A Guy Walks Into My Bar - Lauren Blakely Page 0,18
I’ll give you that. Must be quite an asset for your job.”
I stretch my arms above my head, my shirt riding up, revealing another one of my work assets. Or rather, a preview to six more of them. Let him watch and see what I’ve got going on in the abs department. I know what these cost me in crunches and gym time. All worth it for the fire in his eyes.
I lower my arms, because that’s enough eye candy to whet his appetite.
“Speaking of jobs, you have to get back to work. And while you’re mixing martinis, you should give some thought to my proposition.”
“Is that what you think I’ll be doing?”
“You’re a thinker. Yes, that’s what you’ll be doing.”
“And you’re a full-speed-ahead kind of guy.”
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
Dean hums, and I can see him mulling over my offer, so I leave one last lure for him.
“Besides, I have a busy day tomorrow. I shouldn’t be out too late anyway. Emma and I are going for afternoon tea at Fortnum & Mason. Aren’t you proud? So English of us.”
He laughs, sliding instantly back into that easy zone he lives in most of the time. His whole body moves with his laugh.
I just want him to do it again and again.
“I am quite impressed,” Dean says, then his lips curve into the start of a grin, and I swear I can feel him bending. “But tea’s not something we take lightly. You’ll have to mind yourself.”
There it is.
A spark.
“You’re exactly right,” I say, latching onto this potent possibility. “I’m going to be completely lost. Who knows what I’ll mess up?”
“So true. I wouldn’t want you to be overwhelmed by all the choices.”
His smirk tells me this is the path to what I want—another chance with him, without him fully admitting that he’s taking it. Maybe because of his rules, maybe for some other reason. I don’t know why he’s still reluctant, given our crazy chemistry, but I do know he’s finding it harder to deny me.
“Do you know how hard it is for an American to have tea without an Englishman there to help? English breakfast, Earl Grey, blah, blah, blah. Who can tell it all apart without the help of a Brit?”
Dean’s grin widens. “Right. It’s just like being in France or Japan or Portugal and needing a translator.”
“See? I knew you’d get it.”
“I get it completely. You need an Englishman to help you decide whether it is the cream or the jam that goes first on your scone.”
I had no clue there was a set order. “Yes, that. Exactly. As you can see, how else could a barbarian like myself enjoy a proper afternoon tea?”
“I can’t even imagine how you would,” Dean answers, then whispers, “The scone tastes the same either way.”
“Whatever you say.” I grin because it’s looking like he’s saying yes.
We stand on the street, as crowds walk by with their shopping bags and talk about the great weather.
This is it, my chance to seal this sort-of date with Dean. The man doesn’t seem opposed to public displays of affection, so I go for it.
I grab the back of his head and bring him close, giving him a hot, hard, hungry kiss that I hope leaves him wanting more.
I whisper against his lips, “I will see you tomorrow.”
Dean blinks, looking frazzled, maybe even as rattled as I feel. Then he nods. “Yes. You will.”
And I want to punch the air. But I restrain myself, keeping it cool. “I’ll need your number to text you the info.”
Dean types it into my phone then takes a deep breath. “All right. Tomorrow, then.” He licks his lips. “Fitz.”
Yes, there’s my name again, and it sounds so damn good the way he says it—like sex and desire on his tongue.
He turns to walk away, but before he covers five feet, he spins around and returns. With a resolute expression and dark eyes fixed on me, he takes out his wallet and fishes around. He finds a bill and presses it into my hand, curling my fingers around it. “You won the bet. Softball is great.” There’s a pause, then he taps his finger to his bottom lip, humming in consideration. “Or really, I suppose there’s something about how we played the game that worked for me.”
As much as it goes against my nature, I don’t touch him. I don’t kiss him, and I don’t say a word. I let my crooked grin do the talking as he enjoys having the