Lone Star Blues

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Lone Star Blues Page 29

by Delores Fossen


  Allie waited for the punchline, but it didn’t come, and Ryder certainly didn’t look as if anything funny had recently happened to him.

  “Bree,” he continued a moment later. “As I was changing my clothes, she came rushing into the bedroom, threw a pillowcase over my head and said she was kidnapping me.”

  Allie managed to swallow the cheese. “Why?”

  “Because my idiot twin thought I was swimming in a self-pity pit over Curt’s moving, and Bree believed the best way to get me out of that pit was to conk me on the head and drag me to the Longhorn for that blasted drink.”

  “She hit you?”

  Ryder leaned down, pushed away some of his thick golden-brown hair and showed her the bump. “Bree did that with this.” He held up the can of nacho cheese. “She said it was an accident, that she hadn’t meant to give me a concussion, but for shit’s sake, it hurt. Still does. So, anyway, that’s why I’m late.”

  As excuses went, that one was a doozy, and despite the injury and Ryder’s sour mood, it instantly lifted Allie’s spirits. He’d come. And that meant...well, she wasn’t sure exactly what that meant yet, but he was here, and that was a start.

  He tipped his head to the cheese can gripped in her hand. “Did Bree pay you a visit, too?”

  “No.” But she probably should have said yes since Ryder instantly knew the can meant she’d been battling the blues. Because of him being late. No way would she eat the stuff because it was actually good.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  Now she tipped her head to his cheese can. “Did you bring that in with you so I could drown my sorrows?”

  He shook his head but then shrugged. “I thought maybe we’d need it if I got past being stupid and put a stop to what we both are probably thinking about stopping.”

  It took Allie a moment to work her way through that wordy explanation, but it sounded like good news. Good news to her anyway. “You didn’t get past being stupid,” she spelled out, but wished it sounded better than what she’d meant. “I’m glad.”

  He shrugged again, his eyes meeting hers. “I just want to make sure we’ve both thought this all the way through.” But he immediately added a string of curse words to that when his phone dinged with a text. From across the room, Allie’s dinged, too, which meant this was likely a group message. “So help me, if that’s Bree I’m going to throttle her... It’s Curt,” he said when he set aside the cheese can and looked at his phone.

  “‘Back from my honeymoon.’” Ryder read Curt’s message aloud. “‘Happier than a bull with two peckers. Got a text, though, from Bree about an hour ago.’” Ryder continued to read. “‘She sounded all down or something, but she just texted back to say she was hooking up with Roman Granger. Now I think she’s as happy as a bull with three peckers.’”

  Allie could understand Bree feeling that way. Roman was a hot bad boy, and the free-spirited Bree was always up for the kind of trouble Roman would be looking to dish out. It lessened Allie’s feelings of guilt because of the “all down or something” observation Curt had made about Bree. But Roman wasn’t going to be a permanent fix.

  Nothing was.

  “Things will never be the same,” Allie said, repeating what had come up at the wedding. Judging from the puzzled look on his face, Ryder seemed to have a deeper understanding of that now. At least she hoped that was why that look was there, and not because of his head injury.

  It was time for her to make the argument she’d worked on before he’d arrived, so she placed her cheese can on the table next to his, and she took him by the hand to lead him to the sofa. With the puzzled look still in place, he sat, and she hurried to get him the bottle of beer that she had waiting for him in the fridge. Because of the hangover from Hades from the week before, Allie stuck with water.

  His puzzled look turned to one of suspicion when she sat beside him and picked up her laptop that she’d purposely left on the coffee table. “I want to show you a dirty picture,” she said.

  He blinked. “Porn?”

  “Not exactly.” But she had gotten his attention just as she’d planned. Allie clicked on the photo she’d loaded and angled the screen so that it was right in Ryder’s face.

  “Holy hell.” He didn’t exactly scramble away from it, but it was close. He moved back as far as he could go and still be on the couch.

  That had been Allie’s reaction, too, when she’d first found it. “It’s a good example of the point I’m trying to prove.”

  He stared at her at if she’d lost it. “It’s a photo of a really old couple having sex.” Ryder glanced at it again. “Is that the guy’s butt or just super wrinkly boxers?”

  “His butt,” she verified, but she’d been confused at first, as well. Equally confused why the couple—who were ninety if they were a day—had thought it a good idea to post something like that.

  “And the point you’re trying to prove,” Ryder said, “is what?”

  “You can’t unsee that, right?”

  His agreement was fast and firm.

  “Well, I can’t unsee what I saw in the hayloft,” Allie continued. “You were naked, and I saw every inch of you. Every. Inch,” she emphasized. “That means I’ll always have that memory with me wherever we go from here.”

  He stayed quiet a moment. “I have some of those memories of you, too.”

  Good. She hoped the ones he had were as visually appealing as hers were of him.

  Allie looked him straight in the eyes. “Ryder, we can’t be just friends. Not anymore.”

  There. It was all spelled out, and except for the bunched-up face Ryder kept making when he would glance at the old couple, she thought it would soon sink in.

  “So, you’re saying we’re screwed either way we go?” he asked.

