Flint Page 2

  Thelma offers to bring us a giant slice of chocolate lava cake to share, Amber’s the first one to shake her head. “I’m stuffed!” she proclaims. “But I’ll take a raincheck. It’s not every day you’ll hear me turn down dessert. The food was absolutely wonderful!”

  “Raincheck it is.” Thelma leaves us with another wink to finish our beers.

  I have to admit, I’m not ready for this night to end. Sure, I’ve thought about taking Amber home about every thirty-two seconds since we sat down at this table. I’ve even thought about getting her to the parking lot so I can give her the kiss I’ve been yearning to for hours now. But I don’t trust my hands to behave themselves.

  She means more to me than all that. Amber feels … important. Though the partnership would never work out based on decisions my brothers and I made when we established our company, I feel like Amber will be in my life for a long time to come.

  “You any good at darts?”

  She shakes her head. “Nope.”

  “Good, me either.” I push up out of my chair and extend my hand. “There’s a board in the corner. Let’s go play a couple rounds.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “If we’re both terrible, what do you have to lose?”

  She stares at my hand a long time before she finally takes it. My skins zings to life at her delicate touch. The urge to caress every inch of her soft body overwhelms me. It’s all I can do to remember the invitation I extended.

  “What are we playing?” she asks once we reach the corner.

  My brother Levi loves darts. What little I know, I learned from him forcing me to play. But truth be told, I didn’t retain much. I pull the darts from the board and hand her three. “How about a game called Hit the Target.”

  Amber raises an eyebrow at me that is so fucking adorable I almost scoop her into my arms and kiss her. “What’s that?’

  “We each throw a dart.” I’m making the rules up as I go, but she doesn’t seem to mind. “Whoever scores higher wins that round.”

  “Wins what?”

  “A question.”

  She raises that eyebrow again and dammit if I don’t take a step toward her. I have to stop myself from pulling her into my arms and kissing her until we both can’t breathe.

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Whoever scores better gets to ask the other person a question they must answer honestly. No question is off limits.” It’s a gamble, but I need to get that confession out of her sooner rather than later. I have to know if Amber Benson is really interested in me or if this is all for some business arrangement.

  “I’ll go first,” she says with a flirty wink.

  3

  AMBER

  This game is a dangerous one to play, but I’m helpless to resist. I aim my first dart at the board and pray it sticks. I pull my arm back and launch it like a missile. It sticks all right, but to the wall.

  “Glad to know you weren’t lying,” Flint says with that damn sexy chuckle.

  “It’s true. I’m pretty terrible,” I admit. “I’m just hoping not to injure anyone—myself included—before the game is over.”

  He aims a dart and throws, hitting the very outer ring of the number one slot. I don’t know darts at all, but I imagine it’s hard to score too much lower than that. If I’d simply hit the board, I would’ve won the round.

  “Looks like I get to ask the first question.” The way Flint says those words … it’s like a seduction is taking place. The people around us start to evaporate one by one.

  “Wh—what’s your question?” Dammit, my voice is wobbly again. I can’t hear much above the pounding of my heart in my ears.

  He takes a stride toward me, leaning near my ear. “When’s the last time a man kissed you? Really kissed you? Made your toes curl kissed you?”

  I gulp a swallow. I’m not offended by the question, just caught off guard. Flint’s scent—some faint trace of woodsy cologne mixed with all man—isn’t helping either. He’s been looking at my lips all night. I know he’s thought about kissing me. Maybe as much as I’ve thought about kissing him. But my answer to his question leaves me a tad mortified. “Can I have a different one?” I beg.

  “Nope. You know the rules.”

  I let out an exaggerated sigh to proclaim my annoyance at having to answer a painfully embarrassing question. “Never.”

  “Never?”

  “The last time a man kissed me at all was over a year ago. But I’ve never experienced the kind of kiss you’re talking about.” Though the fairytale lover inside me wants to believe that such kisses exist, life experience has left me very doubtful.

  “What a shame,” Flint says.

  “You’ve had one of those kisses I take it?”

  Flint flashes me a mischievous smirk and hands me a dart. “Guess if you want to find out, you’ll have to beat me.”

  Though my hands are shaky, I take a couple deep breaths to steady my aim. I launch the dart and squeal with excitement when it hits inside the fifteen spot. “That’s good, right?”

  “Not bad.” Flint takes his place and lobs his dart. It lands on small inner ring of the seven spot. “But not good enough.”

  “What? I’m on the fifteen. How does that not beat seven?”

  “Because that inner ring triples the point value.”

  “You made that up.”

  He holds his hands up in surrender. “I swear that rule is standard. Inner ring is triple. The outer one is double. My brother forced me to memorize that.”

  I feel a bit cheated. But mostly I’m nervous to know what his next question might be. “Fine. Spit it out. What’s your next question?” I sound braver than I feel. At least I have that going for me.

  “Why are you jealous of your sister?”

  His first question has nothing on the punch the second one packs. “I’m happy for Emma. That’s the truth.”

  Flint is standing much too close to me. Our arms touch, making it harder for me to concentrate. “Be that as it may, that’s not the answer to the question I asked.”

