Flynn's Kiss (Disarmed & Dangerous)

by Diane Saxon

  Flynn immediately dropped his hand and turned away. She couldn’t believe he could be shy, not when his eyes met hers so brazenly. She took a swift breath, stepped forward, and tried again.

  “I brought one for you too.”

  He took a moment before he glanced over his shoulder to nod at the bottle.

  “What about you?”

  “I don’t drink beer.”

  He turned and crossed his arms over his wide chest. His eyebrows twitched into a dark frown. A small jolt hit her dead center and spread liquid down her thighs, and when it reached her knees, it almost buckled them. Good Lord, he was wicked, and she wanted to devour him.

  “You were drinking it last night.” Considering how little time he’d been in the room, the man hadn’t missed much. In an attempt to keep her cool, she shot her hip forward, lifted her free hand, and tucked an errant curl behind her ear, noting the quick flick of his eyes as he took every move in.

  “No, I was holding a bottle someone bought me, I wasn’t drinking from it.”

  “Why didn’t you tell them you didn’t drink beer?”

  “Because I didn’t want to insult him.”

  Her attention was drawn to his left eyebrow as it shot up. The deep scar slashed across his face to intersect his eyebrow about half an inch from the outer edge. The hair swept upward in a rakish arch, giving him a devilish look as he raised it. Fascinated, she stepped in to take a closer look and heard his panicked intake of breath as he swiped the bottle out of her hand and lifted it to his mouth in one easy move to put an immediate barrier between them.

  Her tentative smile froze in place while she thought about how delightful it would be to take a good nip of his bottom lip. The man was gorgeously edible, and his strange combination of shy and downright bold drew her in.

  He lowered the bottle.

  “Why do you keep doing that?”

  “What?”

  “Staring at me like you’re just about to take a bite out of me.”

  An unfamiliar flare of daring wickedness seized her and she turned to walk away, gurgling laughter erupting from her throat. The man wasn’t so very dim, after all.

  “Maybe I am.” She flung him a flirtatious look over her shoulder, hoping to garner a teasing response back. A flat wave of disappointment lapped over her when he shrugged and turned away to wrestle with another table instead of running after her like she’d expected him to.

  If he wasn’t interested, she decided, it was probably best she stopped flinging herself at him. His eyes gave every indication he wasn’t averse to her, in contrast to the rest of his body language, but an uncomfortable bubble of embarrassment had started to grow, making her believe she needed to stop listening to what his eyes were telling her. Self-conscious, she glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed how she kept throwing herself at the hunk, but no one appeared to be paying any attention. If she curbed her enthusiasm, maybe she wouldn’t end up making a fool out of herself.

  She flicked open the first cloth and smoothed it over the trestle table. Using the clips Kate had supplied with her usual efficiency, she leaned over to tether it down at each corner. She moved onto the next, then the next, desperate not to glance over her shoulder again to see what handsome boy was doing.

  He’d made it pretty darned obvious he wasn’t interested, so why she was compelled to make a nuisance of herself she had no idea, except her heart had shot into overdrive and her breath came in short pants. Her neck was about to stiffen with the effort of not turning it to look at the man.

  Annoyed with herself, she grasped her wrist, felt for her pulse, and counted her bpm. She had to stop looking at him—or visualizing him because it was doing her health no good whatsoever. Bpm 89. Her chest expanded as she breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth. Again. She reached for another cloth and continued to regulate her breaths, determined to bring her pulse rate under control.

  With the final cloth laid, she stretched forward, leaned over the table, and smoothed her hands over the material to ensure any wrinkles were ironed out. As she straightened, the solid warmth of Flynn’s chest touched her back. A small gasp sneaked from her lips as his silent approach took her by surprise.

  “I’ve thought about it…” His lips grazed the top of her ear, and his breath fluttered a butterfly’s wing to raise the hairs on the back of her neck and send goose bumps to chase each other to her nipples, leaving them taut and hard.

  He passed his empty beer bottle over her shoulder and placed it in her limp hand, trailed his fingers up the inside of her wrist to her elbow, and then farther up, sending sparks of lust streaming through her veins.

