erika gaped at her friend. “Having you look into the cup, pointing to a pattern in the leaves and saying ‘That looks like a face with long hair and an eye’ was a fluke?”
All three friends looked up at the stage. Ren stood at the mic, his head down. When he lifted his head, his hair fell over one side of his face, leaving only his eye with the white lashes visible. He looked directly at Maggie, almost as if could hear them and was presenting the image that had been described.
“And that happening, right this minute, that was a fluke too, right?” Erika said, still gaping up at the stage.
“Here’s your wine,” the bartender shouted from behind the bar to be heard over the guitar solo taking place on the stage.
Maggie gladly reached for the wine, taking a long gulp. Then she reached for her purse, but the bartender lifted a hand to stop her.
“You’re Ren’s girl,” she called. “I’ll just put it on his tab.”
Maggie started to tell her that, no, she wasn’t Ren’s girl, but apparently the hair antennae went off and the bartender bounded away to help another customer.
“The psychic really said that?” Jo asked, seeming as stunned by the idea as Maggie had been—and still was. She took another swallow of the acrid wine, then nodded.
Ever-practical Jo considered that for a moment, then stated quite reasonably, “Maybe we should stick around and check all this out.”
Maggie just stared at the stage, gulping her wine like it was juice.
Maggie now understood what the phrase “liquid courage” meant. She was sipping her third glass of the cheap, vinegary wine. It was tasting decidedly better with each glass.
“I think you should slow down,” Jo warned her, leaning toward her to be heard over the loud notes of a Kansas song.
Maggie nodded, but she felt a lot better than she had. She suspected there was a fine line, however, and if she kept going she might get a little outrageous.
She looked back up at the stage, watching Ren’s every move. Would that necessarily be a bad thing? She grimaced at her own train of thought and resisted taking another sip of her drink.
She really liked the way he moved, and his hair. Who knew hair could be so sensual? She swayed with the music. With him.
She really liked the fact that his eyes kept finding hers in the crowded room.
“I think I am going to have a fling with him,” she suddenly announced. Then she looked down at her plastic tumbler of wine. Okay, she was really too late on this outrageous thing, wasn’t she?
“I think you should,” Erika said.
Jo didn’t say anything, but Maggie didn’t get the feeling she was opposed to the idea. She seemed to still be considering the pros and cons of the plan.
It was good someone was. Maggie considered asking her what she thought. After all, between the warm hum in her veins from the wine and watching Ren, she was now feeling pretty good. And she kept thinking the idea of touching him was pretty good too.
But before she could ask Jo what she thought, Ren announced that the band was taking a break. And unlike last night, as soon as he made the announcement, he stepped down from the stage and headed right to her.
“Hi,” he said, and stopped an arm’s length away from her. Which Maggie found very disappointing. She liked it when he touched her. Just remembering how close he’d been when they were out on the street made her skin tingle.
She stepped closer, even as she told herself not to; that he might not want her getting closer. He didn’t move away, instead he leaned toward her, his mouth very close to her ear, his hair brushing hers.
“What are you drinking?” His breath was warm against her skin.
She closed her eyes briefly as a shot of desire ricocheted through her body.
“Wine,” she managed.
He straightened, reaching for her hand. He lifted both her hand and glass to his mouth and took a sip, then grimaced.
“I know a place that serves much better drinks. Want to go there with me after this last set?”
“Sure,” she said, both scared and thrilled with the idea of being alone with him. Funny how quickly her wine-fueled bravado could evaporate.
He grinned, obviously pleased she had agreed. “Good. I’ll try to make this set a short one.”
She nodded.
He reached for her hand again, and again lifted both her fingers and her glass to his mouth. He took a lingering sip of the cheap wine, watching her reaction over the rim of the cup.
She breathed in slowly through her nose, trying to calm her thundering heart. God, he was so sinfully sexy.
When he finished, he grinned again. “Oh yeah, the place I’m going to take you is so much better.” He gazed at her a moment longer, then nodded at Jo and Erika and turned to bound back up onto the stage.
“Yeah,” Jo stated, her voice dead certain, “you are so going to have a fling with him.”
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