Keeping Gemma (Holiday Cove 2)

“I bet.” Gemma smiled at me as she took another sip from her tall glass of dark beer. “I saw the tats…when you were in the ER.”

I nodded, a dangerous smile tugging at my lips. “You like what you saw?”

Gemma blushed slightly and it turned me on. I’d finally gotten to her. She’d so effortlessly batted away all my previous attempts at flirting with her, it was entertaining to have struck a soft spot.

“Ha! You did. What about you? Any tats?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m pretty boring, I guess.”

“Hardly.”

She ducked her chin and I grinned all the more.

Half a heartbeat later, she looked up, a renewed fire in her eyes. “The other night, when I was there with you and your friends for dinner, he called you ‘Player’. Ya wanna tell me what that’s all about?” Gemma grinned at me and ran her finger around the rim of her empty glass.

Damn it if she didn’t flip the tables on me.

“Shit. You heard that, huh?” I ran a hand along my scruff coated jawline.

“Uh-huh.” She licked her lips. “So spill. What’s the story? I know those call signs aren’t just given out for no good reason, and I’m pretty sure there’s a bang up story behind yours.” Her eyes were bright and sparkled.

“All right, all right.” I hesitated. It wasn’t like me to shy away from a good story, but the story behind my call wasn’t exactly one that painted me in the light I wanted Gemma to see me in. “Like all the best stories…it started with a bet.”

“Oh Lord,” Gemma said, giggling slightly as she rolled her eyes.

“This Chief Petty Officer bet me that I couldn’t bag the Admiral’s daughter. She was this prissy, high society girl, and I was this young rebellious type. A match made in hell, right?” I paused, carefully considering my next words. “Well, I got her, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Gemma echoed, laughing.

I grinned. “Well, it turned into this game. Guys would bet me that I couldn’t get a certain girl. I’d prove them wrong and take their money. So, I became “Player.”

“Just like Vegas,” Gemma teased, not a hint of disgust on her face. Instead, her eyes sparkled and glowed with amusement. “Did this game have a name?”

“Shit…I should have known you’d ask that…”

“Come on, fess up Rosen.”

“Fuck ‘Em By Friday". Which, incidentally, was the only rule. As long as I…fulfilled that…I’d win and collect.”

She dissolved into uncontrollable giggles and I rolled my eyes playfully. “That’s all you’re gonna get out of me for now. You know all my secrets.”

Gemma smiled and my heart kicked up another few beats per minute. Her hand was still on mine and her thumb had started tracing little circles on the ridge of knuckles.

“You wanna get out of here?” I asked, leaning in close enough that our faces were only a few inches apart.

Gemma smiled. “Time for my tour?”

“I know the perfect place to start.”

24

“Can we go see the planes?” Gemma asked when we got up the long drive to my house.

I cut a glance toward the museum. The protesters had disappeared, but something told me they’d be back full force in the morning. Possibly in greater numbers and even more rapid if O’Keefe was the one paying them to show up every day. I had no doubt that he’d kick up the pressure every day until the third day when I was due to sign over the museum.

“I understand if you don’t want to…” Gemma added, at my hesitation.

“No, no. It’s fine. Let’s go.” I turned off the Jeep and hopped out, hustling as best as I could to let her out, but by the time I reached her door, she’d already let herself out.

“You know this is an Army Jeep, don’t you?” She said, grinning as she considered my ride.

I laughed. “I’m aware.”

“What’s a Navy boy like you, doing with an Army toy like this?”

“I like Army toys…” I replied slowly, letting my words curl and twist into a seductive drawl.

Gemma stepped closer. “Oh, really?”

“Mm-hmm.”

She had no idea what she was getting herself into. The more she dangled herself in front of me, the more I wanted her, and the hotter it was going to be when I finally got her in my bed.

I brought my mouth down, ready to kiss her for the first time, but at the last second, she tugged away and stepped back, out of my reach.

Her little bob and weave made me want her more.

“Come along. Your tourist is getting antsy,” she called back to me as she sauntered off across the gravel drive. I hung back another moment, salivating over the way her ass swayed with each stride. Her walk wasn’t something she’d practiced or put together in an effort to seduce and distract. But damn it if it didn’t have that effect all on its own. She wore a tight pair of dark jeans and a fitted tank top that displayed her curves to perfection, and it took every ounce of strength to tear my eyes from her perky ass and catch up to her.