Читать книгу Hitting the Mark - Jill Monroe - Страница 7

TO BE HONEST, Danni wasn’t one for dating. From seventeen until twenty the only one-on-one time she’d spent with a male had been with her lawyer. So when other girls her age were learning the rules of dating, refining their flirtation skills, honing their allurement proficiency, she was left alone on her bunk with her notebook.

She’d write for hours in that notebook. Things she wanted to do. Places she wanted to go. She’d developed lists. Lots and lots of lists. The list she reviewed most often was her dodge list. Men she planned to avoid. Ranking near the top of the list were men like her father. That ruled out anyone with charm and a glint in his eyes. Charisma times sexy eyes always equaled a girl in trouble.

Falling right below sweet talkers were the nice boys. First, what in the world could she possibly have in common with them? Nice boys usually came with nice moms, and she’d never pass that test. Plus, they held an aura of boredom.

Next—obviously no one with a criminal past. They’d probably wind up with some kind of one-upmanship thing going on, and that would just be weird.

Anyone wanting to “save” her was also out. Savers usually had more problems than she did, and that was a lot of dysfunction.

Around her nineteenth birthday, Danni realized her list of “not wants” left her with a negative vibe. So she restarted her list to catalog the qualities she wanted. To her surprise, she found she required only three.

Must have a job. Yes, very good start. Very unlike her dad.

Must be driven. Ambition never hurt anyone. Also very unlike her dad.

And be a decent person. That was where Danni always got stuck. Aside from the robbing and stealing, her father was fairly decent. It’s not as if he’d go and kick a dog or anything. He did have a code—his code—by which he lived. But she wanted someone, who at his core, had principles. Principles that didn’t come with a string of option-out clauses.

So, who did that leave her with? Corporate men and musicians.

She’d struck out royally with the musicians. On the face of it, they seemed to be her ideal. Driven, sort of had a job, and they were sometimes decent, even sensitive. But in the end, their life was all about their music. Their next gig. And could she spot them some money to buy a new amp?

Since the corporate men weren’t clamoring at her door to get the girl with a past and a rap sheet, her dating experience had ended there.

Despite him allowing her to pay, Eric seemed corporate. She almost hated to go out with him since this would be her last shot of keeping the corporate fantasy alive. Maybe it would be better to not ever know. If this date failed, where would she be? Did she have the stomach to start her lists all over again? Or never date? Both sounded okay and terrifying at the same time.

Her doorbell rang, and she moved slowly, her fingers stilled on the doorknob. This was it. Her chance to see if corporate worked for her.

She’d told Eric no game-playing, so she opted to be ready on time. He’d told her nice casual. And thank goodness because all the designer stuff was at the dry cleaners. So she greeted him on Sunday evening in black capris and a beaded green tank with a black half-jacket for her shoulders. And she had the shoes right for this play. Sandals, low heel so as not to be too provocative, but strappy to draw attention to her ankles, which for some reason men, be they loser or lawyer, seemed to like.

Her hair had been the problem. She wanted flirtatious and serious. Finally, Danni opted to leave her blond hair down her back with a few strands pulled up in clips.

Appreciation lit his dark eyes, and she let out a relieved breath. She hadn’t even realized she’d been nervous. Okay, lie. She just didn’t want to admit how very anxious she was. What she needed to do was to openly check him out. Put her focus on Eric.

Actually, he looked a lot better than she remembered. And she remembered him gorgeous. Navy pants, relaxed enough to be casual, tight enough to let her know he was a man. He didn’t appear nervous. Damn.

“You ready?” he asked. She’d forgotten how sexy his voice was, too. Deep and rich and husky.

She nodded, slipping the strap of her spangly purse over her shoulder. “So, where are you taking me?”

He pulled the door shut behind her, turning the handle to make sure it was locked. Then his hand fell to the small of her back. Warmth from his fingers seeped through the thin cotton of her tank.

“One of my coworkers recommended a dinner club. The singer there is amazing.”

Was liking music a bad sign? “Did you ever want to be a musician?”

He shook his head, and gave her a strange sidelong glance. “No. Why do you ask?”

