Hitting The Mark

by Jill Monroe

  She was about to tell him what they needed to talk about, but then she thought of the dinner bill she could run up on his dime. Appetizer. Dessert. The steak and lobster special. Wine. How could she forget about the wine? Maybe a coffee, no, a latte, afterwards.

  She tamped down her barely-there feelings of guilt. No way. Her bare boobs were on computer screens all over the world, and her Dutch treat days with Dirk were over.

  “Sounds good,” she said with an evil smile.

  “And Cassie, I’m looking forward to seeing you again.” His voice dipped lower, and every hormone in her body responded with a jump. Just like always.

  When that sensation trickled down her spine, she slammed the phone into the receiver. Picked it up once more and slammed it again. There’d be no playing “You hang up,” “No, you hang up” games with him as they had at fourteen. Good thing she hadn’t used her cell phone. Not as much satisfaction in depressing a button.

  “What happened to embrace the calm?” Danni asked.

  “Oh, screw the calm. Calm is overrated. Revenge. Castration.”

  “WHERE ARE WE GOING?”

  Eric just laughed. “It’s a secret.”

  “Oh, come on,” Danni urged him. Strange. For a woman whose life had been built around secrets, she sure didn’t like it when they were kept from her. Her heart beat faster in anticipation and her skin felt more sensitive.

  He gave her a sideways glance. “I will tell you it’s not bowling,” he said dryly, but she saw the humor lurking in the brown sexiness of his eyes.

  Danni laughed, but she was determined to ferret out his secret.

  Curiosity was a fault. A fault all Flynns seemed to share, but must suppress. Her back suddenly stiffened as the cautionary voice of her father filled her head. She had a lot of questions where Eric was concerned, yet as her father always warned, curiosity was a dangerous thing. It made you less careful because you stopped following the plan. Recklessness sent out clues. Got you caught.

  However, she wasn’t on the grift with Eric. She was nothing other than honest. An anomaly with a Flynn for sure, but one that felt right. And so did curiosity. Judging by Eric’s pin-her-against-the-wall response earlier, he wasn’t immune to her charms. Maybe she could seduce their destination out of him.

  Her body instantly liked that idea. Her nipples tightened.

  She glanced down at her jean-clad legs and running shoes. Not seduction material. A side-slit clingy skirt was the better uniform for a little erotic persuasion. A Flynn’s real skills rested in creating a mood, an illusion to where a mark felt comfortable and willing to share anything from the location of a security camera to access codes. But she couldn’t do anything like that, looking like someone more apt to help a person move boxes to their new apartment. Eric held all the cards.

  “So, you’re really not going to tell me?” she asked, infusing just the right touch of playful and offhand into her voice.

  He shook his head.

  Yeah, you can keep your secret Mr. Security Man. She shifted her focus to the desert outside the window.

  “So what happened with your friend?” he asked after a moment.

  Danni twisted in her seat toward Eric. “I’ve never, ever seen Cassie so flustered, so…so…not herself. She is the most put together person I’ve ever met. It’s like she’s completely without dysfunction.” And she went on, telling Eric most of the story, leaving out the embarrassing parts.

  Wait a minute…did he just sidestep? Change the subject? Divert her attention to something else? She’d been determined to find out where he was taking her. Then with one quick question from him, she’d spent the next five minutes talking about Cassie and her problems.

  Danni glanced quickly at Eric. Corporate. His long fingers steady around the steering wheel.

  Great brown eyes. Unangelic kissing. And apparently a man who liked his secrets.

  “Guess it’s no surprise Cassie would lose it because of a man,” she said rather quietly, because Danni herself had lost every inkling of knowledge about human nature with Eric. She was playing this all wrong.

  “Would you lose it over a man?” Eric asked, his tone curious.

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Good, I wouldn’t want you to.”

  She met his eyes then. A strange coldness rested in the once-warm depths. Again she got the feeling that Eric liked his secrets.

  “We’re here,” he said as he signaled their turn.

