by Liz Talley
“Tonight?” Her brown eyes narrowed.
“I’m making my famous Burning Hart chili, sans the fat and cholesterol. The Cowboys are on Monday Night Football. Care to join us?” He hadn’t planned on making that meal, but he could wing it. Pick up some ground turkey from the grocery store and whip up a mean low-fat version of his tailgate chili.
“Well, okay. How’s that meet the requirement for number one?” She tilted her head, a spark of humor returning to her warm eyes.
“Number one is learn how to relax. Although, I’m not sure football is relaxing. Last time, the quarterback’s bad throw gave my grandfather a heart attack. We’ll just go with the flow.” He picked up his sander and carpentry box and started toward the house. He wanted to stay and flirt with Dawn, but they both had work to do.
He hurried up the back stairs, tossing a nod toward his grandfather and Elvera, who were wandering around the backyard staring assessingly at each tree. Leaves crackled underfoot and through the screened back door he could smell something fragrant cooking. Again, possibility welled within him.
He felt Dawn behind him, knew she was struggling with the bag she’d taken from him. He reached back and scooped it from her grasp.
“And don’t forget number two.”
“What’s number two?” She held the squeaky door open wide so he could squeeze through.
“I guess you’ll find out.”
DAWN GROWLED AT HERSELF in the mirror. Her stupid hair wouldn’t curl properly on one side and the golden sand eye shadow made her brown eyes look squinty. But her lips looked good. She’d raided Nellie’s supply of designer makeup and found iced mocha latte lip gloss. The neutral color made her mouth look kissable.
Which was a good thing.
Because she planned on using those puppies tonight. As the hot water had sluiced over her body in the shower, she’d decided kissing would be okay. Tyson had been right. She’d been guarding the door to her heart a little too closely. A few dates here and there wouldn’t hurt. They weren’t falling in love, merely exploring the boundaries of a relationship.
She relifted her breasts in the red lace push-up bra before slipping into the wool dress. It covered everything appropriately, but would allow a peek of red lace if she shifted just right. Some small part of her liked the thought of driving Tyson crazy.
And that surprised her.
Because she’d never been the teasing sort. But something about Tyson made her feel flirty and naughty. Maybe it was the way he looked at her as though he wanted to undress her. Or the way he found excuses to brush against her throughout the day. She blew out a breath as Nellie entered the room.
“You look awesome. What’s with all the sighing?” Nellie asked, placing a stack of folded laundry on the bed.
“Oh, nothing. My hair is flat on one side. Wow, you folded my laundry?” Dawn pointed at the stack Nellie had set down before turning toward the mirror and threading a silver and turquoise dangle earring into her ear. Then she tugged her bodice down and pulled on the knee-high black boots she’d worn earlier that day. They totally made the dress.
“Yeah, Jack mixed some of your T-shirts in with mine. He can’t tell the difference.” Nellie plopped onto the bed. Her sweatshirt carried spit-up stains and she’d pulled on a pair of maternity shorts. She looked tired—kinda like every new mother on the face of the planet.
“Hey, you forgot to put on your other earring.”
“Thanks.” Dawn threaded the other earring in her ear and gathered her hair up so she could put it in a ponytail.
“No, leave it down. Guys love to run their hands through long hair,” Nellie said, stifling a yawn with her hand. She flopped back onto Dawn’s bed and stretched.
“I’m not planning on his hands in my hair. I’m just going over for supper. And a football game.” Dawn released her hair and tossed down the holder. Maybe Nellie was right.
“I saw your bra strap. Red lace? Yeah, right,” Nellie said, picking at the eyelet trim on the pillow sham.
“You know, you’re starting to sound like my brother.”
Nellie laughed. “That’s what they say happens to married couples. That and no more hot sex.”
Dawn spun around. “Well, you just had a baby. You can’t exactly do the deed yet.”
