Page 96 of The Keeper


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“What do you think of Vegas so far?”

He lifts a shoulder. “So far so good. I haven’t seen much of it, though I like what I see so far.”

The comment comes along with a look that tells me he is not talking about the city, not at all. It makes me very, very uncomfortable between the legs. He seems to be eating up the sight of my squirming, the tiniest smirk playing at his lips as I squeeze my crossed legs together to stop the heated desire that pools there. Is it hot in here? Christ, I need a glass of water. And a cold pool to jump in.

“So I’m wondering if you’d be up for a challenge,” he says.

“Oh?”

“I’m thinking we could try talking about anything other than our jobs or old relationships.”

“I suppose we could give it a try. Though I do work a lot, so it might be hard.”

“I’ll bet you’re much more than your job. You start. Ask me anything.”

I look at him through narrowed eyes as I think of a question. “What kind of music do you like?”

He sits back on his bar stool, glass of whisky in his hand. “I like lots of different types of music, honestly. I listen to rock music to pump myself up. I like country music when I’m having my feels. Rap music is fun when I’m driving. I hate musicals, though. Hope that’s not a deal breaker?”

“No, it’s not. I love theater and I love dance and I love music but put them all together and I suddenly want to throw myself in front of a speeding train.”

“My kind of woman,” he says, that grin killing me all over again. “My turn. What is your favorite vegetable, and which one turns your stomach?”

“Well, I love to cook, so I’m not that picky, honestly. I love transforming greens into something unique, so I guess they’re my favorite? They don’t turn my stomach but I’m not a huge fan of mushrooms. If prepared right, I can tolerate them, but I don’t relish the idea of eating fungus.”

“Fair enough. Also not a fan of the mushrooms,” he says.

“Okay…are you a dog or a cat person?”

“Umm, both? I like animals. I don’t have any pets but I’ve thought about getting one recently. I’d probably get a cat because they seem more independent. I’ve always traveled a lot, and I feel like that wouldn’t be fair to a dog, but a cat wouldn’t care.”

“I can see that. Your turn.”

“Have you ever traveled abroad? What was your favorite place?”

“I have,” I say. I almost say that my ex-husband did some international basketball trips but then stop myself, since talking about exes is off the table for this particular conversation. I take a sip of my drink and add, “I loved Italy. It was a really beautiful country. The people are warm and passionate. The food is amazing. I think I gained ten pounds while I was there.”

He points to my glass with a questioning look and I nod. “Maybe one more?”

Once our second round of drinks arrives, we resume our back-and forth.

“Your turn,” he prompts.

“Ummm…Mac or PC?”

He laughs and I nearly lose it. His laugh is deep and sexy and it rumbles straight to my lower belly. I cannot with this guy, seriously. He is a sexy, sexy man and I want to climb onto his lap like right freaking now.

I need to be clear. I am not drunk. I ‘ve have two and half drinks and I can handle my liquor. And I date sometimes but most guys don’t hold my interest. And I don’t usually want someone in my bed like the minute I meet them. In fact, most never make it that far, even after a few dates. This guy, though? I want him, and I’m not all that conflicted about it.

“Mac,” he says, nodding. “I use an IPhone and I like having things sync up. I think I’ve forgotten how to use Windows.”

“That Apple does make a good product.”

“What is your favorite sport?” he asks.

“To play or to watch?”

“Either. Both.”

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