by Rhonda Shaw
He looked at her in shock and sat back in his seat, which was already reclined as far as it could go to accommodate his long legs inside the small confines of his Porsche. “How do you live and work in Royal Oak and not know Hannigan’s?”
“I don’t know Hannigan’s, so sue me or something.” A thought suddenly occurred to her and Karen turned back to him. “Is this a boob joint?”
He laughed as he opened his door and climbed out. “Let’s go. Make sure you bring your singles.”
She watched as Jerry stopped in front of his car and raised his brows questioningly at her as he waited for her to join him. She took a deep breath and hoped she knew what the hell she was getting herself into.
She walked with him across the parking lot and stepped through the door he held open for her. It was very small and cozy inside, and it was surprisingly quiet for such tight quarters. Despite the minimalist décor, Karen could smell the money in the place and understood immediately why she’d never heard of it—it was so obviously out of her price range. The lights were low and a squat candle sat on each table, adding to the ambiance, but she could see the single dining room was packed.
The hostess looked up when Karen entered and gave her a small smile. She was about to greet Karen, but then spotted Jerry and her whole face lit up like the sun.
“Hi, Angie,” he said as he walked up to the stand and glanced at the full room. “Looks busy tonight.”
Karen could have sworn she saw hearts floating around Angie’s eyes the way she was beaming at him as if he could turn everything to gold. She gave the girl credit, though, since she didn’t miss a beat or start to drool.
“We are, but I’ve got a table for you...two,” she added as she glanced hastily at Karen before beaming back at him. “Just give me a second.”
They watched her walk away and Karen raised an eyebrow.
“What?” Jerry asked, but she could tell he was fighting a smile.
“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all. It’s perfectly normal to have a table appear out of thin air.” She cocked her head at the people standing behind them. “Especially while others are waiting.”
He glanced at the group behind them, giving them a friendly nod, but said nothing, which made her laugh. She noticed that even after Jerry had turned back in the direction the puppy-love hostess had disappeared, some of the men were still staring at them. Apparently, they all recognized Jerry and Karen was okay with that, until she realized they were also eyeing her with interest. That she didn’t like, and she stared right back without shame. Caught gawking, they hastily looked away. Jerry noticed her little staring contest and reached for her, tugging her close.
“Stop it,” he murmured.
“What? They’re staring at me,” she hissed under her breath. “It’s rude. They can stare at you all they want, I don’t care.”
“You’re better-looking than me,” Jerry whispered back, trying to defuse the situation.
“Well, of course I am, but that doesn’t mean they need to leer like I’m going to start stripping or something.” Karen moved to scowl over her shoulder since she could feel eyes boring into her back again, but he grabbed her wrist, keeping her in place. “What?”
“Stop, please. Ignore it,” he pleaded.
“Fine,” she said with a huff.
“Thank you,” he said, relief that she wasn’t going to start a brawl apparent in his voice.
Angie finally reappeared—all giggles and smiles—and led them back to a dark corner. Before they could sit down, a waiter was at their table with a bottle of wine in his hands, holding it out to Jerry for his approval.
“Thanks, Alan. That’s perfect.”
Karen watched the proceedings quietly, finding it funny how everyone was tripping over themselves for him. She wondered if Alan was going to cut Jerry’s food and feed it to him as well, the way he hovered.
When he finally left them to study their menus, she leaned back in her chair and eyed Jerry levelly as she sipped her wine. She was about to say something but stopped abruptly and looked back at the wineglass.
“Damn, that’s good.”
“It is. It’s the house wine.”
“Huh,” Karen said as she took another healthy sip before setting it on the table. She crossed her hands. “I didn’t realize I was out with royalty.”
“Royalty?” Jerry asked with a puzzled frown.
“Uh-huh. I’m wondering what’s going to happen next. Are they going to bring the cook out and present each menu item for you to choose from?”
“I come here a lot. They know me. That’s it.”
“Right, right. That’s it. No other reason. They do this for everyone.”
Jerry sat back in his chair and she noticed something hot flash in his eyes. When he spoke, a hard edge had crept into his voice. “What do you want me to say? Is it because I play for the Rockets? Yeah, probably it is, but it isn’t like they don’t get anything in return. I tell people and they get business.”
She raised her hands in a show of surrender, not used to any displays of anger from him. “Okay, okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to hit a nerve.”
Despite her apology, he wasn’t going to let it go. “I don’t like it being implied that I take advantage of things because of who I am.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it, sorry,” Karen repeated.
He frowned at her. “Is there something we need to discuss? What’s your issue with me, Karen?”
It was her turn to look puzzled. “My issue?”
“Yeah. You’ve got like this huge chip on your shoulder, and I can’t tell if it’s just me or guys in general.”
Her spine stiffened a bit before she made herself relax. She took another sip of her wine, stalling before looking back at him. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to feel left out.”
“Ah, all men in general then. Good to know that it’s nothing personal.” Jerry looked at her over the rim of his glass. “So, what happened? Some guy walk out on you and ruin it for all future men in your life?”
