No Strings. Cara Lockwood
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He grinned, showing crooked, yellowed teeth. And, she got the whiff of stale cigarette smoke. Ugh. If the Cardinals jersey wasn’t enough of a deal breaker, this would be. For sure.
“You look just like your picture,” he said, beaming, looking pleased.
That’s because I’m actually in my picture, she wanted to say but didn’t.
“So, I got us a nice hotel room...”
Emma’s jaw dropped. “Here?” she squeaked, glancing at his worn sneakers. How could he afford a room at the Ritz-Carlton?
“Oh, God, no,” he said, shaking his head. “Can’t afford here. There’s a Motel 6, just off the expressway a little ways out of town. If we get in my car now...”
Emma suddenly had visions of duct tape and chloroform. She tried to get Mr. X’s attention, but now he had his eyes on his phone. Argh. She wondered if he was scouting the room for other Nost possibilities.
“Look...you’ve gotten the wrong idea,” she said, trying to be nice but firm. There was no way she was going anywhere with this guy. No way. He needed to leave. She needed to go to Mr. X. That was a Nost date she wouldn’t mind.
But Mr. Happy Fun Time stood, and reached out to grasp her elbow. She tugged her arm away, just out of his reach. No way was he touching her.
“What’s the problem, baby?” He moved closer to her and the acrid scent of burnt tobacco got stronger.
She actually leaned back away from him, fighting the urge to flat-out flee.
“Look, you seem nice, but I don’t think there’s a connection. I think...” You are totally disgusting and you put up a bogus picture and there’s no way I’m going to spend five minutes with you, much less an evening.
Happy Fun Time frowned. “You said you wanted to meet.” He acted as if that entitled him to see her naked.
“Yes, but...”
“So, what’s your problem? You a tease?” His voice had an edge to it now, and suddenly she realized that he was much bigger and heavier than her. If he wanted, he could sling her over his shoulder and carry her out of here. Emma felt a tingle of dread in the pit of her stomach, that little instinct that told her Careful. Something’s off here.
Emma glanced at the bartender, but he was at the other end getting drinks. The other patrons were busy with their own conversations. All except Mr. X, who studied her. Thank God. He was tuned into the situation once more. Would he do something? She met his gaze. He quirked an eyebrow, and she only thought one word: help.
At least someone might notice if this guy dragged her out by her hair.
Emma tried to flash Happy Fun Time a conciliatory smile. “I’m sorry,” she said, though she wasn’t the least bit sorry. “But, I just don’t think there’s a spark between us. It’s just...uh, not going to work.”
His frown deepened, and he stood there, seething, looming over her.
“Bitch.” The word came out hard and cold and so low she almost wasn’t sure if she heard it.
“I’m sorry?” Emma blinked fast. She wasn’t used to open hostility.
“You heard me.” The look in his eyes was flat, cold, devoid of all emotion. Now she knew something was really off. Danger, her instincts screamed. This man was dangerous. Still, she wasn’t going to back down. And, had he called her a bitch? For what, for saying no?
Now anger flared in her chest. She slid off her bar stool and faced him.
“You need to go. Now.” She might be half his size, but she wasn’t about to let this guy push her around. No means no, and right now, she was saying hell, no.
He blinked at her, rage building in his cold blue eyes. Was he going to do something? Her heart thudded in her chest. What would she do if he did?
The whole bar seemed to go quiet, even though nobody else moved a finger to do anything. Emma felt suddenly that this man intended to hurt her, and he didn’t care who was watching.
“I asked you to go,” Emma told the man, voice lower this time, but still firm. Be calm. Be firm. Don’t let him know he’s scaring the hell out of you.
That’s when the furious man before her grabbed her arm, hard. “I don’t think so.” He squeezed and she let out an unintended cry. Panic gripped her as she felt the darkness in him; her instincts were right. This man wanted to hurt her. She tried to wiggle out of his grasp.
“Let the lady go.” Mr. X stood behind the man, his voice low but clear.
THE MAN WHIRLED, off guard. Her savior was about five full inches taller and far more in shape. The two men might weigh the same, but Happy Fun Time’s weight came in fat, while Mr. X was pure working muscle. He could wipe the floor with him, and both men knew it. The now angry Happy Fun Time frowned, but backed up a step, releasing Emma’s arm.
“We were just talking,” he said, defensive.
“Didn’t look like a very nice talk to me.” Mr. X was all business, eyes serious, shoulders tense. Emma wouldn’t want to be on the other end of that angry gaze. She glanced from one man to the other, her heart still thudding hard in her chest, her mind going a million miles a minute.
“You’re not worth the trouble,” her assailant said, and glared at her, eyes full of menace as he turned and walked quickly out of the lounge and past the lobby. Emma watched him go, feeling a sudden whoosh of relief as she exhaled the tension she’d been holding. That was so close.
“Wow...uh, thank you,” she managed to say, grateful now for the backup. Her savior studied her with hazel eyes flecked with gold.
“You okay?” He reached out and touched her elbow, ever so softly. Emma rubbed her arms self-consciously. “I’m sorry I didn’t come over sooner... I thought...well, I thought maybe you’d planned the date.”
She sighed, still feeling her hands tremble with adrenaline and fear. “I had, but that’s the last time I ever make a date with someone from Nost.”
Her rescuer cocked an eyebrow. “He’s on Nost? What’s his name?”
“Happy Fun Time.”
Mr. X frowned. “Not so happy or fun.”
“Agreed,” she said. “Ugh. Why did I even try this? I knew it was a mistake.” She sank her head in her hands.
“We’re not all bad on Nost...Miss Kitten.” Mr. X grinned. “Come on, let me make up for that asshole. At least let me buy you a drink.”
Emma felt shaken, and a drink was desperately what she needed. A drink, and a bit of time to stare at those golden eyes a bit longer. “Sure,” she said, though her body felt wired—nerves, fear, all the fight or flight chemicals buzzing through her veins. Her heart still thumped in her ears and she felt shaky, but she gestured to the empty bar stool. Having his big body next to hers felt good right about now.
He slid onto the bar stool next to hers and she felt his presence, broad, next to her. The two buttons undone at his neck revealed smooth, bare skin. She was so thankful for him at that moment, she wanted to throw her arms around his neck and squeeze.
“What can I get you?” he asked her, and she felt the gravelly baritone in her stomach.
She felt the heat in her face intensify as her thoughts instantly went to naughty places. What can’t he get me?
“Hendrick’s and tonic,” she managed to answer, suddenly feeling shy. What was wrong with her? She’d