Page 7

MERIT

I side glance at him.

He’s grinning, ear to ear. It’s pretty obvious he’s proud of himself.

I cock an eyebrow. “The family fun center?”

He tilts one corner of his mouth. “What? It’s a great idea.” He lifts the ballcap from his head and rakes a hand through the waves of his blond hair. I really like it when he raises his arms. It’s like every muscle in his body is on high-alert, taut with movement.

Today has to be our last date.

I have to squash this growing crush.

Why? It’s just not healthy for me.

I don’t think I’ve ever masturbated so much in my life. I’m surprised I don’t have trigger finger based on the last forty-eight hours. I’m embarrassed to admit I thought about him Friday night, back when I never even thought I would see him again. Back when he was just a one-time customer.

He shrugs, “It’s either this… or we can go to my house. Play in the swimming pool? Soak in the hot tub?” His eyes roam my body, from head to toe. “I’m more than happy to see you in a bathing suit.”

I roll my eyes. “And the family fun center it is.” I grab my purse and jump down from his truck.

He races around to meet me and shoves a ball of socks underneath my nose. “Will you put my socks in your purse?” He’s holding them so close to me, it tickles. I snort, scratching my nose, making him immediately laugh. Not waiting on me to respond, he drops them into my small handbag.

When his hand finds its way to the small of my back, I nearly fall on my face. I know it’s a common occurrence for men to do that, but it feels so intimate. My spine stiffens, and I quicken my pace, trying to stay one small step ahead of his guiding fingers.

It takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the dim lights of the interior. I’ve never been here before, so I have no idea what this place is all about. And well, it’s a kid’s dream. There’s a big arcade with flashing lights to my left, a large room filled with billiard tables and shuffleboard in front of me, and a ten-lane bowling complex to my right. A sign above the front desk tells me miniature golf and go-carts are outside.

Suddenly, the socks make sense. “Bowling?”

“Yeah, what did you think the socks were for?” Not waiting for my answer, he heads over to the desk.

There’s a teenage boy and a twenty-something woman working the counter. The boy is standing at the register, and I watch suspiciously as the woman pushes him aside, scrambling to be front and center. Quickly reaching up, she tugs the ponytail holder from her hair and finger-brushes her curls. “Holt. It’s so good to see you. It’s been a while. We were missing you.”

He smiles, acknowledging her fawning comment with a head nod. “Hey, Jessica.”

Has he dated this Jessica girl? Has he brought other women here?

“There’s two of us. We’ll do one game.” He points to the bowling alley.

She tilts her head to the side, flirting. “And you’re still a size thirteen?”

What a stupid question.

He’s a grown man. I highly doubt his foot size has changed recently.

“Very good memory,” he says, gifting Jessica a compliment. He turns, searching for me. “What size shoe do you wear?”

My stomach drops. “Oh, I’m fine. I’ll just watch you.”

His brow furrows. “You don’t wanna play?”

I shake my head. “I’m good.”

“Jessica, give us just a minute?”

I ignore the fact that she places her hand on top of his. “Sure, take your time.”

Pulling me to the side, he lowers his voice, stepping closer so I can hear him over the noise of the machines and the laughter of screaming children. “You don’t like bowling?”

“I like it. It’s fun.”

He squints his deep blue eyes, studying me. “Then why not do it? Do you have a phobia of wearing rental shoes?”

I can’t help but giggle. Because he isn’t kidding; he’s being serious. “No, it’s nothing like that. I actually haven’t even been to a bowling alley in years, not since college. But I always just watched everyone else.”

“But why?”

I bite my lip, looking down at the floor. “It’s more fun to watch.”

Well, that sounded like a sexual innuendo.

If Holt thinks the same thing, he doesn’t let on. “Don’t lie, Merit.”

Our second date. And he’s already driving me crazy.

I have no intention of telling him the truth, but somehow the words escape before I have the chance to catch them. “Edward and I used to go bowling with his law school friends. He hated the way I bowled. It embarrassed him. He preferred I just watched everyone else.”

Holt’s jaw tics, and a growl rumbles low in his chest. “He said that? He said you embarrassed him?”

“It’s no big deal, Holt. The way I bowl would embarrass anyone. I can’t do it the normal way.” I lift my hand and twist it back and forth. “It hurts my wrist. Where I broke it.”

