Fall Into Me: Hearts of the South

by Linda Winfree

  “Fine,” she said, shaking her head. “Saturday morning. Nine o’clock. Don’t be late.”

  Exotic tinkling music greeted Mark as soon as he opened the door. Finding Tori in his apartment at the end of the day wasn’t a surprise. Finding her in flowy low-slung pants and a tiny camisole, shimmying in front of the television was a different story. He closed the door and eyed the seductive sway of her hips.

  “Belly dancing?”

  She nodded, barely glancing in his direction, biting her bottom lip in concentration while mimicking the movements of the trio of women dancing on the television.

  “Exercise video.” Her voice emerged a little breathy and a whole lot sexy. “Works the core.”

  “It definitely works something.” He leaned his shoulders against the door and watched. She had the hips for this, sweet and curvy.

  She jerked her chin at him. “Get over here and kiss me, and maybe I’ll forget you’re late.”

  Pushing away from the door, he crossed to brush his mouth over hers. With a saucy wink, she gave an extra wiggle and bumped her hip against his. “You’re going to have to do better than that if you don’t want me to fuss about you being late.”

  He grinned. Every day they were together, she grew more secure, more comfortable in their physical interactions. He loved that, loved watching her bloom into the warm, confident woman she’d been destined to be. Hell, he just loved her.

  “Well, come here then.” He wrapped an arm about her waist and tugged her against him. Turning her face up to his, she wound her arms about his neck, and their lips met. With an approving murmur, she curled closer and opened her mouth beneath his.

  “Mmm, that’s better.” Eyes sparkling, she leaned back in the circle of his arms. “So why are you late?”

  “Yeah, about that.” He released her and stepped back. She wasn’t going to like this, but he didn’t intend to have secrets or lies between them. Rubbing a hand over his nape, he cleared his throat. “I went by the Cue Club to see Angel Henderson.”

  Her face closed, her entire posture stiffening. “Really.”

  “Tori—”

  “Any particular reason why?” Her chin lifted in silent challenge, but he didn’t miss the flash of uncertainty in her dark eyes. Damn it, he hated seeing that insecurity when she’d become the single most important element in his life.

  “I owed her an apology.” He kept his voice calm and quiet.

  “And you had to go see her? Email or a phone call wouldn’t work?”

  “No, it wouldn’t. I was a complete ass and she deserved to hear that in person.”

  “An ass how?” Glancing away, she brushed her hair behind her ear. “You’re going to have to explain it to me.”

  He resisted the need to pull her to him and smooth away the doubt clouding her features. He settled for cradling her chin in his palm and tilting her gaze back to his. “First, you need to understand that Angel is not a threat to you where I’m concerned, in any way, shape or form. Okay?”

  She lifted a hand, palm up. “Well, it’s hard to—”

  “Tor, I love you.” He leaned in to kiss her. “Do you believe that?”

  She curved her fingers along his jaw. “You know I do.”

  “I haven’t said that to a woman in almost twenty years. I don’t treat it lightly and you have to believe that nothing is going to change the way I feel about you.” He turned his head, rubbing his mouth across the soft inside of her thumb. “Do you believe that?”

  “Yes.” She tapped his chest, sharp enough to sting. “But that doesn’t mean I’m happy you went to see her. Now explain.”

  “All right.” He chafed a hand down his nape. “That night you saw us together at the ER?”

  “You slept with her.” The miserable resignation in the words was hard to miss.

  “I did. While it didn’t mean anything to me beyond the moment, she was on the rebound and I think she read more into it than I ever intended.” He met Tori’s troubled gaze. “I’m not proud of it, Tori, you know that. Anyway, she left me a handful of messages in the last couple of weeks.”

  “And you didn’t call her back.” A pained frown twisted her brow. “Oh, Mark, that was really not smart.”

  “Yeah. It wasn’t decent of me, either. Anyway, Tick and I ran across her today while Troy Lee had her stopped for speeding—”

  “Wait. Tick was working?”

  “Um, kinda.”

  “Lord, he has no sense. Cait will kill him when she finds out.” Tori’s shoulders hunched. “Go ahead.”

