by Wane, BJ
Sliding out of Dee’s car thirty minutes later, Mia’s pulse spiked with a surge of adrenaline as they walked up to the door of a popular roadside club, hearing music and laughter pumping out. Her one indiscretion with Peter had led to getting married at eighteen and tied down with twins at nineteen, the sudden responsibilities of adulthood shortening her chance to cut loose and explore life like her friends had been doing. The boys remained her one pride and joy, and she wouldn’t trade having them for anything, but as she stepped inside the crowd-packed, noisy bar ten miles out from Whitetail, she found herself grateful for Dee and Trish’s insistence she join them tonight. She was tired of sitting home alone, bemoaning Peter’s infidelity and her own stupidity in staying with him long after whatever had once been between them had died.
Trish pointed across the room and said, “Let’s go sit at the bar.”
Mia blinked in rapid succession to adjust to the dim interior as her sandaled feet crunched over broken peanut shells strewn across the sawdust covered, worn wood floor. The band perched on a small stage at the opposite end of the room pealed out their version of Josh Turner’s, Why Don’t We Just Dance, while patrons jam-packed on the dance floor tried to two-step in the small space.
Memories of cutting loose at high school dances came roaring back. She’d been thrilled when Peter, the hot senior and town’s golden boy because he’d just won them a state championship in football, had snagged her for a dance. Two years younger, she’d fallen hook, line and sinker for his practiced moves. Watching the gyrating, fast swinging couples, she realized he’d been lacking in the dance department as well as fidelity, only her infatuation had kept her from noticing.
“I’ll take a beer,” she told the bartender when he made his way over to them.
“Me too.” Dee turned to Mia. “Anyone catch your eye yet?”
“I told you, I’m just here for a few drinks.” Dee started to argue, but Mia shook her head, picked up her beer and swiveled to face the crowd.
It was too noisy to hold a decent conversation, but she’d always enjoyed people-watching. By the time she downed her beer and held her hand up for another, a pleasant buzz altered her senses. Since she rarely indulged in alcohol, she’d forgotten how fast one drink went to her head, which accounted for how she’d missed the good-looking man approaching with a friendly smile until he stopped in front of her. His slow, appreciative once-over made her itch to place a hand over the gap in her top. Her breasts were among the body parts that had rounded even more from the ten pounds she’d gained since her separation, extra weight she did not need.
Holding out his hand, he said, “I’m Carl. Dance?”
The quick offer sent a warm flush through Mia. After insisting she was just here for a drink with friends, she found herself reaching for his hand with a flare of excitement. It had been a long time since a man showed an interest in her. Chief MacGregor’s rugged face popped into her head again, but she shoved his image aside in favor of the friendly, non-pushy man leading her onto the dance floor.
“I’m a bit rusty,” she warned him as he pulled her against him.
“No problem. Just follow my lead.”
Within minutes, Mia got caught up in the music and her partner’s attention. The hot look in Carl’s eyes as he spun her about stunned her at first, and worked to give her self-esteem a much-needed boost. She marveled at how fast she had gotten into the swing of things and attracted attention, her smile widening as he twirled her around. Maybe I should do this more often, she thought a few minutes later when another man cut in and took her in his arms with an admiring gaze, wrapped an arm around her waist and spun her about.
Laughing, she shook her head, enjoying the feel of her loose hair flipping around and the perspiration inducing movements of her long-neglected body. Before she could break away to get a much-needed glass of water, yet another man cut in, but his crude leer and the cold gleam in his beady black eyes sent a shiver of unease down her spine.
“You here with anyone?” he yelled over the music.
Thankful that she was, she nodded her head. “Yes, I’m with friends.” Something about this man made her feel like a bug being viewed under a microscope, and she didn’t like it. This was the part of barhopping that had worried her.
“They shouldn’t mind if you have a drink with me.”
Mia didn’t care for the insistence behind his tone or the way he inched his hands down to her butt and pulled her closer. She didn’t want to sound rude, but she also didn’t want his attention. “I’ll mind,” she returned shortly, trying to pull out of his grasp. When that failed, she cursed under her breath and a frisson of unease slithered under her skin. Where are Dee and Trish? Why aren’t they charging to my rescue?
