The Hot Corner (21 page)

I was overwhelmed already and we hadn’t even stepped out of the doorway yet. I took the flowers and turned toward the miniature hotel kitchen. “Let me put these in some water.” I emptied the ice bucket and filled it with the flowers. Brad laughed, and I couldn’t help laughing with him.

“I should have thought of a vase.”

I smiled as I arranged my pretty yellow flowers. “I think it has a certain something just like this. I like it.”

“Me, too. You look great, Dani.”

He was in jeans and a dark blue T-shirt. “You do, too. Are we going to a fair? Because you know I don’t like—”

“Heights,” he said, grinning. “No, I’m not taking you to a fair, although I’d like to get you on a Ferris wheel again someday.”

“Bastard! That was the worst.” We’d been up so high, and he’d delighted in shaking the car to make me scream and hold on to him for dear life.

“I don’t remember it being the worst. I remember you practically crawling into my lap. Plus, I employed my special distraction techniques, and then you had a fine time.”

His method of distraction had been to kiss me until I was dizzy from him instead of the height. I supposed I wouldn’t mind a repeat performance if given the chance, but I’d still rather stay away from roller coasters.

“You might have made up for terrorizing me,” I said, and he laughed again.

He took my hand and brushed his lips against my knuckles. “Please, forgive me.” His warm voice and sparkling eyes were irresistible.

“You were forgiven long ago.” At least, for that. “Now, where are you taking me?”

He linked his fingers with mine and grinned. “That’s for me to know and you to find out. Come on, Red. We’ve got a lot of fun ahead of us.”

No amount of pestering would crack him. He just smiled and shrugged as he navigated the streets of Los Angeles. Despite my having no idea where we were going, the sun was shining, he had the whole day off, and I was having fun.

“Tell me it’s not a baseball game,” I said.

He laughed. “Hey, I thought you loved baseball.”

I pursed my lips as if I had to think about it, and he poked me in the side.

“It’s okay, I suppose,” I said. “But I’m already baseballed out and we’re only ten games into the season. Football is much more exciting. Every game means something.”

Brad snorted as he made a left turn. “Don’t think I don’t know where you got your pen name, woman. You realize your football crush is both retired and married.”

I felt my cheeks heating. “Yeah, well, so what? It’s a fake name.” It wasn’t like I could have used Reynolds. Though I’d doodled that a hell of a lot more than Young.

“Baseball is a thinking man’s sport. I would imagine you’d appreciate the physics, the gamesmanship involved.”

I tilted down my sunglasses and gave him a baleful look. “In what world would you ever think I’d appreciate physics? You had to help me with those stupid science classes I took.”

“Ah, I love science. Chemistry, biology . . .” His voice caressed the words as he stroked my hand with his thumb. “We were both good at those.”

Goose bumps were rising on my flesh where he was touching me. “I don’t think our versions of those were what my professors were looking for.”

“But it was fun.”

His smirk didn’t annoy me this time. “Yes, it was.”

“I’d be happy to help you with those again.”

“I’m sure you would, but we’re not in school anymore.”

“I beg to differ. I’m about to school you in a major way.” He parked the car with a flourish and turned to me with a big grin. “We’re here.”

I’d been so focused on Brad that I hadn’t noticed where we were going. A laugh bubbled out of me as I took in the scene. “Miniature golf? I haven’t played that in years.” Not since the last time Brad had taken me.

“Me neither.” There was something in his voice that made me wonder if that had been the last time he’d played, too.

“If I recall correctly,” I said, “I beat you.” That was a lie. I’d never beaten him, but I’d gotten close.

He shook his head as he pushed open his door. “I know you’re getting older, Red, but I didn’t think your memory would be going already.” Before I could smack him, he was out of his seat and headed around to open my door.

“I have a very good memory, I’ll have you know.”

He took my hand and helped me out, not releasing me as he shut the door and pulled us toward the entrance. “You have a selective memory if you think you ever beat me. I wonder if they have the anthill hole here.” His smile made it obvious that he knew they did and he was delighted by it.

“Ass.”

He made a big show of looking behind us. “I do have a fine one, I must admit.” I would have smacked said fine ass, but he had my hand in his and I didn’t want to let go. “Don’t worry, I like yours, too.”

I rolled my eyes, not that he could see them behind my shades. “I wasn’t remotely worried.”

“You should be. It might distract you and make you lose.”

“You can try.” Two could play that game.

Brad hip-checked me. “Don’t be ridiculous. Go pick out your ball.”

Well, I’d tried. There were golf balls in every color, and I picked purple. “Still your favorite color, I see,” Brad said. He grabbed a bright blue ball and we stepped onto the course. “Ladies first.”

I lined up my ball and managed to knock it through the windmill in one try. Brad grinned. “You might have gotten better at this.”

“Just natural talent.”

He laughed as his ball followed the same path mine did. When we walked around to the green, his was closest to the hole. “I think you knocked mine out of the way,” I said.

“Tough titties,” he said, knocking his in for a two. I managed to do the same, despite his making a big show of stretching, his T-shirt pulling tight across his chest. It was distracting, but I was a woman on a mission. When he turned toward the next hole, I flipped open a button on my shirt.

“Since we tied,” he said, “why don’t you go—” His eyes bulged as he got a look down my shirt. “Forget what I said in the car. Golf is clearly the best sport in the world.”

I laughed, triumphant, and lined up my shot while he ogled me.

“I don’t remember you stooping to this level when we used to golf,” he said.

Silly man. “No, all I did was rub against you at any opportunity, and to pout and ask you how to putt so you’d put your arms around me and I could press my butt back against you and get you all worked up.”

