by Lori Wilde
He chuckled, enjoying having Megan this close to him, even though he knew he shouldn’t. “You? Chicken out? Couldn’t happen.”
She leaned even closer to him, the sweet scent of her citrus shampoo filling his lungs. “Well, if you don’t expect me to chicken out, then that means you figure if I give you a real kiss, fireworks won’t go off. After that I’ll give up and forget the whole thing.”
The lady knew him well, but he wasn’t going to admit it. “Maybe.”
“Maybe my foot.” For a second, she assessed him. Then, her expression turned smug. “Okay, cowboy, hold on to your hat.”
Chase figured he was prepared for anything she could dish out, but he hadn’t counted on Megan half crawling into his lap, cupping his face in her small hands, and kissing him hard.
She almost knocked him off balance with the impact, and out of necessity, he placed his hands on her waist to keep them from toppling over. But if Megan noticed their position, she made no comment. She was too busy kissing him.
And kissing him.
And kissing him.
It took every bit of his resolve to keep from kissing her back. He hadn’t expected his body to respond to her the way it was, as if he’d been dying of thirst for a very long time and she was giving him sustenance.
But he knew she was wrong about this. So what if her kisses were setting his blood on fire? He’d been alone for some time, and Megan was soft and sweet.
“Kiss me back, Chase,” she murmured against his lips. “Just this once. Kiss me back.”
He shifted his head, so his lips pressed against her cheek. “I don’t think so.”
Megan squirmed against him until he groaned and stopped her. Through the thinness of her robe, he could feel how soft and warm her body was. His experiment ranked right up there with Dr. Frankenstein’s. He’d created a monster, and he had no idea how much longer he could hold out.
“Give me one real kiss, Chase,” Megan whispered again. “If it doesn’t drive us both wild, then I’ll stop flirting with you. I promise.”
At this point, Chase figured the sooner they got this experiment over with, the better. Finally, even though he knew he was making one humongous mistake, he relented.
“Fine,” he said. “One kiss.”
Megan rewarded him with a dimpled smile. “Thank you.”
This time when she leaned forward and kissed him, he buried his hands in her hair, damned his own soul, and kissed her back.
5
Chase’s kiss was every bit as perfect as Megan had known it would be.
Maybe even a little bit more perfect than expected, since his kiss alone was enough to shoot her libido sky-high. She’d never kissed anyone before who made her want to toss him to the ground and take wanton advantage of him.
But she sure wanted to with Chase.
Instead, she settled for this kiss, this one chance to show Chase just how amazing they were together. Without waiting for him to take the initiative, Megan touched the tip of her tongue to his bottom lip. Joy rushed through her when he complied with her silent request by parting his lips. Now they were getting somewhere.
For long, languid minutes, they lost themselves in a kiss that was so much more than the mere meeting of lips. It was fireworks, shooting stars, and magic all rolled into one. Megan was positive that Chase felt the electricity dance between them every bit as much as she did. How could he not? They were meant to be together.
With a loud groan, Chase finally broke the kiss. He opened his eyes and stared at her. He looked totally dazed, with maybe a touch of horrified thrown in, sort of like he’d just been kicked in the head by his favorite horse.
He was stunned.
Good.
Stunned she could work with. Megan smiled, offering him reassurance. She appreciated that their situation was new to Chase. He hadn’t had a lot of time to adjust to the idea of being more than just friends. No doubt the incendiary nature of the kiss had been a surprise to him.
“That was something else,” she said, caressing the side of his face with the gentlest of touches.
Chase leaned away from her hand. Then he cleared his throat. Twice. And blinked. Twice.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He jerked his head in what she assumed was a nod. Then he made an incomprehensible response that sounded like “urpuft,” and shifted her so she no longer straddled his lap. Once she was off him, he stood so quickly he almost seemed to shoot off the couch. “I gotta go.”
Not exactly the reaction she’d hoped for, but certainly understandable.