* * *
The front legs of Nolan’s tilted back chair hit the floor with a resounding thud the minute he spotted Mia Reynolds entering The Raging Bull. His Mia. Narrowing his eyes, he took in her loose hair and enticing gap of the top of her dress. He knew women’s bodies as well as he knew the illegal drug trade, and he’d spent more than one night fantasizing about the lush curves she tried to hide beneath baggy shorts and loose tops. As much as he enjoyed seeing her in a dress that revealed her shapely calves every time she spun around, he didn’t like the way her current dance partner was looking at her. Just what the hell was she up to? The prickly woman he’d been trying to get to know hadn’t appeared to be the type to enjoy the club scene. She continued to surprise him, and he liked that.
Seated at a back corner table to better observe the patrons without notice, he watched her skip onto the dance floor, the rapid surge of possessiveness strangling him catching him off guard. He’d been fantasizing about getting that soft, round body under him for weeks. The third man who stepped in to claim her for a dance wiped away his enjoyment of watching her kick up her heels. He’d been keeping his eye out for shady, under-the-table drug deals when apprehension replaced pleasure on Mia’s face. Since he much preferred seeing her scowl at him or the uncertain flare of attraction in her green eyes, he deemed it time to step in.
There were a few people he’d spotted during the last two hours of unobtrusive surveillance whom he thought bore watching closer. One of them was the jerk who’d just shifted his hands onto Mia’s ass. Striding toward them, he saw her quick scowl, the one his cock always responded to. With a tap on the man’s shoulder, Nolan ignored his glare and shouldered him aside.
“My turn.” Before Mia could blurt out and call him Chief in front of one of the people he planned to keep a close eye on, he swooped down and covered her startled gasp with his mouth, pulling her up against him as the band switched to a slow ballad.
She stiffened at first, then melted against him, her low moan filling his mouth, her swift surrender taking him by surprise. It took a sharp nip to her plump lower lip to encourage her to open. Delving in, he explored the warm recesses of her mouth with teasing tongue strokes and felt her immediate response in the hardening of her nipples against his chest. He’d suspected his prim and proper landscaper possessed an untapped sensuous streak. Discovering he’d been right prompted him to push his pursuit of getting her into his bed.
* * *
One minute, Mia was desperate to get away from the jerk who had his hands on her butt and the next, she found herself pressed against Chief MacGregor’s wide, thick chest. Her surprise at his unexpected interference caught her off guard long enough for him to settle his mouth over hers in a hard kiss that stole her will and rocked her senses with the way he controlled every second of it. Her body overrode her objections to the man and sank against him, her hands gripping his bulging biceps to anchor herself against his onslaught. A sharp pain lanced her lower lip, startling her into opening her mouth for the sweep of his tongue. Shivers racked her body and drew a low moan that sounded foreign to her ears as he locked an arm around her waist in a tight hold. She couldn’t recall a time when she’d moaned over anything sexual, let alone a mere kiss.
Only ther
e was nothing simple about his mouth possessing hers, the no holds barred way he explored her teeth, gums and tongue until she swore he’d mapped out the entire inside of her mouth. He slid his other hand under her hair, cupped her nape and drew her up on her toes to mesh her body even closer to the slow gyration of his hips. The outline of his erection pressing against her mound shook her, a blatant reminder of how many months had passed since she’d had sex.
He pulled back, ran his tongue over the small throb in her lip she could now feel reciprocated between her legs, and whispered in a gruff tone, “Don’t call me Chief. I’ll explain later.”
It took hearing that familiar, deep voice to clear Mia’s befuddled, shocked senses. Crap! What was she doing? No one had ever kissed her like that, with such… possessiveness and control. The sting from that bite on her lower lip seemed to have blazed a trail straight down between her legs if the way her sheath contracted and moistened was any sign. Shock at the easy way she’d yielded compelled her to cover her unexpected response any way she could.