  “It was pretty obvious she’d heard about you and me, and just as obvious that she was hurt. I couldn’t just not apologize and I couldn’t do it standing by the side of the road with Tick and Troy Lee there.”

  “You’re right.” Sounding slightly mollified, Tori leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “She deserved an apology and I wouldn’t expect less of you than to give it to her in person.”

  He stroked his thumb across the strip of waist bared between her camisole and pants. Damn, she had the silkiest skin. “So we’re good.”

  “Yes, we’re good.” She pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “It’s done, it’s over, it has nothing more to do with us. Right?”

  “Right.” He caught her chin between his other thumb and forefinger and kissed her. With a pleased murmur, she turned her face into his neck. He smiled and nuzzled her ear. “So about that belly dancing…do I get a private showing?”

  Her giggle flushed him with pleasure and warmth. “Maybe. Are you going to play private chef? I ate a candy bar for lunch.”

  “So that’s how it is.” Why wasn’t he surprised? With a soft swat on her butt, he released her. “You only want me because I can cook.”

  “Well, someone has to do it.” An impish expression wrinkled her nose. “And you don’t want it to be me.”

  “This is true.” He wrapped an arm around her neck and pulled her with him toward the kitchen, completely secure that all was right with them and feeling better that things were straight with him and Angel. “So I cook, you dance…sounds like a good trade to me.”

  ***

  She had lost her mind.

  Angel flicked her new layers into place around her face. The haircut had been a great idea. Agreeing to go out with Troy Lee? Maybe not so great. In the two days since Wednesday night, she’d picked up her cell more than once with the intention of canceling, but each time she’d put the phone away without doing so. Last night she’d even found herself unable to sleep, like when she’d been a little girl and it had been the night before a trip to Six Flags in Atlanta.

  She was making way more of this than it was. He’d said just for fun, just for a good time. He was the epitome of “not serious”, so why was she so keyed up?

  “Oh, you know why.” She addressed her reflection, finger-combing the long layers once more. “You just don’t want to admit it.”

  She was wound up over what it had felt like to be pressed close to that tall, muscular body. Muscular being the key word, since he definitely had muscles in all the right places, from a hard chest to firm biceps and nicely toned forearms. She sighed and lifted her arm, flexing her own biceps. Yep, a good thing they weren’t getting naked together. She wasn’t flabby, thanks to the lifting she did to stock the bar and working in her yard, but she wasn’t Ms. Universe by any stretch of the imagination.

  But she would like to know if his abs were as tight and hard as the rest of him.

  A solid rap at the front door set off a ripple of blended apprehension and anticipation. With one last fluff of the still unfamiliar hair, she scooted out of the tiny bathroom and hurried to the front door. Smoothing her skirt, she pulled up a bright smile and swung it open. “Hey.”

  “Morning.” His dimples deepened as he talked, and oh Lord, her knees actually tried to go weak as she looked at him. He was casually dressed, all good-looking and yummy in a long-sleeved sage green T-shirt and khaki cargo shorts that revealed calf m
uscles as perfect as his biceps. His short dark hair was adorably mussed, in a way several local men paid her sister big bucks to maintain.

  Positive she was staring and probably on the verge of drooling, she dropped her gaze and stepped back. “Come on in.”

  He strode inside and cast a quick glance around the living room before his attention fell on her. His lips twitched and he chuckled. “What are you wearing?”

  “Um, clothes.” She looked down at the white dress with its empire waist and silver sequin trim that gave it a flirty, Grecian air. Sure it was a little summery for November, but the weather forecast was calling for temperatures in the high seventies and she’d planned to add her short denim jacket. “Why?”

  “It’s a little dressy for hiking out to the river.” He lowered his eyes to her boots. “And you’re just asking to twist an ankle, wearing those on that terrain.”

  “Hiking? To the river?” She shook her head, really taking in for the first time his own footwear, sturdy boots made for trekking. “You said breakfast, Troy Lee. Not woods and bugs and snakes.”

  “Snakes aren’t moving right now.” He made a pfft sound at the idea. “I figured we’d grab breakfast to go and head for the Outpost. There’s a great place about a half-mile up where we could sit and eat.”

