Page 34 of Trusting Tanner
She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m rooting for the other team, remember?”
He set her on her feet, but she didn’t let go of him, so he didn’t let go of her, either. And he didn’t give a shit that Devon was shooting daggers from his eyes. Although he had no idea why. They’d been getting along fine all day.
“Don’t start your victory dance just yet,” Brittany said. “There’s a flag on the play.”
Tanner’s gaze snapped back to the TV.
Devon cursed. “I need another beer. Anyone else?” He glanced around.
“Yeah, I’ll take one more,” Jason said.
“Hey.” Jules’s hands were on Tanner’s face, cupping his cheeks and turning his attention back to her. “Can we talk for a sec?”
“Now?” He raised a brow.
She nodded. There was a look in her eyes that gave him pause, but for the most part, her expression was unreadable. His stomach sank. Was she going to back out on their bet, tell him she wasn’t going to go out with him even if his team won?
“Yeah, sure.” He took her hand. “I’ll grab the beers. Anyone else need anything?”
“I’ll take some water,” Holly said.
“Coming right up.” Tanner led Jules into the kitchen, not missing the way Devon tracked his movements. “Okay, what’s up?” he asked, gripping the edge of the counter and leaning back.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said.
Here it comes.He clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes, although he wasn’t sure there was anything he could do to brace himself for another rejection. He wanted her. Period. Full stop. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. And he’d do whatever it took to get her. If that meant he had to listen to her say no a million more times, he’d figure out a way to deal with it.
She approached him, a sly smile tugging at her mouth. A chorus of “oohhhs” erupted from the living room, and the muscle in his jaw ticked. She glanced over her shoulder then back at him. “The game’s almost over.”
“I know.” He cocked his head in confusion. That could not be what she wanted to talk about.
“I don’t care if the Giants win.” She shook her head.
His eyebrows rose, and his ears rang with the meaning behind her words. “Wow. Well, I guess you’re honest.” He should’ve known better than to try to bet her into going out with him.
She laughed—actually fucking laughed—and then patted his chest like he was a child who needed comforting. But he wasn’t a child. He was a grown-ass man whose body ignited in primal ways with a single touch from her. She stepped closer, her hands going to his waist. Then she looked up at him under her lashes.
He clutched the counter so tight, his fingers ached from the force, but he knew if he let go, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from touching her. His heart was in his throat, and fear coiled in his gut. She was a full foot shorter than him, and she couldn’t weigh more than 120 pounds soaking wet, yet here she was, wielding all the power. She had him trapped, terrified of breathing wrong for fear she might turn her back on him for good.
Her fingers snuck under the hem of his shirt and flirted across his stomach, teasing around the waistband of his shorts. He sucked in a breath, trying to stop the erotic fantasies racing through his mind. “Jules,” he warned, his voice rough.
“I don’t care if the Giants win because”—she licked her lips—“because I want to go out with you regardless of who wins.”
He remained frozen in place, waiting a full beat to see if she was going to laugh again or tell him she was joking. But she didn’t. The tension eased from his body. “Jesus Christ, Jules. You had me scared shitless.”
“Scared? What did you think I was going to say?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “That you hated my guts, and if I didn’t stop asking you out you were going to get a restraining order. Or maybe you were going to tell me you realized you were in love with Devon.”
She sighed with aggravation. “If we’re going to go out, you need to stop worrying about Dev. We’re just friends.”
He still didn’t buy it, at least not as far as Devon was concerned, but he wasn’t about to stand there and argue with her. “Done.” Releasing the counter, he flexed the ache from his fingers. He slipped his arms around her and rested his forehead to hers. When his heart calmed enough so he didn’t feel like he was going to vomit, he said, “You and me. Saturday night.”
“Saturday? I’m surprised you don’t want to go out tonight.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
A mischievous glint sparkled in her eyes. He was in so much trouble.
