Blind Date Bet

by Nicole Flockton

  Blind Date Bet

  A Man’s Best Friend Romance

  Nicole Flockton

  Blind Date Bet

  Copyright © 2018 Nicole Flockton

  EPUB Edition

  The Tule Publishing Group, LLC

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  First Publication by Tule Publishing Group 2019

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-1-949707-44-1

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  Dedication

  To Shey and Shawn

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  The Man’s Best Friend series

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  An alarm blared, loud and obnoxious, the second Isabella Knowles walked out of the clothes shop. She froze, glanced over her shoulder, and saw the store assistant marching toward her.

  What the hell?

  Reaching into her handbag, she rummaged for the receipt. No way was she going to be accused of stealing when she’d paid for the items in the bag fair and square.

  Before the girl could reach her, movement outside of the shop registered with her. People were dashing down the mall, not in an I need the bathroom kind of way but more in the get me the hell out of here way.

  “Ma’am.” The assistant tapped her on the shoulder. “Can you please move? I need to secure the shop.”

  “What’s going on?” Isabella asked. The alarm suddenly stopped its screeching.

  “Attention, shoppers,” a disembodied voice crackled around the store, echoing in the mall. “Due to unforeseen circumstances, we are evacuating the mall. Shoppers, please make your way to the closest exit in an orderly fashion. Thank you.”

  The siren fired up again, and Isabella choked back a laugh and muttered, “I’ll make my way to the nearest exit in an orderly fashion. Can’t guarantee everyone else will.”

  “Ma’am, you heard the announcement, can you please leave the shop?” The assistant’s voice had gone from semi-polite to downright rude.

  “Sure, but will you girls be okay getting out?” They’d done plenty of fire drills at school; a cool head made things a lot easier for everyone. Others didn’t feel this way so much, as evidenced by the stampede in front of the shop.

  “Yes, ma’am. Now leave.”

  Isabella blew out a long breath and shrugged. Fine, they didn’t need her help. Making sure to pop her car keys into her pocket before exiting the store, Isabella made her way out into the crowd and was immediately swept up in the wave of people.

  She weaved her way through the horde to get to the side of the rush where it wasn’t so chaotic and she didn’t fear getting stomped on.

  At the nearest fire escape, a swarm of people all vied to get through the door first. There was a reason why they taught the kids to leave the classroom and schools in a line—less chance of a bottleneck at the exits.

  Looking around, she noticed that the crowds were thinning; at least in the parking lot there would be plenty of room for people to spread out. The siren still blared, and if she strained her ears, she was sure she could make out the faint tones of the approaching first responders.

  Or wait… no, that sounded like a child crying.

  Forgetting everything drummed into her during evacuation training, Isabella spun around and worked her way through the mass of bodies. To her left, she noticed a little boy crying; he looked like one of the second graders from the school where she taught.

  “Where the heck are his parents?” she murmured under her breath as she made her way toward him.

  “Ma’am, you’re going in the wrong direction.”

  Even though everything in her was screaming to get to the little boy, she swiveled to face the person who’d stopped her progress.

  “I’m a school teacher, and I see one of my students. He’s alone and I need to get him.”

  Standing in front of her was a fine specimen of a man. The cliched phrase tall, dark, and handsome sprang to mind, but the description suited him. His rugged appearance matched his deep voice.

  “This child isn’t your responsibility. The authorities will deal with him. You need to be concerned for your own safety.”

  Isabella ran her gaze over him, taking in the faded denim jeans he was wearing, the tight T-shirt that molded his broad shoulders and hugged his chest. He definitely wasn’t a store security guard or even a first responder, so she didn’t really need to follow his instructions. If he was a police officer directing her out, she’d listen. But the guy was a complete stranger. Where did he get off telling her what she could and couldn’t do?

  “Actually, as someone who is in charge of the child’s education, yes, he is my responsibility. Now if you’ll excuse me, he’s run off and I need to find him.”

  She gripped her shopping bags tighter in preparation to brush past him, but he stepped in front of her, blocking her way. “Are you always this stubborn, or is it just my lucky day that you’re being obstinate?” He practically growled at her.

  Isabella sucked in a breath. “I don’t know who you are, but you don’t get to talk to me that way. Now please move so I can make sure the little boy is okay.”

  “Ma’am, if you go after the boy, you’re only making things more difficult for the men and women trained in these circumstances. For your safety, and the safety of others, I suggest you turn around and exit the mall.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest, giving her the impression of a brick wall.

  Who is this guy?

  The urge to argue more built inside of her. She’d spent the last few years answering to no one but herself. Unfortunately, she had to admit this stranger was correct. Rationally, it was stupid to go after the boy she’d caught only a glimpse of. All the training she’d completed reiterated not to put yourself in danger.

