she’d transformed into a vibrant, alluring woman before his eyes, he’d ditched his Scout troop in favor of a little sweet talk and seduction. And the safety factor had flown out the proverbial window.
Words such as serious and relationship and future and other scary notions leaped to mind. He simply didn’t do those things. Not any more. Jake had gone the marriage route once and he’d gotten used, burned, battered and beaten. Ever since, fun and games had been his stock-in-trade. Just fun. Just games.
Prissy Chrissie, however, kissed as though she planned on changing the rules and the stakes. And well, that just wasn’t going to happen. Not to him. Not again.
That’s why he’d walked. Before the harm. Before the foul.
So why was he sitting here fighting the urge to walk right back to Chrissie? Get a better, longer, bigger taste of what he’d just walked away from?
He dragged a hand over his face. He had to think. He had to think about this a lot. But not tonight.
“Come on,” he said. “My place. Gotta be something on ESPN to take our minds off what ails us.”
“This time of night? Nothing but reruns,” Connor said, walking beside him out of the club.
“Good enough for me,” Jake said.
When the light finally dawned, it lit up Christine’s world like a ten-thousand-watt bulb and darn near blinded her. That’s why Monday at noon she had a mission on her mind when she maneuvered her flashy, brand-new red convertible—purchased just fifteen minutes ago when she traded in her used tan compact—into a space in front of Hellfire, International.
She was turning over new leaves left and right. No more dull and drab and ultrasafe for Christine Travers. From now on it was flash and fire, razzle and dazzle. She was filled with determination to change a few more things when she fed the meter, drew a deep breath and headed into the building.
She’d thought about her meeting-slash-date with Jake Thorne all weekend. Mostly she’d thought about the way he’d kissed her. She’d gotten all warm and tin-gly inside. And she liked the feeling of excitement and anticipation. She’d considered his offer to teach her about walking on the wild side. And she liked the prospect of treading a new path. Yeah, she was still getting used to this brave new Chris.
She had Jake to thank for this awakening. The man, she thought with a smile as she pressed the elevator button that would take her to Jake’s fourth-floor office, was full of the devil and full of life and teasing and fun.
After five years of scowling over his antics, cursing him for his insensitivity, she’d done a one-eighty. She now was convinced that he’d had the right idea after all. She’d been doing it all wrong.
She wasn’t sure of the exact moment when she’d come to that conclusion. It wasn’t that the bulb had been off one second, then suddenly burned full blast the next. No, the wattage had steadily increased over the weekend. It had finally powered to full glare about the same time she’d started asking herself what her straitlaced, all-work-no-play mind-set had netted her all these years. And she’d realized she didn’t like all the answers.
Well, she was going to ask some new questions. Starting today.
“Hi, Janice.”
Jake’s secretary looked up from her desk when Christine breezed in the door. “Well, hello. You’re looking…bubbly,” the secretary said with a curious smile.
Christine felt bubbly. And it was about time. “Is Jake in?”
Janice picked up the handset. “Let me see if he’s busy.”
Christine hadn’t even settled into a chair when Janice said, “You can go in. Great outfit, by the way,” she added with an approving nod. “I love what you’ve done with your hair.”
Christine’s new plan had called for new look. That’s why she’d headed out to the mall Sunday afternoon and spent some of her moldy money—Alison’s words—on some snappy new sandals, a pair of snug white capri pants and a white spaghetti-strap tank. Over top she wore an off-the-shoulder, light-as-air silk-scarf blouse in a soft pink print that gave the entire outfit a breezy, sexy and fun look. She’d also gotten a makeover. A short, sassy haircut and some makeup secrets made her look vibrant instead of invisible.
The look fit her mood. Right up until the moment she walked into Jake’s office. Then all of her hard-won confidence crumpled in the face of what she planned to do.
Can I really do this?
Jake had a smile firmly in place. The smile, however, deflated like a leaky balloon as he looked her up and down.
“Chrissie. This is a…surprise.”
More than a surprise. Christine could see that by the way his dark eyebrows were pulled together. He seemed wary about what her presence in his office meant. Was he worried about her reaction, given that he’d kissed her silly Saturday night, then galloped out of Dodge as fast as three hundred and fifty horses could take him? Maybe more than wary. Maybe he was worried sick that she’d read too much into that kiss.
Well, she hadn’t. But she did intend to stay the course.
“Sorry to barge in like this. I was wondering if you had a minute to talk.”
He leaned back in his chair. Tossed down his pen and gave her another appraising look. “Well, um, sure. What’s on your mind? Wait. Stupid question. You’re here about Jess Golden’s things.”
“Not exactly.”
Okay. This was much harder than she’d thought it would be. She took a deep breath, let it out and put it all on the line.
She blurted out what she wanted from him.
Then she waited for the fallout as a stunned and, if she wasn’t mistaken, panicked look froze on Jake’s handsome face.
“You want me to what?”
Oh, God, Jake thought. This was not what he needed today.
“I want you to make good on your offer. I want lessons on how to walk on the wild side.”
No. No. No. He’d had it all worked out. It was a done deal. He’d crossed the wrong line with Chrissie Saturday night—a line he’d decided he wasn’t going to cross again, no way, no how, no time. He was going to forget about her innocent, lusty kisses and go back to being her biggest pain in the butt.
That was the safe way.
But now here she was, all girly and gorgeous and pink and sexy as hell with that handkerchief of a top sliding off her left shoulder and leaving it bare. She’d done something to her hair, too. Cut it in a sassy do that gave the illusion she had just gotten out of bed and run her fingers through it—or a lover had.
And her lips. Lord, they looked plump and pouty, painted the prettiest shade that had him licking his own lips over the thought of licking the color off hers.
Double hell. Just when he’d had all his ducks lined up in a neat and tidy row, Miss Quick-Change Artist had come rushing in and sent them scattering in every which
