How to Score (16 page)

She playfully elbowed him. “So tell me about your family.”

He drew a deep breath and searched his mind for something innocuous to share. “Mom was great. She worked all the time, so she wasn’t around as much as she wanted to be, but she was terrific.”

“And your dad?”

“My father… ” The word tasted bitter on his tongue. It conjured up ugly memories—the sour scent of the old man’s BO and his boozy breath; the roar of his angry, slurred voice; the changing colors of his mother’s black eye.

What the hell. Might as well tell her. “My father was an alcoholic. He was arrested when I was eighteen, and he died of cirrhosis in prison. That pretty well sums up his life.”

She went silent for a moment. “Why was he in prison?”

“Well, in addition to his drinking problem and anger management issues, he had a serious gambling habit. He got in debt to some nasty loan sharks, so he took a gig running drugs to pay them off.” If he closed his eyes, Chase could see the red and blue flashing lights of police cars circled around the trailer the night he’d been arrested. “Turns out the FBI had the drug operation under surveillance.”

“That must have been awful.” Her voice was a gentle breath in the night.

“Not really. My brother and I were a lot better off with him in jail.”

“Is your dad’s situation the reason you became an FBI agent?”

She could put two and two together awfully fast. He liked that about her. He liked it a lot. “Yeah. An agent interviewed me to see if I knew anything or could identify anyone, and I thought he was the coolest guy I’d ever met.” He’d worn a suit, and when he sat down, his jacket had opened to reveal a shoulder holster over a crisply pressed shirt. “He talked to me like I was a real person. He asked me what I wanted to do with my life, and out of the blue, I said an FBI agent. And I realized I meant it. And from that moment on, that was all I ever wanted to do.”

“You wanted to be the opposite of your father.” Sammi’s gaze seemed to go right through him, between the cells of his skin, straight into his veins.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”

“Because I asked.”

He watched a moth flutter outside the glass door. “Yeah, well, just because someone asks, I don’t usually spill my guts.”

“This is kind of an unusual situation. You don’t usually find yourself having a getting-to-know-you conversation when you’re already in bed with someone.”

In Chase’s experience, all too often he had. But the conversations had never been anywhere near this intimate.

He turned his head on the pillow and looked at her. “I’m not all that hard to get to know. I mean, I’m a pretty straightforward guy.”
When I’m not pretending to be my brother, that is.
His conscience burned at the thought.

She smiled at him. “What you see is what you get, huh?”

No, not at all. But I wish I’d get what I’m seeing right now.
Lying on her side like that, she was all dangerous curves—lush breasts, a nipped-in waist, and flared hips. Attraction surged through him. He trained his eyes back on the ceiling.

“You’re a really nice guy,” she said. “I’m glad I met you.”

God, he felt like a heel.

She misinterpreted his silence. “I bet you wish you’d never met me, though.” Her voice was soft, but Chase heard the forlorn undernote. “Then you wouldn’t have a concussion, and your wallet wouldn’t be all chewed up, and… ”

Aw, hell. He couldn’t let her think he was rejecting her because of a few klutzy moves. Convincing her she wasn’t bad luck to men was the whole reason he was coaching her. He rolled onto his side and touched her hand. “If none of that had happened, you wouldn’t be here.”

Her palm turned up, and she took his fingers in hers. Since when had holding hands become so intensely erotic? Her fingers fired every nerve cell in his body.

He should have looked away, but his gaze seemed Super Glued to hers. Electricity hovered between them like thunderclouds, hot and heavy and highly charged. The moment stretched and lengthened, and the longer it lasted, the hotter the air grew between them. The distance between them was somehow shrinking. And then his mouth was on hers, and hers was on his, and lightning was striking all over the place.

Oh, God, her lips were soft—soft and plump and hot. He took her bottom lip between his and gently tugged. She moaned against his mouth.

That soft little sound made coherent thought go up in flames. Nothing mattered, nothing existed except her seeking, craving, exploring lips. She pulled him down, her mouth urgent and wet and hungry.

Her breasts pressed against his naked chest. A fresh firestorm of sensation scorched through him.

He reached beneath her and cupped her bottom. She moved her head, jarring his wound.

He inadvertently flinched.

She immediately pulled back, her forehead creased, her eyes open and worried. Her hands cradled his face. “Oh, no—did I hurt you again?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” He was absolutely sure of something else—this was a terrible, terrible idea. What the hell was he doing? She wasn’t the type of woman who took sex casually. He was her life coach, damn it. He was supposed to be helping her, not trying to get in her pants.

This wasn’t dating light. This was petting heavy.

He forced himself to pull back and roll away. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I’m sorry.”

She put her hand on his chest. “Don’t be. I’m not.”

He dragged in a ragged breath. “Look—this is a bad idea. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“You’re not.”

“You might think I’m not, but the only reason you’re here is because you feel guilty about beaning me with a hubcap. And you’ve had a blow to
your
head, too, which makes this a doubly bad idea. I don’t want to risk doing anything you’ll regret in the morning.” The mattress creaked as he climbed out of bed. “I’m going to sleep on the sofa. I’ll be back to check on you in two hours.”

He strode out the bedroom door and pulled it shut behind him. He didn’t have an alarm clock, but he wouldn’t need one. There was no way he was going to sleep a wink the rest of the night.

L
et me get this straight.” Chloe braked for a stoplight, then slanted a glance at Sammi the next morning as she drove her home from Chase’s apartment. “You were in bed with Agent Hottie and nothing happened?”

“That’s right.” Sammi squinted against the morning light. She’d hardly slept all night, and the bump on her head hurt like blazes.

“How disappointing!”

