by M.A. Stacie
Taylor cursed and took another swig of the juice. “Not much of a choice, then.”
“The choice is all yours to make. Aren’t you lucky?”
For once, he chose to let Josh’s sarcasm pass unacknowledged. He hated shopping. But he hated cleaning up horse shit far more, so his decision was already made.
“I don’t really see what advice I can give her, but I’ll take her, sure. When?”
Libby walked into the kitchen clutching a steaming mug. “Now?”
Taylor stared, liking the way she looked away whenever they made eye contact. He reached for a cloth and dabbed at the orange juice on his shirt as he walked over to her. “Right now, Blue? Don’t you want to finish your”—he inhaled—“coffee?”
“I can get one while we’re out. Besides, I’m worried about the time. I want to be finished in time to pick up Levi from school.” She maneuvered around him to place the mug into the sink.
Taylor caught her arm, folding his fingers around her bicep. He lowered his head, his lips millimeters from her ear. “Is there a problem?”
Josh coughed as Libby wrenched herself free. “Yes, there is, but not with my son. You’re the problem. I’m not property, Taylor, so I’d appreciate it if you’d stop manhandling me.”
He tossed the towel onto the counter. “I meant with the brats at school. Is that why you’re picking him up from school, rather than having him take the bus?”
“If you’re in town anyway, there’s no reason to make Levi take the bus. School is on the way home,” Josh said, receiving a glare from Taylor. “Now, are you going to help or would you rather deal with the horse crap?”
Reluctantly, Taylor agreed. He smirked toward Libby. “I’ll be your man-slave . . . if you buy the coffee.”
Libby shoved at his shoulder, grinning. “You wish you were my slave.”
“You keep saying I wish, Blue. It makes me wonder if you’re the one wishing.”
Josh snorted and muttered, “You really do wish.”
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“What about this one?” Libby pointed toward a blue bicycle with bright white handles.
Taylor winced. “Are you kidding me? It’s for girls.”
She stared at the bike and then back to Taylor, her mouth hanging open. “It’s not.” She looked again. “It’s blue!”
“So blue automatically means it’s for boys? Look at it!”
They had already been to three different stores, but Taylor had claimed none of the bikes was good enough. This was the last store, and she had to find something. Levi would be devastated if he didn’t wake up to find a new bike on the morning of his birthday.
Taylor moved behind her, his heat radiating through her heavy coat. Her body’s reaction to him grew more intense the longer she was around him, and no amount of self-denial eased the intensity.
Taylor raised his arm over her shoulder, his lips close to her ear as he spoke. “You don’t see it, do you?”
“What, the basket on the front?”
A low groan filled her ears, one that had her thighs quivering. It was low, guttural, one she’d imagined him uttering between twisted sheets and entangled limbs.
“Boys don’t have baskets on their bikes.”
His words snapped her from her thoughts, and she rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”
“Sure, whatever.”
Libby looked through the few bikes on display. None of them sparked her interest, and she slumped in defeat. “Dammit, what do I do now?”
Taylor walked over to the bikes, his heavy boots clomping on the floor. He touched each one, assessing the frame and size. She watched him, a little too interested in the way his jeans stretched across his ass and the way his hair flopped into his eyes. In any other circumstances she would be attracted to him, but she knew how thorny he could be. She was also aware of the reason he’d arrived in Hunter’s Hollow in the first place. The man was too high-maintenance for her. She did not need someone like him in her life, no matter how good he looked.
Libby frowned. Josh had told her about Taylor’s problems, but Taylor had yet to say anything himself.
“Taylor?”
He hummed, pressing the back tire on a white bike.
“What happened at home?”
He paused, turning to face her. “At home when?”
“Where you live—Sea Pointe. What happened to make you come here?”
His skin paled, and his sharp blue eyes darted to the floor. Lines appeared on his forehead, and when he spoke she had to move closer to hear him.
“It’s nothing. I just got messed up in something I shouldn’t have. I got in deep and I couldn’t cope. I lost myself.” He changed the subject. “This one looks pretty decent. Does Levi like white? If not, we could always spray it a different color.”
