Timothy Rockwell sat at the dimly lit bar casually watching people shimmy and gyrate on the dance floor. There was a time he would have been out there doing the same thing. He observed one couple dry humping to the beat, all but fucking right there in front of everyone. He couldn’t be the only one to notice. But when he glanced around, the rest of the half-drunk patrons didn’t seem to see them, that or chose to ignore the blatant display. Deciding to follow suit, he turned his attention back to his beer.
Christ, what the hell was he doing here? Tim took a swig of his lukewarm beer. He knew exactly why he was here. His sister and buddies gave him an intervention. Fucking intervention, for Christ’s sake.
"Tim, it’s been six months since Debra left you. It’s time you got back out there."
That from his sister who never liked Deb to begin with. She loved sitting there tossing out the I told you so’s one after the other with a wide grin.
And his so-called friends, yeah, those bastards stood behind his adorable sister, adding fuel to the fire. Why couldn’t they let him work through this in his own way? Six months, fuck, that was nothing more than a tick of a clock compared to the two years he and Deb shared together. Did they actually expect him to forget everything as if it never happened?
"You’re not the same person."
"You need your confidence back."
"Find a woman looking for nothing but a good time and clear Deb out of your system."
"Move on. You’re better off without her."
On and on the advice spewed until he thought he’d lose his mind. It was either agree to this trip or become stark raving mad. He’d tried moving on in his own way. He put in extra hours at work, went to the gym and pumped iron until he was too tired to think about her. He had a handle on it.
Tim rubbed his hand over his face. Who was he kidding? He couldn’t stand himself either. Snarling and snapping at everyone, even himself. No wonder his sister and friends wanted him out of town. They got a vacation as well.
He lifted his head, casually scanned the bar and found a woman sitting at the other end, watching him. His first instinct was to look away. After two years of never noticing another woman because he thought he had the perfect one, it felt strange. Tim forced himself to glance in her direction again.
Yep, she still had her eyes focused in his direction. Pretty eyes, too. Warm, sparkly. He pulled his focus back to take in her entire face. Whoa, she was gorgeous—thick, lush lips, long, flowing chestnut-brown hair and bare shoulders. Those lips turned up into a brilliant smile that sent a punch to his gut.
She looked younger than him. Not that he was old. He never considered thirty-two a time to start picking out grave plots or anything. Still, she couldn’t be much more than early twenties.
His young admirer leaned forward and sealed those shiny, sinful lips around a straw while gazing at him. Tim’s throat dried up, bone, desert dry. An excited tingle hit his groin. Something he hadn’t felt in far too long. Even his brain woke up.
He must have looked pathetic because when she parted her lips and released the straw, she laughed. He took a quick peek into the mirror behind the bar and saw his stupid teenaged expression. Way to go, Rockwell. A sexy young woman makes eye contact with you and you freak the fuck out.
Doing his best to mask the eager virgin look with one of boredom, he lifted his beer and peered over the rim of the glass. Hottie stood up from her stool, grabbed her drink and started walking. Great, he chased her off. Chalk one up for the sad loser.
All that tingling in his thighs and lower abdomen fizzled away. "Guess I’ll never know what those lips can do," he mumbled. Disgusted with himself, he gave one last look her way.
Holy hell, Hottie was still watching him and heading his way. No tingling this time. No, a full-blown fire flared to life in his jeans and spread as he got a good look at what she was wearing. That glove-tight, off-the-shoulder, deep-blue top she wore accentuated her full, perky breasts. As he forced his gaze to drop, he discovered said top stopped an inch above her navel.
Tim swallowed hard. A sexy navel with, God help him, a matching blue gem piercing. The sudden urge to lick it hit like a bolt of lightning. Did he jerk on his stool? Hold it together, moron. Don’t chase her away.
Before she made it to the stool beside him, he took in the tan shorts and ten miles of slender, sexy legs decorated at the feet with basic black sandals. He nearly groaned when he saw her toenails painted the exact shade of blue as her top and bellybutton piercing. Could toes be sexy? He never noticed before.
