Chapter 7 #2
Somehow, I had a feeling he wasn’t kidding. I also had an indication I wouldn’t completely mind if he was forced to go on a little hunt. I’d surpassed being a bad girl. This was borderline evil.
“Alright then. One hour.” I had a tough time keeping a smile from my face.
“One hour. There’s a bar called Melito’s on Second Street.”
“I’ve seen the place.”
“Nothing fancy but if you’re hungry, they have decent food.” Was it possible his voice had dropped even lower?
“That will be fine.”
“Glad to hear it, Clementine.”
When he didn’t create enough space for me to pass by right away, I almost pushed him, but my instinct warned me about touching him. Besides, that would be against the rules I’d created. There was a crackle of electricity I wasn’t used to experiencing, warm and inviting.
I found myself enjoying the moment.
“No real personal details. You already know where I work and I know you’re a hockey player. That’s as deep as we need to go. Deal?”
Every facial expression allowed me to know he was seriously contemplating the rule placed on the table instead of just agreeing to anything. “Deal.”
With another nod, he backed away, allowing me to pass. I made it four steps before turning around. “One last rule. No names.”
He seemed perplexed. “But I already know your name.”
It was my turn to what I hoped he’d think would be an adorable smile. “No, you don’t.”
* * *
After hating everything about my look after taking a shower, including the ratty jeans I’d brought with me to change into, I’d all but decided to race home to find something more appropriate for my date.
Date.
I couldn’t believe he’d worn me down. While I’d enjoyed his attention and the lengths he’d gone to so I’d agree, it had been so long since I’d been out on anything that could remotely be considered a date, I was completely flustered.
Even the sexy red shirt I’d brought with me hadn’t perked up my mood.
There was little time to concentrate on my heavy anxiety.
Even the sadist within me refused to ghost the guy.
A quick check of my watch and I grabbed my jacket before heading out the door.
Of all things possible, I hadn’t expected to find my handsome mystery man leaning against the hood of a big Dodge Ram.
At least I knew he hadn’t been lying to me about his method of travel.
He’d added a cool leather jacket to the ensemble, dark sunglasses shading his eyes from the waning late afternoon sun.
I bit back a reaction, halting my movements until he noticed me. The way he slowly stripped off his shades reminded me of a scene directly out of a movie.
“What are you doing here?” My question was meant to be casual, not coming off as a lioness ready or even eager to pounce.
Meanwhile, he was entirely calm and collected. His legs crossed at the ankle, one hand resting on the hood. Far too sexy for his own good.
“I was worried that after you dissected all the rules you imposed, you might back out of our deal.”
Taking my time, I moved closer. “I didn’t know we had a deal.”
“You did make the date more of a business transaction. I almost suggested we draw up a contract.”
His words amused me, but I tried to keep him from noticing. He did have a point. “I like to be thorough in presenting expectations.”
“Admirable, but does the weight carried around your neck ever become too heavy?”
He’d regrouped from when I’d had the upper hand. A man who could keep up with my banter. Both touching and intriguing. “The weight can be useful when dealing with arrogant assholes who spend more time checking themselves in the mirror than doing anything else.”
“Double whammy. You’re one tough lady.” He pushed himself off the truck, pocketing his sunglasses.
“Just protective of my space.” We were right back to where we’d been before, tension building when there was no need for it. It was obvious we were attracted to each other.
Wild horses couldn’t drag that out of me.
“A lady who’s been hurt.” I obviously had a reaction since he straightened up. “Hey, I didn’t mean to get into your personal business. But whoever he was, I’m not like that.”
“I’m curious. Like what?”
“The kind of man who disrespects a woman under any circumstances. Not cool.”
For whatever reason, I believed him. “Just so you know. I’m not the kind of lady who would ghost a guy whether at a bar or even over a text.”
“No?”
“No need to. I’ll simply tell you to your face if you should back off.”
At least I was rewarded with another grin, which was highly preferable to his scowl.
Although all things being equal, the expression was also sinfully sexy. “I knew I liked you, even more so now.”
“Well, thank you very much.” I tried to keep from noticing every detail about him, but with every passing second, doing so was becoming increasingly difficult. “You can call me Clementine if you’d like.” No real names yet. I was a cautious girl.
“Alright. That’s preferrable to ‘hey you.’ Maybe one day you’ll honor me with telling me your real name.” There went those dimples again.
“If you’re a very good boy. So what do I call you?”
His chest expanded even as he puffed out his cheeks from taking a deep breath. When he spoke, he altered the tone, putting a little more swagger into the few words spoken. “You can call me Roy.”
“Roy?”
Using his hands, he encouraged me to figure out why. “Yeah, Roy. You don’t get it?”
He was seriously upset I hadn’t. “No, afraid not.”
“It came from the greatest movie ever made.”
I still had no clue what he was talking about. Until I did. My gasp was unexpected and seemed to delight him. “Die Hard.”
“Exactly!” Wow. He was extremely excited. “The absolute best Christmas movie of all time.”
His reaction when I shook my head vehemently was even more adorable. “We might have our first argument. Die Hard is not a Christmas movie. It’s an action flick with perhaps the finest example of male bravado in the business.”
Roy had more facial expressions than any man I’d ever been around, including my family. Although comparing him to two of the most emotionally controlled men in the world wasn’t entirely fair.
Especially seeing how Roy acted as if I’d shot him, even falling against his truck. He also made me laugh, which had been a rarity lately.
“You didn’t just wound me. You shot an arrow straight through my heart.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m not Cupid. Huh?”
My comment could easily be taken out of context. Our laughter faded, his eyes more intense than before. After returning to a standing position, he shoved his hands into his back pockets. “Yeah, that would be a mood killer. How about a ride? No hands.” He swung his body back and forth for emphasis.
“How about hands on the wheel and alright. There is something to be said about a man who knows how to maneuver Seattle traffic during rush hour.”
“Now that is a challenge I can win since I’ve lived in the area my entire life. Jump in, Clementine, even though that’s not your name. And buckle up.”
Within ten minutes, I realized my mystery date wasn’t simply the stuck-up athlete with a God complex.
He was funny, articulate, and genuinely fun to be around.
With the typical topics used as crutches on a first date tossed aside, determining who he was as a person and what made him tick was significantly more fun.
It was like solving a puzzle or a mystery with superficial clues that held much deeper meanings. Maybe I was overthinking the conversation, but whereas I’d always been a little awkward on dates, here I wasn’t expected to live up to anyone’s standards.
The bar was almost as unexpected, not anything like the heavy testosterone-based mancave I would have expected him to prefer.
While he was post college by at least a couple of years, he still had a bit of the college frat boy attitude.
Although that’s where the comparisons ended.
The rest was all rugged male all the time.
As far as the other guys in the bar, and the dive was predominantly littered with burly men, they were more like hairy werewolves or hair band groupies than anything else.
“Then what is your favorite Christmas movie?” Roy’s question came out of the blue since we’d been discussing the best pizza joint in town.
I still believed my choice was the only acceptable one.