Greatest Distraction (Distracted #1) (12 page)

“Why
’s that? What are you going to call me then?”

“Never
mind the why. As for your new name? Bob? Liam? Sebastian? Any of those stick out to you? I mean, they’re all pretty good names. I like Liam the most, I think.”

“Dane.”

“Dane? Who’s that?”

“No. Dane’s my middle name. My frat brothers used to call me by it instead of Brian since there were too many of us. It was apparently a popular name
in the early eighties.”

Brian
Dane Ranucci. Hmmm. Nice name.
I chewed the name over in my head. Dane? I think I could live with Dane. Not too long, not too common. Yes, it would do.

“So
… what brings you to New York,
Dane
?” I ask, liking how his new name rolled off my tongue. It fit.

“Well, like I said, I’ve lived here the past decade. I was only in Atlanta for a business trip.”

“Oh, do you travel often?”

“More than I’d like, but I think I’ll have to start doing it more often if it means I’ll get to meet beautiful, if not a little odd, women along the way,” he told me, smiling. I couldn’t even argue with the ‘odd’ part of his statement, I knew I was little
… different. It was the Ryen in me. Everyone is a little Ryen, right? Don’t answer that; ignorance is bliss.

While I’d been thinking, silence stretched and Dane’s face lost all its humor.
His brow was furrowed, probably thinking over every word he said, and it made me want to push the skin of his forehead. The frown looked so out of place on his handsome face; I didn’t like it.

“Why the
frowny face?” I asked him, clasping my hands together to keep from touching him. The amount of desire I felt to do so was ridiculous, so I pushed the thought of my head. Well, I tried to.
Better safe than sorry,
I decided, moving my hands under the folds of my dress to sit on them. I could always tell him I was cold.

“You got quiet. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I’m supposed to be offended? I’m not. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m … well, odd wasn’t what I would have chosen, but it fits. I’m different. Is that a bad thing?”

“No. Not a bad thing. I like odd, I like different.
Different has something … intriguing about it,” he answered, the wrinkles in his brow smoothing and his lips quirking up.

I hated to admit it, but I was melting. There was no other word for it
. He’d alluded that there was something intriguing about me; well, right back at him. Something about this guy made me want to continue talking to him, keep this moment between us. There was something that made want to
know
him.

“So, what kind of work do you do?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Architecture stuff, pretty boring, really. You?” he asked, immediately shaking his head. “Never mind, stupid question. I know you don’t need to work.”

“I work,” I said, not having to pretend
at being affronted. I knew everyone assumed that I would just be a socialite, either here, or in Georgia, because of my father’s money, but it always bothered me. I’d never be
that
girl. “Actually, I work at a doctor’s office.” I said the words proudly, the same as an Oscar-winning actress would toot about her award. Sure, it wasn’t rocket science, but I loved my job. I loved that I had one that forced me to rely on my own abilities, not something I’d done nothing to deserve. I enjoyed talking with people, despite my not-so-good brain-to-mouth filter, and I found it rewarding. Every promotion I’d ever gotten, every raise, I worked my ass off for, and no one could take that from me.

“I’m sorry, I just assumed,” he said, waving his hand between us as if to wave his words away. “Do you have a crowbar I could use to remove my foot from my mouth?”

I couldn’t help it, I laughed. “Don’t worry about it. It’s an easy mistake, and you’re not the first to make it. And no, I don’t have a crowbar for that particular problem … If you ever find one, please let me know. I, too, often suffer from that particular problem.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who suffers, then,” he chuckled, letting his knee brush against mine. I had no clue when our chairs got to be close enough to do so, but they had, and shockingly enough, I didn’t mind.

Surprised with how good
a time I was having bantering with Dane, I lifted my drink to my lips, only to find the glass was empty. When had I drunk all of it? I didn’t remember doing it, but then, I’d been distracted by other things. Mainly
him
.

Glancing around the room, I also noticed there were less people now than there were
when we arrived. The ones left were sitting down and still talking – laughing, taking selfies like the group in the corner, that kind of thing – some were dancing in the middle of the room. Soft classical music was playing, the sort that would usually bore me, but now I envied them. I wanted to dance to it, feel the sweet notes fill my soul, my heart, sweep me off my feet.

“Would you like to dance?” Dane asked, following my gaze to the dancing couples.

“Yes,” I said, not hesitating.

Standing, he held his hand out to me and I took it, allowing him to lead me to a clear spot. The current song ended just in time, the band starting back up with a melody that sounded familiar, I just couldn’t place it. Dane pulled me close, wrapping his arm around my back to rest at my hip, while still holding my hand. Moving my free hand to grip his shoulder, I allowed him to move, completely intoxicated by his smell alone. My face barely reached his chest, and
, for the first time in a long time, I wished I was a little taller, just so I could rest my head in the crook of his neck. Instead, I settled for placing my ear to where his heart was, letting myself get lost in his embrace.

Dane was a pretty good dancer, doing more than just shifting his weight from foot to foot. He moved us backward and forward, through the others still swaying to the music, even twirl
ing me once for good measure. My insides did a happy sigh. About three-quarters of the way through the song, I finally placed it as “You Look Wonderful Tonight” by Eric Clapton.

“Oh my darling, you were wonderful tonight,” Dane whispered softly into my hair as the final chords rang out of the song. I swooned so hard I almost tipped over in my heels.

