Gold Fire

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Gold Fire Page 20

by Starr Ambrose


  The distractions were welcome. She would have to face Matt eventually, though, and she rehearsed a speech all the way to work on Tuesday about taking things slower. She didn’t have to give it. He wasn’t there, and didn’t show up all evening.

  It was only a reprieve. But it gave her time to think, and it wasn’t Matt on her mind. Figuring out what she felt for Matt was easy—she felt nothing, no matter how hard she tried. But Jase Garrett stirred a cyclone of feelings—frustration; irritation; confusion; and over all of it, an earthy, panty-melting lust. She couldn’t deny it, she just didn’t know what to do about it.

  The obvious answer shouted in the back of her mind and throbbed between her legs. Sleep with him.

  In an odd way, it might help. Maybe her confused lust for Jase was holding her back from Matt. And maybe if she slept with Jase, she’d work him out of her system so she could get on with her life plan, Matt included. Jase would probably be a letdown as a lover, anyway, too selfish and lazy to think of anything but his own needs. This could work.

  Hoping the night air would clear her mind, she rolled down her windows for the drive home. Fifty degrees could be bracing, waking up tired brain cells.

  The cool wind carried the smells of earth and pine, and sent shivers over her exposed neck as she drove down the mountain. Passing the Rusty Wire, she glanced at the building, expecting it to be dark at two-thirty in the morning. It wasn’t. She slowed. In the floodlight over the front door, two men appeared to be having an argument. She didn’t want to get involved, but she hated that excuse from so-called concerned citizens. What if it turned violent and one of them needed help?

  She idled at the entrance. Loud swearing from one man was answered by a curt word from the other. One word was all it took. Recognizing Jase’s voice, she turned into the parking lot. A disagreement with an angry customer in the middle of the night couldn’t be good. She had no idea how she could help, but some backup had to be better than none. She stopped several yards from the men and stepped out of her car, not sure which man she’d be backing up.

  A furious middle-aged man snatched something from Jase’s hand. “Thanks a lot, you just wrecked my marriage,” he said bitterly.

  Zoe’s stomach clenched. It looked like she wouldn’t be taking Jase’s side.

  “Your wife’ll probably thank me,” Jase assured him, far less perturbed.

  “Bullshit! You don’t know how she gets. I was supposed to be there two hours ago.” He pulled out a cell phone as he talked, his demeanor suddenly changing. “Hi, baby. I’m sorry, I know I’m late, but I swear I wasn’t with Becky.” He winced at the answer. “Honest, baby, you can believe me. I was with Stan at the Rusty Wire.” He looked around helplessly. “No, he already left. But you can call him tomorrow—”

  “Give me that,” Jase said, grabbing the phone from the man’s hands. Zoe took a step forward, as indignant as the man. She knew Jase had seen her, but he ignored them both, speaking into the phone. “Ma’am? This is Jase Garrett at the Rusty Wire Saloon. I’m afraid I’m the reason your husband is late. He had too much to drink, and fell asleep on the table. I took his car keys and let him sleep it off. I woke him up a few minutes ago, and he’s leaving for home now. If you’d like, you can stop in here tomorrow evening. I have several employees who can verify that your husband was here, drunk and snoring most of the night.”

  Zoe bit back a grin. The man watched, frozen with fear.

  “Yes, ma’am. Good night,” Jase said. He handed the phone back. “I explained why you’re late. You’ll have to explain why you were too drunk to drive. Good luck.”

  The man pocketed his phone and turned, swearing under his breath as he walked to a pickup truck. They watched wordlessly as he drove off.

  As the sound of the pickup died away, Jase turned to her. He looked her over from twenty feet away, then walked closer, each booted step echoing loudly across the empty parking lot. Her heart sped up, as if there was something exciting about being close to him. And damn it, there was. He’d done a lot to piss her off, but lately he seemed to do everything right.