“Okay.” She gave him another encouraging smile.
He ran his hands through his hair and blew out a loud breath. Then he turned and stared at her, desire still heating his blue gaze. “Megan, about that kiss...”
Her heart rate quickened. She knew he was going to tell her how wonderful, how incredible, how miraculous the kiss had been. Maybe he’d ask her to kiss him again. “Yes?”
He cleared his throat again. “That kiss was what I thought it would be. Don’t get me wrong—it was okay. A good kiss between friends. But like I said, there’s no chemistry between us, so it didn’t exactly rock the world.”
Openmouthed, Megan stared at him. What? The man had lost his mind. No chemistry? He knew that wasn’t true.
Her gut reaction was to argue with him, to point out as nicely as possible that he was full of hooey. But her instincts warned her that was the wrong approach. She shut her mouth, understanding flowing through her. Chase needed time. She’d pushed him too hard, too fast. No wonder he was denying what was obvious.
She’d read a book last week that talked about this exact situation—Fit to be Tied. According to the author, even when a man was ready for a lasting relationship, old habits often died hard. These men lied about their feelings, even to themselves. Sometimes the lies were tiny. Sometimes they weren’t.
In Chase’s case, he was telling himself a whopper of a lie. A gargantuan lie. As his friend, it was her duty to help him face the truth. To do that, she needed to give him time to adjust to the inferno they’d generated when they’d kissed. Time for him to accept reality.
The best approach as far as she could tell was to go along with his cockamamie statement that the kiss had been nothing special. So to help him in the long run, she’d agree.
Unfolding herself from the couch, she stood. “You’re right. The kiss wasn’t a big deal. At least now we know that kissing each other is like sucking on a dead fish.”
Chase frowned, but at least her statement seemed to snap him out of the daze he’d been in. “A dead fish? Hold on there, Megan. I didn’t say it wasn’t enjoyable. Just that it...you know, we’re friends. It was a kiss between friends.”
Megan bit back a smile at his defensive tone. Please. Friends only kissed that way if they were about to have wild and crazy sex. Enjoyable was the understatement of the year, but once again, she didn’t argue.
“True. It was a simple little kiss between friends. I realize now how silly I was to expect fireworks between us. It was pleasant, but I’ve certainly had better.”
That got him. Megan had never seen anyone manage to frown on top of an already existing frown, but Chase pulled it off. Megan resisted the impulse to tell him that his face might freeze like that. Instead, she focused all her attention on getting him to believe her ridiculous lie. Chase knew as well as she did that neither of them had ever experienced a kiss remotely as fantastic.
He folded his arms across his chest. “The kiss was a mite better than pleasant.”
Keeping her tone light and casual, she said, “I guess. A little bit, maybe.” When he opened his mouth, presumably to argue with her, Megan hurriedly added, “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get my rest. Tomorrow is a busy day.”
“You’re kicking me out?”
The smile she’d been holding back broke free. She ended up grinning like a schoolgirl. “You need to go home now. Have a nice night.”
Without
waiting for him to follow her, she led the way to her front door. Opening it, she watched him walk out, her smile only growing as he passed by her muttering about women and the water and the world in general.
“Drive safely,” she told Chase, feeling positively delighted with how the evening had turned out. Tonight, Chase had kissed her. Really kissed her. And fireworks had happened, even if he wasn’t ready to admit they’d been anything more than sparklers.
She and Chase were perfect together. Just as she’d known they would be.
Things could only get better from here.
This was a disaster. A full-fledged, the-barn’s-on fire disaster. Chase sat in his truck, still parked outside Megan’s house. He watched her turn off the lights in the living room. She was going to bed, and he hated the fact that he wanted to join her in that bed.
He really, really wanted to join her in that bed. But it couldn’t—make that wouldn’t—happen. He rubbed his forehead as frustration crept up his spine and crouched in his neck muscles.
