He shifted his gaze to watch her reaction to the reappearance of her date. Her body signals were practically flashing neon signs as the wineglass was presented to her: perfunctory smile (the teeth and gum line were noticeably absent), a single blink that lasted just a bit too long, eyes that were just a bit too bright, the slight sigh, the body that remained facing in Chance’s direction.
Sorry pal, she’s taken.
Now all Chance had to do was figure out how to make that a reality.
He held up a finger to the man. “Actually, if you could just give us one minute. I was this close to getting this gorgeous woman’s name.”
“Her name is, here-on-a-date-with-someone-else, pal.”
“Hmm, that seems like a mouthful,” he grinned at her. “If I were you, I’d think seriously about changing it to something a bit…easier on the lips.”
The twitch of her mouth told Chance that she, one, got the joke and, two, appreciated it. The gleam in those eyes also indicated the reference to his lips—and what he was interested in doing with them—wasn’t lost on her.
Her “someone” most definitely did not appreciate it. He placed the glass holding red wine directly in the line of sight between two of them, following it with his body.
Chance waited, watching, as her lips parted, a heavy inhale preceding….
….a resigned exhale. She diverted her eyes to her “someone,” and that was the end of that.
“Thank you, Simon,” she said, taking the glass.
Chance bowed his head graciously.
“Chance is my name. Long story there. I’d love to tell you about it sometime.”
That got a small smile behind Simon’s back as he gave Chance a hard stare. “Like maybe when she isn’t on a date with another guy?”
Message received.
But Chance was never one to go down that easily. He gave his best conceding smile, making a show of back walking. “Fair enough.”
Then he stopped, his smile becoming a bona fide grin. “But I do have to say, if I was out with a woman who could put most of the gems in this room to shame, I wouldn’t leave her side for one second.”
And there it was, all her sensory receptacles opening up again. One…two…three…
“Juliet,” she said, just as Simon was about to give Chance another what for.
Chance just gave her a grin and a wink, nodding his head at the two of them, then leaving them to it.
Tough luck Simon, she’s definitely taken.
2
“It’s gots to be real! It’s gots to be real!”
The words didn’t quite match the lyrics sung by Cheryl Lynn, but Kenny had a way of making each song his own. Despite having raised the level of their bikes to “nine,” a few snickers echoed around the spin class.
As usual, Juliet was at her Saturday morning spin class, which was no surprise should anyone have done a thorough analysis. And Juliet most certainly had.
This specific class, at this specific gym, at this specific time was the deliberate result of a number of factors, each contributing to the probability of her actually attending on a regular basis.
Arranged in order of weighted importance:
Proximity to her apartment
Proximity to a Starbucks with plenty of seating
Specifically being located between said apartment and said Starbucks
Likelihood of actually getting a bike without being wait-listed
Starting late enough for her to wake up, get ready, and make it to class
Starting early enough so she didn't laze the morning away and eventually decide not to attend
Liking the instructor
It was a good thing that the instructor was weighted less heavily than the others, since Juliet normally didn't care for Kenny's rather flamboyant way of guiding them through the class.
However, today even Juliet managed a chuckle.
“And release! Back down to two, for a verrrry short recovery!” he yelled in his exuberant way, as You’re the One that I Want from Grease came on. “Okay, everyone…it’s race time! Y’all know what to do! Get them legs pumpin’!”
Juliet took a deep breath and began to pedal faster. It helped that her heart was one step ahead of her the whole time. As she thought about last night’s date, her legs pedaled faster, trying to catch up with her rapidly beating heart.
Sadly, it wasn’t because of Simon.
I got chills, they're multiplying, and I'm losing control
'Cause the power you're supplying, it's electrifying
Chance.
What a name. A name with a story. A name that had disappeared almost as soon as it had been uttered.
Her legs faltered and her bike shoe snapped out of its lock.
Dammit!
Juliet snapped it back in, and began peddling faster again. As her pace increased, so did her optimism for some reason.
“Okay, now I wanna hear y’all sing along!” Kenny urged as the song got to its chorus. “Get that air into y’all’s lungs!”
You’re the one that I want…
“Ooh ooh ooh,” Kenny crooned. “I don’t hear y’all!”
As usual, only a few spinners joined in. Normally, Juliet wouldn’t have joined them in a million years.
Today was different.
You’re the one that I want…
“Ooh ooh ooh,” she belted out, earning her a surprised look of respect from Kenny.
“That’s it, girl!”
For some reason that got more people in the class going. By the end of the song, everyone was “Ooh ooh oohing,” and laughing as they raced.
“And…done!” cried Kenny, clapping his hands.
“What got into you today?” Shayla Sweeny looked at Juliet with an amused smirk as they wiped down their bikes.
After spin class, showering and doing her hair at the gym, Juliet’s next item on the agenda was always a trip to Starbucks, where she put all the calories she had just burned right back on with a grande caramel macchiato. Practically, without fail.
Shayla and she were what they termed “weekend friends.” Months ago they had found themselves standing next to each other in line at Starbucks. After recognizing each other from class, they decided to sit at the only available table together. Now it was their regular Saturday routine.