  He stopped in front of her, thumbs hooked in his pockets. “What are you doing here?”

  She smiled, enjoying the little rush of adrenaline she got from looking at him. There was nothing wrong with looking. “Coming to your rescue. Or his, I wasn’t sure.”

  “His?”

  She shrugged. It really was odd, the way she reacted to him, as if she could already feel his hands encircling her body, pulling her against him. She didn’t have to check for tingles, her body fairly vibrated with them, the nape of her neck alive with an electric current that raised the tiny hairs to attention. It was beyond analyzing, beyond the need for long-range plans. It required action.

  In the back of her mind something clicked into place so firmly she wondered if it had been audible.

  He obviously hadn’t heard it. “I suppose you thought that was the rational thing to do, step into the middle of an argument in the deserted parking lot of a saloon at two-thirty in the morning?”

  Well, if he was going to put it that way . . . “I didn’t really think it through. I just acted on impulse.”

  A spark of interest lit his eyes, igniting an answering flare below her stomach, because she knew full well which impulses he was remembering. “In different circumstances, I’d approve.” He cleared his throat. “But I think you should have listened to logic on this one. A dark parking lot, two strange men arguing . . .”

  “I knew it was you.” Was he really telling her to be more rational? “I’m not afraid of you.”

  The flashback was almost a physical thing. She’d said the same words to Matt. Then, she’d been unable to stomach the idea of having sex. This didn’t feel at all the same.

  She watched Jase reassess the situation, amused that she’d thrown him off his stride. It was a nice feeling. Powerful.

  His gaze took in her Alpine Sky blazer and skirt, lingering a little too long on her breasts and legs. “On your way home from work?”

  “Mm-hmm.” She made no move to leave, doing a little body scanning herself. Lingering here and there.

  “You have crappy hours.”

  “Same as yours,” she said, unperturbed. She ran her eyes over the breadth of his shoulders, the corded muscles in his arms. She’d looked before, but not as openly. His T-shirt did nothing to hide a well-defined chest, and his jeans tightened around the strong muscles in his thighs. He probably didn’t even need a bouncer—he looked capable of handling anything. Or anyone.

  Her, for instance.

  She sucked her lower lip in at the thought, letting it slip slowly beneath her teeth as she raised her eyes to his.

  His gaze was stuck on her mouth, his eyes slightly narrowed. When he finally looked up, he no longer seemed off his stride. In fact, he looked pretty decisive.

  “How about a drink before you go home?”

  No wild, impulsive choices, she reminded herself. Just well-thought-out, sensible decisions, with a definite goal in mind.

  She smiled serenely. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Chapter

  Fourteen

  He was still locking the door as she crossed the empty dance floor to the bar, her heels making a hollow sound in the deserted room. The saloon looked different in the half-light of the fluorescent tubes behind the bar. Chairs were turned upside down on tables, and the back room was a shadowy cave. She ran her hand along the edge of the bar as she walked its length, considering what it had seen in more than a hundred years of use. And not just drinking. With no carpet on the floor, she guessed more than one naked backside had been pressed against the bar top after hours.

  My goodness, she thought, amused by how quickly her mind had adjusted to the new program.

  She turned to Jase, who was doing something behind the bar. “Are we alone?”

  “Yes. Watch what you touch, the bar only got a quick wipe before I sent everyone home.” He opened two beer bottles, holding one toward
her. “Beer?”

  “Thanks.” She took a sip as Jase came around the bar.

  If possible, he seemed even more laid back after hours. He tipped his bottle up, looking her over, his gaze slow and deliberate as he drank. “You surprised me, Zoe. I didn’t think you were the type to impulsively accept an invitation this time of night.”

  “I’m usually not.” She looked at the beer bottle in her hand, then set it aside. Beer wasn’t what she really wanted. “But I’ve had this small problem lately, and it’s affecting my usual sensible choices.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. It seems I’m attracted to you.”

