I laugh. “Are you jealous that you aren’t getting my undivided flirting attention now? You’ve made it perfectly clear that you’re not interested. Don’t be a hater now that I’m testing new waters.”

“Please.” She rolls her eyes. “I don’t care what you do.”

She opens her menu upside-down and tries to ignore me, but I’m on to her. I reach across the table and flip it around. “For some who doesn’t care, you’re awfully distracted.”

“Shut up.” I laugh and pick up my menu and try to let it go before I piss her off any further.

This restaurant isn’t fancy by any means—there are peanut shells thrown all over the floor—but it’s nice. It’s very country and reminds me of home.

I didn’t see a lot of choices for places to eat when I drove through Tucson today. This city is so spread out. Not the typical packed city I’m used to, where it takes an hour to get anywhere, but I’m glad I have a local to show me around. It’s been a while since I’ve had an adventure alone.

Holly studies the menu. “This place has the best Bloomin’ Onions. Do you like those?”

I nod. “Sure, I just don’t eat fried stuff often. This body is a temple. I try to keep it in shape.”

She shakes her head. “I’d eat them every day if I could, but I can’t afford to come here. Last time I was here was last fall for my nineteenth birthday when I came home from school.”

“Nineteen? Wow you’re a baby.” And it’s nearly illegal for me to have the dirty thoughts I’ve been having about her.

“Actually, last night was my birthday. That’s why I was at the bar. I’ve officially left my teen years behind.”

“Well, happy belated birthday. I’m glad I could give you a taste of being twenty.” I smile and she scowls at me. “Maybe you should’ve let me give you a real present last night…” She shakes her head at me, but there’s no hiding the blush in her cheeks.

I know deep down she likes it when I talk dirty to her. I can read people.

I need a subject change before I dwell on the things I’d like to do to her any longer. “You go to college?”

“I used to. I gave it up to come home and help Dad at the track. He couldn’t afford to pay his employees anymore.” I notice the frown on her lips, and I don’t like it—a face that pretty should never be sad. I want to immediately fix it.

“Well, maybe when my investor buddy comes through you can go back?”

Her eyes flit to mine. “I would love to. It just sucks all my friends back at school will be ahead of me now.”

“You’re still young. You’ll make new friends.” I point out. “What were you studying?”

“Psychology.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Wow. That’s impressive. You’re smart and hot. That’s a pretty badass combination.”

She giggles. “Thanks. I wish more guys thought that way. A lot of them have problems with women who take school so seriously.”

“What do you mean?” I ask completely confused. “I love smart women—all women, actually.”

“I haven’t had great luck with men.”

That’s a shame. I rest my elbows on the table and lean forward. “Maybe you’ve just been dating the wrong guys?”

There’s a heat between us as we stare each other in the eye. I know she feels it too, because a slight blush creeps up her neck into her cheeks, making me think about what she’d look like after an orgasm. One that, at the moment, I would love to give her by sinking between her sweet, creamy thighs and licking her into oblivion.

Images of what’s hidden beneath those clothes, and the way her mouth tastes, toy with my brain and my cock twitches in anticipation.

I open my mouth to tell her fuck the dinner—let’s get out of here and I’ll give her something else she’s starving for when our overly chipper waitress with bottle-blonde hair approaches the table. “What can I get you two to drink?”

I shake myself out of my daze as I try to clear my sex-crazed brain from thinking about fucking Holly any longer. I can only endure so much torture. “A Bud Light.”

“A Coke, please,” Holly says.

Once the waitress is gone, Holly taps the table with her index finger and directs her attention at everyone else in the place but me. It’s like she’s afraid to look at me again. I completely get it—the attraction between us is hard to deny, but we both know we need to fight it. There can never be anything more than innocent flirting between us and last night needs to be kept locked away.

It’s a bad idea to mix business with pleasure. Even I know that.

Before I can start a conversation about the track, her eyes grown wide and she tries to hide her face behind her hands. “What are you doing, Holly? You look like a crazy person.”

“Don’t say my name,” she whispers harshly, ducking down and grabbing for a menu.

