Upping the Ante (Betting on Love #4)

1. Blake

1

BLAKE

T hey say fake it till you make it, and if that doesn’t describe the process of getting a PhD, I don’t know what does.

“Congrats, man! You made it!” Miller tosses his head to get his shaggy blond hair out of the way as he raises a glass in my direction and takes a long sip.

I’m not sure I’ve made it just yet, but I did finish my PhD—blood, sweat, and tears and all that—and get hired at our local college, which is a big step toward making it.

Cam taps his soda to my pint glass, then to Maddox’s. “Cheers. Never thought we’d see the day we’d not only be able to celebrate with the esteemed Dr. Grantham, but with Dr. Grantham, Professor of Economics and Game Theory at Ardmore College. ”

I throw back the last sip then set my empty beer glass on the table and snag a handful of pretzels from the bowl in the center of the table. The scent of buffalo wings hits my nose as a waitress walks by, and I wonder if we should order some real food. McFadden’s has great appetizers. It’s part of the reason it’s our favorite bar.

“Assistant professor. Technically, that’s the rank. But thanks, guys. Maybe see if I can stick it out for a few weeks before you get too excited.”

“You’ve got this,” my brother, Lawton, says. He tosses a pretzel in his mouth. “Did you ever think you’d just be starting your first real job at age thirty-seven?”

I smack him with one hand. “Dude, I’ve been working.”

He holds up a finger. “Technically, you were still a trainee when you were doing your post-doc. And when you were TA-ing classes, you were a student. So this is the first time that it’s just a job.”

He has a point there, and it annoys me that he’s right. Lawton is several years younger than me, and all the way through college, he followed in my footsteps.

But then I chose the ill-advised path of getting a PhD and going into academia, while he went to the police academy. He just got a job up in the mountains of Colorado, working as a small-town cop, and moved up there a few months ago. Supposedly, the winters are brutal, with snowfall measured in feet instead of inches and temperatures rarely rising above zero.

I sent him a pair of long underwear to keep his junk from freezing and falling off.

“Anyway,” I say. “Thanks for coming out to celebrate. And I suppose Lawton’s right, even if he is a dick. This is my first job where I get a real paycheck.”

“So the next round’s on you?” Miller holds up an empty glass. “I’ll take another Yuengling.”

“I don’t get paid until I start.”

He shrugs. “I’m poor, too, man. I’m just a lowly grad student.”

I snort. “Yeah, who’s engaged to a future doctor.”

Miller grins. “True story. Man, she’s so out of my fucking league. I’m the luckiest bastard out there.”

“All of your women are out of your league,” I say, under my breath.

It’s true, too. Maddox is married to Holly, a social worker who has a heart of pure gold, and who happens to be his stepsister, although their parents got married after the two of them got together, both of them widowed. She’s at home with their nine-month-old son, Rhys, who is about the cutest little fucker I’ve ever seen .

Cam managed to get with Maddox’s sister, Addison, after a decade of crushing on her.

Miller, who I would have voted Least Likely to Settle Down, is engaged to a medical student named Becca. I’ve met her once, and she’s insanely smart. Or at least, book smart. She chose Miller, after all, which calls her intelligence into question just a bit.

Cam elbows me. “Just for that, this next round is on you. But for the record, yeah, Addie’s way out of my league. Don’t think I don’t know that.”

He pushes his glass across the table toward me.

I shove back from the table. “Lawton, give me a hand. Everyone drinking the same thing?”

Nods all around.

Lawton and I head to the bar, where I hand over my credit card and order four lagers—the proper way to order Yuengling, if you’re from Philadelphia—and a soda. I lean against the polished wood while the bartender fills the glasses.

“Hi, honey,” an unfamiliar voice says from behind me.

I assume someone is greeting their significant other, so I don’t turn around until something kicks me in the calf.

I spin around, looking for the source of the assault, only to see a pair of stiletto heels, one of them tapping against the floor. Long, shapely legs rise from the weaponized shoes. I follow them up, past a knee-length pencil skirt that highlights slim hips, a white button-down tucked into the waistband. The top button is open just enough to give a suggestion of lush tits beneath the no-nonsense top.

I force my gaze away from her chest to take in the rest of her. The woman standing in front of me has a tight smile on her gorgeous face.

And she is stunning .

My mouth goes dry as I get a good look at her face. High cheekbones, perfectly sculpted jawline. Light-brown hair that falls in waves just past her shoulders.

“Hi, honey,” she says again, her eyes narrowed and flashing, like she’s trying to send me a message.

I swallow and try to gather my thoughts.

Jesus, Blake.

