“Yep. That’s my reward when he wins.”
“What are you going to do with your freedom?” Why does that word make JT grin like a scruffy-looking nerf-herder?
The rebel princess between them snarled at JT. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“I have.” The scoundrel caressed her elbow.
Claire snatched her arm away and stood up. “Excuse me, gentleman, I need to go to the ladies’ room.”
Kurt scooted his chair back to let her out.
JT stood—a little too close. “Come back.”
“I might.” She shot him a pointed glare and walked down the hall while JT gawked at her skirt swaying beneath her firm backside. Kurt would’ve done the same thing, but much more discreetly.
JT swung around and grinned. “So Kurt, you got a girlfriend?”
“Uh….” He glanced in the direction Claire had taken. “Not right now. I….” Could he tell a complete stranger about his secret craving? Especially one who obviously wanted her too? But he didn’t need to mention her name, and maybe sharing that longing would ease the burden. He had to let it out somehow. God only knew he’d never tell Claire. “I have a thing for this girl… but she doesn’t know.”
The curious stranger chugged his beer. “Why not?”
Kurt shook his head. “She’s way out of my league.” Who am I kidding? They didn’t even play the same sport.
“Who cares?”
“I do. If I told her, and she didn’t… if she doesn’t feel the same….” He choked on the lump in his throat.
JT set his empty glass on the table. “But what if she does? She might be waiting and hoping for you to make the first move. You’ll never know if you don’t take that chance.”
Take a chance? Never. Kurt lived in a world built on logic and reason. He dabbled with make-believe when he needed an escape from his cause-and-effect life, but he always counted on reality to keep him grounded. “It’s safer to hold on to my fantasy.”
JT grinned. “Fantasies don’t keep you warm at night.”
Kurt’s face flushed hot, and he coughed into his Coke.
“Okay, some do, but that gets old real quick.” He glanced at his watch as if to demonstrate.
Kurt had stretched his imagination to its limit. How much longer could he wish for her? “Would you tell her?”
“Absolutely.”
No hesitation. How could he jump in without considering all the possible outcomes? “Even if you knew there’s a good probability she’d say no and never speak to you again?” Kurt persisted.
JT shifted in his chair. His feet shuffled under the table, and he gritted his teeth. “Yes. Then you can stop wasting your time hoping for a relationship she never wanted, and move on with your life.”
Ouch. “No.” Kurt shook his head. “I’d rather hold on to my blissful ignorance.”
“Wow. This girl’s got you by the imaginary balls. Is she worth it?”
The woman who held the chain around his heart reappeared, smiling as she approached. Kurt’s conviction held firm. Worth every agonizing moment.
“You tell me. She’s right there.”
***
JT turned and followed Kurt’s dopey gaze. Whoa shit, Claire? He swallowed a laugh as Kurt adjusted his glasses and then his pants. The computer geek presented little competition in the area of physical appearance, but his over-the-top devotion could put him in the running if Claire knew about it.
She strolled across the room, taking her time getting back to their table. Her hands rested on the small of her back, casually clasped together while she gazed at the posters and memorabilia littering the walls. Still putting on a show, unwilling to risk revealing her association with a recently dismissed juror. But her fingers twitched and her breast heaved as she moved closer.
“Yeah, she’s worth it.” JT turned back to his mesmerized companion. “Don’t tell her just yet. Let’s have some fun with this.”
“What do you mean?” He tore his gaze away from the paralegal and frowned at JT.
“A friendly challenge.” He nodded toward an empty pool table in the corner. “If I win, I ask her out. If you win, you ask her out. Simple.”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t play?”
“I can play.” He turned and studied the table. “Well—I’ll figure it out. But I can’t tell Claire what I’ve been thinking about her all this time.”
“You don’t have to. Just ask her out for coffee or even lunch. A small risk, but it could have a big payoff.”
Kurt chewed his lips while Claire reclaimed her seat between them. “What have you two been talking about?”
