Authors: Marie Harte
“Yech. Baseball? I hate baseball.”
“I knew you weren’t perfect, but finding out like this, so early on our date, it’s tough.” He sighed.
She tried not to laugh but had to. “You’re such a goof.”
“A hot goof.”
“Yeah. One who visits a lot of strip clubs, so I hear.”
He flushed. “My dad’s place. I help out a lot.”
“I bet you do.”
The waiter brought their dinners and cleared off their empty plates.
“We’ll get back to that comment later,” he warned. “We have more important things to talk about.”
“Like?”
“The rules. When you’re out with me, you have to share.” He glanced at her plate.
“What?” She tugged her amazing-looking crab cakes toward her. “No way. This dinner is mine.”
“Sweetheart, you—”
“‘Sweetheart’? What, this early in the date you’re already forgetting my name?”
He glared at her. “You know, for a pretty woman everyone thinks is just a
sweetheart
, you’re really a pain in the ass.”
She beamed. “Why thank you, kind sir.”
He chuckled. “What I was
going to
say was that the rules are pretty clear. We go to dinner. I pay. I get a taste of yours, and you get a taste of mine.”
The way he said that was plain sinful.
“A taste of yours, eh? What if it’s undercooked? Or just not to my taste?”
He held out a fork of his fish for her, his eyes intent. “Try it. You’ll like it.” She leaned forward and opened her mouth. His eyes darkened. “Wider. Don’t want to miss a drop.”
She closed her lips over the fork, disturbed to find her nipples rock hard. Damn, the man could make eating sexy. She seriously had to watch herself with him.
“Well? Is it ‘to your taste’?” he mimicked.
She chewed and swallowed, then conceded, “It’s amazing.”
“Ha.” He grinned at her. “Now my turn.”
She cut him a piece and held it out to him. He had the nerve to watch
her
, not the food, while he opened his mouth. Then he took it in the sexiest way possible, giving her all kinds of improper thoughts. She wanted to fan herself but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
“Don’t make love to it, Johnny. Just eat it.”
He blinked at her, swallowed, then started laughing. He laughed so hard he cried.
“What’s so funny?”
“Baby, if that’s what you think, you have a lot to learn.”
She didn’t get it until they’d left the restaurant and drove toward the theater.
Making love. Eating. Making love… Oh.
“You are so immature.”
“Just eat it,” he mimicked and cracked up again. “Sorry. I am immature. But, Lara, don’t worry. I have every intention of showing you how I ‘eat my dinner’ later, in private.” He gave her a sly smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll catch you up in no time.”
“Quit with all your wicked innuendo. I’m a simple girl.”
“Simple my ass,” he said as they found the theater.
When they left the car, the wind picked up, and she wished she’d brought a heavier jacket. So unnerved by his presence, she’d grabbed the first thing she’d found in the closet.
“Cold? Here. Let me help.” Johnny hugged her to him, and the subtle scent of his cologne, which had driven her crazy all evening, hit her hard. “Stay close to me, and I’ll keep you warm.”
She felt his smile against her hair. “Is that a line?”
“Why? Is it working?”
“Not yet. But if it gets any colder out here, it might.”
He laughed as they walked into the movie theater. After she purchased the horror film tickets, he grabbed her by the hand and squeezed. “Thank God. I thought for a minute there
Alfred’s Three Loves
might have swayed you.”
“No way. I’m not into period pieces.” She made a face. “But I can do horror.” She just had to say it. “I’m on a date with you, aren’t I?”
“Ha-ha. Very funny.” He swatted her on the ass, and she warmed all over. “After you.” He motioned for her to precede him.
To her surprise, she enjoyed the frightfest. She jumped at all the right parts and laughed when he did the same. Unlike most guys, he didn’t try to act macho. He had fun, made her laugh, and turned her on without trying. He was just so…Johnny.
They exited the theater amid chatter about the excessive gore in the movie. “Wasn’t that
great
?” she gushed.
“A little over the top when the doll started bleeding from every orifice, don’t you think?”
“I thought that made her seem more real.”
He snorted. “Yeah. Dolls that bleed black and screech about demonic possession are so lifelike.”
“Exactly.”
