The Trouble with #9 by Piper Rayne

“Yeah, I was wrong. Go change.” I keep my eyes facing the windshield, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

There’s no way I’m going to continue our date with her in that outfit.

“I told you I was in my pajamas,” she says, not reaching for the door.

“I thought you’d be wearing something with more fabric.” My fingers tighten on the leather steering wheel even more and my hands ache.

“Hmm… I’m thinking I should refuse. Tempt you.” She leans back in the seat.

I peek over and see her nipples erect through the tight tank top. “I swear, Paisley, if you don’t leave this car and go change, I cannot be responsible for what I do.”

Her legs widen. “Maybe I want you to go all caveman on me.”

Fuck. Is this another one of her acts or is this her? As much as I’d like to think she’s just fucking with me, I’m pretty sure she’s not. As my pants get snugger, I mentally repeat to myself that if I break now, she might always think that’s why I’m with her.

“Go change, Paisley,” I bite out. “Please.”

Her hand reaches for the car door. Thank fuck.

“Since you asked so nicely.” The passenger door opens and she’s got one foot out of the door when she turns in my direction. “Feel free to watch me walking away.”

And watch I do, with my fist in my mouth so I don’t scream for her to return and straddle me in the front seat.

She walks back to my car five minutes later in a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt with a bra underneath. What was I thinking in telling her to change? The only piece of skin showing now is a strip along her stomach.

“Better?”

“Better so I don’t go animalistic on you, yes.” I start the engine and pull away from the curb.

“You’re aware that it’s you keeping us from moving forward to the next stage of our relationship?”

“I’m fully aware.”

She giggles and scoots in her seat to get comfortable. “I love your car.”

I run my hand down the steering wheel. “Thanks. You look good in it.”

A blush rushes up her neck. I so badly want to see that travel the length of her body.

We arrive at the candy store ten minutes later.

“You’ve taken me to a closed strip mall? Definitely original.”

I turn off the ignition and open up my door. “Just wait and see.” Rounding the front of my car, I open the passenger door and hold out my hand.

“Just so you know I scream really loud.” She accepts my hand, and I pull her out of the car and into my arms, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“That was made clear on the roller coaster, kotik.” I kiss her forehead, the smell of lavender and vanilla floating up to my nostrils.

She tilts her head up to look at me.

“Hello,” I say.

“Hi,” she says and I kiss her briefly. “I hope that means you’re not going to kill me.”

I drag her toward the candy store. “Believe me, I’m not killing you until I have all of you.”

“Oh, well, that’s refreshing.”

I chuckle at her sense of humor. Ever since the amusement park, I’ve tried to figure out why she felt she needed to be someone she wasn’t with me. I’m attracted to her for her intelligence, her wry humor, her kindness. Why does she feel that’s not enough to fulfill my needs?

Nolan, Roadie’s teenage son, comes out of the store when he sees us approaching. I hand him a fifty and he pockets it. “I’ll be in my car to lock up when you’re done.”

“Thanks, Nolan.”

He nods and holds the door open for Paisley to walk in, waggling his eyebrows. I shove him in the chest and hear his laughter until the door shuts.

“So you’re going to kill me with sugar?” Paisley asks, perusing the rows of different candy in plastic bins.

“The store is yours. Whatever you want.”

She turns, and the dim light catches her smile. “Anything I want? Hmm…”

“Even the chocolate,” I say.

“Ohh… you spoil me, Maksim Petrov.”

I walk to her and swing one arm around her waist, pulling her back to my chest. How am I ever going to go through the agony of six more dates before I’m inside her? “Have you ever had a guy sneak you into a candy shop after hours?”

She giggles and I slide her hair off her shoulder with my free hand. “Nope, this is original.”

“Definitely original.” I kiss her neck and slap her ass. “Now go pick out some candy.”

She scoots forward, almost running away from me.

“Let’s see what we can tell about one another from the candy we pick out?” She opens up a case of gummy something and steals one.

“The fact that you ate the gummy bear’s head off, I’m thinking I need to take back the rights to our little rubber ducky.”

She laughs and her head falls back, making her curls bounce. I love making her laugh. She throws the rest of the gummy bear in the air and catches it in her mouth, chewing it dramatically. “We do need to name our duck.”

“Our duck, huh?” I like how that sounds coming out of her mouth.

“I’ll gladly take on full custody rights if you’d like to abandon her.” She takes a handful of sour balls and brings one after the other into her mouth.

“I’m not abandoning her.”

“You haven’t come to visit her. I had her in the bath with me the other night and we both missed you.” She pretends to whine.

That brings to mind a visual that’s better saved for when we’re not in a public place. I clear my throat and then look away from her. “I’m heading over to the chocolate.”

She laughs, probably knowing the effect she has on me.

Leaving her, I go over to the chocolate bins, pick up a bag, and fill it.

“I give you props, three original ideas on dates,” she says from across the room. “This isn’t from too much practice, is it?”

I look up from the chocolate-covered almonds. “Are you suggesting I’m a serial dater and take different women to all the same original places?”

She shrugs, the easy expression from earlier gone from her face. “What can I say? I have some issues.”

I abandon my bag and grab a bag for her. “Fill up your bag, then we’re heading out to the beach. You’re going to tell me who hurt you.”

