From WOKE, my Sleeping Beauty redux….Aurora is thinking of things she…..misses.
He reached into his pocket and handed me a business card.
Kincade Enright, MBA, PFS
“So, you’re a stock broker?”
“No, I’m in personal finance. I manage investments and portfolios for my clients, one of whom wants an original Ainsworth. So,” he lifted his hands in the air.
“Well, I hope you can make your client happy tonight, Mr. Enright, and in doing so, you’ll both be benefiting the women’s center, so I’ll thank you in advance.”
“You’re welcome, and it’s Cade.” He stuck out his hand to shake mine. “And you are?”
My gaze took a quick dip from his grinning face to his outstretched hand. Manners had been ingrained in me from birth, both by my mother and Maeve, so I slid mine into his, ready to give it a perfunctory shake. The moment his fingers wrapped around mine, though, a bolt of lightning flashed between us and paralyzed me to my spot.
His eyes flickered, telling me he’d noticed it, too.
Warmth steeped through me and flowed all the way to my core, heating it like a nuclear coil. His skin was soft and smooth, like he wasn’t used to manual labor, but by no means was he weak. Strength and power surged from his grip. Instinct told me this was a man for whom character, depth, and a strong sense of self were integral parts of his makeup.
All intriguing qualities in a man.
Intriguing, and wildly alluring.
While he stood in front of me, still holding me hand, I realized I was supposed to answer him.
I blinked a few times to try and refocus myself just as I had at the Till, before finding my voice.
“A.J. Callahan. Sorry, I’ve got a lot going on up here”—I pointed to my head with my free hand—“and I’m thinking of fifty things at the same time.” Lame, I know, but I was really caught off guard by his touch.
He pumped my hand once, then let it go. For a hot second I fantasized about pulling it back and maybe even wrapping it around my waist.
“Well, I’ll leave you to them, then. It was nice seeing you. Again.” He grinned.
“Enjoy the auction and the dinner. Bid often and bid high,” I added. “It’s for a worthy cause.”
With a salute, he made his way into the crowded ballroom.
Well, that had been…unexpected. Serendipity or not, both times I’d been in his presence I’d been rendered a bit off kilter.
Before the coma I hadn’t been a nun. Far from it.
I’d dated—and slept with—my fair share of handsome, rich, socially acceptable guys. None of them had ever made me want to spend forever tied to them. They were merely a way to have fun and explore my own sexuality. I couldn’t remember one guy, though, whose simple touch against my skin had caused such a powerful reaction in me.
The five years since I’d woken I’d been concentrating on getting my life back to some normalcy. That meant focusing on me and me alone. While the number of my former friends had dwindled considerably, the new ones I’d made through my charity work and other endeavors I kept at a relative distance. Very few of them knew I was the former Rory Brightwell, party-girl and society scion. I used my mother’s maiden name now as my own and my initials to introduce myself.
I liked A.J. Callahan. A lot. And I didn’t miss the old me too much.
But some things I did miss, like…sex. I hadn’t met anyone recently who gave me a tingle in that department.
I glanced down at his card then tucked it into my clutch.
Intrigued? I hope so, hee hee.
Get your copy here: WOKE
Until next time, peeps ~ Peg