The Opposite of Wild

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The Opposite of Wild Page 13

by Kylie Gilmore


  Liz exchanged a look with Shane as Maggie walked with swinging hips back to Jorge. They cracked up.

  Shane held the door for her. “I think we’ve been dismissed.”

  “I think they’re going to hook up,” Liz said as they walked to the car.

  “In the dance studio?” Shane asked.

  “No, but soon. They seem really into each other.”

  “So weird.”

  “I know.” She sighed and stopped next to the car.

  Shane stood next to her. “Sorry I’m a terrible dancer.”

  She bumped him with her hip. “Hey, it was your first time. I’ve had two whole lessons.”

  He grinned. “You want to go to a barbecue at Trav’s place on Sunday? Just family. But you could bring a friend.”

  She smiled. “Sure. I’ll ask Rachel too.”

  His ears turned redder than his hair. “Good.”

  “Hey, you guys!” Maggie called as she left the dance studio. “Wasn’t that great? Didn’t you just love it?”

  “You sure loved it, Gran,” Shane teased. “You and Jorge.”

  “Oh, you,” she said.

  Liz unlocked the car, and they all got in. She put down the roof, and the wind messed up their hair again on the way home.

  “Listen, Liz, you don’t have to drive me anymore,” Maggie said. “Jorge said he’d be happy to pick me up and drop me off.”

  “Oh, really?” she asked casually.

  “Yes, you can still come to class, though. Not trying to scare you away.”

  Shane was quiet in the back seat.

  “I think I’ve had enough lessons, Maggie. Enjoy yourself.”

  “But not too much!” Shane piped up.

  “No such thing as too much!” Maggie yelled back to him. Then she lifted her arms in the air in the V of victory. “Woo-hoo!”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Liz had some free time the next morning. It was a beautiful summer day, and she decided it would be fun to go for a drive with Maggie.

  She rang her friend’s doorbell at ten o’clock. She knew Maggie was an early riser.

  “Liz, what a lovely surprise. Come in.” Oddly, Maggie was still in a nightgown—a lacy cotton thing that ended at the knees. Her hair looked sort of tousled. And she wore bunny slippers. She joined Maggie in the living room, where they usually sat.

  “Can I get you some tea?” Maggie inquired. She seemed unusually cheerful considering she just woke up.

  Jorge, in a ruffled yellow terrycloth robe, walked in from the kitchen, carrying a mug. “I just put on a pot of coffee if you’d prefer that.” He positively glowed when he smiled.

  “Jorge! Hello!” Liz’s voice rose to the octave of a cat whose tail has just been stepped on. “I am…so, so”—she backed toward the front door—“sorry. I should’ve called first. Next time I’ll call.”

  She grabbed the door and opened it.

  “Bye, sweetie!” Maggie said.

  Jorge whispered something in a low, sexy voice, and Maggie giggled.

  Liz quietly shut the door. Omigod. She just prayed Ryan didn’t find out.

  She took the porch steps quickly and practically sprinted down the front walk, stopping abruptly at the sight of Ryan coming down the sidewalk. “Ryan! Would you like to get a cup of coffee with me at Ernie’s?” The diner was in Eastman, a good twenty minutes away. Less chance of running into anyone in town while she gently broke the news that Maggie may have “met” someone.

  He looked down at the to-go cup in his hand. “I have coffee.”

  She rushed up to him and put a staying hand on his arm. “A hot breakfast, then? Pancakes?”

  He looked at her quizzically. “Maybe another time. I was just stopping by to check on Gran, see if she needed any work done around here. How was dance class?”

  “Great!” Liz chirped. “You know, I think Maggie’s all set. But, gosh, I could go for a walk. Join me?” She tried to tug him along, but he was six foot, one hundred eighty-five pounds of not budging.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “What’s going on, Liz?”

  Liz didn’t know how else to stop the blow-up about to happen when Ryan discovered his grandmother with her new, hot, younger lover. Distraction time.

  “Kiss me,” she squeaked before throwing herself in his arms.

