Looking for Trouble

by Victoria Dahl

  “Do I look like I work at a museum, Mr. Bishop?”

  He used her question as an excuse to look her up and down again. The little button-down dress kept her all covered up, but the black sweater hugged her narrow waist, emphasizing that there were hips beneath it. Very nice female hips that made the skirt flare out a little. “Yeah. You do. But a museum I’d really love to come visit.”

  Yes, she was definitely flirting. Her mouth stretched to a pleased smile. “Really? What about visiting the library? I try not to judge, but you don’t look like the kind of guy who hangs out in libraries too often.”

  A librarian? Shit. An honest-to-goodness small-town librarian? Alex had to tamp down the wolfish grin that wanted to take over his face. This girl was adorable. And her gaze was now touching brightly on his bike. She’d probably never been on a motorcycle. Maybe she wanted to find out what it was like.

  He quickly checked her ring finger and saw no evidence of commitment. “Want a ride?”

  Her eyes sparkled as they moved over the bike again, but she shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “Come on. The bike’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  Her eyes still roamed over the gleaming chrome frame before they moved right over to him and all the way up his body. She studied his face for a moment, looking straight into his eyes without any shyness at all. Then she sighed with what sounded like genuine regret. “No. I can’t. A strange man inviting me for a ride? What kind of girl do you think I am?”

  Damn. Alex had no idea what kind of girl she was...except that she was the kind of girl who said something like that with a tiny smile on her face. Jesus.

  “Sophie...” he started, but she shook her head.

  “It was a pleasure to meet you.” She slipped her hand into his again and shook it.

  “Meet me somewhere for a drink? Dinner? I owe you something to make up for the rest of my family.”

  “Oh, you owe me?” One eyebrow arched in an enticing challenge.

  “Obviously. I don’t know what she’s done, but you’re clearly fed up. And if you meet me somewhere, you won’t have to worry about getting on the back of a bike with a strange man.”

  Her eyes flickered to the bike again. She wanted a ride. Badly.

  She closed her eyes and shook her head. “No. People will talk.”

  “People will talk?” This girl really was living in a time warp.

  “Yes, they’ll...” She seemed to catch herself and crossed her arms, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

  Alex ran a hand over his shaved head. “You mean because of how I look? The bike and the tattoos and—?”

  “The tattoos?” She looked him over quickly, a flick of the eyes, as if she could see beneath his jacket if she looked hard enough. Hell, all she had to do was ask nicely. But she hadn’t asked. Yet.

  He watched her swallow as if her mouth had gone dry. Lust crawled down his belly.

  He’d asked her to dinner out of curiosity, but now... Now he really wanted to take this girl out. “We’ll go someplace quiet,” he said, leaning a little closer. “And I promise not to tell.”

  She looked away, gazing down the street. He was sure she was about to offer a cool “No,” but then she looked up the street, as well. She wasn’t avoiding his gaze, she was checking to see who was watching.

  “I’m meeting my girlfriends for dinner.”

  “And after?” he dared, hearing a hint of acquiescence in her voice.

  “After,” she murmured, then her eyes rose to meet his. “There’s a big tourist place up the block. The Bucking Bronco.”

  “I know it,” he said quickly.

  “I’ll meet you for one drink. At the upstairs bar.”

  Alex raised an eyebrow. She was serious about not being seen. No local would ever set foot in that overpriced, mediocre tourist trap of a restaurant. “When?”

  “Around ten-thirty?” she suggested.

  “Sure,” he said, thinking even as he said it that she wouldn’t show. She’d chicken out. And that was fine. Because she couldn’t take away the sight of her cute green skirt swinging around her ass as she walked away.

  A little librarian to take his mind off his family and their bullshit. Sometimes life was damn surprising.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SHE COULDN’T MEET him. She’d made a terrible mistake agreeing to do it. Her dark, reckless side had pushed her into a stupid impulse. It wanted a ride on that bike, but he was one guy she could never play with, even for a night.

  Sophie told herself this even as she smoothed up a nude stocking and clipped it to her garter belt. She’d showered and shaved her legs and picked out a sleeveless black dress with an A-line skirt, all the while assuring herself she wouldn’t see him after dinner. She couldn’t. Alex Bishop obviously didn’t know who she was. If he knew she was Dorothy Heyer’s daughter, he’d never have asked her out.

  Then again... He had a glint in his eyes that Sophie recognized. It was familiar because she saw it in the mirror every day. It was a glint that said she wanted to do things. Things she knew she shouldn’t.

  She smoothed up the other stocking and clipped it in place before letting the skirt fall.

  The black dress was modest. The neckline didn’t show even a hint of cleavage. Everything about her was modest. Everything except the truth.

  She brushed her hair out until it shone, then twisted it back into her favorite chignon. She would’ve left it down, but if she went for a ride on his bike, it would stay neat under her helmet this way.

  Not that she was going for a ride. She wasn’t even going to see him.

  But she kept getting ready, her heart beating hard. This was the real her. The woman who wanted things she shouldn’t have. Things like a big stranger with a shaved head and tattoos she wanted to uncover. A man whose smile was almost as hard as those thighs encased by well-worn denim. Exactly the man she could not be seen with.

