Jill Monroe - Hitting the Mark

She nodded, slipping the strap of her spangly purse over her shoulder. “So, where are you taking me?”

He pulled the door shut behind her, turning the handle to make sure it was locked. Then his hand fell to the small of her back. Warmth from his fingers seeped through the thin cotton of her tank.

“One of my coworkers recommended a dinner club. The singer there is amazing.”

Was liking music a bad sign? “Did you ever want to be a musician?”

He shook his head, and gave her a strange sidelong glance. “No. Why do you ask?”

Danni laughed. “No reason. Never mind.” Corporate. Definitely corporate.

Fifteen minutes later they were seated and facing one another as they had at the coffee shop. She sized up the restaurant in moments. Moderate to upper level in price range. Couples mainly. Management probably dealt more in credit cards, not a lot of cash in the till. The real money was probably in the register at the bar. And there was a delicious smell of cheese and artichoke dip in the air.

Hmm, probably assessing where the cash was kept did not indicate ideal first-date behavior. Danni grew ill at ease.

Feeling awkward was a new one for her. As the roper in her father’s schemes, she’d always been highly familiar with her mark, prepared for every situation. Should she approach Eric like that, see him as the mark? Except she hadn’t put in the practice time or the research to really know him.

The only advice she had came from Cassie. Her friend’s few choice words of wisdom had been to stay with neutral topics. Keep the conversation going. Avoid long silences.

The silence between them now was stretching to near Olympic proportion. She shifted in her seat.

“So tell me, Danni, have you dated much?”

Good Lord, could he tell she was a rookie? Was she that bad at first dates? She’d almost choked on her water.

Eric continued. “You didn’t leave me waiting on the couch in your apartment. You haven’t asked one hypothetical question, and no coy hair flip.”

“Coy hair flip?” she asked, very curious.

“You sort of toss your hair over your shoulder and look at me from the corner of your eye.”

As long as he was passing out pointers, she’d give it a try. Danni rotated her shoulders and tossed her hair, never breaking eye contact. “Like this?”

The smile had left his face. “Uh. Exactly like that.”

His words were slow, deeper than before. Serious heat burned in his brown eyes.

Maybe corporate was the ticket. No musician had ever looked at her this way. Like he wouldn’t mind completely crashing the table between them. And yes, right on schedule, there were the nerves.

Get it together. She couldn’t let him get the upper hand. Playing it light should work. Don’t make it mean much.

“I have to admit, I haven’t dated a lot,” she told him, her finger tracing the rim of her glass. She met his gaze. “So tell me more of what I should be doing.”

Eric glanced at his watch. “Well, right about now, you’re telling me what big muscles I have.”

Danni laughed. “So that’s what girls normally do then, huh?”

“Yes. Along with wondering how quickly you can get me out of my pants.”

Hmm, there was charm. That was bad. Sweet talkers, aka charmers were off her list. But they were so…charming. She’d never associated corporate with charming before. They were supposed to be solid, not whimsical, certainly not witty.

“I thought it was the man who was supposed to be wondering how to get me out of my pants.”

But Eric just smiled, as if he had it all figured out.

The rest of their meal followed a predictable pattern of weather, sports and stuff. She never grew bored though. Her dad had always insisted suits were dull. He believed the nine-to-five life was a drag, and that Flynns were not cut out for the ordinary.

Too soon they’d paid the check and were strolling to the parking lot, toward his car for him to take her home.

Although Danni had limited experience with first dates, she could figure out that him wanting to take her home immediately was not a good sign.

“So that’s how first dates go,” she said.

“They can,” he replied, his voice filled with promise.

“What does that mean?” she asked glancing up. Man, oh man, he was great to look at. She’d kind of avoided it for most of the evening because she knew her eyes would probably want to eat him up like she had that chocolate cheesecake.

“Well, a first date can end here. Or maybe I can say something like, ‘Danni, since I’m new in town and don’t know what I can do in Reno for fun, do you have any ideas?’”

Danni laughed at his suddenly formal and stiff tone. Yes, that’s how she pictured a first date with a corporate suit kind of guy.

“And then you can say…” he prompted.

Fine, Danni understood now how this game worked. She wasn’t usually so slow on the uptake, but she chalked it up to her being distracted by his broad shoulders. Or the amazing way he smelled. Or the considerate way he adjusted his longer stride to her shorter steps.

She cleared her throat. “I can say, ‘Eric, you haven’t lived in Reno if you haven’t bowled.’”

The stiffness in Eric’s formal posture vanished and he laughed. “Bowling? Are you serious?”

“Hey, in Reno we take our bowling very seriously. And you’re no one in Reno if you haven’t bowled at least a frame in the Taj Majal of Tenpin.”

“And that would be here…in Reno?”

“Right. The National Bowling Stadium.”

At the car, Eric held the door open for her, but blocked her entrance. She turned to face him. His smile was so sexy it hurt to look at. “This I have to see.”

If she hadn’t been truly aware of the broadness of his shoulders or the strength that simply oozed from him before, she was conscious of it now. Bigness was an angle some con men used to intimidate a mark, so usually she was immune and it certainly never impressed.

But Eric’s imposing size made her want to be enfolded in his arms. Feel the strength of him as he pulled her close. Run her fingers along the hard lines of his chest.

He stepped back, his hand seeking hers as he helped her into the front seat, his fingers lightly caressing her hand, arm, shoulder as she slipped into the seat. There was one of those shivers again. Danni had to refrain from fanning her face after Eric shut the passenger door.

The bright lights and the silver plated bowling ball of the National Bowling Stadium soon greeted them. “Never thought I’d see a bowling alley lit up like a casino,” Eric said as he angled into a space.

“I told you we take our bowling seriously. Wait until you get inside. You have your choice. You can take the escalator or the glass elevator to the fourth floor.”

“By all means, we should take the elevator.”

As they stepped off the elevator, Eric let out a low whistle. “You were right. It’s impressive.”

Over seventy lanes stretched before them. “It’s longer than a football field.”

Large video screens displaying scores and graphics stood out predominantly. The smell of oil and the sound of pins hitting the wood surrounded them as they rented some shoes and chose a lane.

“Are you a good bowler?” he asked as they each picked up a ball and checked for the appropriate weight.

“My dad always took an interest in bowling. One of his first jobs was to manually set up pins and send the balls back. The ball returns here over thirty miles an hour.”

“Your dad live in Reno?”

Grrr. Why had she mentioned her father? She immediately felt a tension between her and Eric at the mere reference to him. All on her part of course, but surely he could feel it, too.

She shook her head. “No, he never visits here. Stop stalling, you ready?” she asked, infusing breeziness into her voice.