  “Fine.” Without waiting to see his self-satisfied smile, Isabella whirled around, her short skirt floating around her legs in a swish.

  By the time she reached the exit, there was no crowd and she made her escape. Cars streamed out of the parking lot. Cars and trucks with flashing lights flooded in. A shiver rippled down her spine. Whatever was going on was serious, and the guy who’d demanded she leave had probably done her a favor.

  But no way was she going to admit that to him if she ever saw him again, which was never going to happen.

  Chapter Two

  Ethan needed his head exa
mined.

  There was no other explanation as to why he was standing in front of a coffee shop, under the simmering Texas summer sun, wearing a bright red fedora. Never, on his grandfather’s grave would he partake in a slam-dunk shots contest with his buddy, Lincoln Forrest, who was in the army, ever again.

  Sober, he never would’ve agreed to a blind date, not after the time Linc had talked him into meeting Kathy Birdland. Talk about disaster from the moment she opened her mouth. He shuddered now remembering the high-pitched twang she emitted and the tobacco-stained teeth that had greeted him when she smiled. He was surprised he hadn’t landed in the Guinness Book of World Records under the shortest date category. Later, he’d found out the real Kathy Birdland had chickened out and paid some random woman fifty bucks to go on the date with him.

  And yet, here he waited, on the sidewalk in downtown San Antonio, about to repeat the same mistake.

  What he needed to do was swear off tequila shots.

  Tequila had led him to wearing a red fedora so school teacher Isabella Knowles would recognize him. He should’ve gone with the more obvious I’m-holding-a-red-rose-because-I’m-a-sucker-on-a-blind-date look. As it was, people were glancing warily at him as they passed, no doubt wondering if he was a pimp or a wannabe drug dealer. Ethan glanced at his watch again. Still another five minutes until his supposed date was due to turn up.

  Linc had assured Ethan Isabella was hot. As in H-O-T, hot. She didn’t wear glasses. Wasn’t a spinster with fifty cats. Had all her teeth, which weren’t stained yellow. Didn’t need to dye the gray out of her hair.

  He automatically reached down to scratch the back of Sam’s head, but he met fresh air. Of course, his dog wasn’t on this date. He’d left Sam at the base to enjoy her weekend. Although having his K-9 partner standing beside him would distract him from waiting to see if Isabella resembled the bride of Chucky or a Victoria Secret’s runway angel.

  “Umm, I know this is going to sound really weird, but are you Ethan Masters?”

  Holy smokes, her voice. Sexy, sultry like a good malt whiskey sliding down his throat. He only hoped her looks matched the voice. What would that voice sound like whispering in his ear when they were in the throes of passion?

  Whoa, slow down, airman.

  He turned slowly, keeping his eyes down. The first thing he saw were bright purple toenails with white flowers painted on the big toes. Straps of gold crisscrossed the tops of her feet.

  A delicate gold chain of tiny hearts encircled one slender ankle. He failed in not imagining those tanned legs wrapped around his waist. The black fabric of her skirt swirled just above her knees and a red shirt was tucked into it.

  The V-neck of her top displayed a hint of cleavage, enough to entice but not enough to be tasteless. Finally, he lifted his gaze to her face. A pair of sunglasses covered her eyes, but he was still able to make out her high cheekbones and luscious, plump lips. Ethan bit back a laugh at the red fedora sitting atop her head. There was something about her though that pinged in his memory bank. Like he’d met her before, but he couldn’t remember where.

  The sunglasses lowered, and a flash of blue ice glared at him. “Are you quite finished with your perusal? Do I pass muster? Or do I need to work on something?”

  The tone, he’d heard the snappiness before, and it was nothing like her sultry question only seconds ago.

  Damn, I wish I could remember.

  In his job, he needed to make a quick study of his surroundings and people. Even the most innocent-looking person or object could have a bomb hidden on them. Usually, when he made his observations, he was infinitely more subtle than he had been while checking out Isabella.

  “Sorry. Yes. I’m Ethan Masters, and no, you don’t need to work on anything.”

  Not the best first impression to make on his blind date that was for sure, but he could twist it around so that his last impression was the one that stuck in her mind. He could do with a little distraction while he was stateside, and, for once, Linc hadn’t lied.

  Ethan slammed the brakes on those thoughts. It was a coffee date and he wasn’t a player like Linc. It had been a long while since he’d had anything resembling a serious relationship. Not to say that a long-term relationship didn’t interest him. He wanted to settle down, have the wife, house, and kids. He just had to find the right woman who wanted the same future. His mom was constantly dropping hints about not getting any younger and wanting to enjoy her grandchildren.

