by Annie Rains
“Maybe.”
Lawson held out an arm. “Then please. Take me to the mats. I insist you pick out a manly colored mat, however. No pink ones.”
Julie laughed. “I wouldn’t do that to you.” She led the way. She knew this store well, even though she hadn’t had the money to go shopping for herself in a good while. “I thought you might like a bright purple one.”
Lawson groaned behind her. “You’re killing me, Julie Chandler. Killing me.”
He was killing her, with that gaze he had steady on her and his one-liners that had her laughing so easily, something she’d rarely done since returning home.
She bent to pick up a boxed mat, very aware of the view she was giving him. Whirling, she shoved the mat into his arms. “Blue. Is that manly enough for you?”
“I’ll take blue. Is this it?” he asked. “Anything else that I can’t live without? Other than a good yoga instructor, that is.”
She swallowed. “Nope. This should be sufficient.”
They browsed their way to the cash register and paid. Then they stood awkwardly outside the shop for a long moment.
“That was fun,” Lawson said, adjusting the hat on his head. “I have to admit, when I woke up this morning I got excited at the thought of spending time with you.” He rubbed the new growth of hair on his jaw again. Why was something so simple so very sexy?
She pulled her lower lip into her mouth, suppressing a smile. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. I, uh, rented a movie before coming here,” he continued. “I’m not too keen on watching movies alone, though.”
“You could ask Beth,” she suggested. She was his sister, after all.
“I could. But I’d rather ask you.” His gaze held her hostage as they stood in the parking lot.
Her pulse quickened. She adjusted the shopping bag in her hand, trying to expel some of her nervous energy. Where was that confidence she’d just prided herself on having in the store? Now she was a bundle of nerves.
“Here. Let me take that to your car for you while you try to decide whether or not to say yes to me.” He took the bag, which contained a simple shirt that she’d purchased for herself. A small splurge to celebrate surviving her busy week.
“Where are you parked?” he asked.
Julie pointed across the street. “There.” She followed him, considering her answer. Bad idea. Very, very bad idea. “Yes,” she said before she could stop herself. There were those pesky hormones overriding her brain again.
Lawson turned. “You know coming to my place tonight is a bad idea, right?”
She froze. “So you should probably take back the offer.”
“Can’t. I don’t want to. So you’re going to have to take back your answer.” He took a step toward her, ramping her attraction to dizzying levels.
She shook her head, pressing the UNLOCK button on her keychain. Her instinct was to back away as he came closer, but she kept her feet rooted to the ground. “Can’t. I don’t want to, either.”
“I’m likely to turn out to be a jerk.”
Doubtful. She was an expert on jerk-dom. And despite her initial thoughts, Lawson didn’t fit the bill. “You’re one of my students. It’s bad form for an instructor to, um, spend alone time with students.”
Lawson dipped to place her bag in the passenger seat, then stood back to allow her to step inside her vehicle. “But we’re just friends, remember? Nothing wrong with two friends watching a movie together.”
“Right,” she agreed.
“So, about that movie?” he asked again.
She lifted a shoulder. “Well, what’s the title? If it’s one I’m interested in, then I’ll come. If not, then we’ll call the whole thing off.”
His mouth quirked on one side. “If I’d known that would be the deciding factor, I might’ve picked something a little more enticing. I like old movies.”
“Old movies?” she asked, falling just a little in love, despite agreeing two minutes earlier to remain friends.
“I rented The Dirty Dozen.” He hung his head. “So, the answer’s no, huh?”
“I’ve never seen The Dirty Dozen. And I happen to like old movies, too. Not exactly old war movies, but how about we strike a deal?”
“Let me guess. I do yoga with you and you’ll watch this war movie with me?”
“No. I’ve forced enough yoga on you for one week.” She played with the sleeve of her shirt. What am I doing? “How about I bring my favorite old movie tonight and we watch both?”
Getting hooked on his smile, that’s what she was doing.
