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“Game on,” he said with a smirk that made her uneasy.
She had the feeling she’d just poked the bear.
Chapter Five
Tristan swallowed a smile at the flash of interest on Skye’s face before she hid it. So, she liked games. She’d gotten him good, so kudos to her. But he had two younger brothers who’d loved to terrorize him growing up. He had a bag full of tricks thanks to them, and he would pay her back. Not right away, though. She needed to stew a bit, wondering what he might do to retaliate.
He flashed his light on the ten-foot-tall green replica of an alien at the entrance. The damn thing had scared the bejesus out of him as a kid. “No one could agree back then if this guy here was Luther’s father’s taxidermic body. Some said it was, but those were mostly the people employed by the Mackels.”
She leaned toward the spaceman, shining her flashlight over it, stopping the light on his groin. “Can a plaster man even get his dick up enough to beget a child?”
Tristan snorted a laugh. “If so, it would be something of a miracle.” As they went from display to display—moon rocks, precious metals from other planets, pictures of spaceships, and other ridiculous space items—he found himself laughing at her opinions of everything.
“That’s pretty much it,” he said when they’d circled the room.
She shined her flashlight around. “This place is so hokey that it’s hilarious. I’d pay at least five dollars to come here for the laughs if nothing else. What’s that in the back there?”
“That’s where they sold outer space ice cream and moon rock candy.”
“Did you have any?”
“Absolutely. The ice cream was green and mint flavored, and the candy looked like ice crystals. I don’t remember what it tasted like.” She was actually being nice to him, and he’d enjoyed the past hour with her. He wasn’t ready to take her back home. “Now I have a craving for ice cream. What say you that we make a stop at the Purple Cow?”
After a hesitation that stretched long enough for him to believe she was going to refuse, she shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
“Your excitement overwhelms me.”
She rolled her eyes. “You need to calm down, Tristan. Obviously, you’re too easy to excite.”
“I’ll do my best, but ice cream, you know. Exhilarating stuff.” It was the first time she’d said his name in a year, and he considered it a victory. A small one, but one all the same.
“You’re not wearing all black,” she said on the way to the Purple Cow. “Why did I have to?”
“I wanted to see if I could get you to do it.” He laughed when she poked him. She was sexy in those black jeans that hugged her hips and legs, and the black sweater with a V-neck that showed just enough cleavage to make a man want to see more. Instead of her usual bun, her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. He’d only seen it down once, and that had been the night he’d met her. He wanted to see that again, run his hands through those long silky strands, have it form a curtain around them while she was riding him and had her mouth on his. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“Then that counts as getting me back.”
“Oh, no, Sheriff. Not even close.” He parked at the Purple Cow, then glanced at her as he opened his door. “When you least expect it.”
She met him at the front of his car. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Chief.”
“Hmm.” He leaned his mouth close to her ear, intending to remind her how capable he was of finishing and she damn well knew it, but thought better of it. She’d been relaxed and fun tonight. A reminder of their night together would send her right back to shutting him out. “Sounds like a challenge,” he said instead.
“Take it however you want.”
Didn’t he wish. Just thinking of taking her however he wanted had him aroused, but it was not the time or place, so he turned his attention to deciding what flavor ice cream he wanted. Deciding to go with the theme of the night, he asked for two scoops of the mint.
“For you, ma’am?” the teenage girl behind the counter asked.
“I’ll have a scoop of bubble gum, one of red velvet cake, and a scoop of the coffee and doughnuts. Fudge sauce and whipped cream on top. Oh, and throw a few cherries on it, please.”
He stared at her.
Her brows shot up. “What?”
“You’re a very interesting woman, Skye Morgan.” If asked, he would have pegged her for something plain like chocolate or vanilla. The woman had depths he wanted to peel away, layer by tantalizing layer.
“Nothing interesting about me.”
