Bad Boys Do by Victoria Dahl

instead of up. But her heart still tumbled as if she’d just received the shock of her life. Ridiculous.
    He set an apple on the corner of the table. “Good afternoon, Ms. Bishop. You look pretty today.”
    Her face felt tight with self-consciousness. She’d thought of him when she’d chosen this dress. It was red. Too red for class, but the tiny white daisies gave her the excuse that it was perfect for summer. And she loved the way the fabric gathered along the bodice to make it look as if she had nearly average-size breasts. The padded bra helped too, but Jamie would never get her clothes off to prove any different.
    “Do you want to get some lunch?”
    She looked up sharply, tearing her eyes away from his ridiculous little gift. “It’s two o’clock.”
    “All right. Do you want to get some coffee? A beer? Ice cream?”
    “It was wrong of me to drag you into that situation. I do thank you for going, and I appreciate your not holding it against me. But…this isn’t a good idea.”
    “That sounds like an awfully solemn declaration over an innocent little ice cream cone.”
    The man made “innocent little ice cream cone” into a filthy promise. His green eyes danced.
    She wanted to shrink into herself, so Olivia set her shoulders back and made herself stand taller. But her gaze still fell to rest on the apple. “That’s because it doesn’t feel innocent. Not to me.”
    He shifted and her eyes rose, and now his face didn’t look amused at all. “Doesn’t that make it important then?”
    It did. Too important. But she’d be damned if she’d say that. “I’m not an eighteen-year-old girl out spreading her wings. I need to be reasonable.”
    “I’d say you’ve got more than enough reasonable. You said you wanted to be fun.”
    “I do, but—”
    “Try it, then.” She had no idea how his gaze could get any warmer, but it did. “I can make anything fun, Olivia…even you.”
    Excitement leapt through her. She should’ve felt insulted, but she only felt the anticipation. The possibility. “You’re just a kid. You don’t understand—”
    “I’m nothing like a kid,” he said, his voice suddenly low and quiet. And she knew he was right. She knew it. But there was something so bright and pure about him. Something that said he still enjoyed being in the world, unlike the rest of the miserable population just making their way through. That was what drew women like moths. It was certainly drawing her.
    Olivia crossed her arms and looked to the side, sweeping her gaze over the empty chairs, the dark carpet, the sickly gray of the walls that glowed under fluorescent lights. This place was the biggest part of her life and the thing was…she’d never even wanted it. How sad was that?
    “Coffee,” she said.
    He raised one eyebrow. “Coffee? All right. Coffee’s pretty fun, but…”
    “Just coffee. I have plans later.”
    He conceded with a gracious wink. He didn’t even complain when she told him she’d meet him at the café. In fact, his smile implied that he knew exactly why she’d said it. Not because she was going to drive straight to the Denver art museum afterward, but because she was afraid of what would happen if he drove her home again.
    In the end, she had a surprisingly nice time. Jamie was easier to talk to than she’d expected. Oh, sure, talking to strangers was part of his job, but when they dared to step into political waters, he was thoughtful and informed. And he made her laugh. They sat on a shady patio. Olivia had a skinny latte. Jamie had an iced caramel macchiato with extra whipped cream.
    When he walked her to her car, she felt as nervous as a teenage girl. With good reason, because when she opened her car door, she was caught between the door frame and the car, and Jamie leaned close.
    “Can I call you?” he asked.
    “Jamie…” She couldn’t keep this up, but she couldn’t resist forever.
    “Just say yes,” he whispered. And then he kissed her, and her mouth was