Quickly stowing his computer in his bag and walking across Main Street, he touched her arm as she was bending over to unlock the bike.
“Whoa!” Summer jumped to her feet and faced him. “Hey. It’s you.” She smiled at him. It was a good smile, made her even more beautiful. “Did you find your honey-blonde hottie to go to lunch with?”
“Nope.” He smiled. “Ate all by my lonesome, sadly.”
“That is pathetically sad. Better luck with dinner.” She wrapped the lock around the handlebars and clicked it.
“Does that mean you’ll go with me?”
Summer arched back her head and shaded her eyes with her hand. Was it his imagination, or did she look like she wanted to say yes? “Naw. I have a strict no-dating-people-who-carry-around-laptops policy.”
He pointed to the large leather purse slung over her shoulder. “You’re carrying a laptop.”
“And I’m not dating myself, am I?”
Chance laughed. He appreciated her smart-aleck attitude. “Who do I talk to if I want a written version of your policy? I’m sure I can find a loophole.”
She considered him for a minute. “Sorry. The policy states that it can’t be given out to anyone wearing a pressed shirt.”
He smiled. “How about I pick up takeout, we go to my house, and I’ll change my shirt?” But he could tell she didn’t like the idea the second the words were out.
“Way too forward, lawyer boy. I still have Mace on me, even if I’m not running alone on a trail.” She winked at him, and his entire body warmed.
“Okay, going back to my house is a bad idea.”
“Bad reveal on your part.” She started pushing the bike down the sidewalk, and he followed. “Now I know you’re desperate for company and you’re an over-the-top Richie. Most people would have a hotel room or maybe rent a condo for vacation. Not an entire house. It’s too much. Especially for a single guy who can’t get a date.” She grinned at him.
Chance couldn’t help but smile back, even though he didn’t like her assumptions. “Something’s wrong with having money?”
She glanced at him again, but then was distracted as they walked around an older couple. “I guess it depends what you do with that money.”
“Spend it on you?” He was a bit rusty at the flirting and didn’t have the funny responses up his sleeve that she seemed to have.
“Way wrong answer.”
“Provide clothing, food, and work opportunities to refugees in Syria?” He had some worthwhile charities that he funded, and that was actually one of them.
“Hmm? I like it. Now you’re getting somewhere.”
They walked past Donita’s Cantina, and delicious smells wafted out. His sandwich from the Sunflower Deli had been on the light side for him. “Can you smell that? It’s like they’re saying, ‘Summer, you want to go to dinner with Channing Tatum’s lookalike.’”
Summer laughed. “Hey, that’s a vast improvement over ‘Come back to my place and let’s see if you are a call girl.’”
“Whoa! I never said anything like that. I’ll have you know I’m a good Christian boy.”
“Says every boy who wants a piece of my tush.”
Chance couldn’t help but laugh at that one, but the thought of any man trying to do what she was implying made him sick to his stomach. Maybe dinner wasn’t such a good idea.
Summer stopped and placed a hand on his arm. Warmth rushed through him. “You okay?” she said. “Your face just went white.”
“I don’t like the thought of any man trying to proposition you.”
“Including yourself?”
He held his hands up. “I promise that was not my intention. I simply wanted to get to know you better. You intrigue me, make me laugh, and you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Smooth, Judd, really smooth.”
“Was it?” Her using his last name made him smile. He hadn’t had anyone call him so many different nicknames in his life. His mom insisted on proper names and proper etiquette. He and his brother were ultra-successful, but their parents had been in the upper class before Mumford’s Sons took off, his dad training them in investment capital from the time they were teenagers. His mom was a good lady, but she liked to show their status.
Summer smiled at him, and he knew he hadn’t expressed fervently enough how drawn he was to her. He gave it one more shot. “Smooth enough you’ll come eat some chips and guacamole with me?”
She moaned, and it did funny things to his stomach. Would she make a sound like that if he kissed her good and long? His eyes darted to her shapely lips, and he had to force himself to look away. Slow down, Judd.
