Home Is Where the Heat Is (10 page)

Sandwiched between the two men, Claire glanced at the door, deflating like an old balloon. “Only when my printer won’t cooperate.”

That printer would require his attention a lot more often, thanks to his little understanding with her boss. “Or you download a virus.” He hadn’t figured out who to thank for that yet.

“
That
was not my fault.” She waved off the blame.

JT ordered a drink and a Reuben sandwich, then nodded toward Kurt. “Can I get you a beer?”

“No, thanks. I’m taking a late lunch break. Gotta get back to the office and finish cleaning up that virus.”

But he did order a grilled cheese sandwich and fries.

Claire swept her rich brown hair behind her ear and winced. “Sorry for the extra work.”

Kurt’s gaze fixed on the chocolate silk spilling through her slim fingers.
Wow.
She’d make a perfect rebel princess.
His heart melted at the guilt on her face. “No problem.” He’d spent the time helping her. “I didn’t expect to see you here today. I thought you were in court with Mr. Sheridan.”

“The defendant changed his plea to guilty. Case closed.” She clapped her palms together as if closing a file. Then her eyes lit up. “I’m free.”

JT bumped his shoulder against hers. “Yes, you are.”

The smile she gave him made Kurt’s heart falter. He’d thought she wanted to get away from JT, but now it seemed the two shared a secret connection. “Another mark in his win column, huh?”

A waitress appeared and dropped a plate loaded with dripping grilled cheese and steaming fries in front of Kurt.

“Oh yes. Alex had no doubt about this one.”

JT picked up his sandwich. “We didn’t either. Ow!” He cringed and rubbed his leg, sputtering at Claire.

Odd.
Kurt bit into his grilled cheese, catching the gooey goodness with his fingers while watching the agitated paralegal over the top of his glasses. Something had driven a bug up her butt, and he hoped his presence wasn’t causing her discomfort. “Gave you the afternoon off again?”

“Yep. That’s my reward when he wins.”

“What are you going to do with your freedom?”
Why does that word make JT grin like a scruffy-looking nerf-herder?

The rebel princess between them snarled at JT. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“I have.” The scoundrel caressed her elbow.

Claire snatched her arm away and stood up. “Excuse me, gentleman, I need to go to the ladies’ room.”

Kurt scooted his chair back to let her out.

JT stood—a little too close. “Come back.”

“I might.” She shot him a pointed glare and walked down the hall while JT gawked at her skirt swaying beneath her firm backside. Kurt would’ve done the same thing, but much more discreetly.

JT swung around and grinned. “So Kurt, you got a girlfriend?”

“Uh….” He glanced in the direction Claire had taken. “Not right now. I….” Could he tell a complete stranger about his secret craving? Especially one who obviously wanted her too? But he didn’t need to mention her name, and maybe sharing that longing would ease the burden. He had to let it out somehow. God only knew he’d never tell Claire. “I have a thing for this girl… but she doesn’t know.”

The curious stranger chugged his beer. “Why not?”

Kurt shook his head. “She’s way out of my league.”
Who am I kidding?
They didn’t even play the same sport.

“Who cares?”

“I do. If I told her, and she didn’t… if she doesn’t feel the same….” He choked on the lump in his throat.

JT set his empty glass on the table. “But what if she does? She might be waiting and hoping for you to make the first move. You’ll never know if you don’t take that chance.”

Take a chance? Never.
Kurt lived in a world built on logic and reason. He dabbled with make-believe when he needed an escape from his cause-and-effect life, but he always counted on reality to keep him grounded. “It’s safer to hold on to my fantasy.”

JT grinned. “Fantasies don’t keep you warm at night.”

Kurt’s face flushed hot, and he coughed into his Coke.

“Okay, some do, but that gets old real quick.” He glanced at his watch as if to demonstrate.

Kurt had stretched his imagination to its limit. How much longer could he wish for her? “Would
you
tell her?”

“Absolutely.”

No hesitation. How could he jump in without considering all the possible outcomes? “Even if you knew there’s a good probability she’d say no and never speak to you again?” Kurt persisted.

JT shifted in his chair. His feet shuffled under the table, and he gritted his teeth. “Yes. Then you can stop wasting your time hoping for a relationship she never wanted, and move on with your life.”

