Hearts and Arrows

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Hearts and Arrows Page 7

by David G. Pearce


  Well, she’d wanted unromantic, right? If she hated Noah’s plans, it’d be her fault. She locked the apartment door and took the elevator to the lobby. As she exited the building, a bad boy idling on a beauty of a motorcycle grabbed her attention. Well-worn jeans encased his powerful thighs, and a black leather jacket and boots completed the ass-kicker look.

  She stopped at the top of the steps leading to the parking lot and studied the work of art before her. Strong hands gripped the sides of his helmet and slowly pulled it off. The anticipation was killing her. Squeezing her thighs together, she willed him to go faster, willed his face to be as attractive as the rest of him.

  Dark brown curls popped out first, then a shadowed jaw, a straight nose, and… Oh. My. God. Her knees buckled and she plopped down on the steps.

  Noah’s smile collapsed. “Cassie!”

  Seeing him hurry to turn the bike off and kick out the stand, she held up a hand to stop him. “I’m okay. Just slipped on something.”

  “You sure?”

  She nodded and pushed to her feet. How was this possible? Until he’d removed the helmet, she hadn’t recognized Noah at all. Had he always been so hot? Surely, he hadn’t undergone some miraculous transformation overnight. She continued to check him out as she carefully made her way down the stairs. The glasses were gone, which helped a lot. He did have the most spectacular lashes, and now that she could see his eyes, they weren’t just dark brown; they were a rich mocha, warming her like hot chocolate on a cold day.

  Had she hit her head when she’d fallen? Because something was seriously off here.

  Noah held his hand out as she approached. He gently pulled her to the side of the bike and leaned forward. Was he going to kiss her? Maybe she needed to remind him of their agreement.

  But Noah didn’t kiss her. Instead, he slid a helmet over her head, then bopped the top of it. “There. Now hop on. I’ve got a full day planned.” When she hesitated, he cocked a brow. “Scared?”

  She was scared all right, but not of the bike. In fact, she’d wanted to buy a motorcycle last year, but Drew had convinced her it wasn’t the right look for a marketing executive. Why had she listened to him, anyway?

  On the other hand, she was worried about having to hold onto Noah during this adventure, given her body’s new-found attraction to the man. He’s the same Noah he’s always been. She swallowed her nerves and threw her leg over the seat, sliding behind Noah. Her hands snaked around his waist, her touch feather-light. He jerked her against his back and patted her hands. “Like that.”

  Oh boy, did she like that. Her hands pressed against marble-hard abs that he’d kept well concealed beneath those loose gamer T-shirts he always wore to work. When had Noah started working out?

  Before her thoughts could wander too far, he let the bike roll forward and revved the engine. “Where’re we going?” she shouted above the noise of the motor.

  “You’ll see,” he said, turning onto the main road.

  Fishing might not be so bad after all. Especially if he got hot and removed his shirt.

  Noah watched as the Miramar track staffer adjusted the seat and pedals of Cassie’s kart and gave her the safety briefing. She leaned in close to the man and whispered something to him. He laughed, threw Noah a look, then whispered back. A prickle of unease danced up Noah’s spine. He knew that look, and it spelled disaster for him. Cassie clearly had a trick up her sleeve.

  Shaking off his concern, he returned her smile. “Ready?”

  “Oh yeah.” She adjusted the strap on her helmet.

  They settled into their respective karts, along with the other racers, and waited for the signal from the track manager. As soon as it came, Noah took off. This was his chance to show Cassie he was more than just a GameHard computer nerd. Shooting down the straightaway, he maneuvered around the other competitors and took the first of the three hairpin curves. Two guys beside him took the turn with too much speed and bounced off the wall. His gut compacted into a ball. Would Cassie know to slow down?

  He shot a glance over his shoulder and almost lost control of his kart. Not only had she taken the turn expertly, she was hot on his tail. His grip on the wheel tightened. If she whipped his butt, her opinion of him would be cemented, and he’d never get out of the friend zone. No worries. She was about to eat his fumes.

