Page 6 of Bedding the Biker Next Door

He shrugged. “Glad I could help. That joker was drunk. I doubt he’d have the nerve to do any of that while sober.”

“Yeah, he was pretty wasted,” she agreed. “You usually don’t see that here.”

He glanced around at the (now) tame bar, nodded, and turned to her. “I’m Cole.” He held out his hand.

“Jill.” Good, she remembered her own name. That was a start. She slipped her hand into his, reveling in the dry toughness of his skin, and shook perhaps a moment too long.

He hesitated briefly. “Your friend left. Do you need to get going, or can I buy you a drink?”

Now it was Jill who hesitated. It wasn’t likely they had anything in common. But the thought of going home alone suddenly seemed terribly depressing. Why not stay a little while and enjoy his company? When would she ever get another chance to flirt with a tall, sexy man who was obviously kind and charming, too?

Cole grinned, and she suspected her conflicted feelings were written all over her face.

Oh, what the hell, she thought. She was feeling off-kilter because of what had happened with Whiskey Breath, and her nerves sizzled with attraction for the man standing in front of her. Might as well enjoy it as long as she could.

“I’d love another drink. Thanks.”

* * *

Cole pulled out Jill’s chair, then took his own seat, motioning to a waitress for their drinks. As they waited, he asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?” She seemed to be, and she’d handled herself fine when that drunken ass had bothered her. Even so, when the man hadn’t immediately backed off, a familiar sense of protectiveness had gripped Cole. He hated to see guys acting like dicks, especially to women. He had done everything in his power to keep from ripping the guy in half.

“Fine. Thanks to you, he didn’t touch me.” Jill smiled. Natural. Pretty. The drinks arrived and Jill asked, “So you seemed comfortable confronting that jerk. Are you a cop or something?”

It was a perfectly reasonable question, but Cole didn’t like talking about himself. Talk of his job would eventually turn to other things, maybe even his mom, and that was the last thing he wanted. He took a swig off his beer. “Something. What about you?”

“I run a daycare,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow. Daycare. It fit with her girl-next-door looks, and yet it didn’t. As he’d noticed before, there seemed to be more to her than met the eye, something he’d confirmed when she’d gone toe-to-toe with the guy who’d bothered her. Her words had been calm and clear, yet the tilt of her chin had been defiant, and an unmistakable fire had burned in her eyes. All he’d been able to think about was seeing that fire directed at him in a way that was all about pleasure. A way that would make her voice shake with need.

Damn, what had they been talking about?

Daycare. Kids.

He couldn’t imagine working with kids all day. They didn’t exactly scare him, but they seemed like a lot of work. And maybe they did scare him on some level, at least when it came to the idea of having his own. What if he couldn’t handle the responsibility? What if it made him feel tied down? His interests and profession didn’t exactly broadcast Soccer Dad. And Lord knew his own birth father wasn’t a ringing endorsement for parental commitment and proficiency either. The fact Cole didn’t even know the man’s name was proof enough.

“So you work with kids all day. That’s brave.” He almost winced at how lame he sounded, but Jill didn’t seem to care.

She giggled. “Yeah, it can get a little scary sometimes. Are you from LA?”

“Born and raised. What about you?”

“Same.”

He nodded, taking in all her pretty features and smooth skin. Then he realized he’d been silently staring at her, and she was blushing. Catching sight of the dartboard over her shoulder, he cleared his throat. “You ever throw a dart?”

“Once or twice.” Her mouth quirked, as if she was keeping a secret. Then, she got up and strutted over to the dartboard with a confidence that made Cole instinctively realize she’d not only thrown a dart before, but she was probably damned good at the game.

Like he’d suspected, she wasn’t all sweet and sugar, but a little spice, too.

God, he wanted to take a big, long bite out of her.

Cole pushed back his chair, walked to the dartboard, and plucked the darts out one by one. He handed the three with red flags to her, keeping the blue ones for himself. “Ladies first.”

As she took the darts, their fingers touched, and his mind went straight to imagining all the things his fingers could do to her. And what she could do to him—after she recovered from the series of mind-blowing multiple orgasms he’d give her, that is.

“I can show you how to throw if you want,” he offered, a slight smile gracing his mouth.

She licked her lips, then nodded. “Sure. That would—that would be great.”

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