“Why did you have to bring up guacamole when I’m starving? That’s pretty low, mister.”
He’d take any advantage he could get. “Fresh salsa, quesadillas, fajitas, carnitas, chimichangas.”
“You had me at guacamole.”
Chance laughed at the Jerry Maguire reference. “Good to know you’re a simple girl.”
“Only where food is concerned.” She gave him a mischievous grin, and he had a hard time not swaying on his feet.
Chance took the bike from her loosened grip and pushed it onto the bike rack. She tilted her head and smiled at him, that soft-looking golden hair spilling over her toned shoulder.
“Guess I’m stopping here?” she asked.
“Yes, you are.”
She nodded. “I don’t mind a confident man, but there’s a line, you know?”
Chance wasn’t sure what that line was. He was definitely walking a tightrope with her and was in danger of falling into an abyss of honey-blonde hair and blue eyes. He wouldn’t mind falling, not at all.
Chance placed his hand on Summer’s lower back and escorted her through the open doorway and into the darkened hallway of the restaurant. Her breath shortened from the feel of those fingers—confident and warm—and she had to swallow hard. He was fun to tease and even more fun to stare at, but she needed to keep this to a casual dinner.
“Hello,” Chance said to the hostess, who was dressed all in black. Her thick black makeup washed out her pale blonde hair and blue eyes. “Table for two, please.”
The hostess held up two fingers, then pointed through the restaurant and walked away.
“Friendly, isn’t she?” Chance murmured in Summer’s ear, close enough that his lips brushed the sensitive skin of her lobe.
Summer’s breath shortened, again. Okay, maybe a casual dinner wasn’t a good idea if she couldn’t even breathe being around him. “That was the warmest reception I’ve seen,” she whispered back. “She must be a Channing Tatum fan too.”
He chuckled and slid his hand from her lower back to her waist, pulling her in close like they were a couple or something. The lean muscle of his bicep brushed along her back and his body was firm and warm. It felt good, much too good.
“Hey, buddy.” Summer stepped away and created some distance between them. “Casual dinner. No touchy-touch.”
The hostess laid down menus and muttered, “Your waitress will be here shortly.” Then she strode away.
Chance looked a little deflated by Summer’s rejection. That had probably never happened before. She smiled to herself, though she would’ve liked to keep that arm around her waist. He held her chair out. She slid in and murmured, “Thank you.” So he was a gentleman. Score one for Judd. Okay, he was scoring a lot higher than one already. She should’ve guessed a suit would be raised with good manners.
He sat, focusing on her instead of picking up the menu. “How long have you lived here?”
She bit her lip and opened her menu. “Two weeks.”
A surprised laugh burst out. “You were giving me such a hard time, like you were born and raised in the valley.”
She glanced back up. “Sorry. I always give strange men a hard time.”
“I’ve known you two days now. I can’t be considered strange anymore.”
“True, but you’re kind of fun
to tease.”
The waitress arrived with waters, a basket of chips, and a variety of salsas, then hurried off to get a mango lemonade for Chance and a Diet Coke for Summer.
“I didn’t figure you for a pop kind of girl,” Chance said.
“Why not?”
“Anyone who can run as fast as you usually would claim pop slows them down.”
“Imagine how fast I’d be if I gave up my Diet Coke addiction.” She winked. She actually didn’t drink that much of her favorite pop anymore, trying to conserve her savings until she found a real job.
The waitress reappeared with their drinks and Summer took a long sip. Ah, fizzy-sweet heaven with that distinctive Coke bite.
“Do you need any recommendations?” the waitress asked with a friendly smile that more than made up for the hostess’s cold reception.
Chance looked to Summer.
“I’m going to have the chimichangas,” she said.
“Oh, you’re ready to order already?” The waitress quickly flipped a pad of paper out.
