that’s what I’m talking about.”
Gunnar had, once again, set her up with some good and easy shots, if she didn’t blow it from being a bit rusty and all, and she’d gotten the distinct feeling he’d done it on purpose. She leaned forward, and since he had an audience, she waited for him to step in and pull the oldest come-on in the book—to show her how to hold the cue stick and make the shot, meanwhile his hands running over her body for a quick and sneaky feel-up.
But he didn’t. He stayed right where he was and explained the technique from there. He really was Dudley Do-Right.
“Try keeping your shoulder back and your elbow like this.” He demonstrated. “See how my fingers are? Try that. You’ll have more control.”
He never got closer than two feet away.
She knew how to play well enough, but she’d let him school her, make him think he was helping her compete. Clicking back into her reason for being here tonight, she decided to play along for now, forget about her news quest. She did exactly as he’d said and made her shot. In the pocket. Yes!
She smiled at him and he winked. Uh-oh, that wink flew through her like a warm winged butterfly searching for a place to light. Good thing her fresh beer was within reach to give her an out to quickly recoup.
She smiled and made a quick curtsy, then got back to business.
She’d come here with the plan to find Gunnar, pepper him with drinks and get the information she wanted for her first breakout story. But after their surprising conversation, where they’d both shown a bit of their true colors, all she wanted to do was fit in. This was fun. To hell with the story. She could follow up on that later.
The pool game was the center of her attention, well, that and Gunnar and his every sexy move, and she had a nagging desire to impress him. Just like a kid. Eesh. If she could keep her head straight and concentrate on the game, not him, she’d do just fine.
As the game went on, he used his cue as a pointer to suggest where she should stand for which shot and she followed his every lead. As a result she had the best, most competitive game of pool in her life. Who knew how fun it was to play pool in a stinky men’s bar?
Between the beer and chips breaks, and their undeniably steamy looks passing back and forth over the scraped-up, green felt-covered table, the game kept getting extended. Occasionally while changing places they’d brush shoulders, and the simple interaction made her edgy. Man, he knew how to rattle a woman with his laser-sharp gaze, too.
As she watched Gunnar make his shots, he seemed to ooze sexy. Whether it was her beer or his smoldering gaze—he was one hot guy—her knees turned to noodles. But he was also very human, just like her, with “issues” as she always jokingly referred to the pressure from her parents to be the best at everything she did.
Gathering her composure, Lilly called the pocket and sank the eight ball. More surprised than anyone, she put down the cue and jumped with hands high above her head. “Yay! I did it. I beat you.”
Gunnar smiled, took a step closer and, being anything but a poor sport, patted her shoulder in congratulations. “Good job, Ms. Jaywalker.”
“Thanks.” Every thought flew out of her mind when he touched her. Having him close scrambled her brain, twisting her thoughts into knots. She needed a moment to recover.
“I’m going to the ladies’ room,” she said, edging away from his overwhelming space invasion. This seemed far more intimidating than when his easygoing charm had gotten her to let her guard down and spill about her past.
While in the bathroom she gathered her composure and remembered why she’d come to the bar tonight, then returned to the game with new intent. But the first thing she saw was Gunnar. He leaned his hips against the pool table, long legs outstretched, ankles crossed, arms folded, talking casually to Jake. Could he give a better display of his biceps? Man, it was going to take a lot of effort to concentrate on the next game. And, uh-oh, there was another beer waiting for her.
“I always buy the winner a drink,” he said, seeing her surprised glance when she got closer.
“Thanks.” How could she refuse? Even though she rarely exceeded her two-drink limit, she’d take a sip or two just to be nice.
He’d already set things up for the next game. She broke, and watching the balls scatter to all corners of the table, she mentally chanted her personal promise for tonight’s bar visit. It was time to get back on task, if nothing more than to get her mind off Gunnar.
“So, I’ve heard some mumblings around town about secret meetings going on over at city hall.” She stopped midplay, stood up and gave him a perfected wide-eyed, play-it-dumb glance. “You know anything about them?”
He scratched the side of his mouth. His tell? “Can’t say for sure I’ve heard about any secret meetings on the beat. What else have you heard?”
Liar. She’d seen him with her own eyes going into that building from her room at the Heritage, and later leaving, from the bushes where she’d staked out last night. Though she supposed the officer wasn’t brazenly lying, saying he couldn’t say “for sure,” and using a technicality, “not hearing anything on the beat,” but he was definitely fudging. And he’d turned the tables on her asking what she’d heard. Lilly could feel in her journalistic bones there was a big story behind those meetings and her proof was his inability to admit to or deny them. Which only made her more curious about the after-hours comings and goings over at city hall.
What had she heard, he’d asked? She shook her head, again taking the dense tack. “Just that things are going on and it may be important to Heartlandia.”
He touched her arm. The spot went hot. “Tell you what, if I hear anything from anyone in town about those meetings, you’ll be the first to know.” Again, he’d set up his phrase to keep it from being a bona fide lie.
Without warning, he leaned across the table for something that was behind her, and because she didn’t budge, on his way back he brushed her cheek with his shoulder. “Chalk,” he said, showing her the prize. Was this a ploy to throw her off track?
From this proximity she looked into his baby greens and, oh-baby-baby. Their eyes locked up close and personal and she thought someone had poured warm honey over her head. Good move, Gun-man, I’ve forgotten my own name. Close enough to smell his sharp lime-and-pine aftershave, she turned toward his face at the exact moment he’d shifted closer to her, and their lips nearly touched. What if she bridged the gap and snuck a quick kiss just for the heck of it? She’d bet her first paycheck there’d be a tingly spark when she made contact.
Their eyes met for an instant, and she didn’t even need to make contact to get that zingy feeling again.
You’re on the job, remember? She let the moment pass, but was quite sure she’d made her almost-intentions known, and there it was, she’d gotten to him. His eyes went darker, and she sensed a surge in his body heat. He probably wondered the same thing about that potential kiss.
Don’t overanalyze everything.
“Okay,” she said, acting as if she almost kissed guys on the run all the time, taking the proffered chalk. “Then I start.” After she chalked up her cue, and before she made her shot, she sipped more beer as euphoria merged with lust and tiptoed up her spine. Wow. She rolled her shoulders and willed