  ~ ~ ~

  Ryan didn’t need any more invitation. He’d been thinking about doing just that ever since the first time he’d kissed her. Then the timing had been bad; this timing worked just fine. His hand tangled in her silky hair as he leaned down and kissed her. She let out a little moan and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  He tasted her, deepened the kiss, demanding more, and she gave it, opening for him. His tongue mated with hers. He slid his hand from her hair, down her spine, tugging at her shirt. He needed to feel skin. He slipped a hand under her shirt, stroking her back. Then he slid his hand lower, over her thin pants, cupping her pretty little ass and pressing her closer to where he wanted her. She moaned and rocked against him. He felt like he was going to lose it right there. He could feel everything through his basketball shorts. In the distance, a siren went off, and she broke off the kiss.

  Her eyes were wide, her lips rosy and wet, her hair mussed. He reached for her again, but she pushed him away.

  “Ryan, we’re on your grandmother’s front lawn.”

  He knew, but he didn’t care. This had been a long time coming. Still, he wouldn’t object to going somewhere a little more private.

  He put his mouth to her ear. “My place is only a few blocks away.”

  She shivered. “Ryan.”

  He wasn’t finished. He set his coffee down and watched as she diligently tucked her shirt back into her ironed beige pants that stopped at her sexy ankles. Her blush made him smile. You can try to look uptight, but I know you like it hot.

  He smoothed a lock of her hair back behind her ear and stroked her cheek. She leaned into his hand. He kissed her temple and feathered soft, open-mouthed kisses down her jaw to her neck, where he nipped her.

  She jolted, and her eyes flew open. “Okay,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him down the sidewalk. He left his coffee, not wanting to give her a second chance to change her mind.

  He couldn’t believe he was hooking up on a Friday morning with a buttoned-up Liz. He couldn’t wait to pull off every layer to see what she hid underneath.

  He squeezed her hand as they walked toward his house. She gave him an uneasy smile. Uh-oh. I’m losing her.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She stiffened. “Yeah, sure. Fine.” She cleared her throat and looked straight ahead. Her stride was tight and tense.

  They walked in silence while he scrambled to come up with something to put her at ease. His house was just a couple of blocks away. The heat of their previous kiss seemed to be fading in the face of her nerves. He stopped short and pulled her in for another kiss. No sooner had he touched her lips than she pushed him away.

  “Ryan,” she whispered fiercely. “We’re on the sidewalk. Please.”

  He put his hand on the small of her back and tugged her closer, kissing the side of her neck. She leaned into him with a whimper. That was more like it.

  She straightened suddenly and walked at a brisk pace toward his house. “Ryan?”

  He kept up. “Yeah?”

  “You sure about this?”

  “Absolutely.” He looked up and down her fine, curvy body.

  Her face flushed in response. Just a block away now. She seemed torn between bolting and following him into his place. He had to tread carefully. Try not to spook her. When they got to his house, he placed a hand on her back, gently guiding her down the front sidewalk.

  She stopped at the porch steps.

  “Ladies first.” He gestured for her to walk ahead of him. Please don’t bail.

  She glanced back toward the sidewalk. “I…uh…think I better go.” She leaned up on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. On the cheek after all that fiery
passion? He reminded himself that Liz wasn’t the jump-in-the-sack type. Damn if it didn’t make him want her more. Maybe that was her game.

  He caught her around the waist and just held her there. “We can go as slow as you want.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Rain check!” Then she turned and took off at a near run back in the direction they’d come. She reminded him of a skittish deer. He’d have to approach slowly, with care and patience. But there was no question in his mind where this was going. They’d crossed the line of no return with that hot kiss.

  “Where’re you going in such a hurry?” he called just to tease her.

  She waved vaguely in the direction of the downtown. “I just remembered I’m supposed to meet Rachel at Book It.”

  He watched her legs eat up the sidewalk, her heart-shaped ass swaying and waving goodbye to him.

  He groaned and opened his front door. Time for a cold shower.

  He ran upstairs, peeled off his clothes, and threw them on the bedroom floor. A few moments later, the cold water hit him, and all thoughts of Liz flew from his mind.

