“You any good?”
God damn it. Why was that man always where she didn’t want him? She pulled out her darts, then turned and eyed Bo, who was propping up the doorway with a broad shoulder, an easy but daring smile on that mouth of his. It made her want to smack him.
Or kiss him.
Where that thought came from, she had no idea. She weighed the darts in her hand. “I’m okay.”
“Yeah?” He didn’t believe her, it was in his voice.
Spoiling for trouble, she balanced, aimed, and threw the first dart.
Bull’s-eye.
He arched a brow. “Better than okay, I’d say. How about a game?”
“You any good?” she asked him, mocking him.
A slow smile curved his lips and stirred the butterflies in her belly. “I’m okay,” he said.
She handed him her darts but he shook his head. “Oh, no. Ladies first,” he said politely. “Three darts. How about highest score wins?”
Hmmm, should be no problem for her, she’d been playing darts since before she could fly. “Wins what?”
His eyes heated and darkened. “Winner’s choice.”
Staring at him, she experienced a fission of unease. “Um…”
“What’s the matter, Mel, you afraid I’ll win?”
“No.” Ha. Bastard. “I’m going to win.”
“Then you’re afraid of what you’d pick as winner’s choice.” He shrugged. “No worries, if you’re afraid. We don’t have to play.”
“Bite me.”
“When and where?”
Her belly quivered again, damn him. Ignoring his soft laugh, she moved to the board to pull out the one dart she’d thrown, extremely aware of him behind her, tall, watchful, quiet now. Back at the line, she took a deep breath and threw.
Her first dart hit the triple twenty, and a confident smile returned to her mouth. Her game was still on. Smirking seemed unsportsmanlike so she bit her lip to keep it back and threw her next dart.
Double twelve. Hmmm. A little off.
“Worried?” he asked, from right behind her now.
He stood at her shoulder. She could feel the heat of him, the strength. And if she closed her eyes she could almost feel his breath at her temple-
No. No closing her eyes. Because then she could smell him, just soap and all man. “Back up, you’re in my breathing space.”
He grinned, a flash of white teeth and pure trouble. “You’re worried.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m never worried.”
He just kept grinning.
She threw her last dart. She knew better than to throw when mad, to throw when she hadn’t taken a deep breath and gotten him out of her system.
She landed a three. Straight up, no double, no triple.
“Eighty-seven,” he said, and winced. “Ouch.”
“You think you can do better?”
“Let’s see.” He made sure to brush against her as he went for the darts, pulling them from the board, arm raised, biceps straining at the sleeve of his T-shirt.
He caught her looking at him and winked.
She ground her teeth and backed up to give him room.
He eyed the dartboard, aiming with his tongue between his teeth, gaze narrowed in concentration. Then he let the dart fly.
Like a pro.
Triple goddamn twenty. Catching her jaw hanging open, he smiled. “I’ve seen a guy do this once or twice.”
Oh, boy. Had she really agreed the winner could pick the prize?
Was she insane?
She forced a yawn. “Man. I’m awfully tired.”
“Not falling for that one, mate,” he said, and threw his second dart.
Double fifteen.
She stared into his green eyes and saw the humor spiked there amongst the flames. He was playing with her.
Crossing her arms, she took a big step back and waited for him to throw the third dart, but she knew without looking he’d beaten her score.
“Another triple twenty,” he said very softly, and came up behind her, his legs brushing the backs of hers. “I win.”
His hands settled on her shoulders and turned her around, his smile positively wicked, eyes flashing.
In spite of herself, her heart caught. Her nipples tightened. Bad nipples. “I’m not sleeping with you because you won.”
He laughed. “Darlin’, trust me, if that was my prize, I wouldn’t waste our time sleeping.”
The growl began low in her throat, and he laughed again. “But as lovely as your body is…” His gaze swept over it from head to toe and back again, stopping at all the points that tingled and burned. “I think I’m going to pass.”
Wait a minute. He was going to pass? She didn’t know whether to be giddy with relief or insulted.
“It’s information I’m looking for,” he said very quietly now. “And you have it.”
She crossed her arms. “I don’t know where Sally is.”
“Swear it.”
“I swear it.” She held her breath, expecting him to call her a liar. Or demand another prize.
He did neither. He just stared at her, as if assessing her for honesty, then nodded once and walked away.
Chapter 9
The next morning, Mel braced herself and checked her e-mail, but found nothing odd. When the early North Beach rush faded, she took the leave-it-alone letter and envelope to the post office to see if they could read the return stamp for her. She waited twenty minutes in line only to be told that the return stamp couldn’t be read, too blurred.
But the barcode…another thing entirely. They could trace that. If the right guy was in, that is, which he wasn’t. They told her to come back tomorrow. The joys of rural routing.
Mel got back to North Beach and had a charter to fly to Santa Cruz, which took her until midafternoon. Finally back at her desk, she called her attorney. He was sorry for the delay, he’d been out of town, he’d get back to her regarding the deed first thing tomorrow.
Warning: another sleepless night ahead.
But she still had the rest of the afternoon to face. She changed into her coveralls to put some time in on the Hawker. Char caught her heading to the main hangar and called to her over the sound of Motley Crue on the boom box, rattling the windows. “Come eat before I close up.”
Mel shook her head. “Thanks, but I’ve still got to-”
“Eat,” Char said in that Southern voice of steel. “You probably skipped lunch, didn’t you?” She was fanning her shiny face with an oven mitt, looking flushed. “I’ve been talking to men all day and I need an estrogen fix. Please? I know you’re swamped but just leave it alone and keep me company for a few.”
Mel went still. Leave it alone. The three little innocuous words that had been ringing in her head for days. Coincidence? She took a good look at Char, who was clearly overheated and quite possibly the sweetest woman Mel had ever met. There didn’t seem to be any way that Char could have anything to do with the e-mail. For one thing, she and Al hadn’t come to North Beach until after Sally had left the country. They’d never even met her. “You look hot, Char.”
“Damn hot flashes! I just stripped down in the kitchen and hosed myself off with the handheld faucet in the sink and it didn’t help! Look here, I’ve got five-cheese lasagna. The best in the state.”
Al poked his head out of the kitchen. “In the whole country, babe.”
“Oh, you. You’re just trying to get lucky again. But I’m too DAMN hot, so back off.”
Al lifted his hands and backed off.
Char blew a strand of hair from her head as her gaze swiveled to Mel. “Now I mean it. Get over here and eat.”