Games of the Heart

Marshall was quick to laugh. “You’re joking, right?”

“I couldn’t be more serious.”

He studied her for a moment. “All right, an Orgasm it is.”

“Ah, if it was only that easy,” Sage quipped with a dramatic sigh.

“It is. All women need to do is ask and men would gladly give them the world.”

“Right. Is that before or after you ask to hold some money until payday?”

“That’s cold,” he said, slumping in his seat. He couldn’t believe a woman this attractive and this intelligent had ever had trouble with the opposite sex. She was fit, free and oh so fine. What more could a guy want? “It sounds like you’ve been dating the wrong fellas,” he told her. “We’re not all lazy freeloaders, you know. At least I’m not.”

“And what makes you so different?”

“I was raised in an era of strict discipline, butt whuppings and Al Green!”

Her laughter filled the room with its sweet perfume.

Marshall soaked up the sound, giving his ears their fill. There was nothing like flirting with an attractive woman to inflate a man’s ego. Sage was the “It Girl” in the bar, and that made him the man. His confidence stirred, rose, pushed him to say something he’d never live down if his friends heard him. “All we brothers want to do is please you. But you sisters are harder to crack than a Rubik’s Cube puzzle!” Marshall chuckled long and hard. “Women make men into who they are, so don’t get mad if we come on too strong.”

Sage rolled her eyes.

“Present company excluded, but you sisters are fierce! Dropping it like it’s hot at the club, prancing around in your too-short tops, barely-there-skirts and sexy, five-inch stilettos.” He shrugged. “It’s a woman’s game. We men just play along.”

“Oh,” she crooned, her voice octaves higher, “so that’s why you guys dog us out all the time. Because we’re smart and sexy and not afraid to show it?”

“You’ve got it all wrong. That’s not what I’m saying.” In the hopes of redeeming himself in her eyes, he said, “I heard something on The Dr. Robin Show on the radio that challenged my views about male and female relationships.”

“Really?” Sage raised her eyebrows. “And what was that?”

“Love is selfless. When you love someone, you’re actually loving yourself in the truest, realest way. If you shortchange the people you love, you’re doing a disservice not only to them, but to yourself.”

“Relationships 101, according to the cynical youth center director. Interesting.”

Marshall frowned. “How did you know I run a center? I didn’t mention that when you were over the other day.”

“Khari told me,” she lied, hoping he wouldn’t press the issue. “All this talk about honesty makes me want to confess.”

“To what?”

“We’ve met before.”

His eyes bulged. “We have?”

“Last week my boss took me to the basketball game at Westchester Academy. I was starving, so I decided to buy myself a snack, but when I put my money in the vending machine…”

Marshall stared at her lips. They were full and moist and looked softer than a Georgia peach. She had a beauty mark above her lips, Bambilike eyes, and her breath smelled sweet.

“I shouldn’t have been so bitchy, but I was running on three hours of sleep and one measly cup of coffee. I just wanted to apologize for acting so childish.”

The sheer intensity of her smile almost knocked him off his stool. Changing the channel in his mind, he fought to remember what they’d been talking about. Women complained that men didn’t listen and here was another shining example. Normally he was focused, attentive, alert. In his line of work he had to be. Let your guard down and you could lose your life. But something about this woman left his brain scattering like a pack of marbles. “Ah, sure, okay. No problem.”

“When I looked over my shoulder and saw you standing there, glowering at me, I had memories of my high school principal, Mr. McCaffery.” Shuddering, she closed her eyes as if haunted by his image. “The man was old, mean, and hated kids, especially me.”

“We met at my son’s basketball game?” Marshall asked, finally gathering himself. “You were the psycho—” he cleared his throat “—I mean, the nuisance beating up the vending machine?”

Her smile fell. “Yeah, it was me.”

“You?” His eyes glazed with doubt. “That’s impossible.”

Pretending to be angry, she accused him of being distracted by one of the young, female servers. “I just finished telling you my side of the story. Weren’t you listening?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know where my mind was.” He did, but admitting he had been fantasizing about her would scare her off. Unconvinced she was the culprit, he examined her face closely. She didn’t look like the woman he had butted heads with, but she could have been. “No way that was you! She had bangs. That much I know for sure. She kept blowing them out of her eyes.”

“What can I say? I’m a chameleon,” she said, crossing her legs. “I’d go crazy if I had the same hairstyle longer than a month, so I change it whenever the mood strikes.”

“Your hair was different when you were at the house yesterday. It was shorter, darker, right?”

“Yeah, I had it done this morning.” She touched the nape of her neck. “Like it?”

“Love it.”

Their eyes met. Stroking his jaw, he noted the vibrancy of her skin and the sensuous width of her smile. Silky-smooth layers cascaded over her shoulders, softening the bold, eye-catching shade. How come he hadn’t noticed her nose ring? Or her striking bone structure? If he had spent less time admiring her luscious backside and more time making eye contact, he wouldn’t look like Bozo the Clown now.

“Let me take you out for dinner. Or you could just join me and the guys tonight.”

Sage took a sip of her cocktail, mulling over his invitation. One-on-one, Marshall Grant was putty in her hands, but would he be as sincere around his army buddies? One woman sitting at a table with four men did not make for a pleasant evening. They’d be tripping over themselves trying to impress her, while all she was to be alone with Marshall. Not liking her chances at four-to-one, she politely declined. “I already ate,” she lied, motioning to the empty plate on the bar. Sage didn’t know who it belonged to, but she was glad the prop was there. “Maybe next time.”

If Marshall was disappointed, his face didn’t show it. “No problem, but we should definitely get together sometime.”

“It’s twenty below outside,” she said, coyly. “Where are you going to take me?”

“Slide me your number and you’ll find out.”

The bartender produced a ballpoint pen. “There you go,” he said cheerfully, resting it on the counter. “Just holler if you need anything else.”

Seconds later, Sage handed Marshall a napkin covered in her scrawled handwriting. “Happy now?”

“Very.” He took the napkin from her outstretched hand. His touch, though slight, stirred the fire within her. And when he leaned over and whispered a few scintillating words in her ear, her heart bounced up in her throat. “Be sure to call,” she said casually, though it sounded like an order.

“It was nice seeing you again, Sage. And I will.”

Not ready for him to go, she put a hand on his forearm. “Thanks for the drink. And I’ll try to remember what you said about…orgasms.”

His mouth stretched into a scrumptious grin. “You do that.” A wink, then he stood and strode away.

Chapter 4