He dragged her with him out of the way of a throng of theatergoers exiting from another movie. The multiplex had been packed, and she felt the crush as they moved toward the building’s exit.
“Thanks,” she said, breathless, as the wall of the corridor braced her back.
Then his mouth was on hers, a whisper of a kiss full of heat and desire. It was gone before she could blink, and she could only stare up at him, wanting more.
“I’ve been dying to do that all evening. And, well, a guy can only take so much temptation.”
“Temptation?” she echoed weakly.
“Yeah.” He sighed. “You loved a demonic doll. I mean, you hate baseball, but you loved Suzy Oozy—she of the hellish diapers and acidic eats-through-anything vomit.”
She nodded, still dazed. “I know, right? Great stuff.”
He chuckled and moved closer, away from the crowd pushing through the complex.
“Problem is I really liked Suzy. Now I’m going to have to hide my niece’s baby-cries-a-lot doll the next time I see it. Talk about super creepy.” She rubbed her lips, staring at his, still reeling from that kiss.
“You say
creepy
, then you touch your mouth where I kissed you. I’m sensing a correlation.”
“Big word for a self-proclaimed knuckle-dragger—wasn’t that what you called your friends at Ray’s the other night?”
“Well, them, sure. But I’m more advanced than that. I can even spell
correlation
.” He paused. “With a dictionary.”
She was enthralled with him, despite being on her guard not to be. “How are you so much fun? Is this part of your shtick?”
He frowned. “My what?”
“Your shtick. Your routine. Do you get your dates laughing so hard that they don’t notice when you have them half-undressed?”
“Now, Lara. They
always
know when they’re getting naked with me. How could you think otherwise? I have standards, you know.”
He looked wounded, and she laughed and let him pull her along with the crowd. He kept his hand around hers, even when they left the theater, and she didn’t pull away.
“So, batting cages?” he asked hopefully as they found the car.
She groaned. “No thank you.”
He shrugged. “Your loss.”
“Thanks, Kareem.”
He looked pained. “That’s basketball.”
“Whatever. I’m not a fan of either sport.”
“Obviously.
Kareem?
”
She laughed at him. “I was kidding. Kareem Abdul-Jabbar played for the Lakers from ’79 to ’85. Do you know what pro team he started with?”
“Do you?” He opened the car door for her, then circled to the driver’s side.
“The Milwaukee Bucks in 1969.”
“Okay, I’m impressed. That almost makes up for not liking baseball.”
She got into the car with him and confessed, “I only know that because my dad used to force me to watch old games with him when I was a kid. The basketball I could tolerate, but show me a Mets game, and I want to throw up. I think my head might spin too, worse than Suzy’s did for sure.” She sat with him in the quiet of the moment, wondering if she’d gone too far. Vomit wasn’t exactly sexy. “Um, not that sitting in absolute silence with you isn’t awkward or anything—”
“Glad to hear it.”
“—but if we’re not going to do the baseball thing, what did you have in mind? And don’t even think of suggesting we go back to your place.” She liked that neither of them had yet mentioned just ending the date. It was only a little after ten on a Friday night. Early by anyone’s standards.
“Well then. Take the wind out of my sails, why don’t you?” He blew out a breath. “Fine. We’ll go to yours.”
“My place?”
He started the car and drove out of the lot. “Exactly. Great minds think alike.”
Her heart pounded. “Exactly what
are
we thinking?”
“That we’ll hang out at your place, where you’ll practice more nursing on me. You can examine my pitiful bruised cheek. You know, the one I got rescuing a damsel in distress?”
“Going to milk that for all it’s worth, aren’t you?”
“Hell yeah. I figure if I remind you enough, you might take pity on me and let me kiss you again.”
Chapter 7
He hadn’t meant to put it out there, but now that he had, Johnny wanted another shot at holding her close.
“We— I— Well.”
She hadn’t flat-out said no. A victory, of sorts. He had to keep things light, to not scare her off. Because damn, he had to have her. That kiss had only whetted his already enormous appetite when it came to Lara Valley.
“So you and your dad watched basketball together?” Discussing her father should put her at ease, and he wanted to know everything he could about her anyway.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw her regard him with caution. Smart girl. “Yeah. We’re close. The whole family is. Reason why I talked to Ron—the guy you beat up—even though I know he’s an asshole. I was doing my sister a favor.”