No kidding. She decided to pretend otherwise for her own sake as well as Chloe’s. “I barely know him. Not to mention that he had a concussion, and I’d hit my head, too.”

Chloe shook her head. “Must have been a serious head injury to keep you from wanting to get close to a guy like that.”

It wasn’t a matter of not wanting to,
Sammi thought as she watched the joggers and walkers along the paths in Riverside Park. And while she had no intention of telling her nosy little sister, it wasn’t exactly as if nothing at all had happened.

She couldn’t believe how that kiss had affected her—how her mind had turned to mush, how time and place had fallen away, how she’d ached for more, more,
more
. No telling what would have happened if she hadn’t bumped Chase’s head.

She blew out a sigh. Who was she kidding? She knew exactly what would have happened, and it would have been a mistake. A disaster. She didn’t want to get involved with a man who wore a gun as an accessory.

And yet, the chemistry had been like a force of nature.

It was a good thing he’d stopped things when he had, because she’d been beyond the point of rational thought. He’d said he didn’t want to do anything that she’d regret in the morning, but she was pretty sure he would have regretted it more. After all, she was the reason he was laid up in bed in the first place.

He’d sure acted awkward this morning. He’d stayed on the other side of the kitchen while she made coffee, he’d refused to make eye contact, he’d kept the conversation brief and neutral. When Chloe arrived to drive her home, he’d extended his hand to her.

A handshake. He’d told her good-bye with a hand-shake!

“So when are you going to see him again?”

She blew out a sigh. “Probably never. He seemed pretty eager to get rid of me this morning.” Sammi gazed glumly out the window at a little boy on a bike. “And who could blame him? I’m a walking health hazard.”

“I think he’s drawn to danger.” Chloe gave a sly grin as she turned her rattletrap of a car into Sammi’s driveway. “I saw the way he looked at you.”

Yeah. Like I was about to sprout a second head.
Sammi unfastened her seat belt as Chloe killed the engine. “Thanks for the ride—and for taking care of Joe last night.”

“Not to mention bringing you groceries and clothes, and manning the booth for Chase all afternoon,” Chloe reminded her.

“Thanks for all of that, too. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. I only mention it because I wanted to point out that I’m not a total mooch. I do occasionally give back.”

Sammi gave her a hug. “I know you do, sweetie.”

Chloe hugged her back, then shot her a winsome grin. “Since that’s the case, how about I come in and do a load of laundry?”

Some things never changed. Sammi laughed and opened the car door. “As if I could stop you.”

Paul’s eyes rounded with incredulity as he sat beside Chase on the bench at the back of the indoor firing range two days later. “This babe was in your bed all night, and nothing happened?”

“That’s right.” Chase pulled his eye shield, ear protection, and handgun out of his equipment bag and eyed the torso target at the end of the range.

Paul shook his graying head. “You’re losing your touch, man. How am I supposed to live vicariously through you if you’re not even gonna try?”

Chase rolled his eyes. Paul was forty-two, married to a terrific woman, and the father of a little boy he adored. There was no way he envied Chase’s single lifestyle, but it was a running shtick between them. Chase started to put the sunglasses-style eye-gear on top of his head, then winced at he hit his bandaged wound. “We both had head injuries.”

“Man, you must have been practically unconscious.”

He wished to hell he had been. Then he never would have kissed her—or had she kissed him? He wasn’t entirely clear how it had happened—and he wouldn’t be obsessing about it now. Not that he was going to share that with Paul. “It wouldn’t have been right.”

“Because she’s too much of a flake?”

“She’s not really all that flaky.” Even to his own ears, he sounded strangely defensive. He put the headphones around his neck and pulled out his Glock 22. “She made sure her sister inventoried everything in your booth against my list and brought by the money. She even called Bubba and made arrangements for you to pick up your dad’s stuff later this week. And she drove a hard bargain negotiating for her sister’s hubcaps.” Although Paul would never know how hard a bargain, since Chase had put the difference in the lockbox before he’d handed it off to Paul earlier in the day.

Paul shoved his eye shield on his nose and glanced at Chase curiously. “So what’s this girl like when she’s not beating you up?”

“Smart. Funny. Passionate about all things art deco.” He turned his handgun, checking to make sure the safety was on, then pulled out the extended magazine. “Beautiful. Energetic. And kindhearted.” He thought about the way she’d empathized with her boss and landlord. “Too kindhearted, actually. She needs to stop letting people take advantage of her.”

Paul shook his burly head. “She lets people take advantage of her, and you let her lie in your bed untouched? Man, you’re losing your mojo.”

Chase rolled his eyes. “I can’t get involved with her while I’m coaching her.”

“So resign and date her.”

Chase shook his head. “I think I’m really helping her.”

“Well, then, coach her and forget about dating her.”

“That’s complicated, too.” Never mind that the complication was of his own making, since he’d given her the assignment of going out with him. What the hell had he been thinking? “I don’t want her to think she’s run me off by hurting me.”

Paul pulled his gun out of his equipment bag. “So what are you going to do?”

“Date her therapeutically.”

Paul roared.

“I’m serious. I’m going to prove to her that she can go out with a guy and not hurt him.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

“I’ll take her out three times, and when nothing happens, she’ll realize it’s all in her head.”

“What if something happens?”

“It won’t. I’ll control the situation.”

Paul blew out a snort. “You have a lot to learn about women if you really think you have any control where they’re concerned.”

“Hey, it’s just three dates. I can handle it. I’ll have her straightened out before my brother gets back.”

“Any word on how he’s doing?”

Chase dropped a forty-five into his magazine. “I talked to the regional commander Friday, and he says Luke’s fine. Anxious to come home.” And no doubt worried about whether or not Chase was taking good care of his clients.