Man, why had he agreed to that kiss? He was smarter than that. He’d stepped right into that trap like a blind fool. Now his life was even more catawampus than it had been before, and he had no one to blame but himself.
But come on, how was he supposed to know a simple kiss from Megan would shake him right down to his boots? That heat and desire and good-old want would flare to the point that he felt as if he’d literally caught on fire?
And what had she meant with that crack about having had better kisses? That was physically impossible. No one had ever had a better kiss than the one they’d shared.
Maybe it had been a fluke. He’d been Megan’s friend for a long, long time. If they truly did have that kind of amazing chemistry between them, he would have felt it before now, right? So the kiss had to be a fluke.
But even knowing the combustible kiss had been a fluke didn’t change the simple fact that he needed to be reasonable about this. They had to ignore this aberration in their friendship. His brothers had been wrong. Dead wrong. He needed to squash this attraction he felt toward Megan like a big old spider. No evasion. No hesitation.
He started his truck and backed out of Megan’s driveway. When he’d put a couple of miles between them, he felt much better. Now, with the sizzle from the kiss gone, he was positive it had been a fluke. So, with a little effort, he could put it behind him.
By tomorrow, he and Megan would be back to their usual friendship, and this kissing nonsense would be over. They’d once again be pals, hanging around together, sharing jokes, kidding each other.
But no more kissing. From this point on, the two of them were going to keep their lips to themselves.
Megan glanced over the new books she needed to catalog. Two romances, a mystery, an assortment of children’s books, and three new self-help books. Two of them dealt with child-rearing, something she currently had no use for, but with any luck, would someday soon.
The last book caught her eye—Browbeating for the Naturally Shy. Now there was something she could use. Not that she intended on browbeating Chase, but she did need to be more assertive, especially now. No doubt Chase intended on avoiding any more physical contact with her, which of course would make getting him to kiss her again a bit of a challenge. But she needed him to kiss her again so he could see that the fire of the first kiss hadn’t been a one-time wonder.
She opened her desk drawer and pulled out a stack of index cards. What she needed was a plan.
“You’re handling him all wrong,” Leigh said as she breezed into the office.
Megan glanced up. The younger woman stood just inside the doorway with her hands on her hips, a frown on her pretty face. Seems like all Megan did these days was cause members of the Barrett family to frown at her.
“What are you talking about?” Megan asked.
Leigh dropped into the chair facing Megan’s desk. “Chase. You’re handling him all wrong.”
“I’m not handling him at all,” she told Leigh.
“Sure, you are. You’re trying to trap him—”
“No, I’m not.”
Leigh groaned. “Fine. You’re trying to lure him—”
Megan was the one to groan this time. “Leigh, I’m not trying to handle, trap, or lure your brother into anything.”
Leaning forward, Leigh said, “Call it whatever you want, but you want to make my brother fall in love with you. Right?”
An unsettling feeling lodged in Megan’s stomach. She sincerely didn’t want to trick Chase into anything. She believed in being forthright and honest at all times. She’d never try something so completely underhanded.
She glanced at the blank index cards sitting in front of her and inwardly cringed. But those cards were for a plan, and a plan was different than a trap, right? Just because she wanted to think of ways to make Chase notice her as a woman didn’t mean she was trapping him.
Did it?
She looked at Leigh. “I’m not trying to make your brother fall in love with me. I’m hoping that our friendship and affection for each other can grow naturally into something deeper and more profound.”
For a moment, Leigh stared at her. Then she made a snorting noise and said, “Pig slop.”
“It is not pig slop. It’s how I feel.”
“Megan, hon, I love you like a sister, but there’re a couple of things wrong with what you said. First up, you got Chase on your committee so you could try to get him to fall for you.”
Megan sat up straighter in her chair. “Excuse me, Leigh, but I didn’t get Chase on my committee, you did. You backed him into a corner, so he had no choice but to agree to help.”
