Page 22

Story: With this Ring

Even though the calendar said it was the end of summer, a chill blanketed the night.
Needing something to occupy her hands, she crossed to the bar and scanned the menu. All the drink names were creative, making her smile, helping her to relax.
“What’ll it be?” the woman behind the bar asked.
Sasha wrinkled her nose. “I can’t decide. Something…” Her gaze landed on the Safe Word. It had blood orange and other juices, along with coconut cream. “Sounds a little like a piña colada.” She pointed to the description. “But different.”Better?
“With a spicy kick.”
Spicy.That certainly fit the vibe of the evening.
The glass was supposedly rimmed with a blend of cayenne pepper and sugar.
“Sure you can handle it?”
Feeling like the question was a bit of a challenge, she grinned. She was already here, out of her comfort zone. Why not go all the way? “Bring it on.”
When the bartender was done mixing the beverage, she added an orange slice and a tiny red pepper as a garnish.
“If it’s too much, you can always use your safe word, and I’ll make you something else.”
Wrinkling her nose, a little nervous, she licked the rim. A shiver went through her.
The bartender grinned.
I can do this.
Her first taste was a wicked contradiction—silky, yet with an afterbite, making a slow heat curl at the back of her throat.
“What do you think?”
“Damn.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“Amazing.” Her lips tingled. The only thing that could make it better was a couple of shots of rum…served by a man with adangerous smile and a voice that whispered promises that had haunted her for years.
“Youarebrave.” The woman moved off to help others.
After another sip to fortify herself, Sasha glanced around. Thankfully she recognized a couple of women she’d met earlier in Winter Park, and she walked across the patio to join them.
“Isn’t he dreamy?” one of them asked, referring to Zeph Rockwell.
He was talented, for sure. And if she were attracted to blond-headed men with crooning voices and gyrating hips, she’d be gaga like everyone else.
Unfortunately for her, she only had eyes for a Mediterranean god with a shaved head and dark, haunted eyes.
A gust of wind hit her.
“Brr!” one of the women said.
The group of them hurried toward one of the firepits to warm up.
When the conversation turned toward which Dom they each wanted to play with, she suddenly became the fifth wheel.
After listening for a few minutes, she gave a polite smile and excused herself. Near the house, she glanced around one more time. The man she wanted to see was definitely not around.
Why hadn’t he made a move? Gregorio had to know she was here.