And don’t get her started on his biceps. They bulged every time he lifted his beer glass. She’d had to sit on her hands so she didn’t reach out and touch them.
Something about Maverick had her tongue-tied and butterflied.
Something new. Different. Appealing in a way she couldn’t stop thinking about. His quiet intensity called to her. His explanations and stories called to her. She’d thought she could fight her attraction to him, but every minute they were together made it harder and harder to remember why she’d ever disliked him.
Maverick paid for dinner, refusing to take the money she and Andrew offered. Hunter thanked his brother and, noticing a woman waving at him from the bar, asked if Maverick wouldn’t mind waiting a minute.
“Go, take your time,” Maverick said, “I’ll walk back.”
“Andrew!” Liam called out, two seats over from the woman getting Hunter’s attention.
“Mind?” Andrew asked, giving her a hopeful face.
“No. I’ll walk back with Maverick.” She turned to make sure that was cool, but the cowboy was already halfway to the door. “Bye!” she said to Andrew over her shoulder.
“Maverick, wait up.” She caught him on the sidewalk in front of The Last Word Bookstore. The stylish store with books and stationery in the window looked right up her alley, and she made a mental note to return before leaving Windsong. “Can I walk with you?”
He slowed his steps, and they walked in companionable silence.
“It smells like rain,” she said after they’d left Main Street and were on the road toward the inn. Darker here, sizable trees on both sides created an archway over the two-lane street. Old-fashioned iron columns with hanging lamps provided light, but they were spread far apart, so moonlight glowed in between. There were other people out, walking to and from the inn, their conversations and laughter echoing through the treetops.
“Good observation. If we don’t pick up the pace, we may get wet. Summer storms aren’t uncommon this time of year.”
She didn’t pick up the pace. In fact, she may have slowed a bit. “Are you afraid of a little rain, cowboy?”
He laughed. It hit her square in the chest, and she wished they were under a streetlight so she could get a good look at his dimples.
“It’s not me I’m worried about.”
“You think I can’t handle getting wet? Because I can. Contrary to what you might think, I won’t melt.” She only did that against him. With his arms around her. Which couldn’t happen again if she hoped to spare herself any more unwanted feelings.
Chapter Fifteen
Three days until the wedding
All Maverick heard was “getting wet” and his mind immediately went to the gutter. He pictured Kennedy in his house. In his bed. Where they’d put their mouths to good use on each other’s bodies, no talking allowed.
He gave a little shake of his head. No sense in going there. Besides the fact that they simply liked to goad each other, she’d be gone in a few days and his life would go back to normal. Normal being his quiet, controlled existence. No smart, interesting blondes allowed.
“I’m sure there’s nothing you can’t handle, Shortcake.” Truth right there. She’d been through not one, but two life-saving surgeries, dealt with her parents’ divorce, a jerk of an ex-boyfriend, and become a doctor. All with a positive attitude, as far as he could tell.
She glanced up at him in surprise. Yeah, he’d just confessed he thought highly of her. A compliment was due where a compliment was due. Especially after his somewhat chauvinistic remark about getting wet.
“Why do you do that?” she asked.
“Do what?”
“Act closed-off one minute and accessible the next. It’s really annoying.”
“You confuse me,” he said honestly. This was what a cold beer and delicious burger did to him: made him drop his guard. The sultry air and gorgeous woman who was an open book might have something to do with it, too.
And maybe, just maybe, he’d finally tired of fighting with her.
“You confuse me, too,” she admitted.
“Something we agree on,” he said lightly, even though his stomach tightened in anticipation of what their honesty meant.
“We have more in common than we thought.” Her statement was a simple one, but man, did it feel heavy. Significant. Because they did. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about it, other than still confused.
“Let’s not get carried away,” he teased, hoping to diminish the impact of her observation.
She laughed. “Okay, cowboy, I’ll be sure not to yank on your country card.”
“My country card?”
“Man card. Country card. Same thing in your case. And then I arrived and baffled you with my endearing city personality.”
It was his turn to laugh. Again. She said some funny things—things that made him feel lighter and apparently led to him smiling more. “It might surprise you to know I don’t think all city girls are bad.” Nicole had been a city girl. One he wouldn’t have allowed himself to fall for if it hadn’t been for Kennedy.
“Just me, then?” she teased.
“You do own a distinct place in my memory bank.”
“Spank bank?” she said, loud enough to be broadcast to anyone within a mile radius.
Looked like his mind wasn’t the only one diving to extracurricular activities. “I said memory bank.”
“Oh!”
“I like yours better, though.” And he liked the blush on her cheeks as they walked by a streetlight.
“Do you now?” she fired back.
He should have known she wouldn’t shy away from any topic. He imagined she’d been in all sorts of interesting situations in the emergency room. But that didn’t intrigue him nearly as much as her personal life suddenly did.
“I’m all for fun between two mutually consenting adults,” he said.
