by Siera London
“I could join you, if you'd like?”
Why did she seem so hesitant, like he had to approve her every move?
“That would be great.”
Initially, they ate in companionable silence. She had to be the first woman he'd met that didn’t chat up the quiet with the person sitting next to her. Refusing to force her to talk, Cutler grabbed the television remote from the rotating holder on the floor and pressed on.
Sports Center's Chris Berman’s voice filled the room. He was prepared to turn the channel, when the she spoke.
“Can't believe Cleveland lost that game.”
Cutler nearly dropped his plate. If Kendall Raine was a sports lover, he was in real danger of falling hard.
“You like sports?”
“Just basketball, football, and baseball.”
He grinned. “Woman, you're a keeper.”
She laughed. “You're so easy.”
“You have no idea,” he teased. In fact, during the course of their conversation it had gotten easier for him to stay hard.
The food and the beers kept flowing. Before long, he and Kendall were laughing and she even gave him a couple of play-punches to the arm. They both were Dallas Cowboy fans. When he mentioned Tampa Bay and the Jacksonville Jaguars that earned him the third arm punch of the evening.
“To prove how diehard I am, me and Trace take the Fort Myers ferry, get a rental car, and drive to Tampa Bay at least twice a year. You're welcome to join us.”
“Wow,” her voice climbed an octave. “I haven't attended a live game since before my marriage.”
“How can that be?” he quizzed. “You live in Dallas and you don't go to the games?”
Kendall drew her lip between her teeth. “It's a long, ugly story.”
“You want to tell me about it?”
Her emerald eyes constricted like the power being cut to a vintage television screen fading to black.
“Nope, and I don't think I'll be around long enough for any ferry rides.”
He wanted her to confide in him. Man, he wanted her to feel safe with his touch.
“You could stay longer, right?” Why had he asked that question? He'd only met her a few hours earlier. The attraction he felt could be fleeting.
She stared at her hands, and then back up at him. Her eyes looked haunted. Had she been thinking the same as him?
“I need another beer,” he said coming to his feet. And a hole in his head to drain out the stupid.
Chapter Five
Cutler sank down onto the futon next to her, just as Kendall finished her second plate. Booted feet propped on the stump that doubled as furniture gave her a premium view of his muscular legs. Gosh, he was sexy, even when he wasn't trying.
“You were hungry for bacon and eggs.” Laughter glinted in his eyes.
She rubbed her full belly. “Breakfast foods do it for me.”
Without asking, he grabbed both their plates and headed toward the kitchen. Thank goodness…because his nearness was doing it for her, too. Excavating the food on the counter helped to keep her hands busy and... To. Herself.
Jumping up, she scooped up their empty beer bottles. When was the last time she had sat and ate a meal, drank a few beers with a man and not been terrified a blow would land on her arm or chest for some unknown offense? The comfortable companionship reminded her of the lonely existence she led. After the meal Cutler had prepared for them and the conversation, the least she could do was load the dishwasher.
His galley kitchen design meant with the both of them trying to help the other, it was going to be a tight fit.
“I would've gotten everything cleaned up, Kendall. You're a guest in my home.”
He didn't look at her like a guest. All those stolen looks had her hormones jumping like a disco.
“Yea, I know, but I ate enough for three people.”
Cutler encouraged her to eat. Beck would have taken her plate and tossed it in the trash if he decided 'too much' food covered her plate.
“Three ladies, maybe, but not more than me and the guys when I cook down at the station.”
“And here I was thinking I was special.” She grinned, loading the last pot into the bottom rack.
“You are,” he said, turning so that they faced each other. “You got a little sauce on your cheek.”
From out of nowhere, she saw a hand moving toward her face. A part of her brain knew she was far away from Beck, but on reflex, she threw her hands up, shielding her face from a blow.
She had gotten too comfortable. In this tight space, it would be hard to defend herself, but she would inflict as much damage as possible before she went down. There were knives in a kitchen block to her left.
“Kendall?” Anger had tightened Cutler's voice.
An alarm rang in her head. Run, it said. God, she knew that tone better than she wanted to. She'd been trained to fear those subtle changes. Tremors racked her body. Why had she come home with this man? For heaven's sake, how many bruises and broken bones did it take until she got the message? Cutler stepped closer and she jumped, unable to control the response.
“Lower your arms, darlin'.” His voice was softer, no... Tender was a better word.
Inhaling, she breathed in deep, searching for the control she had surrendered too quickly. When nothing happened, she released the tension in her upper body and dropped her arms to her side.
Those blue eyes of his held her captive.
“I've never hit a woman in my life. I won't hurt you. Your defensive posturing every ten minutes makes me want to murder the asshat that made you scared for me to touch you.”
She lifted her chin. “That's an easy enough fix. Keep your hands to yourself.”
A tick started along his jaw.
“Look, Kendall. I'm a lot of things, but a liar isn't on the list. I wanted to touch you the moment I saw you. That hasn't changed, but you know that, don't you?”
She opened her mouth, but she stopped herself when he twisted those just enough fullness to be perfect lips into a frown.
