Candidate For Love (Classic Romance Collection Book 2)

by Lita Lawson

  After stepping out of her vehicle, she stopped a few feet behind him. A tattoo on the back of his shoulder caught her eye, a flying eagle with the words Free Bird emblazoned over it.

  “Hey, JT.”

  Glancing back at her, he replied, “Hi.”

  Tentatively, she laid her fingertips on his skin, warmed by the sun. Tracing the intricate patterns with her fingers, she enjoyed the feel of his taut skin. Lingering a moment longer than necessary, she removed her hand. Thoughts of the evening before swirled in her mind.

  “Did it hurt?” she asked as he continued working on the bike.

  “Nah. I didn’t feel a thing.” He laughed. “Got totally ripped one night and had it done.”

  “I can’t believe I didn’t notice it the other day.”

  “I think we were pretty occupied with better things.”

  She smiled. “I’m just glad you don’t have a girl’s name tattooed anywhere.”

  Christine wanted to clap her hand over her mouth the moment the words were out. She had made no commitment to him, and he had made none to her. They were just two adults enjoying the moment with each other.

  “I’m sorry, JT. I have no right—”

  “That’s okay. There was never a girl I cared enough about to permanently mark her name on my body.” He laughed lightly. “Normally I never stick around long enough to get to a point of caring.”

  Christine’s heart sank. She supposed she would fall into that category along with the others, just a brief stop in the road of JT’s life.

  How had she gotten to a point where she cared and foolishly hoped he might care? She knew he was always on assignments here and there with his job, never staying in one place for long. Once the potential threat against Christine and Sammy was gone, JT would move on. And she’d just be another distant memory.

  JT turned and looked at her. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. Nothing.” She shook her head. “Anyway, I don’t want to keep you since you’re obviously busy . . .”

  “Christine.” He stood up and turned to face her, wiping his greasy hands on a bandana he pulled from his back pocket. “Did you come over for a reason?”

  “I did. But it looks like you’re going to be tied up here.”

  “I can think of better places to be tied up.” When his gaze traveled the length of her body, there was no mistaking the desire that smoldered in his eyes. “It’ll only take me a couple more minutes and I’ll be done. Is there something I can do for you?”

  Was that a loaded question? She tried to keep the irony out of her voice when she said, “Yes. I don’t know if you’d be interested or if it would bore you to tears. Brad had to cancel as my escort tonight for my campaign fundraiser.”

  “I think I can handle that.” Shrugging, he said, “Sure, I’ll go.”

  “It’s at the museum, and it’s kind of formal. Do you have a suit or something? I mean, I don’t know if you do or not.”

  He grinned at her. “Yeah, I have a suit. What time do you want me to pick you up?”

  “Oh, I’ll pick you up. It would be kind of awkward for me to be all dressed up and ride a motorcycle.

  “Sounds great. I’ll be ready.” He leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

  Christine found she wanted more than that from him. Every time she was with JT, he was an irresistible temptation she couldn’t get enough of. And after his comment about how he didn’t stick around long enough to care for anyone, she knew she’d better enjoy her time with him.

  Because he would be gone before she knew it.

  • • •

  After Christine pulled her SUV to a stop in JT’s driveway that evening, she pulled down the sun visor, opened the lighted mirror, and checked her makeup. Pursing her lips, she blotted them one more time for good measure.

  She took a deep breath and walked up to the front porch to knock on the rustic door. Within moments, JT stood in the open doorway looking like a GQ cover model. Christine felt her mouth drop open with surprise. As usual, his attire was monochromatic; his suit, shirt, and tie were all black.

  When she saw how short his hair appeared, slickly combed back, she gasped. “Did you cut your hair?”

  “No.” He grinned and turned his head to show her. “I just pulled it back into a ponytail so it’s not as obvious. I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

  Embarrass her? She felt like she was Cinderella being escorted to the ball by Prince Charming. He looked incredibly dashing, debonair, and delectably sexy. Thoughts of the upcoming fundraiser were replaced by thoughts of what she would like to do to him afterward.