“You and fun? I’d like to see that.”
“Are you implying you want me to spank you?”
“No!” She gave him a playful push. “I like my bottom left alone, thank you very much.”
“What do you like, then?”
“We are not having this conversation.”
“Why not? You always want to talk.”
“Not about this.” She sounded so unwavering, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to push her further or let her off the hook. The latter was definitely easier, but the former had him wondering if he made her nervous. Had she thought about their kiss outside his house as often as he had?
“I was spanked once,” he said.
Her eyes narrowed like she didn’t believed him.
“I was seven and it was my birthday party. I didn’t want to do it, but Cole called me a baby, so I did. Seven swats and one for good luck.”
She giggled. “I thought that tradition died a really long time ago.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it was something my brother cooked up. I got him back on his birthday, though. My mom made him an Oreo cookie cake the night before, and I snuck out of bed and replaced all the cream fillings with toothpaste. It took a long time but was the best revenge ever.”
“You little devil. Was your mom angry?”
“She was. I had to buy him a new cake with my own money, but it was worth it.”
His hand brushed hers, and he fought the urge to lace their fingers together. To further connect them. This wasn’t a date. It wasn’t anything special. Yet the air rustled around them with potential…because he didn’t normally do this. He didn’t spend a lot of time alone with women other than his mom and sister.
The hermit thing is getting old, Hunter had said the other morning. And while true, it didn’t change the person he was: a loner with wanderlust. He couldn’t wait to hop on an airplane next week for a myriad of reasons.
It’s past time y
ou allowed yourself some fun, Hunt had told him, too.
“What’s your favorite kind of cake?” Kennedy asked, the intrusion on his thoughts welcome.
“I’m more of a pie guy.”
“What’s your favorite pie?”
“Apple.”
“I had a feeling you’d say that. You seem like a traditional guy. I bet you like it cold without any ice cream.”
She was right. He shrugged. “What’s your favorite?”
“I’m a cake girl all the way. White cake with buttercream frosting.”
“A traditional cake girl,” he said.
Their eyes met. “Yeah, I guess I am.” A raindrop plopped onto her cheek. Then another. “Uh-oh.”
In the time it took to blink, sheets of rain started to pour down on them. He took her hand and ran for quick cover. The bright lights of the inn shimmered too far away, so he aimed for the giant weeping willow at the foot of the property. Most storms this time of year lasted all of ten minutes, so they could wait it out there. There was nothing like getting stuck in a rainstorm on a warm summer night, and he imagined it a first for Kennedy.
She kept up with his pace without complaint, not an easy feat in her boots. The boots and her knee-length sundress were a killer combination. One he’d tried to ignore, but now the dress stuck to her body, outlining every gorgeous curve. He refocused back on the sidewalk in front of them, fearing he might trip over his own feet.
They reached the tree slightly out of breath, humidity making it harder to take in oxygen. Or maybe that was just him and his reaction to her.
Under the canopy of the willow, they caught their breath. She put a hand on the tree trunk for support, and he couldn’t help himself—he looked her up and down, lingering on the material clinging to her thighs, her breasts. He didn’t even care that she caught him blatantly checking her out.
Drenched from head to toe, she looked magnificent.
And when she returned the favor, her gaze remaining on his chest and abs before taking a leisurely stroll back up to his face, he’d had enough. He couldn’t think straight around her and he didn’t want to.
All he wanted was to be closer to her.
She stood on a wide, thick tree root, placing them at similar heights. He erased the space between them slowly but surely, giving her time to retreat. She didn’t. Not even a little. Instead, she slicked her wet hair away from her face and twisted so that she leaned back against the tree, her arms spread against the trunk behind her.
An invitation.
Encouragement.
Temptation he could no longer deny himself.
He caged her in with his body, one hand going to her waist, the other to her chin to tip her face up exactly where he wanted it. Their first kiss had been tentative. Their second kiss would leave no doubt as to how much he desired her. He might never admit it, but he could show her…
Hidden under the pendulous branches of the weeping willow while the sound of the rain trilled its sweet yet powerful tune, he could show her how much he craved her.
“Mav,” she whispered. She’d never called him by his nickname before.
His blood pounded at the tender sound of her voice, at the confirmation that she wanted him, too. Knowing that whatever he felt she echoed demolished any doubt about what he planned to do.
“Kennedy,” he whispered back. There was more to say. Things like, You’re beautiful. You make me forget everything around me. I’m sorry for treating you like I did in college. But there was no point. They had right now. A couple more days. And then they’d never see each other again.
“Kiss me,” she said.
He slid two fingers to her mouth, gently rubbed them across her soft, full lower lip, parting the top from the bottom and bringing a sigh from her he felt all the way down to his toes. He’d never heard anything sweeter.
With her eyes locked on his, he traced her cheek next, the tips of his fingers tingling from the gentle contact. One second passed. Two. And then his lips descended on hers like she was the only thing to satiate his desire. His need. He lightly bit her bottom lip, tugged and teased, before sliding his tongue inside her mouth.
