Page 15 of Smoke Show

Shrugging, I grinned at her. "Small towns have to find their excitement somewhere."

Eve's sweet mouth opened and closed, drawing my attention to the full bottom lip I loved so much.

"Ask Gwen if you don't believe me. Scratch that – ask Jo. Her grandma is part of Silvia's cabal. I don't want to remind Gwen about the betting ring."

"Why not?" Eve asked, tone suspicious. "Is there serious money on you two?"

I examined her expression. Was that jealousy? Of Gwen and me? Puffing up, just a little, at the idea that she might really care, I shook my head.

"Not from anyone who's paying attention. But I've heard the bounty on her head grows every day."

"Bounty? On our Gwen?" Eve asked, still sounding mystified by our small-town entertainments.

"Um, hm."

Eve covered her face with her hands, peeking out between her fingers. "I'm afraid to ask."

"Tiger, you've been paying more attention than that," I chided gently.

"Zander?"

Nodding, I grinned. "Oh,yeah."

Eve dropped her hands, squinting at me. "Is there another pool on you?"

"Eh, probably. But I doubt there's much money in it at this point. I've rarely hit the minimum threshold with anyone local. My last relationship was with a woman who didn't live in Campfire."

Eve's shoulders slumped. "Oh. Wait. Is there a pool onme?" she asked, clutching a hand to her chest.

"Easy, Tiger. If there is, it'll be a compliment: they consider you a local. Besides, rumor is the pool only usually starts at three dates."

She arched a brow. "And you're willing to risk what could be considered date number two – with me?"

"We'll know the truth,” I assured. "Let them waste their money."

I regretted the words as soon as they popped out. I hadn't meant to imply that spending time with her was a waste. Just reassure her that I wasn't concerned about town gossip. Watching her expression crumple, it hit me that she probably found it more plausible that I had no intentions of anything romantic when it came to her. After all, I'd gone to pains to hide my feelings thus far.

Clearing my throat, I watched her steadily, searching for any hint of hurt. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

"Didn't you,Principal Gleason? After all, no one could consider us a match, right? Mr. Starched Shirts and tattoo Barbie."

She'd put me in my place, as surely as if she'd sent me to detention. Any chance of asking her on a date three had probably gone up in smoke, thanks to my big fucking mouth. As it was, date two was in serious jeopardy.

"Just come over for dinner, Eve. It doesn't have to mean anything you don't want it to, that's all I meant."

I could practically see the war going on inside illuminated by her flickering expression: from distrust, to curiosity, to acceptance. Slowly, she nodded.

"Okay, then. I appreciate the offer."

"Great," I said with a smile. "I can drop you off at home after dinner. Let me just lock up, and we can head out."

Satisfied that she'd agreed, albeit reluctantly, I whistled a cheery version of our fight song as I shut and locked the McDonald High doors behind me.

Maybe I hadn't pulled it off with anything approaching finesse, but Eve had agreed to dinner, and it was a start. For a man who'd sworn off close attachments and pledged to avoid Eve, I sure was full of shit. I couldn't even keep my promise to myself a single day without caving and inviting her over. Something about the mystery and challenge that Eve Pendleton presented was irresistible, and I was dancing perilously close to voiding my vow about keeping my distance.

All my self-assurances that I'd learned from my mistakes, learned to confine my thrill-seeking side to the summers, to my racing, faded under the weight of her dark brown eyes.

Curse me for a fool, but I wanted to get to know Eve Pendleton better. Even if it meant violating my rules about dating anyone from Campfire. Hanging out with Eve was worth a little crack in my defenses.

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