Juliet just shrugged. “I’m just feeling good, I guess.”
“The date went that well?” Shayla asked raising her eyebrows suggestively.
Juliet just laughed. “Not quite. Long story.”
“Ooh, now I’m really looking forward to my after-spin Starbucks.”
“And then he just took off?” Shayla asked, sipping her latte.
They were relegated to the patio outside Starbucks, and enjoying it, despite the late summer Houston heat.
Once again, Juliet admired how well her friend put herself back together again after spin class. Her hair was natural, in a cute little afro, so that helped. But the once sweat-drenched, makeup-free face was now like something off the cover of Essence Magazine. She wore a bright orange tank top that showed off her dark skin beautifully, and a fun, colorful print wrap skirt.
Juliet’s typical style was carefully curated, based on plenty of research, for the strongest possibility of attracting the kind of man she wanted…or thought she did. After last night she wasn’t so sure. All the same, she had officially crossed that dreaded threshold firmly into her 30s and she couldn’t afford to take chances with her appearance.
She had washed, blow-dried, and flat ironed her own relaxed hair into something resembling “straight,” which was a safe, neutral style. It went down past her shoulders, the ends curled for good measure. Her make-up was the usual mascara/eye-liner/lip gloss simplicity she limited herself to; not too heavy or too light. She wore a sleeveless, knee-length sundress in white eyelet fabric that showed off her brown skin perfectly; just feminine enough to be pretty, but not overly precious.
“Yeah. Gone, just like that,” she said, shrug
ging. “But, I don’t know. For some reason it just felt like that wasn’t the end of it.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Shayla said, lifting her sunglasses up on her head. “Is this our Juliet? The one who doesn’t believe in chance, or luck, or fate? Praise Jesus, we’ve finally found a man to convert our little analytical cynic,” she said, falling back in her chair with a laugh.
Juliet just kicked one sandaled foot out at her friend. “Don’t be ridiculous. It was just a fun detour on a so-so date.” She frowned, remembering how disappointing Simon had been. “A really so-so date.”
“And here you are, ooh, ooh, oohing, during spin class.” Shayla leaned in closer to Juliet. “Girl, if you don’t put whatever’s going on with you out into the universe then you don’t deserve this guy.”
Her friend fell back and brought her sunglasses down again. “At least tell me he was hot enough for the spank bank.”
“Shayla!” Juliet yelped with a laugh, nearly spitting out her macchiato.
Shayla just laughed. “Oh come on. Dish! I need something to distract me from the neanderthal waiting back at home for me, no doubt still in his boxers and unshaved face, drinking milk straight out of the carton. And before you say anything, I love him to death despite that.”
Juliet took one look at the ring on Shayla’s finger and felt that familiar pang of envy. At 31, it seemed like Juliet was a walking, talking cliché: smart, attractive, successful, nice…yet no man to show for it.
Not that it should matter. Or so all the magazines, books, and websites had informed her.
Juliet wasn’t desperate for a man, she just felt like she should have met someone she was compatible enough with to marry by now. It was getting to the point where she had to analyze what was wrong with her, and not the men she was dating.
“Well?”
Juliet was brought out of those sobering thoughts and taken back to last night. She recalled the man with the recklessly styled hair, the eyes that sparkled with an interesting hue even in the darkness of the museum, and that killer smile.
“I guess if you took…the voice of Matthew McConaughey, the attitude of that guy from Suits—”
“Gabriel Macht?” Shayla interrupted, leaning in and pushing her glasses back up again. “Now I’m really intrigued.”
“Yeah, but he looks more like a mix of…” she thought about it, “50% Jensen Ackles, definitely in the eyes and mouth, 30% Bradley Cooper around the mouth, and…maybe 20% Paul Walker?”
Shayla stared at her for a beat. “Leave it to you to boil him down to the world’s hottest formulaic equation.”
“It just fits,” Juliet said, the picture of Chance etched so deep into her brain that he might as well have been standing in front of her once again.
“Of course the question still remains….”
Juliet bit, rolling her eyes, even though she damn well knew where Shayla was going. “What?”
“How the hell are you going to run into this Casanova again?”
Now it was Juliet’s turn to fall back into her chair. “I don’t know. All he has is my first name and…”
She recalled the slip-up with the mention of the butterfly center. At the time, she had been appalled at how easily she had revealed her guilty pleasure to a perfect stranger. She often escaped to the butterfly center during the week, which was only a hop, skip and a jump from where she worked at Rice University.
“And what?” Shayla asked idly.
“I mentioned the butterfly center.”
Shayla raised an eyebrow. “Well, there you go.”
Juliet wrinkled her brow. “I didn’t even tell him when or where or—”
“So what?” Shayla sighed and put down her cup. “Juliet, not everyone in the world operates by a perfect analysis of likelihood and probability and whatever else it is that goes on in your brain. Some people just throw caution to the wind and follow their gut.”
Juliet frowned.
