Something’s up, Laurel guessed. He’s curious about something and wants the scoop. Or he’s looking to spread something about someone. People were usually only nice to her for those two reasons alone. And she hated it. Hated herself for being unable to resist perpetuating the behavior. But, she’d always reasoned, no one would know she even existed if her reputation for gossip didn’t precede her.
Oh gracious, she mentally smacked herself. What if he’s heard something about his mother? She frantically tried to recall if she’d told anyone about Vicky’s interlude with that hot cowboy. No, no. I haven’t, she exhaled. She hadn’t talked to anyone since she’d closed up shop shortly after they left, though the knowledge was burning a hole in her brain with the need to escape.
Jack stopped at a booth along the far wall and indicated that she should sit. He smiled as she slid across the bench and she couldn’t help but smile back. Jack Steely was legendary around Kessler County. A real stud. From the top of his dark haired head to the tips of is boot clad feet, he was a walking advertisement for wild sex.
It’d be too much to hope that she was his next conquest.
He hovered the wine bottle over her glass. “More wine?”
“Yes, thank you.”
She watched nervously as he filled his own glass and lifted it to his lips. The muscles in his throat worked as he swallowed and even that utilitarian action made her mouth go dry and her hands tremble. If she’d been standing she was sure her knees would be weak.
Pathetic, she scolded herself and drank deeply from her own glass.
“Thirsty?” he mused and reached across to refill her glass once more.
“You have no idea,” she murmured, smiling gratefully at the rich red liquid courage. Forcing herself not to immediately drain it again, Laurel relaxed her grip on the stemwear and leaned back. She tried not to look at him for too long. Staring was rude, or so she’d heard. Women tended to stare at Jack all the time, though. He was stare worthy.
She could feel his eyes on her, though, and she couldn’t help but wonder what he saw. Trouble, more than likely. And not the fun kind.
He leaned forward and touched her hand, causing her to jump.
“Everything okay?”
Swallowing, she nodded. “Great. I…I’m super,” she squeaked.
“You just seem tense all of a sudden.”
“Long day,” she lied.
“I hear ya. But that means business is good, right?” he grinned and leaned back again, removing his hand from hers. He sipped at his wine again, his eyes still on hers and Laurel had to force herself to blink.
Maybe she should ask the waitress to pinch her. Make sure she wasn’t dreaming. He seemed almost…dare she think it? interested in her. And that wasn’t possible. No, she decided with a slight shake of her head. He was just being polite. Probably waiting until the food arrived to hit her up for what he wanted to know.
“Laurel?”
Cheeks flaming, she realized she’d been staring wordlessly at him and he’d asked her a question. Though for the life of her she couldn’t recall what he’d asked.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“You’re sure you’re okay?”
Smiling brightly, the way she always did, she nodded. “Absolutely. You just caught me woolgathering.”
He studied her for a moment before slowly nodding his head. “Right.”
“What did you ask me?”
“I just observed that a long day means business is good.”
He lifted a brow and smiled.
“Oh, absolutely.”
Was she saying absolutely too much? She felt like she was saying absolutely too much.
“Laurel?”
Jerking her attention back to him, her eyes widened when he leaned across the table and took her hand. She looked from his hand to his face and thought briefly of getting her camera out. She’d want proof later.
“Y…yes Jack?”
He grinned and caressed her hand with his thumb. “Drink some more wine. And relax.”
“I’m absolutely relaxed,” she sniffed but took his advice and drained her wine again.
Trying not to stare at him again, she surveyed the room and couldn’t help but notice a few furiously whispering couples, most of whom looked away when they noticed her glance. Like she, herself, they were wondering what Jack was up to. What did he want from the town gossip? What was the county pariah telling him?
Before she could go too far down that road, the busty and gorgeous Candy delivered their steaks with a wink at Jack. “Anything else you need, boss?”
“Nothing for me.” He turned to Laurel, “For you?”
“No thanks. It looks amazing.”
Candy lingered, her curvy hip inching ever closer to Jack. Laurel wondered why the woman didn’t just sit in his lap as she obviously wanted to. “Another bottle of wine then?”
“That’d be great, Candy. Thanks.”
“Always happy to serve you, Boss,” she teased and ran her manicured hand down Jack’s bicep before sauntering away.