  Licking her lips that suddenly felt parched, she reassured him, “I’ll be the envy of all the women tonight.”

  “Likewise. I know the men will be trying to charm you away from me.” His appraising eyes shone with approval for her attire. “You look quite lovely. I like everything, except when you have your hair up.” He lifted his hand, touching the tendrils of hair that framed her face. “Do you really think wearing your hair like that can hide the fact that you’re a beautiful, sexy woman?”

  His lips softly brushed against the side of her face as he spoke, and Christine’s pulse leaped at the feathery touch. As he nibbled on her diamond-studded earlobe, she closed her eyes and let her head fall backward, exposing her neck.

  JT trailed his finger from her ear down to the hollow of her throat, and twisted his finger in her diamond choker. His lips followed, laying a flaming trail of kisses down her neck to the low-cut vee of her neckline. He ran his hands down the side of her dress, over her hips, and cupped her derriere. He ground his pelvis into hers, showing exactly how desirable he found her.

  He growled in her ear, “We better get in the car. Otherwise I’m going to ravish you here on the porch, and you’ll be late for your own dinner.”

  • • •

  A sudden case of nerves attacked Christine as she walked into the marble foyer of the museum on JT’s arm. He was being the perfect gentleman and seemed right at home in his suit, not even fidgeting with the tie like a lot of men might do. But then, he always appeared in control and relaxed no matter the situation.

  Uncharacteristically, she felt out of place, despite the fact that she’d been to numerous events like this many times before. Was it her imagination, or did the room seem to hush when she and JT walked into the museum’s rotunda? Surely she was letting her imagination get the best of her.

  “Hello, Christine.” Darla Winthrop took Christine’s hand. Her bleached-blond hair fell in large waves that rested on a generous bust. Darla had once again worn a dress that showcased her breasts like they were hors d’oeuvres on a platter.

  Christine pasted on a smile. Darla was married to one of the wealthiest party members in town who was a great supporter of hers. “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Winthrop.”

  “Same here. And who do we have here?” Darla batted her eyes as she looked at JT, and her voice was practically a purr. “I don’t think I’ve seen you at any of these stuffy events before.”

  “Darla, I’d like to introduce you to JT Morris. JT, this is Darla Winthrop, one of my biggest supporters.”

  JT casually shook her hand while Darla placed her other hand on top of his and held it there, making it impossible for him to retrieve his hand without a struggle.

  “What do you do, Mr. Morris?”

  “I’ve done a bit of this and that for the campaign. Attending functions and keeping Christine secure.”

  “Oh my, Christine, wherever did you find him?”

  “Actually, Brad found him.” She wanted to remove Darla’s hand from JT’s as a wave of jealousy overtook her. Darla was fawning over JT as if he were a piece of meat to be sold at auction.

  JT patted Darla’s hand with his free one, squeezed it gently and held it, enabling himself to release her grip. Then he hooked his arm possessively around Christine’s waist.

  She could hardly suppress a smile at his subtle move and secretly enjoyed it. Instea
d, she said, “Darla, where’s your husband?”

  Darla waved her hand nonchalantly. “Somewhere by the bar with all the other men.” Looking beyond Christine, she called, “Sandy, over here,” and waved her hand. “Nice meeting you, JT. Christine.”

  JT bent and whispered in Christine’s ear so no one could overhear. “Do you think she liked me?”

  Christine giggled and nodded.

  “Shall I get you a drink at the bar so you can talk to Mr. Winthrop?”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  As they made their way to the far side of the room, JT asked, “So is this what you have to do to raise money? Spend time with a bunch of self-absorbed rich people?”

  She couldn’t totally disagree with his assessment, so she said, “Yes. But remember, I’m one of those self-absorbed rich people.”

