Sisters in Love (Snow Sisters Book One: Love in Bloom Series #1) Page 4

  Kaylie elbowed her. “Here he comes!”

  He was there, standing right in front of her in his black, button-down shirt and black slacks, his thick, wavy hair perfectly coiffed like Patrick Dempsey’s. A smile spread across his cheeks; his teeth were like little, polished pearls, perfectly formed and as white as snow. He knows he’s hot. He’s an egomaniac for sure. But something was different from when she’d first seen him. His eyes had lost their roguish spark. He looked…sad. Surely she was misreading him. What did she know about him, anyway? This was probably his sullen pick-up look.

  “Hi.” Kaylie touched his forearm. “I’m Kaylie.”

  His green eyes flicked toward Kaylie, then right back to Danica. “Hi, Kaylie. I’m Blake.”

  “This is Danica,” Kaylie said quickly.

  Danica could actually feel her heart turning soft against her steeled reserve. His deep voice reeled her in. He leaned down and kissed Danica on the cheek. Tommy Hilfiger cologne assaulted her senses and weakened her knees.

  “The nose looks better,” he said.

  “You’re the one who bonked her nose?” Kaylie turned her back to Blake and mouthed to Danica, That’s the jerk?

  Danica nodded.

  Kaylie mouthed, Oh my God, and her eyes sprang open wide.

  “It’s much better,” Danica responded.

  “I really don’t make a habit of going around elbowing women. I’m sorry.”

  His swarthiness had toned down a notch. Her therapist senses came to attention. “It’s okay. Are you with—” She pointed to Jeffrey, who was buying a round of drinks at the bar.

  “Jeffrey? We know each other from college. He came by the shop the other day to get some gear and mentioned he’d be here tonight.”

  “Gear?” Danica asked.

  Jeffrey handed a beer to Blake and piña coladas to Danica and Kaylie.

  “Thanks, man,” Blake said.

  “I see you’ve met these lovely ladies,” Jeffrey said. He turned toward Danica and answered, “Ski gear. Blake owns AcroSki, just down the block. I got to go give my girl a squeeze.” He headed for the booth where the others had settled in.

  Of course he does. Mr. Perfect, drop-dead gorgeous and a business owner.

  “AcroSki? What’s the Acro for?” Kaylie asked, as she slowly drank in every inch of Blake while she twirled her hair.

  Danica watched Kaylie give Blake her best I-wanna-fuck-you look, her eyes soft and dark, the signature lick of her lips, and…Don’t do it. Don’t entice a guy who I can’t decide if I want to make out with or kick in the ass…Please don’t do it.

  Kaylie dropped her finger from the end of her curl to her open neckline, then ran it along the crest of her breast and looked down, as if she’d had a tickle there.

  Blake’s eyes followed. “Acro, you know, for acrobatic?” He took a swig of his beer, shifting his eyes from Kaylie’s breasts to Danica. He raised the beer bottle in her direction, as if to say, Hey there.

  Danica’s insides tightened. Is he just being nice or flirting? Kaylie would know the difference. Danica had no clue.

  Kaylie touched his hand. “Wait. You actually do acrobatics on skis? Like jumps and stuff?”

  Danica had seen that touch a thousand times. Next she’d laugh, throw her head back, and expose that gorgeous neck that men could not resist. Anger rose within her. Why was she angry? Let Kaylie have him. Who cared? She looked away in an effort to let go of the anger. Her eyes immediately found their way back to him. The simmering heat in her body remained.

  “Jumps, flips, spins, you name it, I can do it.” He shot a glance at Danica and winked.

  “Of course you can,” Danica snipped. Asshole. “He’s all yours,” she said to Kaylie, and didn’t dare look at Blake for fear of finding yet another thing way too handsome to ignore. She felt his stare burning into her back as she headed for the nearby booth where Camille, Chelsea, Marie, and Stephanie were leaning head-to-head, drinks at the ready within their perfectly manicured fingers. They’d left their men behind for the girls' night out, and Danica wondered if they’d minded that Jeff had crashed their outing. Love drove Jeff there. She could see it in the glow in his eyes, and a nagging need in the back of her mind wanted to feel that same love.