  ~ ~ ~

  Thankfully, Book It was quiet at this time of the morning. Liz found Rachel pulling new books out of a box, and gestured silently to her office. Rachel followed wordlessly, seeming to understand the urgency, and shut the door behind them.

  “What’s up?” Rachel asked.

  “I feel like I just touched electric current,” Liz said with a jittery laugh. She wiped her sweaty palms on her linen pants. “I almost slept with Ryan five minutes ago!” she blurted. She clapped a hand over her mouth. She still couldn’t believe that had happened.

  Rachel’s brown eyes widened behind her glasses. “This is serious. Why didn’t you go through with it? Some of us spent a nauseating summer listening to you talk about the magnificent Ryan O’Hare, day in and day out.” She softened the snark with a smile.

  Liz didn’t smile back. She was still in too much shock.

  Rachel squeezed Liz’s arm. “Hey, I’m kidding. I was happy to listen. But wouldn’t this have been your dream-come-true moment? Why would you pass that up?”

  Liz flashed back to that intense heat, the overwhelming pull she felt toward Ryan. Dear Lord, she’d been humping him on his grandmother’s front lawn. She was like a dog in heat around him. Luckily, during their short walk, she’d come to her senses.

  Then she remembered Maggie and Jorge and how happy they looked. Post humping.

  Liz dropped her head in her hands and groaned. “I’m such an idiot.”

  Rachel patted her back. “Now we both know that’s not true.” She paused. “Are you an idiot for not sleeping with him or because you almost did?”

  “Because I didn’t,” Liz moaned.

  “This is totally fixable. It’s not hard to get a guy to sleep with you. Just let him know you’re available.”

  She looked up. “How?”

  “Get naked.”

  “Oh, sure, get naked with the guy who…” She trailed off as The Humiliation trounced her hard-won confidence. She shook her head. “It’s better this way. Guess what? Maggie and Jorge hooked up.”

  “See?” Rachel said with a smile. “Take a page from Maggie’s book.”

  “And what about you? Shane invited us to a barbecue at Trav’s on Sunday. Maybe you and Shane.”

  Rachel fixed her with a significant look. “Shane’s too serious for me. Two dates and you’re talking about the”—she did finger quotes in the air—“relationship. After all the crazy boyfriends I’ve had, I just want something light and fun.” She busied herself pouring a cup of fresh coffee. “Besides, Sunday I’m going with Sarah and the kids to the zoo. Coffee?”

  “No, thanks.” Her nerves were jangled enough without adding caffeine to the mix.

  Liz wondered if she shouldn’t go to the barbecue. It could be awkward to see Ryan after she humped him and ran away. He was sure to call her on it. But she was friends with Maggie and Shane, so she should just go.

  She focused on her friend, who claimed they were diving into the single life together, but still hadn’t taken even a baby step in that direction. “Rach, you said you’d get out there.”

  Rachel sipped her coffee. “Maybe I’ll meet someone at the club tomorrow.”

  Liz raised her eyebrows. The likelihood of Rachel going home with someone from a club was zero.

  “What?” Rachel asked. “We’re single and carefree. Thirty is the year o’ fun.” She twirled a finger in the air.

  Liz decided to take that as a small measure of enthusiasm. “You know what? You’re right. If we can’t have fun now, then when? I don’t want to wait until I’m in my seventies like Maggie did.”

  Rachel put up a hand for a high-five. “Veni, vidi, vici!”

  “Please, I can’t keep all the Latin straight.”

  “We came, we saw, we won!”

  On that note, Liz enthusiastically slapped five.

  ~ ~ ~

  The next morning Liz stopped by Garner’s for an egg-white omelet, and who was sitting there drinking coffee at a front window table but Ryan. She could only see the back of his head, but she’d memorized its shape years ago. This was the second time she’d seen him in Garner’s in a week. As far as she knew, he hadn’t been there since returning to town, preferring not to deal with all the nosy gossip hounds that frequented the place.

  She passed him quickly, pretending not to notice him, still so embarrassed about yesterday and the way she ran off. She took a seat at a table for two in the back corner and opened a menu in front of her face.

