Page 27 of Tackle

Instead of answering, she looked him right in the eyes. “Can I ask you something and you’ll be completely honest with me?”

“I’ll always tell you the truth.”

“Remember you said that. Now, tell me, how badly do you want to get out of here?”

His lips twitched. “That was evil.”

She smirked at him. “I know.”

“Fine.” He huffed. “On a scale from one to ten?”

She shrugged. “Sure.”

“About one hundred.”

She laughed, pulled the cloth napkin from her lap, and tossed it on the table. “Then let’s go.”

He looked torn. “You sure?”

“I’ve never been surer.”

She’d never seen the man move so fast. Standing, he pulled out his wallet and slapped two hundred dollars down on the table.

Seeing that, she stepped in close and whispered, “You’re a good guy, Oz Olson.”

His cheeks instantly pinkened. “Yeah, well, I reserved the table. It’s only right.”

“Still, not many people think that way.”

He grabbed a hold of her hip and pulled her closer, his eyes blazing down on her. “I’m not like many people.”

There went that tingle down her spine again. She licked her lips. “Oh.”My.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.”

As when they entered, eyes followed them as they walked through the restaurant. Emerson knew that was all because of Oz, and she couldn’t help but feel a little proud being on his arm. Especially when she noticed the envious glances from the other patrons. She squeezed against him a bit closer and was rewarded when the hand at the small of her back moved to wrap more fully around her waist.

“Where to?” he asked once they stepped outside.

Emerson looked down the street then up at the sky. “It’s a nice night. How about we walk until we hit a hot dog cart or something?”

He raised a brow, concern contorting his features. “You sure you’re up for a walk in those shoes? While I’ll admit, they’re sexy as hell, they look damn uncomfortable.”

That’s it, she was never taking her Oz-thinks-they’re-sexy-as-hell shoes off. “They’re more comfortable than they look.”

“In that case,” Oz pulled her toward the car, “I think I have a better idea.”

“Oh, yeah? What?” He opened her door and helped her climb in.

He waited until he was in the SUV and buckled to answer. “You said you played softball all through high school, right?”

“Yeah.” She wondered where that was leading.

“We’re going to Hooligan’s.”

“The batting cages?”

“And the best chili dogs this side of Portland.”

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