She surprised the hell out of me by forgoing the usual bullshit “I’m sorry for your loss.” Instead, she looked me straight in the eye and said something so few had ever said to me. “You must miss him.”
I nodded as the familiar ache of grief clenched in my chest. No matter how old you are or how big a man you think you are, there’s nothing like losing your father. “I miss him each and every day. The years go by, but it doesn’t really get easier, even though people love to spout that ‘time heals all wounds’ bullshit.”
“I know what you mean,” Samantha murmured.
Wanting to change the subject, I said, “Unless you have any more boxing questions, looks like it’s my turn.”
“Nope. I think I’m good. Of course, if you’re ever in the ring again, I’d love to come see you in action.”
“Seriously?”
Cocking her head at me, she countered, “What? Don’t I look like the kind of woman who would enjoy a good fight?”
I grinned. “Not exactly.”
Samantha wagged a finger at me. “Now you’re the one using stereotypes.”
With a snort, I replied, “Whatever. Most of the chicks have to be dragged by their old man to watch a fight.”
“Trust me. If you were going to be there, no one would have to drag me.”
The conviction in her tone had me licking my lips in anticipation. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Then she cut me off at the knees when she said, “I’m sure Marley would love to see you, too.”
Somehow among all the talk of boxing and flirting, I had forgotten all about him. On the one hand, I felt like a complete and total bastard for wanting him out of the picture so I could have Samantha all to myself, and on the other, I resented him for being Samantha’s boyfriend. I wanted to believe he wasn’t good for her—that he probably cheated on her or mistreated her. But knowing Marley as I did, I couldn’t imagine him doing anything like that. He might be a tough talker, but he was a grown-up Boy Scout at heart.
To get my mind off Marley and lusting after his girlfriend, I leaned over the table and positioned my cue. Needing to prove myself, I said, “Orange five. Left corner pocket.”
“Going for a challenge right out of the gate?” she asked innocently.
“Damn straight.”
After sinking the ball with ease, I righted myself and met Samantha’s expectant gaze. I knew I needed to find a question that didn’t sound remotely like I was coming on to her. “So, what’s your family background like?”
Her eyes widened as if my question had taken her off guard. “Excuse me?”
“I mean, like I’m a little English and Scottish with maybe some German thrown in way back in there. But you look like you have an exotic background.”
“Ah, I see what you’re asking now. Actually, when it comes down to it, I’m more a mutt than anything.”
“Funny, that was what I was thinking, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to call you that.”
Samantha laughed. “Wise choice there.” After shifting the cue in her hand, she said, “Let’s see. I’m pretty much pure Cuban on my dad’s side. Then my mom’s family is mostly Irish Catholic.”
“You’re not as much of a mutt as I thought you were.”
“I guess not.” With a wink, she added, “Thanks for the compliment about being exotic-looking.”
“I just call it as I see it.”
“Well, I like the way you see it. No one has ever called me exotic before.”
I shifted on my feet as electricity seemed to pop and crackle all around us. For a moment, I questioned if it was because I truly wanted Samantha, or if it was more that I wanted what I knew I couldn’t have.
Waving my cue stick at Samantha, I said, “You’re up again.”
She once again effortlessly sank her ball. After lifting her gaze to the ceiling and appearing deep in thought, she asked, “If you could have one dream come true, what would it be?”
With a grunt, I replied, “Wow, that’s the fucking cheesiest question I’ve ever heard.”
She poked me in the shoulder with the end of the cue stick. “Oh no, you don’t get to judge the question. By the rules of your game, you have to answer it.”
I held up a hand. “Fine, then. I’ll answer your hokey little question.”
“I’m waiting,” she said while tapping the toe of her boots. Damn, if it wasn’t both cute and sexy.
After fighting the urge to growl at her, I decided to answer her honestly. “The one dream I want to come true is to open my own motorcycle shop.”
Samantha blinked at me in surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah, really. What did you expect I would say? That I wanted a threesome with two Playboy models or to have a ten-inch dick?”
“Well, you can’t blame me for being surprised after your initial response to my first question.”
“That’s true.”
“And you mean you don’t have a ten-inch dick?” she questioned teasingly.
I laughed. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
She grinned. “I’ll admit that my curiosity is certainly piqued.”
“Let’s just say the size of my dick will stay a secret for now.”
“Such a pity,” Samantha replied, before winking at me.
Since I knew we needed to get off the subject of my dick, I leaned over the table and positioned my cue. “My turn again.”
“Wait a minute.”