“Actually, I’d really like to get to know you better,” she said.
Was there an innuendo in her tone? Or was that wishful thinking?
Damn. The woman had him tied up in knots.
“All right,” he said, keeping his tone casual. “What do you have in mind?”
She once again ran her hand over the pool table’s surface. “How about a game?”
“Of pool?”
She nodded. “Do you play?”
“Sure.”
“All right. Then we’ll rack ‘em up and play some eight ball. Whenever someone misses a shot, the other person gets to ask them a question that they have to answer. If someone scratches the cue ball or sinks one of the opponent’s balls, they have to answer two questions.”
“I’m intrigued,” he said. “Let’s do it.”
She walked over to the pool cues and studied them with a discerning eye before choosing one from the rack. It told him he was in for a solid match. Once he followed suit, they removed the rack from around the balls already set on the table.
“Why don’t you break?” he offered.
“My pleasure.”
She moved over to the head of the table and leaned over, lining her stick up for the shot. When she did, it gave him a teasing glimpse down the front of her blouse. Scarlet lace peeked at him where it cupped the rounded globes of her breasts. Just the hint of her cleavage had him adjusting his stance to get more comfortable.
Even though her eyes didn’t lift from the cue ball, her lips curved in a way that told him she was perfectly aware of where his attention had drifted.
So that’s how it was going to be, was it?
Well, game on.
She delivered an impressive break, sending balls scattering. Solids sank first, leaving him with stripes. One other solid and a stripe also dropped into the pockets on the break. She managed to get two more of her balls in the pocket before missing, leaving her with three.
“Okay,” she said with a wave of her hand. “What’ve you got for me?”
He considered asking something of a deeply personal or sexual nature, then dismissed those ideas. Roxy seemed like someone who wanted to have fun. He could keep things on the lighter side for now.
“What is something about yourself that very few people know?” he asked.
“Oooh…good one. Let’s see.” She snapped her fingers. “I can skateboard.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’m pretty good at it, too.”
Somehow that didn’t surprise him. “Very interesting.”
On his turn, he sank three of his balls before missing, tying the game. He turned to Roxy for her question.
“Have you thought of me since we met at Nightscape?” she asked.
“Yes.”
His immediate response made her smile. “I’ll spare you a question and share that I’ve thought of you, too.”
He almost said something automatic like, “Of course you have,” a self-confident response that probably would have gotten a flirtatious laugh out of one of his usual dates. But Roxy wouldn’t be impressed by lines like that. Hell, he could see her using something like it herself under the right circumstances.
“Glad to hear it,” he said instead.
She took her turn, once again bending over the table and giving him a torturous glimpse of the curves hidden by her clothes. Even though he knew she was doing it on purpose, well aware of his attraction to her, he struggled for control. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so turned on with such little effort. His entire body felt charged by the sexual energy that radiated from her.
This time she sank two of her last three balls, then sank one of his when the cue ball hit an unlucky bank off the side.
“Damn,” she said.
He clapped his hands together and rubbed them in anticipation. “Two questions coming your way.”
A knock on the door interrupted them. Roxy set her cue aside as he opened the door to allow a server inside. The server wheeled a linen-covered cart topped with a domed entrée platter, a display holding an assortment of shot glass desserts, a couple of serving plates, napkins, and utensils.
The server lifted the adjustable cocktail table so it was at standard table height, then set everything up and made sure they had everything they needed.
“Is there anything I can get you before I leave?” the server asked.
“Everything looks great,” Callan said, pulling a couple bills from his wallet and extending them towards the server. “Thanks.”
The server’s eyes widened at the cash. Holding up his hands, he said, “That’s not necessary, sir. We have your card on file. You can add the gratuity there and it goes to the entire team.”
“Yeah, but this is just for you, my man. Not the government,” Callan said with a wink. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure the taxable stuff includes a tip, too.”
That was enough to convince the server, whose smile was now as wide as his eyes. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.”
The server moved as though he was going to bow but stopped himself in time. He did an awkward form of salute instead and hurried from the room, stuffing the cash into his pocket as he walked.
Callan turned the sound system on, filling the room with the same music currently playing throughout the bar but at a more controlled volume. Then he took his seat across from Roxy in front of the table. She had already removed the dome from the huge pile of nachos and picked up a plate.
“It must be nice to make someone’s whole week like that,” she said as she scooped some nachos onto her plate.
The words were spoken casually…no envy or judgment. That eased the instinctive defensiveness that rose within him.
“I like to recognize hard work,” he said, using his fork to add a big pile of nachos to his own plate.
“That’s nice. People in food service and retail rarely get the recognition they deserve.”
It sounded like she knew that from experience. “Did you used to work in food service or retail?”
She swallowed the bite she had taken and countered with, “Is that the first of your two questions?”
He chewed his own bite and grinned at her. “Seriously? All right. Sure. That’s question one.”
She nodded. “I’ve worked in both retail and food service. They’re probably the most difficult jobs in the world, even for someone like me who generally likes people.”
The comment rang true. His only job had been playing hockey, but from what he’d experienced from the consumer end, he didn’t think he was cut out for either food service or retail. He’d likely bodycheck half of the people he was supposed to serve.
“What other jobs have you had?” When she lifted an eyebrow, he rolled his eyes and said, “Yes, that’s question number two.”
“All right. Prepare yourself, Mr. Hockey.”
He grinned at that. “Mr. Hockey’s the nickname for Gordie Howe, one of the best hockey players who ever took the ice.”
“You don’t say?”
Something told him she already knew that. He wasn’t sure whether he was more flattered or turned on that she was making that comparison.
It took the entire rest of their meal for her to finish telling him about the many varied jobs she had performed from the time she turned sixteen. She had dipped a toe into nearly every industry, from welding and plumbing to accounting and medical coding. Several of those jobs had taken her to places around the world he’d never been, and he considered himself well traveled.