Not Another Valentine Story

LAUREN

“What I’d prefer,” Lauren said in a calm and clear voice, “is anything other than a man like you who assumes you are this world’s gift to women. You claim to know what we all want in bed just from experience.”

She raised an index finger at him. “Newsflash, Hot Stuff. We’re all different, and we’re all looking for something different.”

His brow rose, and his smirk grew wider. He brought his arm down from the back of the seat and leaned forward, rubbing his hand down his chin before meeting her eyes.

The delicious look he gave her almost sent her to her knees, but she forced the lust-filled thoughts from her mind, refusing to be that weak. So what if he ticked every box she had ever created for her Prince Charming physically? Emotionally, he was a gnome.

She met his eyes again, and when he didn’t respond, she huffed, standing straight to walk away.

His hand, which was bigger than it looked when it wasn’t touching her, wrapped around her wrist. She sucked in a breath and pulled her arm away. He released her, but her skin still tingled from the brand of his touch. She swallowed hard, pretending it didn’t burn her very soul.

“And what are you looking for?” he asked, his voice so deep and husky that it belonged in X-rated videos or at least some sexy audiobooks.

She’d listen to that all day.

Tearing her eyes away from his kissable lips, she met his gaze, but the way he was staring at her made her rethink her response. She wanted to tell him that what she was looking for was none of his business, but all the hostility on his face from before was gone.

His question was genuine.

Since she was not about to tell him that she was a workaholic with no social life and was looking for someone to be okay with that enough to share a life with her, she decided that leaving before things went any farther was the best response.

“The exit,” Lauren said. “Goodnight.” She turned to leave, looking over her shoulder with a smirk. “Sir,” she added then wove through the tables toward the door.

His eyes bored holes into her back the entire way out.

She stepped out of the restaurant taking steadying breaths of fresh air. The wind bit into her, but it was a welcome reprieve from the heat suffocating her. Her body still prickled with his presence, but she ignored it, pushing him out of her mind.

The nightlife in New York buzzed around her as she collected herself. The lights of hundreds of skyscrapers made the darkness feel alive. Lauren concentrated on a single light above the valet booth before she trusted her legs to walk toward it.

Handing her parking ticket to the valet, she waited with her arms crossed against the wind. She looked down, avoiding looking at all the happy couples who were walking arm-in-arm in every direction, rubbing it in that she wasn’t that lucky.

The confrontation with Sir had distracted her from the shitty date, but the crisp air brought clarity to her mind. Her whole night had been shit.

She had been stood up, on Valentine’s Day, had run into the most attractive guy she’d ever seen in her life—who turned out to be an asshole—and had proceeded to act like a teenager around him, first drooling, then stomping her feet, then leaving with a taunt.

Shame and self-pity heated her cheeks, and she took deep breaths while reminding herself it could have been worse.

In fact, it had been worse. As far as Valentine’s disaster dates went, being stood up was a breeze compared to what her curse had given her before.

The date when the guy tried to go out with both Lauren and his wife but mixed up the times had been worse. The date when the guy dumped her over appetizers had been worse. And the date when the guy fucked the waitress in the bathroom, not in a stall, had been worse.

Being stood up was actually a relief because then her night could end without getting even more shitty.

The valet finally brought around her car, and she climbed in just as her phone buzzed. Lauren did her seat belt up and took a deep breath, readying herself for whatever excuse her MIA date had prepared.

Lauren’s fingernails pressed into her phone cover as she squeezed it. It was yet another Valentine’s Day when she was single and pissed off. She started her car and revved it, her grip tightening on the steering wheel.

She blocked Trent’s number and chucked her phone to the passenger side. Swerving into the street, she drove as fast as she could to the comforts of her home, her bed, and her trusty BOB.

At least he never let her down, unlike all the men in her life, beginning with her dad. Maybe she should just stop trying, stop dating, and stop believing all the Hallmark movies that say true love is real and attainable.

Instead of the 90 percent she gave of herself to her career, maybe she should start giving 100 percent.

But Sir’s face flashed into mind. He’d made her feel things that she thought Hollywood invented. He was the cause of the hope for a happy ending that fluttered in her stomach.

And what are you looking for? His deep voice reverberated in her mind, shattering the answers she would have given him until all that remained was one.

Lauren had been looking for him.