  “…and I’m okay with you taking a bite out of me. In fact…” His hand came to rest on her shoulder, gave a gentle squeeze, and then slipped up her neck where his thumb massaged the base of her skull and almost sent her to the floor in a pool of melted wax. “…you can place those lips anywhere you like on my body.” His cheek grazed the tender skin at the back of her neck, lending purpose to his low seductive voice, but before she could draw a shaky breath, he’d gone. The man was a ghost. A hot, living, breathing, sexy ghost.

  Desperate to place a hand against her palpitating heart, blood rushed to her face and consumed it in a burning fire, but all she could do was lean, weak and breathless, against the table and hope no one noticed she was about to faint dead away. The handsome hunk was interested after all, and she didn’t need to take her pulse this time to know it leaped all over the place.

  Weak, she made a slow turn, leaned against the table, pushed her wayward hair away from her hot cheeks, and met his analyzing gaze as he erected another table on the other side of the yard. Her breasts throbbed, the heat between her legs pulsed, and she barely had the strength to pull a smile together.

  His face never altered expression, but his laser blue eyes smoldered back at her, and as he straightened to take a step toward her, the husky tones of a woman floated across the yard.

  “Where in hell’s name have you been hiding yourself, Flynn?”

  Deputy Sheriff Bill Marsden, a dark-haired, sultry amazon who stood almost three inches taller than him, moved toward Flynn with long-legged strides, grabbed him in a headlock, and almost pounded him into the grass at the same time as she scrubbed the top of his head with her knuckles in what looked like a determined effort to deprive him of his hair.

  Impressed with the contortions Flynn managed to get into, Liberty’s already racing pulse galloped in terror at the confrontation.

  “Jesus, Bill. Give over.” He twisted and writhed in the woman’s arms, and she grinned like a loon.

  The woman hooted long and low without an ounce of remorse or give in her stance.

  “Michael says that. You’ve been living too long with the English. Now stand and fight like a man.” She twisted and as he surged forward, she sent a fist into his stomach. Much to Liberty’s amazement, the man of iron barely creased.

  “No, goddammit.” She could hear the annoyance in his voice. “Fuck off.”

  Breath hitching in escalating panic, Liberty’s jaw almost hit the floor as the long-limbed dynamite, undisturbed by Flynn’s ferocity and foul language, continued to wrangle with the cowboy. Taller, but skinnier, she seemed to be at a distinct advantage, hauling him around like he was a rag doll, until Flynn simply dipped his body and rammed his shoulder into her belly, flinging her over his shoulders sideways and pinning her kicking legs to his muscular chest as she hollered like a woman possessed.

  Liberty’s pulse pounded with terror as four of Bill’s brothers and her new husband, Michael, sauntered around the corner of the house. The brothers all had varying degrees of indulgent smiles, rolling their eyes as if seeing their sister in a bear fight was an everyday occurrence. But Liberty’s attention shot straight to Michael, whose face turned instantly to stone as he caught sight of his wife in another man’s arms.

  Having known Kate’s brother, Michael, since the two women were at university together, Liberty
was aware of his past career as British Special Forces and his undisputed ability to slay a person with one look, never mind the pressure point knowledge he had. She’d tended to give him a wide berth on the rare occasion he was there, his cool appraisal filling her full of apprehension. As for Bill’s brothers, there wasn’t one of them she would want to cross. Since she’d arrived, they’d all treated her with gentle hospitality, but they were all dangerous men and to her mind, they stood shoulder to shoulder with Michael, like a pack of hungry wolves.

  Liberty feared for the life of the smaller, leaner cowboy as he ignored the five men approaching and continued to jostle Bill. Not quite sure what she intended to do, but distressed at the unfolding events and in genuine fear of Flynn’s safety, Liberty shot forward. Flynn swung around in a circle and Bill thrashed her legs in wild abandon, her feet almost smacking into Liberty’s face.

  Flynn launched Bill’s body through the air, straight into the arms of all four of her brothers. They caught her as casually as though someone had thrown them a football. Still laughing, Bill automatically reached out from the safety of her brothers’ arms and stroked Michael’s chest, very possibly to keep him from breaking the other man’s neck.

