CHAPTER FOUR #2
She shakes her head, and that shading of heaviness I noted earlier mantles her again.
“I’ve already got your number, Cash Noire.
I’ve dated my share of men with ginormous egos, and whether it was a puck, an octagon, wheels, or even a suit that had them full of themselves, the one thing they were all missing was balls. ”
I knew her ex was an athlete, but it sounds like there’s been more than one jock. And none of them knew how to treat a woman. Maybe I need to dig deeper into the assholes she’s been with. Or …
“I can assure you, I have a very nice pair. I’d be happy to let you take a closer look when I put you on your knees, but I wouldn’t want you to faint. So, unless we’re going to capitalize on the dinner you just had, you should let me treat you to a meal first.”
“To be fed more of your arrogance?”
“Along with my brilliance, wit, irresistible good looks, and impressive skill that would make those pretty eyes dance.” I let that dangle, and much to her dismay, her focus flits to below my waist, like I hoped, so I lean into that, gliding my knuckle beneath her chin to call attention to where she was looking.
“Yes. The impressive skill extends to many things, including the Adonis-like package. But you’ll have to wait until after our dinner date. ”
Whatever tension was plaguing her dissipates. She glances around the pier at the people milling about—mostly couples and families—and a quiet laugh floats out of her. “Do you always work this hard for a woman’s attention?”
“Never,” I tell her honestly.
She tilts her head, those mesmerizing eyes prancing all over my face with a verdict. “Let me guess—because you don’t have to?”
“Whether I’ve had to or not is irrelevant.
” That truth slips out before I can decide if it’s my best strategy.
If it were anyone else asking, I’d emphatically agree that I’d never had to work for a woman’s attention or explain that the one time I’d struck out wasn’t my fault.
I’ve been boasting as much for as long as I can remember because it’s accurate, but so is this. “I’ve never wanted to until I met you.”
Her breath hitches, and my pulse chants a victory ballad. For the first time since I met her, she appears speechless. Maybe that will lead to other ways I can swallow her words. But right now, we have an audience.
“You might as well meet my family. They came all the way to San Francisco for you.”
Her sculpted brows reach for her hairline. “That’s freaking weird.”
I can’t help but smile at that. Introducing her to them wasn’t the original plan. I brought them with the intention of throwing her off my stalkerish agenda and ditching them when she invited me to go home with her. But given her possible predicament, having her meet them might be best.
“I’m aware. But they’re the kind of people who show up. I asked. They came. They’re also the best people to have in your corner.” I level her with a probing stare, hoping she reads between my words and sees that we’re on her side if she needs something. “I’ll introduce you and then take you home.”
“I’m probably going to call an Uber.” She’s quiet for a beat, mulling over her next move, so I wait, until she finally settles on a plan. “We can head toward the ferry lot together, if you’re going that way.”
She’s not bolting in the opposite direction. That’s something.
My bar is getting dangerously low with this woman.
“Perfect. That’s where we’re parked.”
The introductions are brief because my family doesn’t shut up for anyone.
But their incessant back-and-forth kills any awkwardness she may be feeling as we stroll past the iconic carousel, vibrant tourist attractions, and the bay filled with boats and breathtaking views of the Golden Gate Bridge, so I don’t intervene.
The girls do most of the talking, telling her a bit about themselves and asking her questions that she answers vaguely.
My brothers observe, interjecting comments every now and then.
And I keep her close, relishing the glimpse of how easily she interacts with them.
Although she is a con, and that comes with the territory.
Eventually, Axel does his whole godfather thing. “Cash mentioned you might have some professional goals that align with La Lune Noire. So, even if you never give this guy your number, feel free to contact us should you need assistance.”
The smile that coasts up her cheeks is bright enough to illuminate the moonless sky. “He’s definitely not getting my number, so I appreciate you not holding that against me.”
“It’s the opposite.” Ryker bends around his wife, his hand draping her pregnant belly. “You blowing him off is the only character reference we need.”
“That makes sense.” She lingers on them and puffs a quiet laugh before glancing up at me with a teasing fire, melting all the iciness from earlier. “Displaying strong character is important to me. This is the stop for the Ubers.”
“There’s no need to call one. We have an extra car.” I bend to let my mouth tickle her ear. “I’ll drive you straight home, and we’ll have a short discussion about our next run-in. That’s it, Sly. Just a ride.”