Laurel’s eyes lingered on his bicep where Candy had touched him. A barbwire armband tattoo peeked from the hem of his t-shirt sleeve. She’d noticed it before, of course, but never this close.
“You like it?”
Feeling her cheeks heat again, she licked her lips and reached for her glass only to find it empty.
He chuckled quietly and emptied the bottle into it and watched as she drained yet another glass. She set the stemwear down a little too hard and winced at the thunk. She was making a mess of this. Why didn’t he just come out and ask what he wanted to know like most people? Why drag this out over dinner.
I’m not mature enough for this, she thought.
Jack glanced up from cutting his steak and caught her staring at him. “Not mature enough for what?”
Crap. She’d said it out loud.
“All this wine,” she lied with a nervous giggle and mentally ordered herself to stop. “It’s going straight to my head.”
Smiling, Jack nodded. “Best dig into your food then. Soak some of it up.” He took a hearty bite and slowly chewed.
Damn. Even his chewing was a little bit naughty.
“A professional suggestion?” she asked, following his lead and taking a bite of the perfectly prepared steak. She only wished she could taste it. Her taste buds had deserted her in favor of playing up her nerves.
“Absolutely,” he replied, winking.
Crap.
Mentally pulling herself up by the proverbial bootstraps, Laurel continued casually cutting into her steak and potatoes as if she had supper with sexy bartender slash bar owners with lickable tattoos and naughty chewing skills all the time. Or at least she hoped that’s the impression she was conveying. She was pretty sure she was failing miserably.
Note to self: Start staying home more often. The best way to ditch her gossip reputation was to avoid people, right? And the less they thought they could get from her the less likely she was to find herself mooning over a man who more likely than not was flirting with her to either get or spread some juicy tidbit or other.
“So tell me,” she poked around at her potatoes with her fork, looking at him from beneath her lashes, “what are you hoping to discover, Jack?”
His chewing slowed by a fraction but he lifted a shoulder and swallowed. “Everything. What’s your favorite color? Are you an action chick or a rom com freak? Bikini’s or granny panties?”
Nearly spewing her wine, Laurel reached for her napkin and wiped the moisture from her lips before setting the glass down to stare mutely at him. For his part, he merely refilled both their glasses and offered her another napkin.
“That’s really funny, Jack,” she muttered, taking the napkin and dabbing the dribble that had landed on her blouse. “Seriously, what do you want?”
“Now if I told you that you’d probably have me arrested.”
No wink, no smirk, nothing to indicate that he was just teasing her. Just a small, dangerous smile and another bite of steak like they were talking about the weather.
What the hell? Just what kind of game is he playing? she fumed silently.
Well fine, then, she thought. If he wasn’t going to tell her what he really wanted she’d enjoy her steak and go home. Maybe the fantasy that this had been a date would get her through the next five year dry spell.
Attacking her food with determination, she speared a slice of beef and shoved it in her mouth. As she chewed she watched his face go from pleasantly calm to dark and dangerous in a nanosecond.
She watched curiously as he reached for his glass and took a deep pull of wine, draining it almost instantly, his eyes never leaving hers.
She wanted to ask him what that look was for. It was almost positively smoldering. No one ever smoldered at her. Ever. Did people even still say smoldering anymore? she wondered, hoping to distract herself from the man across from her. Because that look couldn’t be for her. He wasn’t serious.
Abruptly, he clattered the flatware onto his plate and hastily wiped his mouth. “I’d better get back to work.”
Laurel felt her mouth open in a quiet oh as he slid from the booth and hastily started gathering her things. “Oh, well I—“
“No, you stay. Finish your meal. I’ll catch you later.”
And just as suddenly as he’d invited her to share a meal with him, he was gone, striding purposefully across the restaurant floor to the kitchen. As she stared at his half eaten steak she could suddenly feel nearly every eye in the room watching her. What she didn’t notice was any surprise. They’d expected it, she reasoned.
But she honestly didn’t know what she’d done this time. She hadn’t spread one single drop of gossip. Not even the bit about his mother shacking up with the strange cowboy.
Loser, she could almost hear them thinking.
Willing herself not to cry, Laurel drained the wine from her glass before digging some money from her purse. Tossing a few bills on the table, she slid from the booth with as much dignity as she could muster and forced herself not to run to the door.
