“Would you stop? If they—” she flung a hand toward the hockey groupies who’d trailed us to the SUV, cells out, and doubtless in a clicking frenzy, “post anything on social media, and my mother sees it, I’m so screwed. Go fix this right now!”
Her striking light brown skin took on a red shade of temper. Hell, I sure annoyed her. But for the first time, I had a little reprieve from the groupies.
Since the running board was high on my elevated truck, and she not only wore a short skirt and some kind of wedged heels but was on the smaller side, too, I grasped her by the waist and put her on the seat. “If you don’t want more photos or maybe a vid posted,” I said softly, “stop making a scene.”
“A-a scene?” she repeated. “Me?” she shrieked.
Smirking, I shut the door on her furious expression and rounded the hood to my side. Yup, she knew what I was about, using her to escape my stalker fans.
I opened the driver’s side door and got inside, grateful she kept her delectable butt on the seat and didn’t try to break free. “I assume you’re going home, not joining in the celebrations since you’re not with the Ila or Ray?”
A ten-dollar bill came flying onto my lap.
I picked up the note, knew what it was for. “I agreed to the bet, not the stakes.”
“You nodded at the time when I said ten dollars,” she hissed.
“I agreed to your bet that I was right, not thatI’dpay ten. Too bad you didn’t clearly state the wager amount was for thebothof us.”
I tried not to grin as she glared at me. Our bet amounted to playful words uttered at a party, and not a serious stake, but even so, I was enjoying having this sea urchin at my mercy. Perhaps a little too much.
I grasped her clenched fingers, gently prying them open, and put the money in her palm. “Why would I bet a measly ten dollars on anything? My rewards are much, much higher. And don’t think I’ve forgotten you were sneaking offbehindme to rush off unseen, Charlotte Jones, and without paying up, too. I always collect on my winnings.”
Lips thinned, her delicate jaw jutted in ire. “Did blondie not pan out?” she asked sweetly, eyes spitting fire. “Banged her already? Slept your way through all the women of San Francisco, did ya? Too bad. Go find some other slank. I’m not sleeping with you!” She folded her arms beneath her breasts, mouth tipping down into a sulk.
Did she think that’s what I’d been doing since I last saw her? And worse, what I’d expect from her as payment on a silly bet?
I leaned my arm on the steering wheel and studied her tight expression.
She had no idea I didn’t dorealbets at all—hated them—one ingrained from my childhood and drunken father. But I wanted to shatter that ten-foot pole she used at the wedding to keep me at a distance. Oh, she was funny, amusing, and had a sarcastic mouth that would put Ray’s to shame, but the moment I’d taken a step closer to chat, to ask about something personal, like what she did job-wise, she whipped out the damn pole and shut me down.
Yeah, I wanted Charli in my bed, but I wanted her to want it, too. The girl eroded the calm I’d worked damn hard to achieve. Hopefully, once this itch for her was scratched, I’d be back to normal. Whatever that shit was.
“Who said anything about sleeping with me?” I cut her an arched stare. “I want a willing partner in my bed, not a thorny, sea urchin.”
She growled, and I clamped my lips together, suppressing my smile. It was fun chipping at the pole she pointed at me. My friends all thought I was too intense—hell, my life was intense—but since meeting Charli, she brought out a lighter side of me, one I never knew existed.
“What do you want?” she snapped.
If her glower could kill, I’d be dead several times by now. I buckled up and started the engine. “There is something I’m real desperate for,” I lied just to rile her, checking the chaotic Mission Bay Boulevard before easing into the evening traffic. I cast her a quick look and winged it. “I need help.”
Her scowl faded. “For what?”
“Weeds.”
“Weeds?” Her mouth dropped open. “Weeds!” she reiterated in a near screech.
It wasn’t what I’d planned to say. I only meant to bug her as much as I could, then tell her to forget it. But something about me seemed to rankle her, and for some reason, it irritated me. “Yes. My yard needs clearing.”
“Why-why?” She twisted in her seat, facing me, her tempting breasts rising and falling. “You’re rich. You can afford a team of landscapers. Hell, get your slanks to clean your garden. You’re sure to succeed there.”
Slanks? I didn’t know the word, but I got her drift.
“First, that’smypart of the bet,” I reiterated. “And second, why would I want strangers around me? It’s enough I have to deal with them every time I leave my apartment. Besides, you’re not trying to get into my pants, so there’s that.” It was the truth, I realized then. While she might hate me, I liked her. So, all was good.
She stared at me as if I’d come out of left field and clocked her with my puck. But if it got me what I wanted, I’d use it.
“Ah, I see…” I dragged out the pause as I stopped at a red light, aware of her dagger-like stare nailing me. “So, you’re the type to back out when a bet doesn’t go your way?” I glanced at her, and her delectable mouth tightened. “Rrriiight. You’re all talk and—”
