“You think her mom is going to come back?” Jerico asks, stilling his utensils to look at me.
I stop cutting my steak. “I know this sounds awful, but at this point… I hope not. She’s so inconsistent and unpredictable. I don’t think Corinne can handle her coming back and going away again. My mom and I are giving her a stable home. With her illness and recovery, that’s the most important thing.”
“And pancakes,” Jerico adds with a smile as he goes back to his meal.
“God, she loves pancakes,” I say with a laugh and slice off a small piece of steak. “She’d eat them every meal, every day.”
Jerico nods, chewing on a piece of steak. I take the opportunity to do the same and almost moan in pleasure over how tender it is. I can’t afford steak at all, much less steak like this.
“What’s the one thing you would eat every day for every meal if you could?” Jerico asks, and I’m not at all surprised by what seems like an inane question, but really… we ask each other this kind of stuff all the time.
“This steak,” I say as I cut into another piece. That gets me a grin from Jerico. “But seriously… I think gummy bears. I’m addicted to them.”
Jerico grimaces, and I may have ruined his delicious dinner. I eat another piece of steak and make a move on my lobster tail as I ask, “What about you? What would be your one thing?”
“Easy question,” he says with the same confidence and authority by which he commands me when we’re naked. “Red velvet cake.
It’s odd we’re eating the finest meal I’ve ever had and yet we’re talking about pancakes and red velvet cake, both of which are like little luxuries to me since I try to watch carbs and sweets. It’s why I make a stab at some asparagus and ignore the baked potato.
Our conversation continues, light and steady, not too personal but not inconsequential either like talking about the weather. As the meal winds down, an orchestra starts playing music. By the time the desserts are cleared—and okay, I tried some of the chocolate mousse—people were hitting the dance floor or roaming around the auction tables again.
Jerico jumps in on a conversation beside him, but when they start talking about golf, I tune them out. Instead, I turn slightly in my chair and watch the dancers, marveling at the gorgeous designer gowns and jewelry of the other women. No doubt, I’m not wearing as much in jewels or clothing, but as I look around at the men in the room, there’s a little bit of pride within me knowing I’m here with the hottest man. I’ve seen several women appraising him openly, and I wonder if any of them have been with him at the club.
A warm hand squeezes my shoulder, and Jerico leans toward me. “Want to dance?”
“You dance?” I ask with slight disbelief. I mean, this guy rescues kidnap victims and blows up shit. Oh, and he has kinky sex. I didn’t peg him as a ballroom dancer.
“I can get by,” he says with a smirk as he stands from his chair and holds his hand out to me.
When I take it, he pulls me up and immediately into him so our bodies are touching. “Well, I haven’t been to a formal dance since prom in high school, although I’m sure I could probably still pull off the Macarena.”
Jerico laughs and leans down for a spontaneous and affectionate kiss that’s over before it begins, and then he’s tugging me toward the gleaming parquet floor. I hope I can manage to handle it in my high heels.
When he reaches the center, Jerico pulls me into his arms with such smoothness it seems as if no effort was expended on his part. He leads and I follow. It turns out that I can apparently dance, even though I’ll give the credit to him.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asks as he looks down at me. It’s almost a magical moment as his hand splays across my lower back, his thumb rubbing my skin. His other hand clasps mine and he holds me intimately close. I feel like a princess.
“Very much,” I admit to him. “Thank you for bringing me.”
“Thank you for coming,” he says back politely, but his voice is a low rumble that sounds sexy as hell and makes me want to pull him into the bathroom and take advantage of him.
I try to make sure our relationship stays where he wants it to so I can’t get any expectations that would later be dashed, reminding myself I am his employee first and foremost. “It was a pleasurable part of my job to accompany you.”
Jerico stares at me a moment, his expression flummoxed. But then he grumbles, “You and I both know damn well it’s not part of your job. It’s a fucking date.”
I’m completely shocked by his renunciation, which is hilarious. I laugh playfully as I look up at him. “Well, try not to sound so put out by it.”
He growls what might be a string of curses, but they’re cut off as his mouth connects with mine. It’s a hot kiss but not erotic. One of those where his open mouth moves slowly over mine, yet only our lips touch. It’s sweet and intimate and… caring?
When he pulls back, he looks a little off-kilter as if he can’t believe he just did that. I’ve always known Jerico is the type of man who doesn’t commit for the long term, and he looks almost spooked right now.
I immediately start back up conversation. “Okay, don’t you think it’s about time given all the dirty, filthy things I’ve let you do to me that you tell me a little something about your background? Like what were you like growing up and did you have a dog? Oh, and how did you come to live in Las Vegas?”
I hold my breath, wondering if Jerico will shut down on me. Instead, he gives me a smile that’s filled with fondness for his past. “You know I’m from New Hampshire already and I don’t have a big family, but I was extremely close to my mom and dad. My dad was a carpenter and my mom ran a home business making and selling soaps.”
I smile because of the tone of affection in his voice for his parents.
“After I got out of the military and decided to start my own private contracting company, I looked at a lot of places to put down the company’s roots. I considered places like D.C. or New York City, but ultimately decided on Vegas because there’s a lot of private wealth here and need for security services. And for the government stuff, we don’t need to be in Washington to communicate with them. In fact, they come here to us if they have a mission they want us to bid on.”
“Do you miss New Hampshire?” I ask him.
“Yeah… I miss the snow and how gorgeous it is in the fall. I go back once in a blue moon on vacation, but it’s hard to take time off. And with my parents gone, it’s not the same.”
“I bet,” I say softly as I slide my hand from his shoulder to his neck. I stroke my thumb there in commiseration.
“What about you?” he asks, and this surprises me. While I’m all kinds of nosy because I happen to just like Jerico on a personal basis, I always sort of felt he didn’t need to know anything about me. “You’ve told me about Corinne, and your mom seems nice, but what was it like growing up here?”
“Well, Vegas is my hometown, although the Vegas I live in isn’t the glitzy strip. I don’t go there very often.”