  Danni glanced toward the large wooden sign featuring a lot of shiny golden glitter. To be honest, she’d been tempted in the past to “find her fortune” at the Golden Dig, a tourist trap outside Reno. “We’re panning for gold?” she asked as they got out of the car.

  “Thought you might like trying to earn it an honest way,” he said with a wink.

  “Where’s the fun in that?”

  Eric laughed as his hand slid to the small of her back. Ohh, she loved when he did that. Musicians and con men didn’t curve their hand along a woman’s back, giving her that warm protected feeling. Who knew she wanted that feeling?

  The establishment exuded an atmosphere reminiscent of the mining towns that quickly popped up all over Nevada and California once gold was discovered. From the wooden sidewalks and the broken-down wagon in the middle of “Main Street” to the water pump and horse ties outside the planked wood mercantile, the whole place had the kind of tourist kitsch that begged cynicism from a Flynn. Might not be totally historically accurate, but it was definitely campy fun. Danni loved it on sight.

  “Do you know how to do this?” she asked, trying to distract herself from Eric’s closeness.

  “I already have our claim staked. At least for the next two hours.” He pointed toward a small area by the river, which was a short distance from the parking lot. He took a few steps ahead of her, then reached back lifting his hand to hers, helping her down the incline.

  She could have easily hiked down that hill to the riverbank. Heck, hike was too big a word for the gentle slope down to the water. After all, she could schlep a loser boyfriend’s guitar amp with no problem. But something about having a sexy man offer his hand made every cynical instinct she had want to sing songs about starshine in the morning.

  So Danni grasped his hand, let him lead her down the rise and embraced the feelings of girly delicateness invading her limbs.

  Eric dropped her hand when they reached the bank and began to take off his shoes.

  She made a tsking sound with her tongue. “Second date and you’re already stripping,” she told him. “Anyone ever tell you you’re easy?”

  “Play your cards right, and you might see me take off a lot more.”

  “I know how to play all the cards,” she reminded him. Visions of Eric doing away with a lot more clothing began bombarding her already intrigued senses. Chest hair or not? Boxers or briefs? Tattoos or piercings? Wait, she could probably answer that without any clothing removal. Corporate and tattoos didn’t mix. Yet, wouldn’t it be cool and surprising if he did?

  “Maybe that’s what I’m counting on,” he said.

  She’d read somewhere that a woman subconsciously decided to make love to a man within fifteen seconds of interaction. Suddenly the decision her subconscious had made several days ago asserted itself because anticipation was exactly what she felt.

  It wouldn’t be today. Probably not tomorrow. This was a slow-burning seduction. But she would be making love with Eric, and her body…no, she couldn’t wait for the heated weight of his body along hers. That frenzied need to remove his clothes. The urgency of his fingers against her skin.

  She sucked in a breath. Her muscles were already relaxing and her blood pumping in expectancy. Except now was not the time. She didn’t want this fast.

  Danni kicked off her shoes, and slipped off her socks, sticking them inside. She hadn’t expected to be showing off her naked toes quite so soon in their relationship. She snuck a quick peek at her feet. Not so bad, the pink polish she’d managed to get on
two days before still appeared okay. She rolled up her jeans to below her knees, then turned to glance at Eric.

  Was there a part on the man’s body that looked bad? Certainly none of the body parts she’d viewed so far. And his muscular lower legs with the right amount of sun were no exception. Not even a weird pinky toe.

  Not that she was complaining. In fact, if he planned to show off more body parts, she wouldn’t shy away.

  “Ready?” he asked, extending his hand toward her once more and helping her to her feet.

  “Yes,” she said, breathless.

  The sand felt warm and soft beneath her toes. Eric grabbed two pans, handing her one. “Scoop the sand, fill it with water and sift. Easy as that,” he explained.

  “Now you’re talking like a con man.”

  “When things are right, they can be that easy.”

  She glanced at him sharply, but he was already bending over, catching water and sand into his pan.