  He was serious. She’d envisioned a nice leisurely breakfast at the diner or maybe even brunch at Coney Hall, and his idea of an enjoyable outing involved slogging through the woods. Oh, it was a very good thing they weren’t in this for more than fun.

  He passed a hand through his hair, mussing it further. “I guess I should have explained what I had in mind or asked what you wanted to do, huh?”

  He looked crushed, darn it, like a little boy who’d crafted some hideous homemade valentine only to have it spurned by the cutest girl in the class.

  “No, that’s okay. A walk would be nice.” What was she saying?

  Relief chased some of the tension from his features. “How about a compromise? We pick up breakfast and take it up to Riverfront Park? The nature trail is paved if you’re serious about a walk.”

  Pavement? Now that she could handle. “It’s a deal. Let me grab my jacket.”

  He held the door for her, then waited, glancing around the porch while she locked up. As they went down the concrete pathway to where his green Wrangler waited outside the fence, he took her hand easily.

  “You look great, by the way.” He opened the door and helped her with the slight climb. “I really do like the new hairstyle. The color too. It suits you.”

  “Thank you.” Flustered, she tucked her billowy skirt around her thighs. “I’ll tell my sister you approve. It was all her idea.”

  “Well, it was a fantastic one.” He shut the door and strode around the hood. Once behind the wheel, he grinned. “Ready?”

  “Yes.” Maybe. Unless she was getting in over her head, which she already feared she was. He made her feel too good, too special, with his easygoing admiration and friendly attention.

  The fresh morning air, already holding a promise of the unseasonal warmth to come, rushed in through the open vehicle, tousling her hair, kissing her cheeks.

  He drove easily, one hand on the wheel, the other resting atop the gearshift, at an ambling speed that said he was in no hurry to get where he was going. She was so accustomed to always being five minutes behind and hurrying to catch up that the sensation of slowness made her skin itch.

  She eyed the instrument cluster. “You’re not even driving the speed limit.”

  He slanted an ironic glance in her direction. “You mean you know what one is?”

  “Oh, you’re funny.”

  “Angel baby, I’ve worked here for nearly three years. Do you know how many times I’ve stopped you for speeding in that time?”

  More than she could count. She squirmed in the seat. “I don’t know.”

  He lifted his hand from the gearshift, flashed five fingers, made a fist, flashed all five once more, then held aloft a single digit.

  “Eleven? No way you’ve stopped me eleven times.”

  “Yes way. I can pull out the logs to prove it, and that’s just me, Ms. Speedy Gonzales. That doesn’t count Chris or Steve or Cookie—” He bit the name off and grimaced. “Sorry. You probably don’t want to talk about him.”

  “It’s okay.” She tucked her tangling hair behind her ear, only to have it tossed free by the playful wind once more. Oddly enough, it was okay. She hadn’t thought about Cookie, not really, since Thursday night, as all her brain cells seemed intent on fixating on the male body in the Jeep next to her. She hadn’t thought of him at all this morning, her attention captured by Troy Lee’s sweet teasing. Being free of the hurt bitterness felt good and she patted Troy Lee’s thigh. “Really. I mean it. It’s okay.”

  “I’m glad.” He covered her hand with his, heat traveling up her nerve endings from the dual contact of hard thigh under her palm and warm male skin atop her wrist and hand. He grinned at her but didn’t let go. “So what sounds good for breakfast?”

  She made a valiant effort not to flex her fingers around the tight muscles beneath them. Was wanting to touch, to explore just a little such a bad thing? “Lisa’s is good and they do takeout. Or there’s the diner on the courthouse square.”

  “Lisa’s,” he said with a decisive tone. Lifting his hand, he downshifted for the looming red light. “I eat enough of the diner’s food during the week.”

  Her hand felt lonely and bare with his gone, and what was she supposed to do now? Leave it? Move it? As casually as she could, she raised both hands to smooth her hair behind her ears now that the wind rush wasn’t as severe.

