"So, what're your plans for dinner?"

The truck had come to a stop at a traffic light and Jocelyn glanced over at Bas. "I don't have any. Why?"

"After playing that game with you, I've worked up an appet.i.te and thought we could stop and grab something to eat."

Jocelyn laughed. "I couldn't help noticing how much you got into the game. You're a good player."

"Yet you won."

"Yeah, but to give you credit I have to admit you played well. One of the keys to winning pinball is to concentrate on what shots are going to give you the biggest points."

He decided not to tell her the real reason he'd lost was because he'd been concentrating on her more than the game. "I was serious when I said I wanted a rematch," he said.

"I'm sure you were, and I don't mind accommodating you if you can handle another loss."

He laughed. "Kind of confident, aren't you?"

She smiled. "When playing pinball one has to be."

The sun had gone down and dusk was settling in, but even with the dim light in the truck's cab, Bas could see Jocelyn's features clearly, and a funny feeling flowed all through him. He turned to look out the window, thinking it was safer to do so. His attraction to her wasn't good at all. In fact it was bad news.

"So what are your plans?"

Jocelyn's question intruded into his thoughts and he glanced over at her. "Not sure, but I need something to eat." And nothing fried, he further thought, remembering Dr. Nelson's words as well as the promise he'd made to his sister-in-law. He'd gone a week without any fried chicken and it was about to kill him. Each time he pa.s.sed a KFC he had to keep his control in check and not go in and order the dark-meat special.

"That place up there serves good food," she said, pointing to a restaurant just ahead.

"They have chicken?"

"Yes."

"Baked?"

"Yes, and it's pretty good. It's nice to meet a man who doesn't have to eat fried chicken. All that grease isn't good for you."

He decided not to tell her that all that grease was what he wanted, but he'd been sentenced to a life without it for a while. "Will you stop and have dinner with me?"

When she came to another traffic light, she settled her gaze on his, and he knew she was trying to make her mind up about whether she would join him for dinner. "Come on, you've got to eat some time," he coaxed.

Another smile touched her lips. "I had a big lunch, but I do know for a fact that restaurant makes a dynamite salad."

He couldn't imagine anyone just having a salad for a meal, but he said anyway, "Okay, then what are we waiting for?"

She eased the truck into the turning lane and laughed. "Not one single thing. Besides, I'm curious as to how you got Marcella Jones to go along with those surcharges."

For a Tuesday night the place was crowded, but fortunately, enough waitresses were working the tables and within a few minutes Jocelyn and Bas had been seated.

"Um, I can just smell the fried chicken," Bas said, inhaling the air and licking his lips.

Jocelyn raised a brow. "I thought you were getting baked."

"I am." He took a sip of coffee before picking up his menu.

"So how did you do it?" Jocelyn asked, glancing over her own menu. She wondered why she was bothering to look at it since she knew exactly what she wanted. But then looking at the menu meant she didn't have to look at Bas, because looking at Bas made her insides sizzle. Something about the restaurant's lighting made him that much more eye-droppingly handsome. She couldn't help noticing that the waitresses were definitely checking him out.

"How did I do what?"

His question reeled in her thoughts. "Get Marcella to cooperate."

Blowing out a breath he said, "Trust me, it wasn't easy."

"So how did you do it?" she asked again.

Bas decided it was best Jocelyn didn't know all the gory details. Just like Sadie, Marcella had remembered him from those summers long ago. She was brazen as h.e.l.l and had actually told him how turned on she used to get seeing him shirtless, and she more than hinted that she would like to see him without his shirt again, or his pants.

He had remained professional and had told her in a nice way he wasn't interested in undressing for her and that their only business was the building of her house. She hadn't appreciated her s.e.xual advances being turned down and had tried being difficult. He had refused to let her get on his last nerve, and had finally said since the two of them couldn't see eye to eye he would deal with her husband. Evidently, she'd gotten concerned that Bas would mention her less than estimable behavior to Mr. Jones, and decided to cooperate.

"At first she wasn't having any of what I said, so I told her I would discuss the situation with her husband. In the end, let's just say Marcella Jones and I decided it was best to keep her husband out of it."

Jocelyn's lips quirked. "She came on to you, didn't she?"

He lifted a brow. "Why would you think that?"