  Liberty caught Ethan’s quick glance from under his eyelashes as he straightened his deputy uniform and tucked in his shirt that had worked its way out of his pants in the tussle with his sister.

  “Michael, you haven’t met Flynn. He’s been gone for about three years now.” Bill’s voice vibrated with truculence as she pouted her beautiful mouth in a moue, which Liberty wished she had the ability to emulate. Tall and willowy, the woman slipped gracefully to her feet and stood, proud and regal. She should have been on the front page of a fashion magazine instead of working as a deputy sheriff and wearing dirt-brown trousers and khaki shirts.

  “Flynn’s another one of my cousins. Flynn, meet Michael, my husband.” Bill’s voice, filled with pride, lowered to a husky whisper.

  Liberty held her breath as the two men gave each other a cool appraisal, and she hoped to God they never came to blows. She wasn’t sure which one of them was the more dangerous. She knew what Michael did for a living, but sweeping a glance over the slighter man had her wondering exactly what Flynn had been involved in. What she did know was she wasn’t willing to witness these two pounding on each other. Swallowing a hard lump in her throat, she stepped in between the two men, who towered over her slight five-foot-two inch frame, and out of the corner of her eye she caught the movement of Ethan moving in. Panic stricken, she touched shaky fingers to Flynn’s arm with little time to appreciate how solid his muscles were, like tempered steel, and how dangerous it made him. He afforded her a brief glance before he sidestepped her to hold his hand out to Michael.

  “Mac mentioned you.” His eyes narrowed as they skimmed over Michael, and then he nodded. “Anyone who takes on Bill must be a fucking brave man.”

  Michael’s grin was wide and genuine, and the onlookers moved away, looking slightly disappointed nothing exciting was going to transpire between the two alpha males. Ethan took a moment longer, eyes narrowed, chewing on his bottom lip.

  Relief gushed through Liberty’s body, leaving her legs weak, and she wondered if anyone would even notice if she simply sank to the ground. She detested confrontation, had never been able to cope with it. Her heart was about to explode in her chest, her breath came in small, fast pants. She needed a paper bag to prevent herself from hyperventilating. She needed a small shock to stop the round of hiccups about to start.

  Flynn stepped back, reached out and gave her back a casual, comforting stroke, and flashed the required shock straight through her. He turned his face to hers and remained deadpan as he studied her. His direct blue gaze raked her face. He saw more than she wanted him to see—her gawping eyes, her strained mouth, the way she was drawing air in through clenched teeth. Then he gave a swift wink that shot another hard jolt to her heart and turned back to his conversation with Michael and Bill. His hand stilled and came to rest in the small of her back as he drew her into the circle. The heat of his warm caress washed through her skin, but instead of her heart rate dropping back to normal, it skipped a few beats every so often and then raced along in happy abandon.

  She hadn’t a clue what was being said, since all the blood had left her brain and there was just a wild wind rushing around inside her empty head. Flynn slid his hand farther up her back, rubbed his thumb in a circular motion at the base of her shoulder blade, and she almost whimpered.

  “Don’t you, Liberty?”

  She glanced up at the three tall people surrounding her and couldn’t even place which one of them had spoken.

  “I’m sorry? I was not…thinking.”

  Bill’s wide easy smile accompanied her familiar arm around her shoulder as she drew her away from the men and made her way toward the table. Liberty could only thank her lucky stars the woman hadn’t decided to put her in a headlock.

  “I was telling Flynn about you staying in one of the lodges in the woods. Turns out he is too. On the other side of the clearing from yours. I think it’s almost a mile as the crow flies.”

  “Oh.” She missed the reassuring warmth of his hand on her back, but as she glanced over her shoulder, he’d already turned away and was mid-wrangle with setting up chairs around the tables.

  As a horde of people arrived, bringing with them food, kids, and dogs, Liberty disengaged herself from Bill, stretched her false smile wide, and greeted everyone as though they were long lost friends, offering cool drinks and warm greetings.

