“Just a second,” he called out, glancing at her to make sure she was fully covered. His eyes were a deep, dark gold. Surprise shimmered in their depths.
Surprise?
Because he’d kissed her, or because he’d liked it.
She didn’t have time to debate the answer before she tightened the clasp on her dress and Rance loosened his grip on the doorknob. Metal creaked and the outside world intruded. Deanie’s lust faded into a rush of anger as she stepped into the terminal and stared through the wall of windows that overlooked the boarding gate.
RANCE STOOD amid the hustle and bustle of the airport and let his gaze follow Deanie’s. He stared at the empty spot where their plane had sat, the stairs now pulled back and idle, and frowned. At least, he tried to stare at the empty spot, but his gaze kept straying to the woman next to him.
He’d kissed Deanie Codge.That fact didn’t bother him half as much as the fact that he’d kissed her and he’d liked it.
Obviously, a lot more than she had.
“…can’t be happening,” she murmured, her soft, panicked voice pushing past the whirlwind of his thoughts. “I have to check-in at Camp E.D.E.N. today or I’ll lose my Valentine’s Day discount.”
“It’s not Valentine’s Day until tomorrow.”
“That’s beside the point. The course runs through Valentine’s Day, and so they’re giving a discount. It officially starts today.” She glanced at her watch. “Check-in is less than an hour. And the first workshop is right after that.”
“So you miss it. So what?”
“I can’t just miss it. I paid for it. I need it…”
She was totally oblivious to him. To the fact that he’d kissed her senseless only minutes ago. To the fact that he was standing next to her and it was taking everything he had not to reach for her again.
He’d meant to teach her a lesson. To show her that he was every bit as good as his reputation maintained. Even more, to turn the tables and remind her that she wanted him.
She always had.
Then.
And now?
While she’d responded as if she still did, she’d managed to forget all about it in the face of their departed plane. As if she kissed and felt up men every day of the week. As if it hadn’t been that big of a deal.
The notion stuck in Rance’s craw as he followed her toward the desk at the boarding gate.
“We just missed our flight,” Deanie told the attendant. “You have to call it back.”
“I’m afraid we can’t do that, miss. They’ve already taken off.”
“Then put me on the next connecting flight,” she said.
“Us,” Rance cut in. “Put us on the next connecting flight.”
“No problem.” The woman tapped away at her computer keyboard for several seconds before a triumphant smile lit her face. “That will put you on Flight 1156 coming from Miami.”
“When does it get here?”
“At three-fifteen.”
“That’s not so bad,” Rance told her as he glanced at his watch. “You shouldn’t miss more than one workshop. Two at the most.”
“Three-fifteen tomorrow.”
“But I need to be there today.”
“I’m sorry, miss. There are no more flights today.” She gave a brilliant smile. “But the airline will be happy to put you up at the island’s main resort until your connecting flight arrives tomorrow. The resort is nearly full, but we reserve a few extra rooms for this sort of mishap. People miss flights all the time. Someone’s always taking sick or getting stuck in the snack bar line. There was even this time when a woman actually fell asleep in the ladies’ room—she suffered from that sleep disorder where you just conk out with no advance warning. Anyhow, we’re fully prepared to deal with these situations.”
“What about a boat? Can’t I take a boat to the next island?”
“This is an airline, miss. Not a marina.”
“But—” Deanie protested.
“Thanks,” Rance cut in, taking the new flight itinerary that the attendant handed them. “We appreciate your help.”
“Says you.” Deanie turned on him, her gaze hard and glittering. He’d kissed away her pink lip gloss in the closet. Her lips were full and pouty. Or they would have been if she wasn’t wearing such a tight frown. “This is all your fault.”
He could argue that one. She’d turned him on with her sudden cold shoulder after all those years of panting after him, a calculated move to stir his interest if he’d ever seen one. On top of that, she’d insulted his expertise, no doubt knowing full well he’d be hard-pressed to prove her wrong.