  “Chris, you can’t put yourself in that category. You may have been born rich, but you aren’t self-absorbed. You do more for this community than anyone I know. And you’re definitely not stuffy.”

  “Am I boring?”

  “With kisses like yours, boring isn’t a word that would enter my mind.” He grinned as he maneuvered them to the bar. “What would you like to drink?”

  “Champagne, please.”

  He nodded to the bartender. “A champagne for the lady, and a longneck beer for me.”

  When the bartender served Christine her drink and started to pour JT’s beer into a glass, he said, “No, I like it in the bottle. Thanks just the same.”

  Just then Mr. Winthrop spotted Christine and sauntered over. “Christine, how are you doing, honey?” He took her hand and shook it. “Will you excuse us?” he said to JT as he held her hand and led her away. “I’ve got some friends I think you should meet.”

  She looked over her shoulder at JT, who was leaning nonchalantly against the bar, his fingers holding the neck of the beer bottle. He winked at her, and she turned around and focused on meeting her supporters.

  Nearly an hour passed before Christine was able to search for JT. She saw him walking out of the impressionist section of the museum. He stood and waited for her as she made her way to him.

  “I’m so sorry. I hope you weren’t too bored.”

  “No, I was right at home. I used to spend a lot of time here when I was growing up.”

  “You did?”

  “Surprised?” He shrugged. “Looking at me, I guess most people would be.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply—”

  “It’s okay, Christine.” He grinned. “This was one place I knew I wouldn’t run into kids who wanted to beat me up.”

  “Oh.”

  “Shhh.” He placed his fingers to his lips. “Don’t tell anyone my secret. It would ruin my reputation.”

  She laughed and said, “I need to powder my nose real quick. Will you wait for me, and then we’ll get seated for dinner?”

  “I’ll be right here.”

  She slipped into the ladies’ room and was glad she didn’t have to smile and make small talk for a few minutes. Raising money for herself wasn’t one of her favorite pastimes. She was happy to do it for worthy causes she cared about, like the burn unit at the children’s hospital. She didn’t like relying on others to help her get elected. To have a successful campaign, though, it was a necessary evil.

  She passed several occupied stalls and entered one at the end. A couple of giggling women entered the restroom and started talking.

  Christine was trying to mentally run through her speech when she couldn’t help but overhear their conversation.

  “Can you believe that? I mean, she’s barely divorced from her husband, and here she is on the arm of God knows who.”

  “I think he’s from around here,” the other woman said and sighed. “Who cares how long she’s been divorced. With a piece of eye candy like that on my arm, I’d be the happiest woman alive.”

  Christine wondered who they were talking about.

  “He is to die for, isn’t he?” the first woman said. “But why did she bring him here of all places? He doesn’t belong in this crowd. And did you see how long his hair was?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “I would love to see him out of that suit. His body looks like a Greek statue.”

  “How I would like to see what’s under his grape leaf!”

  They burst out laughing.

  Christine’s face flushed with anger as she realized they could only be talking about her and JT. Emerging from her stall, she went to confront the women, but the door was just closing behind them.

  As she washed her hands, she studied herself in the mirror. Was she shallow like them? Was it impossible for JT to fit in her world? Just because he had long hair and drank his beer out of a bottle instead of a glass didn’t mean he was any different from anyone else.

  If people wanted to be that shallow, she couldn’t help it and didn’t condone it. JT was a good man and was wonderful to Sammy and her. She was honored to be with him, and left the restroom holding her head high.

  When she found JT waiting for her in the rotunda, she took a moment to observe him objectively. He stood tall with an air of confidence about him, and was the most handsome man she had ever seen. And if his hair was long, that didn’t matter to her. If people wanted to talk, let them. She didn’t care.

  She slipped her hand in his and said, “Sorry I took so long. Are you ready to take our seats?”

  “Sure.”

  Christine led him to the head table and found their place cards. He pulled her chair out and waited while she sat down. Then he settled in next to her on her right with his thigh pressed against hers.