  Being with Eric was that easy. No need to hide behind pretense. Or plans. Everything flowed naturally.

  She’d just ignore that shiver of alarm that raced through her body.

  6

  AT THE SILVER MOON, Dirk stood when he saw Cassie approaching the table. His blue eyes widened, then narrowed. In desire.

  Score.

  “I love it when you wear your hair all down your back.” “You look so hot in blue.” “Mmm, you smell great.” That was one of the good things about teenage boys, they told you exactly what turned them on.

  Meanwhile, teenage girls in love remembered everything. Women could use that knowledge to their advantage.

  Hair curly and down her back. Check.

  Blue sleeveless dress with heels. Check.

  The flowery soap she had used in high school. Check.

  She’d armed herself fully. What she hadn’t counted on, however, was that he’d be sporting quite an arsenal himself. He’d been lean and lanky in high school, but his shoulders had filled out beautifully. In fact, all of him looked pretty stunning.

  And that smile, that gorgeous smile of his that never failed to bring her to her knees and send her away from whatever sensible path she knew she should walk.

  Her lips curved in a smile all for him.

  No, of course she didn’t need to study.

  Ditching sixth hour sounded great.

  Yeah, why not film their love?

  Her smile instantly vanished. Her fists clenched at her sides.

  Dirk Carr, you are going to pay for every moment of humiliation I have suffered at your hands.

  Excellent. Despite her current situation, she’d set a goal for herself. She was well on her way to a Daily Change, as she advised in her book, and broke up what appeared to be insurmountable transformations into smaller goals a woman could challenge herself with every day. By already identifying an objective and stating her intention, steps one and two were complete.

  Feeling good about that, Cassie allowed Dirk to pull out her chair. Except she ended up brushing against his now very broad chest. The heat from his body was overwhelming.

  Perfectly natural, she cautioned herself. After all, he had been her first lover.

  The waiter appeared out of nowhere and handed her a menu. Or maybe he’d been there all along, hovering, and she’d been too engrossed in Dirk’s stupid chest. “Would you like an appetizer?” the waiter asked.

  And onto step three—actualizing. “Shrimp cocktail,” she answered without opening her menu.

  “Six or twelve?” the waiter asked.

  “Do you have anything bigger?”

  The waiter looked uncertain. “I could double the twelve.”

  “Why don’t you triple,” she told him with a delighted smile, then looked around the restaurant. Anything to avoid Dirk’s now penetrating stare.

  The Silver Moon was where Dirk had taken her to eat the night of the prom. If anything, it was even more elegant than she remembered. Figured. She’d really only had eyes for him at the time. Dark cherry wood paneling lent an intimate atmosphere. Everything from the gorgeous crystal chandeliers to the flickering candles on the pristine white tablecloths shouted sophistication and expense. And romance.

  Why had he suggested this place?

  Dirk had taken his lunch to school every day for a month in order to save enough money to take her here. Of course it wouldn’t have mattered, they could have eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on the hood of his car and she’d have been just as happy, she had loved him so much.

  Her fists clenched again, and she shook them out under the table. He’d better start saving his pennies in a hurry, because tonight’s meal would not come cheap.

  “You look amazing, Cassie.”

  Cassie had to glance at him after that proclamation. She’d always found him gorgeous, his short blond hair, straight jaw, sexy full lips. There was the hand clenching again.

  She would have been flattered by his compliment, but then she remembered how she looked bare-ass naked on the computer in her office. Thanks to him.

  “Bring a bottle of the Cabernet Sauvignon please,” she told the waiter as he brought them glasses of ice water.

  “Are we celebrating something, madam?” asked the waiter.

  Oh, if only he knew. Back when she lived here, The Silver Moon was the place in town to celebrate. Anniversaries. Engagements. Telling off the jerk who posted your sex tape on the Internet. “Yes,” she told the waiter, not elaborating further.

