Crystal Green – The Hard-to-Get Cowboy (страница 5)
He wanted to get back to the flirtation. He hadn’t met anyone in Thunder Canyon who’d made him forget all the tough questions that had been echoing in his brain ever since the wedding brawl, and he wasn’t about to lead her into thinking that he was the kind of guy who was even comfortable having that type of conversation.
Leaning his elbows on the table, he sent Laila his most lethal grin.
“If you’re thinking of asking me questions, don’t.”
“Questions about what?”
“Serious stuff. The kind of questions that come after a first date.”
She laughed, as if he’d stepped over a line she’d already drawn with him. “Are you saying this is a date?”
“Nope.” He lowered his voice. “But when we do go on our first one, I’m just laying out some ground rules. I don’t want to hear any of the kind of questions that make you narrow your eyes like that.”
She was flustered, and he hadn’t expected that from a graceful, composed woman like Laila Cates.
“When we…?”
“When we go on our first date,” he said, completing her sentence, enjoying the hell out of the chase.
Because he always got what he wanted when it came to women, and Laila Cates wouldn’t be an exception.
“I never said I would—”
“You didn’t have to, Miss Laila. But you know damn well that we’re going to go out.” He lifted an eyebrow. “It’s just a matter of when.”
He sure was cocky, Laila thought, her pulse racing so fast that it felt as if she was running.
Jackson Traub—arrogant and altogether too confident.
And they were talking about a date.
Her.
She could just imagine what her parents—no, the whole town—might say if they caught wind of this conversation. Laila Cates, the proper bank manager, the woman who did everything according to the letter, hanging around with a rabble-rousing Texas stranger.
But then a different type of thought altogether started to take shape in her mind… .
What if going on a date with a fly-by-night man like Jackson Traub could convince Cade Pritchett that she really
Suddenly, she liked the whole idea. Especially since, even if she
Here and gone.
There was an appeal to that. And there was a definite appeal to
What would be the harm in just one date?
But then something went swirly in her belly, melty and hot, trickling downward until it settled in the core of her.
She shoved the sensation aside.
“Come on, Laila,” Jackson said, his brown eyes glinting with that flirtiness she’d seen before. “I’m just talking about a date, not a marriage proposal.”
Wasn’t he a card.
Or, more to the point, a wild card.
“Very funny,” she said.
“Don’t tell me a man doesn’t have a chance with you.” He sent a glance over his shoulder, toward the door where Cade had disappeared only moments ago. “Or maybe there’s something else to it.”
She had the feeling he was going to go somewhere she didn’t want to go.
“Maybe,” he said, “there really is something between you and Pritchett, even if you were desperate to get away from him less than five minutes ago.”
Jackson said it in a teasing way, as if he didn’t believe it for a second.
Was there anything this Texan didn’t see? It was as if he could read her through and through.
Yet she refused to dignify his question with an answer. She knew when a troublemaker was stirring it up.
He chuckled, just as the jukebox went silent, leaving only the laughter from the bar patrons.
She crossed her arms over her chest.
“We both know that there’s no way you’ll end up with a nice guy like Pritchett.” He put the glass to his lips, drinking.
His throat worked with every swallow.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him, couldn’t stop herself from thinking what it would feel like to have her lips against that throat, the warm skin roughened by stubble from a five o’clock shadow.
But she managed to pull her gaze away before she offered evidence that he was right about her being attracted to a bad boy over a good one.
“I may not end up with Cade,” she said, “but that doesn’t mean I’d put myself in the position of ending up anywhere with you.”
He put down the drained mug. “Shot through the heart, Miss Laila. You’ve got some excellent aim.”
“And
“I can sure guess.” He sat back in his chair, long-limbed and laconic.
A wise girl would have gotten up from the table by now, heading through the door for home, where it would be safe. But here she was flirting with him.
And she didn’t want to stop.
He said, “I surmise that, all your life, you’ve dated men who are steady. Men who drive just five miles above the speed limit—and that’s their idea of living dangerously. And yours, too.”
He didn’t even seem to be expecting a response—not judging by the long, cocky stare he was fixing on her, one that suggested he knew how madly her blood was flying through her veins, just from being near him.
When had she ever felt like this before?
Was it curiosity that was keeping her here? Or was it because the big 3-0 was looming above her like a net, ready to drop and wrap her up in the great unknown?
Whatever it was, she finally, quietly dared to say, “And just what would a man like you have to offer on a…date?”
Jackson lowered his ankle from where it’d been resting on his knee. “I drive a whole lot faster than the speed limit, for one thing.”
“And you’ll be driving just as fast out of town, once you’re done with your business here.”
“So I will. But a woman who doesn’t aim to settle down wouldn’t care so much about my leaving. We understand each other’s philosophies on that.”
Was he saying that they had something in common? That because she didn’t have any plans to get married, she was just like him?
The notion should’ve disturbed her, but instead, it sent a shot of adrenaline racing through her body.
“Come on, Laila,” he said, leaning toward her even closer. Charmingly. Devastatingly. “One date. That’s all I’m asking for.”
She swallowed. “That’s all?”
What was she doing?
“One date is all…for now.” He stood to his full height, towering above her, then leaned down until his words brushed her ear with warmth. “But I’m pretty sure you’ll find that one date won’t be enough.”
And, with that, he ambled away, not even bothering to get her phone number or arrange a time to pick her up.
Just as cocky—and tempting—as he’d been when he’d entered the bar.