Page 36 of A Scoring Chance
Oliver waves as we get closer, a bright smile spreading across his rich brown skin. He’s wearing his stark white chef coat buttoned and black pants. His hair is cut into a close fade because the chance of his hair falling into anything he is cooking is unacceptable. However, that doesn’t stop him from having a neatly trimmed beard.
Oliver wastes no time gripping her free hand, pulling it to his lips and planting a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. “And who might this ravishing beauty be?”
His voice drops to the perfectly crafted deep baritone that usually gets him whatever he wants, and right now, he’s using it on Ramona.
“I-I-I…” she stutters, a tinge of pink appearing on her brown skin.
Jesus. I love this man like a brother, but right now, I would love nothing more than to break his jaw, and Oliver knows it. Nothing good could come from him having this information. Not only is he probably never going to let me live it down, but he’ll also head straight for a phone and call Beau, at the very least. At the worst, my mother. Neither of whom I want anywhere near Ramona until I figure my shit out. They’ll have too many questions that I don’t even have the answers to myself.
“Hi, I.” He winks at her, and she giggles like a schoolgirl.
I wait for Beauty to respond to him, to tell him her name, anything, but she continues to stand there, frozen in place. I resist the urge to roll my eyes and give her hand a squeeze to get her attention. Apparently, introducing her to the first African American chef to win a Michelin star renders her speechless. Good to know.
“Her name is Ramona King. Ramona, this is my friend, Ollie.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” He winks at her before releasing her hand and putting some much-needed space between them.
“Cut it out or I’m going to tell Jericho.” I groan, wrapping my arm around Beauty and pulling her into my side. Why don’t I just piss on her to mark my territory? Jesus, I don’t know what is going on with me. Everything changed the moment I laid eyes on her. The verdict is still out on whether this is a good or bad thing.The only thing I know is that I need to keep her as far away from Oliver as possible.
“Please do. It will serve him right for leaving me alone all week to go gallivanting in Rio. I’d risk his wrath for a chance to spend time with Ramona.”
“Stop flirting with my date,” I growl, unable to keep my jealousy under control.
Way to go, Hendrix. The perfect way to get a beautiful girl’s attention is to act like a damn caveman in front of someone she clearly has a thing for. The question is what kind of thing it is.
“Is this a date?” She turns toward me, her eyes narrowed slightly as she tries to make sense of what’s happening. Out of all the things she could ask me:How do you know Oliver? Is this my surprise? Where the heck are we?She asks if this is a date. Holy shit, did I get this all wrong?
“Coop. I assumed you knew the correct order of things. You first have to ask a woman on a date for it tobea date,” Ollie chuckles. There is no way I’m ever going to live this one down.
“I didn’t ask her. She asked me,” I respond triumphantly, planting a kiss on the top of her head.
Am I ashamed that she beat me to it? A little, but either way, I’m having lunch with Ramona. I consider that a win, wouldn’t you?
“I did?”
Things are not looking good for me right now. Beauty doesn’t even remember she asked me to go out with her. “Did you or did you not ask to have lunch with you, after you told me today was your birthday?”
Her head tips to the side, her eyes scanning my face as she tries to remember our conversation from earlier. It doesn’t take long before realization dawns on her face, her cheeks pinking for the second time. “Oh, I did.”
Our eyes remain locked on each other as the air crackles between us. It’s been like this ever since the first moment I laid eyes on Beauty on my way into town. This connection is insane. How can someone I just met feel so familiar? It’s as if there’s a part of me that knows her. That finally became complete the moment I laid eyes on her.
“Then that means it’s a date, my dear.” The sound of Ollie’s voice breaks the spell. “Which is a good thing because this one needs someone to show him there is more to life than ice and sticks.”
“I know there is more to life than ice and sticks,” I grumble, turning my head away in embarrassment. I always knew deep down that it was possible Beauty thought I was nothing more than a dumb jock, but I thought… I don’t know what I thought, if I’m being honest.
“Aww, did he hurt your feelings? Come here so I can kiss it all better.” Ramona giggles, pressing up on her toes and brushing her lips against mine. Every nerve ending in my body comes alive with need, wanting, no—needing to be closer to her in every way possible, but now isn’t the time or the place.
Ollie must pick up on the tension in the air before he claps me on the back before giving my shoulder a tight squeeze. “And on that note, I have a restaurant to run.” He hands me a wicker basket. “Everything you asked for is in the basket.”
“Wait. What?” Beauty freezes, her eyes shifting between the two of us, trying to process what he just said. “I get to eat your cooking, too?”
“Umm, yes?” His eyebrows pull down in confusion as I take the basket from his hands.
“This is part of your surprise. I couldn’t take you to his restaurant, but I could bring some of the best comfort food in the city to you.”
I chuckle as her eyes light with excitement, but that quickly disappears. “I told you I could’ve changed.”
She motions down her body. There was no way in hell I was letting her change. My jaw figuratively hit the ground the moment she climbed out of her tin can of a car. Those orange pants looked like they were painted on, made specifically to fit every contour of her body. Her copper-colored skin was hidden beneath an oversized sweater. I wanted to run my thumb across it and place gentle kisses along it before making my way up her neck and taking her mouth. Hence the need for us to take two cars. Well, that and the fact I wasn’t sure how I was going to contour my body to fit my six-foot-and-some-change frame into the car. I’ve tucked myself into smaller spaces than that, but just the thought of being that close in proximity to her for the entire drive to Portland was more than my self-control could handle.
