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SAKS HELD HIS BREATH while he waited for Chrissy’s response. He knew he was crazy, knew he was probably playing the fool, but he couldn’t stop himself. Even though she said they couldn’t, her body told him something different. His situation was complicated right now, but it didn’t have to be. His family wanted him with a girl—he’d find his own damn woman. Except he needed her to want to be with him as well.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she said finally.
Saks tapped the side his phone with his finger, trying to think up a good response. Begging was out. She didn’t seem the type of woman who would like that. Reasoning, likewise, was out. Chrissy certainly wasn’t reasonable tonight. Well, part of that was his fault, coming at her like a wrecking ball in the bar. No. He’d have to do something completely oddball and catch her off guard. What was the strangest thing he could do and still make it seem like he was a good guy? Or, better yet, demonstrate he was a good guy. “You go to church, don’t you?”
“Well, of course, but—”
“Then I’ll pick you up at 8:30 for 9:00 Mass.”
“You go to church?”
“I’m confirmed as a soldier of Christ. Have the commemorative Bible and everything.”
“Uh-huh.” She sounded totally unconvinced.
“And to sweeten the deal, I’ll take you to the best dive diner for breakfast after.”
“What church are we going to?”
Yes! Saks pitched an imaginary ball into the wholly incorporeal basketball hoop on his wall. He shoots! He scores! “We can go to yours.”
He heard her sharp intake of breath. “That’s probably not a good idea,” she said.
Uh-oh. Backtrack. Fast. “Then there’s a little chapel we can go.”
“You have a church you go to? Does the priest even know your name?” Chrissy’s disbelief registered forcibly over the phone.
He damn well better know my name for the all money my family’s given the church over the years. Okay, maybe that wasn’t quite the right way to think. The priest knew him. Knew his family. But Saks wasn’t going to take her there. It was probably best to avoid the prying eyes of family, especially when he was going with a woman his family hadn’t lined up for him to marry. “That hurts. Of course he knows my name.”
“I’ll bet you ten bucks he doesn’t.”
“Ten bucks? What kind of bet is that? It’s not a bet unless it hurts when you lose.”
“I assure you, sir, I never bet money unless I’m sure I’m going to win.”
“Well, it’ll cost you fifty to find out,” he replied.
“What is this? Poker? Then I call.”
Saks wanted to say, ‘Show me what you’ve got, baby,’ but he also knew she could turn on a dime and slam the phone down, so he had to take things easy. “Guess we’ll find out in the morning, then.”
“You’d better have your fifty bucks ready,” she said and he could hear the smile in her voice.
“I’ll have more than fifty bucks. Remember breakfast?”
“Ah, breakfast. But dive diner?”
“Okay, I can take you to a diner that serves cocktails. I’ll get you a nice Bloody Mary to go with your Eggs Benedict.”
“Communion and cocktails. You sure know how to show a girl a good time.”
He laughed, feeling hope run through his body. “Baby, I haven’t even gotten started. But if you’re going to be drinking at breakfast, I need to pick you up. How about your address?”
“How do I know you’re not some stalker?”
“You know where I live. You can stalk me back. Or file a restraining order.”
“True. Okay.”
A moment later his phone pinged for a text, and an address popped up.
“Do you need a link to MapQuest?”
“Very funny.”
“How dressed up does your congregation get? I mean, are they jeans and dress-shirt kinds of people?”
Saks took this as a good sign. She was getting into the idea. “Little more than that. Not full out, but I wouldn’t wear jeans.”
“Snooty. But I can do that. But what about you? I thought you had to wear your leather jacket. Isn’t that part of your thing as a biker?”
“No, darlin’. I don’t have to wear it. You’ll be surprised how good I clean up.”
“Yes, I would.”
“Ooh, you got me there,” Saks replied in mock pain. “Be nice.”
“I’d rather be good than nice. Am I good, Saks?”
There was a flirty note in her vote that made Saks’ cock take notice. “Oh, yeah, baby,” he said in a low growl. “You’re the best.”
“Good,” she said, as brightly as a cheerleader. All seduction dropped from her voice. “I’ll see you in the morning.” With that, she clicked off the phone.
Saks leaned his head back into his pillow and groaned. What a tease. The little minx played him. She wasn’t going to let him get the best of her. And what’s more, he loved it. There was nothing less interesting than a sure thing, and all too often that’s how women played it with Saks, at least to get him into bed.
But not Chrissy. No. Even if she didn’t realize it, she was putting out a challenge to him to overcome her resistance. And he was determined he would do just that.
So, despite some discomfort through the night, and one bag of ice that turned to water, he woke with a smile on his face. He was going to see Chrissy, and the thought warmed his heart. Saks couldn’t remember when he’d last gotten so stupid over a woman, but Chrissy was worth it.
He whistled as he got ready, something he hardly did, and after a shower stepped into black dress pants, and a light tan V-neck linen pullover which cost him half his paycheck when he bought it. Though Saks didn’t splurge that much, he did like nice clothes. Then he finished the look with a summer-weight black wool jacket, and a gold chain with a cornicello, an Italian Horn amulet. So maybe that was a little ’cliché, or maybe it was just a classic look, at least for an Italian man. But he thought he looked good on him and he hoped Chrissy thought so to.
