All or Nothing (5 page)

Oh, she was definitely interested, and she knew he knew she was interested, too. Honestly, she was glad he left the ball in her court. Of course, she really didn’t expect any different from him.

As cocky and self-assured as he was, he wasn’t pushy either. Matter of fact, he had left her hanging just enough for her to start looking forward to seeing him. Leaving things up in the air and unexpected. She was finding she enjoyed the anticipation of it all.

She was ready though. Ready to move forward, to move past the little banter at work and see where it took them. She hadn’t been about to respond to him right then, though. Too eager, no way, not her.

But she wasn’t going to wait until the end of the day. That would be playing head games, and that wasn’t her either. Flirting and bantering, building suspense, sure that was fun. Playing head games and leading someone on—no, not her at all.

Hours later, she dashed down the hall out of eyeshot, pulled out her phone and sent a quick text.

***

Ben’s phone vibrated on his desk. He glanced over and saw Presley’s name and grinned.
Let’s start neutral,
he read.

Perfect. He looked at the clock and saw that it was after seven. He’d lost track of time again, getting engrossed in the end-of-the-day paperwork. He debated on running up during her break but didn’t want to seem overly eager.
I’ll pick you up at your place tomorrow at 5:30.

Sounds good. Don’t work too late.

He laughed. She obviously knew he was still in the building. Or maybe she only guessed. Either way, now he was trying to decide if he should stop up there to see her or not. He had never been indecisive before—why now?

Rather than respond, he went back to work. When he was done with the dreaded paperwork would be soon enough to decide on whether to see her or not.

An hour later during his end-of-day rounds, he found himself walking toward the Pediatric Ward. He didn’t even bother to fight it at that point. It didn’t mean he would see her. He had walked through plenty enough times in the last two weeks and hadn’t seen her, even when she’d been on shift.

He walked the long corridor, flashing his ID to enter. Waving to the nurses at the station, he walked past the common rooms, saw the lights out and assumed the kids were all back in their rooms. He detoured back to Tiffany’s room and popped his head in. She was watching TV, her color looking much better than it had the last time he saw her.

She smiled nervously at him, a pretty pink flush creeping up her neck, her shaved head not detracting from her youthfulness. Nor the swelling from where the tumor was removed, now covered partially by a bandage.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

She looked surprised but answered shyly, “Much better, thank you.”

“That’s good. You look happy.”

Her eyes widened. “I do?”

“Well, much happier than the last time I saw you.”

“I guess I am. They removed my tumor,” she told him. “And it wasn’t cancerous.” She smiled brightly.

His face softened. “Then you have every right to be happy. That’s great news. Pretty soon you’ll be out of here and back to school then, right?”

Watching her blink back tears, he tried not to groan. He was a sucker for tears. “Yeah. But I’m afraid to go back,” she whispered, almost embarrassed.

Stepping into the room more, he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “Why?”

She lifted her hand and ran it over her scalp, a tear escaping down her face. “My hair is gone. Everyone will stare at me.”

“Let them stare. Just remember one thing, not too many people are as strong or as brave as you. Not many people could have handled what you just did. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you to grow your hair back. What are a few months? Besides”—he lifted his hand and ran it over his own shaved sides, his hair just a bit longer on the top—“I happen to like the style.”

Tiffany flushed and then giggled. He nodded his head. “Have a good night.” Then he turned to leave and saw Presley standing a few feet away, having heard the entire conversation.

He walked out of the room with Presley falling in step next to him. “That was really sweet of you.”

“I’ve been known to be sweet a time or two,” he said.

“I have a confession to make.”

He stopped, forcing her to do the same, then looked at her. “What’s that?”

“I’ve always been a sucker for the dangerous, confident type.” He raised his eyebrow, and she continued. “Now I have to say I’m a sucker for the dangerous, confident, softie type.”

He was right. She was up front and to the point. And he loved every minute of it. “I’ve always been a sucker for a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to go for it.”

“Then I guess we’re both suckers right now, aren’t we?” she said, chuckling.

“I guess so,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, Presley.”

Afraid of being late, Ben left work an hour before he was supposed to pick up Presley. Showered and shaved, he stood in his closet wearing only a pair of dark blue jeans and a T-shirt while he looked for a button-down shirt. That was about as dressed up as he planned on getting.

He grabbed one at random, put it on and had to pull tighter than normal over his arms and shoulders. “Crap.” He yanked it off, balled it up and tossed it in the corner of the closet.

Grabbing another one, he found the same problem, swore again, and tossed it next to the first.

He was able to get the third shirt on just fine, only he couldn’t button it up without it stretching too much around his back, making him feel like he was in a straitjacket.