His admirer cocked her hip and slid onto the stool next to him. Tim fought to keep from panting. It wouldn’t look good to open his mouth and drool. Big fucking turn-off.
"Mind if I join you?"
Luscious heat soothed over his body at the sound of her rich, smoky voice. Added to that, a light ocean breeze scent settled around him. Jesus, she smelled as fresh and vibrant as she looked. Tim swallowed hard, nodded and hoped he didn’t sound like a pubescent teen when he spoke.
"Not at all." He could feel his heart beat in his throat with each word.
"I’m Jasmine." As she spoke she held out her hand.
Hoping his palms weren’t sweaty, Tim took her hand in his. "It’s nice to meet you, Jasmine." He liked the way her name rolled off his tongue, and her firm but gentle handshake. "That’s a pretty name. I’m Tim."
"It’s an old family name. Tell me, Tim, what brings you to Florida?"
More than a little surprised that she knew he wasn’t local, Tim chuckled. "That obvious?"
One slender, sun-kissed shoulder hiked up slightly in a shrug. "I’m good at reading people. It’s sort of a hobby."
The tip of her finger slid around the rim of her glass. "Vacation," he muttered, mesmerized by her gentle touch. What would it feel like to be touched like that?
"Are you having fun?" She picked up her glass, sealed her lips around the straw and drew the bright-yellow drink into her mouth.
God, she had phenomenal lips. A door opened on that part of his brain that he closed when he and Deb started dating. To hell with never noticing another woman’s mouth. That would be the first thing he looked at from now on.
"I am now."
"You came here alone?" She set her glass down and lightly stroked the thin stem.
"Yeah, I’m here alone. My friends and family said I’ve been working too hard and wasn’t much fun anymore. I guess they thought I needed a change of scenery." He’d been staring at the beach for nearly a week, half-ass watching all the young women running around barely covered. Jasmine was the first picture of beauty he’d seen.
"Well, let’s see if we can have some fun."
Jasmine stood and sauntered toward the DJ. Tim nearly fell off his stool watching her long legs move, not to mention the perfect little sway of her hips. If this was a dream he didn’t want to wake up. Please, no one wake him up.
She smiled at the DJ, he leaned down and she spoke into his ear. After a quick nod and a huge-ass smile, she headed back toward the bar. Tim swigged his beer, hoping it would moisten his parched throat. No such luck. This woman burned him up.
A rocking little Spanish song blared out into the bar. Jasmine hooked her finger inside the front of his shirt and tugged him toward the dance floor. He had the image of himself following like a puppy with his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.
"I don’t know how to dance," he shouted over the music. Great, now he’d seriously look like a fool.
Jasmine smiled, put one hand on his shoulder, took his and placed it on her hip. "It’s not hard. Follow me."
He expected some outrageous, gyrating, spaz attack dance. What he got was an easy one-two step with a little hip shimmy, and man did he enjoy feeling her hip beneath his palm. Halfway through the tune he realized he was smiling and laughing. Before he knew it, he found himself singing along. Sure, he didn’t have a clue what the words meant, but they rolled sweetly off his tongue, kind of like her name.
When the song ended she led him into another simple dance to a more modern tune. As everyone around them did the bump and grind, Jasmine moved more seductively. Tim loosely wrapped his arm around her waist as she swayed her hips. Every once in a while her breasts would brush against his chest. The slight, barely there whisper of soft flesh stole his breath, but not nearly as much as when she moved in closer, turned sideways and let her hip skim over his semi-erection.
He knew he had no business being with this vivacious woman. She dressed, moved and conducted herself with class. He wore a pair of faded jeans and classic white tee, moved to the music with a clumsy jerk and had no clue how to casually flirt. And he didn’t give a damn.
Jasmine made him smile, made him feel alive and worthwhile again. After six months of wallowing in self-pity, it felt good to have the attention of a beautiful woman.
*******
I hope you enjoy!