Jocelyn chuckled. "Because I know Marcella. Over the years I've heard the rumors. She came on to Reese when we were building her first house and he had to put her in her place. Unfortunately for her it was during the time Reese had sworn off all women. We were surprised she came to us to build another house for her. Rumor has it that she likes them young."

Bas took another sip of coffee. "She can't be that old."

"Try forty-five."

Bas blinked at her. "You're kidding."

"Nope. I admit she wears her age well. Most people take her to be ten years younger at least."

At that moment the waitress, who was all but drooling while looking at Bas, came back to take their orders. "I'll have a chef's salad," Jocelyn said, closing the menu.

The young woman nodded. She then turned her complete attention to Bas. Jocelyn couldn't help noticing that the waitress had undone the top b.u.t.ton of her uniform and was now showing a lot of cleavage. And it was plain to see she was wearing a push-up bra.

"And what will you have?" the waitress asked Bas, all but purring the words.

Jocelyn had always thought that jealousy was a complete waste of time and energy, but watching the woman in action was almost too much. She glanced over at Bas while he gave his order. He either didn't see how the waitress was coming on to him or he was choosing to ignore it.

Feeling a little agitated, Jocelyn was about to excuse herself to go to the ladies' room when Bas reached over, squeezed her hand and said, after looking at the waitress's name tag, "And if you don't mind, Stacy, my fiancee and I would like to be served as soon as the cook can get it ready. We're in a hurry to get home."

Jocelyn saw the disappointment in the woman's eyes before she nodded and left. Jocelyn shook her head and slowly pulled her hand from Bas's. She didn't want to think how good his hand felt encompa.s.sing hers.

"That woman had some nerve coming on to you that way with me sitting here. For all she knew I could have been your wife."

Bas smiled. "She probably thought you weren't since you aren't wearing a ring."

Jocelyn frowned. "That shouldn't mean anything. The mere fact that I'm here with you should have garnered respect."

"Yes, it should have."

"You should not have had to pretend anything was going on between us."

"No, I should not have."

Jocelyn glared. The way he was agreeing with everything she said irked her. "I'm not amused, Bas."

His expression turned genuinely serious. "Neither am I, Jocelyn. We can always leave if she offended you. And if you want to stay we can request another waitress."

She shook her head. Another waitress would only drool like the last one had. In the woman's defense, though, she had to admit that cleft in Bas's chin was patently masculine and completed the total s.e.xy package. Not that she'd say it aloud. "No, I'm fine. It just bothers me how brazen some women are. I would never be that bold."

And a part of Bas appreciated that she wouldn't. He couldn't imagine Jocelyn ever handling herself inappropriately. However, on the other hand, she could put you in your place if she felt the need.

"I think you're going to enjoy your baked chicken," she said a few minutes later.

Bas glanced over at the table next to theirs where a man had ordered fried chicken and seemed to be enjoying it. Bas felt his stomach whine. Sighing deeply, he said, "I really hope so."

Bas had to admit his food was delicious. He had been careful while ordering to stay away from the items on the menu that Kylie had told him were a nono. He couldn't help but smile, thinking about how his sister-in-law had encased herself in his and his brothers' lives.

Once she had found out that he needed to make a change in his eating habits, she had taken it upon herself to educate him on the proper food choices. It was a good thing he was here in Newton Grove. Had he remained in Charlotte he would be starving on some strict menu Kylie thought best for him.

"You're smiling. Does that mean you think the food tastes good?" Jocelyn asked.

He glanced up and the smile on his lips widened. "Yes, it tastes good, but that's not why I'm smiling. I was thinking about my sister-in-law."

"Your sister-in-law?"

"Yes. Kylie," he said, tossing his napkin down and leaning back in his chair. "She's a very nice person and the best thing to ever happen to my brother in a long time. They've only been married eight months."

"Which brother is this? You mentioned you had three." From Bas's smile Jocelyn could tell that he and his brothers shared a close relationship.

"Kylie's married to Chance, the oldest at thirty-seven. Then there are Morgan and Donovan. Chance is the only one of us who's ever been married. He was a widower for seven years and has a sixteen-year-old son named Marcus."

Bas chuckled. "In fact, Marcus and Kylie's daughter, Tiffany, who is fifteen, are the reason Chance and Kylie are together."

