"They stay indoors, so they won't rush your yard the way Gigi did," he explained with a smile as he ushered her down the hall to a doorway at the end. His fingers rested lightly against the small of her back and awareness whispered along her nerve endings. "Prepare yourself." He looked at her with a hint of consternation. "Too bad you don't have any shades with you." He threw open the door. "Behold the kitchen."
Beautiful sunny walls embraced turquoise counter-tops and appliances. It reminded her of a Mexican plaza on a warm afternoon. "Awesome. I love it."
"You do?" His expression verged on comical. Obviously that wasn't his take.
"Of course. How could anyone ever be depressed in such a great room?" She couldn't frown in this room even if she wanted to. "Doesn't it make you want to smile when you walk in?"
"Uh…" Apparently not.
Tammy pressed on, caught up in the room's potential. "Some orange—well, really more like tangerine—curtains with the yellow and turquoise in them would tie everything together. Maybe toss in a splash of lime green. Funky but fun, in a happy kind of way."
If that didn't scare the bejezus out of him, nothing would. Men freaked when women made suggestions about their space, place or person. Jerry had nearly lost his mind when she'd vetoed hanging a mounted deer head in their bedroom—like she wanted a dead Bambi eyeballing her when she was trying to sleep or do other things. Niall looked a tad bemused, much like when he'd seen her naked earlier. "Orange?"
"Hmm. Tangerine. Trust me. I've been into this decorating thing lately." She'd had a blast with her own house, discovering a sense of style she never knew she possessed.
"Okay. I can use all the help I can get." He looked around the room, as if he could actually see it taking on a new appeal. "Funky but fun."
Tammy leaned against the counter and laughed. "You've never done funky before?"
Niall ran a hand over his hair which did nothing to smooth it down. "No. But I wouldn't mind giving it a try. I wanted a fresh start." He glanced at the turquoise refrigerator and shook his head. "It's definitely funky compared to matching cherry cabinetry."
"It sounds hideously traditional and conservative." Tammy would take the wild, bold beauty of this room over matching cherry any day.
Niall laughed. "I wouldn't call it hideous, but it was conservative, except for the price tag. I'll try to remember tangerine with yellow and turquoise."
"Just go into Bergman's and look a little lost. Women will fall all over themselves to help you."
"I can certainly manage to look lost. That won't be a problem. I'm not sure about the falling all over themselves business." On some men, the modesty would've been calculated. Niall actually seemed clueless that the single women of Colthersville would be on him like white on rice.
"Trust me on this. I'm sure and I'm a woman."
"I noticed." The husky note in his voice and the look in his eyes trailed heat through her.
Awareness arced between them. She eased her tongue along her dry bottom lip and he clenched his jaw. A whine and a scratch at the back door eased the tension of a man and a woman in close quarters and brought them back to two neighbors chatting in the kitchen. Niall opened the door.
"I know where the clinic is, but other than that I'm clueless. What and where is Bergman's?" he asked as the Big Dog lumbered in and ambled over to sniff Tammy.
Time for her to go. She didn't trust Big Dog with his crotch-sniffing and enormous jaws. No one could ever accuse Niall of being a shallow pet owner—he hadn't chosen his animals based on beauty, that was for sure.
She headed back down the hall toward the front door. "It's the local everything store. Just watch out for Henrietta Williams, the owner. She's a woman with a mission—finding a husband for her daughter Candy."
Niall followed, his masculine scent of soap and deodorant teasing her from behind. "And what would be so bad about that?"
He had to ask? "You could wake up and find yourself married before you knew what hit you."
He reached around her, close enough that she felt his body heat, and opened the door for her. "I'm ready to settle down."
Tammy stepped out onto the porch, away from temptation. He was sexy, single … and looking to get married?
What a shame.
* * *
3
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Niall took the long way to Tammy's via the sidewalk rather than across the yard. Despite the warmth of the day, the temperature had plummeted when the sun disappeared. Between the crisp air and the colorful Christmas decorations on the houses, it felt and looked like late November.
