Her lips turned up in a smile, and then he was rewarded with the sound of her laughter as she accepted his gifts.
“Do lines like that normally work on the women you date?” she asked with the slightest rise of one eyebrow.
His grin never changed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s no other woman but you,” he said. It wasn’t even a lie. Since he’d laid eyes on Amira, he couldn’t think of taking another woman out for a date.
She rolled her eyes before turning and walking inside her home. She hadn’t invited him in, but she’d left the door open so he figured that was his invitation. He stepped inside, first noting the sweet scent of peach in the air. The house was immaculate, not a speck of dust anywhere he looked.
She was certainly a minimalist with only a few pieces of strategically placed furniture and several framed photographs and works of art hanging on the walls. He’d been in places he hadn’t been able to tell the color of the walls they were so adorned. He liked and appreciated Amira’s simpler taste. It was more like his own.
On the other hand, if a person was to see his monster-sized gun cabinet, they wouldn’t think he was a minimalist. Everyone had to have a collection of something, and since he kept that behind thick steel walls, it didn’t clutter his living area.
Amira moved to her kitchen counter and pulled out a vase from a cabinet next to the sink. She filled it with water, proceeded to take the flowers from the bouquet, then cut and trimmed them before arranging them in perfect order in the vase. When she was done, the bouquet looked better than it had in the store.
“Impressive,” he told her.
“I’ve always enjoyed flowers. The bright colors add so much to a room without crowding it,” she told him. “I do appreciate the bouquet. I often buy them for myself so I can get a good floral scent in my dining room, but I’ve been so busy lately I haven’t had time.”
Smoke found it oddly sad she was having to buy her own flowers. Maybe he’d call one of those services and schedule year-round deliveries. Was it once a month or twice? He’d never done it before, but he remembered his mother talking about it. Some man had been trying to impress his mother and had done that. Smoke had wanted to kill the man for pursuing her. She wasn’t just any woman, she was his mom, and a man would have to basically be a saint to be allowed to date her — not that he’d tell his mom that. She’d immediately kick his ass.
“This is a one-time thing, Smoke,” Amira said after she washed and dried her hands. She was leaning against the counter and, with her heels on, was only a few inches shorter than he was. It took all of his willpower not to move up to her, grasp her full hips, and lift her up onto that counter where he could slide between her legs. His legs were twitching with the need to do just that.
“Why don’t we see how tonight goes, and then decide if it should be one time or not?” he countered.
“You backed me into a corner, asking in front of Mrs. Clemens. Now that I know your tricks, I’ll make sure you don’t appear on my floor and do it again,” she warned.
“You have your tricks and I have mine. You can try to keep me away, but I’m warning you it won’t be as easy as you think,” he said with a laugh.
“Are you a secret ninja who will climb in through the windows?” she asked.
He laughed, truly enjoying sparring with the beautiful woman. “I might have a tad of ninja in me. You’ll just have to wait and see,” he said.
“Where are we going?” she asked as she moved from the counter and grabbed a small black purse and a light jacket. At least it was a beautiful evening with zero chance of rain. Maybe he’d even take her to the pier for a walk.
Then again, with the shoes she was wearing that might not work out too well. Women loved heels, but he didn’t understand wearing something that made it impossible for them to have a normal day. They could move from a house to a vehicle, and then to a restaurant table, but that was about the extent of the wear. He’d seen many women holding their heels in their hands while they rode in elevators. The fact that these women paid thousands of dollars for their shoes made it all the more confusing to him. Why pay so much money for something that wasn’t functional?
Smoke led Amira from her home to his vehicle. They listened to music as he drove to downtown Seattle and found parking near Laugh’s Comedy Club. Amira didn’t look impressed as he helped her from the vehicle.
“I promise you’ll have a great time,” he said with a laugh.
“I think I’m a bit too dressed up for this,” she said, still not looking sure.
“There’s no such thing as overdressed. You’re a knockout,” he assured her. He took her hand and placed it through his arm, loving the feel of her walking at his side. He was such a large man, it was difficult to find a woman who fit comfortably next to him. He definitely noticed that Amira fit like a glove. If that wasn’t a sign they should be together, he wasn’t sure what would be.
They got inside to their table and a waitress quickly came and took their order. “What kind of comedy is this?” Amira asked after ordering a dirty martini and a plate of cheese sticks. He was surprised by her choices.
“It always changes, but I did get some insider information that they sometimes get some very famous acts when stars want to come home to where it all began,” Smoke said. He wasn’t telling her, but he knew for a fact that they were getting an extra special guest that night. If it hadn’t been for Brackish, he never would’ve scored the tickets.
They were early, and Smoke was glad to have a bit of time to talk to Amira before the show began. They ordered their meal, then sat back and listened to music as he gazed at the woman sitting across from him.
“I know I’ve said it a hundred times, but you seriously take my breath away. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman as beautiful as you.”
Amira grinned. “I have to admit you’re smooth, Smoke. I don’t want to take your compliments seriously, but they just might go to my head anyway,” she said with a laugh. She’d finished her first drink and the waitress placed a second in front of her. Maybe the alcohol would loosen her up a bit so her guard could come down. Smoke had a strict two drink an hour rule, especially when he needed to be on his toes. With Amira, he needed to have all of his wits about him. She was the sharpest woman he’d ever been around.
“I admit I flirt a lot. When I see something I want, I don’t easily change my mind about it,” he assured her.
“I can totally see that about you,” she said. More food was placed before them and she dove in without hesitation. Good. He hated taking women on dates who refused to eat. It was ridiculous and a waste of money.
“I know virtually nothing about you, Smoke, besides what you told Mrs. Clemens. You’re pretty closed-lipped about yourself,” Amira pointed out.
“I’m an open book,” he told her. “What do you want to know?”
“You played in the NFL?” she began.
He grinned. He’d loved his time, as short-lived as it had been, when he’d played professional football. “Yes, I was a natural athlete from the time I was born, and I was lucky enough to have a mother who supported and encouraged my talents. I practiced with a football before I was walking. My mother didn’t allow me to just play sports. She wanted me to use my brain too. So, if I wasn’t playing football, I was studying. My football talents got me twenty-eight full-ride scholarship offers, but I also had nineteen academic full-ride scholarship offers as well.”