Why, she’d practically begged for that kiss.
That’s what he told himself. He just wasn’t so sure he believed it, especially since she was currently staring daggers at him.
“Let’s go.” He took the complimentary room passes the attendant handed him and steered her around. He did his damnedest to ignore the warm pull of heat at his fingertips as he steered her through the small airport as fast as he could manage without running someone down.
He needed out of there. He needed some fresh air. He needed a cold shower.
What he didn’t need was another trip to the storage closet.
But man-o-man, did he want one.
RANCE WATCHED DEANIE walk toward the cab that waited at the curb. Sunlight drenched her, outlining her petite figure clad in the hot pink sundress.
An honest-to-god figure, with enough curves and indentations to make his mouth water.Not that he’d ever doubted she actually had one. He’d just never really thought about it until that night at the creek.
Up until then, she’d been Teeny Deanie. His buddy’s kid sister. His personal pain-in-the-ass.
Speaking of asses…
His gaze hooked on the gentle sway of her tight, round bottom beneath the short pink dress and his stomach hollowed out. For a split second, he imagined bending her over, peeling the dress up and sinking his fingers into her soft pale flesh. He imagined sinking something else into her, as well, and his groin throbbed its agreement. He licked his lips and tasted sweet, sugary candy and something else. Something rich and potent that made his gut ache for another taste.
“I have no intention of tagging along after you.”
Her words echoed in his head as he watched her fold herself into the cab and pull the door shut behind her, and he frowned. She was telling the truth. While he’d tried to convince himself that her indifference had just been an act to stir his interest, he knew better.
While she was still attracted to him—there was no mistaking her response to his kiss—she didn’t want to be attracted to him.
She wanted to start a new life.
To put the past behind her.
To forget him and, from the way she motioned for the cab driver to take off, make him walk from the small airport to the resort.
He picked up his steps as bitterness swirled inside him and made his throat tight.
Forget him?
After all they’d shared, she wanted to chuck it all and wipe the slate clean. Hell, she didn’t even seem to give a lick that he’d broken his leg not four months ago and was, most likely, in some serious pain with all this walking.
Okay, so they hadn’t actually shared anything, except a few cookies, the occasional slice of cake and the every-now-and-then bag of his favorite jawbreakers. But that had been his fault. He’d resisted her advances and done his best to discourage her, at least romantically. He’d had nothing against talking to her when she sat next to him on the bus or showed up on his doorstep.
Christ, he’d liked talking to her.
There’d been no need to search for the right words to try to impress her. She’d liked him anyway. Even more, she’d listened and understood everything he’d had to say.
And even the stuff he hadn’t been able to say.
He could still remember the time he’d been shooting marbles with a group of boys in the schoolyard. She’d been in the first gra
de and he’d been in the fifth, and she’d just started following him around. He’d had the biggest collection of marbles out of all the boys, and he’d been dead certain he was good enough to keep them.
He’d been wrong.
There had been a new kid at school and he’d been better. Rance had lost all of his marbles that day, and most of the ones that belonged to his two brothers.
Rance remembered crying only two times in his life. That had been the first time. He’d gone home and bawled his eyes out. He’d been bawling, as a matter of fact, when Deanie had come knocking. She’d held a great big bag of jawbreakers in her small hands.
“Jawbreakers?” He swiped at his tears and sniffled.
“For the ones you lost,” she told him.
“They weren’t jawbreakers, doofus. They were marbles. I can’t shoot jawbreakers.”
She frowned as she stared at the bag, as if thinking hard for the first time. And then she smiled and popped one into her mouth. “No, but you can eat them.”
She held the bag out to him and he had the urge to tell her to get lost. But something about the way she looked at him, her blue eyes warm and full of understanding, made him want to reach out.
He took a jawbreaker and popped it into his mouth. Cherry exploded on his tongue and he smiled, too.
