Page 26 of Off Limits: The Firsts

“No, it’s not. What are you afraid of? That you might actually like the story and maybe get a few pointers to help better your game?” My tone is coy, smile playful as he looks over at me.

“Are you telling me you don’t think I have game?” he asks, mock offended.

“On the field? Yes. Off the field? I couldn’t tell you.”

“I’ve got game all right. No worries there, Kitty. Just you wait and see.” His voice may sound irritated but the smile on his lips says different.

I roll my eyes while trying not to read into his comment. Just you wait and see. Was he saying it off the cuff? Or is he interested in me? And more importantly, do I want him to be?

“No game,” he mutters under his breath and then laughs. “That’s hilarious.”

Twenty bucks says he’s listening to a romance sooner rather than later.

A man’s ego can’t handle being called into question.

He’ll have to find out the truth for himself.

“So what was that all about back at the park?”

I glance around the hole-in-the-wall bar where we’ve ended up. It’s downtown, somewhat near the ballpark but outside the area of the city’s revitalization efforts. Texan memorabilia lines the walls, and country music plays softly on the speakers.

“It was nothing. Just an obligation I had to fulfill.” He’s nonchalant in his response and makes a point to avert his eyes from mine.

“Whatever, Wylder.” I roll my eyes. “You don’t get to act like that was nothing, because whatever it was, those kids loved that you were there, and that’s pretty freaking awesome. So, ‘fess up. What was that all about?”

“Why were you so upset earlier?” His eyes meet mine, searching and questioning, as he lifts the bottle of beer to his lips and takes a sip.

I shake my head. “We’re not going there again.”

“Then I guess you’re not going to know what I was doing at the park, now, are you?”

“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

“It’s a mighty fine pain you’ve got there, too, then.” The words come out of a mouth turned up in a smile, but with eyes loaded with suggestion.

“Flattery doesn’t make me spill my secrets.”

“It wasn’t flattery. It’s the truth.”

“Well, in that case, flattery will get you everywhere,” I respond, our smiles wide but the unanswered questions still lingering between us. “You’re really not going to tell me what was going on?”

He shrugs. “Seems that way, doesn’t it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever played show-me-yours-and-I’ll-show-you-mine, and I doubt I’m going to start at the age of twenty-five,” I say dryly.

His laugh carries over the noise of the bar. “That’s a pity. You should definitely play it once in your lifetime. You never know, it might be fun.” That gleam is back in his eye, highlighted by a lift of his eyebrows, and once again I’m aware of how he captivates me without even trying.

“Tell me something about you.” He changes the topic, his expression daring me to refuse him.

“I never played in the major leagues.”

He narrows his eyes and purses his lips. “That’s the best you can do?”

I shrug and mimic his posture. “How about this,” I murmur as I lean in a little closer, “you tell me what you were doing earlier, and I’ll tell you something about me.”

His laugh is quick but telling. “I see I’ve been outmaneuvered. You’re a tricky one, turning that back on me, Scout Dalton, but I’ll bite. God knows if I don’t, your stubborn ass will have us volleying the same question back and forth all night.”

“I’m so glad you have me all figured out.”