  “Damn, you’re good.” I twirl my last dart between my fingers wondering if I’ll even get a question of my own. It’s not fair that I’m the only one who feels so damn vulnerable. “I’m happy for Emma. She deserves someone who loves her as much as Easton does. I’m only jealous because I want that too.”

  “You want to get married?” he presses.

  It’s my turn to flash Flint a smug smirk. “Guess you’ll have to win another round to know the answer to that.”

  “Touché.”

  I suck in a deep breath and focus on the dartboard. What I’d give to hit the bullseye. At the very least, it’d save me from answering another exposing question. I close my eyes, open them slowly, then aim and release.

  My dart smacks the bullseyes. Then bounces off the board and lands on the floor. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” I swear this board must be rigged for my personal undoing. I don’t know if I can handle whatever deep question might come next.

  Flint tosses a dart without looking. It sticks in the ten spot. Of course he wins again. The silver lining is we’ve used up all the darts.

  I’m not sure how it happens, but Flint pins me with his intense eyes until I’m backed up against a wall. He presses one hand against the wooden planks beside my head. The gap between us barely exists, and it’s filled with heat. If he leaned down …

  “Did you come out with me tonight to pitch your partnership bit in person?”

  Busted.

  FLINT

  I’ve been saving this question for last, gambling on winning that last round. I didn’t lie about being terrible at darts. But thanks to Levi, I know I can hit the board. His harassment paid off tonight.

  “I—I—”

  “Amber, it’s a simple yes or no question.” Fuck me, I almost want to kiss her more than I want that answer. But I have to know the truth. If she’s only flirting with me to achieve some goal of hers, I have to walk away before I get
any more attached.

  Already, severing this invisible connection between us seems like it’d be incredibly hard. But if I wait much longer, it’ll be nearly impossible.

  “It’s not an easy answer.”

  I fight the urge to interrupt and instead push off the wall to give her the space we both need. The rapid rising and falling of her bountiful chest tells me I’m not the only one feeling the pull. But am I the only one feeling more than lust? “Go on.”

  “I knew who you were when you showed up with Easton. But until we were alone, the thought of talking to you about my proposition didn’t cross my mind. I saw the opportunity—”

  “I’m an opportunity to you then.” I feel like a complete ass, but I have to hold my ground while I still have a sliver of land under my feet.

  The genuine hurt that fills her eyes nearly breaks me in two. She has more to say, and I’m trying like hell to let her say it. Slowly, I nod.

  She lets out a slow breath, obviously fighting for composure. “What I’m feeling for you isn’t about opportunity, Flint.”

  “Really?”

  “I want to talk to you about my partnership proposal because I think we can both benefit. It would mean a lot to me if you’ll just give a chance to speak my mind.” She locks her gaze with mine. “But what I’m feeling between us … that’s something else entirely.”

  “Lust?”

  “Maybe.” She offers a shrug. “Maybe more.”

  Unable to resist the urge I’ve fought all night, I close the gap between us in two strides. I pin Amber to the wall and devour her mouth with my own. The kiss is everything I expect it to be—hungry, passionate, explosive. It’s all that and so much more.

  Our fused lips and tangled tongues hint at a future; a myriad of possibilities stretched out before us.

  It’s Amber’s soft moan that reminds me we’re in public. It takes every ounce of restraint for me to pull myself away. “Why don’t we take this outside?”

  Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes dark with want, and her nipples are pebbling beneath her shirt. “Outside,” she agrees in a pant.

  I take her hand, leading her toward the back door. Thelma will probably give me an earful later for not saying goodbye. But right now, all I can think about is getting Amber somewhere more private.

  Everything in me yearns to invite her home with me tonight. There’s nothing I want more than to slowly strip her down and memorize every inch of her amazing body before I bury myself inside her. Claiming her as my one and only.

  4

  AMBER

  My body trembles with anticipation as I let Flint lead me out to his truck. That kiss … it was everything his earlier question promised it would be. Everything I no longer believed was possible. My brain is so scrambled and my finger tips are tingly.

  Kisses like that mean something. Right?

  At his truck, Flint turns to face me. Those intense eyes pin me again in midair this time. I feel connected to him in a way that doesn’t make any sense. I feel as if he can sense all my greatest fears and joys, just with a simple look. “If you want me to take you home, I will Amber.”

  The elevated high I was on from that kiss drops out beneath me. What am I supposed to say to that? I clear my throat and muster up some courage. “What’s the alternative?”

  His gaze slowly sweeps my body up and down. “I think you know.”

  I shouldn’t give in. Not until after we’ve discussed my partnership proposition. If I let things go too far before that conversation, I risk messing up not just one great thing, but two. My next words are my hardest, but I force them out anyway. “I think we should wait.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  Flint opens my door, but he doesn’t offer me a hand into his truck. It’s for the best, I tell myself a thousand times over. A simple graze of our skin could result in both of us naked in the backseat in a blink of an eye. The chemistry is that potent between us.

  On the drive, I force myself to find the courage to set up a meeting. A business meeting. “Would you be willing to meet me for lunch sometime this week?” I ask. “I promise if you let me give you my spiel once, I won’t keep pestering you.”

