The Trouble With Tomboys(9)

“Look, we only came here to eat, lady. Our

money’d be just as green if we were naked, so why don’t you just shove it up your lily white—”

“It’s fine,” Grady said quietly to the hostess, reaching for B.J.’s arm to draw her away.

She jerked her elbow out of his reach. “No, it’s not fine,” she growled, glaring at the hostess. “If you want to pick on somebody’s clothes, why don’t you go after me, sister? I’m not—”

“B.J.,” Grady said sharply.

His tone surprised her. She lifted her face to catch his hard expression.

“We’re leaving.”

“But I’m freaking starving.”

“This isn’t the only restaurant in the city,” he grit out, taking her arm before she could evade him again.

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The Trouble with Tomboys



Keeping close to her as if he didn’t trust her to obey, he ushered her toward the exit, not once letting go of her until they were outside.

A wave of memories assailed her as her nostrils filled with his scent. He smelled exactly as she remembered. It was so startling, she didn’t even think to resist as he pulled her along. She’d forgotten she’d ever been close enough to him to smell his scent before, but as she breathed in the fragrance, she suddenly recalled the days when Amy used to babysit her and Rudy, and a teenage Grady would unexpectedly show up at their door.

As the nostalgia hit, she remembered distinctly what it’d been like to form her first crush on the seventeen-year-old football captain. She recalled the sharp feeling of excitement she’d experienced, spying on Grady when he didn’t know she was watching, and how she’d lie awake at nights, hugging her pillow, imagining it was him.

The adult version of him didn’t hit upon those little girl fantasies of wanting to hold his hand or primly lay her head on his shoulder. No, now she wanted more...she wanted a long, hot, hard roll in the sack, and she wanted it bad.

Hoping to escape his enticing presence, B.J. took a step away as soon as they were outside. But even from five feet, she still felt the pull. Sucking in a deep breath, she looked up into the sky. Though it was night, the city was full of light.

Momentarily forgetting her agenda, B.J. paused to take in all the action around her.

“God, I wish I was home,” she murmured,

thinking she should’ve just let him hide in his room.

Or better yet, she should’ve stayed in her own and ordered room service. “At least it’s actually dark at night there, and you can see the stars.”

Grady paid her no attention. “There’s a

restaurant,” he said, pointing across the street.

25







“Oh, good,” B.J. said, following him as he made his way toward a crosswalk. “I hope they have a dress code too. Maybe I can break a Guinness record and get us thrown out of the most eateries in one night.”

He arched her a warning look that ordered her not to cause trouble.

Yeah, she remembered that about him too. He

was a rule follower. He didn’t break protocol, and he didn’t engage in scandalous, spur-of-the moment actions.

Prepared to insult his moral sensibilities, B.J.

was a little surprised when the next hostess merely smiled at their approach. Damn, there went her opportunity to cause another ruckus.

“Is it just the two of you tonight?” the perky woman asked, already grabbing a pair of menus.

Grady nodded and moved aside to let B.J.

precede him. It felt funny, being the recipient of his chivalry. He’d opened two doors for her already, and now he was letting the lady go first. It was disconcerting and boldly reminded her how male he was. When they were seated near a dance floor, B.J.

rolled her eyes and plopped down in her seat before he could do something really crazy, like hold out her chair for her.

“Jesus, I hate dancing,” she muttered and

watched the couples on the floor swinging and swaying about, though she had to admit, dancing with Grady Rawlings would be an experience. She could already imagine herself in his arms, pressed against him, showing him just how much of a

woman she was under all that tomboy.

She caught him looking at her oddly and

frowned. “What?”

“Is there anything you do like?” he said.

“Yeah,” she grumbled. “I like medium rare

26



The Trouble with Tomboys



steak, ice cold beer straight from the bottle, and a heaping pile of onion rings.”

That was exactly what she requested too when a waitress approached seconds later. After putting in her order, she glanced toward Grady. “You want something to drink, Slim? I’ll pay since I dragged you out here.”

He shook his head and glanced at the waitress.