He pretended to spit into his hand and then held it out for her to shake.
Her entire body lit up as she slipped her hand into his callused one. She imagined it was from barn work or from holding the reins during horseback riding. “Deal,” she said.
—
Lawson reached for a beer in his fridge, stared at it for a long moment, and then put it back. He didn’t need the beer to relax. Julie was just coming over as a friend. Yeah. The most good-looking friend he had. It was going to take all his willpower to keep his hands off her tonight.
He turned and looked at his small living room, sizing up how this would go. If she sat on the couch, he’d sit in the recliner, giving himself a fair distance so that he couldn’t smell her, because the way she smelled made him want to get even closer. Made him want to touch her. And if she took the recliner, he’d take the couch. Easy.
The doorbell rang. Shutting the refrigerator, he purposely slowed his steps to go answer the door. Dr. Pierce had warned him that jumping into a relationship was a bad idea. Inviting Julie over tonight had nothing to do with what he’d experienced in Afghanistan, though. This wasn’t a reaction to his stress. It was his…well, his overly neglected Lawson Junior, who he’d denied any action for almost a year. Lawson Junior had certain expectations. He was used to getting action, and since returning home, Lawson Junior had been…denied.
“Who is it?” Lawson asked, standing behind the door, teasing Julie. She was the only person he was expecting, so of course he knew damn well who it was.
“Me,” a female voice said.
His hand was on the doorknob before his brain could catch up, because that “me” wasn’t the beautiful, calming voice he’d come to know as Julie’s. He was actually starting to look forward to yoga class because, even if the deep breathing and rhythmic moves didn’t calm him, Julie’s voice did. The other day, after seeing a helicopter fly overhead, he’d dialed his voicemail just to hear a message she’d left him the week before. That was enough. Just her voice.
So he should’ve recognized immediately that the person standing behind his door was not Julie.
“Mel,” he said, finding the short-statured brunette standing on his porch.
Stalker Mel’s face brightened as she stood before him, holding up a bottle of wine. Despite the sick feeling in his stomach, he forced a smile. “Mel,” he said again, for lack of anything better to say.
She took a step toward his doorway, which he blocked like he would a calf trying to squeeze out of one of the stalls back home.
She giggled and tried again.
He blocked it, holding his smile. “What are you doing here, Mel?”
She swiped a lock of brown hair off her pale skin. “You’re too much of a gentleman to take me up on my offers to”—she licked her lips—“get to know each other better.” Her eyebrows lifted and the sickening feeling in his stomach increased.
“Get to know each other better,” he repeated.
“Uh-huh. So I took it upon myself to bring the wine and just…” giggles erupted between her words; she was like a giddy schoolgirl with a crush and, this month at least, her crush was on him, “…stop in. I hope you’re not busy.”
“Actually, I am. A little busy.”
Her smile faded. “You are?” She made a point of running her gaze up and down his body, pausing just below the belt, which made him squirm. He was dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt,
no shoes. He probably looked like he was lying when he’d claimed to be busy.
“This is the best wine that the winery offers. It’s very good,” she promised in a singsong voice, stepping into his personal space.
Lawson’s gaze lifted as a Honda Civic slowed and pulled into his driveway. This was going to look bad. Two women with expectations. Once upon a time this would’ve been a fantasy for him.
Mel turned, following the direction of his gaze. “You have company.” She looked at him again, her expression not so bright. “Female company.”
If he wasn’t mistaken, anger sparked in her mahogany eyes.
From the corner of his gaze, he saw Julie get out of her car and head toward them. “I do.” He nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry, Mel.”
Mel’s voice rose. “You’ve been leading me on, Lawson Phillips. I thought we had something.”
No. No, no, no. He hated when a woman cried and this one was either going to pull a knife on him or combust into waterworks. Both equal forms of torture in his opinion.
Her voice cracked, shook. “Is this how you treat women? Are you going to do the same to this young woman coming to your home?” Mel asked.