“Who are you kidding, Saks?” he said to his image in the mirror. “You look awesome.”
Still, he was sure Chrissy wanted more than good looks in a man. And his mission today was to find out what those things were so he could be those things for her.
He took out a pair of black leather lace-ups and gave them a good buff with a shoe brush and slipped them on. Saks was ready, but he felt butterflies in his stomach. Damn, he hadn’t been nervous about meeting a woman since high school.
His nerves beat a syncopated rhythm as he drove to her house, dancing a conga in his brain. Damn. She got him wound tight, though in the most pleasant way possible. It made him think of Chrissy riding his cock, holding his shoulders to the bed while he thrashed under her.
Down, boy, he told himself and his stirring cock. We’re going to church. Not exactly the place to display a chubby. But he couldn’t help thinking about that wild night in his bed. Everything about Chrissy screamed sex, from her gorgeous dark eyes to her body with the wicked curves. He was going to have to go to confession if he kept this up. After, he told himself.
Her apartment was in a small complex with four units, two on the bottom and two on the second floor. Saks checked her address on his phone again. Second floor. Right. His legs chopped up the steps and time crawled until she opened the door. He smiled when his eyes lit on hers, and he breathed deeply. He didn’t realize he had held his breath until that moment.
“My, my, Mr. Parks. You do clean up good.” She looked over his shoulder down to the parking lot. “Where’s your bike?”
“I didn’t want to muss your hair. I brought my cage.”
“Cage? Oh yeah, your car.”
“It’s the finest in beater cars, fit for the predations of Connecticut’s corrosive salt-slicked winter roads.”
“A real beast?”
“Six under the hood and four on the floor.”
“Does that include the holes in the floor?”
“Very funny. It’s mechanically sound. I make sure of it myself.”
“I’m sure. But wouldn’t a ride in Cadillac with the top down be nice on a beautiful day like today?” She dangled her keys within his reach.
“But what about your hair? Wouldn’t it get mussed?”
“It’s muss-able hair.”
Yes, he thought. His few remaining cogent brain cells dissolved into mush, and rushed to his cock as he stared at the golden halo flowing to her shoulders. Very muss-able. “Whatever the lady wishes,” he said gallantly.
“Good; you drive.” She tossed him the keys.
“Me?” he said as he caught them and followed her down the steps.
“You know where we’re going. I hope it’s not too far. I hate walking in after the priest starts the service.”
“Sounds like a woman who’s done that before. Late nights?”
“Oh, please. My roommate is a bathroom hog. If I don’t get up at the crack of dawn, I miss my slot in the shower.”
Saks walked ahead and opened the car door for her.
“Mr. Parks, are you trying to spoil me?” After she sat, Chrissy comically fanned her face with her hands.
“In every way possible, darlin’.”
Saks slid into the car, appreciating the soft white leather of the seats and the steering wheel. It was an older Caddy, probably from the ’90s, but it was in excellent condition. He turned the ignition, and the vehicle purred to life. “How’d you end up with a classic like this?”
“It’s not a classic, not yet. But my grandfather was concerned by the old Acura I had and gave this to me.”
“Nice of him.”
“Not so much. It was his excuse to get himself a new one, a great big honking red Cadillac with silver trim. It’s quite a testament to consumerism.”
“You're not a consumer?”
“I save my money. I think people giving me elderly cars in prime shape is quite a win. What about you? Why isn’t your grandfather handing off cars he can’t get a decent trade-in for?”
Saks winced. This was a tricky part, getting into family history. He didn’t want to, so he made it as simple as he could. “Grandpa Parks has been gone a while.”
“Oh, sorry.”
Saks mentally kicked himself. He just led her to believe that his grandfather was dead when, actually, he was doing twenty-to-life in a Virginia prison.
“What about your mother’s father?”
Shit. How do you explain that your mother’s father was killed in a shootout with his family’s fiercest rivals? “Family’s a bit...complicated.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m prying.”
“No. I mean, I’d just like us to have some fun.”
“Going to church?” She gave him an incredulous look.
“It’s best to cleanse the soul before we face the temptations of the world.” He couldn’t help but smirk then, especially when an image of Chrissy’s perfect mouth, gasping an “oh” when she came, flashed through his mind.
“Temptations? Just what are you planning, Mr. Anthony Parks?”
“To take your money through gambling,” he said as they pulled in to the parking lot of the church. “Though I suppose I’ll have to wait until after the service for that. That’s when Father Peters will greet me by name.”
“This I have to see,” she said.
“You don’t believe me?” he said with mock indignation.
“Well, I confess that, until this morning, I didn’t think you graced the inside of a church. But with you out of that tacky leather jacket, I can see that happening now.”
Saks frowned as he opened the car door for her. He leaned in. “Tacky? Watch it, woman. Never, ever, diss the colors of a Hades’ Spawn.”
“Why? What would happen?”
“I just might have to spank you.”
“Promise?”
Oh brother, he was going to be sinning later today.