  Slamming his foot on the accelerator, he pushed the kart to its full forty mph, easily taking the curves. But another hairpin turn was coming up, followed by the final straightaway before the end of the track.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cassie gaining on him. His heart skipped as disbelief stiffened his muscles. Who was this woman? A Formula One driver? Her posture, the grip she had on the wheel, the unwavering focus on her face, everything shouted her determination to win.

  They took the hairpin in tandem, and as they embarked on the final straightaway, Cassie edged ahead. His kart had a little more juice left in it since he’d slowed down for the curve. If he floored it now, he’d beat her.

  A gentleman would let her win.

  Shit. She might not believe in Valentine’s Day and chivalry, but he did. He kept pace with her, sweat breaking out across his forehead as he crossed the finish line milliseconds behind her. His chances with her had gone from minimal to down the fucking toilet.

  But Cassie’s face when she ripped off the helmet and turned to him, a joyous smile lighting her beautiful features, made it all worthwhile.

  Cassie found an empty table alongside the track and perched herself on the high stool. Beating poor Noah in the race had been so much fun. The speed, the sharp turns, the long straight expanses, the power of all that machinery had thrilled her like nothing else. Growing up, her parents had often brought her and her brothers to race tracks like this one. The sights, the smells, simply being here brought back many happy memories. Memories to replace the bad ones from last Valentine’s Day. Noah couldn’t have planned things better had he known.

  She watched him weave through the crowd, his hands full of deli sandwiches, chips, and drinks. He really was a nice guy. For a nerd. Although, she had to admit, he didn’t look so nerdy today. Her stomach did an odd little flip and she pressed a hand to it. Was she coming down with something?

  Noah set their lunch on the table. “I hope you like turkey. That’s all they had left.”

  “Turkey’s fine.” She unwrapped her sandwich, then met his gaze. “Thanks for thinking of this. I’m having a great time.”

  He squinted at her, as though searching her face. “You sure? Most girls don’t like go-karting.”

  “Well, I’m not most girls. If you thought I wouldn’t like it, why’d you bring me here?”

  He lifted a shoulder in a cute little shrug. “I figured it was as far from wining and dining as I could get.”

  She laughed at the wry expression on his face. “This is so much better. And at least I can be sure you won’t end up boinking the waitress in a backroom while I sit here waiting for you.”

  His eyes widened. “Wow. That happened?”

  “Yeah,” she said, turning to watch the karts tear by on the track. Why the heck had she brought it up? “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He tugged on her chin until their gazes met. “Whoever he was, he didn’t deserve you.”

  Her throat tightened, and her eyes burned. Noah was right. Drew hadn’t deserved her, but the hurt remained. Not that her relationship with Drew merited a year of mourning. He’d been an ass, and only her bruised pride was keeping the hurt alive. She had to let it go.

  A sip of her drink helped unclamp her constricted throat. “You’re right. I’ve been moping long enough. It’s time to move on. Besides, there are a lot of more worthy men in the world. I just have to start looking for one.”

  Noah continued to stare at her, his expression arrested. Feeling uncomfortable, she smiled and bit into her sandwich. He seemed to shake off whatever thoughts he’d been stuck on and smiled back. “I’m glad to hear that. You’re a great g
irl. Someone special will come along soon.”

  “From your mouth to God’s ears,” she said.

  He tipped his head back and mouthed something. Something that looked suspiciously like “Please.”

  Her back pressed against the trunk of a tree, Cassie gripped the Tippmann 98 Custom Marker and tried to catch her breath.

  Worried that she’d be injured, Noah had decked her out like a bomb defuser. Between the chest protector, long-sleeved blue jersey, camo pants, gloves, two-pouch harness to carry extra ammunition, and goggles—which was really a euphemism for a leatherized helmet with full face mask and visor—she was melting. A drop of sweat trailed down her spine, making her shiver.

  Had he dropped her in the middle of a war zone? Almost. She gasped as a paintball splattered against the trunk of a tree two feet from her. Dropping to a crouch, she beelined for the overturned wooden spool, then dove the last few feet to safety as more balls whizzed above her head.

