Author: Aly Martinez
Category: Contemporary
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I quickly collected them and tried to hand them back to her, but she was a woman on the run. And there was not one damn thing that could have stopped me from chasing her.
“Hey, wait!” I called, clueless as to what the hell I could have possibly said wrong. I’d quoted an old movie, not confessed to being an axe murderer.
She made it just outside the pub door before I caught her.
Careful not to touch her, I tucked the cash into the top of her purse and then I stepped in front of her. “Wait. Don’t go.”
She shook her head. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m not ready to get married yet.”
My back shot straight. “Who the hell proposed?”
“Don’t give me that,” she sighed. “Those eyes, that shirt, questionable taste in drinks aside, you know When Harry Met Sally. I am practically three-quarters of the way pregnant with a house in the suburbs and I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Bowen, and as much as I am not suggesting a pregnancy in any way, the last quarter you’re missing is by far the most fun part of the process.”
She tilted her head back and stared up at the night sky. “Oh, God, you’re clever too? It’s going to be twins. I’m too young for this.”
I chuckled, and unable to stop myself, I rested a hand on her hip. “Don’t go. I can’t do much about the eyes, but I promise to roll down the sleeves and put the kibosh on all further conversations about Meg Ryan movies.”
She swayed forward, resting her hand on my chest. I prayed like hell she couldn’t feel my heart trying to escape my rib cage.
“It’s not going to be enough. I don’t know how, but I knew you were going to be trouble before I even walked into the bar. I was kinda hoping you’d prove me wrong and be completely obnoxious.”
I bent at the knees, bringing us eye to eye. “There’s still time, ya know? I have this horrible habit of interrupting people and a peanut allergy that makes eating out super frustrating. Trust me, an hour with me, and I might—”
I stopped midsentence as her breast quite literally sprang from her dress as the thinnest of straps snapped.
“Noooooo!” she gasped, slapping a hand over her black lacy bra.
I tried to be a gentleman and not look, but for fuck’s sake, I was no hero.
“This fucking dress,” she seethed, crossing her arms over her chest, her broken strap dangling over her shoulder. “I swear it’s cursed. As soon as I get home, I’m soaking it in gasoline and burning it to ensure the safety of mankind.”
Fuck. She was funny too, and if I didn’t act fast, I was going to lose her.
Frantic, I glanced around without the first clue how I was going to salvage the moment. She already wanted to leave, and with her dress now broken, I didn’t have much of a shot at convincing her to stay. But nothing was impossible, and when it came to this woman, even if it was, I’d try anyway.
“Do you believe in fate?” I asked, moving into her space.
Tilting her head back, she peered up at me. “Not particularly.”
“Okay, well, I do. So hear me out.” I brushed her blond hair off her shoulder, my fingertips grazing her soft skin. “What if it’s not cursed? What if it’s actually your good luck dress?”
She let out a loud laugh, but she didn’t back away, so I chanced hooking my finger with hers. She not only allowed it, she turned her hand so her fingers braided with mine.
Fuck. Yes.
Okay, breathe.
Do not blow this. Do not fucking blow this.
“I’ve never been to this bar before. You said you hadn’t, either. Atlanta’s a big city. What are the chances that we’d both just happen to end up here tonight? And before you read into this, I’m not proposing or asking you to fall in love with me and especially not asking you to bear my children. But what if we were supposed to meet?” I squeezed her hand. “Don’t go. Let me buy you a drink and get to know you.”
She shook her head. “In case you didn’t notice, I’m having a slight wardrobe malfunction at the moment.”
Victory sang in my veins. That wasn’t a no.
“Okay. Then what if we let fate decide?” I pointed at the door. “If I can find a safety pin in there to fix your dress, you’ll stay and give me a chance. If not, I’ll walk you to your car and let you go…after you’ve given me your number and agree to go out with me tomorrow night.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why do I feel like those odds are stacked in your favor?”
I shrugged. “I don’t make the rules, Sally.”
Her mouth tipped into a lopsided smile. “Well, then, who would I be to deny fate?”
A huge smile split my lips. I didn’t care if I had to origami a safety pin out of a fork. I wasn’t letting that woman go. “Excellent.”
Holding her hand, I led her back into the bar, my gaze flashing around, ready to ask every patron in that place if I had to.
Oh, but fate had better plans for me.
The hostess smiled at us. I was fairly certain staring at another woman’s chest while holding hands with someone else was never a good idea, but a silver glint where a button should have been caught my eye.
“Wait here,” I told my date before heading to the hostess.
“Hi,” she greeted. “You guys want a table or are you heading back to the bar?”
“I need that safety pin.”
Her chin jerked to the side. “What?”
“The one on your shirt, where your button is missing. I need it.”
She laughed uncomfortably. “Um, sorry.” She used her hand to cover the front of her shirt. “I’m kinda using it myself right now.”
I could have stood there all damn night and waxed poetic about When Harry Met Sally and predetermined destiny. But I was already wasting time.
I pulled out every bill I had, quickly counting them. “I’ll give you two hundred and sixty-six dollars for the pin.”
She blinked rapidly. “Are you serious?”
“Completely.”
“I, um…” She swallowed hard. “I’ll get fired for flashing the customers without it.”
I let out a low growl and glanced over my shoulder. Sally was watching me, a humor-filled expression on her face. It only made me want to kiss her that much more.
“Fine.” I immediately started unbuttoning my shirt. “Two hundred and sixty-six dollars and a shirt.”
“Deal.” She laughed, snatching the cash from my hand.
Luckily, I was wearing a white, fitted crew-neck undershirt, but I was not above sitting at the bar shirtless if that was what it would take.
The hostess handed me the pin and then disappeared with my shirt into the back, presumably to change, while I sauntered, smiling like a maniac, back to my Sally.
Bending at the waist, I presented her with the pin. “Madame.”
“I’m not sure we can consider that fate as much as bribery. But you made your point.” She took it from my hand and pulled the two pieces of fabric together to temporarily fix the dress. It wasn’t perfect, me in my undershirt and her being held together by the grace of God and a one-inch pin, but somehow, it was better.
“You gonna tell me your name now?” I prompted, offering her my elbow.
She slid her arm through mine. “Remi. But I kinda like it when you call me Sally.”
The story continues in
The Difference Between Somehow and Someway
From the Embers
Release
Reclaim
The Retrieval Duet
Retrieval
Transfer
Guardian Protection Agency
Singe
Thrive
The Fall Up Series
The Fall Up
The Spiral Down
The Darkest Sunrise Series
The Darkest Sunrise
The Brightest Sunset
Across the Horizon
The Truth Duet
The Truth About Lies
The Truth About Us
The
Regret Duet
Written with Regret
Written with You
The Wrecked and Ruined Series
Changing Course
Stolen Course
Among the Echoes
Broken Course
On the Ropes
Fighting Silence
Fighting Shadows
Fighting Solitude
Co-Written Romantic Comedy
When the Walls Come Down
When the Time is Right
Originally from Savannah, Georgia, USA Today bestselling author Aly Martinez now lives in South Carolina with her four hilarious children.
Never one to take herself too seriously, she enjoys movies that can surprise her with a twist, charcuterie boards, and her mildly neurotic golden retriever. It should be known, however, that she hates pizza and ice cream, almost as much as writing her bio in the third person.
She passes what little free time she has reading anything and everything she can get her hands on, preferably with a glass of wine by her side.
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