“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I hardly remember her.” She waited for him to say something about losing his parents when he’d been a boy. He didn’t and she straightened and handed him the Crown Royal. “Sorry. It isn’t as good as Bushmills 21.”
He took the bottle from her and unscrewed the cap. “Company is better, though.” He poured three fingers of whiskey over the ice.
“You don’t know me.”
He put the bottle on the counter and raised the glass to his lips. “That’s one of the things I like about you.” He took a drink, then added, “I didn’t sit next to you in second grade. Your sister isn’t friends with my sister and your mama wasn’t best friends with my mama.”
No, but she’d been pretty good friends with your daddy. “Tanya wasn’t raised around here.”
“True, but she’s too uptight. She can’t just relax and have a good time.” He lowered his glass and looked out into the living room. “This is one of the older houses on the lake.”
“The realtor said it was built in the forties.”
He leaned forward a little and looked down the hall toward the bathroom and bedrooms. “It looks different from the last time I was here.”
“I was told that the kitchen and the bathrooms were remodeled last year.” Maddie took a drink. “When were you here last?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” He straightened and looked down into her face. “I was probably about fifteen. So about twenty years ago.”
“Did you have a friend who lived here?”
“You could say that. Although I don’t know if I’d call Brandy Green a friend.” A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth as he added, “Her parents were at the Pendleton Rodeo in Oregon.”
“And you had your own private rodeo?”
The little smile turned into a wicked grin. “You could say that.”
She frowned. “Which room was Brandy’s?”
He’d probably carved his initials into the ceiling beam.
“Can’t say.” He rattled the ice in his glass, then raised the glass to his lips. “Spent most of our time in her parents’ room. Their bed was bigger.”
“Oh, my God! You’ve had sex in my bedroom.” She put her hand on her chest. “I haven’t even had sex in that bedroom.” The second she blurted that out, she wished the floor would open up and she would fall through. She didn’t embarrass herself often, but she hated when it happened. Especially when he tipped his head back and laughed. “It’s not funny.”
“Yes, it is.” After a few more moments of hilarity on his part, he said, “Honey, we could take care of that right now.”
If his offer had felt the least bit threatening or smarmy, she would have kicked him out of her house. Instead it was simple and straightforward and made her smile even when she didn’t want to. “No, thanks.”
“You sure?” He took another drink, then set his glass on the counter.
“I’m sure.”
“I’m a lot better at it than the last time I was here.” The smile he gave her was filled with an irresistible mix of charm, confidence, and pure sin. “I’ve had lots of practice since then.”
She hadn’t had any practice lately. A fact brought home to her by the tightening in her breasts and the warm tug in her stomach. Mick was the last man on earth for whom she should fall off the sexual wagon. Her head knew that, but her body didn’t seem to care.
He reached for her hand and brushed his thumb across the backs of her knuckles. “Do you know what I like best about you?”
“My Crown?”
He shook his head.
“That I don’t want a white wedding, picket fence, and a baby maker?”
“Besides that.” He pulled her toward him. “You smell good.”
She set her glass on the counter and thought back to the lotion she’d put on earlier.
He lifted her hand and smelled the inside of her wrist. “Like cherries, maybe.”
“Almonds.”
“Yesterday it was chocolate. Today it’s almonds. It makes me wonder what you’ll smell like tomorrow.” He put her hand on his shoulder.
“Peaches.” Probably.
He pushed one side of her hair back and low ered his face to the side of her neck. “I like peaches about as much as I like chocolate and almonds. You make me hungry.”
She knew the feeling. “Maybe you should hurry over to your sister’s for some pea casserole.” She felt his soft laughter against her skin a moment before he placed hot openmouthed kisses on the side of her throat. A shiver ran down her spine and her head fell to one side. She’d have to stop him, but not now. In a minute.
“Maybe I should just eat you.”