“Pool.” JT put his plan into action before Kurt could change the game. He stood and clapped the bumbling nerd on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”
Then he winked at Claire. “Wanna watch?”
“You’re not going to let me play?”
“Mmm….” The three of them playing together would make things interesting. “Next time. This game is for the men.” He grunted like a caveman and Claire laughed.
Kurt stuffed the last of his grilled cheese into his mouth and washed it with down with a Coke. “How do we decide who goes first?” He scrambled after Claire.
JT grabbed a couple of cue sticks off the rack on the wall and handed one to his opponent. “We’ll flip for it.” He stuffed his hand in his pocket and pulled out a quarter. “Heads, I win. Tails, you lose.”
Kurt nodded, then blinked. “Wait a minute.”
JT laughed. “As smart as you look.” He tossed the coin in the air. “Call it.”
***
“Heads,” Kurt blurted out as the coin bounced on the green felt. It flipped on one side and wobbled before settling. “Tails, damn it.” But he breathed a silent thanks. Now he could watch JT and learn the game.
JT grinned and racked up the balls. “One game. Winner takes all.” He drew back his stick and drove the white ball into the triangle, sending balls rolling in all directions. Two of them fell into separate pockets. “I got stripes.” He lined up his next shot.
Kurt studied his every move. “So if you hit a ball in the pocket, you get to go again?”
“Yeah.” JT scratched his head. “I thought you knew how to play.”
“I’ve seen it done.”
“Aw, man. I can’t take advantage of a pool virgin.” He took the shot and missed.
“Don’t worry.” Kurt smiled and eyed the solid-colored balls, measuring angles and calculating distances. He placed his stick behind the white ball and tapped it with perfectly estimated force, sending the red three rolling directly into a corner pocket. “You won’t.”
Claire whistled from her seat in the corner. “Nice shot.”
“Are you hustling me?” JT ground his stick into a blue cube.
“What’s hustling?” He adjusted his glasses and surveyed the table. The only shot he might make required bouncing the five ball off the side and into the four, which should drop the purple ball into the side pocket. So he did.
JT flopped back against the wall next to their potential prize. “I am so screwed.”
Claire laughed. “You’ve been holding out on us, Kurt. All those times I asked if you could play, you said no.”
“I had more fun watching.” Watching her bend over the table, her long, perfect fingers braced on the felt while she slid the smooth stick between them. Stop! Now.
“So you’re a natural?” JT shook his head.
Kurt shrugged. “It’s simple geometry and physics.” The white ball rolled into an ideal position to make the next shot. “And a little bit of luck.”
“That’s my line,” JT grumbled.
“Do I keep going?” Kurt noticed his opponent pinching the bridge of his nose as if in pain.
“Uh-huh.”
“The eight ball goes in last.” Claire advised him as JT elbowed her.
“Thank you.” The five and the six disappeared, followed by the seven and the one. Only the two, the black ei
ght, and a bunch of striped balls remained. “Do you get to play again?” Kurt knew the answer, but needling the formerly cocky bastard felt damn good.
“Not until you miss.”
“I see.” And then he sank the two in the side pocket.
JT smiled and approached the table. “The rule is: you gotta hit the eight ball in the same pocket you made your last shot in.”
Is he making this up? Kurt located the black ball, sitting deserted and still in the opposite corner. He’d have to bank it off not one, but three edges to get it in the same side he’d hit the two into. Mathematically possible, but practically challenging. He leaned close to JT and whispered. “How do we explain our bet to Claire?”
JT raised an eyebrow. “This is just between you and me. Girls don’t like it when you treat them like a prize.”
Kurt nodded. “Eight ball in the side pocket.” He’d heard Claire make a similar declaration at various after-hours gatherings in this same pub. Spouting it himself shot his confidence level through the stratosphere. His opponent stepped back as Kurt circled the table, calculating the best possible angle and force needed to accomplish his task. He bent over the far end, pulled back his stick and closed his eyes. He smacked the ball dead-center and listened to the soft thumps as it bounced around the table—one, two, three—porcelain cracked on porcelain.