“I know it’s a bad idea for us to become involved. That's why I dragged us both to that hotel, and then to Hobo Alley. Having you under my roof is a temptation I don't need.”
She didn't care for him labeling her the cause for his wayward libido. “Well, I don't need a grown and sexy cowboy juicing me up, either.”
A broad smile revealing all his pearly whites spread across his chiseled features.
“How juicy are we talking?”
Heat crept up her neck. As the spread of warmth registered internally before infusing her cheeks, he began to laugh.
“I'm not answering that.”
“You look like you could use another beer. There's a few left along with a bottle of wine in the fridge.”
Cutler reached for her hand and she stiffened. He growled in frustration. Pulling the cap from his head, he tossed it in the direction of the futon. It landed soundlessly on the giant cushion.
“What the hell did he do to you?”
“I don't want to talk about what you think you know about my life.” He ignored her comment.
She'd left her memories of her marriage along with her signature on a divorce decree. Freedom and her life was her share of their martial assets. Beck was more than happy when she gave him the house, the cars, and the five figures in their bank account. If she'd taken anything, he'd have had a reason to come looking for her.
“Since you're not wearing a ring, I assume it was an ex-lover.”
She shrugged, hoping it would end this conversation.
“He hit you more than once.”
Kendall didn’t retreat, but she was old enough not to be baited into discussing her marriage with a stranger…albeit, a handsome, wildly tempting stranger.
They stared each other down.
When he saw she wasn't joining him in this conversation, he relaxed his stance, propping a booted foot on the wall at his back.
“Probably for some minor offense. Am I
right?”
She scoffed at him. “I had no idea I'd be spending the next two days with a prophet, so you tell me,” she said, hands on her hips.
He grimaced. “It doesn't take divine intervention or a psychology degree to see if you touch me you're fine, but if I touch you, you darn near jump out of your skin.”
She was done here. “Just because we're stuck together doesn't mean you get to cut me open to see how I tick.”
He pushed away from the wall. “I don't cut and I don't hit,” he rasped.
Fine, he was one of the good ones. He'd be great for some equally great beach bombshell. “You said I could use your room, right?”
All his golden boy charm seemed to evaporate. His face went blank. His cool regard gave her the impression she had disappointed him. Grab a number and get in line.
“Yea, I need to change the sheets.”
She pushed away from the dishwasher and made for the bedroom door. “Don't worry about it. I'll sleep in my clothes.”
“Why? Is it too much of a temptation to have my scent on your skin?”
The words were cold and biting. Just a few hours together, and she'd irritated him. Beck would have left her with a carefully placed bruise for less.
“I need to focus on my job and my family. And for the record, I caught your scent, cowboy.” Every breath drew Cutler Stevens closer to her heart. The silly organ caused too much trouble.
***
Cutler lay still on the futon staring at the ceiling. Midnight had come and gone, along with the electrical power. He assumed Kendall slept through the pop and sizzle of the transformer fireworks. Rain beat against the house, the sound louder than a thousand marbles rushing through a rip in a bag. Wind howled and roared as lighting illuminated the sky.
He needed to get over his fascination with Kendall. The woman was focused on her career and spending time with her grandmother. Though he'd had a great evening with her, did she feel the same way about him?
The sound of a lightning strike split the air, and then the ground and the house shook. The smell of burnt wood filled the air, the pungent scent pouring in through the vents. All of that brought him up off his bed for the night, but it was Kendall's ear-piercing scream that had him leaping across the table and sprinting to his bedroom.
“Kendall,” he yelled.
When she didn't reply, and the door remained closed, he hit the panel with his shoulder, pushing the thing wide.
What he saw had his stomach plummeting to his feet. Flashbacks of his time in combat stormed his brain like a recon force on a covert mission.
Kendall stood, a naked fire goddess, with a gun pointed at his chest. Why the heck would she pull a firearm? And why, oh why, did he take a step closer?
He couldn't take his eyes off her. She was beautiful. With each flash of lightning, her body glowed in the darkness; her bare shoulders, the rise and fall of her full breasts with each breath, abs so flat he could lick a straight line to...His eyes traveled lower to the close-trimmed triangle between her legs. Cutler's throat went dry, his mouth watered, and he was thirsty all at once.
“You're a natural red.” He some how pushed the words past his strangled breath. Talk about a smoking hot, naked gun.
“I have a gun pointed at you, but you're more concerned with my bare essentials?”
This remarkable woman, unashamed of her nakedness and confident in her ability to protect stirred Cutler’s blood like none other. He grinned, moving closer still.
“Darlin', I'm a former Marine. Guns in the bedroom could be considered foreplay.” Now, he leaned in close, the heat of her body as he entered her personal space was a beacon for his erection. “If I let you shoot me, will you put your mouth where I tell you?”
He saw the pulse in her slender neck quicken. The blood in his veins heated to a slow, rolling boil. He watched her green eyes darken to a velvet forest, rich and intoxicating, and then they dilated. Hmm, she liked to play on the edge...so did he.
“Cutler.” She cocked her head, her finger tightening on the trigger. “Keep your eyes up here cowboy and tell me what was that sound?”