Multicolored lights blinked on a Christmas tree in Tammy's front window. A plastic nativity set glowed on her front lawn. He wasn't sure whether he was the luckiest or the unluckiest sod in the world to be living next door to Tammy Cooper. She was sexy, flirty and simply being around her threw him seriously off balance. Niall didn't do off-kilter. He expected things to be a certain way and they usually were.
His stomach rumbled as he knocked on the front door. He was starving. A fast-food lunch snagged from a drive-thru along the way had been a long time ago. He'd accept a meal from Genghis Khan.
Tammy opened the door with a smile that did dangerous things to his pulse.
"Hi, come on in."
She looked and smelled a whole lot better than Genghis. She'd changed into a black shirt and pants that hugged her feminine curves. Bracelets encircled half the length between her wrist and forearm. Her scent, an exotic blend of spices, tantalized him. A harem girl fantasy popped into his tired, overwrought brain and refused to budge. Her wearing only those bracelets and a bunch of veils. Smooth gold skin. Navel ring. Her exotic fragrance.
Niall stepped inside and her arm brushed against his. Heat sizzled though him at the brief contact. What kind of heat would an intentional caress generate? Maybe he was simply tired and hungry but she blew his composure to hell. He turned to face her as she closed the door behind him. "I brought a six-pack of beer. Unfortunately, it's warm, but I didn't want to show up empty-handed."
She took the package. "You didn't have to do that, but thanks."
Niall looked around the room, convinced that was a better plan than gawking at her.
If his kitchen was happy, her house was nearly ecstatic. From outside, it looked like the other neighborhood houses, but inside it was bright and bold. Yellow-gold walls and furniture in a mix of reds, purples and bright blues created a room that was comfortable and inviting without being fussy. "This is great."
For a moment he glimpsed something akin to insecurity in her eyes—as if she'd been nervous about his response to her house. Quick as a flash it was gone and she smiled, obviously pleased by his response. "Yeah. I like it. Sort of vintage meets eclectic. I'm still working on it, but it's been fun. That's one of the great things about living alone. You only have to please yourself." She arched her brow. "I bet Mia never let you keep your workout equipment in the dining room."
Niall grinned at the thought of his Nautilus machine sandwiched between Ethan Allen dining room pieces. "How'd you know?"
"Woman's intuition." Her slow smile spiraled heat through him. "Come on. If you don't mind hanging out in the kitchen. You can put a dent in the chips and salsa while I make the salad. You must be ravenous."
"I wouldn't turn food down. Thanks for inviting me over. Something smells good." His stomach growled as backup.
"Bread and baked potatoes. The steaks will only take a minute." He followed her, mesmerized by the sway of her hips and the curve of her back. She pointed to a small hallway to the right. "Bathroom and two bedrooms over there. This is really more of a cottage than a house but it's mine." The note of pride in her declaration was unmistakable. "And here's the kitchen."
At least a dozen flickering candles, of various shapes and sizes, casts shadows on the walls, creating a cozy intimacy in the galley kitchen despite the regular lighting over the sink. From the wax puddles, Niall surmised Tammy was into a candlelit kitchen, guest or n
o guest. Vintage Al Green crooned from a cabinet-mounted CD player. Lots of atmosphere. Very sexy. Very relaxing. "Very nice."
"Thanks. Have a seat and I'll get you something to drink. How about one of those beers you drooled over earlier?"
"I'm holding you to it." Niall settled on a stool at a tile-topped island that doubled as a table in the compact kitchen. A large bowl of chips, salsa and guacamole sat in the middle of the island.
"One beer coming up." She opened the fridge and bent forward, molding her black slacks across her heart-shaped bottom and damn near giving him a heart attack. "Help yourself to the chips and salsa. Be careful with the salsa. It's hot."
"That's what you said earlier. I'm sure I can handle it." He stared at the smooth expanse of skin bared by her shirt riding up above the waist of her pants, not nearly as confident he could handle himself around her.
She straightened, two beer bottles in hand and a smile lighting face. "Ah, a man after my own heart."
She pulled a couple of frosty mugs from the freezer and opened the bottles. "How do you like it? Head or no head?"