I’m in my late thirties. I’m not some teenage boy who would be starry-eyed just from one look at a woman.

I peer over her shoulder, and when I see the man leering at her, it clicks.

“Hi, sweetheart,” I say. I drape my arm over her shoulders. “Didn’t hear you at first. Sorry, sweetie.”

Okay, that may be laying on the pet names a little thick.

“How was your day at work?” Seems like a fair assumption, given her outfit.

I refrain from looking down at her body again.

Is this enough? Am I selling it? Maybe I should lean in for a kiss.

I tilt toward her, hoping she’ll give me a signal of some kind. I’m sort of going in blind here.

“It was good.” She leans her head away from mine to look over her shoulder at the guy, who finally seems to be getting the hint, his hand stroking his scraggly goatee.

Okay, got it. No kiss.

“Sorry again,” she says to the guy, although it doesn’t seem like she’s the one to owe anyone an apology in this situation. “I told you I was just meeting my boyfriend.”

It’s starting to make sense. Creeper was flirting and wouldn’t take no for an answer, to the point that she needs me to help.

Now I’m invested. I don’t know this woman—not yet, at least—but I’m all in on our little ruse. I have no patience for guys like this, the kind who think they’re entitled to a woman’s attention unless she’s already with someone.

“This guy was hitting on you, babe?” I ask.

He raises his hands, stepping back so quickly that he bumps into another woman who’s just trying to make her way to the bar. “Sorry, man. I didn’t know she was taken.”

“Well, she is,” I say firmly, pulling her closer to me.

She’s tall, especially with the extra couple of inches from her high heels, the top of her head at my eye level.

“Told you,” she mutters.

The creep makes a beeline for the door, his overbearing cologne leaving a trail sandalwood and tobacco behind him as he retreats. I wait until the door shuts behind him before I slide my arm off her shoulders.

“Thanks,” she says, shaking her head with a laugh and an adorably crinkled nose. “Some guys just don’t take no for an answer, you know?”

“No problem. I’m sorry you have to deal with stuff like that.”

The bartender slides the beers toward me, and I lift one and hold it out to her.

“Need a drink to recover?”

She takes the glass and brings it to her lips, taking a sip. She really is gorgeous, her olive skin bright, her hazel eyes fixed on mine, her lips painted a deep red.

“Thanks. Although I really should be buying you a drink for saving me.”

“Go for it,” Lawton says .

I turn around to see him holding up a finger to the bartender, who fills another drink and passes it to him.

“I’ll be at our table. Have fun.” He gathers four glasses in his arms, leaving one beer for me, and carries them away.

I shrug. “Well, I’ll never say no to a free drink, but I have one already. Can I join you while we enjoy these?”

I lift the full glass then take a sip.

She scans the room. “Well, if I’m not taking you away from anything.”

I shake my head. “I’m out with my friends. But they came out to celebrate me, so they won’t mind me having a drink with you.”

She arches one perfect eyebrow. “What are you celebrating?”

“I finished my PhD.” I shrug, hoping I’m not coming off as a cocky asshole.

I mean, I am a cocky asshole, but while I’m proud of my academic accomplishments, it makes some people uncomfortable for some reason. Like because I went to school for a million years, I must be extra smart or something.

She doesn’t blink, though. Instead, she takes a sip of her beer. “Let’s finish these, and I’ll get you another one. Seriously, I owe you. There’s a table over there. ”

She sets off toward an empty two-top that’s against the brick wall without looking back.

I take the opportunity to peruse the rest of her while her back is to me. Her calves are toned, her shirt is tucked in at her narrow waist, and her ass looks amazing in that skirt, full and round. For a second, I can understand why men like that asshole won’t leave her alone.

It’s a good thing I’m not in the market for any kind of relationship. But I’m not opposed to one-night stands. If anything, I’m wide open.

I follow her to the table and slide into the seat opposite her.

She holds out a hand. Her fingernails are painted a pale-pink color. “Anyway, hi. I’m Kat.”

I return her handshake. Her grip is firm, authoritative. Combined with the pencil skirt, she exudes power and confidence. What does this woman do for a living?

“Nice to meet you, girlfriend. Blake.”

She laughs again. “Seriously, thank you. It’s such a cliche, you know? Having to pretend to be dating a stranger to avoid some other guy’s advances.”

I take a long swallow of beer. I feel a little guilty leaving my buddies. In addition to Lawton moving out to Colorado, Miller recently moved to upstate New York and is only in town for a few days.

But then, we’re at the bar celebrating me. So if I want to celebrate with this woman, I’ll damn well do it.

“Well, on behalf of my gender, I apologize for creeps everywhere.”

