Julia groaned.
“Don’t worry, I stuck up for Claire.” Paul slotted the car into a space on the street and turned to her. “You’ve had a hard day, sweetheart. Are you sure you don’t want to go back to the inn and rest?”
“Not a chance. Distract me.”
“You got it.”
Julia looked out her window to discover they were parked in front of the Black Bear. She was little disappointed since he’d promised her an adventure.
Her door opened, and Paul pulled her up from the car’s low seat. Slinging his arm around her shoulders, he guided her through the Bear’s front door, past the sparse Wednesday night crowd, to a closed door off the side of the main seating area. He reached forward and threw open the door with a flourish.
The room was small and empty except for a foosball table positioned in the center and a couple of chairs set around a small round table in the far corner.
“I’m going to teach you to play my favorite game,” Paul said.
Excitement raced through Julia. She wanted to be able to share this with him. She walked to the table and put her hands on two of the rods. “Show me what to do.”
For the next hour and a half, he had her practice rod technique, execute carom shots, dance the ball from man to man, and explicate strategy. All the while awareness simmered between them as he stood behind her, his hands over hers on the grips, demonstrating a play. Or he faced her across the table, his hands flashing from grip to grip, his face lit with passion for the game he loved.
As he complimented her on a tricky bank shot, certainty flooded through her like molten steel.
There was no way on earth she was ever leaving this man.
Chapter 28
I NEED A beer,” Paul said, sending two rods into a blurring spin before he stepped away from the table.
Julia swiped the back of her wrist across her forehead. “This is hard work.”
“You’re a natural. Must be your visual ability. You understand angles better than a lot of experienced players. And you’ve got strong hands.”
“Years of holding palettes and paintbrushes.” Julia braced her hands on the edge of the table and leaned on them. “You’re a tough teacher.”
“I want to make sure you’ve got a firm grasp of the basics.” He opened the door and held up two fingers to someone she couldn’t see. “That way you won’t get into bad habits when I’m not around.”
Julia understood. This was a gift he wanted to give her before she went off to the glitter of international fame.
“You got quiet all of a sudden.” He came up behind her and wound his arms around her waist, nuzzling his lips against the side of her neck.
“My electrolytes are depleted. I need that beer.” His breath blew warm against her skin, sending wavelets of pleasure cascading down her spine. She crossed her arms over his, wanting to stay wrapped in him like this forever.
“I’d say get a room, but you have one.” The waitress gave Julia a wink as she bustled over to the round table and set down two mugs and two bottles. “Lock the door behind me, will ya? The Black Bear is a family bar.” She chuckled as she pulled the door closed.
Paul slid one arm out from under Julia’s and pulled her toward the table. “Let’s get you some electrolytes, otherwise known as Sam Adams.”
Julia let him settle her and himself in the chairs. She grabbed the bottle before he could pour it into a mug and tilted it back for a long, hard swallow of beer, like the cowboys in movies before they slammed through the saloon doors to shoot it out in the street.
She put her bottle down on the table with a thunk. “I’m not leaving.”
He’d been lounging back, his chair balanced on two legs, watching her with an admiring gleam in his eyes. Now his chair’s front legs banged onto the floor. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Sometimes you’re such a lawyer,” she said. “I mean I want to stay here with you.”
“We’ve had this conversation already.” His fingertips beat against the table.
“No, we had a different one. Because I didn’t tell you the truth.”
His fingers stilled.
She rotated her beer bottle in her hands, not sure if she should look him in the eye or if it would be better not to see his reaction. She lifted her eyes to his. She could read nothing; his mask was in place. She summoned up the courage to keep watching him. “I love you. Not because you give me great orgasms, but because of who you are. If you make me leave, I’ll be miserable, no matter what city you think I should drag myself off to in the name of my career.”
He surged out of his chair and walked over to the foosball table, smacking the goalie rod so it bounced across the playing surface. “How do I spell this out for you? I don’t want you here.”