  The chair in front of her scraped across the floor. “Can I join you?” Ryan asked.

  “Sure,” she squeaked, putting down the menu.

  Ryan took a seat with his coffee. This couldn’t be a coincidence. He must want to see her if he kept showing up at Garner’s.

  “What’s good?” he asked.

  “I like the egg-white omelet.”

  He made a face and picked up a menu. “Hasn’t changed, has it? Except for all the heart-healthy items. Eggs and hash browns it is.”

  “The hash browns are fried and fatty.” Why did I say that? His health choices weren’t her concern. She gripped the napkin tightly in her lap, her cheeks burning.

  “Perfect.” He studied her a moment and lowered his voice. “Yesterday was—”

  “Don’t say it was a mistake!” At the surprised look on his face, she barreled on. “Because it wasn’t. Okay?”

  His mouth quirked. “Okay.” He glanced at her mouth, then met her eyes. “So you liked that?”

  Her face flamed. “Let’s not talk about it.”

  The waiter came and took their order.

  “For someone that doesn’t want to have dinner with me, you’ve had lunch and now breakfast,” he said. “How about dinner tonight?”

  “I can’t. Rachel and I are going to a club.”

  “You and Rachel at a club.” He smiled at the thought.

  “Yes, me and Rachel at a club. It’s not unheard of for single women to go to clubs for some fun.”

  “You gonna hook up with someone?” he asked huskily. His eyes were hot on hers. They promised what he could do for her. To her.

  “No. I don’t know.” Flustered, she smoothed her hair and pushed it over her ears. “Maybe.”

  “Uh-huh. Call me after.” He sipped his coffee.

  After I hook up with someone? After I’m done at the club? He always left her on edge like this, unsure what to say or do. And Rachel’s advice just didn’t hold. She couldn’t very well get naked at her parents’ restaurant to show she was interested.

  “Okay?” he prompted.

  “Okay, I’ll call you.”

  “Or just come over.” His eyes promised more.

  It all became clear in that moment. She bit her lip, unwilling to promise anything she might not have the nerve to go through with.

  “Maybe,” she said.

  “I’ll take a maybe,” he said, placing his warm, large hand
on top of hers.

  Warmth spread through her.

  The waiter arrived with her omelet, and she snatched her hand back. She waited for his food to arrive.

  “Go ahead and eat,” he said.

  But she couldn’t. Between the nerves and his intense eyes, she thought she might be sick. She took a sip of water instead.

  “You feeling okay?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re not gonna get sick on me?”

  She studied him. Did he remember that time when she had? Twice? He watched her, patiently waiting for her answer, no telltale sign of recognition.

  She smiled and shook her head. “I’m fine. See?” She took a bite of omelet, and it was fantastic.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Liz walked into Twenty-One and did an about-face.

  “What’s wrong?” Rachel asked. She’d worn contacts and pulled her usual braid loose, her dark brown hair falling to her shoulders in waves. Her look was new, as was her outfit—an off-the-shoulder white peasant top with a tight black leather skirt and black spiked heels.

  “I think it’s called Twenty-One for a reason,” Liz said. “We’re the oldest ones here.”

  “Oh, stop.” Rachel pushed past her.

  Liz followed, taking in the young, barely twenty-one-year-old girls writhing on the dance floor. “See?”

  Most of the girls wore halter tops, the better to show off their belly-button piercings. The club had a DJ on a raised stage at the far end, with the bass blasting so loud she could feel her eardrums vibrating. To her left, a huge mahogany bar. To her right, long white sofas, white chairs, and tiny round pedestal tables. And in the huge center space, half-naked dancing nymphs.

  “I don’t know about this,” Liz said, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from her capris.

  Rachel reached over and untucked Liz’s sleeveless white button-down shirt from her pants. “Loosen up. Let’s hit the bar.”

  No problem. She could loosen up if she just made a little effort.

  Besides, her shirt could be worn either way. She just preferred the tidy look of having it tucked with a thin belt. But tonight was for fun.

 

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