Afterward, I thought of Colin under the covers.
He’s a friend, he’s a friend, he’s a friend.
That was how I would see him this weekend, too, at the event. I didn’t have room in my complicated life for anything more.
I’d shut the door on more, and I had no intentions of opening it again. All the troubles that came with men would stay on the other side, thank you very much.
4
Colin
The Night of the Community Center Beethoven Concert Benefit . . .
The sparrows were a treasure map, weaving a path from her right shoulder blade, along her sexy, elegant neck, then curving into her hair. Rich chestnut hair I longed to have my hands in.
Preferably tonight.
Because . . . well, why the hell not? We’d spent the last year building this friendship. Maybe it was finally time to see what else we could be.
After all, Elle was in a good mood as we wandered through the crowd in The Venetian Ballroom, hanging out, as we’d agreed to do. No surprise about the mood—the haul tonight for the center had been terrific so far, and now Elle was waiting on the final number.
Looked like it might be coming any second, since Sophie click-clacked her way across the floor, her eyes fixed on Elle. When the woman who’d organized the fundraiser reached us, she said, “I have amazing news.”
“Tell me,” Elle said, nearly bouncing on her toes.
“This is how much we raised tonight.” Sophie slipped Elle a piece of paper. With trembling fingers, Elle flipped open the folded piece, then gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. Her eyes welled with tears, and my heart thumped, hammering hard against my chest. I was so damn happy for her.
Elle threw her arms around Sophie. “You did this. You made it possible,” Elle said, her voice breaking.
Sophie shook her head deferentially. “Oh, sweetie. You did. You run an amazing center. You’re doing incredible things. People simply want to help.”
A lone tear streaked down Elle’s cheek as she broke the embrace. “Nothing is simple about what you do. Thank you. We can do so much with this.”
Sophie grabbed Elle’s hands, squeezing them. “You’ll do good.” Then she turned to me. “And thank you for being a part of making this possible.”
“It’s my pleasure,” I said, thrilled that my venture capital firm had contributed to tonight’s fundraising.
“And now I need to go mingle,” Sophie added.
“Go, mingle,” I said, then whispered, “And say hi to Ryan for me.”
She laughed it off. “Say hi to your brother yourself.”
Sophie headed off, perhaps to find my brother after all, since they were an item. But I wasn’t thinking of the two of them when I returned my focus to the woman with me.
I was only thinking of my friend.
Maybe tonight we’d become more.
Especially since she launched herself at me, wrapping her arms around me now in a triumphant hug, exhaling big sighs of relief.
“Whoa,” I said, not expecting the force of her embrace.
“Sorry. I’m just so happy.”
“No apologies necessary,” I said, clasping her tighter. I was not going to let her go.
She laughed, a buoyant sound, like bells. “I can’t believe this happened,” she said, breathless. “It feels like a dream.”
“I didn’t doubt it for a second. We’re all behind you,” I said, stealing a quick inhalation of the vanilla-honey scent of her hair.
She broke the embrace, but not the contact. She parked her hands on my shoulders, her fingers curling into my suit jacket. Her hazel eyes shone with happiness and the hint of more joyful tears. “I know, and I’m so grateful. But you just don’t know till it happens if you’re going to raise enough money, and I’ve been working on this project for two years. Two solid years to finally get the funds to expand the center. It needs it so badly. I felt like I’d been holding my breath for the last month, hoping we’d hit our number. I have so many plans.”
“And now you can take a breath because you made it happen,” I said, beaming. She’d been driven in her mission to rebuild the broken-down community center.
She wiped her fingertip under her eye, erasing the evidence of that tear. “Colin,” she whispered, as if we had a secret, “we have to celebrate tonight.”
I could think of a few ways.
Unknotting that hair.
Roping my fingers through it.
Kissing her neck till she fell apart in my arms.
“Are you angling for a little poker?” I asked, since I wasn’t going to assume we shared the same idea of what constituted a celebration. No need to make an ass of me, thank you very much.
“Yes,” she said, her eyes glinting.
And so it was poker.
I wasn’t sure why I’d thought it would be something more.
Wait. That wasn’t true. I always wanted something more. And tonight—tonight I was going to let her know. Damn straight.
It had been a year after all, and the woman was as happy as a thousand clams. What better time? Besides, I knew how to read people, and we had a vibe, a connection, a flirtation.
No time like the present to see what might come of it.
“Do you want to play? After the event?” she added in a conspiratorial tone. By no means was Elle a high roller—the baby tables, as she called them, were her idea of a good time. But she was a Vegas girl at heart and loved to gamble now and then. “I don’t have much time before I need to get home, but we can finagle a few hands.”
I scoffed. “What kind of question is that? Do you take me for a man who doesn’t want to celebrate with you?” I was a man who knew how to sniff out an opportunity. I wasn’t letting this chance, cloaked in this giddy exuberance of hers, slip away.
“Not at all. You look like a man who wants to lay down some bets,” she said with a sexy arch of her eyebrow.
Did I ever want to take a chance. “The chips are on me.”
“In that case, let’s make big bets,” she said in a flirty voice. God, I loved that tone. I ate it up.
“The biggest,” I added, then gestured to the exit. “I’m ready when you are, big spender.”
She tipped her head to the stage. “After the concert. I can’t skip out early on an event for the center I run.”
“Okay, we’ll be good a little while longer.” I raised a hand to brush a loose strand of that chestnut hair over her ear, watching her shiver as I touched her.
Yup. Another sign.
Tonight was it.
We returned to our seats, where she gathered up the silky material of her dress, adjusting it as she crossed her legs. “By the way,” she whispered, “I want to hear more about your new tattoo.”
I grinned. I’d mentioned earlier in the night that I’d acquired fresh ink, and Elle, being a tattoo aficionado too, wanted details on the new one on my hip.
“I’ll tell you when we play poker.”
“I can’t wait.”
I couldn’t either.
As the opening notes of a Beethoven Concerto floated through the ballroom at The Venetian, I settled in beside the woman I’d wanted for the last year, since the first day I’d met her.