Chapter 23

Richie stopped at the door, patting his pockets for keys. "Wait right here," he said and ran off before she could reply. He ducked his head in on the workers. When they told him it would be at least a few hours before he could see any sort of results, he took the stairs two at a time. Exchanging socks and sneakers for his beach shoes he headed back down to her. "Okey doke, let's go."

She glanced down at her clothing and shrugged. He didn't seem to care how she was dressed, and he surely hadn't changed so he probably just wanted to wander the beach. She hoped that was all he wanted to do at least. She nodded then slipped through the front door before glancing back at him and noting the smirk that seemed ever present in his eyes. What the hell was he up to? What exactly encompassed playing hooky? She didn't play hooky, hadn’t in years. "So where too?"

"You'll see," he walked her around his truck and opened the door. When she just stared at him blankly he only grinned wider. "Don't give me that look. Just get in the truck. Hooky means fun. I'm fairly sure it's even in the dictionary."

She shook her head and easily stepped up into the SUV, then watched as he rounded the vehicle. As he opened the driver's door she snorted, "Depends on what a person calls fun I'd suppose." Slipping the seat belt around her she leaned back, "Some consider working and getting things done fun." Besides it’s a lot safer than just hanging out with you, that’s just dangerous.

He leaned in. "There's a time for work." He glanced down at that pretty little bow of a top lip and then back up into her eyes. "And there's a time for play. Work can be satisfying, darlin'," the citrus scent of her filled the truck. He sat back into his bucket seat. "But fun can be satisfying too." He put the SUV into gear, flashing her a wide toothy grin.

She twisted slightly, her gaze centered on his face and felt the first slender tendril of dread. That damned toothy grin didn't bode well for her state of mind. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath and tried to remember her mantra, anything to keep him where he couldn't make her forget herself. "I'll take your word for it Richie."

His gut tumbled and burned when she said his name. It was a rarity still. She loved to toss around that Mister a little too liberally. "Don't you know that fun is what makes the world go round? Money's great." he waggled his brows. "Beyond great actually." He rested his hand on her seat as he backed out.

Her hair was still mostly free, brushing against the side of his hand before he was able to get his hand back on his shifter.A whole different shifter wants attention, man. "But it's the stuff that you take time to enjoy that makes the world a little better."

He took a left and headed into town. "My kid's smile in the sunshine. Even my kid making a goal and spinning around to make sure I saw it. That's fun." As her face lost a little of its frost he went on. "A long leisurely bath with water as hot as you can stand and a beautiful woman twined around you," he watched her lips flatten into a thin line. She definitely needs a long bath and extra incense to relax. "Making love until you can't move, cooking with your partner..." he took a right hand turn. "And bowling."

It had all sounded perfect, and for the briefest of moments she allowed herself the feeling of the fantasy, until his final words stopped her cold. "Bowling?"

He jerked the hand brake up. "Bowling," he agreed and hopped out of the truck.

He bowled, why did that surprise her? He seemed to be a fount of talents unrelated to music. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She hadn't bowled in years, not since....Pushing the stray thoughts away she unclipped the seat belt and twisted to hop down from the SUV, only to find him standing there waiting to assist. Hopping from the car she straightened and put a smile on her face. She could do this, she used to be pretty decent at the game, and he was a rock star, seriously, how much could he know about bowling?

"Ok then, Bowling. If you think you can handle it."

She brushed by him and he simply laughed. "Now that's what I'm talkin' about." He linked their fingers unconsciously and dragged her behind him. "Jonny and I used to hang out here when he was hiding out from family, which was often at the end of his marriage." He shrugged. "We used to end the nights here when we were still too wired to go home. Midnight bowl was the place to be. Of course we were in our twenties then." he laughed.

She couldn't stop the grin that slipped onto her lips, wasn't even aware it was there as she turned to stare his way. "So you fancy yourself to be a good bowler based on the antics twenty years ago? This will be easy, like taking candy from a baby.

"Sure," he said easily. She didn't need to know that he and Jon still bowled when they were bored. Two weeks ago, to be exact. "Some things are like riding a bike."

He stopped at the desk and reserved a lane, set them up with shoes and sent her to look for a lane ball that would do the trick. She calmly and efficiently went through the rack until she chose two different balls. He was pretty sure he'd have to untuck his shirt after she started crawling down on the floor for the last pick of bowling balls. Sweet Mary she had the most amazing ass.

She stood, waiting patiently as he waved her over. His ball was in a locker he kept at the lanes.

