Free Blackthorne: Heart of Fame, Book 8 by Lexxie Couper Page B

he fixed her in a level gaze. “Sounds boring,” he said before throwing back his head and emptying his glass.
    The liquor burnt a path straight through his throat. It was nothing compared to the heat he was feeling in the pit of his belly, in his groin.
    Hell, he hadn’t been this aroused by a woman since…well, since he first saw Caitlin’s photos in Chris Huntley and Liev Reynolds’s LA home.
    Returning his gaze to her face, he bit back a curse. A flinty light filled her eyes, the same disdainful reproach he’d seen there twice already.
    He’d fucked up somehow. And he thought their flirting was going so well. What had he said?
    “Being a good person isn’t boring,” she said, turning away from him with their empty glasses. “Just like being a famous one isn’t a guaranteed way into a girl’s pants.”
    She yanked open a dishwasher, deposited the two glasses in there with savage force and slammed the dishwasher shut. “There,” she said, turning back to him, glare firmly in place. “You’ve bought me a drink. Now you can leave.”
    Chest heavy, Josh frowned. “I’ve said something to offend you.”
    Her glare grew darker. An unreadable emotion flared in her eyes.
    He pressed his elbows on the bar and leant towards her, wanting her to see the sincerity in his face. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to hear you laugh again.”
    With a ragged sigh, Caitlin scrunched up her face and rubbed her hands at it. Her shoulders slumped. So did her spine for just a moment. “ I’m sorry,” she said, lowering her hands to gaze at the counter. “I’m not good with…this.”
    “This?”
    She lifted her attention to him, her smile wobbly. Uncertain. “This…interacting with men.”
    Josh’s lips curled. “You mean flirting?”
    A dry laugh fell from her. She shook her head, rolled her eyes and held out her hand to him, palm up. “We are not flirting. You are trying to seduce your way into my bed. I am trying to make it clear that’s never going to happen.” She wriggled her fingers. “Now cough it up. Twenty-two bucks fifty.”
    Drawing away from the bar, he patted his back pockets. “I don’t have my wallet on me.”
    Confusion and disbelief pulled at her eyebrows. “Then how the hell did you pay for all the drinks you bought for my patrons tonight?”
    Ducking his head, he offered her a sheepish grin. “Kidding.” He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, withdrew his credit card and held it out to her.
    She looked at it. Studied it for a long moment.
    Didn’t take it.
    A thick pressure wrapped Josh’s chest. “You know what I could go for right now?” he said, leaning back on the bar again as he tapped the edge of his credit card on the marble surface. “A Harry’s Tiger. Do they still serve those at Harry’s Café de Wheels down on the corner of Cowper Wharf Roadway? Those meat pies covered in mash potato, mushy green peas and gravy?”
    Expression unreadable, Caitlin nodded. “They do.”
    Josh smiled. “What do you think? Want to share one with me?”
    She frowned. Her teeth worried her bottom lip.
    “I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “You share a pie with me at Harry’s tonight, I mean, this morning, now, and you don’t have to make me lasagna later.” He let his smile stretch a little wider. “What do you think? It’s win-win for you. You can tell your uncle you fed me one night without lying and I’ll stop harassing you in a futile attempt to get into your pants. How’s that sound?”
    Pinching her bottom lip with her thumb and forefinger, she studied him, a contemplative light in her eyes. “I think that’s doable.”
    Excitement sheared through Josh, but he tempered it with a low chortle. “I’m all about doable.”
    She laughed. “Seriously?”
    He pulled a mock look of indignant shock. “What?”
    A smile played with her lips. “I’m just going to get my bag.”
    “Okey dokey.”
    She sniggered as she rounded the end of the bar and walked towards the privatedoor