“Who said anything happened? Maybe I’m just a bitch.”
“Maybe,” he agreed. “But I think it’s more than that. That’s just an easy excuse.”
She sat in silent for a second, not liking the direction of their conversation, before changing the subject. “So what is this?”
“What is what? Dinner?”
“Come on, Jerry. After that display at the house, which I’m not complaining about, by the way, this is more than dinner here,” Karen said as she waved a finger back and forth between them. “You curious? You want to try an older woman on for size like Chase?”
“What makes you think I’ve never been with an older woman before?” he asked and she felt her cheeks flame. “No, I’m not curious about being with an older woman, even though you’re really not that much older than me. Four years is nothing. I am, however, curious about you.”
“Curious about me?” she asked and immediately started to feel her skin flush again.
“Yeah. You’re feisty, loud, crass and sassy and I can’t get you out of my mind,” Jerry said with a crooked smile. “You’ve got me curious.”
His words caused her heart to stutter and she could feel herself practically glowing. “Well, after that flattering review of my personality, I can see why.”
He smirked before he dropped it, all humor aside, his eyes hard and piercing, causing the hair on her arms and at the nape of her neck to rise. “I shouldn’t be attracted to you, but I am. I can’t stop it.”
Karen tried to think of something smart to say, but couldn’t. The conversation had set her blood to a boil before it flooded her body, causing a pool of warmth to bathe her skin and a low hum to rumble through her head, cutting off any rational thought she might be able to pull together. Her heart felt like it was in her
throat and she had to struggle to get a deep breath in her lungs. She couldn’t remember the last time any guy had made her feel this way and she was out of practice with how to deal with it. She didn’t think she’d ever wanted anyone as much as she wanted Jerry, and all she knew was that if she didn’t get horizontal with him sometime soon, she was likely going to implode.
They sat measuring each other in silence, the tension between them palpable, before the arrival of Alan with their salad plates broke it up. Karen welcomed the interruption, thankful to be free of his intense scrutiny that she could feel down to her toes. She needed the time to get it together, tuck away her emotions and remind herself that whatever she had with Jerry must remain simple.
She took a bite of her salad and chewed absently, not tasting anything, unable to believe what was happening. To hear him speak of his interest in her so candidly blew her mind. Jerry Smutton was curious about her. It seemed her fantasies were going to come true and she had to make sure she didn’t blow it by adding any stupid, annoying feelings into the mix. Karen had to go into this clearheaded and determined, and that’s exactly what she was going to do. As soon as the spark between them had run its course and fizzled out, which would happen, it always did, she would move on. She didn’t want anything more than that—from him or anyone else.
“Everything okay?” Jerry asked, after a few minutes had passed.
“Yes. Thanks.”
“This is where you say something about how attracted you are to me and how you can’t deny yourself any longer,” he teased, but she could see the apprehension in his eyes.
Karen put down her fork and decided to lay it out straight with him. He’d done as much with her, so he deserved the same treatment. “I’m not looking for a relationship.”
“Neither am I,” he replied quickly, sounding relieved.
She paused a second, turning his words over in her head while resisting the urge to squeal in excitement. “What are you looking for then?”
“Fun. I want to have fun and I have fun with you. That’s it. Simple as that.”
“Fun? You make it sound like you want to go to the arcade with me.”
“Okay,” he said with a shrug. “I like arcades.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you do, but I think there’s more to what you’re saying than just playing pinball together, isn’t there?” Please be more, she thought.
Jerry eyed her for a second, looking a little uncertain as he swallowed some wine before clearing his throat. “Of course. There’s no reason why we can’t enjoy...each other and not have to worry about commitments and all that stuff. We can just have fun with it.”
She had to fight the urge to fist-pump with excitement as what exactly it was that Jerry wanted with her clicked. “Translation, friends with bennies. Is that it?”
He gave a small cough as he choked on his wine before breaking out with a low chuckle, shaking his head at her. “See? That’s why I can’t stop thinking about you. You call it like it is. You get it. No beating around the bush with you.”
Karen sat back and eyed him before giving him a nod in agreement even though she wanted to launch herself across the table and start taking advantage of those bennies. “All right. We’ll give it a try until you bore me or I wear you out.”
Jerry almost spit out the food he’d just taken a bite of and let out a laugh-strangle noise. “Wear me out...” he stopped in mid-sentence, his gaze resting just over her shoulder. He cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with his napkin, and she turned around to see what had caught his attention. She spotted a small boy about six years old walking slowly toward their table, his father standing a few feet behind him.
The little boy kept his eyes on Jerry but looked tentative as his small feet carried him across the room and over to their table. She turned back to Jerry and found him smiling, encouraging him to come over. When he finally stood next to them, Jerry pushed his chair back and shifted toward the boy.
“Hi, there. What’s your name?” Jerry asked.
“Andy,” the little boy replied quietly.
He held out his hand. “Hi, Andy. It’s nice to meet you.”