  Allie would have said yes, a fast and firm one, but she didn’t get a chance. That was because Ryder took hold of her, pulled her to him and kissed her.

  * * *

  DESPITE THE FAILED kidnapping attempt, the disturbing senior-sex photo and the strong possibility that he was ruining things with his best friend, Ryder was surprisingly okay with this kiss.

  Of course, it was a good kiss, one that dissolved any shred of common sense, so he had to admit that it could be the main reason for the okay feeling. That and he knew it wasn’t going to stop at just a kiss.

  Nope.

  Allie and he had started this a week ago, and they were going to finish it whether it was the right thing to do or not. It certainly seemed right, and judging from that sweet sound of pleasure she made, Allie was in his corner on this.

  And speaking of corners, that was where they landed—the corner of the sofa with her arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer and closer until it wasn’t possible to get any closer. Well, it was, but it was going to take them getting rid of their clothes to accomplish that.

  Allie didn’t seem to have a problem with that, either. While the kiss raged on, she squeezed her hand between them to the front of his shirt and started playing with his buttons. It wasn’t just the flirty touching that she’d done earlier in the barn; this was actual touching, and it got even better when she undid enough buttons to get her hand in his shirt.

  Now her fingers dallied around on his chest. It was nice, very nice, but it got a whole lot better when Ryder returned the favor and turned the dallying tables on her. He slipped his hand beneath her top and into her bra.

  Oh, man.

  This second-base foreplay already felt like it was only seconds away from hauling her off to bed, but if this did indeed turn out to be a mistake, Ryder intended to make the most of it. He broke the kiss so he could sample what was on the other side of the flimsy lace bra she was wearing.

  Allie made more sounds of pleasure and need, which, of course, only fired him up even more. It also upped the urgency inside him, but Allie went for broke in the urgency de
partment when she pressed her hand to the front of his jeans.

  Yes, this was definitely going to lead to sex.

  That was the last coherent thought Ryder had for a couple of seconds because while Allie kept touching him, she also kissed his neck. And she used her tongue. Talk about hitting his prime hot spot, and she could generate enough heat to melt a glacier with that mouth.

  Ryder knew he had to do something, and that was when he went for another round of table turning—literally. He hooked his arm around her neck, shifting her out of the sofa corner. He wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but they ended up on the coffee table.

  The things that had been on the table clattered to the floor, but they both ignored it because the new position and kisses inspired them to get naked. It went a lot faster than the strip poker had. He had her top off in seconds. Ditto for her bra. He would have gone after her skirt, but her breasts distracted him. He was mindless when it came to that sort of thing, and he had to kiss and taste some more before he could move on.

  Moving on, though, was worth the effort because once he had the skirt off, he saw her panties. They weren’t the same ones she’d had on in the hayloft, but he knew these would be just as memorable.

  So was what was beneath.

  He got proof positive of that when he shimmied off her panties. He kissed his way back up her body as she cursed him and tugged at him. Ryder thought she was either trying to make this end way too fast or she was aiming to get his clothes off. Since he didn’t want things to go in the too-fast direction, he helped her. Not easily. Because he soon learned that Allie intended to continue those torturing neck kisses while he got out of his jeans and put on a condom.

  When Ryder finally pushed into her, he made darn sure he was looking straight into her eyes. That way he could see if there was any hesitation.

  There wasn’t.

  There was only the glow of pleasure, complete with lust-glazed eyes and a gusting breath. It was perfect.

  Just as Allie was.

  He’d always known that, of course, but this was perfect on steroids.

  “Finish it,” she whispered, her voice both sweet and hot at the same time. “Easy Cheesy can’t cure this, but you can.”

  Yes, he could. He finished it while one of their favorite mantras pulsed through his head.

  Nothing can go wrong with that.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  WHEN IT CAME to sex with Ryder, plenty went right. Not caring if she got the grammar correct, Allie figured it was righter than she could have ever imagined.

  Who knew that there’d be that kind of amazing heat between them? She certainly did—now. And it had only gotten better when they’d had a second and third round, in her bed those times.

  Even though she’d known Ryder most of her life and had cared deeply about him for a good chunk of that time, Allie had learned a lot about him tonight. Not just sex related, either. She now knew he was a snuggler, a cover hog and that he could fall asleep minutes after an orgasm. He hadn’t overanalyzed things. Hadn’t gotten a panicked “we screwed up” look in his eyes. He had simply snuggled, fallen asleep.

  And then stolen the covers.

  After she’d pulled and tugged most of the night, she’d finally given up and used Ryder for any body heat she needed. All in all, it was an excellent solution because she was touching enough naked parts of him to make her recall in perfect detail what he could do with that nakedness.

  She glanced at the clock on her dresser. Already nine a.m. She rarely slept this late, but then she’d never spent the night with Ryder.

  While still nestled in the crook of his arm, she looked up at him and couldn’t help herself. She had to brush a kiss on his chin, and Allie wanted to kick her own butt when he stirred. The feeling didn’t last, though, when he looked down at her and smiled. Just smiled. And she released the breath she hadn’t even known she’d been holding because those blue eyes still showed no trace of regret.

