Page 11 of Going All In

She taps her chin with her fingers, a smile tugging at her lips, like there’s a joke that only she’s in on. “Zookeeper.”

Huh? Where did that come from? “Um, no. And what in the world would make you think of that?” I feel like I should be offended.

“Your smell.”

Yeah, I should be offended. “I don’t smell like a—” I break off at the teasing grin that spreads over her face. “Well, joke’s on you. That was your second guess. No extra guesses for being mean.”

“Aw, did I hurt your feelings?” She takes another sip of her crimson wine.

“Not enough that I won’t cash in my winnings. One guess left, Holly. Go ahead and put me in your calendar for dinner tomorrow.” I can taste my victory.

“Hmm.” She runs her fingers over those lips that I’m dying to kiss again. “Let’s see. You’re a… poker player.”

My mouth falls open. How in the hell did she guess that?

She takes another sip of wine, looking supremely satisfied with herself, then sets it down and spears a bite of her veal with her fork.

Meanwhile, I’m still just sitting there, unable to form a coherent thought. “Uh… yeah, actually. What the hell made you guess that?”

She slips the veal between her lips and chews, smirking. When she swallows, she picks up her wine glass before she looks me dead in the eyes and says, “Google,Maddox Anderson.You showed me your driver’s license before I would agree to go home with you. Remember? I texted the picture to JJ and it’s still on my phone. So, thanks for dinner.”

“Whoa, whoa. It doesn’t count if you already knew the answer. That’s not fair.” I feel myself rapidly losing control over this conversation. Hell, I’ve already lost control of this entire situation.

“Says who?” she challenges.

“Says… anyone. That’s cheating,” I stammer. I’m always the one in control. Always. And the way she’s so easily wrested it from me in this conversation has thrown me for a loop.

She points at me with her fork. “You should know better than anyone that it’s perfectly fair to make a bet when you know exactly what the odds are. Now, where’s the waitress? If you’re paying, I’m getting dessert.”

* * *

Holly leans back in her seat and pats her belly. “Oh my God. That was amazing.”

I nod, finishing my last bite of tiramisu. “So good.”

The waitress places a black folder on the table with my credit card and the check. I open it, write in a tip and the total, then sign it and close the folder. I tuck the card back in my wallet before slipping it back in my pocket.

Holly wipes those luscious lips on a cloth napkin. “Thanks for dinner, Maddox.”

I nod as I place my own napkin on the table. “You ready to go?”

She pushes her chair back from the table and slides her coat on. We walk together to the exit. I know we’re here as friends. I know she doesn’t see us dating. But fuck, this was the best date I’ve been on in years, even though it wasn’t really a date. If she were someone else, I’d be figuring out how to get her back to my place.

As it is, all I have is another date with my right hand this evening.

At the front of the restaurant, we wait together for her ride share. This is a safe area of town, but I know she has an obsession with serial killers and crime. That first night we talked about her love for true crime podcasts and how it results in her being ready to be a victim at any moment, so I figured she’d appreciate someone waiting with her.

It obviously has nothing to do with me wanting to spend every second I can with her.

Holly looks at her phone. “They’re almost here. Thank you for dinner, Maddox. It was fun.”

Funis not the descriptor I’d use. Yeah, it was fun. It was also amazing, frustrating, captivating…

I force my brain to focus on thefriendstanding in front of me and try not to scare her off again. “I had a great time, Holly. I always seem to have a great time with you. Thank you for having dinner with me. Can I give you a hug?”

I hold out my arms, and she steps into my embrace just as a black SUV with an Uber sticker in the window pulls up. I brush my lips against Holly’s cheek, lingering there to breathe in her scent. She smells warm, like cranberries and vanilla. It’s like Christmas morning. When I finally pull back, her pupils are dilated, and her breaths are shallow. She blinks and shakes her head, then sticks her hand out for a handshake.

I smirk as I grip her palm. I’ll give her a handshake. Because she can’t hide her reaction to me kissing her, even on the cheek. And that means one thing.

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