Jocelyn wiped her mouth with a napkin before asking. "How is that?

"By playing cupid."

For the next twenty minutes Bas told Jocelyn how Marcus and Tiffany had felt that neither of their strict parents had a life and had decided to do something about it by orchestrating a plan to shift their parents' attention off them and onto each other.

Instead of using the napkin to wipe at her mouth, Jocelyn began dabbing at her eyes while laughing. She'd found the teens' escapades totally hilarious. "Well, evidently their plan worked."

Bas chuckled. "Yes, it did. Quite successfully." He took advantage of the break in conversation to question why he was here, sharing dinner with Jocelyn, instead of back at the office going through files. Although he wanted to think that this entire afternoon had been a total waste of good time, he couldn't. He had to admit that he enjoyed the time he had spent with Jocelyn, although it had started out pretty d.a.m.n rocky.

He'd gotten a kick out of playing pinball with her even when she was slaughtering him in points, and dinner had been rather nice, as well. He felt comfortable talking to her, sharing tidbits about his family. The last woman he'd taken out had been Ca.s.sandra and they'd gone to an exclusive restaurant. She had spent the entire evening criticizing the outfits other women were wearing. To hear her talk, she was the only fashion plate in the place.

"You mentioned that Cameron Cody was interested in one of your cousins."

Bas studied the dark liquid in his gla.s.s and grinned. After dinner they had ordered scrumptious cheesecake and a gla.s.s of delicious dessert wine to go along with it. "Yes, and I have a feeling he still is. I met Cameron a few years ago when he tried to take over the Steele Corporation."

Jocelyn lifted a brow, not sure she had heard him correctly. "Cody tried forcing a takeover of your company?"

"Yes, and he would have been successful if my brothers and three cousins and I hadn't stuck together, which proved what a unified force we were. The Steele Corporation was formed over twenty-five years ago by my father and my Uncle Harold. It was always understood that I and my three brothers, as well as Uncle Harold's three daughters-Vanessa, Taylor and Cheyenne-would one day inherit the company. All of us are working there except for Taylor and Cheyenne. They decided to pursue careers outside of the corporation, although they sit on the board. Uncle Harold pa.s.sed away ten years ago and my father retired five years after that, leaving Chance as CEO."

He took another sip of his wine before continuing. "As soon as word got out about my father's retirement, several corporate marauders tried to force a takeover. Cameron's company was just one of them."

Jocelyn took a sip of her own wine. "But when you mentioned him earlier I got the impression the two of you are friends."

Bas smiled and Jocelyn noticed each time he did so his dimples appeared and the cleft in his chin seemed even more profound. "We are. My brothers and I couldn't help but admire Cameron's accomplishments and give him the respect he's due. He earned everything he has, and he's built his empire by working hard. Anything he got he deserved. He is a hard man but fair. Once he saw that his attempt to take us over was futile, he pulled out and set his sights on another Steele-my cousin Vanessa. She heads our PR department. My brothers and I got over what Cameron tried to do and eventually became friends with him. However, Vanessa never could and as much as Cameron tried, he couldn't break through the barriers she had erected."

A half hour later, Jocelyn was returning Bas to the job site so he could get his car. It was almost ten o'clock. "You aren't thinking about going over to the office, are you?" she asked when she brought her truck to a stop next to his parked car.

He shook his head and chuckled. "No, not tonight. I think I'll go home and come up with a game plan to beat you at pinball the next go-round."

She returned his chuckle. "Come up with any game plan you want. The outcome will still be the same."

"We'll see."

She looked at him and said smartly, "Yes, we will will see." see."

More than anything Bas wanted to kiss her. He still had memories of their last kiss, but he wanted to replace them with new memories. "Maybe," he said, leaning a little closer to her across the truck's bench seats, "we should consider a wager."

"A wager?" she asked, her voice soft, low.

"Yes."

"Sorry, but I don't make bets."

"But what if it's for something you might like?" he asked, lifting his hand to cup her cheek and feeling glad that she didn't pull back.

"Like what?"

"You tell me. What is it you want?" he asked, leaning even closer and hearing her suck in a deep breath.

"How about letting me buy you out so you can leave here by the weekend?"

He shook his head and released an easy chuckle. "Sorry, can't do that. Think of something else."