“Don’t you dare give me that look. After all, what the hell has eHarmony gotten you so far? You wanna talk odds, how about I bet you that this guy is sitting in that butterfly center right now, damn sure you’ll show up?”
Juliet laughed.
“Laugh all you want, but when I get back from my vacation in two weeks it will be you buying me my latte, girlfriend.”
Juliet had a membership to the museum. Considering how often she made her way across Main Street from Rice University to the museum on a weekly basis, it made financial sense.
As soon as she entered the Cockrell Butterfly Center, a mostly black butterfly with white streaks landed on her dress. Juliet was thrilled; the butterflies never landed on her.
She made a point to note, not only the species of butterfly itself, but exactly where and when it had landed, what part of the center she was standing in, what lotion and soap she had used earlier today—speaking of scent, did the caramel macchiato play a role?—what time of day it was, how long since she had washed this dress. Did her laundry detergent make a difference? Perhaps it was the fabric of her dress….
“Well, hello there stranger.”
Every bit of analysis in her head evaporated upon hearing that voice.
Juliet turned to see her JensenBradleyPaul hybrid with a Matthew voice and Gabriel attitude strolling toward her. He was dressed in a simple black t-shirt that showed off his admirable build, and a pair of jeans that revealed something even more impressive.
Upon closer reflection, none of those men had anything on this one.
This one was his own man.
3
It had been a long shot.
But Chance had lived his life, for the most part successfully, indulging in the occasional long shot.
Something deep inside of him told him that this one would work out. And wouldn’t you know it, the jackpot to end all jackpots had paid out.
With nothing more than a name, a gorgeous face, and an “escape every….” Chance had, no pun intended, taken a chance. Worst case scenario he was out the price of admission. The best case scenario was standing right in front of him. Once again, he thought just maybe his luck was about to change.
“You’re here,” she breathed, as though it was both a complete surprise and 100% expected at the same time.
Maybe not such a long shot after all.
Today, Chance didn’t have to read signals. The fact that Juliet was here was all the confirmation he needed that she was just as interested in him as he was in her. She looked even more beautiful in the daylight that filtered through the glass ceiling of the butterfly center than she had in the dark, muted lighting in the hall of gems and minerals last night.
“I am,” he replied. “I take it Simon didn’t work out?”
She gave that slightly raspy laugh that was beginning to do a heck of a lot more than just appeal to him. “No, he was…let’s just say, much more interesting on paper than in real life.”
“Well, in that case, remind me to burn my papers.”
She laughed again, but before the conversation could progress a large, blue butterfly landed on his shoulder.
“Oh! A Blue Morpho!” she gasped with delight. “I can’t believe it!”
Chance cocked half his mouth up in a grin. “Is this a good thing?”
“They’re my favorite,” she said, cautiously approaching him, her eyes growing wide with wonder as she observed the large black and blue butterfly. Chance accommodated her, not moving a muscle, lest his new wingman fly away.
She stared at it with that same look of concentration she’d held for the geode the night before. That look fascinated him. Usually the people he interacted with were experts at hiding their emotions, maintaining a look of perfect neutrality to keep anyone from reading their minds, or rather, their cards. Juliet’s face was a completely open book, revealing her excitement and interest in whatever it was she was concentrating on at the moment. It was refreshing, and very attractive.
“I always wondered what makes them chose one person or thing ove
r another. People say wearing colors helps, but I always come here in bright colors and…nothing.” She looked down at her white dress, which Chance found extremely bait-worthy, and laughed. “Today, I actually managed to attract something.”
“You certainly did,” he said with a broad grin.
She brought those lashes back up in his direction and fluttered them before laughing again. There was that big smile again, which ended far too quickly as her lips snapped down over her gums and teeth.
“So, Mr. Good-on-Paper didn’t work out? In that case, you’ll be happy to know that I am a high school dropout, who lives in his grandmother’s basement, subsisting on a diet of Cool Ranch Doritos and Red Bull, as I play video games for eight hours straight all day.
She allowed that smile to break through again. “In which case, I should warn you that I am a clingy attention whore, whose favorite pastime will be scrolling through your text message history and poking holes in condoms.”
“A veritable match made in heaven,” he said.
It was a fun little lark, but there was a definite tug at the back of Chance’s mind reminding him that he had plenty of reasons to play it close to the vest when it came to revealing too much about his personal life. He deftly stomped out that nagging little ember and relaxed into the smile Juliet was pointing his way.
“So, now that we’ve established that we are perfect for one another, what shall we do for our second date?”
“Second date, huh?” she inquired, raising an amused eyebrow.
“You’re right, I shouldn’t commandeer another man’s date. How about first and one-quarter date?”
She laughed at that. “I don’t know. We didn’t really get to do much on our ‘first’ date.’”
“Well I suppose we should rectify that oversight.”
“By doing what?” she challenged, raising an eyebrow.
Chance boldly came around to rest an arm on the small of her back and guide her along the path in the butterfly center. He was pleased to note that, after initially stiffening in surprise, she relaxed into the hand that came to rest gently on her hip. “How’s about we just wander and see where the day takes us?”
High Stakes: A Texas Heat Romance Page 2