Cutler didn't hesitate to slip into his staff sergeant role at the heightened state of alert in her voice. “Lower your weapon, Kendall.”
“No, tell me who's outside,” she said pulling a white flimsy shirt over her head with one hand while maintaining her grip on the gun with the other.
He got the sense she had experience firing a gun.
“First, put the gun down. Then tell me why the heck you're naked in my bed without me.”
“The bed smells like you and I tried to settle into sleep, but I kept...sniffing and…,” she trailed off.
Was she insane? She had no idea how close she was to danger being butt naked under his roof. His resistance was hair trigger sensitive when she was clothed, for sure he was a goner now that he'd seen her goodies.
“So you decided letting it all hang out and rollin' around in my man spice would make it easier for you?”
She grunted as if he were the crazy one.
“No, the clothes were irritating...so I took everything off.”
He could envision her plump breasts rubbing against his sheets, the nipples erect and hyper-responsive to the touch. Her feminine flesh swollen and puffy, ready for him to take full possession. With the loose fit of his shorts, maybe she hadn't noticed his shaft bobbing in agreement.
“Darlin' if you're itching for the real thing, I'm yours for the taking.”
“Must you toy with me at every turn? I'm an easy target, right?” she asked waving the gun back and forth.
A beautiful woman that didn't realize how attractive she was to the opposite sex was a man's worst nightmare. He'd have to fight to convince her of her own worth, and then crack skulls every time he took her out of the house to keep the blood hounds off her scent.
“I'm not kidding about the weapon. Unless you're gonna shoot me in my own house, put the gun down, Kendall.”
She stared at the gun in her hand before pivoting to place it on the nightstand.
“This isn't for you.”
He knew she referred to the firearm, but man, he wanted her to be all for him.
“I heard something, Cutler.”
The fear he heard in her voice sobered him.
“You heard lightning split the Kapok tree next to the house. There's no one outside.” Skepticism marred her features. “See for yourself,” he said pointing out the window.
Branches blocked the view to outside. With the tree standing at least ten feet above the roofline, he knew it was no longer safe for Kendall to stay in the bedroom.
“Put that gun away and grab your things.”
She touched the metal, but made no move to put it away.
“Kendall, what are you not telling me?”
“I'm here to fight fires, that's all you need to know.”
“You brought a gun into my home, that gives me a need to know.”
“The gun was in my luggage and I have a permit to conceal carry.”
“Well considering you had it pointed at my chest, it wasn't in your luggage. Now, is someone after you?”
“If he is, I'll be ready.”
“Who is he?”
“That's not of importance for you.” She moved to bend over, and then thought better of it. “I'll grab my things when you leave.”
“I don't think so.” He stood with his arms crossed over his chest. Their eyes met and held, both of them too stubborn to back down. Another flash of light cut through the darkness, before the ground rumbled beneath their feet. She jumped at the sensation. He hid his satisfied grin when her posture relaxed.
Quickly Kendall grabbed her magic bag of tricks. With the backpack thrown over her shoulder, she lifted her suitcase, holding it sideways with both hands.
“Let me help you.”
“Nope...you've done enough,” she shot back.
When she moved past him, her hair brushed against his arms. Oh my gosh, h
ow had he missed the change? Layers upon layers of fiery red locks hung down her back, the tips forming a silky flame tip at the small of her back.
“Oh hell, Kendall,” he sucked the air between his teeth.
“What?”
“Don't ever cover your hair again.” He reached out and touched the fine hairs falling in front of her ears. His fingers tingled at the contact. Thick strands flowed through his grasp like the finest of Thai silk. “You're beautiful.”
She spun around to face him, the suitcase hovering at her midsection between them—and his adrenaline-fueled focus on the storm, Kendall’s safety, and the gun vanished. The real Kendall, genuine in her beauty stood before him. Where she'd been flatter-chested when he picked her up from the airport, there were rounded mounds, high and perky beneath her thin nightshirt.
“Hell's fire and brimstone, Kendall. You've gone and changed all your Mrs. Potato Head parts on me,” he said running both hands through his hair. Not to mention a cool sweat had formed in his armpits from the adrenaline rush of having a woman worthy of the chase in his midst. “Where the heck did you hide those all day?” Kendall had a rack, not double D's, but more than a B cup.
She glanced down, eyeing her breasts like an inconvenience.
“They draw too much attention, so I keep them wrapped.”
Cutler forced out a breath while adjusting his erection. “Kendall, women are supposed to draw attention. God designed you that way.” She was packing fire in every category…body, brains, and boldness. No wonder she had to unveil herself in stages. No man could handle her all at once.
“Well, I don't want any, so I band them down.”
His brain must have short-circuited because the next thing he knew the suitcase went flying and she was in his arms, fraternization rules be damned. The woman had him on fire and he wanted her blazing out of control, too.
“You have got to be the craziest woman I've ever met, Red. You can't go around springing...this and those,” he said gesturing to her hair and newly discovered cleavage, “on a fella.”
“See, that's why I keep everything hidden,” she whispered, not taking her eyes off his lips. “You've already fallen under the redhead spell.”