She accepts the bag but doesn’t move. “You want me to open up all this baggage I’m carrying and show you what’s inside?”

I make sure she’s looking into my eyes so that she can see my sincerity when I say, “I want to know everything about you.”

She gives me a small smile and turns and fills her bag. Hopefully she’s ready to open up to me.

Ten minutes and two bags of candy later, Nolan meets us at the door. I hand him a hundred-dollar bill that more than pays for the candy, and we head back to my Mercedes.

“The beach, huh? Is that considered date four or are we still on date three?” she asks.

I think for a moment. How can I make a walk on the beach unique in some way? “Maybe if we go shark diving?”

She laughs and her brows crinkle. “I don’t ride roller coasters. What makes you think I’d go shark diving?”

“True. FYI, I’m not cool with that either.”

“Really?” She seems surprised.

“Do you think of me as less than a man?” I could add that sharks and pretty much any mammal that lives in the water scare the crap out of me, but I don’t.

“Your man card is intact with the fact that you’re a professional hockey player.”

I run my hand over my forehead. “Phew.”

We drive toward the beach. A sign on the side of the road gives me an idea of how to squeeze two dates into one.

“I have to make a quick stop.” I pull over at a convenience store, run in, and buy what I need.

When I get back in the car, I hold up the box of garbage bags.

She doesn’t smile or laugh, but inches closer to the door. “You’re going to take me to a beach late at night and you bought black trash bags?”

It takes me a second to clue in to where she’s coming from, but when I do, I can’t stop laughing.

“Maks?”

Something about her shortening my name feels like a tug on my chest. “I thought we could pick up trash. You know, instead of adopt a road, adopt a beach. As much as we need to in order for this to be considered our fourth date.”

“Hmm. How about this… I’ve never had anyone feed me candy while I walked on the beach.”

I toss the trash bags in the back seat. “Much better idea.”

She places her hand on my thigh. “Not that I would mind picking up trash one day, but I’d like some gloves.”

Man, I feel like such an idiot for my suggestion, but I’m working on the fly here. Then again, her hand is on my thigh and she’s running it up and down, so it seems to have worked out. Score.

We arrive at the beach and bring our bags of candy with us. We stand side by side in the sand, staring at the dark water. The moon is full and reflects off the water, and in the sky are tall clouds miles and miles off into the Gulf. They light up with a flash of lightning inside them every once in a while. There’s not much of a breeze, so the waves gently lap at the shore.

“There’s something about the darkness of the Gulf at night,” she says. “It doesn’t make it as magical. It makes me think there’s some dark stuff going on in that water.”

“I’ve never really thought about it. The darkness is kind of eerie though. But don’t worry, I’m here to protect you.”

“Unless you plan on throwing me in the water, I think I’m safe.” She opens her bag of candy. “Gummy bear, please.”

I pick out a gummy bear and place it on her tongue. “The start of our fourth date.”

I hold out my bag and she picks a malted chocolate ball, putting it in my mouth. We walk for a while.

I wait for her to bring up whoever this guy is who’s causing me problems now, but she only makes small talk and asks me to feed her candy. Guess I’m going to have to push the issue. It’s now or never.

“Who’s the guy that I’m gonna prove is a dickhead?” I ask.

She blows out a breath and stops walking, looking out at the water. “No judging?”

“Never.” I sit down on the sand and wait for her to join me.

She does and takes a peanut butter cup and shoves it in my mouth. “My dad.”

My eyebrows raise.

“He left my mom when I was in middle school. Married another woman.”

“Oh.” Not at all what I expected.

“It’s complicated. The woman he left my mom for was the complete opposite of her. I’m just like my mom.”

“So your mom is gorgeous and intelligent?”

She smiles at me. “You are a sweet talker, Petrov, and yes, she is. But she’s also the girl next door. The organizer. The planner. The type A personality.”

“All admirable traits.” I’m not sure I understand what the problem is.

“She’s not the fun one, Maksim, and neither am I. I’m not the crazy ‘dance and drink all night’ woman. I’m not the kind of woman a man loses himself in. The woman who always keeps him on his toes. I’m a ‘make sure all the bills are paid’ girl, my calendar is fully color coded.”

“This is what you’re worried about? That I’ll think you’re boring?”

“Yes. Maybe not now, but eventually.”

“Open up.” I shove a handful of sour balls in her mouth. “My turn now.”

“Mmm…” she says, but I shake my head.

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe those are things I want in a partner? Or that your dad is just some asshole who didn’t know how lucky he was? I love the fact you wouldn’t let me out of the therapy. That you had to check that box in your head. The approved snack list you gave the Fury Juniors? Genius. And let’s remember you rode roller coasters with me, and I bet if I did want to go shark diving, you’d agree eventually. You might be terrified, but you’d trust me to keep you safe. And do you know how fucking sexy it is that you have no idea that ten different guys check you out every time you enter a room? You’re blind to how my entire world has been turned upside down since you stepped into it. I wish you could see yourself the way I do. You’re so much more than you give yourself credit for. Paisley, you’re everything and more to me, exactly how you are.”

She swallows and looks at me for a moment. Just when she looks as if she’s going to speak, she tackles me to the sand and kisses me as though I’m the last man on earth.

I guess I said the right thing.