Grabbing my right wrist, he wraps his calloused fingers around me. Staring deeply into my eyes, he plants a soft kiss on the sensitive skin, kissing away the pain of my long-healed broken bone. My heart thunders so violently in my chest, it hurts.

“He sounds like a bastard. Today, you bowl. I don’t care if you throw the damn thing like a baseball or use the ramp like a toddler, you’re playing. Got it?”

All I can do is nod.

“Now, what size shoe?”

“Nine.”

He leaves me standing in a stupor.

He pays for our game and grabs our shoes. Jessica definitely seems sad to see him go, but I can tell by the look on her face she’s fine with me leaving; she hopes she doesn’t see me again.

Trying to be a gentleman, Holt insists I go first. I glance to my left and to my right. Only four other lanes are being used. Two by families, one by an older couple, and one by a dad with three young boys. The oldest is probably in middle school. If I’m gonna make a fool of myself, at least we’re only at fifty percent capacity. Grabbing the pink swirled ball I picked out, I hold it in my hands and walk up to the dotted line. Squatting, I granny-bowl the ball as hard as I can. Clenching my fist in anticipation, I nearly faint when eight of the pins fall down.

My cheeks burn bright red when I turn around and see Holt laughing and clapping. His words of congratulation drown in my ears. I do my best to get a spare, but my ball rolls into the gutter halfway down the lane. When it’s Holt’s turn, I watch as he brings the heavy black bowling ball up to his chest, readying himself for a throw. He looks like a professional.

And then he surprises me. Unplugging his fingers from the holes, he crouches and does a perfect imitation of my granny-bowl.

My mouth falls open, and I watch in awe as all ten pins tumble down, bouncing into the black abyss. I jump up from my seat like my ass is on fire and clap. “Yay!”

He spins around on two heels, watching me with eager eyes. He throws his arms in the air. “Strike!” His shirt gloriously lifts. I catch a quick glimpse of the band of his black boxer briefs and the taut, tanned skin of his stomach.

Holy. Crap.

Thick cotton grows in my mouth, making it hard to swallow. I quickly stop clapping and pretend to busy myself with checking the electronic scoreboard above us.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he lazily walks over, stooping to whisper in my ear. His breath makes me shiver. “Did I embarrass you?”

He doesn’t step away, and I have to lean back to look him in the face. “Only if I embarrassed you.”

Softly smiling, he shakes his head. “Never.”

We’re just finishing our last frame when the dad and three boys walk over to us, cautiously waiting until Holt’s finished. Of course, he wins, but I don’t care. I had a really fun time.

“Excuse us, Coach?”

Holt hands his bowling shoes to me and slides his flip flops back onto his feet. Giving me a playful wink, he walks over to them, shaking hands with the man.

“Interesting way to bowl, Coach,” the man says slowly, unsure how Holt will take to his teasing.

Laughing, he nods in my direction. “I had a good teacher.”

The dad and his oldest son spend the next several minutes talking to Holt about football. Before they leave, Holt reaches into his pocket and gives a penny to each of the boys. When they walk away, he joins me, grabbing both of our used shoes from my hands. “Why do you do that?” I ask him.

He lifts an eyebrow, silently asking for more information.

“Hand out pennies?”

He laughs, thinking back. “I started doing it after I was drafted. All of a sudden, all these little kids wanted my autograph or my picture. After that, they’d just stand there. It’s like they wanted something more. Like they wanted me to talk to them or something.” He shakes his head. “I was just a kid myself and was scared senseless. I didn’t know what to say or do. The uncomfortable silence would drive me crazy. One day, I just pulled a penny out of my pocket and gave it to the little boy. It was completely random, but he flipped out.” He shrugs. “Been doing it ever sense.”

I like that story.

I hang back a few steps, watching him return our shoes to Jessica. She tries her best to keep him engaged in conversation, even touching his hand again. I can’t hear what she’s saying, but I know I don’t like it.

Holt’s biting back a smile when he finally joins me. I vow not to ask any questions and keep my big mouth shut, but I just can’t help myself. Apparently, I have absolutely zero self-control. “So… is she a good friend? Jessica, I mean.”

