Time Out, Valentine

by Melinda Dozier

He picked up his pace to stay by her side. “Uh, where exactly are we going?”

  She pointed across the street and eyed him quickly. “Over there. Coffee Beans Café.” She stepped off the curb. He held her back with his burly arm. Since when did forearms look so sexy?

  He nodded at the cross sign. “It’s still red.”

  Shrugging out of his grasp, she continued across. There were no cars. To hell with it. She turned to face him as she walked backward, she said, “Live a little, Ranter. Cross the street illegally. I dare you.”

  He rushed to her side, shaking his head. “You’re crazy.”

  Maybe she was, because she couldn’t understand why his gaze curled her toes or why his messed-up hair, from all his raking, had her wanting to run her own hands in them. She had sworn off men last night. Even chanting to Mother Earth. But did the Mother listen? No. Why would she, when her own head wouldn’t listen to herself?

  “Crazy or not, we’re partners. And I want, no I need a trip to Mexico. Come on.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him to the outside table, ready to explore the freakin’ Romance Special with Geeky Grant, the Manly Man.

  Chapter Three

  Sitting at the little outside table at the café seemed like a good idea, but now that the two were squished together, she didn’t think it was the best decision. She sipped her double mocha latte as Grant slid a mini laptop out of his satchel. This computer was different from the one at the office, and she snickered to herself. How many computers did he have? She bet he had a house full of them, and a whole Bill Gates mockup with lasers and all.

  He turned on the computer and lifted his glasses tighter to his face to stare at the screen. “So, what do we do first?”

  “We need to think of the most romantic dates in Portland, and they’ve got to be good. Unique.” She placed the cup in front of her.

  “Okay.” His long, lean fingers tapped away on the keyboard.

  She leaned in closer, close enough to smell his cologne, something real woodsy and perfect for him. He stopped clicking the keys and glanced at her, their mouths inches from one another. “Are you smelling me?”

  “No. I…” She huffed. Damn, he caught her. She couldn’t help herself. He smelled so good. “What are you doing?”

  He actually smiled. An endearing smile, and it was so sweet she wanted to reach up and feel his face. But she had some control. Smell or no smell, she wouldn’t touch him. “Are you actually googling date ideas?”

  His eyes wavered from her face, and his smile dropped. “Well, yeah. We’ve got to start somewhere.”

  “Why don’t we talk about our own favorite local dating spots—or haven’t you been to any?”

  “Of course I’ve been on dates. I’m a twenty-six year old man.”

  Seeing this as an opening and, hell, because she was just plain nosy, she had to ask. “So, do you have a girlfriend I’m going to have to worry about?”

  “Worry about? Why would my girlfriend worry about you?”

  Ouch…and damn. He had a girlfriend and from his words, he wouldn’t be interested in her anyway. “Well, maybe us working together like this will make her jealous. If we have to find the perfect dates, we might actually have to go on dates with each other.”

  He pushed his computer away so he could place his elbow on the table and stare directly in her eyes. “You want to date me?”

  “No, that’s not what I meant. Trust me. Girlfriends don’t like sharing, so us going out to test these date ideas should probably be discussed with her first.”

  His hand lingered over to her arm, and he stroked below her elbow in little circles that made her whole body warm. Completely unexpected, and totally inappropriate, if he had a girlfriend. “Alexia, I don’t have a girlfriend, so you can stop babbling about her. I just ended a relationship a few months ago. And if you wanted to date me, you should’ve said so.”

  She jerked her hand away from him, even if it felt oh-so-right, dammit. “I’m only saying we need to try out our ideas for this Valentine’s article.”

  “I’d be happy to.” He smiled, bringing his hand up to his chin and rubbing it. Oh, she’d love to feel his skin. It looked perfectly touchable—and masculine. Dammit to hell, Grant was manly.

  “Okay. So.” She cleared her throat and tore her eyes away from him. “We need ideas. And no googling.” She pointed at the computer. “Hmm. This is going to be hard.”

