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Expecting Thunder's Baby
“Is that a bullet or a drink?”
He chuckled again. “Both. But I was referring to the drink. It’s guaranteed to knock you on your ass.”
So would a .50-caliber bullet, she thought. “Getting me drunk won’t help your cause. I’m sleeping here tonight.” She patted the guest bed. “This is my safety net.”
“Yeah, but for how long?” He moved a little closer, flirting unmercifully.
She flirted, too. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
“You’re driving me crazy, Carrie.”
“That’s the idea.” She unzipped her suitcase. “Is the Crab and Clam casual or dressy?”
“Casual.” He scanned the length of her. “They have a stripper pole in the middle of the bar.”
She sucked in a breath. “Sounds like a classy place.”
“It’s perfect for what I have in mind.” He reached out to touch her cheek, using the tips of his fingers, making her much too warm.
Then he walked out of the room, leaving her alone.
And wondering about the night ahead of them.
Thunder walked beside Carrie, with an ocean breeze stirring the air. The streetlights cast a warm glow, making the reddish strands in her hair more apparent. She’d changed into cropped pants, a lightweight blouse and a pair of tennis shoes. She blended into the scenery, like a girl who lived at the beach. But she didn’t. She was only visiting, becoming part of Thunder’s life for a minimal amount of time.
They reached the restaurant, a rustic establishment with seashells imbedded in the walls. They entered the building and waited to be seated.
“We’d like to eat in the bar,” Thunder told the hostess, who was the owner’s sun-and-surf daughter.
“Sure.” She gave him a familiar smile, recognizing him from the countless times he’d frequented the place. The locals all knew each other.
The hostess smiled at Carrie, too. Thunder had never brought a date to the Crab and Clam. He preferred to keep his favorite haunts to himself.
Until now.
He glanced at his ex-wife, remembering the vow they’d taken. Saying those words out loud had made him feel self-conscious. But he’d been enthralled, too. Fascinated by the girl he’d married.
After they were seated and the beverages they’d ordered were served, the waitress brought them a complementary relish platter.
Carrie scooted in her chair, then shot the stripper pole a wary look. Thunder smiled, enjoying the naughty connotation it provoked.
“No one uses it,” he said. “It’s just part of the decor.”
She reached for a celery stick, dipping it into the spicy dressing. “Then why is this place perfect for what you had in mind?”
“It got you thinking about taking off your clothes, didn’t it?”
“So it did.” She saluted him with the celery, then bit into it. “You certainly know how to make a girl react.”
“Want to give me a teaser?”
“No way,” she said, even though she leaned forward a little, offering him a quick peek down her top.
His zipper went tight. “That’s a good start.”
She sat upright, shooting him an I’m-going-to-win-this-round smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t.” He took a swig of his .50 Caliber, knowing he would be sleeping alone tonight.
Carrie sipped a cherry cola. She’d passed on the beverage that was guaranteed to knock her on her ass.
“What’s in that?” she asked, after he’d downed half the contents.
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