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“Family, huh?” I suck on my straw, thinking that mafia members call themselves family.
“Yes. My sister and her kids. Uh …kid.” His mouth pulls into a tight line and he turns away from me, bringing the drink to his lips.
“I’ve heard a lot of good things about the area. But I travel a lot with my job so I’d want to be close to the airport.”
“Airport’s only about an hour from here.”
I nod. I guess that’s considered close for L.A. “What about you? What do you do for work?”
“Construction. Mostly renovations for people who are getting ready to sell their homes. And I have a few side gigs. In Phoenix.” He picks at something in his teeth and I notice the tops of his hands, the veins popping out and the few cuts that are counter indicative to sitting in an office all day, chatting with children and luring them to their demise. I also get a better look at the bullseye tattoo, wondering what the story is behind that.
“Phoenix? So you don’t live here?”
With a shake of the head, he moves his eyes over my face. His brows come together, ever so slightly. “Sorry, but … have we met somewhere?”
Fear tingles over my flesh. “No,” I clip out. “And it’s a shame about you not being a local. Here I was, hoping I’d met the man of my dreams before even getting settled into my new place.” I give him a flirty smile to go with the lie and he seems to make an effort to smile back. But then he’s back to being serious again, looking away and twirling his glass in a circle.
“I’m not the man of anyone’s dreams. Let’s get that settled right out of the gate.”
Wow. Okay. He’s serious about trying to scare women away before they get too close. But I know what he’s doing: making it clear that he’s only looking for one thing.
“At least you’re honest about it.”
“I try to be straightforward about these things. You seem relatively straightforward yourself. Or you did on the dance floor.” When his gaze tilts to my chest, I’m betrayed again with a flash of heat. But that lust is quickly followed with a pinch of disgust.
I take a sip of my drink, wondering which direction to take this. Which one will get me the information I need. “I don’t know. Are you really my type, is the question.”
His eyebrows come together, as though I just offended him with my confession.
“No offense. But I tend to go for guys in business suits. In my experience, they’re better at warming a woman up and keeping her warm.” I have no clue what I’m talking about, regurgitating what I’ve heard on television and read in books.
He could get really mad at me, tell me to fuck off, that he doesn’t need to waste his time with a picky bitch like me. But surprisingly enough he seems to be contemplating what I’ve just said, studying my face with an odd flicker in his eye.
“I have a collection of suits I wear on occasion.”
“Oh really? What sort of occasion?”
“When I’m not doing construction. I spend a few days a week in my office.”
“So you’re a construction worker who spends a few days a week in an office wearing a suit? Eclectic lifestyle.”
If I told him I had a kink for clowns would he pull out a red nose?
“One hundred percent true. Was just wearing a suit yesterday in fact.”
I poke him on the leg, smirking playfully. “You should go put it on, come back here and see what happens.”
“I didn’t bring any suits with me on this trip so you’ll have to take my word for it.”
Jesus. I can’t get this guy to so much as crack a smile. I run a finger up the side of my glass, forcing water to trickle down to the table. “So, what you’re telling me is that you’re down for going down and staying there?”
His tongue brushes softly over his upper lip, and his voice is husky when he replies. “Until you beg me to stop.”
Flames lick between my legs. But before I can fully sink into a vat of molten lava, I remind myself why I’m here, and it’s not to fall for some bullshit come-on lines from a predator. Besides, how will I wriggle out of sleeping with him if that’s the message I’m sending here?
“I might let you put your money where your mouth is.”
That earns me a chuckle. He takes a sip of his club soda, sets the glass down, and the smile fades from his lips. “At the risk of sounding crass, where my mouth is and where my mouth wants to be, are …” He glances at my lap. “… several feet apart right now.”