As expected, their tongues dueled for dominance, for control, for the freedom to finally let go and surrender to each other. This kiss was unlike any other he’d ever experienced. Openmouthed. Powerful. Unforgettable. Rain fell around them in sheets, and he hoped it never let up.
Tomorrow he’d blame the weather.
Tonight he’d forget there was a tomorrow. The only thing that mattered to him right now was Kennedy and her mind-blowing kiss.
Her hands slid up his pecs and over his shoulders. He cupped the back of her head. Her body pressed against his and then she jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist. He somehow managed to keep his balance as he wrapped an arm around her and stepped back onto even ground. The new position left them exposed to the rain.
They didn’t care.
They kissed until the rain stopped.
As if the time limit on their make-out session expired the second the rain did, Kennedy lifted her head, unlocked her legs, and slid down his body, righting the skirt of her dress once her boots hit the ground.
His heart pounded, and for some reason, he wanted her to know that. He took her hand and placed her palm on his chest. Water droplets clung to her eyelashes. Her honeycomb irises glittered.
She took his hand and placed his palm on her chest. Their heartbeats were in sync. A perfect yet flawed rhythm. They stood like that, frozen in time, in their own heads. Staring. Back to playing one of their favorite games.
Maverick looked away first.
By unspoken agreement, they resumed walking toward the inn as if that kiss hadn’t just rocked their world. It happened, but whatever thoughts they might have on the matter were to be kept private.
He was fine with that. Appreciated it.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked, running his fingers through his wet hair to comb it off his forehead.
She fanned her dress away from her stomach. “No plans that I know of. Except…”
“Except what?”
“I got the interview in Boston. It’s on Tuesday, and I thought I might do some research on the hospital so I’m more than prepared for anything they might throw at me.”
His heart took a little beating at the news. He’d…miss her. Ridiculous, given she was leaving the ranch regardless of the job. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks. I’m beyond excited.”
“I’m happy for you, Shortcake.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” she chided good-naturedly. “I can’t take any more irresistible Maverick tonight. What’s going on tomorrow?”
Irresistible, huh? “I thought we could go out on the lake, but if you’re worried about jumping my bones again, we can skip it.”
“I did not—” She caught herself and he chuckled. Because she had just climbed him like a tree. Not that he was complaining. “Do you mean canoe?”
“Yes. If you want the whole ranch experience, canoeing on the lake is part of it.”
“You’re not going to tip it over or push me out, are you?”
“You do know how to swim, right?”
“Yes, I know how to swim.”
“Then what are you worried about?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“No, I won’t tip it or push you out. Now, if you tip it or accidentally fall overboard, then I can’t be held responsible.”
“Maverick!”
He loved riling her up. “Hey, just stating a fact. I’ll do my part, but you’ve got to do yours.”
“Meaning?”
“Follow my directions. Think you can do that?”
“How about this? I drive my own canoe and you drive yours.”
He almost burst out
laughing. “You don’t drive a canoe, you paddle it. And if you think you can handle one on your own, that’s fine with me.”
“I absolutely can,” she asserted, her determination so damn attractive, he couldn’t wait to see her in action. Did he think she could manage it on her own? Not necessarily. But only because she was a complete novice. She’d do great for a minute, maybe two, before her arms grew tired. And if he wanted them to paddle out to the sand bar in the middle of the lake, well, that might be pushing it. He’d play it by ear.
The inn rose in front of them like the brightest ornament on a Christmas tree. Voices floated from inside, and he pictured his mom’s homemade desserts spread out in the living room for guests to enjoy before bedtime.
“Thanks for walking me back,” she said, coming to a stop near the foot of the staircase. “And for dinner. I have to admit, the food in Windsong is really good.”
“You’re welcome.” He grinned. “Eleven a.m. tomorrow—meet me at the lake. It’s about a ten-minute walk from here to the small dock where the canoes are.”
“Okay.” She zeroed in on his wet T-shirt before her attention bounced back up to his eyes. The thin cotton remained plastered to his torso. Much like her clothes were. Hands down, she won sexiest look.
Not that he was memorizing every curve and angle of her womanly shape or anything.
“Okay,” he said back to her.
Neither made a motion to move, though, until she shivered. It wasn’t because of him. She was cold, damn it, and he stood there staring at her like a damn teenager.
“Guests don’t know this, but my mom makes a mean spiked hot chocolate. I bet she’d whip one up for you. Let her know I recommended it.”
“Mmm. I will, thanks.”
“’Welcome. See you tomorrow.” He forced himself to walk away.
“Good night,” she called out.
He waved over his shoulder, not daring to turn around and be tempted to join her in a drink. Or another kiss. Because she might be a good swimmer, but he was in danger of drowning.
The Wedding Crasher and the Cowboy Page 16