Opposites Ignite by Sadira Stone (crime books to read .txt) 📗

She could see the wheels turning as his gaze darted from her face back toward his car. His lips compressed and his nostrils flared. Finally, he gave a little grunt. “Let’s make it tonight. I planned this date, and I want to stick to the plan.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s my Eddie, man with a plan. Did you write it in your notebook?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” He grasped her hand and started toward the pond.

“Can I see?”

“Nope.” His grin held a devilish gleam. “Let’s feed the ducks.” He pulled a plastic bag of bread scraps from his jacket pocket and dangled it like a cat toy before a kitten.

She clapped her gloved hands. “How did you know?”

“Everyone likes feeding the ducks.”

As soon as he opened the bag, the quacking flotilla paddled furiously to her and Eddie’s feet. Rosie laughed aloud as the ducks battled for the best bits. “Cut it out, you greedy bastard,” she shouted when a pushy drake snapped at a smaller female.

“I’ll distract him.” Eddie scooped up a rock and tossed it past the glutton. Sure enough, the drake went for it, giving Rosie the chance to feed the other ducks.

“My hero.” She smooched his cheek. He rewarded her with an adorable grin.

When the bag was empty, she wrapped her arms around Eddie from behind and rested her chin on his shoulder. “When we were little, Mom would bring Amara and me here the day after Christmas to feed the ducks. We always saved a few dinner rolls for the duckies.” She giggled at the memory. “Saltines too. Crackers for the quackers. Probably terrible for them.”

He pecked her cheek. “Ducks are tough. Let’s go warm up.”

They climbed the hill to the Victorian conservatory. Inside, Rosie peeled off her hat and gloves and filled her lungs with warm, humid air. “Smells like a jungle in here.”

“Right? Extra oxygen.” He patted her butt. “Let’s explore.”

Ooo-ing and ahh-ing, they strolled through the verdant jewel box. Lacy palms stretched overhead, reaching for the glass dome. Big ceramic pots held ferns and orchids, while Spanish moss and bromeliads hung from walls and tree trunks.

Rosie bent to examine a particularly striking bloom and felt Eddie’s hand snake under her open coat and brush the side of her breast. She chuckled. “Sure you don’t want to scrap the date and head back to your place?”

“Nope.” He nuzzled her neck. “I’m enjoying the anticipation.”

So was she. Each teasing caress fired her impatience to peel off his winter clothes and stroke the satin skin beneath. But he’d planned out this day, and she was equally eager to see what surprise came next.

“You hungry, Ro?”

She liked Lana’s nickname on his lips. Grinning, she smooched him again. “Famished.”

Their next stop was a new Asian fusion restaurant she’d been wanting to try. “How did you know?”

Another shrug. “It just seemed interesting and colorful—like you.”

No way. He’d been asking around. Who had she mentioned this place to—Charlie? Lana? This thoughtfulness tickled her. Not many guys from her past had put so much effort into planning a date. In fact, no one had.

The hostess seated them at a communal table with a gas fire in the center and presented them with an extensive list of daily specials. While waiting for their order, they sipped hot jasmine tea.

She leaned onto her elbows and laced her fingers under her chin. “So, tell me more about your bar. Will it be like this place, or more like Bangers?”

“Definitely like Bangers, but a little more polished. Less sports stuff.”

“Will you have darts? Is that a Russian thing?”

“Absolutely. Shuffleboard table too. I’m aiming for Russian flair, something different to stand out from the other bars. But I still want that homey feel like we have at Bangers.” He pulled his little notebook from his jacket pocket.

Rosie tapped the open pages with her chopstick. “Taking notes?”

“Yeah, I really like this fire table. I don’t get out to bars as often as I’d like.” He flashed a wry grin. “Pretty busy. When I do, I try to notice what makes each place special.”

“To use in your future bar?”

“Maybe. There’s a lot that goes into it—layout, traffic patterns, decoration, furnishings, entertainment options.”

“Sounds like you’re building a killer business plan.”

“You know about business plans?”

Her cheeks heated. “I’m not all boobs and ink, you know. I took business classes at TCC.”

He set his hand over hers. “I never doubted your smarts. But most people find this stuff pretty boring. They just want beer and food. They don’t care how it gets on their table.”

“Well, I do have a little insight there. You can bounce ideas off me anytime.” Just then, the server set down a plate of shrimp and chive dumplings and little dishes of dipping sauce. She tasted one, clutched her chest, and moaned. Eddie’s eyes bugged out. Really, she shouldn’t torture the poor guy like this, but teasing him was so much fun.

“Sooo good!” She dipped another dumpling in the garlicky sauce and lifted it to his lips. “You gotta try these.”

He took a bite, closed his eyes, and sighed—just like he did when she kissed him.

Next came crispy salt and pepper tofu cubes drizzled with spicy garlic-scallion oil. Rosie sampled one and sighed. When she opened her eyes, Eddie’s gaze was lasered onto her mouth.

“What will you serve at your bar? I’m guessing it won’t be tater tots.”

“No, but lots of dumplings—steamed ones called pelmeni, and fried pirozhki. There’s a Russian dumpling place in Seattle that does all kinds of fusion flavors—bacon cheeseburger dumplings, kielbasa and sauerkraut, stuff like that. Plus I’ll serve fried brown bread fingers with cheese dip—the best beer snack ever. And all kinds of pickled veggies—delicious with beer or vodka.”

“Yum.” She sampled a fresh spring roll—tender wrapper surrounding crisp lettuce, bean sprouts, scallions, and prawns. “Will you use your mom’s recipes?”

“Maybe.” He set down his chopsticks and sighed. “If she’s still speaking to me by the time I finally scrape together the capital.”

She laid her hand atop his.