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She straightened her shoulders. “Well, maybe the one hundred bucks will be justified. Listen, I need for you to talk to me for a few minutes and act like you’re interested in me,” she said, glanced around, then her attention returned to him.
He angled closer. Was she for real? “Shouldn’t this happen organically?” he asked in a casual voice. Though the place looked decent, crazies were everywhere and last thing he needed was a stalker.
She reached for his elbow, but not sexually. She rested her hand there and didn’t move her fingers as if she wasn’t sure what to do next. “No. See, my friend dared me to come over here and say hi. She means well but meddles a lot. Anyway, all you have to do is talk to me for a little bit.”
“Then what?”
She removed her hand from his arm, abruptly. “Then we walk out of each other’s lives. But guess what? I’ll tell her we’re still dating for three, maybe four times, and during that time she’ll babysit my kids. Which means I’ll take up a class, or get a massage, or catch up with old college friends. I can volunteer at a cat shelter,” she said, touching her chest and sighing. “The world is my oyster.”
He slanted a look to his side to make sure there were no cameras around. They made reality shows out of everything these days, and this woman provided serious entertainment. “What’s in it for me?”
“You pay it forward and go to bed with a good conscience.”
He’d rather go to bed with a bad girl, but she wasn’t it. Still. A part of him throbbed. Something about her piqued his interest, like a new song that kept ringing in his ears. “Wouldn’t this be easier if you came up to me and talked for a few minutes?”
She shot him a glance over the brim of her glass. “No, because they could sense from where they’re sitting that you aren’t into me, which means they’ll sign me up on some desperate matchmaking app and my babysitting is off the table.”
He frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be into you?”
“It seems like I’m not your type.”
Did she know who he was? That he’d started a vending machine business from the ground up and made his own fortune, despite his father’s criticism? He’d given some interviews to specialized business publications. What if she read them and fooled him with this charade? Curiosity stabbed at him. “How do you know who’s my type?”
“Well, I’m usually the girl guys want to take home to introduce to their parents, not necessarily throw over the table and—”
He leaned closer, catching a whiff of her feminine scent of warm vanilla and wildflowers. Images of him throwing her over a table, bunching her dress over her waist and then fucking her quick and rough populated his thoughts. Blood rushed in his ears, and his pants felt tighter. “And?”
She threaded her fingers together. “You know.” She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. “Anyway, I haven’t seen you in Splurge before. New in town?”
“Yeah. Came here for work.”
“Must be something fancy to be able to afford these expensive drinks.”
He lifted his tumbler and stared at the amber contents. Mentioning the vending machine empire was out of question—why would he? If she somehow knew about it, the information would mean nothing. Besides, a chance at repairing his relationship with his father brought him to Tulip. Not money. Though he’d work to represent his father’s affairs, he didn’t need a cent from him. “You could say that.”
She fished out her phone from her purse and glanced at it. “Just so you know, we’re doing great with time. A few more minutes and this will really work.”
“I don’t remember the last time a woman checked her phone so eagerly when she was with me,” he said out loud. A second later, regret poured over him. Was her insecurity contagious? He shook his head to himself. Nah. He cleared his throat and stared deep into her eyes.
She shuffled on her stool, meeting his gaze for a serious moment, then her expression softened. “Oh. You’re a bit cocky, aren’t you?”
He shrugged. “Just honest.”
She chewed her lower lip. “I didn’t mean to be rude. Sorry.”
He took another gulp, the liquid rolling smoothly down his throat and leaving traces of a smoky aftertaste. “What’s your name, paranoid lady?”
“I’m Nikki.”
Nikki. Short and sweet. Suited her. “Nice to meet you, Nikki. I’m Cole.”
She stretched out her hand as if they were on a fucking business meeting, but he used the opportunity to pull her closer. He deposited a kiss slightly above the corner of her mouth, slowly, and a wave of heat passed between them, warming his skin. Her flesh was soft, smooth, and addictive. He wanted to kiss her in other places, in all places, and a sinful image of this Nikki woman in the middle of his hotel bed popped up in his mind.
When he sat up straight, a rush of lust zapped through his body. He stroked her chin, and the shade of pink spreading over her cheeks confirmed she wanted him too. Her pupils dilated, making her brown eyes even more alluring. Then, she shifted in her seat, glancing around them.
“I should get going, Cole. Thanks for the chat.” She motioned to open her purse, but he lifted his hand in denial, and gestured for the barman to bring the check.
She took her credit card from her wallet, but he touched her wrist to stop her from paying. “Allow me.”