  He made a left onto 19, heading south from town to where Lisa’s Café sat in a refurbished farmhouse in the middle of a pecan grove. He parked and came to open her door. Again, he folded his fingers around hers on the short walk to the wraparound porch and the restaurant’s entrance.

  Lord, he was such a sweetheart. Why hadn’t some smart girl snapped him up before now?

  He propped the authentic screen door open with his hip and reached for the doorknob on the hundred-year-old oak slab. The door swung inward as he did so and Angel stepped closer to him to allow the departing patrons to pass.

  He rested a hand on her shoulder. “What do you like here—”

  “Excuse us. Oh.” Jim’s voice reeked of discomfort and Angel’s simple pleasure in the morning evaporated. “Angel, hey.”

  Angel closed her eyes. Great. A nice Saturday run-in with her ex-fiancé and his new wife.

  Just what she needed.

  Chapter Four

  She couldn’t hide forever. Angel opened her eyes and pasted on a big, bright smile. “Hey, Jim, Rhonda. How are you?”

  Rhonda’s mouth stretched, but Angel wasn’t sure the expression could be called friendly. “Good, thanks. You?”

  “Fine, thank you.” My, how polite they all were, as if this wasn’t the single most awkward situation Angel had ever encountered.

  Troy Lee rested his hand at her waist in a light nudge. “I hate to rush you, honey, but if we don’t get a move on, we’re going to be late.”

  Bless his heart, he was sweet and smart. She nodded and laid her hand over his, letting him direct her toward the door. “You’re right. Y’all excuse us.”

  Jim mumbled something and ushered his bride toward the parking area. With Troy Lee’s palm still warm on her waist, Angel slipped inside. The heavy door closed behind them.

  “I’ll be with you in a minute,” Lisa called from the dining room, her voice harried.

  “I could hug your neck,” Angel whispered as they approached the glass case, filled with luscious desserts, which served as the ordering and checkout counter in the large foyer.

  “Later.” His resonant murmur, close to her ear, sent a ripple of awareness through her, creating a flutter of attraction deep in her belly. “We have that whole kissing thing to try out.”

  She turned her head, meeting devilish blue eyes, in
tensely conscious that he still hadn’t dropped his hand, each finger a warm imprint through the thin cotton of her dress. “Don’t push it.”

  With a laugh, he reached for two of the laminated menus available for takeout customers. Against her, his fingertips moved in an absent rhythm while he perused the menu. It took her a moment to decipher the motions. Rolling her eyes, she prodded his hand aside. “I’m not a guitar, Troy Lee.”

  “What?” He looked up, blinking as though she’d pulled him from a daze. This time sheepishness tinged his wonderful grin. “Was I playing frets again? Sorry. It’s a habit. I do it unconsciously when I’m thinking.”

  Sweet, smart and endearingly goofy. Dropping her gaze, she picked up her own menu. “What looks good?”

  “You.”

  “Troy Lee. Behave.”

  “If you insist.” His long-suffering sigh stirred the ruffled hair at her temple. “I’m getting the grilled PBJ.”

  “Oh, that sounds fantastic. I think I want one too.”

  “I’m sorry y’all had to wait.” Lisa Johnson appeared from the dining area. “I’m short a waitress this morning and it’s killing us. Are you ready to order? Oh my God, Angel, I love your hair. You should have cut it a long time ago.”

  “Thanks.” She fingered the ends and glanced up at Troy Lee and his I-told-you-so eyes. “Are we ready?”

  “Yeah.” He laid the menus aside. “Couple of grilled PBJs. Some fruit?” He looked at Angel in inquiry and she nodded. “The fruit sampler and a large coffee for me.”

  “And Angel wants our strawberry tea, right?” Lisa’s red lips showcased sparkly white teeth.

  “Exactly.”

  “All right then.” Lisa scribbled the order on a pad and shooed them toward a couple of plush chairs near the tall windows facing the porch. “Give me about ten minutes and we’ll have you good to go.”

  Angel sank onto one, tucking her skirt about her legs and crossing one ankle over the other. Troy Lee took the second chair, his body half-turned toward her, his arm resting along the back and his fingers close to her arm.

  “You handled that well.” His voice quiet, he jerked his head toward the door.