His Million Dollar Risk

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His Million Dollar Risk Page 5

by Bielman, Robin


  “Not bad?”

  She gave him a simple shrug. “Some fantasies just don’t live up to the reality.”

  Was she shitting him? No way had he been the only one to feel that kiss. “Just like some expectations are poorly fulfilled.”

  Her eyes widened as the ride swept by the ground and rose again. “Is that supposed to be some comment on my kissing?”

  “It wasn’t bad.”

  Connor watched her fight a smile, but she couldn’t do it. And Christ, even a small, happy turn of her lips knotted his stomach. “Good to know,” she said good-naturedly.

  He fought his own grin. The woman could take as easily as she gave.

  The ride took two more laps before stopping to let off riders. When it got to be their turn to exit, Connor said, “Go again?”

  Charlie shook her head. “I think I’m okay.”

  She was better than okay, but he kept that to himself. He glanced at his watch as they walked down the rickety wooden ramp. Dirt kicked up under their shoes when they got to the bottom and Charlie headed toward the game booths.

  “If you’re going to keep looking at the time, then go do something else while I play my game. I’ll meet you at the car after I’ve won something.”

  “What do you want to win?”

  “That.” She pointed to a young girl holding a jumbo stuffed brown teddy bear bigger than she was.

  He scanned the area and found the prize at the balloon-and-dart game. Goldilocks must have seen it too because she hurried in that direction.

  “You good with darts?” he asked, handing over five bucks to the attendant before she could dig any money out of her bag.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  The guy handed her three darts. According to the rules posted on a painted red sign, she had to go three for three to win the grand prize.

  “How hard can it be?” She took one of the small arrows in her hand and bent her wrist back and forth in apparent warm up.

  Connor bit back a grin. He’d bet money she had no idea how to throw a dart.

  And was proven correct when she not only missed on all three tries, but on the last one, somehow managed to sail the dart into the next booth.

  “Okay, so maybe it’s a little harder than it looks,” she said.

  She tried again. And again. His foot started tapping. It took her forever in between throws and she’d yet to hit one balloon.

  After a few more unsuccessful attempts, he pulled out one last five. “Let me help this time.”

  Without giving her a chance to veto his assistance, which he felt pretty sure sat on the tip of her mind-blowing tongue, he moved behind her. She tensed for a minute before letting out a breath and relaxing. He put his left hand on her hip and guided her right arm with his into the throwing position.

  “Keep the dart stable and parallel to the ground,” he said, slipping the dart into her hand and waiting for her to get steady. His hand cupped hers, her soft, warm skin a nice fit. “Now try to keep a light grip, letting only the tips of your fingers touch the dart. Yeah, like that.”

  God, her hair smelled good. He took a long, silent inhale.

  “Connor?”

  Shit. He lifted his chin. “Throw the dart in one smooth, fluid motion. Don’t flick it at the balloon. And you don’t need to hurl it with much force to make it stick to the board.”

  “Okay.”

  “Also, follow through with your hand. That way the dart won’t fly left or right.”

  “Got it.” Her whispery, sexy voice had him wanting to give it to her all right.

  Pop.

  Pop.

  Pop.

  She spun around and flung her arms around his neck. “We did it!” After a quick kiss to his cheek, she twisted to point at one of the bears hanging on the wall of the booth. “I’d like that one please.”

  He’d like the small tug on his heart to stop. Goldilocks might be captivating and appeal to every one of his urges, but he didn’t really know all that much about her. And, he reminded himself, being a reporter meant she couldn’t be trusted. She’d made no promises about the article and goddammit, he’d gotten way more personal than he’d planned. There was always the possibility she’d take his words out of context or share something private. Especially when she worked for a man as loathsome as Thomas Beckett.

  Chapter Five

  Sometimes the truth sucked. And so sometimes it was better to lie than face the brutal reality that the guy who had offered to help with a little fantasy kissed waaaayyyy better than the faceless man in a girl’s dreams. Charlie had kissed a lot of guys. And Connor’s kiss had been the best ever. Ever, ever, ever.