“Oh, either way.” Summer felt like she’d been too pushy and now she just felt awkward as she tried to explain. “I, um, it’s just that I don’t need any recommendations, because I had the chimichangas last time and they were fabulous.”
The waitress smiled. “Great. Chicken or beef?”
“Chicken, please. And the black beans, and lots of guacamole.”
“Got it.” She turned to Chance, who was grinning at Summer.
“What?” Summer asked, defensively brushing her hair back over her shoulder.
“I’ve never seen you disconcerted.”
“You’ve known me a total of fifteen minutes.”
Chance chuckled. Summer had to focus on the waitress to avoid scooting her chair closer to his.
Chance turned to the waitress also. “I’ll try whatever you recommend.”
“Hmm?” The waitress appraised him. “I like this guy. Can you handle spicy?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The waitress laughed and took their menus. “Chili relleno with extra jalapeños it is.” She walked away.
“You eat all those jalapeños and I’m not kissing you.” Summer gasped. “I mean …” Chance had focused those blue-green eyes on her and Summer literally lost her mind. At least that was her excuse.
He laughed and stood.
“Where are you going?” Summer stuttered, her face blazing hot.
“To chase down that waitress and tell her to forget the extra jalapeños. I’ll change to a cheese quesadilla if necessary.”
“Sit down.” Summer grabbed his hand and tugged on it.
He willingly sat down, grinning at her and wrapping his fingers around her hand. “I didn’t think I’d known you long enough to hold hands and talk about kissing, but I won’t complain.”
Summer wrenched her hand free and took a long drink of her Diet Coke, hoping it would calm down the heat in her face. Chance still hadn’t wiped the smirk off his face. That dimple just wasn’t fair. How was a girl supposed to deal with that?
He took a chip and dipped it in the salsa. “Is salsa okay, or is that going to ruin my chance for a kiss too?”
“Stop.” Summer shook her head and laughed. “You were all looking at me, like, too deeply, and it just slipped out. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize to me. This is a big step from you pulling Mace on me two days ago and telling me a few minutes ago, ‘No touchy-touch.’”
“Sorry.” She shook her head and took a chip too, breaking it in half and scooping up some salsa. “A girl has to be cautious.”
“When she’s as gorgeous as you, I’m sure she does.”
Summer got caught up in his gaze and forgot she even had a chip in her hand. Salsa dripped over the side, running off her finger and onto the white tablecloth. “Oh. Oops.” She popped the chip in her mouth and wiped her finger on her napkin. What was it about this man that had her acting like a complete dork? The spicy salsa couldn’t be blamed for all the warmth in her face. “So, Mr. Judd. You’re here in town for vacation and you’re a lawyer. Where do you normally practice law?”
“Have we established that I am undeniably a lawyer?”
“You’ve just got that look.”
“Aha.” He loaded another chip with salsa. “Pegged by the look. What was it you called me, ‘a suit’?”
“Well, if you’ve got the look, you have to own up to it. But you’re dodging the question. Where do you hang your lawyer hat, Judd?”
“Charlotte.”
“North Carolina? Hmm. That’s why you talk all smooth and relaxed.”
“I talk smooth and relaxed?”
He had no idea how smooth he talked. She grabbed another chip to not have to answer.
“What about you? You said you’ve only been here two weeks. Where did you move from?”
“I’m a wanderer. No home to speak of.”
“Interesting.” His eyes revealed he was interested, and she liked that a lot.
“You say interesting like it’s a bad thing,” she shot back.
“No. No. It’s just … interesting.”
Summer cocked an eyebrow at him.
He cleared his throat. “Where is your favorite place to … wander?”
“Anywhere warm, really.” She sighed. It seemed like so long ago since she’d traveled with Taylor, though it’d only been a month. Like all her adventures were a happy dream she may never experience again. But that was dramatic thinking, and one thing Summer couldn’t be accused of was being dramatic. “Have you been to Costa Rica?”
He shook his head.
