He immediately sheds his jacket and hands it to me. The leather is worn and smooth, and for a moment I just hold it against me. It smells like him, and the warmth and scent is so comforting after the night I’ve had that I feel tears prick at the back of my eyes before I manage to get a grip on myself.
“Put that on. November in Texas might not be that cold, but I can’t believe you left the house in just that dress. Or did you lose a coat too?”
I tilt my head to the side and survey him with a frown before tugging the jacket on. “And you called me bossy.”
He smiles for half a second, but then his expression turns serious. “But really, what happened? Are you okay? Your face as you left that club … Are you … Did—”
“I’m fine. I swear. Just a weird night.”
He reaches forward and pulls both sides of the coat together, cocooning me inside. His hands slip up, and I bite my lip, wanting him to put just a little more pressure behind that light touch. He lifts the collar, so that my face is blocked from the wind, and his knuckles graze my cheek.
I can tell he’s not going to let it go. He’s going to keep digging, and I have no idea what I could possibly say. “Where’s Gwen?” I ask quickly, and it’s such a stupid question, but it’s the first thing that pops into my head. Like he would bring his daughter out for a night on the town. God, I don’t even know what time it is. Sometime before two when the bars start to close, that’s all I know. She’s probably at home with her mother. His girlfriend, maybe. My stomach turns, and his hands drop from the jacket, making the sensation worsen.
“She’s at home with my mother.” I feel an inkling of relief before he adds, “Our mother. She’s my little sister.” That almost smile drives me almost mad again. “I tried to tell you, but you bolted out of the store. Left your ice cream and cookies behind.”
Oh gods. Could I have made a bigger fool of myself? Why is he even standing here with me? He should think I’m crazy. All I’ve done is act it around him.
“Sorry, I had to go.”
“Yeah … you said. You seemed a little spooked.”
“I wasn’t spooked. I just remembered something I had to do.”
His expression tells me he doesn’t believe me, and I fight not to blush. I must fail because his hand goes back to my face, a thumb dragging over the exact spot where I can feel the heat rising on my skin. His eyes are big and dark as he scans my face, and when he leans in, his body comes incredibly close to mine. “Is it strange that I wanted to go after you? I think I might have, if Gwen hadn’t been with me.”
I swallow once. Then again. Because it’s not strange. He’s reacting to my ability, to the way I look. I don’t exclusively influence men, but they open up a lot easier to a pretty face than most girls do.
He continues, “Though I think Gwen would have been all too happy to chase you too. I don’t know how you did it, but she was a complete angel the rest of the day. Didn’t throw a single fit. I think I might have to call you Saint Kalli if you continue to work miracles like that.”
I shrug. “She’s sweet.”
He barks a laugh, dipping his chin toward his chest, and dropping his hand. “Sometimes. Yeah.” He takes a few steps back; it’s then that I notice what he’d been hiding beneath his jacket and the button down he’d worn the first time we met.
His skin is covered in ink, from his wrists, all the way up and under the sleeves of his fitted tee. I barely have time to take in the art or contemplate this new puzzle piece of this man before his eyes catch sight of my feet again. Then he’s all business. The line of his jaw is hard, stern, and that almost smile is long gone. He looks angry, either with me or with himself for forgetting.
“You didn’t tell me where your car is.”
“I, uh, didn’t bring it. It’s still back at my apartment.”
He frowns, and I hope he’ll just assume that I caught a cab.
“And you don’t know where your shoes are?”
I shrug and smile because I’m pretty positive I’m better off sticking to nonverbal communication at the moment. Just smile and look pretty, that usually works for most things.
He shakes his head and says, “I’ll take you home. But my car is a bit of a walk from here.”
“It’s fine. I’ll just catch a cab.”
He lifts an eyebrow and says, “Do you have money?”
I glance down, and sure enough, he’s right. I don’t have anything with me. No purse, no wallet, nothing. I’m not even sure how I got into that club without an ID. I must have charmed the bouncer, but I don’t really remember.
When I don’t answer he says, “Right. My car it is then.”
He surveys me again, then turns to the side a little and says, “Hop on.”
I blanch. “Hop on?”
“It’s about five or six blocks to my car. No way I’m letting you walk all that way barefoot. I’d carry you in my arms, but …” He trails off, and his eyes linger along the hem of my dress that falls loose around my thighs and would no doubt flash the world if he were to hold me against his chest.
He clears his throat, and when he looks back at me, his eyes are hooded and his gaze drops briefly to my mouth. He turns away quickly and says again, his voice clipped, “Hop on.” I step up behind him and lay my hands atop his shoulders. The muscles bunch and harden beneath my touch, and I know my assumption that day at the grocery store was correct. He might spend his days hiding beneath business clothes, but he has an incredible body beneath.