  Dirk didn’t bat an eyebrow at her ordering a seventy-five-dollar bottle of wine. In fact, he looked relaxed and downright happy sitting casually against the high-backed mahogany chair. Clearly she’d have to ramp it up a bit.

  “It’s good to see you again. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about you over the years,” he said, his smile genuine.

  Something twisted in her heart at the sight of that mouth. At the rush of aching memories and hunger, Cassie eyed her water glass. If she threw the contents in his face now, she’d have to leave before she ordered the steak special. That had to be at least thirty bucks. She gave Dirk a tight smirk instead.

  “Congratulations on your book, by the way. Everyone here is so impressed with what you’ve done. Me, too,” he said. His voice was rich and sexy and warm, the realness behind his words clear.

  Cassie hated that he was being pleasant. He was taking all the fun out of this. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle a whole evening of him being nice to her.

  Singing and a flaming dessert caught her eye. A waiter was serenading a beautiful love song in Italian to the hand-holding couple at the next table. “Happy Anniversary,” the man announced, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  The woman blushed. “Oh, you shouldn’t have done this, Chris.”

  The man kissed her hand.

  Cassie almost rolled her eyes.

  She spotted their waiter. Strike that. There was no “their.” Her waiter. She spotted her waiter returning to the table. Oh good, her shrimp had arrived. If she could order quickly, she might be able to salvage something before Dirk stalked off into the night after she told him what a jerk he was for uploading that tape.

  And that he was bad in bed.

  Wait a minute. If he stalked off, she might get stuck with the bill.

  “I was surprised when you called. I didn’t think I’d ever hear from you. Not after that Labor Day party at Jake’s house,” he said, watching her intently.

  Ah yes, he’d tried to corner her in the kitchen. Tried to get back with her. Standing across from him, Jake’s family’s dinette between them, she’d finally come up with the title of her book. It was natural for humans to make mistakes. So she planned to only make better ones. Not getting back with Dirk would be one of those.

  Did he sound flattered? Expensive meal or not, she simply could not sit here and let him think she wanted to contact him. Be pleased about it.

  “I never intended to,” she said, reaching for a shrimp and dipping it into the cocktail sau
ce. Just thirty-five more to go. And she wasn’t sharing. Cassie scooted the plate closer.

  “I always thought of you,” he said, his voice gentle, with a touch of regret.

  Cassie choked on the second shrimp she’d shoved into her mouth. Did that line work for him? She waved her hands to show that she was okay, before he came around the table to pound on her back.

  This man was going to pay. Was all his thinking about her before or after he broke her heart? Maybe it was after he told her he’d love her forever and then a few weeks later suggested they see other people. Perhaps it was the time he brought a “new special woman” home for Thanksgiving break.

  “Actually, Dirk, I thought of you a lot, too.”

  His blue eyes sparkled. Hopeful. “Really?” he asked. “That’s gr—”

  “Yes, I don’t care how old you get, how many times you fall in love, find someone better…you never forget the asshole who broke your heart first.”

  Dirk blanched, then took her hand. “Cass, I know, and I’m so—”

  Every angry instinct in her body reacted. “Then something interesting happens. One day you stop crying and feeling sorry for yourself. You start to question yourself. How could I have been so wrong? How could I have made such a mistake?”

  He dropped her hand, then leaned back in his seat, giving her a scrutinizing look. “Like the title of your book,” he said.

  “Exactly.” She smiled as she popped another shrimp into her mouth. “I searched and self-discovered and realized I hated you. And it was okay.” She lifted her shoulders in a lighthearted shrug. “All those self-help books on the market talk about forgiveness, putting things in the past, blah blah blah.”

  His expression darkened. Good.

  “I wanted to keep on hating you. So I gave myself permission to do it, and you know, I felt so much better afterwards. No high road involved.” She gave a light chuckle, feeling better. Then she leaned forward as if she was telling him something in secret. “And apparently, a lot of other women in the world want to keep right on hating some jerk from their past, too, because the book has done very well.”