She took one ball in hand and tested it, making a practice like swing before settling it on the return tray, then picked up the second one, testing its weight as well. Deciding on the second ball she twisted to look at him, her brow lifting as he pulled his shirt tail from his jeans. "So you go first or me?"

"Ladies of course," he said and sprawled into a seat.

She stepped to the line, her entire being centering on the perfect spot to send the ball then took a step back. With a forward step the ball released, her brow arching as she turned around before it even hit.

As she started back to the chairs she nearly took a turn to the left to head for the front doors. No man should look that good holding a wild orange ball with purple flames. Dear god it was the ugliest ball she'd ever seen, and when his insanely long fingers caressed it like a pet, she almost thought of not just walking out the door but running as she pictured those fingers doing the same to her body. "Uhhh your turn."

"Shark," he muttered as her ball popped from the return guard. She didn't need a second try since she'd gotten a strike. He'd have to play like he was playing Jon, not his daughter. No mercy.

He spun it hard and it split. He swallowed a curse and only raised an eyebrow when her lips went smug without even moving a muscle

The next four frames were much the same. They were running neck and neck on strikes with a few flubs on each of their parts.

As they hit the fifth frame, he groaned when they tied up the strikes. He should probably let her win, but the calculating gleam in her eyes just wouldn’t let him forfeit the game.

As his ball hit true and he whirled she saw the gleam in his eyes and it only served to fuel the competition; that was until she stepped forward for her turn and he brushed against her. She shook her head, her eyes following him as he sprawled out on a chair, his legs, those long legs spread and relaxed. Taking a breath she turned and went for the next strike. She didn't care if she won, she'd be happy with tying, but when that grin came again she pushed a bit harder. Forget contracts, she wouldn't lose to a guy, not even him.

As they tied it up, he growled under his breath. Normally he was a 240 game easy, but her distracting legs and far too fine ass had him hovering around 210. As he closed in on the 10th frame his knees bounced as she hit her third strike in a row. "Dammit," he muttered and stood. He'd need a perfect final frame to beat her. By one measly point no less, but he'd beat her.

A competitive streak seemed to arc between them, something he hadn't felt from her before. She'd always been almost demure and even deferential to him, but put a game in and she was a shark.

He shouldn't be turned on, but he was. With two down he took a deep breath, letting it go. The ball had too much spin, but the head pin blasted into the back wall and slid into the nine and ten to give him his strike. "Yeaah!" He turned around and picked her up, swinging her around. "That's right baby. 1 pin." Without thinking he dropped a kiss on her wide open lips. "That's right, who's your daddy?"

Her breath caught, the urge to almost squeal rising, and when his lips touched down her hands slid to tangle in his hair. The comment stalled it all. He wasn't her daddy, God she felt nothing paternal about him. She shivered, her hands moving to his chest as she pushed away. She swallowed hard and pushed down the torrent of emotion his exuberance demanded. "One pin, you got lucky."

Her head tilted, a slow smile starting to simmer. "Besides, I let ya win." She winked and turned, she needed something cold to drink and fast, before she let the teasing get too far. "Coke or ?"

He dragged her back. Yeah, Coke sure as fuck wasn't going to do it. "I'll go for the or," he said and went in for his spoils. When her fingers fisted into his shirt, her palm like fire over his nipple; he groaned into her mouth. Her dark and sweet taste was almost as addicting as the alcohol he craved. If he wasn't careful, it surely would be. The sounds of the bowling alley slid away as his fingers tangled into the belt loop of her shorts. He shouldn't be touching her, shouldn't even be [i]thinking[/i] about touching her, but God. When her tongue challenged him much the same way as her competitive nature cropping up had, he forgot about bowling and concentrated on keeping her off center. When her arm hooked around his neck he eased the kiss into something sweeter.

She felt the breath leave her body as time and place stood still. She'd fought it with all she had, she'd tried, and each and every time he'd pulled her right back in. You need to fight this Alex, don't give in, don't, you'll regret this Alex.And when the kiss turned sweet, she turned off the inner voice and simply allowed herself the enjoyment of the kiss.It was a hooky day after all, she wasn't working, Alex!....Shut up! She leaned in closer, needing the scent as much as the taste, and for that one moment let the meaning of hooky reign supreme.

"Come home with me." He bumped her nose with his. "Play hooky with me," he sipped from her. "Get lost in me," he whispered as he stilled. "I don't want to be alone tonight," he said and buzzed her cheek, nipping her ear lobe.