Рони Лорен – Call On Me (страница 8)
Her small smile radiated sarcasm, but she managed not to say anything snide in front of her boss.
“Fantastic,” Tessa said, oblivious to the silent exchange. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. And dinner’s on me. Take tonight to make up a rough plan of what needs to be done and when and we’ll go from there.”
Oakley’s gaze darted back to him. “Tonight?”
But Tessa was already strolling out the door.
Pike hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “Guess it’s a date, then.”
Her lips thinned. “Not a date. Work.”
He grinned, unperturbed by her chilly response. “How can you not like me already? Usually it takes women at least a time or two to give me that look. And usually they get something out of the deal first.”
She blinked, then that cat-eye green came back into her eyes. “You really have to ask?”
“Yeah. I’m asking. What did I do to you?” He leaned a little closer. “Well, besides make you think really impure thoughts at work. Because let’s face it, that totally happened. It may be happening right now. With children present, no less. Are you thinking impure thoughts, Ms. Easton? You can tell me.”
“Does wishing bodily injury upon someone count?”
He laughed. “Kinky.”
She stared at him for a long second, looking as if she may maim or dismember him, but then she blew out a breath. “Look, I’m sure you’re having fun, but I’m not playing this game. You’re here to volunteer. Great. The kids are going to love it.”
“But you’re not.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s not about me.”
“You’re saying you don’t need the help?”
She glanced over her shoulder at the kids, her expression softening before she turned back to him. “We always need the help. Sure. But this job means a lot to me. These kids mean a lot to me. And to be frank, I don’t have time to cater to some celebrity who’s here to put in time with the poor kids for the sake of a press clipping.”
He frowned, all playfulness draining out of him. “You think that’s what this is about?”
She shrugged. “Why else would you do it?”
He opened his mouth but then shut it again. If he said he was doing it for the sake of the kids, that’d be a lie. It’s not like he would’ve strolled down here on his own out of the goodness of his heart. But he sure as hell wasn’t doing it for the press. “I couldn’t give a shit what the media says about me.”
She crossed her arms, unconvinced.
He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m doing it as a favor to my friends, all right?”
She considered him a moment longer then gave a brief nod. “Fair enough. You really want to help, then I’ll be done at six. We can go to the Italian place on the corner. But I need to be home by eight.”
“Hot date?”
She leaned closer than he would’ve expected, right near his ear. “Yeah, with my daughter.”
She gave him an angelic smile when she stepped back, then turned on her heel to head back toward the kids, leaving him staring after her. When she passed mini-Benatar, who was cross-legged on the floor, she ran her hand over the child’s head and smiled down at her.
Well, hell.
Oakley had a kid.
At least now he knew which mom thought tattoos were dumb.
Oakley smiled to herself as Pike rattled off timelines and tasks in between bites of calzone. He’d been all business since they’d sat down in the back corner of the little dive restaurant. Her tactic had worked. It usually did. Childless men found out she was a mom and ran away like their ass was on fire.
Pike seemed to be no exception. Since she’d informed him that she had a daughter, he’d turned off the flirt. A small, selfish part of her was disappointed. Not that she had any interest in pursuing anything with anyone right now, especially with someone like him, but it had been kind of heady getting that kind of attention thrown her way. If nothing else, it had reminded her that the sexual part of herself wasn’t totally dead. Even now, that warm energy hummed through her as she surreptitiously watched Pike lick a dollop of red sauce off his thumb. He had a pouty bottom lip that would look feminine if not for the hard angle of his jaw and the scruff. She kind of wanted to bite it—see if it felt as plump as it looked.
He glanced up, caught her staring, and smiled. “So, wanna screw in the bathroom?”
She startled and stiffened, instantly yanked out of her less-than-PG thoughts.
He leaned back in his chair, vague confusion on his face. “I asked if you wanted to keep working in that back room? We could rehearse at the studio once they’re close to being ready to record. But until then, it’s probably more trouble than it’s worth to cart everyone over there. It’s not that big of a place.”
“Rehearse in the back room?” she repeated, running the words back in her head to make sense of them. “Oh, right, yes, that’s fine. I’m sorry. I thought you said something else.”
She eyed the small Bellini she’d ordered with her meal. Maybe that had been a bad idea. She was hearing things now.
Screw in the bathroom? How the hell had she gotten that out of what he’d said? Of course, now all she could think of was him doing just that—taking her by the elbow and leading her to that dark alcove at the back of the restaurant, pushing her up against that wall with the faded Italian flag on it, and putting his hands all over her. She licked her top lip, tasting the sweet remnants of her drink.
Apparently, once her libido had been brave enough to peep its head out, it had decided it was Groundhog Day and needed to run around, declaring spring was coming early. She hated to break the news, but nothing and no one was coming anytime soon.
“What did you think I said?” Pike took a long sip from his drink, his snake-charmer eyes never leaving hers.
She followed suit, hoping the fruity drink would cool off more than her throat. “Doesn’t matter.”
His lips twitched. “You’re all red.”
“I think it’s the Bellini. I don’t drink very often.”
“No way.” His expression turned smug. “You thought I said something dirty, didn’t you?”
“Huh?” She smoothed her napkin in her lap, trying to loosen the tightness in her voice. “No. Why would I think that? You’ve been very professional since we got here—which I appreciate, by the way.”
His gaze slid lazily down her body, like butter melting over toast, and goddamn it all to hell, she could feel her nipples go hard and obvious beneath her bra. No wonder he’d figured it out. Her body was waving all kinds of flags in his face.
“I am capable of being professional, you know,” he said, but his tone was all sex and sin. “I’m also more than happy to turn that off when the occasion calls for it. So why don’t you tell me what you thought you heard and why it’s gotten you all flushed and nervous?”
“I’m not nervous.”
He grinned.
Dammit. She schooled her face into a stoic expression. “The music is too loud in here. I thought you propositioned me to defile the restroom.”
His eyebrow ring twitched. “Now you’re just trying to turn me on with those big, stiff words of yours.”
All she heard was
“Well, probably not here, you’re right. I saw those bathrooms. But—”
“No, I mean, any of this. Flirting. Teasing. Whatever this is.”
He leaned onto his forearms, looking all too pleased that he’d gotten a confession out of her. “You got a guy?”
“No,” she said before she could get wise and fib.
“Then why can’t we do this?”
“Because I’m not interested.”
“Liar.”
She huffed. “Are you always this cocky?”
“No, it’s dialed down right now. I can get way worse.”
She stirred her drink. “Not. Possible.”
His lips spread into a menacing smile. “Challenge accepted.”
“No, that’s not—”
But he was already getting up from his side of the booth. He slid smoothly into the spot next to her on the cracked vinyl seat. He put his arm along the back of the booth, near to touching her, and leaned in close. “I dialed it back because what I could’ve said was how if you heard what you heard, it must’ve been on your mind already. That those pictures must be there in your head. Were we in a stall? Or bold as you please up against a wall?”
“Stop,” she said softly, somehow frozen in place, the clean scent of his shampoo mixing in with the heavy oregano smell of the restaurant and making her head spin.