  “Really?” She drawled the word out so it became four syllables instead of two. “Good to know.”

  Fuck. He should’ve let her comment slide. He needed to do something to salvage this date, because he would never live it down with the guys, and especially Linc, if word got around he’d struck out yet again. Not to mention he really wanted to find out if they had met before. “I like your hat, which means you’re Isabella Knowles. Right?” he asked with a grin and touched his own.

  A small answering smile lifted the corners of her lips. “Thank you. I like yours too. And, yes, I’m Isabella.”

  And like that, they were back on an even keel. He wasn’t usually this inept with women…

  He canted his head toward the door of the cafe. “Coffee?”

  “Sure, that’s what we’re here for, isn’t it?”

  He straightened his spine even more as another burst of familiarity washed over him.

  Okay, so maybe they weren’t quite on an even keel yet.

  Ethan held the door open for her. “After you.”

  Her exotic, spicy scent teased his nostrils as she brushed past him. It suited her sassy responses to him.

  “Why don’t you see if you can grab a table, and I’ll order for us?” Her raised eyebrow made him quickly add, “Or we can order together and then find a table.”

  Isabella smiled, a little less frosty than her previous ones. “I’ll have a large latte with an extra shot, thanks.”

  She turned and her skirt lifted, giving him a teasing look at her long, golden legs before it settled down. Her hips swayed as she walked to a vacant table in the corner.

  Oh no, it couldn’t be, could it?

  The way Isabella’s skirt floated around her legs unlocked the memory. The movement, then and just now, reminded him of leaves swirling on a gust of wind in the dessert, fierce and free.

  Was Isabella Knowles the woman from the mall the other week? The day when one of the largest shopping centers in San Antonio had been evacuated due to a bomb scare. The same woman who’d argued with him about leaving the center because of a small child.

  No, it couldn’t be. With her hat on, as well as her sunglasses, she looked nothing like the woman who’d argued with him. And it was clear she didn’t recognize him either. Guess the Hollywood stars knew something when they donned baseball caps and sunglasses to be incognito.

  Maybe he was suffering a bit of sunstroke after standing outside waiting for her to arrive. Yeah, that was it. He was superimposing one event on top of another.

  Order placed, he weaved through the tables, carrying a plate with two slices of lemon pound cake. He’d taken a chance that Isabella liked lemon; if not, he’d get her whatever she wanted.

  He halted two feet away from the table, Isabella wasn’t facing him, so she couldn’t see his approach.

  Shit, it was her—the stubborn woman from the mall. Now that she’d taken her sunglasses and hat off, there was no mistake. Isabella’s hair fell in soft curls around her shoulders, some loose strands framing her face like it had the day they’d clashed.

  Great, now what do I do?

  Stay or go?

  Man, working his way around this date was like walking through a minefield. Every step, or in his case today, every word, led to disaster. At least when he had to work a dangerous site he had Sam by his side, guiding him safely through the treacherous ground. Her eagle nose was able to scent out explosives in seconds. Somehow, he didn’t think his K-9 partner could sniff her way out of this predicament the date had fallen int
o.

  He wasn’t one to bail on a date, unless they failed to show up, so he’d stay and maybe once she recognized him they’d laugh about it and have a good time.

  “Drinks will be here shortly,” he said as he sat and set the plate down in the middle of the table.

  “Ooh, lemon pound cake, my favorite.”

  Score one for Team Masters.

  “Awesome, help yourself.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.” She broke off a corner and popped it in her mouth. Her eyes widened—was there something wrong with the cake? She began to cough before swallowing the morsel. “You. It’s you. The bossy guy from the mall. Is this some kind of joke?”

  Damn, he’d been found out.

  “And you’re the stubborn woman who argued about leaving.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Really? So that’s how it’s going to be? I don’t know why I bothered coming here,” she said under her breath, loud enough for him to hear.

  Yeah, this was turning out to be another blind date from hell. Never again was he going to consider letting himself be set up.

  The date was a bust; might as well blow it up altogether.

  “Don’t you realize how dangerous it is to ignore evacuation alarms and instructions? That by going off on your own—”

  “I’m sorry, who died and put you in charge?”

  God, this woman was infuriating, Linc would be getting an earful from him the next time he saw him.

  No more bets.

  “It’s my job to keep people safe. Believe me, I’ve seen the damage that can be done by someone not following instructions.”

  The hat was causing his head to itch. He reached up and took it off. Immediately all animation drained from Isabella’s face. Ethan scanned the restaurant for any sign of danger. His gaze narrowed on the guy standing by the door, hand in pocket, but he relaxed when the patron pulled out a pack of gum. The other people in the café were either looking at their phones, working on laptops, talking, or gazing out the window. Everything looked harmless.