Holy mother of Christ. His earlier harem girl fantasy supplied a mental image that left him happy to be seated. It promised to be one long night if he continued to read sexual meaning into her every utterance. "Head, please."
She offered another slow, sexy smile that sizzled through him. "Coming right up." Yeah, he was.
"I like head, as well. There you are." She carefully placed the beer on the tile in front of him. "Thanks."
She sat across from him. Her foot skimmed his calf, sending heat spiraling through him. "Sorry," she murmured as she shifted.
The moment pulsed with a sensuality that left him breathless. Her scent. The candles. The music. Her touch. Her provocative comments.
"Please. Have some."
He gave way to temptation and sampled what was in front of him. "Good chips and salsa." Hot enough to keep him awake but not incendiary. He took a long pull of beer, relishing the cold bite of hops and foam against his tongue and throat. "Ahh, just the thing at the end of a move."
"Why Colthersville?" she asked. Niall noticed her upper lip was slightly larger than her lower lip, giving her mouth a sensuous pout.
"I grew up a Navy brat. Sixteen different schools from kindergarten to high school. Of all the places we lived, I liked the south the best—the people, the weather, the food. Plus I spent my summers in a small town, Raeburn, with my grandparents. I knew from the time I was a kid, small-town life was for me. When I heard Dr. Schill was selling his practice, I went for it. Colthersville seems like a nice place to settle down and raise a family."
Slightly embarrassed, Niall realized he'd just offered a long-winded soliloquy of his life. And that was probably more information than she wanted or needed. She was too easy to talk to. "What about you? You said you'd only lived here a couple of months?"
Tammy sipped her beer. White flecks of foam clung to her upper lip. She swiped her tongue along the full line of her mouth, devastating his concentration and composure. "My roots run deep in Colthersville. I was born and raised here. I only bought this house eight months ago. I'd been living with Pops after Earl and I split up."
She spoke matter-of-factly about her divorce. Not that he wanted her crying in her beer, but she didn't seem particularly brokenhearted or pissed or bitter—all very real emotions he'd seen in other divorced couples. He wasn't brokenhearted and he wasn't bitter, but he was pissed about his breakup with Mia. Maybe she'd worked through all of the above. "How long have you been divorced?"
She circled the rim of her mug with her fingertip. "Almost twenty-four hours." She laughed at the surprise that must've shown on his face. "How about you? Well, not divorced but, ya know, splitsville?"
"Things were over a couple of months ago. I wanted to get married. She didn't. I stayed in the house until it was time for me to move."
She crumbled a chip into small pieces on her saucer. "That must've been a party."
It had been damn awkward. "Luckily it was a big house and we tried to stay out of each other's way."
"Do you miss her?" Her soft question surprised him. No one had asked him that.
Denial sat on the tip of his tongue, driven by pride. But the sincere curiosity on Tammy's face prompted him to say what he hadn't faced before now. "Yeah, I guess I do. We were friends. At least we were 'til the end."
"Maybe you'll get back together." She pushed her chin-length hair behind her ear.
"No." That wasn't pride talking, just surety. "There's not a lot of middle ground when one person wants to get married and the other one doesn't. Even that aside, it felt final when I left. It's over." For the first time he could say it without a bitter note.
She nodded, her blue eyes inscrutable. "Earl and I tried a year's separation, but it was over when I moved out."
"Do you miss him?"
"I did at first. Until I realized how much I liked being on my own."
He was ridiculously relieved she wasn't pining for her ex-husband.
"The papers came today," she continued. "Sunbathing is my way of celebrating!"
It was a provocative reminder. "Do you do that often?" he asked, recalling with gut-clenching clarity her full, dusky-tipped breasts, the glint of her navel ring against her golden skin, the tangle of curls nestled between her thighs and the length of her legs.
"Which one? Divorce or sunbathe naked?" Her smile seduced. "Neither one anymore. That was my third strike and I'm out of the marriage game for good—" he didn't have to be a boy genius to figure that one out "—and as for the other, I don't want to upset the new neighbors."
