Page 121 of Tease Me

“You surprise me, Memphis Jane.”

“Oh, why?”

“I dunno. I just thought you’d cringe at a meal like this.”

So, it had been a test.I did a silent jig that I’d passed with flying colors. “I love food.”

“I can see that.” He glanced down at my empty plate.

“Best hotdog I’ve had in years.” It was the truth, too.

“You’re a fascinating woman.”

Was that good or bad?

By the twinkle in his eyes, I decided it was good and wondered what other tests he had planned for me.

We remained seated for a while, making idle chit-chat about the passing crowd. Every once in a while,heglanced athiswatch, and I had a sneaky feelinghewas waiting for something, though I resisted asking what.

The crowds grew thicker and noisier as the evening rolled on, and it was ten-thirty before Corben finally stood and tossed our rubbish into a nearby bin. “Come on then. It’s time to work off some of those calories.”

Oh God, I didn’t like the sound of that. Unless, of course, it involved wild, crazy sex—then count me in.

Ten minutes later, I acknowledged that, no, it didn’t involve wild, crazy sex as he led me up a long set of stairs to the entrance of Incognito dance club. Here we go—test number two.

Corben and the bouncer did what looked like a well-practiced secret handshake, and wewere admittedwithout paying the ten-dollar cover charge.

The music was loud, and the heavy beat vibrated through my chest. Corben led me to a small round table in front of the bar, and he slipped the reserved sign into his pocket as we sat down on the stools.

The loud music required him to lean into my ear to speak. “What do you drink?”

I shrugged. “Wine.”

He pulled back and frowned. “White or red?”

“White, please, Sauv Blanc.”

“Okay, back in a sec.”

Corben must have an express lane through thethrongat the bar because he returned in record time holding a large wine glass with a tiny slosh of wine in the bottom. He had a crystal tumbler with an amber liquid over a couple of ice cubes. Handing me my glass, we chinked ours together, and then I took a sip. It wasn’t Shaw & Smith, but it was acceptable.

Talking was impossible, so as I drank my wine, I alternated my gaze between my hunky date and the dance floor. Corben was a man who commanded attention, and by the constant glances I observed from passing women, he sure did get it.

My first wine went down veryeasily, and Corben bought me another. I made a mental note to buy the next round.

It was my kind of music. Nottoo heavy or techno, and it was easy to move to the beat. WhichI did in my seat.Would Corben ask me to dance?

With my second drink gone, I reached for my bag and leaned over to him. “What are you drinking?

“I’ll get it.”

“No, you won’t.” I was more forceful thanI’dintended, but I wanted him to know I meant it.

“Okay.” He shrugged. “Canadian Club on ice.”

I wiggled to the bar and ordered two Canadian Clubs on ice. Corben smiled at me on my return, and once again, we chinked glasses, and I sipped mine. It was sweet and spicy andreallyyummy.

One of my favorite songs came on, ‘Cake by the Ocean.’I pulled my tote onto my shoulder, jumped off my stool, grabbed Corben’s hand, and dragged him to the dance floor.

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