  He hid a smile with a casual sip from his bottle. “Interesting problem.”

  “Yes, because giving into an urge like that is something I don’t do. As you said, I make sensible decisions. And you and I . . . well, that’s far from sensible, what with your lack of ambition and my well-thought-out career goals.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Obviously, I need to get over it. Get you out of my system.”

  He nodded.

  She waited for him to ask how she planned to do it, but he just took another slow drink, watching her as he did. For a person with little ambition, he had an intense focus. Pleasant shivers crossed her shoulders. He might be letting her lead, but there was no doubt he knew where they were going.

  And there was no turning back. Now that she’d decided to satisfy her curiosity, her body quivered, anticipating his touch. He would mold her against him, stroke her, kiss her in that mind-reeling way that both staggered and aroused her. Just imagining it drove her crazy in a delicious, electrifying way.

  Beneath prickles of excitement, the relief almost made her laugh—this was how it was supposed to feel. No suggestive language or groping required. Matt could have tried all night and never gotten it right, but all it took with Jase was a look. She was steaming from it, while doing her best to look as calm and collected as he did.

  She let the certainty of what she was doing sweep through her, thrilling at the new sensation. She doubted he felt it; he was too absorbed in watching. She didn’t know if he was undressing her with his gaze, but it sure as hell made her think about undressing.

  “Hot in here,” she said, reaching for the buttons on her blazer.

  His eyes followed her hands as she undid the jacket, then slipped it off and draped it over a bar stool. A smile played at the corner of his mouth, causing a flock of butterflies to take wing in her stomach. Humor flashed in his eyes. “I don’t know. I’m starting to get into that proper look of yours, Miss Larkin. It’s like a hard shell covering a soft, creamy center.”

  She arched an eyebrow, congratulating herself on looking cool while seriously overheating. “As I remember it, you called my look stiff.”

  “Did I?” He considered it, raking another hot gaze over her body. “Right word. Wrong person.”

  Oh, my. Her gaze dropped to his jeans. Better lighting would have helped her appreciate that more. She gave him a heavy-lidded smile as she reached for the buttons on her blouse and undid two.

  Jase exhaled a long, appreciative breath.

  If he loved seeing the evidence of restraint in her come undone, he wasn’t the only one affected. Each move seemed to free something in herself. It uncoiled in sinuous slow motion, her tightly wound control letting go. It was a new feeling. In her wild days she might have acted uninhibited, but it was just that, an act. It had required effort to overcome good sense, along with copious amounts of alcohol. The only effort involved here was in not rushing the process.

  With deliberate slowness, she toed off each shoe. He watched, then lifted his eyes. There was nothing cool about that look.

  Her heart pounded, a ridiculous level of excitement for merely baring her arms and feet. Licking her lips felt downright dangerous. She did it, just to watch his eyes blaze with interest.

  She paused long enough for him to wonder what she’d do next. She hadn’t planned this, and thinking was becoming difficult, but the next move seemed obvious. Miss Larkin needed to shed every bit of her stuffy image.

  Placing a foot on the lower rung of a bar stool, she slid her skirt up just far enough to expose the top of her thigh-high nylon. Then pushed the stocking down, slowly. She didn’t have to look to know he followed every motion. With deliberate care she draped the nylon over the stool, then repeated the process with her other leg. Skirt inched up, nylon inched down. Languid movements, while her heart took off at high speed and blood rushed in her ears.

  The freshly mopped wood floor was smooth and cool against her feet as she turned to face him.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Better?”

  She smiled slyly. “Almost.”

  How could he look so relaxed? The room was charged with so much electricity it prickled against her skin. Yet he stood there expressionless, feet slightly spread and bottle dangling from his fingers. Watching her. She’d be tempted to check for a pulse if not for the fire in that unwavering stare.

  God, that look—it stole her breath and sent heat pulsing downward to throb between her thighs. If he didn’t make a move soon, she might just throw herself on him.