  “No,” Sophie told herself as her heart beat even harder. No. She couldn’t do it. Yes, he was a virtual stranger. Yes, he was only in town for a few days. Yes, he looked dark and dangerous and he’d seen right away that she wasn’t exactly what she appeared to be.

  But no. His identity overruled all of her usual guidelines. There would be nothing logical about a fling with Alex.

  She slipped on her black heels with the little bows on the back, then slid bright red lipstick over her lips, loving the way the color bloomed and transformed her average mouth into something wicked and wanton. She pressed her lips together and marveled at the bright shock of color that reappeared when she pouted.

  She slipped on her black glasses.

  God. It had been so long since she’d been bad. Months since she’d even tried, and that last guy had been so boring once she’d finally gotten him alone.

  Alex wouldn’t be boring.

  But she couldn’t go.

  Then again... She didn’t have his number. It would be rude to simply not show up. She should at least go to the bar after dinner to tell him that this was a mistake.

  Of course, if she only told him that, he’d press, just like he had earlier. Come on. It’ll be fun. He’d seen what she really wanted and pushed her to give in to it. Come on. I promise not to tell.

  Pleasure shot through her belly at the memory of those wicked words. A few seconds with the guy and he’d already tapped into that naughty streak that had haunted her since high school.

  Back then, she’d never indulged it, so it had been easier to ignore. It wasn’t easy to ignore anymore.

  So she couldn’t just see him and play coy. She’d have to tell him the truth about who she was. That was the right thing to do.

  Nodding to herself, Sophie shrugged on a little black sweater with pearl buttons, then slipped in matching pearl earrings.

>   Maybe a little too Audrey Hepburn, but with the red lipstick and the bows at the back of her heels, she hoped she’d added a hint of suggestion.

  Sophie locked up the tiny house she was staying in and headed down the street. Dinner with the girls was just what she needed. They tried to get together every other Sunday for girls’ night out, but this was an extra treat. Lauren had wanted to try the new French restaurant in town and Isabelle had just finished up a big project that had kept her working late for weeks, so they had a good excuse for a weekday night out.

  The restaurant was only four blocks away, so she’d decided not to drive. If she walked, she’d have the perfect excuse to accept a ride later.

  Even if—when, she ordered herself—even when she told him who she was, he still might offer a ride home. It’d be very late, after all. And a ride would be a pleasant consolation prize, pressed against his broad back with that black-and-chrome machine between her thighs. That was a hell of a lot more than nothing.

  Her heels clicked against the wooden boardwalk when she reached the first touristy block of town. It was cool tonight, but she never minded that. She loved the breeze sneaking over her silk-clad legs. She loved the cool air in her lungs and the scent of turning aspen on the breeze. Fall was her favorite time of year. It felt like the world was holding its breath for something exciting.

  She tried to tell herself she wasn’t doing the same thing as she reached the restaurant and glanced up the block to the loud touristy restaurant she’d visit later.

  Lauren and Isabelle were already enjoying wine by the time she spotted them and hurried to the table. “Sorry I had to work so late.”

  “We’re sorry we had to start without you,” Lauren said with a grin. “You look adorable as usual,” she added as she stood to give Sophie a big hug.

  “You, too. And you!” Sophie said as she hugged Isabelle. “You’re alive!”

  “Barely,” Isabelle said drily. “Just don’t look at my nails.” She held up her hands to show off her paint-stained cuticles. Sophie didn’t mention the streak of green oil paint on her collarbone. It clashed with the silky red shirt she wore.

  She and Lauren had gotten to know Isabelle at the library where she often arranged to borrow expensive books from state universities. Her painting demanded very specific types of research, so she came in fairly often, distracted and color-streaked. She normally wore old jeans and sweaters, so Sophie was surprised to see the deep red flowy blouse she wore tonight. “You look so pretty. Are you wearing heels?” she gasped.

  Isabelle stuck out her foot to show off cute black wedge boots. “Ugh. Yes. I’m considering getting laid sometime this decade. My neighbor talked me into ordering these online.”

  Lauren rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t have any trouble getting laid if you left the house more often than once a month.”

  “I don’t want to leave the house. I don’t know why a man can’t be delivered along with my art supplies.”

  Sophie grinned. “Maybe you could advertise for models.”

  “That probably wouldn’t go over well once they realized my specialty. Anatomical paintings sound fun until you realize it’s not a euphemism.”

  “It could be,” Lauren insisted, with a tip of her glass. “These snowboarding bums are always looking for a few dollars. And they’re in very, very nice shape.”

  Isabelle’s normally serious face got even more serious for a moment. “Hmm.”

  Sophie snorted. “Oh, my God, she’s actually thinking about it. Let’s just make clear that Lauren and I would be happy to pose as art students to make this happen.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Lauren agreed. “We’d do it for you, Isabelle. Goodness of our hearts and all that.”

  “Screw you,” Isabelle said. “You’ve got a naked man to look at any time you want.”

  “Hey!” Sophie interrupted, bumping Lauren’s arm. “Didn’t you say your mom was here to visit? Why didn’t you bring her along?”