  Pulling away from him had been painful. Looking into those incredible eyes of his, tingles had covered every inch of her skin, spending extra time between her thighs, and if they’d gone for a second ride, she might have begged him to touch her there to put her out of her misery.

  Not very respectable of her.

  It was bad enough her father wouldn’t be happy with her once he found out she’d done the interview this week. But if he also found out that she’d engaged in anything unprofessional, Charlie could kiss any regard she might get from him good-bye.

  And now she was back to The Kiss.

  Thinking of it as an event really didn’t do her any good.

  She glanced over at Connor asleep in the passenger seat. Last night they’d stayed at a little motel and the shower in his room had had a leak. The dripping kept him up all night and he’d looked so tired this morning that Charlie volunteered to drive for a while.

  Skepticism had crossed his handsome face for a minute and she knew her taking the wheel didn’t fit with his plans. So she rock-paper-scissored him—winner drove. No one beat her at the hand job—game! Oh my God, she’d meant to think “hand game.” Not recall the wicked dreams about Connor that had kept her up for half the night.

  This morning when she’d asked why he hadn’t just switched rooms, he said he hadn’t wanted her caught unaware of a room change if she’d woken and unexpectedly needed him for something.

  She let out a happy sigh and glanced in the rearview mirror at the giant teddy bear sitting in the backseat. Connor Gibson was difficult to figure out. One minute he seemed wary of her and the next more at ease. She got the impression he wanted to relax but didn’t know how.

  His rattling off everything that stayed off the record when they’d said good night contrasted with the consideration in his words this morning.

  They’d been driving for a couple of hours, the highway quiet between stretches of barren land that changed to rugged scenery when they drove through mountain areas.

  In the distance, her eye kept wandering to a field. As they got closer, she slowed, trying to figure out what the massive, symmetrical landscape could be. It looked like some sort of white flower. Whatever it was, it called to her, and since Connor had his eyes closed she decided to pull off the freeway to investigate.

  “Where are we?” he asked the second she slowed at the bottom of the off-ramp, his voice a little sleepy, a lot tempting.

  “Just wanted to check something out really quick.”

  He straightened and looked out the passenger window. She eyed the stubble along his jawline.

  “Charlie.” He turned his head. “Did you stay on the highway like I told you to?”

  “Um… I think so.” She sucked in her bottom lip before making a right turn and then another down a small street. The field stood just up ahead on the left.

  “You think so?”

  “Well, there was one freeway interchange that I noticed after I’d passed through.”

  “And you didn’t think to check with me?” His tone stayed even but that sexy jaw of his clenched.

  “I didn’t want to wake you.” She drew her brows into regret even though she wasn’t at all sorry. “You think I went the wrong way?”

  “I know you went the wrong way.” His head fell back against the seat, chin raised, eyelashe
s sweeping down to close his eyes.

  “Well, if I hadn’t, we wouldn’t get to see this.” She made a U-turn and parked in a patch of dirt on the side of the road. “It’s a giant field of…dandelions! Come on.”

  She hopped out of the car and rounded the hood. Thousands, millions of the tiny Make-A-Wish flowers stood at attention just waiting for someone to traipse through their florets. Charlie slipped out of her shoes and took a tentative step into the fluffy white carpet.

  Connor put a hand on her arm. “There’s a path right there.” He nodded to a narrow walkway.

  “Oh. Thanks.”

  He shook his head. No doubt he thought her oblivious as well as forgetful. She grinned at him and the weirdest thing happened. Any hint of annoyance vanished, and his face lighted with dare she guess, pleasure?

  The pit of her stomach whirled like a windmill. She twisted and skipped over to the path. When he let down his defenses and looked at her like that, it took everything she had not to hurl herself at him.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this,” she said, stepping between the dandelions.