  Grant raised an eyebrow over his coffee cup. “That’s what she said.”

  When she met his eyes, they laughed together. A good laugh that they both needed, breaking the immense tension building around them. Nervous tension…right? “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “I’m not exactly what you expected.” He put down his cup and gazed at her with a challenge. “You should get to know me before you hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You’re projecting a strong dislike then.”

  “Well, let’s get to know one another. What better way than to date, huh?” She twirled a loose tendril of hair by her ear with her pointer finger.

  “You’re never afraid to speak your mind, are you?”

  “Never.”

  “What should be our first date then? Something special, different, unique.” He spoke the words as he typed them into a spreadsheet. One minute he was perfectly sexy and the next he was perfectly geeky.

  “How about climbing Rocky Butte? That’s really fun.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, but on a first date?”

  She fingered the lid on her disposable cup. This was actually starting to sound feasible. They could go out, have fun, but not be in a real relationship—an answer from Mother Earth. To hell with real boyfriends. To hell with all that baggage. Here was an opening to an in it for fun interlude that was exactly what she needed. Grant was looking mighty fine suddenly. “Then what’s your idea?”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “The opera? That’s romantic, right?”

  “What are we, ‘Pretty Woman’?”

  He laughed. A deep laugh that made her smile. “You’re right.”

  “Now you’re coming to your senses.”

  “Here’s what we’ll do. I think we each have our own ideas. Let’s brainstorm—alone—and then plan a date for each other. We’ll take turns, starting tonight.” He lifted her chin with his thumb. “Ladies first.” She couldn’t touch him, but he could definitely touch her. And this simple chin-tipping had her knees wobbling under the table.

  “Fair enough.” She drank her latte and looked at him as he dragged his computer closer to him, out of her sight. She tried to peek over his shoulder, but he moved it even more.

  He typed away as she planned mentally, staring off into space. She could do this. Plan a date when she’d given up on men. It made perfect sense. Why did her heart beat a little faster, though? She looked down at her empty coffee cup. Must be the coffee.

  Lexi rose to get herself an espresso this time, noticing Grant’s eyes on her every move. Ordering. Paying. Moving to the side to add sugar. She turned to smile at him. He smiled in return, leaning in his chair and cocking his head to the side. Sending a little wave in his direction had him smiling enough to show his teeth while a chuckle sounded across the room. He was really cute. Even with the glasses.

  This would be fun. To hell with dating for real. She would have fun and take a trip to goddamned Puerto Vallarta.

  Chapter Four

  Grant stood outside the address Lexi sent him via text a few hours ago. Club 180. This didn’t seem like a place full of Valentine-worthy romance, but he’d allowed her to plan a date first. He couldn’t back out. He wasn’t really the clubbing type. The last time he’d gone dancing—or whatever they called it—he was still in college, five years ago. Now, he had better things to do. He glanced down at his dark khaki pants and fitted button-up. Was it dressy enough? All the men who had walked through the entrance wore suits of some kind.

  He shrugged and checked his watch. Lexi w
as probably the type to be fashionably late, but he wouldn’t wait much longer. As if on cue, she materialized by his side wearing skintight black pants, a shimmery silver top and—shit—sexy as hell stilettos that made her almost as tall as his 6’ frame. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, even if a two-ton elephant ran over him.

  “You came.” A cute dimple appeared in her cheek, and her blue eyes shone under her dark blonde hair.

  He smirked, leaned into her and whispered, “That’s what she said.”

  She giggled. “There you go again.” She pulled her humongous purse onto her shoulder, hoop earrings bouncing in her ears. “Sorry I was late. I just got out of the salon an hour ago.”

  “You look great.” He perused her from toe to head, smiling when he landed on her smoky-shadowed eyes. “There’s something different about you.”

  She ran a hand down her hair. “It’s called ombre—black on the edges.”

  “You look fantastic.” He couldn’t help himself; his fingers grazed her arm up and down.

  She cocked her head. “Why did I never like you?”

