Be Mine Read online

  “We should talk about it.”

  “Why? Don’t you think women can answer sports questions?”

  His mouth brushed her ear as his arm pressed against her back. “I just like having an excuse to whisper in your ear.”

  “Yogi Berra,” she told the trivia host in a surprisingly normal voice, considering how on the inside she was a shivery, breathless mess.

  A couple of drinks and a few rounds later, Jake and Darcy were declared the winners. The grand prize was nothing more than bragging rights and the his-and-hers puckered looks Kent and Vanessa sported as they went out the door.

  “How are you getting home?” Jake asked as he held Darcy’s sweater so she could slip her arms in. Such a gentleman.

  It was an innocent enough question, but Darcy’s overheated, alcohol-fueled imagination added a pronounced ungentlemanly slant to his words. “I’m walking.”

  “Alone?”

  “It’s not far.”

  “You’ve had a bit to drink.” A bit more than she usually did, actually. “I’d feel a lot better if you let me walk you home.”

  He didn’t know it yet but, unless she’d totally misread his signals, he’d feel a lot better because if he got as far as her front door, she was going to drag him inside and have her way with him. She wasn’t in the habit of bringing men home after the first date—and random trivia partnership was stretching the definition of date—but she was going to roll the dice on this sexy, smart guy with a sense of humor. They were rare. Plus, she just really, really wanted him.

  * * *

  JAKE HELD THE DOOR FOR Darcy, cursing himself the entire time. Now wasn’t the time to be romancing a woman, even if she was smoking hot and correctly guessed that painite was considered the rarest mineral gem.

  But he couldn’t let her walk home alone in the dark. And after watching that mouth smile at him all night and her teeth catching on her bottom lip when she wasn’t sure of an answer and her tongue flicking out to grab a stray dab of nacho cheese, he wanted a good-night kiss. Maybe it wasn’t the most traditional first date, but it counted. Sort of.

  Translating a woman’s body language didn’t come as naturally to him as it did to other guys, but he was pretty sure he was reading Darcy right. She walked really slow, as if she was lingering to make the walk last longer, and she stayed close enough to him so their arms occasionally brushed. After the third time, he threw caution to the wind and captured her hand in his. She didn’t pull away.

  “Do you do that every Tuesday night?” he asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

  “As often as I can. My usual partner couldn’t make it, so I was lucky you showed up tonight.” Her usual partner? He didn’t like the idea of her sharing random facts and sexy smiles with anybody else. “Her youngest was sick and her husband does diapers and homework help, but no puke buckets.”

  So not a boyfriend, then. “I’m sorry your friend’s kid is sick, but I’m glad I got to be your partner tonight.”

  On the well-lit street, he had no trouble seeing the blush on her cheeks. “And I talk to you about puke buckets. That’s so sexy.”

  “Puke buckets might not be sexy, but a woman as pretty as you who knows the Treaty of Paris ended the Seven Years’ War is hot as hell.”

  The blush got brighter and he squeezed her hand. It wasn’t a line, either. Brains and beauty were like peanut butter and chocolate—each good on its own, but downright delicious together.

  Leave it to him to find a potentially right woman at the totally wrong time. And in the wrong place. The city was a quick stopover between the life in Connecticut he’d grown bored with and the exciting, new restaurant venture with an old friend. When he’d seen a flyer at the auto shop for trivia night, he’d decided to scope out how it was run and the turnout in case it was something he might want to try in the future. He hadn’t expected to meet a woman he’d be reluctant to walk away from.

  “This might sound pushy, but I’m only passing through here and I’m leaving tomorrow for business and I really want to ask for your number, so...what’s your romantic situation?”

  “No boyfriend. No husband, though there was one once. No kids and we went our separate ways years ago. How long will you be gone?”

  “It’ll be an extended trip, but I’ll be traveling back and forth a lot and I’d like to maybe see you when I’m in the city. You know, if you want.” Which was probably a dumb thing to say considering she was holding his hand.

  “I’d like that.” Her voice was soft and warm and his mind jumped ahead to the possibility of a good-night kiss. “This is my building.”

  He was so busy imagining how her mouth would feel, he barely registered that they’d stopped walking. Would her lips taste like margaritas? He started to reach for his phone, intending to program her number into it.

  “If you come up, I’ll write my number down for you.”

  Some of the blood left his brain and headed south, but he was no fool. He left the phone in its holster. “Sounds great.”

  Darcy unlocked the glass door tucked between two business entrances and led him up the stairs to a very small hallway somebody had tried to make nice with a few potted plants and a bright throw rug. There was a door on either side of the hall and she unlocked the one on the left, reaching in to turn on the light.

  Her apartment was small and pretty, just like her. The walls were a plain beige, but she’d hung colorful pictures on them and she had a bunch of those little pillows on the couch that matched the curtains and throw rugs that matched the one in the hall. He wasn’t surprised to see several bookshelves taking up space.

  He watched her tear a sheet of paper off a memo pad stuck to the fridge and then rummage in a drawer for a pen. After jotting something down, she held it out to him. Darcy, from trivia night. And her number.

  It made him chuckle. “How many Darcys do you think I know?”

  “I thought it might help you remember me when you fish that out of your pocket later.”

  In the light of the bar, he’d thought her eyes were a hazel color, but now—standing close enough to her to touch—he realized they were more green, with flecks of brown and gold. “I’m not going to forget you that easily.”

  When she blushed again and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and then back again, he realized she either wanted him to make a graceful exit with a promise to call her later or make his move. The problem was deciphering which she was looking for.

  Then she stood on her tiptoes and leaned forward, so he took the hint and moved in for the kiss.

  * * *

  DARCY HAD NEVER BEEN SO thoroughly kissed in her life. When Jake first touched his mouth to hers, he’d been tentative, maybe even a little shy. Now she was backed up to her fridge, her nails digging into his shirt as his tongue danced over hers.

  His hands slid from her waist up to her breasts and she moaned when his thumbs brushed over the taut nipples. Just the lightest touch, but it ignited a need in her stronger than any she’d felt in a long time. And then his lips left her mouth and blazed a trail down her neck.

  “All I thought about tonight was kissing you,” he said, his breath warm against her skin.

  “And yet you still almost always knew the right answer.”

  “Well, I tried to pay attention when it was our turn, but when it wasn’t, all I could do was think about touching you.”

  Darcy took a deep breath and said the words. “I’d like for you to stay. You know, if you want to.”

  He straightened and looked down into her face. “You’re sure?”

  “Very sure.”

  “Then I want to.” He kissed her and, when she curled her arms around his neck, he lifted her off the floor.

  It startled her and she wrapped her legs around his waist, really hoping he wouldn’t drop her. But she wouldn’t have fallen, anyway, with her back against the fridge and Jake between her thighs, his denim-clad erection putting a little pressure in just the right spot.

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