“I remember who Ron is,” he said drily. “So how was getting attacked by him doing her a favor?”
“Ron said he’d give Kristin more in the divorce settlement if I mediated with him. He and my sister cut out the lawyers.”
“A smart move, except for the part where he thought he was getting more than mediation.”
“Yeah. Gross.”
“So why didn’t he meet with her instead of you? Do you have some kind of law background?”
“No. Ron’s a sleaze. He couldn’t get into my pants when he was married to my sister, so I guess he thought he’d try again now that they’re almost divorced.”
“What a dick.”
“You said it.”
He shook his head. “Your sister is fucked. No way is that guy going to play fair.”
“I know.” She sighed.
Great job. Why not be more of a downer? And watch the language!
Maybe he should institute his own swear jar. “I should thank Ron,” Johnny said to lighten the mood. “He gave me a workout.”
“I can’t believe you let him land a punch. I’m a little disappointed.”
He glanced at her in surprise before turning back to the road. “Really?”
“No. I just wanted to screw with you.”
“Honey, all you had to do was ask.” He felt her staring at him, and predictably, he grew hard. Good thing he’d worn dark jeans to hide the fact.
“It’s like everything I say has some sort of sexual innuendo with you.”
“Yep.”
She snorted. “Everything?”
“Uh-huh. Every
thing
—euphemism for penis. Next.”
“Never mind. I don’t think I want to know.”
“You really don’t.” She sure the hell didn’t want to know how badly he wanted to sink inside her, to feel her all around him.
They drove for a bit in silence before Lara spoke. “So I was thinking…”
“The four most dreaded words a woman can say.”
“You’re horrible.”
He slanted a wink her way. “I try.”
She laughed. “Stop it. Anyway, since I’m not into baseball, how about playing some cards? I’m pretty good at War.”
He started. “I haven’t played War since I was a kid.”
“I have two nieces. When they’re not warring on each other, they’re warring with cards. I hate to admit it, but it’s fun.”
An excuse to hang with Lara. “Well, I guess…”
“Or we could call it a night and—”
“Fine. Stop begging. I’ll play cards with you.”
“I wasn’t begging.” She frowned. “But you—”
“We’re here.” He parked in a guest spot and turned off the car.
“Lucky for you I’m still feeling the pleasant aftereffects of that amazing dinner and tub of popcorn. Come on.”
They walked to her floor. Unlike the last time he’d been by, the noise level had grown significantly. He heard shouting, laughter, loud music, and a couple going at it the way he wanted to with Lara.
She blushed. “Ignore Romeo and Juliet. Friday night is their date night.”
“Must make it awkward, seeing them the next day or hitting the stairwell together.”
“Oh, it is. Trust me. Especially when Jo-Jo’s spent half the night riding Eric like a bucking bronco, complete with
wahoos
and
ride ’em cowboys
.”
He grinned and waited while she opened her door. He noticed she locked it behind them, and he approved. A woman couldn’t be too careful, especially after dealing with assholes like Ron. And speaking of which…
“So have you heard from Ron since?”
“Nope, and I like it that way just fine.” She dropped her purse and hung up her jacket in the closet. Then she motioned for his, so he took it off and handed it to her. “You want something to drink?”
“What do you have?”
“Beer and water. I ran out of milk this morning.”
Another thing they had in common. A tendency to put off grocery shopping. “How about a beer?”
“Good choice.” He watched her putter in the kitchen, giving new testament to the term domestic
goddess
. That shoulder-baring sweater was driving him crazy with the need to pull the rest of it down. Anything to expose the creamy wealth of her breasts.
She handed him a beer and had one for herself, which he liked. She must trust him a little if she finally didn’t mind drinking with him. “Wait here.” She returned with a ratty deck of cards. “I deal.”
“I’m a guest. Shouldn’t I get to choose?” he asked as they settled at the kitchen table.
She shuffled the deck. “You’re shifty. I’ve seen you at darts.”
“That was sheer skill.”
“According to Foley, you must have stepped over the line a few times to get closer.”
He snorted. “Please. Foley’s muscles get in the way of his aim. And his brain.”