  When the bombardment died down, she eased around the edge of the spool and spied Noah belly-crawling in the direction of a large boulder. Thought he could hide from her, did he? Ha! She loaded the hopper, raised the marker, sighted down the long barrel, and pulled the trigger.

  Pfft splat!

  Bright blue exploded on Noah’s thigh, blanketing the vegetation beneath him. She’d won again. Although she tried to be humble, a grin spread across her face, broadening when he raised his fist and slammed it against the ground.

  Okay, so he was a little pissed. That was new. At GameHard, Noah was known for his ability to keep his head even while being grilled by the company’s CEO.

  He rolled over and gripped his leg. A dozen teams were on the field today, and each had a different paint color. It wouldn’t take Noah long to figure out she was the one who’d shot him. But as she watched, he continued to squirm. Why wasn’t he getting up? Had she hurt him? She crept around the edge of the spool, scoping out the clearing before she went to check on him.

  As she stepped into the clearing, twin blue balls plowed into him, creating wild patterns on the torso of his red jersey. Indignant, she looked up to see who’d shot him. The park staff had been clear—hitting a downed player wasn’t cool. Her anger boiled over when she spied the shooters, two men in blue jerseys, men from her own team.

  How dare they shoot Noah! She pulled up her marker, aimed at the honorless bastards, and fired. Satisfaction warmed her when splashes of brilliant blue paint appeared on their jerseys. The men looked at each other before swinging their gazes to Noah. Based on the paint color, they had to know he wasn’t the one who’d shot them. She ducked behind the cover of the big spool just as they turned in her direction.

  She held her breath as they scanned the area. Her team would be pissed if they discovered she’d eliminated two teammates. Whatever. They’d acted like dicks. Of course, she could claim it was an accident, that she was a terrible shot. Well, she could have claimed that if they hadn’t seen her hit the bulls-eye four out of five times during their practice round.

  When the men finally turned and left, she let out her breath in a rush and scrambled across the open field to where Noah still lay, writhing on the ground. He’d pulled off his helmet and she could see the pained grimace on his face. Worry wormed a hole in her stomach. “Noah. Oh my God. How bad are you hurt?”

  “Charlie horse,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

  A smile tugged at her lips. “You had me freaked out. I thought you’d broken something. Here, big baby, let me massage it for you.”

  After removing her own helmet, she forced him to stretch out on the ground. Then with strong movements, she kneaded his thigh. Whoa. Those were not the thin legs of a computer geek. The man had quads. Big, powerful, awesome quads. Maybe Noah was a cyclist? A lot of engineers at GameHard rode their bicycles to work. She knew because they walked around in biker shorts all day. Ewww! But given his thighs, seeing Noah in biker shorts might be a rather pleasurable experience.

  Noah made a sound in his throat, drawing her attention. “Is this helping?”

  He closed his eyes and let his head rest against the ground. “Yeah.”

  Poor guy. His voice sounded strained, like he was still in a lot of pain. She worked her hands up from his knee, pushing her fingers into the tight mass of his muscles. Suddenly, he sat up and gripped her wrist, pulling it away from his leg. “I…” He coughed and cleared his throat. “I’m fine now. Thanks.”

  Hmm... He didn’t sound fine to her. As she stared at him, a wave of color darkened his neck, his cheeks, even the tips of his ears. Was he embarrassed that she’d helped him? Almost of its own volition, her hand lifted to cup his cheek, his short whiskers rasping against her palm. “Are you mad at me? I wouldn’t have shot you if I’d known it would hurt so much.”

  He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. “I could never be mad at you. Besides, you make a damn fine nurse.”

  Now it was her turn to blush. Noah had a way of teasing her, of drawing her out of a funk, of making her smile even when it was the last thing she felt like doing. Someday, some lucky woman would catch his eye and he’d make her happy for the rest of his life. Because that’s what Noah did.

  His fingers brushed her lips. She looked up and was shocked to see desire heating his gaze.

  Before she could react, something hit her between the shoulder blades, hard. She gasped as the impact propelled her into his arms.

