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.”
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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.”
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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.
She had to do something to make up for her bout of bitchiness.
She could be fun. Playful.
As Colt was about to toss the ball, she tickled his left side, from his hip to his ribs. He faced her with a look of utter disbelief, forgetting about the forward motion of the ball. It flew from his hand and bounced off the top of the metal cage, rebounding toward them.
India yelled, “Duck!” and jerked him down, keeping an eye on the ball as it bounced on the red carpet and narrowly missed smashing his foot.
“What the hell were you doin’?”
“Saving you from the run-away ball.” Why wasn’t he pleased by her quick thinking?
“You were saving me?” he echoed. “It was your fault that the damn thing got away from me in the first place. Were you hopin’ to distract me so you’d win by default?”
“No. I was trying to be spontaneous and fun. Jesus. Now do you believe me that I suck at this dating stuff?”
A beat passed. Colt bestowed that bad boy grin that wreaked havoc on her at the most basic level. “Well, if the datin’ stuff doesn’t work then we can go to plan ‘B’.”
“Which is?”
“Lots and lots of kinky, wild sex.”
“Have I mentioned I’m an alternative plan kind of chick?”
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He laughed. “Thought that might spur your interest. Let’s stick with plan ‘A’ for now. Maybe we’d better sit down.”
As Colt led her back to the table, they passed a walled-off area she hadn’t noticed. Apparently he hadn’t noticed either because when he did, he almost dislocated her arm dragging her inside the small space. “Holy crap. I haven’t seen one of them in years.”
India wasn’t sure what he was gawking at. “What?”
“ The Eight Ball Express . It’s a classic pinball machine.” He dropped her hand, staring at the machine with reverence. “Just one game.”
When Colt plugged the tokens into the slot, his eyes lit up as brightly as the lights on the machine. His concentration through the cachink cachink of the metal ball, the buzzers, the trilling bells and constant flipper action was impressive. But after ten minutes, India was bored. She sighed heavily.
He glanced at her for all of one second. “Ain’t this great?”
“Yeah, it’s hard, holding in all my excitement.”
The machine beeped
“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.”
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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.”
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Lorelei James
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.
She had to do something to make up for her bout of bitchiness.
She could be fun. Playful.
As Colt was about to toss the ball, she tickled his left side, from his hip to his ribs. He faced her with a look of utter disbelief, forgetting about the forward motion of the ball. It flew from his hand and bounced off the top of the metal cage, rebounding toward them.
India yelled, “Duck!” and jerked him down, keeping an eye on the ball as it bounced on the red carpet and narrowly missed smashing his foot.
“What the hell were you doin’?”
“Saving you from the run-away ball.” Why wasn’t he pleased by her quick thinking?
“You were saving me?” he echoed. “It was your fault that the damn thing got away from me in the first place. Were you hopin’ to distract me so you’d win by default?”
“No. I was trying to be spontaneous and fun. Jesus. Now do you believe me that I suck at this dating stuff?”
A beat passed. Colt bestowed that bad boy grin that wreaked havoc on her at the most basic level. “Well, if the datin’ stuff doesn’t work then we can go to plan ‘B’.”
“Which is?”
“Lots and lots of kinky, wild sex.”
“Have I mentioned I’m an alternative plan kind of chick?”
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He laughed. “Thought that might spur your interest. Let’s stick with plan ‘A’ for now. Maybe we’d better sit down.”
As Colt led her back to the table, they passed a walled-off area she hadn’t noticed. Apparently he hadn’t noticed either because when he did, he almost dislocated her arm dragging her inside the small space. “Holy crap. I haven’t seen one of them in years.”
India wasn’t sure what he was gawking at. “What?”
“ The Eight Ball Express . It’s a classic pinball machine.” He dropped her hand, staring at the machine with reverence. “Just one game.”
When Colt plugged the tokens into the slot, his eyes lit up as brightly as the lights on the machine. His concentration through the cachink cachink of the metal ball, the buzzers, the trilling bells and constant flipper action was impressive. But after ten minutes, India was bored. She sighed heavily.
He glanced at her for all of one second. “Ain’t this great?”
“Yeah, it’s hard, holding in all my excitement.”
The machine beeped
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