Crimson Groves Read Online Free

calories and fat I just ordered.” A slight jiggle moved through his waistline as he leaned forward to sip the last drop of wine from his glass. Tiny beads of sweat started to form on my forehead. I just couldn’t move fast enough. Mel’s lips still moved; he was saying something, but I couldn’t hear him anymore. I gave him a polite smile, fake and forced, and anxiously looked back at Bronx. He was watching me and didn’t even try to hide it by turning away. Where did this gorgeous man come from and why was he staring at me?
    I raced over to the touch-screen computer, centered between the two plasma TVs, and typed in the food order. Then I quickly opened another bottle of house cabernet. I was cautiously aware of Bronx’s presence while I poured the wine in a glass, trying to remember to smile at Mel as I handed it to him. The invisible magnetic force between Bronx and I was getting stronger, more urgent. I needed to go to him, couldn’t resist being closer. I turned and walked that way.
    “Hey, Abby,” Dennis called out, halting me. “Can I get a Jack instead of a beer this time?” I headed back reluctantly. Dennis was about Mel’s age but thinner, a lot thinner, almost skeletal, with a sunken face, dark circles under his eyes, a wrinkly bald head, and long boney fingers nudging his empty mug toward me.
    “No problem, Dennis,” I said with a counterfeit smile, trying my best to maintain a polite composure with my loyal regulars. Neither of them had seemed so demanding earlier, but then again that was before the perfectly gorgeous guy arrived. Were they jealous? Ooh gross! I rolled my eyes and got busy making Dennis’ drink.
    I moved so fast, I was lucky I didn’t spill or break anything. With that fake smile plastered across my face, I set the drink in front of Dennis and turned around, heading straight to my gorgeous new customer. Perhaps Dennis thanked me but I didn’t hear it. My mind was tangled up on Bronx like gum stuck in your hair. Why did I want to get back to him so badly? Desire and lust rushed my heart like a stampede. My mind wrestled in trying to make sense of these over-the-top feelings. Thoughts on how I didn’t know him zigzagged between wanting to know him and needing to feel close to him.
    Each step closer to Bronx became more comfortable. I looked down at my feet briefly, feeling a little self-conscious, and then back up at him. Our eyes locked together as if they were padlocked. And that’s when the room began spinning. I felt dizzy and disoriented. I grabbed the countertop, steadying myself, unable to look away, inching closer and closer to him. Then I was there, no more than a foot away from him. His eyes were deep dark pools full of mystery. I couldn’t tell if they were blue, black, or a combination of the two. All I knew was that they were inviting me into him. His face was flawless and smooth. I imagined myself touching it, caressing it. Running my hand over his cheek down to his lips, and then gently moving my fingertips across them. What was I thinking? This was crazy. I was completely caught up in him.
    He broke the silence. “Is it possible for us to talk a little? I would love to get to know you better.” He stretched each word out, making it last.
    My cheeks flushed warm. I was definitely blushing. None of this made any sense whatsoever! Why was I so mesmerized by him? What the hell was I feeling? For the last six months I’d successfully shielded myself from anyone who hit on me. How did this strange but beautiful man just barge right through my barrier?
    “That sounds great. What would you like to know?” That was my voice! I said that! I tilted my head slightly; my hair fell sideways, sweeping over the side of my face. Some might have mistaken it for a flirtatious gesture, which it was. What was I doing? I just did that without even thinking. My body was in some strange, trance-like autopilot. I’d never been like this before, swept off my feet by a wannabe Mr.