  Noah jerked his head up. The assholes who’d shot him were back. They must have pretended to leave so they could circle back and catch their assailant off-guard. Great strategy. Bad fucking timing.

  “Take it off the field, lovebirds,” the men called out, raising their markers again. Noah’s breath snagged in his throat. On a surge of power, he rose up behind Cassie, shielding her. “Go! Get behind the boulder,” he shouted. She grabbed her marker and scrambled in front of him. He clenched his teeth as ball after ball pelted his back.

  Slowing down, she shot him a glance over her shoulder. “Let me shoot back.”

  “Not yet.” Just a few more feet and she’d be safe. He pushed her butt with his hand, prodding her forward. When she disappeared around the boulder, the tension in his shoulders began to ease. He could turn around and start shooting, but Cassie had already eliminated the men. Shooting at them again wouldn’t make them go away; these guys were out for revenge.

  As he neared the shelter of the boulder, a ball smacked him in the back of the head. He closed his eyes against the pain radiating through his skull. Fuck, that hurt. Served him right for taking off his helmet. He stumbled and lurched around the rock, slamming into Cassie as she prepared to cover him. They fell to the ground in a heap.

  With his face buried in her neck, he lay on top of her motionless. His heart pounded, and he was certain she had to feel it despite her layers of protective clothing. After a moment she stirred and gently pushed on his shoulders. “Hey, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he grumbled, rising up on his forearms. “Those jerks tagged me in the back of the head.”

  Her eyes clouded with concern and with tentative strokes, her fingers probed the back of his head. “You’ve already got a bump.”

  And the beginnings of a massive headache. Why had he brought her here again? Oh right. To show her what a man’s man he was. Yep. He’d shown her all right. Big baby.

  Her eyes twinkled and she laughed as paint dripped off his head and splashed her cheeks. She wiped her mouth, leaving smears of color on her face, then reached up and tugged on a strand of his hair. “I kind of like this.”

  His eyes narrowed. What was she talking about? Maybe the hit to the head had rattled his brain. “Like what?” he asked, his tone more gruff than he’d intended.

  “The blue hair. It’s rather Adam Lambert. Looks good on you.”

  Had she really just compared him to Adam Lambert? Damn it, she did think he was gay. We’ll he’d have to change that, wouldn’t he?

  Before Cassie knew what was ha
ppening, Noah’s fingers cupped her nape and he drew her to him. His lips feathered against hers, teasing her with their softness. Her hand closed on his arm to push him away. But his bicep bulged in her palm and... Oh wow. A tingle shot through her, something she hadn’t felt in over a year.

  Noah tightened his grip in her hair and changed the angle of the kiss. His tongue stroked the seam of her lips until she moaned and opened up for him. Sliding in, his tongue danced around hers, stimulating, titillating. Arousing.

  What were they doing? Noah was a friend. One she planned on keeping.

  She brought her hands to his chest and shoved. Noah groaned and released her, rolling onto his back. “I’m sorry, Cassie. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Then why did you?” Despite her earlier guilt over shooting him, anger peppered her voice. She sat up and peered down at him. “Did you fake a charlie horse in the hopes that after getting your thigh massaged, you’d get a happy ending to go along with it?”

  “Cassie.”

  “No. Seriously, was this whole day just a ruse to get me in your bed?”

  He pulled himself up and reached out to take her arm, but dropped his hand before touching her. “You’ve got to believe me, getting you in bed has never been the point. I care about you, you know that. I wanted to make this day good for you, so you’d forget about any bad things that happened before. At least for a while.”

  “That’s bullshit. If you wanted me to forget, you’d have stuck to our bargain. No romance.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You didn’t answer my question, if it wasn’t to get me in bed, why did you kiss me?”

  “Well….’ He trailed off, clambering to his feet.

  “Well what?”

  “Ah, hell.” Clearly flustered by her question, he raked his hands through his paint-drenched hair and blew out a breath. “You looked all cute and worried. It was just one of those things, you know? Forget about it.”

 

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