"I can't speak for the other neighbors, but don't let me cramp your style." He wasn't normally much of a flirt, but Tammy's easy sensuality inspired him.
"Ah, but can I trust Gigi to leave my naked toes alone? They're very sensitive, you know." She glanced at him from beneath her lashes. One playful comment, a provocative look and she totally turned him on.
"I'm sure they are." The thought of sensitive naked toes and sensitive naked other parts left him aching. Talking about something other than naked parts might not be a bad idea. Besides, he found that the more he knew about her, the more he wanted to know. "What do you do?"
"I'm a massage therapist." Oh, hell, that just intensified the naked parts fantasies lurking at the back of his mind. "I started my own business five months ago and it's going well." Her husky laugh held an underlying note of self-consciousness. "I finally figured out what I wanted to be when I grew up. Before that I did a little bit of everything. I was a nail technician, a waitress, and a grocery store checkout clerk." She propped her chin in her hand and fixed him with her bright blue eyes. "How about you? How long have you been a vet?"
She looked as if she really cared and wasn't just making polite conversation. Actually, Tammy impressed him as doing exactly what she wanted and the niceties be damned. She'd certainly been forthright about Schill, her ex-husbands and her reputation.
"I finished vet school five years ago, but I knew that's what I wanted to do from the time I was a kid. Except for the summer I was six and wanted to drive an ice-cream truck."
Tammy laughed, "Talk about a shift in ambition. Why a vet?"
"It just felt right. I've always liked animals and I like to fix things. I drove my mom nuts bringing home sick animals."
Throughout the meal preparation and dinner, they discussed everything from movies—she preferred suspense rather than his action thrillers—to the NFL playoffs. With a start, Niall realized they'd finished eating some time ago and a number of the candles had burned low.
Reluctantly, he pushed away from the island. "Thanks for a great dinner. I should be getting home." He couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed himself so much. "Let me help with the dishes before I go"
"They're no big deal." Tammy blew off his offer.
"Good. Then it shouldn't take us long to get them done."
"A man who does dishes—let this get ou
t and the women really will swamp you."
Twice she'd alluded to other women swamping him. Was she trying to tell him she wasn't interested? But he hadn't gotten that impression at all. She felt the attraction between them—he'd seen it in her eyes more than once tonight.
"Didn't any of your husbands ever help out in the kitchen?" He was no saint, but his mother had taught him and his brother and sister to clean up after themselves, and he'd figured out early on that cutting the work in half left more time for him and Mia. Not only was he not into having someone wait on him, it led to sex on a much more regular basis.
"Jerry, my first husband, thought wife was another word for maid. I was so young and dumb at seventeen, I went along with it, but Allen and Earl were okay."
"Seventeen?" That seemed incredibly young. The summer Niall was seventeen, his father'd been stationed in Southern California at Point Magu. He'd spent his time cruising the Pacific Highway
in his buddy's beat-up convertible and learning to surf. Tammy'd already been married.
"It seemed like the thing to do at the time." Her husky voice feathered across his skin. He turned to pass the plates to her as she spoke. Squeezed into the tight space between the island and the sink, her hip bumped his thigh and his arm pressed against hers.
He'd never been aware of a woman to such a devastating degree. He felt on fire for her.
"Do you regret getting married so young?" He didn't normally quiz people this way, but he felt compelled to know more about her—everything about her.
She looked up at him, her eyes serious. "Regret's pointless—a waste of energy. We're shaped by our past. If you regret where you've been, how can you like who you've become?" She closed the dishwasher and dried her hands. As if blown away by a gust of wind, her intensity vanished and she was once again flashing a naughty-girl smile. "Now I'm going to give you directions to the grocery store because the neighbors will talk if you show up for breakfast tomorrow morning."
Tammy pulled a pen and paper out of a drawer. Bracing one hand on the island, Niall leaned over her shoulder. He forgot to read what she was writing, distracted by her nearness. An errant lock of her hair brushed against his chin as she looked up. Her breath fanned against his chin, her scent wrapped around him. In the light of the flickering candles and small lamp, her skin glowed and her blue eyes darkened.
BARELY BEHAVING Page 3