“Just great,” he mumbled to himself. He was down to three shirts, so he held his breath, grabbed another one, and luckily enough it fit. Alec was right, he had put on more muscle than he realized. Now he had to either go shopping, which he hated more than paperwork, or try to slim down. Guess it was time to pick up a treadmill for his home gym.

No way was he working out at a fitness club, not with all the boofheads running around or women preening themselves. He could always use the gym at the hospital, but it all came down to his gun. He never left the house without a gun, and running on a treadmill with one strapped to his ankle wasn’t conducive either.

He looked around the closet, found his black shoes, slipped them on and then bent over to lace them up. He liked that they were higher on the ankle, more like boots than shoes really. But he was just more used to military-issued boots than what he was currently wearing.

After securing his ankle holster, he hit the wall light, grabbed his keys, and rushed out the door.

Arriving five minutes early, he rang the bell to her apartment door. He appreciated that she didn’t keep him waiting—opened the door within seconds, actually. Not fast enough that she was standing right there, but most likely ready and close by.

She stood back of the open door and let him in. “Come in for a minute. Let me just grab a jacket quick and we can go.”

He watched her walk out of the room, admiring the way the tight jeans molded around her rear end. She was one long, lean woman. She returned, slipping a tan fitted jacket on over a multi-color shirt, then slipped her very pretty long, lean feet in a pair of extremely sexy blue heels. Heels that brought her almost eye level with him. “Shouldn’t they be suede?”

“Excuse me?” she asked, confused.

“Your heels. Shouldn’t they be suede?” he asked, adding a cocky smirk. She still didn’t get it. “Blue suede shoes?”

Light bulb moment. “Cute,” she said, narrowing her eyes, but her smile remained. “You aren’t going to do that all the time, are you?”

“What?” he asked innocently.

“Keep making Elvis references. It’s the second one you’ve made to me.”

He chuckled. He hadn’t planned on it, but now he would have to just to see the fire jump into her eyes like it did now. She was stunning when she was annoyed. “Guess you might have to take that chance.”

***

She was happy with his choice of pubs. Someplace she would have picked out herself if he’d given her the option. She enjoyed dressing up now and again. She knew how she looked and how she could make a man’s head turn. But it was too much work at times. She would much rather throw on a pair of jeans, a nice shirt and some heels or boots.

Thanks to Ben’s rather appraising looks, she knew she chose her clothing wisely tonight. Especially when he asked her if she wanted to play a game of pool after dinner. How could she refuse?

Even better was when he placed his hand on her lower back to guide her to the side. Or when his fingers brushed over hers while handing over the blue chalk.

Best yet was his smile when she purposely bent over, giving him an even better view of the cleavage that she had been teasing from her shirt all night. Yep, he liked the way she looked all right.

Plus, he looked pretty damn nice himself. His black shirt was fitted perfectly to his body, not overly tight, but just… perfect. She would be willing to bet he had one hell of a body underneath.

At work, he normally wore jeans and a work-issued shirt that most of the officers wore, the cut not something that molded to his body. Nothing like the shirt he was wearing right now, she thought appreciatively.

She pulled the stick back, sent it forward with just enough speed to tap the cue ball into the eight ball, right into the corner pocket. “Well, that was fun.”

“I think you might have been a pool shark in a former life.”

“Could be. I’ve been around pool halls most of my life. Guess I’m just better than you,” she said, lifting her lips at the corners a tad. He didn’t need to know she had been in and out of pool halls since she could walk. Her father loved to play, and she’d longed to have something in common with him.

“I’m okay with that. I’ve never been bothered by a woman beating me at something.” He placed his hand on her lower back, moved it slightly in a caress, and guided her toward the door. Holding it open for her, he let her proceed. “Ready to call it a night?”

“We probably should.” She forced her mind to focus after that simple touch of his hand. “Unless you want to come in for coffee and chocolates? I’ve got these really awesome truffles some guy left for me last week at work.”

He raised an eyebrow at her offer, and she felt the need to clarify. “Just coffee and chocolate. That isn’t code for sex.”

“I didn’t think it was. Not that I would say no if it was a code,” he said sporting a devilish grin.

She blushed. She didn’t want to, but she couldn’t help the heat that surged through her body at those words, then flooded her face. It had been way too long since she had been this attracted to someone. Even longer since she’d had sex. She liked sex, always had, but it wasn’t a driving force in her life. She had been known to go months, even a year without sex and was just fine with it.

“Either way, coffee and chocolate sounds good,” he said, trying to make her feel better, she hoped.