“You’re crowding me again.”
“Get used to it. What are you doing here? I never pictured you as the bar frequenting type.”
Much to her annoyance, Nolan never slowed the swaying of their bodies and she found it difficult to concentrate until his last sentence rubbed her the wrong way. She was tired of being labeled a goody-two-shoes, of doing nothing that might draw negative attention. Peter’s constant nagging about keeping up appearances after she’d embarrassed him and his prominent family by getting pregnant had infused enough guilt inside her to make her toe the line her whole adult life. Now, with the boys off to college and her ex making a mockery of everything he’d spent their twenty years together preaching about, she was free to do as she pleased.
“You don’t know me well enough to picture me doing anything,” she returned coolly, ignoring her pounding heart, sweaty palms and tingling body parts his nearness generated as she attempted to put space between them. “I have friends waiting for me.”
The chill that swept her when he nodded and dropped his arms made little sense since she did not like the man. “I would prefer you and your friends stay away from the dives along the highways. There are things going on that we’re tracking, which is why I’m trying to lie low as the chief.”
“That would mean driving all the way into Albuquerque, as I’m sure you know. I’m a big girl and can take care of myself.” Mia spun on her heel and stalked back to the bar where she didn’t need to see Dee and Trish’s smirks as she slid onto the stool. Nolan put her on edge enough. “Don’t say it,” she warned Dee.
“I have to. If that man held me, kissed me like that in front of a crowd, I’d be melting in a puddle at his feet.” Dee fanned herself, adding in a breathy tone, “Wow.”
“C’mon,” Trish cajoled. “Give. Was it as freaking hot as it looked?”
Hotter. Mia squelched that immediate reply and ignored their probing. “Is this for me?” she asked, picking up the cold bottle of beer. She hoped so as she could use it.
“Yes.” Dee sighed in disappointment. “I suppose you’ll want to turn tail and run when you’ve finished it.”
“There’s nothing to run from, but yes, I’m leaving after this. I have to get up early, remember?” That was her excuse and she was sticking to it, she insisted while denying the need to get away from the probing blue eyes of the first man to wake up her dormant lust. Why did her body suddenly crave the one man she couldn’t abide for more than five minutes?
* * *
Morning arrived way too early for Mia as she reached with a blind hand to squelch her blaring alarm at 6:30. Not since she’d been a hormone-driven teenager had she spent an entire night tossing and turning from skin dampening, leg twitching, pussy spasming dreams that left her drained and confused by morning. Sure, she’d read women reached their sexual prime in their thirties, and yes, a year and a half was a long time to go without it, but before last night she’d never experienced such a plaguing itch that left her so needy. It was not a pleasant feeling.
Rolling out of bed with a groan, she padded into the bathroom and brushed her wayward hair out of her face. Shaking her head to clear away the cobwebs of a restless night, she made short work of returning her long hair to its customary braid before bending to splash cold water on her face. Feeling marginally better, she dressed in shorts and a tee, took the time to brew a large, covered mug of coffee to carry downstairs and swore she wouldn’t think about the man who played a dominant role in her midnight fantasies.
That lofty goal lasted until she traipsed downstairs and saw Nolan perusing the row of knockoff rose bushes along with one of her best patrons, Clifton Birmingham. The well-to-do landowner had always been a good customer, but it wasn’t until he’d contracted with her at the beginning of summer to landscape the entire five acres surrounding his sprawling ranch home on the outskirts of town that he’d become her most elite client.
A quick glance found the guys busy unloading the large flatbed semi that brought in her weekly orders and, seeing no way around it, she strode toward Nolan and Clifton with a resigned sigh. The twitch between her legs the second the chief looked up and peered at her from under the brim of his Stetson didn’t bode well for getting through another encounter with him without having to grit her teeth.
“Good morning, gentlemen. Clifton, I have a partial drawing ready, if you’d like to come into the office to look at it.” Since she’d told him the entire five-acre plan would take her at least a week to design, she didn’t feel bad about putting emphasis on the word ‘partial’.