Ouch.
“No.” Kurt shook his head. “I’d rather hold on to my blissful ignorance.”

“Wow. This girl’s got you by the imaginary balls. Is she worth it?”

The woman who held the chain around his heart reappeared, smiling as she approached. Kurt’s conviction held firm.
Worth every agonizing moment.

“You tell me. She’s right there.”

***

JT turned and followed Kurt’s dopey gaze.
Whoa shit, Claire?
He swallowed a laugh as Kurt adjusted his glasses and then his pants. The computer geek presented little competition in the area of physical appearance, but his over-the-top devotion could put him in the running if Claire knew about it.

She strolled across the room, taking her time getting back to their table. Her hands rested on the small of her back, casually clasped together while she gazed at the posters and memorabilia littering the walls. Still putting on a show, unwilling to risk revealing her association with a recently dismissed juror. But her fingers twitched and her breast heaved as she moved closer.

“Yeah, she’s worth it.” JT turned back to his mesmerized companion. “Don’t tell her just yet. Let’s have some fun with this.”

“What do you mean?” He tore his gaze away from the paralegal and frowned at JT.

“A friendly challenge.” He nodded toward an empty pool table in the corner. “If I win, I ask her out. If you win, you ask her out. Simple.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t play?”

“I can play.” He turned and studied the table. “Well—I’ll figure it out. But I can’t tell Claire what I’ve been thinking about her all this time.”

“You don’t have to. Just ask her out for coffee or even lunch. A small risk, but it could have a big payoff.”

Kurt chewed his lips while Claire reclaimed her seat between them. “What have you two been talking about?”

“Pool.” JT put his plan into action before Kurt could change the game. He stood and clapped the bumbling nerd on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Then he winked at Claire. “Wanna watch?”

“You’re not going to let me play?”

“Mmm….” The three of them playing together would make things interesting. “Next time. This game is for the men.” He grunted like a caveman and Claire laughed.

Kurt stuffed the last of his grilled cheese into his mouth and washed it with down with a Coke. “How do we decide who goes first?” He scrambled after Claire.

JT grabbed a couple of cue sticks off the rack on the wall and handed one to his opponent. “We’ll flip for it.” He stuffed his hand in his pocket and pulled out a quarter. “Heads, I win. Tails, you lose.”

Kurt nodded, then blinked. “Wait a minute.”

JT laughed. “As smart as you look.” He tossed the coin in the air. “Call it.”

***

“Heads,” Kurt blurted out as the coin bounced on the green felt. It flipped on one side and wobbled before settling. “Tails, damn it.” But he breathed a silent thanks. Now he could watch JT and learn the game.

JT grinned and racked up the balls. “One game. Winner takes all.” He drew back his stick and drove the white ball into the triangle, sending balls rolling in all directions. Two of them fell into separate pockets. “I got stripes.” He lined up his next shot.

Kurt studied his every move. “So if you hit a ball in the pocket, you get to go again?”

“Yeah.” JT scratched his head. “I thought you knew how to play.”

“I’ve seen it done.”

“Aw, man. I can’t take advantage of a pool virgin.” He took the shot and missed.

“Don’t worry.” Kurt smiled and eyed the solid-colored balls, measuring angles and calculating distances. He placed his stick behind the white ball and tapped it with perfectly estimated force, sending the red three rolling directly into a corner pocket. “You won’t.”

Claire whistled from her seat in the corner. “Nice shot.”

“Are you hustling me?” JT ground his stick into a blue cube.

“What’s hustling?” He adjusted his glasses and surveyed the table. The only shot he might make required bouncing the five ball off the side and into the four, which should drop the purple ball into the side pocket. So he did.

JT flopped back against the wall next to their potential prize. “I am so screwed.”

Claire laughed. “You’ve been holding out on us, Kurt. All those times I asked if you could play, you said no.”

“I had more fun watching.” Watching her bend over the table, her long, perfect fingers braced on the felt while she slid the smooth stick between them.
Stop! Now.

“So you’re a natural?” JT shook his head.

Kurt shrugged. “It’s simple geometry and physics.” The white ball rolled into an ideal position to make the next shot. “And a little bit of luck.”

