"Wait," she continued. "Let’s be honest with ourselves. No one here believes we could be more than two people on a publicity date."
"Not with that attitude, they won’t," he countered.
Bax moved the mic back and forth with an ease that seemed practiced.
"You don’t like predictability," she announced. "And it’s practically listed on my name tag at work."
The way Mach stared at her made her squirm in an uncomfortable new way. Uncomfortable and something else… excited?
"How do you know what I like or don’t like?" he asked, and then the audience and Bax and the Dimefront ladies, they all slipped into the background. This was only the two of them having a conversation.
"Mach." She lifted her eyebrows. "You are a rockstar. It’s not hard to put it together."
Now that? That brought on a smile from him. He full-on beamed like it was a good thing.
"Nothing about…well…you…says anything but roll with it," she continued, since she was marching on toward whatever point this was becoming.
"And you don’t roll with it?" he asked, as though he had paid zero attention to anything she’d said up to that point.
She shook her head anyway in answer to his question.
"You know what my life needs right now?" she asked.
"Bet you’re gonna tell me." That damn dimple high on his cheek above the beard made an appearance.
Honestly, it was a good thing this whole shebang was a farce. Because, if this datewerereal, there was a chance she would’ve seriously enjoyed his attention. It would totally toss her off kilter. Have her questioning things that didn’t need questioning.
"Better predictability," she said. "That’s what my life needs right now." More stability. Maybe she should go for something totally predictable like that Nurses on the Frontline program she’d been thinking about. Her entire day would be mapped out for her. All she would have to do is show up.
She gulped at what seemed like an a-ha moment.
"I have an idea." Mach said this low, like it was only for her. The words were sultry. Gravelly. Yummy.
And then it wasn’t only them. The rest of the room came into focus. Bax between them. The mic at Mach’s lips as he said, "Spend tonight with me."
The room zipped to a pinprick.Did he just…? Had he just…?
Spend tonight with me.That’s what he’d said. Like he was fresh off the set of a daytime soap opera show. Yes, he’d said it! To her, no less. In front ofeverybody.
Frozen in space, she did nothing but take a decent pull of her piña colada. Not the best choice, because when a piece of coconut got caught against her throat, she had to choke it down. She did her best to do it without too much fanfare.
He paused before saying anything else. Appearing to ensure she wouldn’t stop breathing before he said anything else.
Mach waited, and dammit, he was so gorgeous. He was so far out of her league that he played a different sport. But here he was, watching her lips like she’d dribbled piña colada on them, and he seriously wanted to lick it off.
She shivered.
No. No shivering. No flutters. She had to respond first.
He hadn’t said something simple like, "Let’s hang out." Nor had he asked something direct like, "Wanna fuck?" This was a situation that required a whole heaping spoonful of clarity.
"Are you asking me to hook up?" she asked.
The smolder in his gaze was enough to warm even the coldest blended cocktail.
"Let me show you how fun things get when you let them be," he said instead of a direct answer. And the husky tone of his words made her whole body hum. There was a crackle in the air between them. Some kind of chemical induced promise happening.
No one—not even Tom—had ever made that happen before. Tom hadn’t ever spoken to her with anything but a perfunctory effort that did not elicit whole-body hums.
