Ryker’s lips twisted. “You’re loyal to him,” he said.
I shrugged. “He’s my boss.” In my opinion, I didn’t need to elaborate. That pretty much said it all.
Ryker studied me a moment longer, then changed the subject. “Let’s eat.”
He took my elbow and steered me toward the door to the place I hadn’t really noticed until now.
It looked like a dive, a bar I’d quickly pass by and make sure not to stare at for too long lest someone I’d rather not tangle with looked back at me. The sign above the door read BLUE STREAK.
“Is this really a place you want to bring a date?” I blurted, glancing up at him.
“What’s wrong with it?” he asked with a frown as he propelled me inside.
My face grew warm and I realized I may have just made a huge faux pas. He was a cop. I knew they didn’t make a lot of money. Maybe this was the kind of place he could afford and I was being all hoity-toity snotty about it.
“N-nothing,” I stammered, quickly trying to backtrack. “It’s fine.” I gave him a weak smile.
The place wasn’t as bad on the inside as the outside looked like it’d be. The tables were heavy, distressed wood and there wasn’t a plastic chair in sight. There were lots of people here, with a higher ratio of men to women. Some were sitting at the bar drinking and watching the Cubs lose on television, while others shot pool at one of the two tables on the other side of the room.
“Hey, Ryker! How’s it going?” A woman approached, smiling and holding two menus.
“Doing good, Rachel,” Ryker said, his face creasing into a warm smile. “You?”
“Can’t complain. Just you two tonight?”
At Ryker’s affirmative, we followed her to a booth by the windows. I slid in and he took the seat opposite me. Rachel handed us the menus.
“Christy will be right over to take your order,” she said.
“You come here a lot?” I asked once Rachel had left.
He shrugged. “Often enough.”
I frowned, a suspicion forming in my head. “Is this a cop bar?”
Ryker grinned. “Gorgeous and smart. That doesn’t happen very often.”
I shot him a look, but I was faking. I decided I could get used to his compliments. But that explained why he’d brought me here—it was obviously a place he felt at home—which made me feel kinda bad about prejudging it.
Christy came by to ask what we wanted to drink. I ordered a glass of white wine, then saw Ryker’s lips twitch again.
“What?” I asked. He didn’t answer, ordering a beer instead, and when Christy walked away, I asked again. “What’s so funny?” I had the sinking sensation that I’d been right after all. Ryker’s asking me out was one big joke to him for reasons I couldn’t fathom.
“You know what? I should just go,” I said, grabbing my purse. I began to slide out of the booth, anxious to get away.
“Don’t leave,” Ryker said, snagging my arm in a tight grip. “It’s nothing, really. You’re just…classier than I’m used to.” He smiled a slow sexy grin that turned my bones to the consistency of warm butter. “I like it.”
I cleared my throat, looking away from the intense blue of his eyes, and set my purse back down. “Well, okay then.” Classier than he was used to. Hmm. I wondered how many women he’d dated to be able to use that phrase.
My attention was immediately diverted when Ryker shrugged out of his leather jacket. The T-shirt he wore fit him like a second skin, stretching tight across his chest and shoulders and leaving nothing to the imagination. His biceps and forearms were traced with veins from working out, leading to strong hands that were work-roughened, his fingers thick and long enough to make me imagine all sorts of inappropriate things. I said a silent prayer of thanks that a twist of fate in my otherwise dull life had afforded me this particular view tonight.
“So how long have you been a secretary, Sage?” he asked.
“Executive administrative assistant,” I mumbled, correcting him automatically. I gave a little sigh and reluctantly lifted my gaze from below his neck. Our eyes met and his lips curved, as if he’d known exactly what I’d been thinking. Heck, he probably had been. No doubt he had women drooling over him constantly.
And he can add me to his list, I thought.
“My mistake. How long have you been an executive administrative assistant?”