it hurt to play his game? He was definitely not hard on the eyes, and she’d always been a sucker for a guy who could make her laugh. She’d grown up with four older brothers, and though she’d never say it out loud, she missed their constant teasing.
“I think you’re full of it, but my social calendar isn’t exactly overflowing at the moment. I’ll be glad to introduce you to Ranchero someday.” She shoved the queso and chips toward him. “My eyes must have been bigger than my stomach,” she said, wondering what in the heck that meant, anyway.
And since when didn’t she finish off everything she ordered? Especially queso and chips, her favorite. Her dad always teased that she had the appetite of a lumberjack.
“Ah. My remark about keeping that pretty little figure worked. I get the leftovers,” Alex said, reaching for a chip.
The heat crawled up her cheeks, making her wonder if it was a pre–hot flash.
“Gotcha,” he said, obviously noticing the blush before both of them laughed out loud.
After what seemed like seconds but was actually a good ten minutes, Jordan glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to get back. Except for the part where you got to see Diet Pepsi shoot out of my nose, this was fun, Alex.”
“Be forewarned. I never let a girl forget something like that,” he countered. “Unless of course, they break down and agree to let me buy them dinner.”
When he stood, Jordan couldn’t resist a quick scan. She’d never walked into a bank anywhere and seen an employee built like this guy. The man could have stepped out of a GQ magazine with his charcoal suit and a baby blue shirt that matched his eyes. There was definitely a gym membership with his name on it somewhere in the Houston Metroplex.
Ordinarily, she expected several phone conversations before going out with a guy. That way she could pick up on whether he was a racist, all about himself, or simply a wellclothed jerk. Something about Alex blew all her caution out the window. “I’d like that.”
She was rewarded with another dazzing display of perfect white teeth.
“What about tomorrow night? I could pick you up after work, and we could ride around while you show me the town before I buy you that dinner.”
Her face fell. “Can’t tomorrow. I’m on assignment.”
“Can we at least have dinner?”
She shook her head. “Dinner is the assignment. I’m doing another report on the food at Longhorn Prime Rib.”
As if a lightbulb had gone off in his head, Alex stared for a moment. “Jordan McAllister. I knew that sounded familiar. You wrote about the foie gras, didn’t you?”
“That would be me,” she admitted, wondering what side of the fence he was on about the issue.
“Good job, by the way. Do you eat there often?”
“Who can afford to?” She stopped herself before mentioning J. T. “I have to get back. You know how to find me.” She scooted under his arm while he held the door open. Something told her not to, but she couldn’t resist another quick glance before she headed for the office. He smiled back.
A block away, she paused. Was someone watching her? Turning to look in all directions and not seeing anything out of the ordinary, she passed it off as wishful thinking. The man was hot, and it wouldn’t be all that bad if he was watching.
That Rattlesnake Pasta had darn well better be worth my giving up dinner with Mr. Hot Bod.
As she neared the office, she chanced one final glance over her shoulder, and was disappointed when she didn’t see him. Just in case he was watching, she added a wiggle to her walk.
CHAPTER 6
Alex Montgomery settled back in his chair, hands behind his head, studying the image on his computer screen. He’d had a gut feeling the girl was somehow involved when he’d initially seen her at Longhorn Prime Rib. When his police scanner had first squawked the news of the murder at Empire Apartments, he’d hightailed it over and watched from down the street as the cops
“I think you’re full of it, but my social calendar isn’t exactly overflowing at the moment. I’ll be glad to introduce you to Ranchero someday.” She shoved the queso and chips toward him. “My eyes must have been bigger than my stomach,” she said, wondering what in the heck that meant, anyway.
And since when didn’t she finish off everything she ordered? Especially queso and chips, her favorite. Her dad always teased that she had the appetite of a lumberjack.
“Ah. My remark about keeping that pretty little figure worked. I get the leftovers,” Alex said, reaching for a chip.
The heat crawled up her cheeks, making her wonder if it was a pre–hot flash.
“Gotcha,” he said, obviously noticing the blush before both of them laughed out loud.
After what seemed like seconds but was actually a good ten minutes, Jordan glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to get back. Except for the part where you got to see Diet Pepsi shoot out of my nose, this was fun, Alex.”
“Be forewarned. I never let a girl forget something like that,” he countered. “Unless of course, they break down and agree to let me buy them dinner.”
When he stood, Jordan couldn’t resist a quick scan. She’d never walked into a bank anywhere and seen an employee built like this guy. The man could have stepped out of a GQ magazine with his charcoal suit and a baby blue shirt that matched his eyes. There was definitely a gym membership with his name on it somewhere in the Houston Metroplex.
Ordinarily, she expected several phone conversations before going out with a guy. That way she could pick up on whether he was a racist, all about himself, or simply a wellclothed jerk. Something about Alex blew all her caution out the window. “I’d like that.”
She was rewarded with another dazzing display of perfect white teeth.
“What about tomorrow night? I could pick you up after work, and we could ride around while you show me the town before I buy you that dinner.”
Her face fell. “Can’t tomorrow. I’m on assignment.”
“Can we at least have dinner?”
She shook her head. “Dinner is the assignment. I’m doing another report on the food at Longhorn Prime Rib.”
As if a lightbulb had gone off in his head, Alex stared for a moment. “Jordan McAllister. I knew that sounded familiar. You wrote about the foie gras, didn’t you?”
“That would be me,” she admitted, wondering what side of the fence he was on about the issue.
“Good job, by the way. Do you eat there often?”
“Who can afford to?” She stopped herself before mentioning J. T. “I have to get back. You know how to find me.” She scooted under his arm while he held the door open. Something told her not to, but she couldn’t resist another quick glance before she headed for the office. He smiled back.
A block away, she paused. Was someone watching her? Turning to look in all directions and not seeing anything out of the ordinary, she passed it off as wishful thinking. The man was hot, and it wouldn’t be all that bad if he was watching.
That Rattlesnake Pasta had darn well better be worth my giving up dinner with Mr. Hot Bod.
As she neared the office, she chanced one final glance over her shoulder, and was disappointed when she didn’t see him. Just in case he was watching, she added a wiggle to her walk.
CHAPTER 6
Alex Montgomery settled back in his chair, hands behind his head, studying the image on his computer screen. He’d had a gut feeling the girl was somehow involved when he’d initially seen her at Longhorn Prime Rib. When his police scanner had first squawked the news of the murder at Empire Apartments, he’d hightailed it over and watched from down the street as the cops
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