Page 24 of Silver-Tongued Devil
“Oh. Salad.” She put a hand up to smooth her hair, then realized she was doing it and dropped it.
“I made it.” Evan wasn’t looking at her, though. He was looking at Blake, the tension stretching between the two of them like a rubber band. Evan didn’t say anything else, just stood back and waited, and Dakota headed for the door. But before she got there, Blake touched her shoulder, and she turned.
“By the end of dinner,” he told her, “I want that number. Be ready to give it to me.”
Not the life plan,Blake reminded himself as he followed that orange almost-mini out the door. He tried to ignore the way the knit skirt showed off her absolutely gorgeous… curves. You weren’t supposed to eat at a guy’s table and think about his daughter’s ass, and you sure weren’t supposed to think about how much you wanted to take her skirt off and how you’d do it. When she was lying across your bed with her hair spread around her and breathing hard, because you’d been chasing her through the house in the best game of non-football a man could play.
But, see, this was why he needed a refined woman to rein him in. This was the exactreasonfor the new plan. He needed a woman to get him to where a thirty-five-year-old man ought to be once he didn’t have the excuse of being a professional athlete anymore.
No more wild side. Marriage plan. Family time. Making a thought-out, rational choice.It had been so hard to remember, though, when he’d been looking at that silky skin above Dakota’s neckline, at the hollow above her collarbones, and imagining how she’d shiver when he kissed her there. The same way she’d shivered when he’d held her hand. A woman who was responsive enough to shudder like that just from your thumb caressing her fingers, passionate enough to feel the colors in her owl piece all the way to her soul, and sensual enough to come up with those flowers? That spelled “wild side” all the way, and the push and pull he felt from her, the resistance and the response—that spelled “wild ride,” too. She’d play that game of chase. He knew it. And he had a big house.
He shoved the thoughts aside as he sat down at the picnic table. First off, it was rude, and second, Evan was looking at him as if he knew what he was thinking and didn’t like it one bit. Business partner? Maybe, and maybe he had ideas of his own, because that look was “hands off” all the way. And if that made Blake’s own hand want to fist—well, that was just another example of the exact wrong kind of response.
“Dakota show you the owl?” Russell asked.
“Yeah,” Blake said with relief. “You were right. That’s a beautiful thing.”
Russell grunted and said, “This salmon’s not looking bad, either.”
It was true. The fish was so buttery and tender it was almost sinful, the pink flesh flaking under his fork and melting on Blake’s tongue. The four of them sat under a sky slowly fading to dusk and ate in silence for a few minutes. Either the silence was normal for them, or they were constrained by Blake’s presence. “Cedar planks worked,” Blake finally said. “This came out perfect. Looks like you know how to man a grill.”
Dakota had been digging in herself, he’d noticed. She looked up as if she’d felt his eyes on her and said, “Dad’s a great cook.”
“Got to do something around here,” Russell said. “You were hungry, miss. You forget to eat lunch again?”
She smiled a little. “Maybe. I guess that’s why I need you. I got wrapped up.”
Russell shifted in his seat, a spasm crossing his face, and Dakota sat up straighter and asked, “Are you all right?”
“Of course I’m all right.”
“You sat too long today, I’ll bet,” she said. “You were gone forever. Did you take an Advil out there, at least?”
“Don’t coddle me.” It was a growl, and she snapped her mouth shut.
Evan hadn’t said anything, although Blake suspected that wasn’t unusual. He spoke up now, though. “I’m surprised you’d go out fishing with him.” He didn’t look at Blake when he said it. “Want to explain that?”
“Why should I explain it?” Russell said. “I don’t answer to you, or to Dakota, either.”
Dakota had put her fork down. She said slowly, “I’d like to know too, though, Dad. And maybe it’s better if you tell us while he’s here. Maybe it’s better if he knows. I’m not saying you’re a terrible person,” she said to Blake. “Personally.”
Evan muttered something that sounded like, “You think?”
Dakota ignored him. “But you did a terrible thing,” she said, “even if you didn’t make every decision yourself. It’s your company. You’re responsible for Russell being hurt, and you ought to know that.”
“The man’s a guest in my home,” Russell said. “Both of you need to shut up.”
“It’s my home, too,” Dakota said.
“No,” Russell said. “It’s mine. My house. My rules.”
Dakota flinched, and Evan said, “Russ.”
Russell started to stand up, then had to grab the table. Dakota was up, too, uttering an exclamation, but Russell stared her down. “My back might be broke,” he said. “The rest of me isn’t. I’m still a man, and this is still my house. And if somebody wants to hire me as a fishing guide, I’ll be a fishing guide. Just because I’m not able to paint anymore, that doesn’t mean I can’t still work. The check might say ‘disability.’ It doesn’t say ‘useless.’”
“Dad. I never said you were useless. And, wait.Hire?”
“I’m nobody’s passenger.” He was still hanging onto the table for support, and Bella was on her feet, too, pressed against his side as if to hold him up. “I’m not your responsibility. Now or ever.”
