Games of the Heart

“Naw—twenty bucks a round is cool.”

“No, I meant per dart.”

“That’s a hundred bucks a game!”

“That’s not going to be a problem for you is it, Denzel?” she asked, forcing herself not to laugh in his face. “It’s up to you. I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

He gulped. “That’s chump change. I can handle it.”

“Good. We’ll take turns shooting the darts. The first one to zero wins!”

“Sounds fair to me,” he agreed, his eyes flicking anxiously around the bar. The place was starting to fill up. Massaging the back of his neck, he fed her a shaky smile. “Ten minutes ago this place was empty. Now, it’s, uh, full.”

She retrieved the darts from the board, then offered them to him.

“I can’t.” He held up his hands and stepped aside. “What kind of guy would I be if I didn’t let you go first? I’m a gentleman, girl. Go on and do your thing.”

Sage leaned forward, poised to shoot. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

“She’s kicking his ass!”

The men sitting in the corner booth howled with laughter.

“Damn! She got another bull’s eye!” Roderick Baxter thumped his fist against the table. “And she’s making it look easy too.”

Marshall tasted his Hennessey cognac. Swallowing proved difficult. His jaw ached from laughing. If Roderick wasn’t poking fun at the player-wannabe strutting around the room like a seventies pimp, he was taking cheap shots at Denzel Patterson, the missing member of their three-man group.

“I feel for Patterson, though. There’s a crowd around them and everything.” Emilio Sanchez shook his head. “He’ll never be able to live this one down. Getting spanked by a woman at darts? Twice? Shoot. We might as well look for a new hangout spot, because after tonight, he’ll never be able to show his face in here again.”

“Serves him right for going over there in the first place.” Roderick draped an arm around the booth. “We told him not to, but he wouldn’t listen.”

Marshall defended his friend. “Can you blame him? We’ve all been there. How many times have you approached a beautiful woman only to have her shoot you down so bad you’re heart plunged to your knees?”

“You’re right, Grant,” Emilio agreed, his dark brown eyes full of lust. “And that sister over there is hot to death. That chest, those hips, and check out her legs.”

“She could wrap them around me twice!” Admiring the woman from afar, but wishing she was only a breath away, Roderick smoothed a hand over his mustache. “I’d do basic training all over again if she was the drill sergeant!”

Chuckles broke out across the table.

Returning his gaze across the room, Marshall watched the crowd dissipate, leaving Denzel and the shapely sister in the denim miniskirt. When she turned around, he got a clear, unrestricted view of her face. As he watched her count her winnings, it suddenly clicked where they had met before. It was the World Mission volunteer. Marshall thought she’d looked familiar, but couldn’t immediately place her. Downing the rest of his drink, he slipped out of the booth. “Be right back, fellas.”

“Aw, not you too, bro.” Roderick gripped his forearm. “You saw what happened to Patterson. Don’t be a fool, man. Leave that woman alone before you end up crying in your drink.”

“It’s not like that, Baxter. I know her.”

“That’s the same stupid mess Patterson said.”

“It’ll be okay, man. Hang back.”

Releasing his hold, he shrugged a shoulder. “All right. Don’t say I didn’t warn you when she does the Moon Walk all over your pride.”

“She won’t. I wouldn’t be going over there if I thought she was going to diss me.”

Dubious about his friend’s chances of success, he said, “Fifty dollars says you won’t get her phone number.”

“Make it a hundred and you’re on.”

“There’ll be no I-owe-yous, either. I want my money tonight. Hear me, Grant?”

“I hear you.”

Roderick pointed north. “There’s an ATM machine at the entrance. Make sure you have my dough when you come back!”

Disregarding his friend’s warning, he strode purposefully through the dining area. By the time he reached the bar, Denzel had slunk away and the woman was alone.

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” It was an old line, but that didn’t stop him from using it. From what he remembered about the World Mission volunteer, she had a quick laugh and a great sense of humor. After filling out the sponsorship forms, they’d sat in the living room talking about movies and sports and music. “I thought you looked familiar.”

Sage cast a smoldering look over her shoulder. “Do I know you?”

Deflated, but not defeated, Marshall maintained his smile. “You came by my house a few days ago. We talked about World Mission’s sponsorship program.” He was rambling, but didn’t stop. He’d rather make a fool of himself in her presence than return to the booth a hundred dollars poorer. “I live on Irvington Lane, across the street from the park. Mine’s the gray and white house with the basketball hoop out front.”

A pensive expression on her face, she slowly spun around on the stool. “Um…Marshall—Marshall Grant, right?”

Nodding, he sighed inwardly. She remembered him. Pleased, he planted himself in the seat beside her. Roderick might crack on him tonight, but it wouldn’t be because this gorgeous woman shot him down. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“How come?”

Dressed in a cashmere sweater that plunged boldly between her breasts and an itsy-bitsy skirt that skimmed her thighs, she exuded a raw sexuality that demanded attention. She had smoky eyes, and her light brown hair was swept off her shoulders in a side ponytail. Sage Collins was the sister every woman in the bar wanted to be and for good reason. And her work meant she was trying to make the world a better place too. His dream girl. A vixen—and a shapely one at that—with a heart of gold.

Leaning in to ensure he was heard above the clamor, he said, “No baggy gray sweater and gym shoes. Tonight, you deserve a place in that Victoria’s Secret fashion show. Wings and all!”

Sage laughed. “And the other day?”

“Your beauty was concealed to meet the needs of orphaned children.”

“Nice save.”

“Thanks.” In the hopes of eliciting a smile, he said, “I can’t imagine what you’d be doing here alone. Your date’s a fool for making you wait. Give him hell when he shows up.”

Sage smiled, the sheer warmth of it crippling him. “I was supposed to meet a friend for drinks, but…” Straining her eyes toward the door, she sighed. Glancing down at her watch, she said, “It looks like I’ve been stood up.”

Marshall couldn’t believe his luck. She was alone? If he bought her drinks and kept making her laugh, maybe she wouldn’t mind joining him for dinner. He would get to know her better and impress the guys in the process.

“Well, it was nice seeing you again, Marshall.” Sage finished her drink, then placed the empty glass on the bar. “See you around.”

Touching her arm gently, he motioned to her vacant stool. “Don’t rush off. Let me get you another drink. What are you having?”

“An Orgasm.”