Nellie pushed herself up on one elbow. “But Jack’s acting all weird and stuff. You know, about me and my body. I tried to initiate a little hanky-panky last night, and he kissed me on the forehead like I was his elderly aunt. You’d think he’d be all over a little fun. He was before Mae arrived.”
Dawn waved her hands. “Stop. Don’t need to hear this.”
Nellie shifted until she sat cross-legged. “You think it’s my boobs? All the, you know, leaking and stuff?”
Dawn shook her head. “Nah, he sees you differently now. You know, as the mother of his child.”
“But I don’t want to be only the mother of his child. I want him to lick whipped cream off my stomach like he used to.”
She laughed. “Again. TMI. And things will get back to normal. Give him a couple more weeks. But I would make one recommendation.”
Nellie stood and tugged her sweatshirt past her still shrinking midsection. “What’s that?”
Dawn picked up her purse and headed for the door, unable to resist throwing a saucy grin at her sister-in-law. “Get yourself a red lace bra, sister.”
The last thing she heard as she glided down the hallway was Nellie calling, “They don’t make nursing bras in red lace, smart-ass.”
Dawn couldn’t stop smiling. For the first time in a long time, she felt the stirrings of happiness. Sure, Andrew was ticked at her while still suggesting she call his dad. And Larry kept calling and hinting around about a big deal she might want to get in on…along with dinner, of course. And Margo kept complaining about horny old men who touched her butt. And, still, there was the whole no job, no ideas for her future thing. But, tonight those things didn’t matter. She felt giddy like a girl with her first crush. She had a bloom in her cheeks and a bounce in her step.
So maybe not thinking was the best alternative. Even if the thought of not planning her days made her a little nauseous, that habit hadn’t gotten her very far. There were so many parts of her life that weren’t how she wanted them, despite all her strategizing. So for the moment, she was going to be a fly by the seat of her pants kind of gal.
The kind of gal who wore a red lace bra and planned for a night of flirting…and maybe something more.
“Big date?” Jack’s voice emerged from the den.
“Not really a date,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder and walking toward him. She leaned down and kissed the soft hair atop the infant sleeping on his chest. Jack’s Lab woofed from the pillow beside the hearth. “I’m not kissing you, Dutch. Forget about it.”
Jack laughed softly. “Yeah, buddy. Those lips look primed for someone with two legs.”
Dawn tapped her brother on the head.
“Ow,” he whispered. “You’re gonna wake her up.”
“Not my problem. Auntie Dawn is heading out the door.”
“You’re seriously wicked, woman,” Jack said, dropping his own featherlight kiss atop his daughter’s head. He looked up at Dawn, his expression shifting from tenderness to seriousness. “You sure about tangling with Tyson? You said that you weren’t going to mess around with any guys until—”
“I’m not tangling. We’re hanging out. I’m trying not to schedule stuff. Your advice. Remember?” Dawn’s stomach fluttered a bit at that thought.
“Since when have you ever listened to me?”
“I don’t listen to you. I listen to me. And I’m an adult and so is Tyson. I don’t have any ties and his divorce will be final in a matter of days.”
“Divorce?” Jack’s words were louder than intended. The baby stirred and he patted her back. His blue eyes met Dawn’s, meaning clear. Jack may be her baby brother, but he was a man. A man who clearly felt protective of all the women u
nder his roof.
“Leave her alone, Jack,” Nellie said, entering the den, wearing a clean and noticeably tighter T-shirt. Jack’s gaze zoomed right in on his wife’s abundant breasts. “Tyson’s a free man. He and his wife have been separated for two years. His wife already moved in with the guy she cheated on him with. Why shouldn’t he?”
“Cheated on him?” Dawn said, dumbfounded at her sister-in-law’s offhand words.
“You didn’t know? She cheated on him with his business partner while he was in Iraq.”
Dawn blinked. Karen cheated on Tyson? It was the first time she’d heard the reason for their breakup. She’d assumed they’d split because of his absence in Iraq. The thought Tyson had come home to heartbreak made her ache for him. Made her blood heat with anger at Karen. And made her stomach sink. Tyson was on the rebound. Everyone knew not to date someone on the rebound. Well, at least not someone who’d been so utterly devastated in a relationship.