Brad grinned. “I liked that technique. Do you need a putting refresher?”

“You wish,” I said, wiggling my hips for effect as I took my swing.

“More than you know.” His hands were on my hips and his lips were at my ear. He nipped my lobe gently, and I was grateful he was holding on to me because I might have hit the turf if he hadn’t been. I had no idea where my ball had gone and could only hope I hadn’t launched it onto another hole.

“You cheated,” I managed to say as I turned in his arms. He kept his hands at my waist and smiled.

“I can’t help it if you’re easily distracted. Plus, I haven’t touched you in a week. I had to rectify that.”

“You haven’t kissed me either.” He was so close and he was sexy and I wanted him.

“I did so. I kissed your knuckles.”

I pouted. “That’s not the same.”

“Maybe I was waiting for you to kiss me. You didn’t use to be shy about it.”

I wasn’t an idiot. I could hear the challenge in his voice. Before I could talk myself out of it, my hands were in his hair and my lips were on his. Heat that didn’t have anything to do with the sunshine blasted through me as he pulled me against him, his hands gripping my ass. I forgot everything except the feel of his lips and his hands and that hard body pressed against mine.

When we broke apart we were both gasping for air, though Brad managed to grin even as he caught his breath. “It’s a damn good thing this place is almost empty during school hours.”

He had a point. I hadn’t even thought of all the young minds we could be soiling with our too-hot-for-mini-golf display. “You made me forget where we were.”

Brad laughed and held me in a hug. “Can you forget again?”

I wanted nothing more, but I pushed away. “Ask me when we’re not in broad daylight. Where did my ball go?”

“They’re right here.” He gestured toward his crotch, and I held my putter like a baseball bat. His jaw dropped. “Never mind. I think it’s over there.” I looked where he pointed and saw my ball sitting on hole nine, when we were only on hole two.

“I get a do-over. You cheated.”

“It wasn’t cheating. It was distracting. Had you been fully focused, you never would have pulled the ball.”

I rolled my eyes. “Do I get another shot or not?”

“Sure, if you want to take a two-stroke penalty.”

He knew I hated to lose. We both did. “Are you really doing this?”

“It appears so.” Brad thrust out his chin. Well, we’d see who was smug at the end of the game.

“All right, but don’t say you weren’t warned.” I strolled over to my ball, prepared to take a shot across the path and get back on the green.

“What does that mean?” he called, looking wary. Good.

“You’ll see.” I knocked my ball and somehow managed to get it back to the second hole, ending up with a three on that round. Brad got another two and had the lead. For now. When he started to take his shot, I grabbed his dick and he missed the ball completely.

“Dani!” The shock in his voice had me laughing uncontrollably.

“You asked for it.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

Damn right I did. “Yes.”

“Okay, Red. Bring it.”

What followed was perhaps the dirtiest game of miniature golf known to man. At the next hole, he copped a feel of my breast, and my aim went far to the left. The round after that, I bent over just as he was starting to swing, and his eyes went down my shirt instead of on the ball. He swung hard, and the ball sailed past the hole. On my next turn, he lifted his shirt to dry off his non-sweaty brow, and my eyelids fluttered as I barely nicked the ball on my swing.

“You’re gonna need to try harder than that if you want to score,” he said, brushing my ass as he prepared for his shot.

We were tied heading into the last hole.

“Well, look at that. It appears to be . . . the anthill hole.” The glee in Brad’s voice was clear as day, and I scowled. It seemed so innocuous compared to the other holes. No windmill was waiting to swipe the ball away, no tricky rocks or ramps blocked the path. It was just an elevated hole to hit the ball dead center, or it would roll back down. I hated that hole.

“How about we play seventeen again?” I asked.

“Oh no, big talker. You’re playing the final hole. We need to crown a winner.”

“How about we call it a tie?” I said, giving him my sweetest smile.

“No way. To the victor go the spoils, and I plan on being very well spoiled.”

I shot him a look. “Just how do you intend to be spoiled?”

“Back rubs, foot rubs, making you my love slave for the next week—”

I elbowed him in the gut.

“What? I thought you’d enjoy that.”

I licked my lips. “I’ll have sex with you if we call it a tie right now.”

“Sex on the first date? Ms. Pierce, I am scandalized!” he shouted in his best imitation of a Southern woman. He fanned himself as if he had the vapors, and I doubled over laughing.

Once I’d recovered, I straightened and stared him down. “Take it or leave it, pal.”

“Well, it is a tempting offer.” He glanced between me and the anthill several times. “But I think I can get you in bed regardless, so we play through.”

Overconfident jerk. I glared as he lined up his shot. He sent the ball straight down the green, and it came to a halt within a foot of the hill. “I’ll just finish my shot so as to not be in your way.” And then, because he was an ass, he sent his ball up the hill with perfect speed, knocking it in the hole for a two. I scowled as he did a victory dance around the hole before fishing out his ball. “Your turn.”

I sighed as I put my ball on the divot and prepared for my usual loss. Before I could swing, Brad stepped behind me and pressed his body against mine, his hands joining mine on the putter. “It’s all about the touch.”

“I can’t think when you’re touching me.” Well, I could, but all I was thinking about was pushing him to the ground and having my way with him on the eighteenth green.

“Good. Don’t think. Just feel.” He was far too talented at making me do just that—forget to think and get caught up in the feeling of being with him. Before I knew what was happening, the putter was swinging and my ball was on its way toward the anthill. Unlike Brad’s, it didn’t stop a foot away. It went all the way up and fell into the hole.

“I won!”

His warm laugh rumbled through me. “It appears you did. How about that?”

I whirled around in his arms and gave him a smacking kiss. “I won! I am victorious! You lose!”