I luckily recovered my composure, but even after the song ended, neither of us moved. The people around us clapped as the band announced they were taking a break before a final set, and, still, we didn’t move. Although I desperately wanted to peek up at his face – so I could read what he was thinking – I refrained. If I was being honest, I was afraid of what I would see.

Instead, I let Dane hold me, relishing in the feel of being in his arms. I sighed happily as he dropped my hand and wrapped his now free arm around me, hugging me.
I’ll hand it to the guy, he gave great hug.

“People are staring,”
Dane mused, his lips close to my ear.

“So?”  My brain had fogged and I wasn’t thinking clearly. Who cared? Not me, that’s for sure. I was as content as a cat in his arms, which was strange for me, but I decided to go with it. Something that felt so good couldn’t be wrong.

“I think I saw one of the journalists bust out a camera.” His voice was still soft, though I could hear a hint of irritation and urging. It wasn’t hard to tell he was unhappy about the prospect. “Let’s get out of here,” he continued, pressing his lips to my temple in a gentle kiss. I shivered before stepping back to look at him.

“What?” I asked, shaking my head to clear it. A flash from a nearby camera was more effective and I felt the blood drain from my face. What was I doing? This wasn’t Atlanta; I wasn’t anonymous here. I didn’t even really know this guy, except that he was mega good looking and made me laugh. Now our picture was going to make the tabloids. The ones taken on the way in were paling in comparison to what they would have now. I could
see the headlines now and I dreaded them. The two of us caught canoodling in a public place was just the kind of thing the rumor mill workers loved.

“Oh, shit,” I exclaimed, wanting to cover my face but deciding against it. If they were going to run pictures of us together, I preferred they not be of me hiding, ashamed
. No, instead I plastered the fakest smile I could muster and grabbed Dane’s hand. “I need to get out of here,” I told him, my voice strained but quiet.

“Come,” he commanded, returning my grin and giving my hand a tug. He pulled me back toward the bar and collected my clutch from the man behind it. Good thing he remembered
… I’d completely forgotten about it. Oops.
Wow his bum looks good bending over.
Stop it, Ryen, focus.

“Do you have a shawl or jacket?” Dane asked, interrupting my scattered thoughts.

“No,” I squeaked, immediately embarrassed and hating it. Good for me, though, he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were intense as he looked me over and nodded. So serious. As he clasped my elbow and led me toward the door, his grip gentle but strong, I decided I liked the serious side of Dane too. Too? Crap, so maybe I just like Dane. Orrrr… maybe I was just happy to be in the company of a guy who wasn’t talking about video games. Yes, that’s it. No, it’s not, but that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

I couldn’t
silence the voice in my head that was cheering happily. All my warnings were going ignored on the possibility of a new man in my life.
ALL THIS CELEBRATION IS PREMATURE,
I thought in all caps – that’s the only way you can scream internally, right?

Chapter Nine
 

Dane maneuvered us easily through the room and out the front door. We both smiled and nodded to the few remaining press before making our way to the valet booth. Luckily for us, none of the cameras followed us.

“John,” Dane acknowledged the man, obviously knowing him.

“Brian, Miss,” he returned the greeting, smiling kindly at me. I nodded in kind, internally panicking. I hadn’t texted my driver to let him know I was leaving early. He wasn’t supposed to be back until two AM – it was only twelve-thirty. Without any notice, and the event still going on, I was effectively stranded.

“If you’ll wait here, I’ll be right back,” the valet named ‘John’ said before snatching a ring off the board behind him and disappearing into the night.

“Dane … my car and driver aren’t here yet.”

I don’t know why I said it – pointing out the obvious. He could see there were no cars in line waiting other than a r
ow of taxis, but I couldn’t help it.

The man next to me, still holding my elbow, remained silent. Granted, I hadn’t known him long, only a few hours now, but I could tell something was bothering him. Being the natural worrier I was, I started replaying the entire night’s events in my head, mentally searching for the cause of the change in him. He’d been fine when we’d talked, and the dancing. The photographs
: that’s when he went serious. Maybe he wasn’t happy to be caught on film with me. What if he was married or something? Did he have kids? I’d never asked. My heart dropped as I drew the worst possible conclusions.

“I’m sorry,” I told him, trying not to sound belligerent, and failing. When I’m frustrated or hurt, I tend to handle anger better than any other emotion.

“For what?” He truly seemed perplexed as he ran a hand over his face. I followed the motion, actively searching for a ring or a tan line I may have missed. Nope, nothing.

“For getting caught on film with me?
For the dancing? For us meeting? Take your pick,” I snapped, stepping out of his reach. Sure, I was uncomfortable with the thought that tabloids would be pimping out our pictures, but was I really
that
bad? I know I’m a pain in the ass, but I looked somewhat decent. Especially tonight in
the
dress. A troll couldn’t wear something as pretty, right?

“
Ryen, what are you talking about?” he asked, reaching for me again. When I only stepped out of his grasp once more, he sighed. “This is crazy. Let me clear things up for you. A - I’m not upset that our picture was taken. There were cameras when I ran into you at the entry… Remember? You’re young, beautiful, smart, and we’re both single. If I was worried, I wouldn’t have spent the evening at a high-profile charity event, talking with you. It was
you
who suggested leaving.”