Taking A Shot (9 page)

“And the media will be right behind you, waiting for you to get into a fistfight or some new scandal that’ll make headlines. The new bad boy of football.”

Cole shrugged, then grinned, the dimples in his cheeks doing nothing to diminish his rugged good looks. No wonder the media loved him.

“Hey, not my fault I’m photogenic.”

“Yeah, your mug shot was charming. I’m sure Uncle Jack and Aunt Cara were thrilled with that.”

“That was bullshit. And I’ve got great attorneys, and that was thrown out of court.”

She shook her head. “It pays to make money, I suppose, but you’re pushing thirty now, party boy. Isn’t it time to grow up?”

He laughed. “Just call me Peter Pan. It’ll never be time to grow up.”

She waved him off with a shake of her head. Cole was trouble with a capital T. Great football player, but he did like his social life. Maybe a bit too much.

She grabbed a glass of champagne and was watching Gavin and Liz and Mick and Tara dance when she felt a warm presence behind her.

“You’re not dancing.”

Tyler. She’d successfully managed to avoid him for the past couple hours. She turned to face him.

Oh, did he ever clean up nice. Dressed in a black suit and tie that fit him as if it had been tailored for him, his dark hair spilled over the collar, making her want to sift her fingers through it to see if it was as soft as it looked.

“No, not dancing.”

“Who was the guy you were hanging out with? Your date?”

She frowned, then realized he was referring to Cole. She laughed.
“No, that was Cole Riley, my cousin. You might recognize him from the Green Bay team. He plays wide receiver.”

Tyler nodded. “Thought he looked familiar. You Rileys like to breed the sports players, don’t you?”

“You have no idea.”

“So where’s your date?”

Refusing to rise to the bait, she said, “Didn’t bring one tonight.”

He cocked a brow. “Oh, you have more than one?”

She didn’t answer.

“How about a dance?” he asked.

“Where’s
your
date?”

“Didn’t bring one tonight.”

Her lips curved at the ditto. The music was hot and she wanted to dance. She’d had more than a little champagne tonight, and she felt good. So good, in fact, she tingled all the way down to her toes. Tonight was all about magic and romance. Not that there was any romance between her and Ty. But there was chemistry and he was the hottest guy here, so she might as well dance with the devil she knew.

“Sure. Let’s do it.”

Ty hadn’t expected Jenna to say yes.

He thought the guy she was talking to was her date. He was relieved to find out it was her cousin Cole. When he found out she hadn’t brought a date tonight, he got his game plan in order to get her on the dance floor, or get her alone. One way or another, he was determined to have her in his arms tonight, figuring he’d have to do some fancy maneuvering.

For it to be this easy? Hell yeah. He took her hand and led her onto the crowded floor, then watched her groove to the beat of some seriously hot dance music.

Jenna looked beautiful tonight in a red dress that clung to every curve of her body—a body she knew how to move. He wanted to put
his hands on her, to feel her move like that without clothes on. She swayed her hips and pivoted around, and his dick twitched when she shook her ass. She got into the music, raised her hands in the air, undulating her body in time to the beat.

He inched up closer to her, fit his body against her, wrapped his arm around her waist, and rocked with her to the music, expecting her to kick him back. Instead, she put her arm around his and let her head fall against his chest. He inhaled her scent and tried to keep up with her since he wasn’t much of a dancer, but hell, he was happy to let her take the lead since she obviously knew what she was doing.

When she turned around, she slung her arm around his neck and pressed her body against his, rocking her hips against him.

She had to notice he was getting hard. But she drew closer and ground against him.

To torture him, no doubt to get back at him for showing up at the bar and hitting on her all the time. But her gaze met his, her clear blue eyes not filled with anger, only interest.

And when the music slowed to something sexy, she didn’t push off and walk away, so he took her hand in his, slid his arm around her back, and drew her in close.

He should probably say something to her, but he didn’t want to break the spell. If he spoke, she might actually remember who she was dancing with, so he stayed quiet, content to breathe in the vanilla scent that seemed to always be part of her. He stroked his hand along the top of her back. Her skin was soft.

She tilted her head back and looked up at him. “You’re quiet.”

“I was afraid if I said anything you’d leave.”

She arched a brow. “Why would I do that?”

“You don’t like me.”

Her lips curved into a smile. “I never said I didn’t like you.”

He arched a brow.

“Okay, I might have given you that impression. But the music’s nice, and you feel good.”

“You feel pretty good, too. Mind if we stay on the dance floor all night?”

She giggled and laid her head on his chest. “All right by me, but these shoes have to go. My feet are killing me.”

He stopped. “Take them off.”

She nodded. “Good idea.” She slipped her shoes off one by one, and handed them to him. He held them by their straps, deciding any woman who’d wear heels this high had to have some kind of death wish.

“How do women walk in these things?”

“It’s in our genetics. It’s why women are the master species. We give birth and we can walk in heels.”

He laughed. “No wonder your feet hurt.” She slid into his arms again and they continued to dance. The deejay was nice enough to play another slow song. He’d have to remember to tip the guy.

“The wedding was nice.”

She grinned. “It was. My brother and Tara are happy. They went through hell to get here, so they deserve it.”