He shook his head. “I interrupted your date with a sleaze. That was all, Mel,” he said slowly. “Bill Johnson isn’t good for anyone. I was just trying to help you, not lead you on.”
“And we saw each other again the other night.”
“Not intentional on my part,” he pointed out. “You showed up in the Veterans’ Center’s parking lot.”
“You led me on!” Mel turned and looked at Julie, who was standing beside her now, looking confused and so, so sexy. “Here!” Mel shoved the bottle of wine in Julie’s hands. “Be warned. He’ll break your heart, this one.” She turned back and glared at Lawson. “In a million tiny, little pieces,” she said, punctuating every word. Sniffling, but with no real tears, she marched back to her sporty red convertible in his driveway.
Julie’s mouth quirked on one side as she faced him. “Friend of yours?” she asked, handing him the bottle of wine as Lawson led her inside and closed the door quickly—before Stalker Mel could come back for more.
“Long story,” he said, hoping he wouldn’t have to explain.
“You’re going to break my heart into tiny little shards, huh?” She sat on the stool at his counter and stared at him.
“I’ll try not to. She was just—”
Julie held up a hand and smiled. “Relax. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”
Lawson nodded, a slow grin forming on his mouth. “Okay, then. So, how about we forget about her and focus on us.” His brain stuttered on the last word. “Us” had rolled off his tongue too easily; he’d felt too comfortable saying it, and now he was suddenly uncomfortable. “Would you, uh, like a beer?” he asked, placing his hand on the refrigerator door. “I also have soda.”
“Just water,” she said behind him. “I’m easy.”
He glanced over his shoulder at her. The jokester in him wanted to counter that answer with “I’m hard” but he resisted because it’d only be a partial joke. Julie was dressed in fitted jeans and a short-sleeved yellow top that dipped low enough to put his imagination on overdrive. Lawson Junior could jump from limp to steel in two point five seconds if he wanted.
But Julie was here as his friend, he reminded himself. Just a friend.
“So, what movie did you bring?” he asked.
“When Harry Met Sally.”
He slid a bottled water onto the counter in front of her. “That’s not an old movie.”
She grinned. “Yes, it is. It was released almost three decades ago. And it’s a classic. I could watch it a million times. Have you seen it?”
He wobbled his head from side to side. “Parts. It’s about two friends who become lovers, right?” His gaze snagged hers, and oh shit, he was in trouble.
“And then they hate each other,” she said. “And then they love each other.” She cleared her throat. “Friends should never be lovers, though. It ruins everything.”
“That’s a line from the movie, isn’t it?” he asked, leaning on the counter in front of her. It was as if her body was pulling him toward her, like a magnet, and he was definitely attracted.
“And it’s true. Friends make lousy lovers,” she said.
“Plus there’s the whole hate thing,” he said. “I don’t ever want you to hate me. Mel Harris is doing a fine job of that right about now.” His gaze rested on her smooth, pink kissable lips. “Us hating each other wouldn’t be good for Sabrina, either,” he said.
“And clearly you’re a heartbreaker.” She gestured to the bottle of wine from Stalker Mel, teasing him.
“You’re more likely to break my heart, darling.”
They were both leaning toward each other from opposite sides of the counter. The last thing on his mind right now was watching a war movie or a sappy chick flick. “So let’s pop the corn and dim the lights for the movies. What do you say?”
“Or we could, um…” Her eyes flicked to his mouth.
“What?” he asked, wanting her to suggest something entirely different. That was a fantasy, though, because no way was Julie going to say the things he wanted to hear.
“We could pop the cork on that wine,” she said. “Since your friend doesn’t seem to be coming back.”
“God, help me. I hope she doesn’t come back.” He laughed softly. “Would you like a glass of wine?”
She nodded. “That’d be great. And I’m not really in the mood for watching a movie quite yet.” Fire ignited behind her eyes. He knew enough about a woman to recognize that look. Or maybe he was projecting his own desire.