Her eyes closed and she knew she was in trouble. This couldn’t be happening. Mick Hennessy could not be in her house, telling her he wanted to eat her and making her have bad thoughts about where he should start. Making her want to run her hand up his chest and her fingers through his hair.
“Do you know what I’d do to you if I had more time?” His hands grasped her waist and he drew her against him. She felt the swell beneath his button fly, and she had a pretty good idea.
She swallowed hard as he lightly bit her earlobe. “Try to get another look at the master bedroom?”
He raised his head and his sexy blue eyes had gone all sleepy with desire. “Who needs a bedroom?”
That was true. Her hand slid across his shoulder and up the side of his neck. Perhaps it had been a mistake to go without sex for so long. The press of his body felt so incredible she didn’t want him to stop. But he had to, of course. In a minute.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Maddie.” He brushed his lips lightly across hers. “If I had more time, I’d untie your dress for you.”
“I can untie my own dress.”
One side of his mouth lifted at the corner. “It’s more fun if I do it.” Then he kissed her, a soft and tantalizing press of his mouth. He teased her, drawing out the kiss until her fingers combed through his short hair to the back of his head and her lips parted. His tongue entered her mouth, wet and so good; he tasted like whiskey and lust. Liquid heat pooled between her thighs, and she slid her free hand up his flat stomach, feeling the hard contours of his chest. It had been so long. So long since she’d touched a man like this. Kissed him. Wanted to glue herself to him. Since her skin felt itchy and tight and made her want to tear at his clothes and feel the press of naked skin. It had been a long time. Partly because she’d given up on this, and partly because no man had tempted her like Mick.
His hands slipped up the sides of her waist. His grasp tightened and his thumbs pressed into her stomach just below her breasts. He tilted his head to one side and lightly sucked her tongue into his mouth, where he was warm and slick. Her fingers curled in his hair and she pressed herself against his hard body. Her nipples tightened against his hard chest and he groaned deep in his throat. This was quickly spinning out of control. A whirling cyclone of need and greed and long-denied pleasure, building deep inside and working its way out. Growing and threatening to overpower her.
She pulled back. “Stop.”
He looked as dazed as she felt. “Why?”
“Because…” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Because you don’t know who I am and when you find out you’ll hate me. “Because you have to go have dinner with your sister.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but then his brows lowered as if he’d forgotten. “Damn.” His grasp on her tightened a fraction before he took a step back and dropped his hands to his sides. “I didn’t mean to start something I can’t finish.”
“I didn’t mean to start anything at all.” Maddie licked her lips and debated whether to come clean. Right there. Right now. Before he heard it from someone in town. “This is definitely not a good idea.”
“You’re wrong about that.” He reached for her hand and pulled her along with him toward the front door. “The only thing wrong is my timing.”
“But you don’t know me,” she protested as she moved beside him to the entry.
“What’s the rush?” He opened the door, but stopped in the threshold. He looked down into her face and let out a heavy breath. “Okay, what do I need to know?”
And she chickened out. Or rather, decided that telling him while her body still craved his wasn’t the best timing. Instead she chose another approach. “I’m kind of sexually abstinent.”
“Kind of?” He looked down into her face. “How can you be ‘kind of sexually abstinent’?”
Yeah. How? “I just haven’t had sex with a man in a very long time.”
His brows drew together. “Are you a lesbian?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so. You don’t kiss like a lesbian.”
“How do you know?”
One second she was looking up into his blue eyes, and in the next she was up against his body. His mouth closed over hers and he fed her kisses so hot she felt it in the pit of her stomach. He pulled the oxygen from her lungs and made her dizzy. Lord, she couldn’t breathe or think. She was going to pass out from pleasure.
He let go of her and she fell back against the doorframe. “That’s how I know,” he said.
“My God, you’re like a tornado,” she gasped. She placed her fingers on her bottom lip. Her mouth felt numb. “Sucking up everything around you.”