Danni laughed. “No reason. Never mind.” Corporate. Definitely corporate.

Fifteen minutes later they were seated and facing one another as they had at the coffee shop. She sized up the restaurant in moments. Moderate to upper level in price range. Couples mainly. Management probably dealt more in credit cards, not a lot of cash in the till. The real money was probably in the register at the bar. And there was a delicious smell of cheese and artichoke dip in the air.

Hmm, probably assessing where the cash was kept did not indicate ideal first-date behavior. Danni grew ill at ease.

Feeling awkward was a new one for her. As the roper in her father’s schemes, she’d always been highly familiar with her mark, prepared for every situation. Should she approach Eric like that, see him as the mark? Except she hadn’t put in the practice time or the research to really know him.

The only advice she had came from Cassie. Her friend’s few choice words of wisdom had been to stay with neutral topics. Keep the conversation going. Avoid long silences.

The silence between them now was stretching to near Olympic proportion. She shifted in her seat.

“So tell me, Danni, have you dated much?”

Good Lord, could he tell she was a rookie? Was she that bad at first dates? She’d almost choked on her water.

Eric continued. “You didn’t leave me waiting on the couch in your apartment. You haven’t asked one hypothetical question, and no coy hair flip.”

“Coy hair flip?” she asked, very curious.

“You sort of toss your hair over your shoulder and look at me from the corner of your eye.”

As long as he was passing out pointers, she’d give it a try. Danni rotated her shoulders and tossed her hair, never breaking eye contact. “Like this?”

The smile had left his face. “Uh. Exactly like that.”

His words were slow, deeper than before. Serious heat burned in his brown eyes.

Maybe corporate was the ticket. No musician had ever looked at her this way. Like he wouldn’t mind completely crashing the table between them. And yes, right on schedule, there were the nerves.

Get it together. She couldn’t let him get the upper hand. Playing it light should work. Don’t make it mean much.

“I have to admit, I haven’t dated a lot,” she told him, her finger tracing the rim of her glass. She met his gaze. “So tell me more of what I should be doing.”

Eric glanced at his watch. “Well, right about now, you’re telling me what big muscles I have.”

Danni laughed. “So that’s what girls normally do then, huh?”

“Yes. Along with wondering how quickly you can get me out of my pants.”

Hmm, there was charm. That was bad. Sweet talkers, aka charmers were off her list. But they were so…charming. She’d never associated corporate with charming before. They were supposed to be solid, not whimsical, certainly not witty.

“I thought it was the man who was supposed to be wondering how to get me out of my pants.”

But Eric just smiled, as if he had it all figured out.

The rest of their meal followed a predictable pattern of weather, sports and stuff. She never grew bored though. Her dad had always insisted suits were dull. He believed the nine-to-five life was a drag, and that Flynns were not cut out for the ordinary.

Too soon they’d paid the check and were strolling to the parking lot, toward his car for him to take her home.

Although Danni had limited experience with first dates, she could figure out that him wanting to take her home immediately was not a good sign.

“So that’s how first dates go,” she said.

“They can,” he replied, his voice filled with promise.

“What does that mean?” she asked glancing up. Man, oh man, he was great to look at. She’d kind of avoided it for most of the evening because she knew her eyes would probably want to eat him up like she had that chocolate cheesecake.

“Well, a first date can end here. Or maybe I can say something like, ‘Danni, since I’m new in town and don’t know what I can do in Reno for fun, do you have any ideas?’”

Danni laughed at his suddenly formal and stiff tone. Yes, that’s how she pictured a first date with a corporate suit kind of guy.

“And then you can say…” he prompted.

Fine, Danni understood now how this game worked. She wasn’t usually so slow on the uptake, but she chalked it up to her being distracted by his broad shoulders. Or the amazing way he smelled. Or the considerate way he adjusted his longer stride to her shorter steps.

She cleared her throat. “I can say, ‘Eric, you haven’t lived in Reno if you haven’t bowled.’”

The stiffness in Eric’s formal posture vanished and he laughed. “Bowling? Are you serious?”

“Hey, in Reno we take our bowling very seriously. And you’re no one in Reno if you haven’t bowled at least a frame in the Taj Majal of Tenpin.”