Before I know what’s happening, he’s looming over me. Bending his head, fanning his whisper across the side of my face. And the bad part is, I can’t even move. I was leaning against a wooden pillar when he walked up, and now I’m trapped.

Trapped. And entirely too close to him.

“You’re doing it again.” The low timbre of his voice sends a boiling heat through parts of my body that have long been cold and dead.

I lick my lips, trying to unstick them. “Doing what?”

“Scrunching your nose.”

“I don’t scrunch my nose.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “Don’t lie, Merit.”

He turns his face. His nose brushes against my cheekbone.

And then…

The doors behind us open, and a group of twenty rowdy children come racing into the fun center, followed by a small straggle of adults carrying a birthday cake, a bundle of balloons, and handful of wrapped presents. Taking advantage of the situation, I slide to the side, giving myself a wide berth from Holt.

He let me move, of course, because he’s a gentleman. If he wanted to keep me there, he could’ve. He’s built like a… well, like a professional athlete. A specimen among men. Hard and muscular and lean. But he let me go. He could see I needed some space.

Clasping my hands in front of me, I study a speck of trash on the floor. I can’t believe how badly I wanted to grab his neck and force his lips to mine. To taste and touch. And we’re not even alone. We’re in the middle of a crowded building.

“Wanna hit some games in the arcade?”

Taking a pained breath, I look up, staring deeply into his eyes. Even in the darkened room, the blue color steals the breath from my lungs. “Sure. But only if it’s my treat.”

He snickers. “What?”

“You paid for bowling. And supper last night. That couldn’t have been cheap; you ordered every freakin’ thing on the menu. It’s only fair I pay.”

“How is that fair? I’m the one who invited you, that means I should pay.”

Ignoring him, I stomp off in the direction of the arcade, looking for the coin machine. He reaches out, trying to grab my arm, but I speed up. I don’t think it’s appropriate to run inside here, so I kind of bounce away in a quasi-jog while pulling a twenty-dollar bill from my wallet. Holt lunges forward, trying to wrestle it from me, but I swat his hand away and feed the money into the machine. I smile triumphantly as the machine loudly dings, happy with my deposit, and shoots a waterfall of quarters from its belly.

He rolls his eyes. “Pretty proud of yourself, huh?”

I press my lips together, feigning innocence.

Playfully knocking me out of the way, he scoops the coins into a plastic cup. Leaving him be, I walk up the aisle, looking at all the games. I haven’t been to an arcade since I was a kid. Everything looks so different.

“Some of the classic games are in the back, if you wanna hit those.”

I nod, following him. “Do you come here often?”

He drops coins for us into two Skee-Ball machines. “What makes you ask that?”

“Well, you know your way around.” I put my purse on the ground and grab one of the smooth brown balls. I toss it up the ramp and watch as it drops into a forty-point slot. “And you never answered my question about Jessica. She seems like a good friend.”

“Is that your way of asking if Jessica and I have dated?”

I could lie.

But I don’t want to.

“Yes.”

He doesn’t immediately say anything. He just reaches up and slowly turns his baseball cap around backward. My crotch tingles with electricity, making my clit vibrate and hum. I quickly pick up a ball and toss it. It doesn’t even make it up the ramp. In pitiful fashion, it rolls back down to me.

“I have never dated Jessica. Nor have I ever wanted to.” Smirking, he effortlessly throws a ball and rings one of the hard to reach hundred-point slots in the corner. “I bring the kids here sometimes. Anna and Laura love the mini-golf. Ty’s too young to really do anything, but he still loves to try. They give him a little plastic putter, and he carries it around.”

“So, you don’t bring dates here?”

“No.” He doesn’t glance over at me; he just tosses another ball.

I know that shouldn’t make me happy, but it does. Really happy.

We blow through our quarters, laughing and playing different games. By the end, we have a pretty good handful of tickets. On our way out, he hands the tickets to a little girl standing next to her mom. I’m surprised he didn’t keep them.

“You didn’t wanna save the tickets? Give them to your nieces for the next time they come? Let them save up for a big prize or something?”

He shakes his head. “Anna and Laura never keep their tickets. They always give them to someone else.”

“Seriously? Most kids flip out over the junky little prizes at the arcade.”

He shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant but clearly drowning in a sea of pride. “My nieces aren’t normal kids.”