“No rush, Mia.” As he had a habit of doing, Clifton reached out and squeezed her shoulder, the look in his brown eyes friendly.
Why his touch always bothered her, she couldn’t say, but she shifted away from his hand by taking a step toward a row of small plants with white flowers and rosy pink, feathery seed heads, saying, “These are called Apache Plume and bloom spring through fall, need very little water and direct sunlight. I thought they’d look appealing lining a cobblestone walk up to your porch.”
Clifton nodded. “Yes, I like those.”
Nolan, damn the man, took advantage of her closer proximity to brush his fingers down her arm, the caress eliciting tingles in its wake. She meant to frown in disapproval when she flicked her gaze up, but her eyes landed on his mouth, and the way the corners kicked up in a taunting grin signaled he knew she remembered the feel of his lips on hers. Fisting her hands, she hissed under her breath as Clifton walked down the row, “Don’t do things like that. I’m working.”
Nolan bent down and whispered in her ear, “If you’d agree to let me show you what you’ve been missing, you wouldn’t be so uptight all the time.”
“I’m only uptight around you,” she snapped, the sudden leap of her pulse from his warm breath blowing in her ear as annoying as the man himself.
“You’d be better off asking yourself why that is instead of constantly denying what your body wants.” He hesitated and then said the last thing she expected to hear from him. “You’re still letting your prick of an ex control your life. Is that what you want?”
Was that what she was doing? She hoped not as that was the last thing she wanted from her divorce. “Is there something you need, other than to harass me?” she asked him, wishing his comment hadn’t made her question herself yet again.
He cocked his head and thumbed his hat back enough for her to look directly into his vivid gaze. “Someone should have put you over their knees a long time ago and spanked some sense into you. Keep denying the obvious, and that someone will be me. I’d like four Boxwood shrubs delivered to my place, please.” Her buttocks clenched, and her face grew warm as he pulled out a small notepad and jotted down his address. How could he toss out such a threat and then act as if it was no big deal? Ripping off the sheet, he handed it to her with a gleam in his eyes she trusted no more than she did her wayward libido around him. “Later today works fine.”
Mia took the paper and watched him stride away with mixed feelings. He tempted her, there was no doubt about that. The question was, why? The whole rugged, domineering, bad-boy image was as far from her type as could be. Then again, she’d only been in one relationship, slept with just one man, and look where her faithful naïveté had landed her. Shaking her head, she shoved her conflicting emotions aside and spotted Clifton talking to the guys by the flatbed. Time to give her best customer her undivided attention.
As she approached them, Drew and Donny were stepping down carrying a crate of Lavender. Barry turned from speaking to Clifton and came around in front of them to greet her. “Morning, boss. We’ll have this shipment unloaded by noon. Mr. Birmingham was just asking about the lavender.”
“I like the color of them,” Clifton commented as he watched Drew and Donny toting the crate of gray-green evergreens topped with violet-blue flowers into the greenhouse.
“Let’s go look at my design and see where we can add them.” She turned to Barry. “Thanks. Be sure to take a break when you’ve finished unloading.”
“You got it, boss.”
Mia led Clifton into her office and spent the next hour going over plans for his acreage, all the while images of her lying across the chief’s legs with her bare butt turning red under his hand flitting through her head. By the time they ironed out a few more details and he left, she was so frustrated and confused by Nolan’s threat, she couldn’t tell if she found the idea of being spanked by him disgusting or tempting. She couldn’t deny the more he came around with his blatant insinuations and proposals, the more curious she became about her body’s response to a man she didn’t even like.
By the time she pulled her truck up to his house later that afternoon, she wasn’t any closer to finding answers. Nolan stepped out onto his front porch as she slid out of the truck, her palms again turning clammy and her heartbeat speeding up as she watched him stroll down the drive with a loose-limbed swagger. Even through the denim of his jeans, she could see his thick, muscular thighs contract with each step and couldn’t help but compare his muscled build to Peter’s leaner frame and find her ex’s lacking.