“Not everything.” He stepped out onto the porch and into the sunlight. “And not yet.”
Chapter 6
Maddie stood with her hands sticking straight out from her shoulders as Nan, the seamstress, pinned peach satin beneath her armpits. The other two bridesmaids stood on either side of her in various degrees of undress while being pinned and poked.
“You owe me,” she said to her friend Clare, the blushing bride-to-be. She’d driven down from Truly that morning and planned to go out with her friends before driving back the next day.
“Look at it this way,” Clare said from her position on the couch inside of Nan’s Bridal. “At least the dresses aren’t all froufrou like the dresses Lucy made us wear for her wedding.”
“Hey. Those were beautiful,” Lucy protested,
defending her choice of froufrou while a second seamstress pinned her hem.
“We looked like prom escapees,” Adele argued. Adele held up her thick curly hair as a woman pinned the back of her dress. “But I’ve seen worse. My cousin Jolene made her bridesmaids wear purple and white toile de Jouy.”
Clare, the arbiter of exquisite taste, gasped.
“Toile like the pastoral prints you see on chairs and wallpaper?” Maddie asked.
“Yep. They looked like sofas. Especially Jolene’s friend who was a little roomier than the other girls.”
“That’s sad.” Lucy turned so the seamstress could work on the back of the hem.
“Criminal,” Adele added. “Some things should just be against the law. Or if not, there should be some reparation for putting a person through emotional stress.”
“What did Dwayne do now?” Clare asked, referring to Adele’s old boyfriend.
For two years Adele had dated Dwayne Larkin and had thought she just might end up as Mrs. Larkin. She’d overlooked his more undesirable habits, like smelling the armpits of his shirts before he put them on because he’d been buff and very hot. She’d put up with his beer-swilling, Star Wars–obsessed ways, because not everyone was perfect. But the moment he’d told her she was getting a “fat ass” like her mother, she’d kicked him out of her life. No one used the f-word in relation to her behind or insulted her deceased mama. But Dwayne wouldn’t go completely. Every few weeks, Adele would find on her porch one or two of the presents she’d given to him or things she’d left at his house. The stuff would just be lying there. No note. No Dwayne. Just random-as-hell items.
“For his birthday, I gave him a limited-edition Darth Vader.” Adele dropped her hands and her thick blond hair fell down her back. “I found it on my porch with the head cut off.”
Maddie could understand Dwayne’s issue with the gift, but for different reasons. If she opened a birthday present and found a Darth Vader, limited edition or not, she’d get fairly pissed off. But still, any sort of violence should never be taken lightly. “You need to get an alarm system. Do you still have the stun gun I got you?”
Adele held still as the seamstress measured the circumference of her arm. “Somewhere.”
“You need to find it and zap him with it.” Nan moved to Maddie’s bodice and she dropped her arms to her sides. “Or better yet, let me get you a Cobra like I have, and you can Taser his ass with fifty thousand volts.”
Without moving her body, Adele turned her head and looked at Maddie like she was the crazy one. “Won’t that kill him?”
Maddie thought a moment. “Does he have a heart condition?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then no,” Maddie answered. Nan took a step back to eye her progress. “He’ll convulse like you’re killing him, though.”
Adele’s and Clare’s mouths fell open in shock, as if she’d lost what little mind she had left, but Lucy nodded. She’d fought for her life against a serial killer and knew firsthand the importance of personal safety devices. “And when you have him on the ground, douse him with pepper spray.”
“Dwayne is an idiot, but he’s not violent,” Adele said. “Although seeing the Darth Vader did remind me of something horrible.”
“What?” If Dwayne had ever hit Adele, Maddie would hunt him down and zap him herself.
“He has my Princess Leia slave costume.”
Clare scooted to the edge of the couch. “You have a slave costume?”
Maddie only had one question. “Are you shitting me?”
Lucy had two. “What’s that?” And, “Do you mean a metal bikini?”
