The thrill of it pulsed in her blood. Pumped heat between her legs. Shot need low into her belly, where it gnawed into an unbearable ache.
Lexi bit her lip, her mind racing. She could use Rubi’s app to text him. A little harmless anonymous flirting would allow her to get to know him better. Then if he played along, and if she liked him, she could look for a more opportune moment—sans reporters—to introduce herself.
Lexi tested the texting feature out on a couple of other innocent bystanders first. When it worked perfectly—each target picking up their phone and looking at the display immediately after she’d texted them—she sent Rubi a one-word text: smooth, and reevaluated her own “target.”
She zeroed in on him with her phone, and those two numbers popped up in the bubble alongside his dark head again. Two phones. That piqued her curiosity. She’d known businessmen to carry two phones—one for personal use, one for company use. But this guy was the furthest thing she could picture from a businessman. Which made him the perfect sexual fantasy.
Now…she just needed some clever way to open the conversation.
As she watched him on her phone’s screen, something flew into the picture and bounced on the floor near Biker Boy. Lexi glanced up without lifting her head, keeping her face in the shadow of her cap’s brim. A little kid, maybe five, argued with his mom several chairs down from her target. The kid, his face scrunched in a scowl, threw one of his toy trucks at his mother and stomped off in search of the other projectile.
“Kevin, get back here.” The mother’s scolding kick-started the boy into a run. “Kevin, don’t run.”
Biker Boy ignored the argument, lazily turning the page of his magazine.
The mom slapped down whatever she’d been reading and huffed, clearly short on patience. “Kevin, watch where you’re go—”
The kid looked back over his shoulder toward his mother and slammed right into Biker Boy. The coffee flew onto its side. The lid spit off and liquid shot out, splashing the duffle sitting alongside him.
Lexi gasped and covered her mouth.
Biker Boy dropped his magazine and caught the kid by both arms just before he took a nosedive into the carpet.
“Holy shit,” Lexi murmured. Biker Boy had some quick moves.
Kevin stared up at the man. The boy’s eyes were wide, his face lax in shock. Biker Boy said something to the kid. Kevin nodded. The man’s mouth turned up on one side in a grin, and Lexi’s stomach released a gymnastics team of butterflies.
That grin turned him from fun-to-fantasize-about-sexy to positively magnetic.
He pulled something from his pocket and held it out to Kevin. When the boy reached for it, Biker Boy pulled it back and said something else. The boy nodded again and received what looked like a toy.
Kevin dropped to his knees and pushed a small car back toward his mom. After the woman had offered apologies, Biker Boy evaluated the spill damage. Judging by the look on his face and the frustrated way he shoved clothes around, the result hadn’t been good.
Lexi remembered the words of his friend at the truck: “It’s not a good time for him.” Then of their long flight ahead and how Biker Boy would have to suffer with that smell, then find a place to wash his clothes. Lexi felt bad for the guy. And he’d been nice to the kid.
When he sat back, staring at his bag with a mixture of irritation and resignation, Lexi chose one of his numbers and texted him using her speech-to-text app.
“If you’re on the flight to New York,” she said into her microphone, the words appearing on her phone’s screen as she spoke, “you’re in luck. I just read a survey that women in that city are most turned on by the scent of coffee.” It was actually true, so she added, “No joke.”
She grinned, hoping the note would at least cheer him up a little.
That was her excuse, and she was sticking to it.
Lexi said, “Send.”
Then pulled out her sketch pad.
Jax’s day was going downhill fast—and it wasn’t even one a.m.
Now he’d have to arrange getting his clothes and bag cleaned when he got to the hotel before he went out to the set. He stared down at his coffee-soaked bag with thoughts of Veronica, the Bond contract, each one of his five stunt guys, his nonstop schedule for the last month…and sighed.
He definitely needed to change something in his life. But when he felt like this, it was hard. All he wanted to do was fall into his old habits. Especially when the woman he’d spotted in Hudson News was sitting nearby.
He’d smelled her first. He’d been reaching for a motocross magazine when her scent—light, floral, sensuous—stirred the air…