“It’s nothing to worry about,” Nellie continued, smiling at her husband with a little sparkle in her emerald eyes. “Go get lucky tonight.”
Jack frowned.
Dawn shook her head and shouldered her purse. No way was she getting lucky tonight. The last bit of information Nellie imparted had her rethinking the wisdom of going with the flow. The wisdom in not not thinking. “I’m not worried about getting lucky.”
It really was a shame, though. And such a waste of a great bra.
CHAPTER TEN
“THAT SONOFABITCH needs to block for him. How in the hell is he supposed to fight off defenders and get to the goal line without any help?” Grady yelled at the TV.
As if hearing the elderly man, the announcer concluded much the same.
“Exactly,” Grady said, yanking up the footrest of his faded leather recliner with satisfaction.
Tyson grinned at Dawn and shook his head. He pointed to the kitchen and jerked his head. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be alone with him. She wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Not after what Nellie had revealed about his wife and her affair. Dawn couldn’t even be sure Tyson was over his ex-wife and ready to embark on another relationship.
But she pushed herself from the seventies-style olive tweed couch and followed Tyson to the kitchen. If Grady noticed they’d slipped away, he didn’t acknowledge it. He yelled at Jeremy Whitten, who Dawn had learned was a tight end and usually a good blocker.
As she entered the kitchen, Tyson spun her into his arms and kissed her.
And, damn, it felt good.
He tasted so delicious, like yeasty beer, salty pretzels and all things manly and warm. She couldn’t stop herself from leaning into him, from wanting him.
Heat flooded her body and swept her away.
And even though she knew it was a bad idea, she didn’t stop him when he deepened the kiss.
After a moment, he drew back. “I’ve been waiting to do that all night. I’m so turned on I could supply the electric company for the month.”
Dawn licked her lips and tried to focus on the coffee machine flashing the time over his shoulder. Reality-check time.
She leaped as his fingers traced the top of her dress. “And don’t think I haven’t seen what you’re hiding underneath this prim little dress. It’s driving me crazy.”
Mission accomplished. Couldn’t say she hadn’t done what she’d set out to do. But his fingers against her heated skin dashed all thoughts from her head. The man’s hands were magic. Her body begged him to dip his hand inside her dress and find her breast, cup it, caress her, take her over the edge. Yet the small sliver of sanity that remained urged her to run out the back door. To move before it was too late.
But she forgot all about escape when Tyson lowered his head to her neck and dropped little kisses along her collarbone.
It felt beyond good. She couldn’t stop herself from clasping his head to her chest and reveling in the sweet desire unfurling deep in her body. Her traitorous knee even slid up the side of his thigh, bringing him closer to the heart of her.
One of his hands cupped the back of her knee, helping to guide her leg and curl it around his thigh. He maneuvered her against the kitchen counter, bringing his body hard against hers. She could feel his erection straining his jeans and she wanted nothing more than to unbutton his fly and feel him fill her hand. Then feel him sliding inside her. It had to be the only way to extinguish the fire raging out of control.
Tyson lifted his head and took possession of her lips once again, ruthlessly plundering her mouth. She moaned and met him stroke for stroke, growing nearly frenzied with passion.
It had never felt this way, as though she must have this man or die trying.
So caught up in the moment, she was barely cognizant of someone calling Tyson’s name.
He lifted his mouth from hers as he cocked his head. His whiskey-colored eyes were glazed, the pupils dilated. Ragged breath aside, Tyson almost sounded normal when he called, “What?”
Tyson obviously didn’t care his grandfather was in the next room. His hand left the back of her knee and glided up her thigh, stopping at the barrier of her matching red panties.
“Bring me another beer when you come back,” Grady hollered, over the referee’s whistle sounding in the background.
His finger had just slipped beneath the lace edge of her panties when she dropped her leg to the floor. It was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. She wanted to see what he would do. Really wanted to. But she had let this get out of hand. “Stop.”