Ten minutes later, she was opening her front door and letting him in. She kept her shoes on and walked in. He followed close by. “Why don’t we go into the kitchen? We can sit at the island while I make the coffee. Plus the chocolate is on the counter, too,” she said, turning lights on as she went. Thankfully the chilly fall night had cooled down her overheated skin and she could concentrate again.

When he was seated, she turned on the one-cup coffee maker to heat the water up. “Any particular flavor? I’ve got pumpkin?” she said, turning her head over her shoulder and giving him a coy look.

He chuckled. “That works.” Then he reached over to the bowl she had placed the truffles in and grabbed one at random, opened it and popped it in his mouth. “So, why nursing?”

She stopped and looked at him, startled. “Where did that come from?”

“Just conversation. We’ve talked about quite a few things tonight, mainly work and other interests. Thought I would try for something more personal. After all, you know why I went into the Navy.”

He was right. She did ask him that. It was just that no one ever asked her why she went into nursing before. It wasn’t something she really talked about much. She calmly replied, “Just seemed like a good fit for me.” Thankfully he accepted that answer.

She placed his coffee in front of him. “Sugar or cream?”

“No, black is good. Easier that way.”

“How’s that?” she asked, adding a teaspoon of sugar to her own cup.

“I didn’t always have sugar or cream available in the past, so I learned to drink it black. Flavored coffee is a treat in itself, and I can’t stand to have it sweetened now.”

She never thought of that, but it made sense. And made things simple, too.

“So,” he said after he took a sip of coffee and she was seated next to him at the island, her chair shifted so she could face him. “It’s kind of like riding a bike, isn’t it?”

She frowned. What was he talking about now? “I don’t understand.”

“Dating? You don’t seem to have forgotten how to go about it,” he said amused, then took another sip of the hot liquid, his eyes sparkling over the rim of the cup while he looked at her.

She scowled. “Lucy,” she said, snarling a bit more, then paused and took a sip of her own coffee, trying to stop the mortification from showing on her face.

“Sorry. I meant it as a compliment. You seemed pretty comfortable tonight for someone who hasn’t dated in a while,” he said, adding another grin, obviously finding the situation funnier than she did.

She took a deep breath. “I’m going to strangle her.”

“Well, if it helps you any, there have been plenty of times I’ve gone a year or more without dating, too. And I’ve never forgotten how either,” he said, his smile widening and his eyes crinkling up, the dark brown looking richer than normal.

The room started to heat up again. Forcing those thoughts back, she decided to stir the pot more. “Yeah well, like I said, I’m a sucker for the dangerous confident type. Unfortunately they tend to be jerks, too. So far, you haven’t proven yourself to be a jerk. Yet.” She flashed him a smile and patted his leg in a friendly manner.

“You’re one of a kind, aren’t you?” he said amiably.

“Aren’t you?” she said, challenging him.

“I’d like to think so.” He reached out, grabbed her chair and pulled it closer to him.

“Same here,” she replied, leaning toward him, meeting him halfway, his lips covering hers. Soft, gentle, so unlike what she thought he was actually feeling from the vibes he had been sending out. Everything about him exuded “danger, stand back,” yet he did it with a smile. Such a paradox, but she was starting to enjoy that, too.

The kiss didn’t stay gentle long, though. His hand threaded through her hair, yanking her closer, almost on his lap. Then seconds later, she
was
on his lap, his hand around her waist, his mouth devouring hers. She was going up in flames and could only hold on for the ride. And what a ride it was. Oh my, he could kiss.

Somehow both her hands ended up on his shoulders, gripping him tight. He seemed to take that as encouragement. The hand at her waist traveled up further and caressed the outside of her shirt. In case he got any ideas, she moved her hand and laid it over his. Just a warning—he wasn’t getting any further. Instead he threaded his fingers through hers with his lips moving from her mouth to her ear. “Relax. No pressure. I won’t push.”

His sexy voice sent shivers rushing through her body. She knew he felt them. No sense denying it or hiding it, she was turned on. But she wasn’t ready to go any further than kissing. Turning her head back, she kissed him again, trying not to squirm in his lap, but it was hard.

Minutes later, she pulled back and laid her forehead on his shoulder, her breath was coming in short gasps. “Wow.”

She heard him chuckle. She didn’t think it was humorous and hadn’t realized she even said that out loud.

He shifted her off his lap and helped her to a standing position. “I think it’s time for me to leave.”

Following him to the door, she paused and reached for the handle, only to have him stop her, kiss her senseless once again, then open the door. “Lock up after me. I’ll talk to you soon.”

He shut the door. She locked it after he left and stood there panting. He was definitely dangerous.