“Because.I’m not the kind of person who lifts up her shirt in a bar.”
Trent narrowed his eyes at her, and something hot and possessive flashed through them.“Glad to hear it, Harper.Maybe later then.”
Harper struggled to form a response, but he cut her off.“Who are you here with?”
“Work,” she spluttered.“People from work.And my best friend, Drea.”
He leaned forward and whispered, “I like it when you get flustered.”His breath brushed softly across her ear.She shivered.
“Well, good.Because flustered seems to be my natural state around you,” she whispered back, amazed she was able to come up with any retort at all.
“Your turn.He kicked my ass.Again.”Pixie flopped into a free chair.
“Who wants to play the greatest player to ever live?”Cujo asked, ruffling Pixie’s hair.She smacked his hand away good-naturedly.
“Harper and I will play you.”
“A little tag team action.I like it.You’re on.”
Harper was horrified.“Did you not just see me scratch the white ball?And then the black ball?”
“That’s why your game ended so quickly.Hmm.It’s worse than I thought.You need tutoring.”
Harper laughed.“Seriously.I shouldn’t be allowed within twenty feet of a pool table.I’m clearly a hazard.”
“Yep, but I’m an amazing pool player.Now get up and let me show you how it’s done.”Harper stood reluctantly as Trent grabbed her hand and pulled her out of her chair.
Leaning toward his ear as she stood, she whispered, “Amazing at pool, amazing at tattoos, amazing at hugs.Anything you’re not amazing at?”
He handed her a cue while Cujo racked the balls.Grinning, he leaned back toward her and whispered, “Staying away from hot chicks with bad-ass tattoos.”
She knew what he was doing with his “Let me help you line that up, Harper” and “Here, if you try it like this it’s better.”It was so clichéd it was ridiculous.Yet she couldn’t ignore all his slightest of touches, lasting no more than a moment as his arm brushed past hers for the chalk or resting in the small of her back as he changed cues.And as if that wasn’t enough—which it was—when he leaned over the table to take his shot he kept revealing that drool-worthy butt clad in fitted jeans and flexing those muscular tattooed arms under the rolled-up sleeves of his black shirt.
“I know what you’re up to, Trent,” she said as they leaned back against the wall watching Cujo take his shot.
“And what would that be?”he asked, turning to face her with a devious smirk.
“You know.”
“Is it working?”
Harper walked to the table, taking a moment to think through her response to the incredibly simple question.Pausing while setting up her next shot, she looked over her shoulder to where he was still reclining against the wall, watching her patiently.All the reasons she’d vowed to stay alone, to remain uninvolved, fled as he grinned at her.
“Maybe.”
***
They lost.Trent wasn’t surprised.He’d barely been able to look at the balls, all of his energy focused on Harper.Man, when she wasn’t showing off that mighty fine ass as she bent over to shoot, she was totally engaging him with her funny, self-deprecating comments.
The more time they spent together, the more comfortable she got with him.Which was exactly what he was going for—though working hard for a girl was definitely not his usual M.O.It was hard to pin down what it was about Harper that made her so different, but she was totally worth the effort.
As Harper took a shot, Cujo tried to distract her by dancing in front of the pocket she was aiming for.Trent laughed as he heard her threaten Cujo’s most important organ.
“What’s the deal with you and her, Trent?”Lia asked.“She’s not just a client, is she?”
“No clue what you are talking about,” Trent said, nonchalantly pouring himself another beer from the pitcher and signaling to the waitress for another.
“Come on, T.I’ve known you for what, ten years?We had to drag you here for a quick beer two hours ago, and now I’d bet my Aaron Cain limited edition five-liner that we couldn’t make you leave if we wanted to.”