“I’m not in the mood for watching movies, either,” he said.
Chapter 12
What the hell was she thinking? She hadn’t even had any wine yet and here she was letting her hormones do the talking. Which was what she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do on the way here.
Lawson was looking at her and waiting for an answer to his question. He repeated it. “What are you in the mood for, Julie?”
Her skin burned. “I’m, um…” She subconsciously licked her lips. “I’m in the mood for yoga,” she said.
Yoga? I’m in the mood for yoga?
The skin between Lawson’s eyes pinched softly. “Yoga? You want wine and yoga?”
“Yes. I often have wine before yoga,” she lied.
“But you’re wearing jeans. You don’t do yoga in jeans.”
He had a point, but no way was she going to admit that she’d been suggesting they wear nothing instead and do a different kind of exercise. “That’s the great thing about yoga. You can do it anywhere, wearing pretty much anything.”
“Which is why you helped me buy a yoga wardrobe today.” Lawson smiled, a knowing look in his eyes. Crap. Did he know that she’d been thinking, in a brief moment of insanity, that they should pull a When Harry Met Sally and turn friends to lovers? Why, oh, why had she picked that movie to bring?
“Okay,” he said. “Wine first and then yoga.”
She nodded. She was going to need some wine to get through this night.
Two glasses later, and feeling much more relaxed, she led Lawson through the core poses she’d been teaching at the Veterans’ Center over the last couple of weeks.
“You’re right. It’s not easy to do yoga in jeans,” she said, wobbling as she did the Downward-Facing Dog pose—the one she’d been doing when he’d walked in on her interview with Allison a few weeks earlier. A lot had changed between them since then. She wobbled again, then her whole body electrified as two hands steadied her waist. Just like that rainy day.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Keeping you from falling on your butt.”
“I’m a yoga professional. I don’t fall.” Except she was falling, hard and fast, for this cowboy behind her.
“Even when you’re drunk?” he asked.
“Two glasses,” she said, walking her
hands back to her feet and slowly straightening her body. As she did, her body leaned up against his, her back to his front. His hands were still settled on her waist, keeping her firmly planted on solid ground.
“Those were big glasses. Maybe we should move this over to the couch.”
She turned to face him. They were standing so close she could feel his breath against her cheek. She wasn’t drunk, but she’d had just enough wine to lose her inhibitions. “Or the bedroom,” she said quietly, focusing on his mouth. She wanted to taste it again, taste him. The kiss at the barn had been too brief, too innocent. It’d left her hungry for more.
“Julie,” he said in a low growl.
“I know. But we can be adults about this. We don’t have to end up hating each other. And I won’t stalk you.”
“Julie,” he said again.
“If you don’t want me, just say so, Lawson.”
“That’s not it,” he said. “Because believe me, I want you.”
She looked up at him under her eyelashes. “Then take me.” Lifting her chin, she challenged him. “Take me to your bedroom.”
He stared at her for a long moment. She was about to back away and take back her offer. Then his hand went up, cupping the back of her head and pulling her toward him. His mouth covered hers, his tongue lashed against hers. His body pressed against hers, and she felt him. He wanted her just as badly as she wanted him.
“Take me to your bed,” she whispered, pulling away from the kiss. Her hands clutched the front of his shirt tightly.
With a growl from deep in his throat, he dipped and lifted her off her feet, making her squeal and laugh at the same time. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, with just enough drawl to remind her that he was a cowboy. She’d never been taken to bed by a cowboy. Or a Marine for that matter. But there was a first for everything.
Darkness wrapped around them as Lawson entered his bedroom and laid her gently on his bed. She could still see his face, his eyes set on her.
“You sure you want to do this? Are you too drunk?” he asked.
“Lawson. I’m not drunk. It would take half that bottle to make me drunk. But yes, I’m sure,” she said, her whole body tingling.