Page 34 of Dangerous Attraction

A few moments pass, and when he still doesn't make a move to talk, a laugh bubbles up my throat.

"You're not very good at talking to people, are you?" I ask, dropping my gaze to his hands that are gently tapping against the wooden surface of the bar.

I'm finally able to see the tattoos running along his fingers and the backs of his hands, and when I read the word 'hope' across his left hand, I smile.

"Do any of your tattoos have a meaning?"

I'm aware he never answered my previous question, and he's unlikely to answer this one as well, but that doesn't mean it's not worth a try.

His movements halt, and he sits stock still.

My lips twist, and I nervously play with the edge of my cardigan sleeves.

Maybe that was the wrong question to ask him.

Thankfully, Munch slides up to the bar beside him and asks for a beer.

Taking advantage of the distraction, I take a beer from the fridge, pop the cap off, and hand it over to him.

"Thanks, doll," he says, plodding back to the booth he's been sitting in with Mackie.

"Love and hope are both things I believe everyone deserves to have in life," Reeve mutters, bringing my attention back to him.

He smooths his thumb over the word hope, then trails his fingers up the length of his arm, over the skulls and roses littered across his forearm, then back down.

The move causes my stomach to tighten and my thighs to clamp together as I imagine his fingers gently brushing across my skin in the same way.

"The rest of them I simply got because I like the look of them."

Swallowing, I nod, dragging my eyes away from him, finding him far too enticing.

"Do you want a drink?" I ask, turning to face the shelves behind me so I don't have to look at him.

When he doesn't answer, I peek over my shoulder, thinking he may have left, but he's still sitting there, watching me intently with a smirk playing on his lips.

He shakes his head.

"I'm good," he says, pushing himself off the stool, and standing to his full height, towering above me. "See you later, Red."

He walks away, leaving me flustered and confused.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I open up my text thread with Emery.

Trix:

I think I'm turning into a whore for tattooed men

Older, extremely good looking, bearded, tattooed men who are grumpy and seem to dislike me

Jesus, I need help

Placing my hands on my hips, I lean back slightly, stretching out my aching back as my tired eyes brush over the empty room.

Night has settled outside, the warm lights in the bar shining brightly as I wipe down the sticky wooden tables.

A loud yawn breaks free, and I quickly cover my mouth with my arm, even though there's nobody here.

I clean the last of the tables, grab the few dirty glasses I left on the side, then make my way into the kitchen.