  “She’s in bed already. She said she was tired, but I think she wanted a few hours of alone time to read. She just got an e-reader. She doesn’t want me to tell any of her old librarian associates.”

  “Oh, I forgot your mom was a librarian, too. You’re a legacy family!”

  Lauren laughed. “I spent half my childhood in the stacks. I couldn’t break free from my fate.”

  “Does your mom like Jake?” Sophie asked.

  “What’s not to like? He’s a wholesome fire captain!”

  “Wholesome, huh?”

  Lauren’s wide smile told them everything they needed to know about her new relationship with the fire captain. Sophie tried not to sigh. She didn’t need a serious relationship, but the steady sex would be really nice. She’d never had that. She didn’t know when she ever would. Yeah, she was much more comfortable with sordid, hidden affairs. Funny how those traits could be inherited.

  She spent the rest of dinner trying not to think of having a sordid affair with Alex Bishop. The knowledge that she absolutely couldn’t do it made the thought harder to force out of her mind. She was so distracted that her friends didn’t even blink when she made an excuse about being tired and wrapped up their dinner a few minutes earlier than they’d normally have broken up. It was a weeknight, after all.

  “Do you want a ride, Sophie?” Lauren asked. “Jake’s coming to pick me up.”

  “No, it’s a beautiful night. I want to enjoy as much walking as I can before winter sets in.”

  She said her goodbyes, her heart speeding a little at the small deception. Or maybe it was speeding with excitement, because it only beat faster as she stepped onto the boardwalk. If her friends were paying attention, they’d notice that she wasn’t heading toward her house, but she glanced through the window and saw that they were still chatting as they gathered purses and jackets. Sophie rushed up the block, not bothering to hide her smile.

  Even during the slow season, a cacophony sounded from the Bucking Bronco when the door opened a few feet ahead of her. Country music played and people spoke loudly to be heard over it. The outdoor tables were abandoned for the evening, but past the windows, families with tired children ate ribs and steak and took the opportunity to get a little drunk.

  When she stepped inside, she noticed the younger crowd at the bar, but she knew from experience that the music was even louder back there. Sophie ducked to the left and headed up the wide staircase.

  The bar upstairs was smaller. They only served beer and wine and margaritas, but there were small tables around the bar here, and she and Alex would disappear from view behind the larger dining tables at the front.

  Though Alex might have a hard time disappearing anywhere, she realized as she caught sight of his shaved head and walked toward him. He stood at the bar, looming over the few other people there. Sophie glanced around, but there was no one she knew here. There was better steak and cheaper beer to be had a few streets out of town.

  Alex saw her and straightened. He didn’t smile, but the slight rise of his eyebrows as he looked her up and down conveyed approval. Sophie did smile. That man was a pleasure to look at. He’d shaved his face, and now his jaw and cheekbones were emphasized, giving him a lean and deadly look. He’d also shucked his leather jacket at some point, and there they were. Tattoos.

  One arm was covered all the way down to his wrist with the vivid colors of a design she couldn’t make out from ten feet away. She did her best not to lunge at him like she was bringing down prey.

  “Hi,” he said. “I didn’t know if you wanted to get a table.”

  “That’d be great.”

  He gestured toward the closest empty table, then reached past her to pull out the chair before she could sit. A gentleman. With tattoos.

  He grabbed his jacket from a bar stool and slipped it over the back of the other chair. “What are you drinkin
g?”

  “White wine, please.”

  He nodded as if he’d expected that and stepped back to the bar without another word. The order only took a moment to place, but she used that short time to study him from behind. His gray T-shirt hugged thick shoulders and revealed the delicious taper of his back down to his waist. Those ancient jeans showed off thick thighs and a delicious-looking ass. It all ended in lug-soled black boots that made her heart skip a little.

  He was just so...masculine.

  She looked away before he turned around with her wine and a bottle of beer, and Sophie folded her hands demurely on the table.

  He still looked big when he sat down. She knew she couldn’t hide her stare, so she didn’t even bother. “I like your tattoos.”

  His head drew back a little in surprise. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Can I see this one?” She gestured toward his left arm.

  He helpfully pulled his sleeve up to his shoulder.

  “Wow,” she breathed.

  Sophie wanted to reach out and touch, despite that she knew there’d be no texture. But the reds and blues and greens were so vivid, she imagined she’d feel something. It wasn’t just passive art. His arm was alive with it.

  She’d never seen such deep colors on skin. Dark green pine trees rose up his biceps in stylized spikes outlined in black, but the tips disappeared into wisps of clouds. A bright blue river wound through the green and then down his thickly muscled forearm. It splashed between angled boulders of red and yellow and gray before the river tightened to a bright red ribbon that finally wound around his wrist.

  “It’s really beautiful. It’s honestly the most beautiful tattoo I’ve ever seen.”

  “Thanks. An artist in California did it. He’s really amazing. He’s the only one I go to now.”

  “And that?” she asked, tipping her head toward his right arm, where a raven was drawn in stark black lines that looked like slashes.

  “An earlier work.”

  “I like it, too. You’ve got nice taste.”

  A small smile, finally. “Not as nice as you. You like pretty dresses.”