Part of Your World(6)

My eyes flickered over to the pool table. “Oh, yes.” I looked back at him. “Carhartt Jacket Doug is tuning his guitar. So how much time do you think we have until I’m serenaded?”

“I’d say another minute or two.”

“Okay.” I leaned forward. “I’m going to pretend that you just said something really funny and I’m going to laugh. Then we can wrap this up.”

He put a hand to his chin. “What kind of laugh?”

“What kind?”

“Yeah. In theory whatever I’m saying to you has to be good enough to make you leave with me after only knowing me for five minutes. It’s going to have to look pretty convincing. I’m thinking Julia Roberts?”

This actually did make me laugh, which made him laugh—and it was adorable. His warm golden-green eyes creased at the corners and it lit his whole face.

God, he had a nice smile. Really nice. Something about it darted me right in the heart, took a little of my breath away.

We sat there, still cracking up, and I found myself biting my lip and leaning into him a little, and I realized with shock that I was flirting. Like, actually flirting, not pretending.

I’d been with Neil seven years. I thought Neil would be the last man I’d ever be with. Then I’d broken up with him and I told myself that I was done. No more men. I didn’t need one. I didn’t need the hassle. I completely rejected the idea of dating ever again. I’d bought a very nice vibrator and I’d retired myself from the pool at thirty-seven. Zero interest.

And now I was flirting.

It was like finding out a plant you killed was alive after all and just needed water.

“Uh-oh, Doug’s coming,” Liz whispered.

I tore my gaze away from Daniel. Doug had begun weaving his way through high-top tables toward the bar, guitar in hand.

“Time to go,” Daniel said.

Then he took my hand, helped me down from the barstool, and walked me out.





Chapter 4

Daniel



I grabbed her hand. We were trying to look comfortable with each other. I figured it was in character. Brazen, but in character.

She didn’t pull away.

The guys watched me with slack jaws as we made our way out of the bar. I put my other hand low and flipped them off.

When we got out into the parking lot, I let go of her. I pulled the bills out of my wallet and handed them to her.

She took the cash, counted it, and then tucked it into my shirt pocket.

“Uh, the deal was fifty-fifty,” I said, digging for the money to give it back.

“I’m paying you for the tow service.”

“Nope. I don’t accept,” I said, handing her the wad of bills.

She crossed her arms.

“You did the lion’s share,” I said, holding it out. “You earned it.”

“I wouldn’t even be here if you hadn’t hauled me out of the ditch. I would have paid Drunk Carl a lot more than fifty bucks. And I get to decide what to do with my ill-gotten gains. That’s how ill-gotten gains work.” She gave me a wry grin.

I shook my head with a smile. I could see she wasn’t going to fold, and I didn’t fight her too hard because if I wasn’t going to be out fifty bucks, I wouldn’t hit the guys up for the money tomorrow. Finances were tight for everyone in the off-season. And anyway, this had been well worth the entertainment value alone.

“So do you do this often?” I asked, putting the bills back in my wallet. “I have to say, this was the highlight of my week.”

She smiled. “Must be a slow week.”

I laughed a little.

A soft breeze blew a strand of hair across her face and she dragged it away with a finger. God, she was gorgeous. Red hair, fair skin, freckles peppering her nose. Deep brown eyes. Athletic. I’d seen more than she probably intended when she was getting changed in her car. I could smell her perfume. I didn’t know what it was, but my guess was it was something expensive.

This was a woman so far out of my league it wasn’t even funny. It was hard to believe that she was even here, standing in this parking lot full of cracked asphalt in the middle of nowhere, wearing that dress and those heels. Like a model had wandered away from a photo shoot for a fashion magazine and gotten lost.

And she was right about the fog. It hugged the edges of the parking lot like there was an invisible force field around the VFW. It was weird. And not great to drive in, that’s for sure.

We stood there for a moment. Then she nodded to her car. “Well, I better get going. You have to feed your kid—hey, is there anywhere to get food close by?”

I shook my head. “No. Rochester’s the closest city to Wakan, and that’s forty-five minutes north.”

She pursed her lips. “That’s what I thought. Okay, well. It was nice hustling your friends with you.”

“Yeah, you too.”

She smiled at me for another moment. Then she turned and headed for her car, and I stood there, watching her.

“Hey,” I called.

She turned. “Yeah?”

“I could make you something to eat. At my place.”

“What are you going to make me? Because I’m a very picky eater,” she said without skipping a beat.

I smiled. “Well, I don’t have any dinosaur chicken nuggets if that’s what you’re hoping for.”