He didn’t much believe in the whole happily-ever-after thing, but for some people, he supposed, it worked. He really hoped it worked forever for Mick and Tara, especially since there was a kid already involved. Tyler knew better than anyone what could happen to a teenager when what you thought was a happy family dissolved in front of you. “Yeah, I hope it lasts for them.”

“It will. They’ve already been through all the rough stuff. The rest of forever will be easy.”

He kept his thoughts to himself. No sense in bursting her bubble. She probably believed in knights in shining armor, rescued princesses, and fairy tale endings.

And love being enough to solve any problem.

All a bunch of bullshit. He didn’t buy into any of it. Right now was what counted, and grabbing whatever you could while you had it. Because nothing lasted.

Including the song, and holding Jenna in his arms. The deejay cranked it up to something fast after that.

“Thanks for the dance,” Jenna said. “I’m ready for a drink.”

“Me, too.”

Instead of walking away, she took his hand. “I know a shortcut to the bar.”

She didn’t ask for her shoes, so he held on to them and let her lead him to the bar. He found them two seats and ordered two drinks. He wanted soda, while Jenna ordered another glass of champagne.

She crossed her legs and the slit along the side of her dress parted, revealing an amazing length of slender thigh. Used to seeing her in blue jeans and T-shirts, Tyler looked his fill, then leaned against the bar to take a drink.

“No champagne for you?” she asked.

“Not my kind of drink.”

She smirked.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just remembered something I said to the girls one night about guys and their choices of drinks.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

She shook her head. “Can’t tell you. Bartender trade secret.”

He could imagine. “I’ll bet you can tell all about a guy from what he drinks.”

She frowned and laid her glass on the bar. “You think so?”

“Bartenders have keen insight. So what would you say about me?”

“You like whiskey, neat. Though sometimes you’ll drink beer. That means you’re independent, not easy to pin down. You like your freedom, but you’re not pretentious. No expensive champagne for you. You don’t like to show off, but you are choosy—no, wait. That’s
not the right word. Particular. That’s better. You’re particular. You aren’t going to pick up just any girl. She has to be the right girl.”

“You know all that just from the drinks I order?”

She took a sip of champagne. “Yes. And you also don’t pick up women in my bar.”

“Maybe because I’m waiting for you.”

She tilted her head back and laughed, that sound he loved hearing. “You’re so full of shit, Ty. I like that about you.”

He liked listening to her talk. She had a sharp mind, and seeing the gears of it working got him as hard as seeing her move on the dance floor. “You think you know me, huh?”

“Actually, I don’t think I know you at all. Most men are easy to peg. You I haven’t figured out yet.”

He took a couple swallows of soda. “I’m glad. I’d hate to be predictable.”

“You’re anything but predictable. You annoy me. You like me, and you obviously want me, and you make no secret of that. I like that, because I don’t much care for games. On the other hand, I don’t want you to like me. I want you to go away and leave me alone so I can stop thinking about you.”

He grinned. She was just a little drunk, which meant she was relaxed enough to spill more of her inner thoughts than she was aware of. Which meant this was his opportunity to take things a step further with her, if he played the game right.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, either, Jenna.”

She leaned her elbows against the bar. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you think about when you think about me?”

This was a test. She was putting him on the spot to see if he was just bullshitting her.

Actually, he wasn’t.

“I think about your mouth.” He traced her bottom lip with his
thumb. “I like what comes out of it when you talk to me. It’s sassy and smart. And I sure as hell liked kissing it. It’s soft and wet and you yield under me like you want what I’ve got.”

Her chest rose and fell.

“I like the way you talk. Confident, but you’re a bit of a smart-ass. I like that about you, too. It means you’re not a pushover. I don’t want a woman I can walk all over. I want a woman who can stand up for herself.”

She licked her bottom lip. Damn distracting and he needed to focus on what he wanted to say to her.

“You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. And you see a lot with them. You call people on their bullshit, and obviously you know men.”

“Yeah? In what way?”

“You know who’s true and who’s full of shit. You aren’t going to fall for a line.”

She let out a soft laugh.

“I like these.” He swept his knuckles over the many earrings in her left ear, then leaned in close. “Are you pierced anywhere else, Jenna? I spend nights thinking about it.”

Her eyes went dark. Interest or desire? He wasn’t sure.

“And your tattoos. Those turn me on.” He cupped her wrist and caressed the tattoo of the earth, moon, and stars. “It makes me want to get you naked and explore your body. So, yeah, I think about you a lot, Jenna.”

“I don’t want to date you, Ty. I’ve told you before, you’re the wrong type of guy for me.”

“So you’ve said.”

She inhaled, let it out. “The problem is, there’s this thing.”

“A thing.”

“Yeah. A chemistry thing, between you and me. And it’s interfering when I go out with other guys.”

Oh, this was getting good. “A chemistry thing.”

“Sex.”

“Sex.” He shook his head. “Yeah, that’s a problem.” He brushed his shoulder against hers. He understood the chemistry thing. Just being near her made his dick spring to life.

She turned in the chair to face him. “It is. What should we do about that?”

“I don’t think sex is a problem for me, Jenna. You already know how I feel. The question is, what do you want to do about it?”

She slid her fingertip down the lapel of his jacket, the look she gave him burning him from the inside out.

Yeah, definite chemistry. He was surprised flames weren’t sparking between them. His breathing quickened and if she didn’t make a decision soon he was going to have to make a quick exit, because this woman was driving him crazy.