“And that would be here…in Reno?”

“Right. The National Bowling Stadium.”

At the car, Eric held the door open for her, but blocked her entrance. She turned to face him. His smile was so sexy it hurt to look at. “This I have to see.”

If she hadn’t been truly aware of the broadness of his shoulders or the strength that simply oozed from him before, she was conscious of it now. Bigness was an angle some con men used to intimidate a mark, so usually she was immune and it certainly never impressed.

But Eric’s imposing size made her want to be enfolded in his arms. Feel the strength of him as he pulled her close. Run her fingers along the hard lines of his chest.

He stepped back, his hand seeking hers as he helped her into the front seat, his fingers lightly caressing her hand, arm, shoulder as she slipped into the seat. There was one of those shivers again. Danni had to refrain from fanning her face after Eric shut the passenger door.

The bright lights and the silver plated bowling ball of the National Bowling Stadium soon greeted them. “Never thought I’d see a bowling alley lit up like a casino,” Eric said as he angled into a space.

“I told you we take our bowling seriously. Wait until you get inside. You have your choice. You can take the escalator or the glass elevator to the fourth floor.”

“By all means, we should take the elevator.”

As they stepped off the elevator, Eric let out a low whistle. “You were right. It’s impressive.”

Over seventy lanes stretched before them. “It’s longer than a football field.”

Large video screens displaying scores and graphics stood out predominantly. The smell of oil and the sound of pins hitting the wood surrounded them as they rented some shoes and chose a lane.

“Are you a good bowler?” he asked as they each picked up a ball and checked for the appropriate weight.

“My dad always took an interest in bowling. One of his first jobs was to manually set up pins and send the balls back. The ball returns here over thirty miles an hour.”

“Your dad live in Reno?”

Grrr. Why had she mentioned her father? She immediately felt a tension between her and Eric at the mere reference to him. All on her part of course, but surely he could feel it, too.

She shook her head. “No, he never visits here. Stop stalling, you ready?” she asked, infusing breeziness into her voice.

Eric selected a black ball, the first one he’d tried. “Not sure how good I’ll do, but I’m ready.”

“Remember, the trick is not to try to knock all the pins down on the first roll. Otherwise, the machine cheats you out of your second ball.”

He groaned. “And here I’ve been doing it all wrong. Thanks for the tip.”

“You’re welcome,” she said with a smile.

In fact, Eric turned out to be a pretty decent bowler. While he didn’t make any strikes, he managed to clean up with a few spares. Her own approach was lousy, and she sent her ball to the gutter more times than she would have liked. But it wasn’t all bad. Every time she bent to retrieve her ball, she felt Eric’s brown gaze on her body. He was checking her out. So she put an extra wiggle in her step. That’s when he began missing his spares.

They finished their first game fairly quickly.

“For someone who claims to know a lot about bowling, you don’t bowl all that well,” Eric teased.

Danni looked up at the screen above their heads. She hadn’t even broken a hundred. Pathetic.

“Are you up for another round?” he asked.

“You know, Eric, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were egging me on just so you could beat me again.”

“No, it has everything to do with form.”

“Can’t tear your eyes off my backside, can you? Okay, I’ll give you another game…care to make it interesting?”

Now where had that come from? Had she actually suggested they bet on a bowling game? Old patterns. If he had the chance, her dad bet on which way the wind would blow. And he was always right.

“How about the winner chooses the next outing? And believe me, I won’t be choosing bowling,” he said, his voice lowered to a provocative timbre.

Next outing? Her stomach got all fluttery. Eric wanted to see her again. She wasn’t being a total dud on this date.

Eric stuck out his hand for a shake.

She stood and wrapped her fingers around his strong hand. “It’s a deal,” she told him. And she wouldn’t let the warmth of his hand, or the fact that it took him forever to let go distract her. No she wouldn’t. Because she was a professional.

Turning, Danni picked up her ball, blew into the finger holes and lined up her feet to the left of center. Her ball slammed into the pocket.

Strike.

Strike.

Strike.

“I’m being hustled, aren’t I?” Eric asked on the fifth frame.