Kurt opened one eye and watched the white ball stop, transferring its energy to the black ball and sending it rolling toward the side pocket, teetering on the edge and….
It dropped in.
“Woohoo!” Claire jumped up and clapped her hands.
JT bowed his head and groaned. Then he extended his hand. “Well done.” His eyes danced as he cast a sidelong glance toward the cheering paralegal.
Does she know about the bet? Is she thrilled that I won? But no one had spoken during the game, mesmerized by his performance.
Just ask her out, JT had said. She would never find out how Kurt craved her. But a guy didn’t ask a girl out—even for coffee—unless he liked her, so she’d know. And then he’d discover once and for all if she wanted him or not. He didn’t need to know that. All the bravado he’d built up during the game trickled away like R2-D2 leaking oil.
“Aren’t you going to collect your winnings?” JT took the sticks and placed them on the rack.
Claire smiled and patted Kurt’s shoulder. “You deserve it.”
“Uh….” The warmth of her touch ignited his imagination but failed to spark his courage. “I gotta get back to work.” He sought out the waitress to pay for his lunch.
“Wait.” JT caught up with him. “You’re not going to ask her? You won fair and square… I think.”
Kurt’s glasses slid down his nose as he shook his head. “I beat you. That’s enough for now.”
JT smirked. “All right then. But I wouldn’t blow this opportunity.”
He’d have others, wouldn’t he? He glanced over JT’s shoulder as Claire approached, smiling, reaching, but her hand landed on the other guy’s back—not his. He met JT’s eyes. “I’m not you.” He paid his tab and headed for the door. “Bye, Claire. See you tomorrow.”
She fluttered her free hand at him. “Good luck with the virus.”
He shoved the jingling door open and stepped out into the cold sunlight. Just ask her! Why is that so hard? A sudden chilly gust slammed into his chest, pushing him back toward the bar. But Kurt forged ahead, braving the cold like Han and Luke on Hoth. They’d faced unknown dangers and triumphed in spite of the odds.
Oh, who was he kidding? I’m no hero. He’d won the chance to charm his princess, but he’d bailed out before his ship crashed and burned. Could he mount a rebellion? And then an even bigger question froze his heart: did she want to be rescued?
Chapter 7
Claire let out a huge sigh and slumped down on the table, barely landing her butt in the chair next to JT. They’d survived the encounter with Kurt… odd as it was… but he rarely got out of the office, so he had no idea JT had been a juror. She couldn’t risk running into someone who’d seen them at the courthouse. Just to walk out into the street with him in broad daylight presented a problem. Alex’s office faced the pub. If he happened to look out the window at just the right time…. No, better to stay here until after dark, then they could sneak out together. Another sigh escaped her.
“Are you okay?” JT rubbed her back, circling his hand between her stiff shoulder blades.
His gentle massage worked magic on her body, so she let him touch her despite the danger. “I’m so tired of worrying that someone is going to see us.”
“So stop worrying.” He sat beside her, kneading her taut flesh with talented fingers.
The tension in her neck eased and her head rolled to one side. “Just like that?”
“Yep. Forget about ‘what if’ and enjoy the moment.”
A smile soothed her lips. “That sounds like a fortune cookie.”
His hands wandered down her back to her hips. “Hey, if you’d like to add ‘in bed’ to that statement, I’m more than happy to help.”
She let him massage her thigh, his fingers teasing along the hem of her skirt. “But we’d have to leave the building to accomplish that.”
“Not necessarily.” JT eyed the dim hallway near the restrooms. Then he grinned at her and leaned close, brushing his lips on her ear as she stiffened again. “I’ll bet you like having sex in public.”