As if a metal slave bikini were a normal part of a woman’s wardroom, Adele nodded. “Yeah. And I’d really like to have it back in one piece.” She thought a moment, then added, “Well, the two pieces…and the armbands and collar.” She must have noticed her friends’ expressions, ranging from appalled to worried, because she added, “Hey, I spent a lot of money on that costume and I want it back.” The seamstress stepped away to write down a measurement and Adele folded her arms under her breasts. “Don’t tell me you girls have never role-played.”
Lucy shook her head. “No, but I used to pretend that an old boyfriend was Jude Law. He didn’t know it, though, so I don’t think that counts.”
Clare, who always tried to make everyone feel better, said, “Well, I told Sebastian once that I had costumes and handcuffs.” She sat back on the sofa. “But I lied. Sorry.”
Maddie glanced at the three seamstresses to see their reactions. They looked as poker-faced as Sunday school teachers. They’d probably heard worse. She turned her gaze to Adele, who’d tilted her head to one side as if she were waiting for something.
“What?” Maddie asked.
“I know you’ve done kinky stuff.”
Mostly Maddie was just talk. “I’ve never dressed up.” She thought a moment and in an effort to sooth Adele she confessed, “But if it makes you feel better, I’ve been tied up.”
“Me too.”
“Of course.”
“Big deal.” Adele didn’t look placated. “
Everyone’s been tied up.”
“That’s true,” Nan the seamstress added. She plucked a pin from the cushion on her wrist and glanced over at Adele. “And if it makes you feel better, every now and again I dress up as Little Red Riding Hood.”
“Thank you, Nan.”
“You’re welcome.” She made a spinning motion with her finger. “Turn, please.”
After the bridesmaids were done with their fittings, the four friends drove to their favorite place to meet for lunch. Cafй Olй didn’t have the best Mexican food in town, but it did have the best pitchers of margaritas. They were shown to one of their favorite booths, and over piped-in mariachi Muza
k, they caught up. They talked about Clare’s wedding and Lucy’s plans to start a family with her hunk of a husband Quinn. And they wanted to hear all about Maddie’s life, one hundred miles north in Truly.
“It’s actually not as bad as I’d thought,” she said as she raised her drink to her lips. “It’s very beautiful and quiet—well, except on the Fourth. Half the women in town have really bad hair, and the other half look great. I’m trying to figure out if it’s a native vs. snowbird thing, but so far I can’t tell.” She shrugged. “I thought spending so much time cooped up in my house would drive me insane, but it hasn’t.”
“You know I love you,” Lucy said, which was always followed by a but. “But you are already totally insane.”
Probably that was true.
“How’s the book?” Clare asked as a waitress brought their food.
“Slow.” She’d ordered a chicken tostada salad and picked up her fork as soon as the waitress left. She’d only told her friends about her plans to write about her mother’s death a few weeks ago, long after she’d found the diaries and bought her house in Truly. She didn’t know why she’d waited. She usually wasn’t shy about sharing the details of her personal life with her friends, sometimes to their shock and horror, but reading her mother’s diaries had left her so raw, she’d needed time to adjust and take it all in before she talked about it with anyone.
“Have you met the Hennessys?” Adele asked as she dug into an enchilada oozing with cheese and topped with sour cream. Adele worked out every day, and as a result could eat whatever she wanted. Maddie, on the other hand, hated exercise.
“I’ve met Mick and his nephew Travis.”
“What was Mick’s reaction to your writing the book?”
“Well, he doesn’t know.” She took a bite of her salad, then added, “The time just hasn’t been right to talk to him about it.”
“So.” Lucy’s brows drew together. “What have you talked to him about?”
That neither of them could see themselves married and that he liked her butt and the way she smelled. “Mice, mostly.” Which was kind of the truth.
“Wait.” Adele held up one hand. “He knows who you are, who your mother was, and he just wants to chat about mice?”
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