“Being? Honey, past tense. You were hustled.” Yeah, old patterns. She hadn’t even realized until the sixth frame of their first game that she was deliberately throwing it. It had just been so ingrained.

“We’ll see,” he vowed. A gleam entered Eric’s gorgeous brown eyes. He stepped up and rolled his ball down the lane. All the pins fell on his first ball. Brooklyn style. But a strike was a strike. And he hit two more.

So it seemed she wasn’t the only one holding back. It was kind of sweet. It had become fairly obvious in the first few frames of their first game that she was lousy, so Eric had adjusted his own play so he wouldn’t blow her out of the water.

Awe. It almost made her feel guilty for what she was about to do. Almost.

Eric was on his approach to get the spare in the ninth frame when the gate suddenly closed and the sweep pushed the remaining two pins away. Eric turned to face her, glaring.

She quickly took a step away from the ball return. She raised her eyebrows in innocence. “Oh, was that me? I guess I accidentally pressed the reset button.” She added the coy hair flip for emphasis. “Sorry.”

His eyes narrowed farther, but his lips were lifting into a wry grin. “Yeah. I can see how that could happen.”

Danni finished the tenth frame in a series of three strikes, handily beating Eric. And not a sign of nerves.

He didn’t look mad that she’d hustled him. Instead, he seemed almost intrigued. Oh, yes, the theory on nice boys. They liked naughty girls.

“I guess I owe you,” he said.

“You can pay your debt with…ice cream.”

He sighed heavily. “More time with you. I guess I have to honor my word.”

A SHORT WHILE LATER they drove to an ice cream parlor close to many of Reno’s casinos, making what she assumed was normal first-date chitchat.

A woman could tell if a man would be a good lover by the kind of ice cream he ordered. Danni actually didn’t have an opinion on this, but a theory was forming in her mind.

If Eric chose standard-issue fair—chocolate, vanilla, strawberry—not a lot of adventure between the sheets. Oh, it wouldn’t be bad, not as if he ordered something with pineapple topping. That’s just yuck. She could never sleep with a man who ordered that. But if a man mixed two flavors she knew a little something more would be happening in the sex department.

Eric ordered mega-chocolate peanut butter swirl with nuts and marshmallows. Her nipples got all tingly.

Danni ordered her usual chocolate chip cookie dough and they sat down in one of the booths.

An excited girl in a princess crown danced around her parents’ table with her ice cream cone.

Eric laughed. “How long before that scoop of ice cream hits the floor?”

“It won’t. She’s going to eat the whole thing.”

Eric shook his head. “I think you’re wrong on this one, ace.”

“Care to make it interesting?” she asked. Great. Here she was at it again. She tried to hide her frustration with a smile.

“You’re on.”

She and Eric watched as the child continued to dance and eat her cone until the very last bite.

Eric turned to Danni. “How did you know?” he asked.

“Because she’s a girl and it’s ice cream. Dancing in your sparkly tiara is fun and all, but there’s a seriousness about dessert that all girls understand.”

“Ahhh. So basically you’re saying I lost that bet because I’m a man.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. It must be hard to be a step behind all the time. And hey, you didn’t tell me the terms of the bet.”

“You’re right.”

She gave him a playful swat on the arm. After they were finished, he helped her to her feet. It was getting late. Just how long could she stretch out this first date? She still wasn’t ready for it to end.

“Have you seen the arch yet?” she asked. Reno was famous for the arch proclaiming it to be the Biggest Little City In The World.

“Only by day.”

“Well then, you have to see it by night. There’s no other way to view it.”

Eric drove into one of the casino parking lots and then they walked toward the arch.

“I’ve heard that if you kiss under the arch you’ll have good luck at the tables,” she told him. Okay, actually she just made that up, but she was done playing around to see if Eric liked her or not. And if he missed that wide-open invitation, then he was either an idiot or not attracted to her. Which also made him an idiot.

“I don’t believe in luck,” he said, his tone flat.