  With their gazes locked, the smile still on his incredible mouth, she waited for him to say something. She also steeled herself in case the “something” included a long talk about the complications this would cause in their lives.

  “I’m starving,” he said. “Let me grab a shower, and then I can whip us up some coffee and breakfast.”

  Allie was certain she looked shocked because she was. He kissed her, smiled and got off the bed—giving her yet another full view of his body. She figured those doubts and second thoughts would come to him when he was grabbing that shower, but she was wrong about that, too. After he’d been in the bathroom only a few minutes, he came back out and took her hand, leading her back into the bathroom with him. And then into the shower, where he already had the hot water going.

  He chuckled. “You should see your face.”

  She hoped he wasn’t talking about smeared makeup or something. “What’s wrong with it?” she asked.

  “Nothing’s wrong. You just look as if you’ve never showered with a man before.”

  She hadn’t, but she winked. “I’ve never showered with you.”

  Allie meant to make that sound flirty, but it came out sounding as if she’d attached herself to him and wouldn’t let go. Of course, maybe she was overreacting and confused that this hadn’t led to the conversation she was certain they would have already had. She might have gone ahead and launched right into the talk, too, but Ryder distracted her with a kiss. Then another. Then another. Until Allie no longer cared if they ever spoke to each other again.

  With the water sliding over their bodies, Ryder did some sliding of his own. His mouth still on hers. His hands moving over her. He kept up the touching and kissing. Ryder added some lifting, too. He hooked her legs around him and took her there with her back bracketed against the shower wall.

  The climax roared through her, just as the others had, but if she had to rate them, this was the best. Definitely her new preferred way to wake up in the morning.

  “You’re better than a triple-espresso-shot latte,” she whispered, causing him to give her a dreamy post-sex smile and a kiss.

  Allie would have probably stayed there, with Ryder still inside her, while the kisses continued. Heck, she would have stayed until their skin pruned. But then she heard the doorbell. Not just one ring but a whole bunch in a row.

  Ryder set her on her feet and turned off the water just as the ringing turned to heavy knocks. He cursed, got out and handed her a towel. Allie was cursing, too, when she heard the front door open. There were only three other people with keys to her house. Curt, who was in Abilene. Ryder, who was naked next to her.

  And Bree.

  “Allie?” Bree called out. “Ryder? What the hell happened?”

  * * *

  FROM THE MOMENT Ryder had kissed Allie in the tack room, he’d known that he would have to tell Bree what was going on. He just hadn’t expected the telling to come so soon. This was not the kind of interruption he wanted mere seconds after a very satisfying orgasm.

  Allie groaned, huffed and generally looked as if she dreaded this situation as much as he did. Still, she opened the bathroom door a notch.

  “I’ll be right there,” she called out to Bree.

  She put on a bathrobe that she took from the adjoining dressing room and looked at him. “Your truck is out front so she knows you’re in here. But if you want to keep this just between us, I can tell Bree that you’d had too much to drink and that you caught a ride home.”

  Ryder appreciated that she was giving him an out, but in that moment, he realized it wasn’t an out he wanted. Bree needed to learn the truth.

  So did Allie.

  He was thinking both of them were going to be surprised with what he had to say.

  “We’ll talk to Bree together,” he insisted.

  She nodded, and when they were dressed, she brushed a kiss on his cheek. She seemed un
certain. He sure as heck hoped that uncertainty didn’t apply to what was about to happen.

  Allie and he went out together, into the living room, where Bree was waiting. She didn’t give them the shocked look that Ryder had expected, though. Instead, Bree tipped her head to the two Easy Cheesy cans on the foyer table.

  “If you were going to have a pity party, you should have invited me,” Bree said. It wasn’t sarcastic, either. In fact, there was no clue that she’d come to the conclusion that the pity party had actually turned into a sex romp. And more.

  Much more.

  Bree sighed and made a beeline for the kitchen. “Sheez. No coffee,” she grumbled. “I’ll get some started while I tell you all about my dud of an evening. Just as Roman and I were getting ready to head out, he had a family emergency and had to go home. Something to do with his son, so he lit out of there fast. I ended up heading back to my place to watch a documentary on the mating habits of frogs.”

  Maybe it was his and Allie’s silence, but Bree finally seemed to pick up on the clues. Of course, a huge clue was that Ryder had missed a couple of buttons on his shirt, he was only partly zipped and the biggest kicker of all—Allie had a love bite on her neck.

  Hell.

  He didn’t remember marking her up like that, but then he’d spent a lot of time getting familiar with her neck. Along with the rest of her. It was possible there was a hickey or two around her inner thigh region.

  Bree had already grabbed the coffeepot to fill at the sink, but she stopped and eased the pot back onto the counter. Her attention was nailed to them.

  “You two had sex,” Bree finally concluded. She repeated it three times, groaned and sank down onto the floor while she pressed her hands to the sides of her head.

  “It wasn’t planned,” Allie said. “Okay, that’s a lie. It was. I invited Ryder over, and he came after your failed kidnapping attempt. But I hadn’t planned anything before a week ago.”

  Bree volleyed glances between them, maybe hoping this was a prank. Then her shoulders dropped when she likely realized that it wasn’t.

 

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