  Lifting her fingers to her blouse again, she opened the third button. Beneath her hand, her heart banged like a drum against her ribs. The center of her bra and a fair amount of skin had to be showing. She opened one more, watching for a reaction.

  He didn’t move. She thought it was possible he had gone even more still.

  Holding her breath, she reached up and behind her head to unclip her hair.

  He set his beer down on a table. “Jesus, Zoe.” The breath he took was deep, a man coming up for air. “That’s enough.”

  She stopped, not daring to move as he took three strides forward and covered her hand with his own. He held her gaze as he lowered her hand, eyes hot and steady on hers. “Let me,” he said in a low voice that sent electricity skittering down her back and arms.

  He reached up slowly, found the clip, and let her hair tumble down. She gave her head a slight shake, knowing the lights behind her sent gold fire shooting through every strand. A satisfied smile touched his mouth before he turned his hot gaze back to her, both of his hands buried in her hair.

  She inhaled deeply, eyes locked with his as he took over. She felt his hand move between them and the bottom of her blouse pull from her skirt. Still watching her, he undid the last buttons, letting her blouse fall open. He didn’t look.

  She searched his face, finding both desire and a control she hadn’t expected. She didn’t know where he’d found it, because she had lost hers. Was losing more with every second. His fingers had skimmed between her breasts without touching, an oversight that immediately became an obsession in her mind. Touch me. Her breasts swelled with it. She bit her lip, wondering if the silent plea showed in her eyes the way it ached in her breasts.

  He raised a hand to cup her cheek—not the touch she’d been hoping for, but a good prelude because he turned it into a caress as he leaned in and kissed her. She made an appreciative sound and opened to him, letting the light-headedness sweep over her as he took what she offered. Hands on his shoulders, she clutched fistfuls of his T-shirt and held on. For a moment she swayed between pleasure and desperation as she sank into his kiss, at the same time yearning to feel his hands on her. To touch her, right there where a puff of air slipped inside her open blouse.

  And then, oh God, he was doing it. His palm slipped around to cup her breast, exploring the curve of it, fingering the hard bud of her nipple. She whimpered against his mouth and pressed into his hand, out of her mind with wanting him. His touch was bold and sure, and her response to it wiped away any comparison she might have made of him with Matt. With Jase, she couldn’t get enough.

  He seemed to feel the same way. In one deft move he flicked the bra strap off her shoulder, making room for his hand. His palm was warm, and the callused pads below his fingers mildly abrasive as he rubbed them over her. She trembled, weak-kneed from plea
sure. She needed more.

  To her annoyance, his hand stopped moving. He smiled and studied her lazily. “You’re pretty direct about going after what you want, aren’t you?”

  “That can’t be news to you.”

  He chuckled low in his throat. “No, and I’m beginning to appreciate it.” In one smooth motion he pushed her blouse off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. “I’ve been known to take a single-minded approach to what I want, too.” He opened the clasp on her bra and pulled it away. “Right now, I want you.”

  She closed her eyes blissfully as he kissed each breast. “Finally,” she choked out. “We agree on something.”

  He smiled, then pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Trapping her against the bar, he placed small kisses along her neck. “There’s only one problem.”

  She didn’t see a problem. Physically, he looked as fit as the photos she’d seen of him in Time magazine. She ran her hands over the hard lines of his chest, pleased to see that he hadn’t let everything go during the past nine years. “What’s the problem?”

  “If you were hoping I had a couch in my office, I don’t. At the moment, I don’t even have an office.”

  She’d realized that, she just hadn’t let it stop her. “You own the place,” she said, absorbed in tracing the outline of muscles beneath his thin dusting of chest hair. “What’s worked in the past?”

  “A house.” He licked her bottom lip.

  He’d never made love to a woman here—that gave her a whole new thrill. She’d make the first time something neither one of them would forget.

 

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