Leigh waved one hand. “Semantics. You. Me. It doesn’t really matter. All that matters is that he was forced onto your committee.”
Megan sighed. Leigh was...well, Leigh. The woman could make a tornado seem tame by comparison. And to be completely honest, regardless of who had gotten him on the committee, Megan was thrilled he’d ended up there. Moreover, Leigh was right. She did intend on using the committee as a way to spend more time with him.
But that didn’t mean she was luring, trapping, or tricking the man. She was simply giving him lots of opportunities to realize his feelings for her.
Megan frowned. Maybe she wasn’t being quite as forthright with Chase as she thought, but she wasn’t handling him. Images of last night flashed in her brain. Okay, she’d handled him somewhat last night, but not in the way Leigh meant.
With another sigh, this time directed at herself, Megan looked at her friend. “Why are you here?”
Leigh chuckled. “Got you tangled up, huh?” When Megan didn’t respond, she continued, “I’m here because Chase is being a colossal pain today. Whatever you did to him last night has got him stomping around muttering about you.”
That didn’t sound good. “Muttering about me? Is he angry?”
“Can’t tell. I’ve never seen him like this. He’s jumpy and snarly. Chase is the most easygoing guy in the world. Usually I have to hold a mirror in front of his face to make sure he’s still alive. But not today. Today he’s more jittery than a werewolf in a silver-bullet factory.”
Megan turned this information over in her mind. Jumpy, snarly, and jittery didn’t sound like Chase. Not at all. Maybe this was a good sign. Maybe the kiss had thrown him for a loop, and he didn’t know what to make of it. Maybe this was the first step in Chase coming to terms with his feelings for her. This could be a very good sign.
Then again, maybe it was the first step in him deciding to never see her again. Maybe he was so mad at her that he’d never want to see her again. Uh-oh. This could be a really bad, bad sign. Leigh sat staring at her, obviously expecting her to say something. Unclear what the younger woman wanted to hear, Megan settled for, “Sorry he’s grumpy.”
“Grumpy? He’s a lot more than grumpy. He told me this morning that we have too many toothpicks in the house. Toothpicks, Megan. He’s talking about toothpicks.”
“And that means?�
� Megan asked, trying to understand what could possibly have bothered Chase about toothpicks.
Leigh rolled her eyes. “Heck if I know. He’s not himself. At first, I thought you’d managed to shake him up, and that he’d finally get a clue about how he feels about you. Now I’m not so sure. Chase can be stubborn. He may ricochet the other way and decide the safest approach is not to have anything to do with you.”
Megan felt as if her heart dropped to her shoes. Surely Leigh wasn’t right. “He’ll probably calm down soon.”
Leigh leaned forward. “Just in case he doesn’t, let me give you a hand in getting him to fall for you.”
No way. Leigh was a walking, talking trouble magnet. Her interference would only upset the precarious balance Megan had created with Chase. These things needed to be handled delicately, and the word delicate wasn’t in Leigh’s vocabulary.
“I appreciate your offer, but I want to handle this myself,” Megan told her. “I realize I may have confused your brother, but I still believe if he’s given enough time, he’ll come to see we’re meant to be together.”
Leigh tipped her head and studied Megan. “You honestly believe that, don’t you?”
“I certainly do. I think Chase will respond best if I approach him with honesty and compassion.”
Leigh bobbed her head, but Megan suspected she wasn’t really listening. The younger woman simply waited until Megan finished speaking, then blurted, “I’ll tell you what Chase will respond to. You call him up, tell him you need to talk to him about the fundraiser, then you show up at the ranch wearing racy undies and holding a can of whipped cream. The boy will come around real quick after that.” Leigh’s smile turned devilish. “If he doesn’t keel over from a heart attack, he’ll be yours for life.”
Megan’s mouth dropped open about halfway through Leigh’s suggestion and refused to shut no matter how hard she tried. Racy underwear? Whipped cream?