Hitting the Mark. Jill Monroe

Corporate men and musicians.

      She’d struck out royally with the musicians. On the face of it, they seemed to be her ideal. Driven, sort of had a job, and they were sometimes decent, even sensitive. But in the end, their life was all about their music. Their next gig. And could she spot them some money to buy a new amp?

      Since the corporate men weren’t clamoring at her door to get the girl with a past and a rap sheet, her dating experience had ended there.

      Despite him allowing her to pay, Eric seemed corporate. She almost hated to go out with him since this would be her last shot of keeping the corporate fantasy alive. Maybe it would be better to not ever know. If this date failed, where would she be? Did she have the stomach to start her lists all over again? Or never date? Both sounded okay and terrifying at the same time.

      Her doorbell rang, and she moved slowly, her fingers stilled on the doorknob. This was it. Her chance to see if corporate worked for her.

      She’d told Eric no game-playing, so she opted to be ready on time. He’d told her nice casual. And thank goodness because all the designer stuff was at the dry cleaners. So she greeted him on Sunday evening in black capris and a beaded green tank with a black half-jacket for her shoulders. And she had the shoes right for this play. Sandals, low heel so as not to be too provocative, but strappy to draw attention to her ankles, which for some reason men, be they loser or lawyer, seemed to like.

      Her hair had been the problem. She wanted flirtatious and serious. Finally, Danni opted to leave her blond hair down her back with a few strands pulled up in clips.

      Appreciation lit his dark eyes, and she let out a relieved breath. She hadn’t even realized she’d been nervous. Okay, lie. She just didn’t want to admit how very anxious she was. What she needed to do was to openly check him out. Put her focus on Eric.

      Actually, he looked a lot better than she remembered. And she remembered him gorgeous. Navy pants, relaxed enough to be casual, tight enough to let her know he was a man. He didn’t appear nervous. Damn.

      “You ready?” he asked. She’d forgotten how sexy his voice was, too. Deep and rich and husky.

      She nodded, slipping the strap of her spangly purse over her shoulder. “So, where are you taking me?”

      He pulled the door shut behind her, turning the handle to make sure it was locked. Then his hand fell to the small of her back. Warmth from his fingers seeped through the thin cotton of her tank.

      “One of my coworkers recommended a dinner club. The singer there is amazing.”

      Was liking music a bad sign? “Did you ever want to be a musician?”

      He shook his head, and gave her a strange sidelong glance. “No. Why do you ask?”

      Danni laughed. “No reason. Never mind.” Corporate. Definitely corporate.

      Fifteen minutes later they were seated and facing one another as they had at the coffee shop. She sized up the restaurant in moments. Moderate to upper level in price range. Couples mainly. Management probably dealt more in credit cards, not a lot of cash in the till. The real money was probably in the register at the bar. And there was a delicious smell of cheese and artichoke dip in the air.

      Hmm, probably assessing where the cash was kept did not indicate ideal first-date behavior. Danni grew ill at ease.

      Feeling awkward was a new one for her. As the roper in her father’s schemes, she’d always been highly familiar with her mark, prepared for every situation. Should she approach Eric like that, see him as the mark? Except she hadn’t put in the practice time or the research to really know him.

      The only advice she had came from Cassie. Her friend’s few choice words of wisdom had been to stay with neutral topics. Keep the conversation going. Avoid long silences.

      The silence between them now was stretching to near Olympic proportion. She shifted in her seat.

      “So tell me, Danni, have you dated much?”

      Good Lord, could he tell she was a rookie? Was she that bad at first dates? She’d almost choked on her water.

      Eric continued. “You didn’t leave me waiting on the couch in your apartment. You haven’t asked one hypothetical question, and no coy hair flip.”

      “Coy hair flip?” she asked, very curious.

      “You sort of toss your hair over your shoulder and look at me from the corner of your eye.”

      As long as he was passing out pointers, she’d give it a try. Danni rotated her shoulders and tossed her hair, never breaking eye contact. “Like this?”

      The smile had left his face. “Uh. Exactly like that.”

      His words were slow, deeper than before. Serious heat burned in his brown eyes.

      Maybe corporate was the ticket. No musician had ever looked at her this way. Like he wouldn’t mind completely crashing the table between them. And yes, right on schedule, there were the nerves.

      Get it together. She couldn’t let him get the upper hand. Playing it light should work. Don’t make it mean much.

      “I have to admit, I haven’t dated a lot,” she told him, her finger tracing the rim of her glass. She met his gaze. “So tell me more of what I should be doing.”

      Eric glanced at his watch. “Well, right about now, you’re telling me what big muscles I have.”

      Danni laughed. “So that’s what girls normally do then, huh?”

      “Yes. Along with wondering how quickly you can get me out of my pants.”

      Hmm, there was charm. That was bad. Sweet talkers, aka charmers were off her list. But they were so…charming. She’d never associated corporate with charming before. They were supposed to be solid, not whimsical, certainly not witty.

      “I thought it was the man who was supposed to be wondering how to get me out of my pants.”

      But Eric just smiled, as if he had it all figured out.

      The rest of their meal followed a predictable pattern of weather, sports and stuff. She never grew bored though. Her dad had always insisted suits were dull. He believed the nine-to-five life was a drag, and that Flynns were not cut out for the ordinary.

      Too soon they’d paid the check and were strolling to the parking lot, toward his car for him to take her home.

      Although Danni had limited experience with first dates, she could figure out that him wanting to take her home immediately was not a good sign.

      “So that’s how first dates go,” she said.

      “They can,” he replied, his voice filled with promise.

      “What does that mean?” she asked glancing up. Man, oh man, he was great to look at. She’d kind of avoided it for most of the evening because she knew her eyes would probably want to eat him up like she had that chocolate cheesecake.

      “Well, a first date can end here. Or maybe I can say something like, ‘Danni, since I’m new in town and don’t know what I can do in Reno for fun, do you have any ideas?’”

      Danni laughed at his suddenly formal and stiff tone. Yes, that’s how she pictured a first date with a corporate suit kind of guy.

      “And then you can say…” he prompted.

      Fine, Danni understood now how this game worked. She wasn’t usually so slow on the uptake, but she chalked it up to her being distracted by his broad shoulders. Or the amazing way he smelled. Or the considerate way he adjusted his longer stride to her shorter steps.

      She cleared her throat. “I can say, ‘Eric, you haven’t lived in Reno if you haven’t bowled.’”

      The stiffness in Eric’s formal posture vanished and he laughed. “Bowling? Are you serious?”

      “Hey,