  She was proud of herself for walking away from Blake. The last thing she needed was a guy with roaming eyes…or anything else that tended to roam. A familiar feeling crept in like a giant spider, wrapping itself around her muscles and squeezing them so tightly that she wanted to scream. She bit back the jealousy she’d so often felt toward Kaylie and sat in the booth. While watching Kaylie and Blake out of the corner of her eye, she downed another drink and leaned in to hear what the girls were talking about.

  “His name’s Blake,” Camille explained while the girls salivated.

  Of course…

  Chapter Seven

  Blake watched Danica walk away and took another swig of his beer. She was feisty, with a killer body and the sexiest hair he’d ever seen. There weren’t many women who walked away from him. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last one who had. He watched her huddled with the other women at the table. He longed to touch her wild, unkempt hair, to slide his hand under that mass of curls and touch the hidden skin beneath. Why was he so drawn to someone who clearly did not like him?

  “I would love to go with you sometime. Skiing, I mean. Maybe you could teach me how to do some of those tricks.”

  He turned back to Kaylie. The thought of hitting the slopes so soon after Dave’s death turned his stomach. Dave. Blake closed his eyes for a minute, remembering Dave’s anger as he’d stomped away. He couldn’t believe he was really gone, and he didn’t want to think about it now. It hurt too much. He snuck another glimpse at Danica. He needed something to keep his mind off of Dave’s death, but Kaylie wasn’t the answer. She was too sweet, too easy.

  “I’m free this weekend. I mean, if you’re going.”

  She was practically standing on top of him. Her straight, blond hair flowed like silk across her shoulders, a few manufactured curls spread throughout. He looked around the crowded bar and counted at least four guys staring at her. The competitive side of him reared up even though he wasn’t sure he wanted her for himself. He gently touched her upper arm, staking claim, and at the same time, he glanced over at one of the men. The man immediately looked away. As he drew his eyes back to Kaylie, he skimmed the table where Danica sat nursing another drink.

  Danica turned around. Their eyes locked. She squinted at him, not a friendly squint, more of a how-dare-you squint.

  She turned away.

  He realized he was still holding Kaylie’s arm. He dropped his hand and said, “I’m not going skiing anytime soon.” I have to get out of here.

  “Well, we could still get together. I’m sure you have other tricks you could share with me,” Kaylie said with a playful smirk.

  Blake remembered his reflection in the mirror after the quickie with the redhead. He hadn’t liked what he’d seen, and now, with the loss of his best friend, which he was desperately trying to forget for just a few more hours, the last thing he wanted was to be sexy and coy. He’d come to the bar on the prowl for an outlet, and Danica and this friend of hers were messing with his mojo.

  He set his sights on Danica and chugged the rest of his beer, held it up toward the bartender, then sucked down half of the new one in one gulp. He felt caught between what would be the right thing to do—go home and mourn his friend—and the way his body was betraying him. He didn’t want to be the guy who had meaningless sex with any beautiful and willing woman anymore, but his body was aching for the familiar release. With a woman in his arms, he could focus on the pleasure, maybe even turn his mind off completely, forget the pain of it all, and lose himself in the heat of the moment.

  He eyed a blonde at the end of the bar. “Look, your friends are getting together. Why don’t you join them?” He walked away, leaving Kaylie to stare after him, her jaw hanging open. He raised his beer in the dire
ction of the blonde and she waved him over.

  Danica steeled herself against the edge of the booth so Marie could get past her and go to the ladies’ room. The floor swayed beneath her feet. Shit, she’d had a lot to drink.

  Kaylie took the seat near where Danica stood and accepted a beer from the young, melon-boobed waitress. Kaylie’s face was pinched tight. Danica tried to read her angry eyes but had a hard time focusing.

  “Told you he was a jerk,” she slurred.

  “I’m fine, and he’s not. He’s just not interested.” Kaylie sighed.

  Blake sat at the bar with the blonde. His eyes darted over. Danica shot him a nasty sneer. “Only a douche wouldn’t be interested in you.” She swayed toward the booth.

  Kaylie pulled her down to sit beside her. “Jesus, how many have you had?”

  “I don’t know. Three, four. Five, maybe? I’m fine. You always tell me to get out and live a little. That’s what I’m doing. Living.”