  •●•

  The curly-haired ballistic missile was damned popular and difficult to pin down. She’d been bouncing all over the place, offering drinks, finding seats, and now the inexhaustible woman was placing the last of the food dishes down the center of the table as everyone else grabbed their own seats.

  She’d seized his attention and he had no idea why. The exact opposite of anyone he believed he would gravitate toward, too loud, too lively, too…sexy.

  She threw back her head and laughed at something Kate said as she accepted a glass of white wine from her. There. Just there. It drew him in. The tilt of her head, the line of her throat.

  With a quick glance around the tables full of settling guests, he turned his attention back to Liberty, narrowed his eyes and squinted her way, resisting every muscle in his face straining to smile as she leaned in to kiss the baby’s wide open mouth and came away with a face full of dribble. If he smiled, people would get the wrong idea. They’d start to believe he wasn’t such a hard-ass. Then they’d expect him to talk.

  He cast another glance around and spotted odd chairs here and there to slide into. He didn’t want to sit next to Bill. The woman would torture the hell out of him, and her brothers were about to get rowdy, and he didn’t want that, either.

  He hauled in a weary breath. It was too late to escape now. He blew out a sigh as he stepped to the end of the table and rested his hand on a free chair just as young Jacob pounced forward and tried to snag it from under him. He treated him to a long, hard stare and the kid backed off, and then launched himself at the chair next to the first one. Flynn’s hand reached it a moment before the kid’s did.

  “Mine.” He kept his voice low and calm and treated the kid to his piercing gaze and a slow lift of his slashed eyebrow used to its best effect, until he considered Jacob might just pee himself. Then he gave a lopsided smile and nodded in the brunette’s direction.

  “Go tell Liberty I have a chair for her and then scoot.”

  “I was going to ask Miss Liberty if she wanted to sit next to me.”

  With a jolt, Flynn realized the kid had grown up in the last three years, and the boy looked like he’d developed a crush on the same woman he had his eye on. He gave the kid another long perusal, surprised to note the widening of his shoulders and the lean muscle tone already developing from the long hard work of wrangling. Jacob had been a child the last time he’d seen him, now he was almost a ma
n. Almost, but not quite.

  “Mine too,” he growled next to the boy’s ear, nice and low so no one else could hear. Jacob’s eyes shot wide and he returned Flynn’s stare before he gave a quick nod.

  “Yessir.”

  Flynn watched his nephew scamper across the yard to speak to Liberty. He might pretend, but the damned boy had never been scared of him. Even when Flynn’s face was ravaged and raw and his temper riled, the kid had been the only one who hadn’t annoyed him as he’d stared at him with morbid fascination and a million questions.

  Flynn raised a hand to his damaged jawline just as the sexy woman turned her head in his direction, her large violet eyes met his and widened as he raised his eyebrow and imperceptively dipped his head at the chair he had reserved for her. She could shoot him down in flames right now to punish him for his reaction to her earlier, but for some reason, Flynn knew he’d attracted her like no other woman in the last three years. He just didn’t understand why.

  Used to the stunning beauty of starlets and megastars, Flynn considered Liberty was not necessarily the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but when she treated him to her wide grin and bright white teeth, she almost had him staggering back a step. She seemed to glow from within, and Flynn reckoned every head in the place turned to watch her sexy walk over to him.

  He wanted to check to see if his tongue was hanging out, but reckoned with the way he was clenching his jaw, nothing was getting through the barrier of his teeth.

  He narrowed his eyes as she approached, giving her a swift perusal. He noted the pink flush on her delicate skin was probably not so much due to his presence as to the kiss of the late afternoon sun. He couldn’t resist sweeping a tender finger down the length of her cute little nose, pleased to see her look of surprise as the smile dropped suddenly from her lips and she stood completely still in front of him. He stared at her mouth, but stopped himself just short of touching those soft full lips, choosing instead to flick the end of her sweet nose with the tip of his finger.

  “You should wear sunscreen and a hat.” And for some inexplicable reason, Flynn took his Stetson off his own head and dropped it onto her bouncy curls, almost snatching it back when he glanced around the table and noted the avid attention from his fellow diners. He’d just made a silent declaration of his interest in the smiling bombshell.