She’d been there the second time in his life when he’d cried, as well. He’d been sixteen then and he’d just lost both his parents. He’d barely arrived home after the double funeral before the townsfolk had started to arrive. They’d brought everything from ham to casseroles. Miss Jackie had brought her famous red velvet cake and Miss Myrtle had brought homemade bread and strawberry preserves. But he hadn’t had an appetite for any of it. He’d felt sick inside. Empty. Dead.
And then he’d opened the door to find Deanie standing there with a great big bag of jawbreakers. She hadn’t said a word. No “I’m sorry for your loss” or “Let me know if I can do anything.” She’d just stared at him with her bright blue eyes and popped a candy into her mouth. Then she’d handed the bag to him.
He’d done the same and while he’d sucked the cherry coating off, he’d actually felt better.
As the memories swirled in his head, he couldn’t help the sudden feeling that maybe he’d been a genuine dumb ass back then. Maybe Deanie had been the perfect girl and he just hadn’t been able to see past her T-shirts, baggy jeans or mud-covered cowboy boots.
Maybe he shouldn’t have walked away that night down by the creek.
And maybe your pride’s just hurt, buddy.
Maybe. Probably.
There was only one way to prove it.
If the lust eating him up from the inside out was the result of his wounded ego, it would fade once he and Deanie had a good, old-fashioned roll in the hay. Then she could get on with her “education” and he could stop thinking those damnable what-ifs.
And if it didn’t?
As soon as the question struck, Rance squashed it. It would. He had his flaws, but he couldn’t have been that blind. Any more than he could have said yes to her that night. She’d been too young and he’d been too old, and it just wouldn’t have been right.
He picked up his steps, careful to add a nice, pained looking limp to his gait, and called out. “Wait up!”
She turned toward him and he caught her stare.
Suspicion glimmered in her true blue gaze, but not before he’d seen the flash of concern. She said something to the driver, leaned over and shoved open the door.
Rance grinned and climbed in next to her.
4
DEANIE WANTED to strangle him.
The moment they were out of the cab, and out of sight of any witnesses, she intended to slide her hands around his strong, taut, tanned throat and squeeze. Her fingers flexed from the memory of his warm skin beneath her fingertips and anticipation zipped along her nerve endings.Forget strangling. She needed a noncontact, long-distance way to do him in. Guilt snuck through her for a split second. After all, this was Rance. Her one and only. The man.
Then, she reminded herself.
So what if he’d shared his lunch with her the time she’d forgotten hers? Or that he’d been the first boy—nonrelative, that is—she’d ever danced with? Or that he’d always jumped in when anyone bigger had been picking on her? Heck, he’d even jumped in when one of her own brothers had given her a hard time.
Not that she’d needed his interference. She’d had a right hook her brothers had feared.
But it had felt good when he’d taken up for her.
She slid a sideways glance at him and his stare caught hers. His lips tilted in a knowing grin and a rush of heat bolted through her. Only a few feet of vinyl separated them in the small cab. She could feel the heat from his body. Smell the delicious aroma of fresh air, clean soap and confidence that was all Rance McGraw.
He was confident, all right. He’d intentionally screwed up her plans.
For now. But in twenty-four hours, she was climbing back onto that plane and continuing with her trip. Regardless of what he had up his sleeve.
Or in his pants.
She remembered the feel of his groin pressed into her stomach and her nipples pebbled.
Bad nipples.
She inched closer to the door, rolled down the window and let the island breeze cool her hot cheeks. Her mind rewinded back to her earlier train of thought. Murder. Noncontact.
Maybe a gun. Or even a rock. She had had a pretty good aim with a slingshot way back when. Her oldest brother, Cory, still had a scar where she’d nailed him when he’d been taunting her from his tree house. He’d been twelve and she’d been five—too young to actually climb up—and so she’d fired away. He’d squawked and hit the ground like a sack of potatoes.
She smiled at the memory.
“What are you thinking?” Rance asked.
