Fat Cat Liar

“I don’t want to be complicated.”

“You’re the farthest thing from complicated there is, but I’m asking you to be patient with me. Since I’ve never done the dating thing, I may need some prodding.”

“Now, I feel like a jerk.”

“Don’t.” I pull her closer, brushing my lips against hers. “You want to know something, ask.”

She nods and resumes scraping lightly on my cheeks.

“Here’s another tidbit of information. I’m in no rush to introduce you to my brother. He’s a lady’s man, and he’ll have no problem trying to snatch you from right under my nose. I’m not an idiot and know a good thing when I find it.”

She giggles, the sound breaking any tension from earlier.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m smart.”

“If you had a rough day, we don’t have to go out.”

“I’m tempted to keep you here like this, especially looking like you do. But I thought you wanted to meet your friends for drinks.”

“What’s wrong with the way I look?”

I make a point to sweep my eyes slowly over her face, neck, shoulders, and chest, stopping when I hit her low-cut neckline. “Your tits are about to burst out of your top.”

“They are not!” She swats me playfully.

I cock an eyebrow at her. “Pretty sure every man that sees you tonight is going to think the same thing. Do me a favor and don’t make any sudden movements.”

“Now, you’re being silly. This top doesn’t show that much cleavage.”

To make a point, I lean in and skim my lips along the edge on the fabric, stopping at the lowest point and darting my tongue out to touch her skin. She inhales sharply.

“Now, do you see my point? The only consolation I’ll have tonight is knowing my mouth tasted this skin that every man in the bar will be staring at.”

“Let’s skip it. It’s just a football game. It’s not that important.” Her voice sounds almost breathless, her nipples now hard and poking through the thin sweater.

A battle brews inside, my hunger for her growing with each second. But I know what will happen if we stay here. We’ll cross a line I’m not ready to cross. Until I can figure out exactly what’s happening in my head, I can’t do that to Greer. So, I force myself to withdraw.

“Not important? The Giants are playing the Cowboys. It’s more than just a football game. It’s a rivalry. No true Giants fan is missing this game.”

She rolls her eyes and huffs. “That sounds eerily similar to something my dad would say.”

“He sounds like a smart man.”

She laughs again, this time her body vibrating against mine.

“What’s so funny?”

“Calling my dad smart is the understatement of a lifetime. When you meet him, you’ll understand. But I’m laughing because my mom used to say only three things in this world could drive my dad to insanity. Her, me, and his beloved Giants. That’s why I only attend one game a year with him. He’s been known to scare grown men when the team underperforms.”

My stomach lurches at the mention of meeting her dad, but I try to play it off by chuckling along with her.

“We’ll get along great.”

“Well, come on then.” She crawls off my lap and stands, offering me her hand. “Let’s get you in a seat with a cold beer before kick-off.”

I take her hand and think for the second time today that Greer Palmer is definitely the kind of woman that makes me want to be a better man.