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I don’t even pretend to hide the fact I’m checking her out as I follow her to her economy car. Her ass is incredible and as inescapable to my attention as gravity. I want to land on that moon and plant my flag.
“Rental place all out of nice cars?” I ask as I slide into the passenger seat of her economy-size car.
She fastens her seatbelt before replying. “Not everyone needs an expensive car to prove to the world they have a big...” she hesitates and blushes before finally spitting out the final word in a whisper, “penis.”
God damn, she’s incredible when her cheeks are red. Fortunately for me, I know how to work that to my advantage. “Oh, I don’t even have a car. I can afford a bunch of them, of course, but I don’t need them to advertise for me. How big does that make me?”
She looks deep into my eyes, shockingly setting me on edge.
It’s like she’s searching for my soul, and only finally turns away once she’s confirmed I don’t have one.
I actually run my hand over my head, feeling the roughness of my closely shaved head, at a loss for words for the first time in as long as I can remember.
She starts the car. While backing out of the parking spot, she says, “You’re one of those guys pushing forty who still acts like a little boy, aren’t you? I’ll talk to Mr. Jenkins tomorrow and get him to assign me a new partner. I don’t have time for your nonsense. Where do you want to eat?”
“Don’t you want to go change first?”
“No. It really isn’t that much paint and it will get me done with you for the night that much quicker.”
I don’t really hear her reply.
I’m too stunned at her immediate dismissal of me. That never happens. Even women who don’t know I’m a famous football player or that I’m rich beyond their wildest dreams tend to latch onto me just for my looks. The money and fame usually work against me. I normally just want to get in and out. Who I am makes them want to stay around longer than the few days it takes for me to get what I want.
I do a little math in my head. It’s four o’clock now. We’re supposed to show up to work at the ungodly early time of eight the next morning.
I’m too hungover to actually calculate the hours, but I know it doesn’t leave me much time to make her mine.
And I won’t be settling for a weekend.
She’s the one.
It’s one-hundred-percent love at first sight for us.
Well, at least me.
I’m not sure what her deal is, but I’m going to win her over.
“What kind of trouble are you in?” I ask, changing the subject.
She flashes me a confused and annoyed look. I nearly melt into the seat at the sight of her full lips pressed tightly together like some kind of sexy librarian.
“I’m not in any kind of trouble. I’m here to help those less fortunate.”
I knock on the dashboard. “Based on this rental, are you sure you aren’t the one who will be getting that house at the end of the week?”
I flinch and turn my attention out the window as soon as I hear the words. My normal asshole routine isn’t going to work on the love of my life.
“How dare you talk to me like that?”
When she pulls off the road, I’m sure I’ve blown my chance. She’s going to kick me out of the car and out of her life. And I’m going to deserve every second of regret and loneliness I’ll feel until the day I die.
I open my mouth to apologize, but she speaks first. “Because of that outburst, I’m picking the restaurant. You’re paying. And I’m ordering whatever I want.”
She opens her door and gets out of the car. The sudden move flashes me the quickest peek of her pink panties.
I growl deep with need deep in my throat and hurry after her.
I beat her to the entrance and hold the door open for her.
“Where’d this hint of manners come from?” she asks as her body passes so close to mine I can smell her strawberry-scented shampoo.
“My momma, of course.”
Without stopping, she asks over her shoulder, “What would she think about your earlier behavior?”
I’m left with my thoughts as I stand frozen in place long enough to hold the doop open for another couple.
My mom died at the beginning of the last football season. She’d come to every game I’d ever played in since I first touched a football when I was six years old.
But she hadn’t seen a single game of the one season I led my team to win the championship.
I need a drink.
I stand against the wall to wait while Heidi tries to clean the small spot of paint from her dress.
“My mom would have beaten my ass, honestly,” I say when she returns.
“I think I’ll like her if I ever meet her. We’ll have lots to talk about.”
I swallow a lump in my throat. “Let’s hope you don’t get the opportunity for a long, long time.”
“Afraid of her still?”
“No. I’m afraid of losing you already before I’ve convinced you we belong together.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t understand.”
“Sorry. I’m not so good about talking about it yet, so I tend to talk around it. She died late last summer. So if you want to talk to her, you’d need to be—”
She gasps. She presses her fingers against my arm and gives me a friendly rub. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know or I—”
“Of course you didn’t. But you are right. My mom taught me better. I’ve been a bad man for way too long. That changes right now. You deserve the best I have to offer.”
She giggles. “Don’t change for me, Drake. Change because it’s the right thing for you to do. After all, we’ll be going back to our very different lives after this week is through.”
It’s my turn to shake my head. “No way. I’ve got one week to make you fall in love with me as hard as I’ve fallen for you.”
She snorts and rolls her eyes. “Do lines like that ever get you laid?”
I shake my head. “I’ve never said anything like that to a woman before. This is no joke. Give me one week to convince you.”
As she contemplates how to respond, she nibbles on her lower lip. I want to kiss her on the spot but don’t dare frighten her away.
She scrunches up her nose.
Before she can reject me, I pull her soft body against mine. Her curves feel like heaven. I press my lips against hers and close my eyes, unsure whether I’m about to get slapped or not.
My heart starts beating again when her lips open and our tongues meet as the kiss turns to something deeper and more magical.
When we finally pull apart, she gasps, stares into my eyes again, and says, “Wow.”
“It only gets better from here,” I say.
To our right, the hostess clears her throat. “Table for two?”
As I turn to face the hostess, I say, “Yes, ma’am.”
I’ll be the most polite asshole on the planet if that’s what Heidi wants.
Heidi follows the hostess.
I follow Heidi, making sure I leave a couple of steps between us so I can stare at her ass as we make our way to a booth.
Just because I’m going to be polite doesn’t mean I’m not a red-blooded man with powerful urges lurking just beneath the surface.