“Of effective ways to eliminate you.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” She leveled a stare at him and focused on the aggravation bubbling inside her. “I don’t like being manipulated.”
“It was a kiss, Teeny.”
“To manipulate me into changing my mind about this trip, which I’m not going to do. You can just call Clay, tell him I’m a big girl and that I don’t need a babysitter.”
Silence settled between them for several long moments as they sped down the palm tree-lined road that led to the island’s one and only resort. She fixed her gaze on the passing landscape and tried to tune out his presence.
“You really are mad, aren’t you?” he finally asked.
“Yes.”
“Hey,” he grinned and leaned toward her as if he’d just thought of some great secret that would make everything better. “You remember that time Bobby McFarland climbed onto the bus with that hunk of dry ice in his lunch kit? He dumped his soda on it and it started smoking, and the bus driver thought he’d started a fire. So we were stranded.”
A smile tugged at her lips. It had been sort of funny.
They’d all sat on the side of the road until Romeo’s one and only fire truck had rolled up to examine the situation—the driver had been freaked out and had ordered everyone to evacuate the bus. She’d refused to walk back on and assess the “fire” herself. They’d been three hours late to school that day.
One of the best days of Deanie’s life.
Not only had she missed her fourth grade spelling test she hadn’t had time to study for, but she’d spent the extra time playing tic-tac-toe with Rance. And talking. And laughing.
Since none of her brothers had been on the bus with her that morning—two had been home with the flu and the other three had had to go in early to work on various projects—Deanie had had Rance’s complete attention. While there had been a dozen other kids to choose from, he’d sat with her.
He’d liked her.
But he hadn’t liked her. She hadn’t been pretty enough or girlie enough to stir anything more than friendship, and so he’d never so much as kissed her
.
Until now.
Her gaze fell to her lap where she’d placed her hands. They looked pale against the hot pink material. She tried to wiggle her toes, but the high heels hugged her feet too tight. She drew in a deep breath and felt her breasts press against the snug bodice.
She certainly looked different now, but she wasn’t foolish enough to think it had sparked his sudden interest.
“At least we’re stranded smack dab in the middle of paradise this time,” his deep voice drew her from her thoughts before she could think too hard about the question.
“The Travel Channel’s Number One Caribbean Hot Spot,” the driver chimed in from the front seat.
“That’s right,” Rance added. “Number one spot.”
“Whatever you like—scuba, snorkeling, fishing, waterskiing—the hotel can hook you up,” the driver added. “And don’t forget to try The Falls.”
“What’s that?” Rance asked.
“A five star restaurant built around a natural waterfall fed lagoon. They’ve got the best stuffed crabs around and they make a great pineapple margarita.”
“You could definitely use one of those,” Rance told Deanie. “You’re much too uptight.”
“I’m not uptight. I’m angry,” she reminded him. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m supposed to be somewhere else right now. Doing something else. With someone else.”
His grin disappeared and he drew his lips tight. “Sex.”
“Sex education,” she corrected, doing her best to ignore the flutter in her stomach when she saw the jealous light in his gaze.
Jealous? If only, a voice whispered.
She ignored a sudden burst of longing. “Camp E.D.E.N. is going to help me get in touch with my inner vixen. I need to unlock my sexuality to fully enjoy and experience it, and they’re going to give me the key—” Her words drowned in the shrill ring of a cell phone.
Rance held up a hand for her to hold on and pulled the slim silver contraption from his pocket. He punched the on button. “Yeah? No, don’t make the arrangements from San Antonio. I’ll be flying out from the Caribbean.” He grew silent for a few seconds as he listened. “I don’t know right now. I’ll let you know. Look, Shank, you’ve got to calm down about this stuff before you give yourself a heart attack.” Silence. “I’ve got something to take care of first, but I’ll be there. Have I ever let you down?” Obviously, the answer was no because the conversation ended without any more explanation.
Tall, Tanned & Texan Page 4