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That pink curl came free again as she shook her head. “My sisters and I usually bet things like chores or clothing, but since there is no way you’d fit into anything I own and I really can’t imagine you scrubbing a toilet, I’m afraid I’m at a loss.”
It might have surprised some people to know princesses actually did chores, but I knew her parents. They were of the opinion that allowing their daughters to be waited on hand and foot wouldn’t prepare them for marriage. A good child, as long as they had only X chromosomes, would be well served in learning how to run a household before giving orders to whatever staff her husband decided appropriate in their own home.
“If you win, you can choose the most decadent dessert on the menu,” I offered, remembering that someone had a sweet tooth.
She smiled and nodded. “All right, and if you win, you can?—”
“Kiss you,” I provided.
Her smile wavered for a second and then returned. “Are you sure that’s what you want? I was going to offer to ask for another fork so we could share.”
“I’m sure, unless you’re chickening out?”
Sure enough, the barb ruffled her feathers as she tossed her hair and gave an exaggerated wide-eyed look my way which I suspected was meant to convey how very silly she considered my question. “I’m not the sort to renege on a bet. Since there is no way you’ll guess correctly, it’s a deal, but maybe I’ll blow you a kiss as a consolation prize.”
Believe me, Princess, if I thought there would be any blowing done, I might consider throwing the game.
Giving a silent order for my cock to shut the hell up, I pulled into the parking lot of my favorite BBQ joint. It wasn’t fancy, but it had the best damn ribs you’d ever sink your teeth into. If that wasn’t enough, I had never seen so much as a single member of the tabloids popping out to snap a photo at Smokey J’s. I might not have confessed I knew who she was, but I wasn’t taking the chance that someone at one of the more expensive restaurants wouldn’t. Shutting off the engine, I turned in my seat and held out my hand. When she just stared at it, I said, “A deal isn’t binding until the handshake.”
“Oh, right.” She smiled as she slipped her palm into mine. I had to grin when, despite the fact her hand had all but disappeared in my huge paw, she covered our joined hands, using both arms to jerk mine up and down in a rather exaggerated shake. “It’s a deal.”
“Deal,” I repeated as she pulled free. “So, how many tries are you going to give me?”
“What’s the matter, Max? Not so cocky now?” she teased
“Believe me, I’m still sure I’ll win this game, but figured I’d let you set the guidelines.”
She seemed surprised at being given the upper hand, but I supposed that wasn’t something she’d normally encounter.
“How about five?”
“Sounds fair,” I said, unbuckling her seatbelt before undoing my own. “Hold on,” I instructed before I slid out of the truck and walked around the hood to open her door. It had been amusing to watch her attempt to climb into the tall vehicle but I didn’t want her to fear she was going to fall on her face climbing out. Opening her door, I scooped her off the seat and carefully placed her on her feet.
“Oh, um, thanks,” she said, her eyes darting around.
“You’re welcome.” I ignored the fact that her head was doing that swivel thing again as if expecting to see every eye on her. She might be breaking too many rules to name, but I had to give her credit for attempting to stay hidden in the shadows. I hated to pop her little bubble of false security, but even if she were wearing a burlap sack and flip-flops, I was willing to wager every head would turn to stare the instant she took off that coat. There was a glow about her that practically demanded one stare. Maybe takeout would have been a better choice. Another loud rumble and the sight of her hand going to press against her stomach immediately had me ditching that idea. “Here, I think you’d be more comfortable in this,” I said, unzipping my jacket and shrugging it off.
“Don’t you need it?”
“No, I’ll be fine. But I wouldn’t want to see that dress ruined by barbecue sauce.” Before she could think of a protest, I had untied the belt of the coat and pushed it off a shoulder. She decided not to argue and let me help her pull her arms out and toss it on the seat before closing the door. I held the jacket as she slid her arms into the sleeves. We both looked down at the cuffs where her hands should have appeared. Not even the tips of her fingers were visible. “Well, so much for that idea,” I said.
“It’s fine,” she assured me, sticking her arms straight out in front of her. When I just stared, she moved her arms up and down which caused the excess cloth to flap. “Come on. Aren’t cowboys supposed to be experts on how to roll up hay and ropes?”
Good grief, if she didn’t stop waving flags in front of this bull, she was going to discover exactly how even a pretend cowboy could demonstrate how good a roll could be in the hay… in the back seat of a truck… or even against the exterior of a hole-in-the-wall barbecue joint.
“Bossy much?” I asked, forcing myself to roll up a sleeve rather than ripping the jacket off her body. By the time I’d done both sleeves, the cuffs were in the bend of her elbows, the excess fabric blooming above them.
“With those biceps, you could probably take on Popeye,” I teased as she looked from one arm to the other.
“Not if any contest involved spinach. What a revolting veggie. It’s right up there with Brussels sprouts.”
“Not a fan of greens?”
“Nope, but I am a huge fan of whatever is making that delicious smell. I feel like I could eat the air!”
I threw back my head and laughed. She was just too cute. “That, darling, is the aroma of the best barbeque you’ll ever put in your mouth.”
Slipping her hand into mine, she tugged on it. “Then let’s go. I’m starving, but fair warning, I can be a bit of a messy eater when I’m this hungry. I apologize in advance if I spill something on your jacket.”
