Walt ran a hand through his hair, picked up his drink. “I was trying so hard to think she just wanted grandkids, but you’re probably right.”
“Not the grandkid guilt. Try being a woman. My mother thinks that if a uterus isn’t used before the age of thirty it’s going to shrivel up and fall out.”
Walt’s eyes instantly watered as the drink in his mouth turned into a coughing fit of laughter.
Chapter Five
They never finished their game. They eventually moved to the diner across the street for coffee and pie. Conversation with Dakota never stopped. They snarked on their parents and moved on to those in the bowling alley who were shocked when they got up and walked away from the game.
Dakota didn’t have a filter. He liked that. She said it the way she saw it and didn’t seem to care if that pissed anyone off.
“You pulled what out of his ass?” she asked, her dark eyes glued to his.
“A cucumber, but I didn’t take it out. Poor kid needed to go under and the GI guy fished it out.”
“How old was he?”
“Sixteen.” Stories from the ER never did bore his friends who weren’t in the trenches with him.
“Wow. And his parents just stood there?”
“I don’t know who was more embarrassed, the kid or the parents.”
“That’s one crazy fun job you have there, Doc. Who knew?”
He eventually paid the bill and drove her home.
Five minutes from her condominium, she turned to him with a straight face. They were at a stoplight and he met her gaze. “What?”
“Why aren’t you married?”
His heart squeezed in his chest. Instead of answering, he turned her question back on her. “Why aren’t you married?”
“That’s easy. I’m outspoken, opinionated, and if you haven’t been told, I write porn. Which is either a complete turn-on for the wrong guys or turnoff for the right ones. Add to that I make more money than most of the guys I’ve dated and that either intimidates them or makes me wonder if they’re around just for the cash.”
The light turned green and he moved down the road. “You’ve given this some thought.”
She sighed. “Not really. That’s a practiced line I lay on my mom each time she asks.”
“A line based on facts?” Because from what he’d learned about her on this date, nothing she’d just said wasn’t a fact.
“Some. I guess. I write books where two flawed people meet, fall madly in love, and will do anything to be with each other. I’m not looking for that, not at this point anyway. I’m happy being single.”
He turned down her street.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she told him.
He took his time answering her, parked in her driveway, and opened her door. “I’m happy being single, too,” he told her as they stood outside his car.
The light from her porch bounced off her face. She leaned against the car and offered a nod. “No one to answer to.” Her words rang true in his head.
“No one to worry about when I have to fly off to third world countries.”
“No one to get upset when I’m up at two in the morning writing like a madwoman.”
“No one to wake me after a long graveyard shift.”
Her smile was weak and all Walt could see was her lips.
“No one . . .” she murmured.
He reached over and cupped her cheek. The warmth and softness of her skin had him stepping closer. Her lips parted and he took his first taste. Apple pie and coffee laced her kiss and mixed with him. When he melded his body to hers and felt her hand reach around him, the desire to have no one started to fade.
A simple first kiss shifted course when she moaned and opened for more. This kiss zinged right past his head, down to his toes . . . oh, it stopped in the middle and made his jeans tight, but he expected that.
It was hard to keep the kiss simple, impossible to pull away. Had they managed a conversation in the hotel that first night at the bar in Miami and ended up like this, maybe he’d already know what it felt like to be inside her. Simple affairs with nameless women were an enjoyable heartless release. The woman in his arms now didn’t fit that bill. He knew her too well to place her in that category.
Her hand slid down his waist, over his hip.
Walt pulled his lips away. “You’re making it hard to be a gentleman.”
She didn’t remove her hand as her smoky eyes mixed with her sexy voice. “You make it hard to be a lady.”
He kissed her again . . . open-mouthed, indecent kisses.
Walt heard her purse hit the pavement before her arms slid over his shoulders.
Four words . . . four words and they could finish this.
Can I come in? He’d said them before, knew without any doubt he’d say them again . . .
Walt captured her head in his hands, enjoyed the way she pressed against him.
She pulled away, breathless. “I want to invite you in . . .” It wasn’t an invitation, but an admission.
“I’d want to accept that invitation . . .”
She leaned her forehead on his chest and took a deep breath.
Walt pulled her close and simply held her.
Mary ran over early the next morning, letting herself in as she had for the past two years. “He didn’t stay the night?”
Dakota looked up from her coffee and frowned. “Do you ever knock?”
Mary moved to the coffeepot, grabbed a cup, and made herself at home.
“We spent time in the back of a squad car together . . . nothing says a bond that never needs to knock again like that.” Mary shoved into an empty chair at the kitchen table and huddled over her black coffee. “How did it go?”
“We went bowling.”
Mary blinked.
“I know, right . . . bowling!”
“So it sucked.”
“No. It was awesome. Totally kicked back . . . couple of drinks, pizza.”
“And bowling.” Mary didn’t sound convinced.
“We knocked over a few pins. Did we finish a game?” Dakota glanced at the ceiling as if it held the answers. “No. We left on the eighth frame.”
“You didn’t finish the game?”
“We were too busy talking. His parents suck, kinda like mine. Loves being a doctor, loves the flexibility of the ER. He lives in an apartment.”
A look of horror passed over Mary’s face. “Why? He must make money.”
“Doesn’t want the commitment of a mortgage, home repairs. I don’t know.”