  “Why don’t you tell me now?” he suggests.

  I turn to hide the disappointment that surely paints itself on my face. A lunch at least meant I’d see him once more. “I guess I could do that.” I have graphs and statistics in my car, which is still sitting in Emma’s driveway. But somehow, I doubt Flint will want to look at them tonight.

  “Sell me, Amber Benson. Why should Ryan Brothers Renovations partnership with your real estate company?”

  “Not just my company. Me.” I launch into the pitch I’ve rehearsed more times than anyone would ever believe. I memorized every word on the chance that Flint might answer his phone just once, even on accident. I wanted to be ready.

  It takes seconds for my nerves to settle and my enthusiasm to surface. I’m passionate about beating Dennis Black, but I’m also passionate about achieving the number one spot to prove to myself that I’m capable of being the best if I work hard. Most importantly, I work ethically. Morals are not something Dennis is accused of having.

  “So you’re saying we should partner with you because you can sell our homes faster and for more money than we can accomplish on our own?” Flint says as he turns onto Emma’s street.

  I swallow my panic that my time is running out and stay focused on my objective. “Yes. I may specialize in listing the houses, but I have a team of agents who have prequalified buyers waiting for their dream home to hit the market. It’s possible I might have the right buyer for your homes before they officially hit the market.” I continue, pitching my idea to stage the homes with furniture and light decorations—homes they have always left empty.

  Flint shifts the truck into park along the curb. We both look toward the house and its dark windows. “Guess I’ll be leaving my brother here tonight.”

  I long to change my mind. To invite Flint to my house so we can not sleep in my bed all night. But if I do, he’ll never be certain if I slept with him to win his business or because I really like him. “I have a folder in my car,” I say to Flint. “Will you please take it? At least show it to your brothers? I won’t ask more than that.”

  He nods.

  Flint follows me to the car, waiting as I fish the folder out of the front seat. I take my time, hating how quickly our night is coming to an end. It feels wrong, but I know it’s how it has to be.

  “Here.” I hand him the folder, unable to keep my damn gaze from those capable fingers. Someday soon, I hope to feel them tracing my bare skin. “Thank you, Flint.”

  He takes the folder, never breaking eye contact. I’m trapped by that heated gaze—the one that promises I’m not the only one disappointed tonight. “I can’t promise you anything, Amber. I need to be very clear about that.”

  “I know.”

  He props an arm on my car, leaning so close to me my body explodes with sensation. I fist my hands at my sides to keep them from reaching for his neck. Or worse—the top button of his jeans. “Amber …” The sounds of that deep voice saying my name, even in the abbreviated thought, causes a shiver throughout my entire body.

  “Thank you for tonight. I had fun. Even if you annihilated me in darts.”

  I expect him to leave me panting and disappointed against my car, but instead Flint leans the rest of the way in and places a sensual kiss on my lips. Though the physicality of it is much different from the kiss inside the bar, it holds all the same intensity and promise.

  I rock my hips forward into him, looping an arm around his neck in the process. Parting my lips, I invite his tongue in for a slow dance. Bodies molded together, the kiss deepens. My panties are soaked just at the feeling of him this close. If we ever get the chance to get naked together, I might spontaneously combust.

  His strong, capable hands slide down my back and over my arms. I yearn for them to touch more of me. I press my breasts into h
is chest, hoping he’ll recognize the invitation. I don’t care who might be watching. Besides, the neighborhood is mostly dark, and the placement of the streetlights leave us mostly in the shadows.

  Desperate to feel his touch, I take Flint’s hands and place them on my breasts. He groans against my mouth. “Amber, you’re going to kill me.”

  “I hope not,” I tease.

  Flint kneads my breasts for all of twenty wonderful seconds before he steps back, breaking all aspects of physical contact. I feel immediately emptier without him so close. “I’ll call you,” he says.

  I raise a skeptical eyebrow at that.

  “I have your number, Amber. You’ve left me at least twenty messages.”

  “Right.” It still sucks, letting him go when I want him so badly.

  FLINT

  I let two days pass before I decide to bring up Amber’s proposal to my brothers. It probably still isn’t long enough to determine if her memory is clouding my judgement or not. I’ve thought about her every second of my waking hours, and dreamt about her nonstop every night. Without so much as a text exchanged between us since I left her panting in that driveway, I still feel like she’s already an interwoven part of my life.

  I set cartons of various flavored barbeque wings on the rickety table left behind by the last owners of our current flipper project, hoping Thelma’s magic touch will help soften my brothers to this radical idea.

  When we established Ryan Brothers Renovations, one of the first things we came to an agreement on was that we would not let a realtor list our houses or help us acquire properties. I have some brief real estate experience a decade old. The knowledge has served me well, and over time, I’ve learned to fill in the gaps with hands-on learning.

  I can’t deny that if any other realtor had approached me with this same proposition, I’d have turned it down flat.

  But something about Amber Benson is changing my perspective. I’ve combed over her charts and graphs multiple times. She makes some very strong arguments for an alliance. I just don’t know if my brothers will see the same opportunity I do.