  “Yeah, I’d like to know that, too.”

  She grabbed his hand and dragged him to the entrance. “Later. Let’s get this date started.”

  Inside, Grant observed the entire place in one sweep. This is why I don’t come to these kind of places. The first thing he noticed was the huge dance floor in the middle with a DJ booth in front. A couple made out a few feet away, not caring they were on display; a group of girls shook their asses on stage, taking pictures with their cell phones. It was like a scene from Saturday Night Fever, without the afros.

  Lexi leaned into him and yelled over the loud music, “Are you a clubbing virgin?”

  He shook his head, putting his arm around her waist, his safety zone all of a sudden. “No virgin here, but is there a quiet corner or something?”

  She laughed, bracelets jangling as she pulled him to the bar at the side of the room. Once they made it through a sea of bodies, she ordered, “I want Sex on the Beach.”

  “Excuse me?” Grant’s heart stopped for a moment. Then he realized his mistake, freakin’ clubbing rookie, and for a second he was ready to give her what she asked. He blamed the fuck-me stilettos.

  “What’s a nice guy like you doing in a place like this?”

  She wouldn’t say that if she knew where his thoughts led him. He gave his best smile. “Now I’m nice?” He shrugged. “I’ll take a beer.”

  As shot glasses and mugs clanked behind the bar, he cocked his head, and his eyes lingered lower to Lexi’s perfectly fit ass. This woman was walking and talking sin. She turned to look at him, her eyes peeking over her shoulder and she caught him. He pushed his glasses up on his nose and looked away. Hell, he didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. Women were complications and distractions, and he did not want that right now. Already been there, done that.

  Grant sipped his beer and surveyed the room around them—anywhere but at the siren next to him, with her fancy drink, an umbrella hanging off the side. Overhead lights strobed the room, gleaming in all directions. The DJ announced a new song, and a new crowd rushed to the dance floor, leaving them more alone in the back of the room. Thank God.

  It was stifling hot. He tugged his collar from his neck and rolled the sleeves of his white button-up. His glasses slid down his nose, forcing him to take them off and put them in his shirt pocket.

  Luckily in that part of the room, the music wasn’t so loud that they had to scream to converse. He only raised his voice a fraction to ask her the question he’d been wondering since they set foot in the place. “So, you think this is romantic enough for a Valentine’s date?”

  She batted her long lashes in his direction and smirked. “There’re low lights.”

  “Yeah and loud music, people all around.” To help prove his point, someone bumped him in the back, pushing him closer to Lexi. His hand circled her waist and rested on her hip.

  She sipped the drink, moving the umbrella with her other hand, then licked her lips. “It’s the place to be. All trendy couples find their way here.” She cocked her head. “What would make it more romantic? Kissing?”

  A slow smile formed, and he faced her. Not a bad idea. “Actually, yeah.” He placed his bottle on the table behind them, cracked his knuckles, and stretched his neck.

  She laughed nervously, putting her weight on another sexy as hell foot. “What? You’re gonna kiss me? For real?”

  “We need romance.” He grabbed her cup and put it next to his bottle. His gaze dropped to her mouth.

  “You kissing me won’t—”

  He placed his thumb on her lips. “Shhh. Stop talking so we can be romantic.”

  “Oh, um.” And she actually sighed—one second before his lips found hers and the bolt of lightning shot through his body.

  At first, she went still, as if frozen by his touch instead of electrified like him. And damn, the electricity kicked it up a notch once his hands rubbed her back, to her shoulders, feeling her bare skin under her sparkly tank top. He’d been with plenty of women, but never had he experienced a first kiss like this. Electrifying.

  Then she softened to him, molding her body to his and opening her lips, exploring his own. Her hands reached around his neck, and that was a sign. She damn well felt that spark, too. He kissed her more deeply, bringing one hand behind her neck, and pulled her head to his. Exploring, molding, feeling. He couldn’t get enough of her.

  The realization startled him. This was dangerous. Too damn much.