  “I haven’t either.” He followed behind her, close enough that his warm breath fanned the back of her neck. She wiggled her shoulders and pulled the clip out of her hair so it covered her exposed skin. The tiny defense would have to do for now.

  They walked in pleasant silence, sunshine and blue sky painted at the edge of the field that appeared to stretch for miles. She stopped and bent down to pick a dandelion.

  Connor’s tall frame cast a shadow over her.

  She glanced up. “You need to get down here.”

  “I need to?” He stayed put.

  Her eye rolls were becoming habit with him—especially since she’d noticed it got a little rise out of him. She got comfortable on her knees, then took his hand and tugged.

  He obliged her request with a grunt that had her picturing him as a little boy and doing something he didn’t want to do.

  “Now pick a flower.”

  “Someone woke up on the bossy side of the bed this morning.” He put his hands on his knees.

  Her mind went to waking up beside him, his side of the bed where she wanted to be. Hands, mouth, body, on his, no space between them. Skin to skin. Her cheeks heated. She canted her head down. “Just don’t want you to miss out.” She pointed to a large stem. “That looks like a good one.”

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve blown on one of these.” He picked the one she suggested. “My sister, Amanda, used to tell me if I didn’t get all the florets in one breath then my wish wouldn’t come true.”

  Charlie brought her dandelion to her mouth. “I’ve heard that, too. But this happens to be something I’ve done a lot and it’s easy. Just take a deep breath, put your lips together, and blow.” She closed her eyes and blew. When she lifted her lids, she found him watching her.

  Or rather, watching her mouth. She let go of the flower stem and swallowed.

  “I’m thinking those lips of yours could make any man’s wish come true.” His gaze hopped up and they stared at each other for a long beat. “So…” He held the dandelion in between them. “You blow and I’ll make a wish.”

  “O-okay.” She leaned forward and angled her head to the side so she didn’t blow straight into his face. “On the count of three. One. Two. Three.”

  …

  Connor didn’t believe in making wishes. He believed in hard work. Determination. Having a plan and sticking with it until he got the results he wanted. But Goldilocks had him remembering how a dream could go a long way toward influencing purpose. His mom told him all the time while growing up that if he kept hope alive and well in the back of his mind, all his accomplishments would be worth something.

  Seeing Charlie, so beautiful and carefree, he pictured her with a dandelion stem between her teeth and a hand between her thighs and he wanted to lay her back and ruin her for any other man. He’d never met anyone more genuine. More present. And one smile from her had him forgiving how far off course they were.

  “Did you make a wish?” she asked, breaking into his musings.

  “Uh, yeah.” Her naked. Soon. He’d been helpless to stop the thought.

  “Want to make another? There’s no limit, you know.” She plucked another dandelion.

  “I’m good. And we need to get moving.” Before he stripped her bare and gave the dandelions a show they’d never forget. “I’m supposed to be at Las Mundas…” He glanced at his watch. “Now, actually.”

  Charlie scrunched up her nose. “Sorry.”

  “Hey, like you said, if we’d gone in the right direction, we wouldn’t have seen this.” He stood. “Dandelion fields are hard to come by. This is the first one I’ve come across.”

  “Thanks to me.” Goldilocks blew on the flower in her hand and got to her feet. She wiped at the dirt on her knees like it was no big deal.

  A girl who didn’t mind getting dirty. Despite a high-profile gig for Natural World, she didn’t take herself too seriously.

  “I truly am sorry, though. Sometimes I’m a little too spur-of-the-moment and this really isn’t the right time.”

  Unthinking, he brushed a strand of hair off her face. “Don’t sweat it. Keys?” he said, putting out his palm.

  “Oh crap.” She patted her hips. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. If she’d locked the keys in the car, they’d waste more time waiting for a locksmith. And in the middle of nowhere who knew how long it would take. “I guess we’ll…” he started to say, but stopped after he’d opened his eyes and found the keys dangling from Charlie’s hand.

