Dirty Working Hero (Hard Working Hero 2)

I'm not ready to give up just like that. I came here for a reason, and I'm not going to let him just slam the door in my face. What he calls fun, I call feelings. I feel him all over. On my skin, in my veins, through every nerve and pore, I'm his. My body belongs to him and him alone.

Pursing my lips, the pool table catches my eye, giving me an idea. “All right, fine. You say this can't go anywhere, and I think you're full of shit. I don't think you believe that for one second, so I'll play you for it.”

“Play me for it?”

“Yeah, let's play for it.” I point at the table. “Let's make a bet.”

The look in his eyes changes. I know he can't turn down a bet, and this is a bet I'm willing to make.

“What are we playing for?” he asks.

“Come on.” Nodding my head toward the table, I stand up and walk to it. I grab the triangle and start to rack the balls. Hardin watches me for a second, then orders two beers and brings them over.

I grab him a cue and exchange it with him for the beer. “All right, I'll keep this nice and simple.”

“Simple. From what I know about you, nothing is simple.” He winks at me and chuckles as he takes a small sip of beer.

“You're funny.” Both my brows lift high as I laugh sarcastically.

“I'm kidding. Seriously now, what's the bet?”

“Well, if I win, you need to tell me how you really feel. I want the honest truth, not some half ass explanation that's what you think I want to hear or what you think I should hear. I don't want you to answer as if my father is feeding you the words.”

“And if I win?”

“If you win, I'll leave you alone. I'll walk out that door and you'll never see me again. I'll give you exactly what you're saying we are. Nothing.”

“Who said we're nothing?”

“You might as well have.”

Hardin leans over the table and strikes the cue ball. The balls explode around the table, and a couple fall into the pockets. His back straightens, and he smiles at me as he rounds the table to take his next shot.

“But that's not what I did say, is it?”

“Not in those exact words.”

His fingers smooth their way down the cue as he lines up his shot. Thrusting his arm forward, he slams the ball into the pocket. “How about you don't put words in my mouth then? I don't want you mistaking what I say for something else. I never said I wanted nothing.”

“But you never said you wanted something either.”

Hardin attempts to bank a shot, but misses.

“My turn,” I say. “Hope you’re ready to get your ass handed to you.”

“We both know who the better player is here. But in case you forgot. . .” Hardin points his finger at himself. “I'm right here.”

“Keep talking smack, and we'll see what happens.” A big smile fills my face as I look down the cue. The shot is easy, and I make it without a problem. “One down,” I say.

Moving to the corner of the table where he's standing, I lean forward to make my shot, but he bumps the edge of my cue. “Whoops,” he says.

Flicking my eyes up at him, I veer my stare. “Afraid to lose are you?”

“Not at all.”

“You must be afraid of something. Maybe you're just afraid of me?”

“Afraid of you? I don't think so.”

Smacking the cue ball, I send another ball into the pocket. “I think you are. I think you don't know how to handle me, and that scares the hell out of you.”

“I'm pretty sure I can handle you just fine.”

Shrugging my shoulder, I work the table, making my next few shots easily. “Only three balls left. Scared now?”

“Nope.” His voice is callous and unfazed. “You need to make the shots first.”

“Speaking of firsts, I made the first move originally, if I remember that right.” I miss my shot, stomping my foot with annoyance. “Damn it. I was on a roll, too.”

“Is that how you want to play this thing?” he asks. “Because I'm pretty sure I was the one who asked you out on a date, not the other way around.”

Hardin walks around the table and stops behind me. I can feel him there, so close and still so far away. He lowers his mouth to my ear, exhaling a soft breath that cascades over my cheek and down my neck. Goosebumps ripple down my skin and my stomach clenches tight as I wait for his lips to touch me.

And then he's gone. The air around me goes cold as the warmth of his body shifts away. He bites his bottom lip and smiles, his eyes catching the light over the table and making them sparkle like the ocean on a sunny morning.