  He withdrew, his breathing rough, and stared at her flushed face. Before she could say anything—because she always had something to say—he snatched his beer and gulped the rest to calm his nerves. She still didn’t move.

  She slapped her hand against his chest. “What the hell was that?”

  Was she pissed? He shrugged. “A kiss.”

  “Well, we didn’t agree on kissing as part of our dating assignment.” Her mouth set in a straight line of annoyance. “I mean, that was more than a kiss, it was like…I don’t know…devouring.”

  He smiled to himself as he grabbed her drink and handed it to her. “Devouring, huh? I like that.”

  “Grant the Ranter knows how to kiss.” She stared, shook her head then took a sip of her warming drink.

  Now his neck heated, and he didn’t like it. He’d never let her know how her little comment nourished him in ways she wouldn’t understand. Especially after dealing with a desperate girlfriend all last year. Becky never trusted him, always nagged, and was never satisfied. Dating his boss’s daughter hadn’t been a good idea. But about four months ago, it all hit the fan, and he broke it off with her, ultimately ending his job in the process. He terminated any kind of association with women in that way if he could help it.

  Yet, here he was making out with one hot co-worker. Why did he mix business with pleasure again? “You’re not so bad yourself, Sexy Lexi.”

  “Oh, I like it. We have nicknames for each other now.” She pinched his cheek. “This date is going even better than I thought it would.” The lights darkened and a slower song blared from the DJ booth. Changing the whole mood around them—fitting to his gloomy thoughts. If she liked his kiss and enjoyed their date, why in the hell did she object to being partnered with him in the first place?

  “So, can I ask you something?” He downed the last drops of his beer. “Why did you not want to be set up with me from the get-go?”

  “Yeah, about that—my boyfriend, well ex now, broke up with me last night.”

  “That might explain part of it, but why me and not the other guys at work?”

  She looked at the dance floor instead of him. “I don’t know. Ever since you started working at Time Out, you gave off some strong signals.”

  He leaned back against the wall. “Like what?”

  Sighing, she took her time to answer. “You don’t notice me.”

  Grant puffed an audible breath. Seriously? She was wrong about that one. �
�I notice you more than I care to admit.”

  “Yeah, right.” She reached over him to put her empty glass on the table, accidentally brushing his shoulder in the process, again signaling a jolt of awareness through his body.

  He positioned himself in front of her, so he’d really get his message across. “I notice the way you walk, how you scrunch up your nose when you don’t like something, those damn black painted fingernails, your laughter when you read the daily comics in the newspaper. I didn’t even know people still did that.”

  A sweet smile erupted on her face. “Oh, you are romantic.”

  He rubbed his nose and perused the room. “Only observant.”

  “I think I want to kiss you again.” She grabbed his shirt in her fist, yanking him closer.

  Shit. This was extremely hard to ignore. There was a spark between them all right, but to hell with fighting it. It had been a long time. Much too long. “I’m game.”

  She swung him alongside the wall, thrusting her pillowy soft breasts into his chest, smiling in his eyes. “Be careful what you wish for, Grant.” Then her lips devoured his. And he devoured her right back. Feeling each other with their fingers, hands, even her leg swung around his calf. It was hot. Now they were that couple. The couple who made out at a bar and caused everyone else to be uncomfortable. Like the one at the entrance when they walked in—and he didn’t care as long as he had Lexi’s undivided attention.

  His hands searched her body, feeling the soft skin under the shiny top, and he retreated surprised by the metal disc in the indentation above her belly. A goddamn belly ring—and it was sexier than he ever imagined. He wanted to feel it on his tongue and in his mouth. Instead, he leaned down and kissed her neck, kissing and nipping at her ear.

  When someone bumped into them again, she ended the kiss, stepping back, pulling her shirt down in front. He couldn’t even form words—or thoughts, for that matter. This woman got to him. Yet, the cold air and the rhythm of the song finally brought him back to his senses. “Jesus.” He ran his hand through his hair and put his glasses on, trying not to stare at the woman who turned him inside out.