“What? Why?” I turn around in my seat and notice a guy standing at the bar joking with the pretty, busty bartender. He’s about my height, at least six foot, and is covered in tattoos, just like me. His head is shaved along with his face. She can’t possibly be hiding from that guy. I turn back around and find Holly hiding behind the menu she picked up. “Why? Don’t you want the guy at the bar to see you?”

“Yes. Please let me know when he’s gone.”

If I weren’t so puzzled by this uncharacteristic deviation from the normal Ice Queen act I’ve seen from her so far, this would be hilarious. But my concern for her outweighs my personal amusement. What in the hell did that guy do to her? “Tell me who he is first.”

She sighs dramatically and I bet if I could see her she’d be rolling her eyes. “He’s Jackson Cruze.” The tone in her voice makes it seem like it should be obvious to me who the guy is.

I glance up at the ceiling and try to go through my mental files on why that name sounds so familiar. It hits me. I do know that name. I saw it in one of the motocross magazines I read on the plane from Kentucky to here. I do a double-take of the guy and then ask her, “He’s the MX hotshot, right? The one getting all the press right now?”

“Yes,” she hisses.

I lean back in my seat. “Shouldn’t you want to talk to a guy like that to get him to promote the track?”

She drops the menu and stares me in the eye. “No. He’s the last person on earth I want to speak to.”

I fold my arms on the table and lean in. “Why? I don’t get it.”

Holly’s lips pull into a tight line. “He’s my ex-boyfriend.”

Light bulb. “Ah, I see. How recent?”

“Two weeks.”

Ouch.

I nod. “I take it things didn’t end on great terms?”

“No. He cheated on me. From what I’ve heard from the guys around the track who didn’t say a word to me while we were together, he’d been sleeping around for a while. He made it into the pro-circuit while I was away at school last year, and I guess he’s been with all the slutty, bimbos throwing themselves at him on a daily basis behind my back.”

That’s a story that hits a little too close to home and I find myself rolling my hands into fists in my lap. “Let me guess, you were blindsided when you caught him?”

She shakes her head. “He owned up to it after he forgot about the two-year anniversary date we were suppose to have.”

I glance back and narrow my eyes at Jackson and say to Holly, “He sounds like an arrogant little shit stain that needs his ass beat.”

Her soft lips twist like she’s fighting back some tears. “Maybe so, but I even after everything he did to me, I don’t wish him any physical harm.”

I know I haven’t known Holly very long, and it’s insane to feel protective over her, but I know exactly what she’s going through. Being cheated on sucks, especially when the person you love blindsides you.

How dare that douchebag do that to this beautiful, caring girl who obviously loves him. She’s a fucking prize, and if that little twerp couldn’t see that, he didn’t deserve her anyway.

“Oh, God. He’s coming over here. Ignore him,” she orders.

I open my mouth to protest, but Jackson stops at our table. “Holly? How are you?”

Holly stares up at him and smiles. “Hi, Jackson. I’m fine.”

His eyes drift down her body and linger awhile on her tits beneath her white tank-top. “You look great.”

What he means to say is that her tits look great—which they do—but after the way he treated her she shouldn’t give him the satisfaction of looking at them. She should tell him to piss off, but she doesn’t. She actually bats her eyes at him and as she tells him he looks good too.

I don’t fucking get chicks. At. All.

This asshole did her wrong. Why is she being nice to him? One minute she hates him, and the next he has her under some sort of fucked up spell that’s turned the baddest chick I know into, well…she’s acting just like the shallow groupies who try to get my attention. Why would she even want him back after what he did?

This isn’t good. Doesn’t she know with this groupie act she’ll be just another easy mark for him? He’ll have the same thing on his mind that I normally do when it comes to women—fuck ‘em and dump ‘em—and Holly is too good for that. She’s not some random bimbo out for a good time. I’ve been around her long enough today to know she’s loyal and fierce, and deserves so much more.

I’m going to make sure that happens.

I reach across the table and intertwine my fingers with hers. “Who’s this, baby?”

 Holly attempts to pull away, but I squeeze my fingers together, holding her in place. The little touch works. Jackson’s brown eyes zero in on it, and I smirk at Holly.

It takes her a couple seconds to realize that I’m helping her out and she smiles at me. “This is my friend, Jackson.”