Part 15 (1/2)
”We went in and out of Paradise all the time in the early seventies. My father even worked now and then at some of the farms. As soon as he got a little cash, we hit the road to find a new game.” He ran a hand through his hair, looked at the restaurant, then back to her. ”I need some time to think, but in the meantime, are you hungry?”
”Starved,” she admitted.
”Rico's Pizza is nearby. It's not fancy, but it's good. What do you say?”
”I say extra large with pineapple and ham.”
His tense face eased into a reluctant smile. ”This is Kentucky, darlin', no pineapples within a hundred miles.” He opened the door to his truck. ”But I think we can find something you like.”
Katherine adjusted her seat belt as Zach climbed into the truck. She smoothed down her dress, which had crept up over her legs, then turned to lock the door.
Zach sent her an amused look. ”You can lock that door, Kat, but I've got news for you. Looking the way you do tonight, smelling the way you smell, you're in far more danger from me than anyone on the street.”
She caught her breath at the s.h.i.+mmer of desire in his eyes. ”I-I don't know what to say.”
”Well, that's a first,” he said with a laugh as he gunned the engine.
Katherine struggled for a witty, s.e.xy reply, but nothing came to mind, so she settled for what she hoped was cool silence. A few minutes later they arrived at the restaurant.
Rico's was small, with green and white checkered tablecloths, dimly lit lamps, and a jukebox playing in the corner. It was a warm, friendly restaurant, and Katherine felt immediately more relaxed.
”This is nice,” she said.
”Probably not what you're used to.”
She inwardly sighed, wondering if she'd ever convince him that style and money had never mattered to her. If they had, she would have stayed in California.
Zach led her over to a corner booth. ”I'll order the pizza,” he said as she sat down. ”What do you like?”
”Oh, just get whatever you want. I'll eat anything.”
”Fine.”
”Except anchovies,” she said hastily.
”Got it.” He turned to leave.
”And olives. I'm not big on black olives. Maybe no green peppers either.”
He flung her an amused glance. ”What about onions?”
Katherine hesitated. ”Really, whatever you want, but maybe not onions.”
”Pepperoni?”
”Perfect.”
”A dangerous pizza for a dangerous woman,” he said with a laugh, then went to place their order.
Katherine made a face at his back. So maybe she wasn't a risk taker with pizza. She'd gotten herself all the way to Kentucky and was having dinner with the s.e.xiest man on the face of the planet. If that wasn't living on the edge, she didn't know what was.
Zach returned a few minutes later with a pitcher of soda and two gla.s.ses. ”I didn't figure you for the beer type.”
”You never know,” she said, even though she absolutely hated beer.
He slid into the booth, edging over until his thigh touched her leg. ”Now, this is nice,” he said, his voice low and husky. ”Very nice.”
She cleared her throat. ”What's in the back room?”
”A pool table.”
”Do you play?”
”Yes.”
”Would you play with me?”
He gave her another slow, s.e.xy grin. ”Honey, there are things I'd like to play with you, but pool isn't one of them.”
”Well, pool is your only option,” she said, sliding out of the booth before she melted into a big puddle of desire at Zach Tyler's feet. When he put his mind to charming a woman, he was almost irresistible.
Zach followed her into the back room where a pool table rested in the center, with pinball machines and video games along the walls. Several kids were playing the arcade games, but the pool table was empty.
”Okay, here's what you do,” Zach said. ”You want to hit the white ball with your cue. That's the stick you use. You knock the white ball against the other b.a.l.l.s so they roll into the pockets. But you don't want to hit the black one, not until the end.”
She listened to his explanation with a growing smile. ”That sounds complicated.”
”We don't have to play.”
”No, I want to.”
”Something else new to try, huh? Well, I suppose it's all part of the slumming experience.”
Katherine took a cue stick off the wall. ”This is what I use to hit the white ball?”
”That's right. Now, let me show you how to hold it.”
Zach came up behind her, his hard body against her back making it difficult to concentrate. He put his hands over her hands, showing her how to hold the stick, how to tap the ball.
”I think I can do it,” she said. ”Why don't we make a bet?”
He sent her a doubtful look. ”Why don't we see if you can hit one ball into the pocket?”
”But it would be more fun with a bet. Tell you what. If you win, I'll give you a really good kiss.”
”Keep talking.”
”And if I win, you'll teach me how to ride a horse.”
His laugh was more of a snort. ”Yeah, right. Sure, why not? You're never going to beat me.”