On our way out the front door, his hand snakes around my back. I don’t have a chance to slide from his embrace, though. The sudden brightness of the sun blinds me, making me sneeze. His fingertips trail up, caressing the side of my waist. “Bless you.”

My heart stops pumping. Every nerve-ending in my body freezes, turning to stone.

All of a sudden, his hand shifts lower.

Holy crap. He’s gonna grab my ass.

Instead of copping a feel, his finger hooks in the belt loop of my shorts and he spins me around. I stumble. Without thinking, I reach out, planting my hands on his chest. I can feel the hard lines of his body underneath the thin fabric of his shirt.

It burns me, scalds my skin.

It causes thoughts of indecency to swirl in my head like a tornado.

Like the kind of indecency you need to go to the altar and ask forgiveness for.

“Why do you do that?” he asks.

Gasping in embarrassment, I quickly pull my hands away. “I’m sorry.” I look down at the concrete of the parking lot, fumbling for words. “I told you I was clumsy.”

I don’t point out the fact that he’s the one who made me trip…even though I should.

“Not that. I mean, why do you freeze every time I touch the small of your back? And trying to hold your hand? Taking Anna’s cat to the vet is an easier task than that.”

My head snaps up. I try to count the freckles running across the bridge of his nose, but it’s a losing battle; they’re as numerous as the stars in the sky. “I’m just not used to public displays of affection.”

His finger leaves my belt loop and traces the beads of my spine. His head lowers, giving his whisper an edge of privacy. “But I don’t do it for the public. I do it for me.”

I can’t help myself. My mouth opens, and a small sigh escapes. I want him to kiss me. So badly. So damn badly.

But alas, apparently, the two college-aged girls in the parking lot want the same thing.

Their screech nearly bursts my eardrum. They waste no time racing over to us and grabbing Holt by the arms, yanking him around like he’s their very own marionette doll. “I can’t believe it’s you!” one cries.

The more brazen one openly flirts, not ashamed in the least little bit. “You’re even sexier in person. Pictures don’t do you justice, but I’m sure you hear that all the time, right?”

What a stupid question.

What’s he supposed to say to that.

Holt smiles and politely nods. “Thank you.”

“We have to get a picture with you.” The less feisty of the two pushes her cell phone into my hand. “Would you mind?”

Yes. I absolutely mind every minute of this torture.

Gritting my teeth, I take a few steps back and point the cell phone camera in their general direction. Immediately, they flank to either side, forcing their way underneath Holt’s arms. He has no choice but to lay his hands on them. I just assume he would touch their backs—like he did with me—but instead, he lays a tentative hand high on each of their shoulders. Evidently, the girls took a full semester class on Selfie 101 because they know just the right way to arch their backs to accentuate their breasts. And they know just the right angle in which to hitch their legs to make themselves look taller. And they know just the right place to grab their waists with their hands to make themselves look like a size two.

It all really pisses me off.

I clench my jaw and center the three of them in the camera frame. Unable to control myself, I discreetly slide my finger over the lens, blocking Holt’s face from the picture. I would block the faces of the two girls, but there’s no way to do that since they’re on either side of him. And seeing how he’s a giant compared to them, it’s pretty easy to cover his head. They’ll still have the picture. They’ll still be able to gawk at Holt’s perfect body. They just won’t be able to stare at his face and daydream.

“All good!” I shove the phone back into her hand, almost violently, and speed walk in the direction of Holt’s truck.

My heart pounds against my ribcage like a freight train. I can’t believe I just did that. I can’t even turn around and look at them. A small ounce of shame worms its way into the pit of my stomach. Holt says goodbye to them and jogs up next to me, clicking his key fob to unlock the doors. I jump in the truck with lightning speed, silently begging Holt to hurry. Fortunately, he senses my anxiety and doesn’t waste any time. I hold my breath, refusing to breathe, until we pull out onto the main road. When I see the girls far off in the rearview mirror, I finally exhale.

I’m surprised by his raspy chuckle. “I saw what you did.”

I nervously bite my lip. “Mmmm?”

“You covered the picture with your finger.”

I lie. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He smiles. A completely heart-warming and heart-breaking smile. “Whatever you say, Mer.”

And then he winks at me.