Kat taps a manicured fingernail against her flawless skin and studies me. “So you’re one of the good ones?”

“I like to think so.”

She nods, like she’s trying to decide whether to believe me. “Well, I’m glad there are some of you still out there.”

As she raises her glass to her lips again, I think about her words. I like to think I’m one of the good ones, but since when does being a “good guy” just involve not being a complete asshole and taking advantage of women? Or listening when a woman turns you down?

It’s a low bar, guys. It shouldn’t be that hard.

“So what do you do?” I ask, digging for something to keep our conversation going.

A small smile plays on her lips as she sets her beer down. “Tell you what. If you guess it, guess exactly what I do, I’ll tell you. Otherwise, it stays a mystery.”

“How many guesses do I get? ”

She considers, her finger tracing the edge of her glass as her lips curve. “Three.”

“Ten.” I can negotiate like no one’s business. I’m feeling my victory already.

“Five. Final offer.”

I run a hand across the stubble on my jaw. Beautiful and sassy. I could like this girl. I do like her, enough to want to spend more time with her.

“Okay, then. Let’s see. Assuming this is what you wear to work, you’re a professional. Some kind of executive, probably.”

Her expression doesn’t change, the slight smirk never fading as she skims a finger along the edge of her glass. “Specific guesses get a yes or no, Blake. This isn’t an open essay where you can bullshit your way to the right answer.”

I grin, knowing exactly what she means. It’s why I love teaching game theory instead of sociology or religion. “Fair enough. Are you a CEO?”

She shakes her head. “Guess again.”

She looks younger than me, but not by much. I’d guess she’s in her early thirties, so maybe CEO was a bit of a stretch.

“VP?”

Another head shake .

I tilt my head to the side, trying to read her. “Investment banker.”

“Nope. Would I be here at six p.m. if I were an investment banker?” Kat lifts her beer and takes a sip.

At this point, our drinks are starting to get warm, but both of us continue to nurse them slowly. I’m doing whatever I can to draw this out, to spend more time with her.

“Good point.” I consider the options. I’m not sure a doctor or nurse would wear heels like hers all day, but maybe… “Healthcare administration?”

She wrinkles her nose. “God, no.”

“Is that a no to healthcare or to admin?”

Kat points a finger toward me, her tone flirtatious. “Hey. Technically, that’s two guesses. But to answer your question, which is one hundred percent cheating, no, I don’t work in healthcare. And not in healthcare admin. Enjoy your freebie. You’re down to your last guess.”

I keep guessing, loving this game, but as I take the last sip of my beer, I still haven’t figured it out. “Come on. Give me a clue.”

Kat laughs. “Nope. Rules are rules.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I set the empty glass down. “Let’s see. Model?”

It was the first thing that popped into my head, honestly, but I thought if I guessed that first, she’d be offended.

By the look that crosses her face, I think that may have been a valid concern.

Kat turns her wrist to check her watch. “Oh, goodness. It’s late. I need to get going.” She stands from the table and then pushes in her chair. As she takes a step toward the front of the bar, she brushes my forearm with her fingers and making electricity rise in their wake. “It was great to meet you, Blake. Thanks again for saving me.”

“Wait.” I reach for her arm.

Even if I haven’t guessed what she does for work, I’m not ready to let this woman leave, not just yet, and definitely not so suddenly, without learning more about her.

“I’m sorry if I offended you with that guess. It’s just that you’re stunningly beautiful. It wasn’t a line, I swear. I want to get to know you. Do you have something you need to get to? Or are you just ready to leave the bar?”

She shrugs, her body relaxing ever so slightly. “Just ready to get out of here.”

I run my fingers up her arm, from her wrist to her elbow and then back down her soft skin. I don’t miss the goose bumps that trail behind my touch .

“Can I join you?”

She fixes me with a stare, one eyebrow raised. “Why?”

I shrug as I rise from my seat, standing just a few inches too close to her. Now or never, right?

Even in the bar, I can smell her perfume, something floral. It’s too sweet for her—she should be wearing something musky and complex and mysterious, like her. Even from the short time we’ve shared together so far, I can tell she has an edge to her.

From this angle, I have a perfect view of her hardened nipples, and a quick glance over her shoulder lets me see her gorgeous, round ass. God, the things I want to do to that ass.

Her chest rises and falls with shallow, quick breaths, and she darts her pink tongue out to wet her bottom lip. She hasn’t said it, but she’s as turned on as I am right now.

“Because I’m attracted to you. I want to spend the night with you.” I lean in, letting my jaw scrape against her cheek as I speak directly in her ear. This is a gamble, but I don’t have anything to lose. “Because you want me, too.”