She was about to put him in the idiot column, because if anything stuck that her father had taught her, it was that life was a series of luck. Some of it good, a lot of it bad. But most of it luck. Then she realized he was teasing. Despite the darkness, the lights on the strip showed the heat in his eyes. Eric wanted to kiss her. Badly.

“Do you believe in missed opportunities?” she asked, her voice becoming breathless. Because hello, opportunity was knocking.

His stare pinned her in place. “I believe in making my own opportunities.”

“Really,” she said, her gaze never leaving his. “Well, I wouldn’t let you kiss me anyway.”

His eyes said liar. “I wouldn’t want to kiss you. I don’t kiss on the first date. What kind of man do you think I am?” he asked as he leaned toward her.

And then suddenly she was in his arms and his lips were on hers. This was no awkward, first-date-where-do-you-put-your-nose kind of kiss. Eric knew where to put his nose. And his hands. And everything else.

His lips moved along hers slowly. Softly. She’d expected hard, but this, this lightness was amazing. It was driving her crazy.

Her breath caught. His fingers sank into her hair, drawing her closer. His lips firmed, the kiss deepened. His fingers drifted, fanning against her cheek, caressing her.

If she didn’t believe in a kiss bringing good luck, she surely would now. She planned to get lucky very soon. Her skin turned sensitive, her nipples tight and aching and every cell in her body chanted more, more, more.

All this, and he hadn’t even gotten to the good stuff yet. And she sensed Eric had a lot of the good stuff. Mega-chocolate-peanut-butter-swirl-with-nuts-and-marshmallows good stuff.

“You’re right, Danni. That arch is something else,” he said, his lips lightly tracing along her forehead.

She smiled, not so much from his words, but from the rugged sensuality in Eric’s voice that told her he wanted her.

And that’s when she got nervous.

Damn. Now he had the power again. She’d never felt so interested in anyone before. That was bad. Very bad.

She could throw caution to the wind. After all, for generations people had gambled in this city whether in the silver mining fields, or the casino. One thing she’d learned was to always go after the sure thing, and Eric Reynolds was not that. The odds were against they’d even make it past date two. They were totally different. They probably wanted totally different things.

It would never work out.

That’s when she reached for his chin, drew his lips down to hers and kissed him hard. In the end, she was a gambler.

Although she’d initiated the kiss, Eric quickly took over, backing her into one of the shadowed areas. His tongue swept into her mouth, and she met him kiss for kiss. He tasted faintly of chocolate and peanut butter, and yummy, yummy man. He pulled her to him, his strong arms holding her against the hardness of his chest. His fingers stroked down her arms, finding her hands and placing them around his neck.

He wanted her to touch him. Triumph made her fingers bold. He’d been checking out her backside as they bowled. She hadn’t been the only one. Her hands made a winding trail down his shoulders, under his arms and along his spine.

Then she grabbed his ass. There was that gambler side of her again.

With a groan, he broke off the kiss. He rested his forehead against hers, his breathing harsh. “You know, I thought it was bad luck when I forgot my dryer sheets.”

“And then you had to deal with me.”

“That’s when my luck changed.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in luck.”

“Guess that arch made me a believer. I haven’t made out in public since I was in high school,” he said, his voice traced with humor and disbelief.

“Glad to see I have a naughty influence on you.” Leading someone to a life of sex beat a life of crime any day.

“You wouldn’t believe.” He paused for a moment, as if deciding what to do next. Taking a deep, almost resigned sounding breath, he reached for her hand. “Come on, let’s see how our luck holds out in the casino.”

The smile left her face. “No, that’s okay. We don’t have to go in there.”

“I know for a fact you’re great with a bet. I’m a wizard with the comps in this place. Let’s go.”

If it weren’t for that mind-numbing kiss, she’d be able to come up with a much better excuse much quicker. But she couldn’t step one foot onto that casino floor. It would be all over then. He’d know about her past, and she wasn’t ready for that. “No, you shouldn’t waste your comps on me.”

“I’m teasing. This is where I work.”

She stopped. “You work here? At the casino?”

A confused line appeared between his brows as he nodded. “I just started. Is that a problem?”

“I guess I thought it was computers or something.”

“I’m head of security.”

And that’s when Danni hightailed it right out of there.