  “I said you locked yourself up in your office too much. I never said to get sloshed and leave me to fend for myself.” She looked in Blake’s direction. “Can you believe he doesn’t want me?” Kaylie pouted, pulling at the label on the beer bottle.

  He wants anyone from nineteen to ninety-nine, guaranteed. Danica stared at the hunk of a man who was Blake Carter, trying to figure out why he rubbed her the wrong way—and why he also rubbed her in enough of the right ways to make butterflies swirl in her stomach like a lovesick teenager. The insanely big-boobed waitress handed him another beer. Blake leaned in close and said something in her ear. His fiery eyes shifted, then caught on Danica.

  Just one look from his sexy, roving eyes was all it took. Oh yeah, that’s why.

  An hour later, Danica was dying to get home. She couldn’t watch Blake, whom she’d renamed in her head as Mr. Arrogant, any longer. Two blondes flanked him at the bar. She looked around and wondered when Camille and the others had left. Had she been watching Blake the whole time? She remembered listening to bits and pieces of the conversations, and at some point someone handed her another drink. Heat ran up her chest. Was she that drunk?

  Kaylie whispered in Danica’s ear, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Danica peered around her little sister. In her drunken haze, the bar swirled. An adorable guy with dirty-blond hair was holding Kaylie’s hand. “Who’s that?” she slurred.

  “Chaz. You okay to walk home?”

  Danica swatted the air. “Sheesh, yeah, it's only a couple blocks. Go. Have fun.” She watched Kaylie walk away and took that cue as her time to leave. She hadn’t been this drunk since she and John broke up; it hadn’t helped back then, either. She pushed to her feet as Blake and his entourage stood. He was heading her way, one arm around each of the women.

  It’s now or never. She pushed herself in the direction of the door, hoping to beat him to the exit.

  “You okay to drive?” Blake asked as they came in step with her.

  Damn heels. “I walked,” she said, swaying on her feet.

  “You sure you can make it?” He took a hand from around one skinny woman’s waist and reached for Danica’s arm to steady her.

  Danica’s heartbeat sped up. Goose bumps rushed up her arms, prickling her nerves and sending fire through her limbs. She looked into his smoldering eyes, his face inches from hers.

  Each blonde had a hand on his back, placing claim.

  “I’m good. Really. Thanks.” Let me go or I might kiss you. Where did that come from?

  Blake took his hand back, then said in a hushed, soothing voice, “Okay, but if you need me, I’m right here.”

  Oh yeah, I need you all right. Danica noticed that he didn’t put his arms back around the women. She wanted to feel his hand on her again. She managed a nod, and he walked away between the two blondes, leaving her alone. What else is new?

  Outside, she looked up and down the street. She’d been to Bar None a zillion times before, but tonight, too many piña coladas had stolen her sense of direction. She stumbled on her skyscraper heels and tumbled as she came off the curb, landing on her palms, her butt aiming up at the darkened sky.

  “That’s a great angle.”

  Blake. Danica pushed herself to her feet. Her ankle screamed out in pain, and she fell down to her butt on the side of the curb with an embarrassed gasp.

  “Whoa.” He sat down beside her, his leg touching hers.

  She stared at his muscular thigh, feeling like a fool and wanting to touch him all at once.

  “Those things are dangerous. Let me check your ankle.” He moved off the curb and crouched in front of her. He lifted her leg at the knee and slid his hand over her ankle and up the sleek leather boot. She felt the heat of his palm all the way up the back of her calf. He slid them down slowly, as if he’d done it many times before, and slipped her stockinged foot carefully from the boot. Her foot dangled in the air between them.

  Danica’s head spun. It had been way too long since she’d felt her body react to a man’s touch. She leaned back and closed her eyes. “It’s fine,” she whispered. One of his hands softly held her calf, sending a tingling sensation up her thighs. His other hand held her foot. His palms were warm and big. She wondered what they would feel like moving up her leg. Blake wiggled her foot, sending a searing pain through her ankle. Her eyes flew open. “Ouch!” She sat up and pulled her leg from his grasp, causing him to lose his balance and fall forward. He caught himself with his arms on either side of her waist, his face just above her chest. For a second, they just stared at each other. She held her breath, then realized he was doing the same.

