Suddenly, Darla held his hand. “Tell me when you’re ready.” She motioned them forward. “Let’s walk.”
He wasn’t sure she could have done anything more perfect in that moment, giving him a pass but also giving him an open door, not to mention her understanding. A few seconds passed and he gave a quick nod. They started walking again, both staring up at the dark sky, dotted with stars. And with each step, he felt himself relax. It was a comfortable night, no longer humid and not yet cold and all the more enjoyable because of Darla.
“Are you keeping your morning show focused on Stepping Up throughout the auditions?”
“Only a short segment for each show,” she said. “I’m afraid to overdo it and drive away viewers who crave the usual things on the show. What about you?” She pointed and they turned down a tree-lined street with rows of condolike housing.
“I’m going to incorporate the travel destinations as much as I can. For instance, my dad’s coming to Vegas Week. We’re doing a mechanical-bull-riding competition with a group of ex-rodeo stars. Unfortunately, we couldn’t get it booked at the same hotel as the show, so it’s at a property owned by the company. The winner takes ten thousand dollars to their charity of choice, provided by the studio.”
“That’s an awesome idea, Blake. I love it. And you know, that’s right up my alley. I am a rancher’s daughter.”
“I can see the down-home country girl in you,” he said. “An accident-prone down-home country girl who must have driven her parents crazy.”
“My father tried to keep me away from the ranch action,” she admitted. “It never worked. Proven by the six times that I had to get stitches.”
“You’ll have to show me the scars.”
She held up her elbow. “That’s the only one you can see.” She grinned. “Well, when I have my clothes on.”
“Like I said, you’ll have to show me the scars.”
“I’ll think about it,” she teased playfully. “Did you inherit any of your dad’s bull-riding skill?”
“I have an ex-rodeo champion for a father. If I couldn’t ride, he’d have had me hung up by my toes for the bulls.”
“I’ve ridden a mechanical bull a time or two,” she declared.
“No way.”
She nodded. “Way.”
“Prove it. If you come to the event and ride, I’ll personally donate to the charity of your choice myself.”
She laughed. “I’m in. Well, as long as it’s not a conflict with filming.”
“It’s the day after Vegas Week ends.”
“Then get your checkbook ready. I’ll be there.”
“Good,” he said, more than prepared to plan six weeks ahead with her. “We can fly out to L.A. together when it’s over. Which brings me back to my earlier question. How are you handling the flying you’re doing?”
She snorted. “Who said I’m handling it?”
“That good, huh?”
“That good.” She stopped in front of a building. “This is me. How far away are you?”
“A cab ride,” he said, not really wanting to tell her the high-end area he lived in, because it had taken him years of doing his show and investing well to get there. She would get there, too, probably sooner than he had.
“I see,” she said, biting her bottom lip and gesturing toward the door. “You want to come up?”
He wanted to come up, all right, and that was a problem. Up meant he was one step away from being inside her apartment. Once he was there, it was all over. He’d forget all the reasons why he shouldn’t strip her naked and make wild, passionate love to her. He’d have to survive a kiss. But not down here in the open.
“I’ll walk you to your door.”
* * *
DARLA WAS INCREDIBLY NERVOUS as she walked the narrow tenth-floor hallway with Blake on her heels. It wasn’t as if this was the first time she’d been with Blake, but this time felt different. This time not only had she decided to take a chance on Blake, she knew he had taken a chance on her, as well. She’d seen the look on his face when she’d asked who had burned him. And now she knew he was diving into territory he wasn’t comfortable in, but that he was doing it for her. She didn’t have to know the details. She just wanted to know him. She wanted to understand him. She wanted to wipe away the pain she’d seen in his eyes before he’d looked away.
Her stomach fluttered as she reached her loft’s tiny entryway. She reached for her purse, only to realize it was in the bag Blake was carrying. She turned. The space was small. He was big. He was good-looking. He was sexy. She was suddenly burning up, her cheeks flaming right along with the rest of her body.
“My keys are in my purse.” She motioned to the bag. “In there.”
He shifted the bag from his shoulder to hold it in front of him. She unzipped it and dug in her purse and somehow her shaking hand found her keys. She dropped them and immediately bent down to get them. So did Blake. Their hands touched and they both abandoned the keys.