  She wore a grin almost as big as the one she’d blessed him with when she won the giant teddy bear. “Just kidding.”

  “You are so going down for that.” He grabbed the keys and headed back to the road. “When you least expect it,” he added over his shoulder.

  “I’m shaking in my shoes,” she called out.

  “You’re not wearing any.”

  “Exactly.”

  Damn, he liked this girl.

  They got back into the car, and it took Connor a minute to figure out they were about sixty miles off track. He silently cursed, but it was only a small curse. The detour had been worth it to see the joy on Charlie’s face. She filled him with joy.

  “Will we see any giant dinosaurs today?” she asked once they’d hit the highway.

  He chuckled. “As opposed to miniature dinosaurs?”

  She pushed him in the arm. “I mean those roadside dinosaurs with cheesy gift shops. There’s a couple on the way to Palm Springs and I’ve stopped on every weekend trip I’ve taken there. It’s sort of a tradition.”

  “Well, we wouldn’t want to mess with tradition, but no, there aren’t any on this stretch.”

  “But there are some on the Route?”

  “Yes.” And damn if he didn’t want to take another detour and show them to her. What was wrong with him? “You’re from California?”

  “Yes.” She pulled out her notepad and tape recorder. “Tell me about Las Mundas.”

  “I’d rather you be surprised.” The unique garden filled with surrealist sculptures was best viewed without any preconceived notions.

  “Okay, how about some facts about the route that people might not know.”

  “In the 1950s it became known as America’s ‘Mother Road.’”

  “What else?”

  He shared more interesting facts and watched as she jotted down notes. He also noticed her sketch some doodles. A cartoon drawing of a car. Dandelions. The iconic Route 66 road sign. As he talked, her pencil didn’t stop moving.

  “Do you have a favorite spot on the Route?” She closed her notebook, turned off the recorder, and stowed them back in the bag at her feet.

  “Yes, and we’re almost there.”

  “I’m glad I’ll get to see it.” She smiled in the direction of her knees and gathered her hair haphazardly into a clip.

>   Connor wanted his lips on the sprinkling of freckles at the curve of her collarbone.

  “Besides Palm Springs, did you do much traveling growing up?”

  She fidgeted in her seat. “Some. But not to anywhere that made a lasting impression. No favorite places I have to go back to.”

  “You live in LA?”

  “Yep.”

  “Favorite place there?”

  Goldilocks gave another coy, closed-mouth smile. She moved her attention out the windshield. “It’s sort of personal.”

  “I’ll keep it off the record then.” So much about her intrigued him. He wanted to know more.

  Her gaze slid his way. He beamed at her. Two could play the reporter game.

  “My favorite place is this children’s bookstore and art gallery not far from where I live. I visit at least once a week and once a month I volunteer for story-time readings. I’ll often end up there on Friday nights.” She rubbed a finger across her bottom lip and shook her head. “I can’t believe I just told you that. Only my closest friends know I hang out there.”

  “Why?” He didn’t see the big deal in hanging out in a bookstore. His pretty reporter liked kids and probably grew up with her nose in a book. He found it sexy.

  “I’m actually a pretty private person.”

  “I’m easy to talk to.”

  “You think?” Sarcasm laced her words.

  So he hadn’t been the easiest person to get along with the past few days. He planned to change that. She’d peeled away his apprehension about the article and the only concern busting into his thoughts now was going further than a kiss.

  In truth, most women put on such a show with him that he’d learned to tune them out. Conversation always centered on superficial crap and lies by the mouthful to get close to his family and bank account. The one time in college he thought he’d met a girl who really cared about him had been a big mistake. She’d lied about her past and her hometown because she thought he wanted someone with a background like his. She’d wanted to sound more country club than trailer park.

  “My sisters used me all the time to go over the speeches in their heads for their boyfriends.”

  Goldilocks laughed. “Did you offer any words of wisdom?”

 

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