  On his other side was Mr. Winthrop, with his wife on his right. At least Christine didn’t have to worry about Darla making a fool of herself fawning over JT during dinner.

  Chapter 11

  Christine’s speech focused on her campaign issues and included improving the public school system, the economic climate of the city, and the need for greater pollution measures. The last issue was a bit of a controversial one as the party she represented was comprised of conservative business leaders. But she believed in improving the community image as well as the health of its residents, especially the children.

  After a muted round of applause, she made her way back to her seat next to JT. He stood and pulled it out for her.

  During dinner she realized she’d had nothing to worry about with JT fitting in. Apparently Mr. Winthrop had an antique soft-tail Harley. She listened as the two men had a long conversation about different motorcycles they had owned.

  JT’s hand resting on her thigh ensured she didn’t feel excluded from the conversation. It made her think of something else for dessert besides the cheesecake she was toying with.

  When a band set up in the rotunda started playing, JT leaned over to Christine. “Don’t you have to start the dancing?”

  “Me? Why would I do that?”

  “I always thought it was customary, you know, like at a wedding. The bride and groom have to do the first dance. Wouldn’t that be the same at an event like this?”

  “I guess so. But I’m not really that great at dancing.”

  He smiled. “From what I saw when you and Sammy were painting the porch, you can shake your ‘bon-bon’ just fine.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her from the chair. “Let’s go.”

  They stood together, the only ones on the dance floor. JT wrapped his arm around her lower back and pressed her against him. She placed her hand on his shoulder and fitted her other hand into JT’s, weaving their fingers together.

  Her high heels gave her added height, bringing her eye level with him. His gaze stayed fixed with hers, his smoldering dark amber eyes hinting at things to come.

  Sighing, Christine turned her face to the side and rested her chin on his shoulder. They moved as one with the rhythm, and she found JT was an excellent dancer. He had a sensuousness about the way he moved, slowly, and with purpose. It reminded her of how he made love.

  “D
o you feel everyone watching us?” she whispered.

  His gravelly voice tickled her ear. “They’re looking at you, babe. There isn’t a more beautiful woman in the place tonight, including the artwork and sculptures.”

  He removed his hand that was clasping hers and rested it on her waist with the other one. She wrapped her arms around his neck, enjoying the long, hard feel of him against her. She inhaled the musky scent of him and swore she could still smell a whiff of leather mixed in.

  Her body reacted to the subtle movements of the dance. A hot desire tingled in her lower region while her breasts pressed firmly against him ached for his touch.

  “This is torture,” she whispered on an exhale into his ear.

  “No.” She swore she could hear a hint of humor in his voice as he whispered back, “This is what I would call foreplay.”

  She let out a throaty laugh. “Is that a promise?”

  “Hell, yes!”

  The song ended and they were leaving the dance floor when the Winthrops took the stage. Darla gazed enviously at JT as he and Christine walked past them.

  “How much longer do we have to stay?” JT asked as he led her back to their table.

  “I wish we could leave now,” she confessed. “But we need to stay a little while longer.”

  Looking down at the remainder of her cheesecake, she realized she’d prefer JT for dessert.

  • • •

  “Do you have time to come in for a bit?” JT asked when they arrived at his cabin.

  Christine put the SUV in park and looked at her watch. “I have about an hour before I need to pick Sammy up.”

  “That’ll do,” he replied gruffly and got out of the car. Walking to her side, he opened the door for her. Pulling her to her feet, he kissed her long and hard. “Do you have any idea how I’ve wanted to do that all evening?”

  Breathlessly she replied, “No, but I’m glad you did.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, she leaned into him, pressing her breasts against his solid chest.

  JT walked her toward his porch, still embracing her. “The way you handled everybody, and your speech and all you want to do for the city, it made me so proud of you.” He kissed her again, long and lazy, savoring the sweetness of her lips.