Andy watched as his impossibly small hand disappeared in Jerry’s large one, mesmerized that he was touching his hero. Karen’s heart squeezed at the sight of a young boy meeting his idol.
“You play baseball, Andy?”
Andy nodded, still unable to find his voice, when his dad spoke up for him. “Andy wants to learn how to pitch, don’t you, buddy?”
Andy looked up at his father and that was all the encouragement he needed. He turned back to Jerry and nodded. “Yeah! I want to be a pitcher like you.”
“You do? Well, I’m honored. I had to work hard though. Remember that and don’t give up.”
“No, I won’t. I work hard. Every day.”
“All right, all right. That’s the spirit,” Jerry said with a smile. He glanced up at the waiter passing by and mimed a pen.
“You go to a lot of the Rockets’ games, Andy?”
“Yeah, every one I can get to.”
“Yeah? Well, that’s great,” he said as he took the paper and pen being handed to him. Jerry wrote for a second before handing it to Andy. “Here you go, little man. Thanks for coming over to meet me. I really enjoyed it.”
Andy looked awestruck, unable to move away as his eyes traced over the message and Jerry’s signature. Finally, his dad put his hand on his shoulder and gently spun him around. “Thanks, Jerry. We really appreciate it and didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner.” He smiled apologetically at Karen.
Jerry stood as he shook the dad’s hand. “No problem, man. It was my pleasure.”
Karen gave the dad a nod, letting him know it was okay, and felt herself tear up as she watched him lead his son away. Andy was still staring at the paper in his hands as if it would suddenly disappear if he didn’t watch it at all times. She dabbed hastily at the corner of her eyes with her napkin as she glanced back at Jerry, but he had already returned to his dinner.
“That was sweet of you,” she said quietly.
He shrugged as he cut some of his steak. “Comes with the territory.”
She picked up her fork. “Well, that may be, but I’ve seen people turned away.”
Jerry glanced up. “Why would I do that? Especially to a kid?” He noticed that her eyes were watery and looked surprised. “Are you crying?”
“No,” she said quickly, but glanced away and told herself to buck up.
“Hey, look at me,” he said and waited until he had her attention. “I didn’t do it to be a nice guy. That was me way back when and I can’t ever forget that. I wouldn’t ever turn my back on a fan, especially a young kid.”
You haven’t and you’ve made that kid’s day, Karen thought, suddenly worried about what she had just agreed to. She hadn’t expected to witness a side of Jerry that could slowly melt the shield around her heart if she allowed it.
She took a deep breath and gave herself an internal shake. She could do this. She wanted to do this, and she would do it. It was just a moment of weakness with the cute little boy and had nothing to do with Jerry. Her inner fortress was secure and unshakable, and it would remain that way no matter what.
Chapter Eight
After dinner, Jerry and Karen walked out of the restaurant pleasantly full and buzzed from good food and wine. Before they reached his car, he grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the parking lot and onto the sidewalk.
Fully expecting and hoping he was going to take advantage of their new agreement immediately, Karen was startled, and disappointed, when she saw they were not heading back to one of their places. “Where are we going?” she asked.
He nodded down the street where she could see the glow of lights surrounding a miniature golf course. “You game?”
> It appeared he wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to go to arcades with her. She smiled at him. “Not only am I game, but I’m going to kick your ass.”
Jerry grinned as he twined his fingers with hers—an action that, she noted with some unease, felt completely natural. “I’ll take you up on that challenge. But to make it interesting, I think we should wager something.”
“Oh, a bet. I like the way you think.”
“How about this? If I win—”
“Don’t say something stupid, like ‘You have to do whatever I want,’” she interrupted.
“Let me finish,” he said and put his hand over her mouth. “If I win, you have to do whatever I want. Ow!” he cried with a laugh, as she jabbed him in the ribs. “Well, then you come up with something.”
“Hmmm,” Karen said as she thought it over. “If I win, you have to bring home the pennant. If you win, I have to chauffeur you around in your car.”
“Wow,” he said as he pretended to think it over. “It doesn’t sound like you’re losing on either end.”
She gave a derisive snort. “Who’d want to be seen in that piece of crap you drive?”
Jerry smirked as he looked down at her. “Win the pennant, huh? That’s quite a wager for one measly game of putt-putt.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. It doesn’t sound that bad to me.”
He laughed as he stepped up to the booth and paid for them both. Grabbing two balls, he handed her a pink one.
“Why do I get the pink one? Sexist.”
He rolled his eyes. “What color do you want, my dear?”
“Yellow.”
He grinned as he grabbed a yellow ball. “Yeah, that’s not a girly color at all.”
Karen ignored him as she strutted up to the first hole of the pirate-themed golf course and placed her ball in the small indentation. “I’m going first,” she announced.
“I see that,” he said from behind her.
Lining up the shot, she gently tapped the ball and watched as it rolled down the middle of the green before ricocheting off a wedge, which guided it right into the cup. She smiled sweetly at his look of shock at her hole in one. “I believe I’m winning.”