Page 39 of One Unexpected Gift

Skylar blinked a few times before smiling and standing. “Thank you.” She met him halfway across the bar and kissed him.

Nick reigned in his burning lust, following her lead on the kiss. They were in a bar. His bar. The cackle from Colby behind him was enough to keep his libido at bay.

She ended the kiss too soon for his liking and sat back down. “I had a... medical situation that prevented me from drinking. I guess I can have one drink.”

“Guess?” He shook his head clinking two glasses between the fingers of his free hand. “Not good enough. No alcohol for you until your doctor approves.”

He wanted to ask her what had happened, but respected her privacy, and because he didn’t want to be a hypocrite. No one knew about his condition, and he’d like to keep it that way.

She followed him to lane fourteen, the furthest away from the commotion. It wasn’t private but they were out of sight from the bar area, and there weren’t any bowlers on the lane next to them. They changed into the ugly bowling shoes, and he entered their names into the system.

“Sexy Skylar?” She crossed her arms under her chest, her beautiful, amazing chest that he’d been itching to get his hands on for far too long.

“It’s your name with an added adjective.”

“Why doesn’t your name have an adjective before it?”

“Oh, mine would but this is a family-friendly establishment.” He brushed a kiss across her lips and went off in search for his preferred bowling ball.

Twenty minutes later, she threw a strike on her last bowl winning by five points. Skylar planted her fists on her hips and cocked her head. “How do you feel about getting beat by a girl?”

“Darlin’,” he rarely used his exaggerated Texas drawl. Only for Skylar. “I’ve been having all sorts of fantasies about you, and while being beaten by you wasn’t one of them, it sure the hell is now.”

Her mouth widened in a shocked O, and he swooped in, wrapping his arms around her waist, and tugging her in for a kiss. This time it wasn’t sweet, tame, or quick. He stroked her tongue with his and pressed his body into hers. She didn’t resist and leaned into him even more.

When her hands went from his shoulders to his hair, he relaxed and took the kiss even deeper. Her fingers massaged his scalp. If they weren’t in the middle of his bowling alley he’d have her flat on her back and her shirt over her head.

“Attention guests. We will be closing in fifteen minutes,” Colby said over the intercom, killing the mood. “Please finish this round and bring your shoes to the return slot up front. We hope you had a wonderful evening at The Zone.”

Keeping his hands on her hips, Nick released her lips and rested his forehead against hers.

“I had a wonderful evening at The Zone,” Skylar murmured in his mouth.

“Yeah?” He grinned, dropping a quick kiss to her nose.

“Yeah.”

With great reluctance, he dropped his hands and moved to the bench to take off the godawful shoes. Skylar sat next to him and did the same. Even though he so desperately wanted to invite her back to his place, he needed to let her set the pace. He’d made it pretty damn clear how much he wanted her. Hopefully she remembered his invite from the other night and would cash in on it soon.

Like real soon or he’d need to start taking cold showers twice a day.

When they dropped off their shoes, Skylar took her keys out of her purse and squeezed his hand. “Thank you for taking some time off. I had fun. I’ll let you get back to work. I’m sure there’s a lot of stuff you have to do to close up a place this big.”

Nick wrapped a thick strand of her red hair around his finger and tugged her close. “I clocked out already. The boss let me off for the night.”

He watched as her eyes darted toward the bar where Colby was cleaning up and then dipped to the space between them.

“I’m not much of a night owl.”

Which he interpreted as Hasta la vista, baby.

“You’re more like Cinderella.”

“Hardly. Charlie doesn’t let me do much around the house. I try to—”

He tugged her closer until the front of their bodies touched, the hell with the nosy eyes of his staff. “The clock strikes twelve and you flee. Only your clock is ten.”

“I’m not fleeing from you.”

---