  He lowered his elbows, his lips coming closer to hers. “You okay?” he whispered.

  His eyes bore into hers.

  “You’ve asked me that a lot lately.”

  He smiled. “I guess I have.”

  God, he’s impossibly gorgeous. Danica looked around, and even in her drunken state, she knew they must have been quite the sight splayed out along the curb of the side street in front of the bar. “We should move,” she said, slipping off her other boot.

  “Right.” He pushed from the ground and then offered her a hand. Danica sat on the curb, unwilling to move. She didn’t trust herself not to jump him. She felt like Belinda or Kaylie. All she could think about were his lips.

  “Wait one second.” He grabbed her boots from the ground. “Wow. No wonder you fell. These are killer heels.”

  “Where are your girlfriends?” she asked as she reached for his hand. The icy road beneath her bare feet made her shiver.

  He pulled her to her feet, and she immediately collapsed back to the curb with a cry of pain.

  “Uh-oh, you did do some damage. Want me to take you to the emergency room? It might be broken.”

  Emergency room? She couldn’t think past the wonder of where his entourage was. She shook her head. “Where are your girlfriends?” she asked again.

  “They’re not my girlfriends. I can’t help it if they clung to me.” He sat down beside her, his shoulder touching Danica’s.

  She liked the feel of him. It had been so long since she’d been with a man. She’d almost forgotten the way a man’s touch could make her heart soar. Maybe just this once, just one night? Behave, woman, she told herself. Now you sound like Belinda. You know he’s a player. Don’t rationalize.

  “No emergency room. I’m fine. It’s just twisted. I just need to get home. I live right around the corner, at The Heights condominiums. I can walk.”

  “No, you can’t.”

  Pfft! She swatted the air. “I’m fine. Really, go.”

  “How about if I just drive you to your complex?”

  Danica thought of Belinda again, and reality sobered her. “It’s okay. I’ll call a cab. Thanks, though.”

  “You sure? How about if I stay with you while you wait?” Blake looked at her with empathy, and Danica thought she saw desire hovering in his eyes.

  “I’m really not that kind of girl, even if I’m drunk. Maybe you should have gon
e home with the Barbie twins.”

  Blake’s jaw dropped. “Look, you don’t even know me. I wasn’t going to try anything, and I think that’s pretty presumptuous of you.” The hurt in his voice was palpable.

  “I’m sorr—”

  Blake was already heading for his car. He waved his hand dismissively behind him.

  Great, now you can add bitch to your typically frigid self.

  Chapter Eight

  The morning light peeked in through the unfamiliar curtains. Blake slid off the bed and slithered into his jeans as silent as a mouse, a skill he’d spent the last twenty years refining. His head felt like a fog-filled balloon. He really needed to cut back on the tequila chasers. He tightened his belt around his slim waist and glanced in the mirror. He did a once-over, checking for fingernail marks, hickeys, or any of the other calling cards women left as their claim on him. No marks. A relieved sigh escaped his lips. He leaned over the dresser, closer to the mirror, and touched the peppery whiskers along his jaw. Yesterday he would have thought, Damn. I’ve still got it. Today, Blake saw an aging, selfish, lonely man. He’d spent the last several hours trying to escape the reality of his best friend’s death, but now it found him like a vulture on prey, settling heavy and dark upon his shoulders.

  He pulled his light-blue Henley over his thick, dark hair and smoothed it against the six-pack he worked so hard to maintain. With one last glance at the buxom brunette’s shapely, bare ass, he headed for the door. He hadn’t wanted to go home alone last night, and she’d been just what he needed. After that bitch Danica pegged him for just what he was, he’d needed a release and returned to the bar. Get in, have fun, and get out, he reminded himself. For all the years he could remember, that had been his motto. Dave had coined him as the Lady Slayer. Only, today, he wasn’t on the high that he usually felt after a satisfying conquest. And Rozy, or Willow—he couldn’t remember which—had definitely been satisfying. Today, he looked at her naked body and felt nothing but loneliness. Sally and Rusty would wake up soon and realize that Dave was really gone. Blake knew he couldn’t run from the hurt that was clawing at his heart, but he could ignore it.