“That’s my line,” JT grumbled.

“Do I keep going?” Kurt noticed his opponent pinching the bridge of his nose as if in pain.

“Uh-huh.”

“The eight ball goes in last.” Claire advised him as JT elbowed her.

“Thank you.” The five and the six disappeared, followed by the seven and the one. Only the two, the black eight, and a bunch of striped balls remained. “Do you get to play again?” Kurt knew the answer, but needling the formerly cocky bastard felt damn good.

“Not until you miss.”

“I see.” And then he sank the two in the side pocket.

JT smiled and approached the table. “The rule is: you gotta hit the eight ball in the same pocket you made your last shot in.”

Is he making this up?
Kurt located the black ball, sitting deserted and still in the opposite corner. He’d have to bank it off not one, but three edges to get it in the same side he’d hit the two into. Mathematically possible, but practically challenging. He leaned close to JT and whispered. “How do we explain our bet to Claire?”

JT raised an eyebrow. “This is just between you and me. Girls don’t like it when you treat them like a prize.”

Kurt nodded. “Eight ball in the side pocket.” He’d heard Claire make a similar declaration at various after-hours gatherings in this same pub. Spouting it himself shot his confidence level through the stratosphere. His opponent stepped back as Kurt circled the table, calculating the best possible angle and force needed to accomplish his task. He bent over the far end, pulled back his stick and closed his eyes. He smacked the ball dead-center and listened to the soft thumps as it bounced around the table—one, two, three—porcelain cracked on porcelain.

Kurt opened one eye and watched the white ball stop, transferring its energy to the black ball and sending it rolling toward the side pocket, teetering on the edge and….

It dropped in.

“Woohoo!” Claire jumped up and clapped her hands.

JT bowed his head and groaned. Then he extended his hand. “Well done.” His eyes danced as he cast a sidelong glance toward the cheering paralegal.

Does she know about the bet? Is she thrilled that I won?
But no one had spoken during the game, mesmerized by his performance.

Just ask her out,
JT had said. She would never find out how Kurt craved her. But a guy didn’t ask a girl out—even for coffee—unless he liked her, so she’d know. And then he’d discover once and for all if she wanted him or not. He didn’t need to know that. All the bravado he’d built up during the game trickled away like R2-D2 leaking oil.

“Aren’t you going to collect your winnings?” JT took the sticks and placed them on the rack.

Claire smiled and patted Kurt’s shoulder. “You deserve it.”

“Uh….” The warmth of her touch ignited his imagination but failed to spark his courage. “I gotta get back to work.” He sought out the waitress to pay for his lunch.

“Wait.” JT caught up with him. “You’re not going to ask her? You won fair and square… I think.”

Kurt’s glasses slid down his nose as he shook his head. “I beat you. That’s enough for now.”

JT smirked. “All right then. But I wouldn’t blow this opportunity.”

He’d have others, wouldn’t he? He glanced over JT’s shoulder as Claire approached, smiling, reaching, but her hand landed on the other guy’s back—not his. He met JT’s eyes. “I’m not you.” He paid his tab and headed for the door. “Bye, Claire. See you tomorrow.”

She fluttered her free hand at him. “Good luck with the virus.”

He shoved the jingling door open and stepped out into the cold sunlight.
Just ask her! Why is that so hard?
A sudden chilly gust slammed into his chest, pushing him back toward the bar. But Kurt forged ahead, braving the cold like Han and Luke on Hoth. They’d faced unknown dangers and triumphed in spite of the odds.

Oh, who was he kidding?
I’m no hero.
He’d won the chance to charm his princess, but he’d bailed out before his ship crashed and burned. Could he mount a rebellion? And then an even bigger question froze his heart: did she want to be rescued?

Chapter 7

Claire let out a huge sigh and slumped down on the table, barely landing her butt in the chair next to JT. They’d survived the encounter with Kurt… odd as it was… but he rarely got out of the office, so he had no idea JT had been a juror. She couldn’t risk running into someone who’d seen them at the courthouse. Just to walk out into the street with him in broad daylight presented a problem. Alex’s office faced the pub. If he happened to look out the window at just the right time…. No, better to stay here until after dark, then they could sneak out together. Another sigh escaped her.