Her heart did a somersault at the thought of him dragging her down that hall, lifting her skirt, watching someone watch them as he stroked her exposed skin. “I’ve never tried it.”
“No time like the present.” He slipped off his chair and grabbed her hand.
“Whoa.” She pulled back and planted her feet. “The DA’s office is right outside, remember?”
He turned back and retook his seat. “All right. I’ll find a better place to explore your exhibitionist side.” He leaned back and perused her ass. “Your backside, too.”
I’m counting on it. She cupped his chin in her hand and redirected his gaze. “Let’s play pool. That’s harmless enough.”
He followed her to the deserted table. “You play?”
She pulled a couple of quarters from her pocket and let the porcelain balls tumble. “Yes, I do. My grandpa taught me when I was a little girl.”
“Are you screwing with me?”
“Not yet.” She winked and racked up the balls. “Come on. Afraid to lose again?”
“Fuck, no.” He ripped a cue stick off the wall and joined her. “Ladies first.”
“You’re going to regret that.” She sank three balls off the break.
JT slapped his palm over his face. “Fuck me with an honest woman.” But he got to take a few shots before she beat him. “Best two out of three?”
“Let’s go.”
He managed to win the next game, then their challenge became three of five, four of seven, five of whatever. By the time sunset cast long shadows on the gleaming office windows threatening them, they’d lost track of who’d won or lost.
Claire glanced at her watch and then across the street. Five o’clock. Her colleagues would start leaving the building any minute now, gathering at the pub, asking her to join them—noticing her with JT, asking questions she couldn’t answer. “Let’s go out and have some fun.”
His wicked blue eyes widened as a smug smile twisted his lips. “Say that again?”
She crossed her arms under her breasts to keep from smacking him upside the head, and in the process, drew his gaze to her uplifted chest. “Fun. You know what that is, right?”
“I’m familiar with the concept. The part that boggled my mind is going out. When Kurt walked in, I had to pin you down.” He winked. “Not that I’m complaining. What changed?”
Nothing’s changed, but this time I’m taking you with me. “I’ve been restraining myself all week. I need to blow off some steam.”
He tossed his cue stick on the table and threaded his fingers through her hair. �
��Oh hell, sweet thing, if that was you restrained, I can’t wait to turn you loose.”
“Neither can I.” The stress of hiding and running had wound her up tighter than her first training bra. She uncrossed her arms and pressed her breasts into him, but the door jingled and in walked an attorney who’d been in court this week. Claire stomped on her impulse to duck and run, and slid back slowly so as not to draw attention to them.
JT glanced over his shoulder at the woman in a suit similar to Claire’s. “A lawyer?”
She bent over the table and nodded while pretending to line up a shot.
He reached for her elbow, but when she snatched her arm away, he held up his hands. “Let’s slip out the door quietly so she won’t notice.”
She watched the lawyer take a seat at the bar with her back to them. “I need to go home and get out of my work clothes.”
“Yes, you do.” His fingers twitched as if itching to assist.
“And into something less legal.” The desire to wear something scandalous bolstered her urge to flee. “Where should we meet?”
“I’m going with you.”
“You are not. Don’t you trust me?”
JT laughed. “Not at all.”
Claire shuddered as heads turned in their direction. “Cheese and… damn it!” She whacked his leg with the pool cue and ran out the door.
***
“Woman!” JT’s shin throbbed as scrambled after her. Another chase? When will she learn I’ll always go after her? He jumped into his truck and guessed she was heading straight for home, so he took an alternate route, sped through a couple of yellow lights, and beat her there.
She pulled into her garage and marched toward him as he ducked under the closing door. “Cheese and crackers! What if someone had seen us? You found my house without help. They’d think we’d been fooling around the whole time!”
“Haven’t we?”
“That’s not the point!” She sputtered and flung her purse at the interior door. “We still have to be careful. I know people in this neighborhood. Someone might—”
Home Is Where the Heat Is Page 8
