Branded as Trouble (Rough Riders #6)(42)

“Seriously?”


She crossed her hand over her heart. “No kidding. I never fully recovered.”


“I’ll bet the game was the only place he scored that night.”


“You got that right.” Well, they’d scored some premium grass right after that, but it wasn’t something she wanted to confess to Colt. She blew out an impatient breath after struggling with the mass of wires attached to the goggles.


“Here, lemme help you.” Colt brushed her hair from her face; his touch lingered on the curve of her neck. India held perfectly still, hoping he’d kiss her. But he only eased the helmet on with a friendly pat on her helmeted head. “Ready?”


“No.”


He dropped four tokens in the slots anyway. The racetrack roared to life inside her goggles and she was lost to everything but the thrill of the chase.


It wasn’t much of a contest. Colt won every game. Evidently gentlemanly behavior didn’t include allowing your date to win even one race.


India ripped off the goggles with mock disgust. “I give. Now can we play a game that I might have a chance at beating you?”


“Like what?”


She spied the skee-ball racks in the corner and grabbed his hand. “Like that one.”


“Sugar, have you ever played?”


“No. But how hard can it be? Bowling with croquet balls?” She preened a bit. “I rock at croquet. Bet I can kick your butt.”


“What are you willin’ to bet?”


“That’s just an expression Colt, don’t be so literal.”


His answering chuckle was low and sexy. “Just as I suspected.”


“What?”


“You ain’t willin’ to put your money where your sexy mouth is.”


He thought she had a sexy mouth? “And you are?”


“Yep.”


“Okay, Mr. Moneybags, you’re on.”


“Name your bet.”


“One dollar.”


“Nope.”


“Fine . Two dollars.”


He shook his head. “Not what I want.”


“What do you want?”


“How about a kiss?”


Her midsection tightened and blood rushed into all the places blood wasn’t supposed to rush on a first date. “Three dollars?”



“A slow kiss,” he said, acting like he hadn’t heard her.


“Five bucks.”


He erased the gap between them, forcing her to meet his twinkling eyes. “One slow, deep, wet, kiss, for as long as I want.


That’s my final offer.”


“Do I get to pick where you kiss me, slow and long and deep?”


“Ornery woman. You’re hell on my intention of bein’ a gentleman.”


“If I preferred a gentleman, I’d be dating your cousin Blake.”


Shit. That was the wrong thing to say. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”


“Think? Yeah, I get that a lot from you. Just forget it.” He scowled, shoving a hand through his hair. “Let’s just play the damn game and have some damn fun.”


For the next ten minutes, India watched him from the corner of her eye. Didn’t seem like he was having fun. At all . He cursed every time the ball landed in the lowly five-point hole, which was a lot.