“You’re missing out, Mr. Suit. But Crested Butte is a good place to start unwinding and forgetting that you’re all corporate and stuff. Maybe someday you can graduate to the Caribbean or Kauai.”
“I have been to both. So why is Costa Rica so much better than Kauai or one of the other Caribbean islands?”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’d never diss on Hawaii or the Caribbean, but Costa Rica is just unreal. The mountains, the forests, the beaches. Mountain biking there is to die for. They have a coastal trail from Las Catalinas that is fabulous, miles through quiet back country, views of the beach …” Her voice trailed off as she realized he was staring at her, and not the I’m enthralled by what you’re saying kind of stare. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and asked, “What?”
“‘Those who can’t run, bike’?” He arched an eyebrow. “Was that another honey-blonde beauty who said that to me?”
Her face was burning again. “I did say that.” Oh, her flapping mouth.
“I think you owe me an explanation.” He leaned back, folded his arms across his chest, and smirked.
Summer was momentarily distracted by the well-formed musculature of his biceps. She wanted to touch them and see if they felt as good as they looked. “You didn’t get those from biking.”
“Those?” His eyebrows arched up.
“Biceps,” she clarified. Her face had no chance to cool down now.
Chance laughed. “I’ve been known to lift weights on occasion.”
“‘On occasion’ meaning every day of the week?”
He smiled and shook his head. “Though I appreciate the compliment, you’re evading my question. If you like to mountain bike so much, why don’t you do it?”
Summer’s hackles rose. “You could never understand my situation, Mr. Wealthy Pants, so don’t even try.”
The waitress approached their table with steaming plates of food. Summer took a sip of her Diet Coke, allowing Chance to thank the waitress. She cut a bite of the chimichanga and shoved it in. It burned the roof of her mouth. “Hot!” she gasped out, sucking in some air and taking a gulp of water with a mouth still full of food.
Chance regarded her like she was a bit off. He had every right to. She’d just chewed him out for being rich and not understanding, then she ate like she was a hick from Idaho or something. Chance hadn’t touched his food. He stared at her and waited unt
il she swallowed the bite before asking, “Can you please help me understand why you don’t mountain bike?”
Summer studied her chimichanga and the lovely pile of guacamole next to it. Her throat filled with emotion, and she swallowed hard. She was not doing the pity party in front of Chance. Taking a long breath, she forced out the words, “I can’t afford it anymore, okay?” She looked up at him and hoped her mask of indifference was in place. “It’s fine. Running is great. I still get to be out in nature.” She took a chip and dipped it into the guacamole, shoving too large of a bite into her mouth. Her throat was still clogged with tears and she couldn’t even figure out why she was being such a baby in front of Chance. She couldn’t even enjoy the guacamole.
Chance was still staring at her. “I’m sorry, Summer,” he finally said.
“No. Don’t do that to me. I don’t want your pity.” She cleared her throat and was finally back in control of herself.
He nodded. “I understand. Do you want to tell me about it?”
She shrugged and cut away a smaller bite of her chimichanga, waiting for it to cool before plunging it into her mouth. It was really good now that she took the time to chew—warm cheese, spicy chicken, and some kind of creamy sauce that she fell instantly in love with. “Please, eat,” she said to Chance.
He gave her a partial smile and took a bite of his chili relleno. He chewed slowly and then said, “That’s got a good kick.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes. Summer actually enjoyed the food and the quiet. She liked that they could just eat and not have to fill it with empty chatter.
Her chimichanga was about halfway gone and the guacamole was history when he asked again, “Will you tell me about it, Summer?”
She shrugged and twisted her cloth napkin between her fingers. “It’s not that big of a deal.” She looked down because it was a huge deal to her. “I’m a toy designer.”
Chance looked at her approvingly. “Now that fits you much better than working at a home décor store.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “I love creating new toys. My dad owned an independent toy company. I started playing around with designing when I was young, like nine or ten.”
The Daring One: A Billionaire Bride Pact Romance Page 3
