Challenging the Center (Santa Fe Bobcats #6)(11)

The order-a-whisky side gave in when the bartender Kat had apparently made BFFs with plopped one down in front of him like a mind reader, alongside a bottle of beer.

“You look like you might need this,” she said, not at all sympathetic, then clapped her hands and hollered out a cheer for her new friend.

Kat started off lip syncing to the words and just walking back and forth, smiling a little, waving when someone cheered extra loud. But by the first chorus, she was really into it, thrusting her arms in the air, head tipped back as she mouthed the drawn-out, “Ooooohhhh! Oooooohhh, trouble trouble trouble.”

By the second chorus, she’d worked in some sort of shuffle-step that people on the floor were copying. He saw phones out, knew they were recording her, and felt his back teeth grind together hard enough to make his dentist cry.

The only thing saving the show was the fact that, for all her innate sexiness, none of her moves were overtly sexual or seductive. She could have been any female of any age up there, just moving to the music without thinking twice about the audience. Just a woman in her bedroom with her earbuds in, the volume up too loud and tuning out the world. And that, in and of itself, was seductive. Add in her long legs, showcased in some shorts that were only short thanks to her proportions, and the way her lips moved as she mouthed the words…

He shifted on the bench, aware he was actually getting hard while watching her. Which wasn’t his fault, he reasoned. Hot woman plus atmosphere plus dance show equaled sexy thoughts. Right?

Right.

“She’s a natural!” the dark-haired bartender yelled at him, grinning as she clapped for Kat.

She was, and apparently loved it. Was it the attention or the thrill of being up on the bar dancing freely that gave her that gorgeous glow in her eyes?

The song ended, and she paused with both hands up in a Ta-da! gesture. Several lights went off from cell phones.

Michael only prayed they had no clue who she was or that, thanks to the dark interior of the bar, the picture quality would be crap.

Sorry, Sawyer. But you coulda warned me…



“That. Was. Awesome!” Kat hopped up and down beside Michael as they left the bar and walked toward the parking lot. Too much energy to walk, apparently. “What a rush! I mean, hitting the court is a sort of rush, but I never really think about people watching because, you know, they’re so far back. Blurs, really. But in there, they were just… here.” She held up a hand in Michael’s face, getting his attention, earning a scowl. “You know?”

“No, I don’t,” he said in a clipped tone. “Because that’s not something I would do.”

“What bull crap,” she said as he walked up to a Mustang. “Seriously? Cliché, what?”

“Classic,” he corrected, opening the door for her.

She stared at the car for a moment, then the space she was about to sit in. “Let me get this straight. You clear, what, six foot five?”

“Six six,” he said through his teeth.

“Six six. Good. I’m six foot myself. Fine, just short of six,” she added when he lowered his eyebrows. “Picky. And yet you buy this tuna can you call a car. Ever heard of leg room?”

“Ever heard of not biting the hand that gives you a free ride back home?”

“Ever heard of comfort over style?” she retorted, then squatted down to slide in the car. As her long legs pulled in one after the other, he found he couldn’t quite stop imagining how soft the skin of those silky limbs would feel under his hand. How many miles he would have to explore if he circled one delicate ankle with his hand, then ran his palm up slowly, inch by inch.

Kat snorted, and he blinked before looking up at her face.

“Done examining my legs, Doctor?”

What I wouldn’t give to kiss that smirk right off your smart mouth.

That way lay madness. So instead, he leaned in close. It took some effort, given how low the Mustang rode and how high up he started, but he considered the wary look in her eyes a victory. She should be wary. Of him, of her precarious situation with Sawyer, of the potential outcome of tonight’s stunt…

Mostly of him, really.

Wariness would be prudent on both sides of the fence.

“Just keep yourself from causing a spectacle in the car between here and home.”

“I didn’t—” she started, but he shut the door and walked around the hood to the driver side. As he reached his corner of the hood, the horn blared, jolting him back a step. The wench was grinning at him from the interior, her hand firmly on the steering wheel.

“You need a lesson in lightening up,” Kat declared as he got in the car and shot her one deadly glare. Clearly, his deadly glare needed some freshening up.

“You need a lesson in calming down.” Pulling out of the parking lot, he gave her one quick glance in the fading lights before they hit the open road. “What’s up with the attitude? Don’t you care at all about your career?”

She was quiet for a long time. Long enough he’d figured she wouldn’t answer the question when she actually spoke.

“Maybe this is how I care.”

It was spoken quietly, but he heard it clear enough. “Sawyer warned you—”

“Sawyer likes a paycheck.” Rolling her shoulders—he could only tell thanks to the proximity of their bodies in his tight interior—she waited a beat. “I’m bringing in a paycheck. That should be enough for him.”