His teeth nipped her ear. “I don’t want to stop.”
She pushed at his chest. “Stop.”
He stepped back, his arms falling to his sides. “Why?”
She rubbed her lips together and refocused on the blinking numbers of the coffee machine. She needed to pull herself together. To use her mind and forget about how turned on she was.
“We’re in your grandfather’s kitchen,” she said, refusing to meet his eyes. She didn’t want to look at him yet. He was too damn appealing. And appealing, turned-on men were her weakness. Obviously.
He caught her about her waist and pressed a kiss against the side of her neck. “So?” he whispered.
Dawn literally had to grit her teeth before stepping away. “We can’t do this in the kitchen. We probably shouldn’t do this at all.”
Tyson pulled back, his eyes mirroring confusion though he gave her a silly grin.
Her heart plinked.
“Well, I gotta agree with you, darlin’. We don’t have a good track record with getting it on in kitchens. Last time we ended up with a soaked Chihuahua and a five-year-old holding a squirt gun. But what’s with the not doing this at all? I thought we’d agreed to let things run their course?”
Dawn sighed and scooted even farther away from him. Distance had to be good. “But not this fast. We haven’t known each other long enough—”
“I’ve seen you nearly every day for more than a month. This is what? Our third date?” He crossed his arms and looked much like a father giving a lecture to a wayward schoolgirl.
“My coming to the hospital was not a date, Tyson,” she said, finally meeting his eyes. She couldn’t quite read his expression. She didn’t know whether he was amused or aggravated. Or both.
“That night you came to the hospital I felt more alone than I ever had. Even when I was in Iraq. We connected on a level I knew existed but had never reached. You’re special, and I know we have the potential to build something good together.”
She closed her eyes, and damned if her heart didn’t contract in her chest. But he was moving too fast. No one felt that way that fast. He had to be still reeling from Karen’s betrayal. He was looking for something that wasn’t there. Not yet.
“Look, I don’t know where we’re headed, but I think it’s worth making the journey. Even if I have to convince you to put on your hiking shoes, lady.”
Dawn opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. “Plus, I know you, Dawn Taggart. I know you push your hair
back from your face when you’re nervous. You have two sweeteners in your coffee. You cheat at UNO. You slip Margo extra money for her son who’s in college. Your favorite color is blue. You like to put hot sauce on your eggs. You—”
“But I don’t know you, Tyson.” Dawn crossed her arms over her chest. “I didn’t even know the details of your whole divorce with Karen. About her cheating on you.”
His eyes narrowed a bit as he stared at her. A full minute passed before he spoke. “Why is that important?”
“Why is that important?” Her voice rose. She paused, took a cleansing breath and counted to five. “It’s important because I’m not risking my heart on some rebound relationship. It’s a fact—women don’t get a future with a guy who’s been dumped a few months before. He isn’t ready. And I don’t want to waste time on something that’s going to have me crying into my cereal bowl next month.”
Tyson shoved his hands in his pockets and shook his head. “First of all, it has been over two years since I’ve been with Karen. Technically, it’s been three. You really are a piece of work. You think you can control everything? You can’t. You can’t control your heart. Or your son. Or whether you’ll get another job next month. There is no formula for life, Dawn. You have to creep around like the rest of us, finding comfort where you can, savoring the feeling that makes you feel like moving forward.”
“Is that what I am to you? Comfort?” That bothered her. She didn’t want to be used. She’d already felt that way too often in her life. And rebounds were about comfort. Hot sex. No strings. No ties.
Tyson sighed and gave her a small smile. “Yeah, you are, but not in the way you think.”
An irritated voice came from the other room. “What in the tarnation does a guy have to do to get a beer around here?”
Tyson shook his head and called, “You’ve already had your limit, Gramps.”
Grady muttered a word that should have made Dawn blush. But she was the mother of a nineteen-year-old boy. Very little made her blush anymore.