“It doesn’t sound like nothing to me. You’re very secretive about it, but I can see it makes you angry.” She stepped closer to him, looking at the bike and trying to imagine it in another color. “Do you really think spraying it will help?”
“If we took off the wheels and handlebars I bet we could get a pretty smooth finish. And it really was no big deal. I got into a mess, and I came here to get away from it.”
“You said you’re being kept hostage. Was that a lie?” Libby kept eye contact as he stood up straight. “You can tell me, you know.”
“And maybe I will. Just not here.” He paused. “And it wasn’t a lie. A few weeks ago I felt like a hostage. I see the situation a little differently now.”
She would have liked to question him further, but she held her tongue. He was right. This wasn’t the place. Since he hadn’t rebuffed her completely, she would try again later.
“Okay.” She shrugged. “So do you really think we could repaint it?”
He flashed her a wolfish grin, and his eyes shined. He had that bad boy aura women flocked to, but she doubted Taylor had the ability to hurt anyone. His dark edge came from something else, something she wasn’t scared of. She knew he was safe, though her libido begged to differ. In that regard, the man was toxic.
Putting those thoughts aside, Libby scanned the store for an assistant. She would take Taylor’s advice and buy the bike, hoping the spray paint would work. White wasn’t Levi’s favorite color.
Taylor continued to assess the other bikes as she looked across the other side of the store. Someone caught her eye outside the window, and her heart thudded. She squinted, but people were bustling about, making it difficult for her to focus. Not that it mattered—her brain had already hit panic mode.
Her first instinct was to flee, to get into the car, get Levi, and drive until she could no longer keep her eyes open. She swallowed, telling herself it wasn’t possible. It was from far away, and her eyes were deceiving her, that was all. She was safe there.
Repeating that mantra, Libby took deep breaths, trying to calm down enough to focus on the person across the street. The more she looked, the more she questioned herself. The hair wasn’t quite right and, now that she thought about it, the height wasn’t right either. She was anxious about nothing. It had to be mistaken identity.
Libby exhaled, her heart slowing. Her mind had run away with her. She’d been safe there for years. Hunter’s Hollow was her home, and it was so far away from her past that she couldn’t be traced.
“You okay?”
She looked at Taylor and offered him a small smile. “Sure, why?”
“You look pale.” He came closer, lifting his hand to her jaw. His thumb caressed her skin, swamping her in a comfort she wasn’t used to. Especially not from him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m fine,” she said, still trying to breath. His touch wasn’t helping. “I didn’t have anything to eat this morning, and then we rushed here. I feel a little faint, but I’ll be fine.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he stared at her, but it wasn’t with laughter. She was tempted to look back out onto the street, but she knew he’d catch her. It would leave her with no ch
oice but to explain herself, so she buried the urge and smiled. “Honestly, I’m good. But what’s with the handsy routine?”
“I don’t know. Since I got here, my decisions have been a little screwed, but when I’m with you I feel like I can forget all that stuff. I can be me. I suppose I’m showing you the me I forgot to when I arrived.” He stroked her chin with his thumb. “Shall we eat? We have time, right?”
“Okay,” she said warily, ignoring the little thrill that shot through her. She checked her watch and looked back at him. “Um, we could eat.”
His returning smile made his eyes twinkle. “Good.” He let go of her jaw and linked his fingers with hers. “Let’s get this bike and get out. I’m absolutely starving.”
Libby laughed, feeling lighter as she let go of her heavy thoughts. She looked down at their linked hands. Taylor noticed, and he chuckled.
“Go with it. I think it must be something in the air.”
“I doubt it has anything to do with the air.” She smiled. “You know, you’re always hungry. You’ve been working hard on the ranch.”
He shrugged as they walked toward the cash register, their hands still joined. “I guess.”
She tsked. “So noncommittal. You never give a real answer.”
“Sure I do.” He paused his steps. “Go on, ask me something.”
“Okay. What your job was in Sea Pointe.”
“Easy, I helped manage my father’s corporation. I’m the CFO.”
She smirked. “So that one you answer.”
The cashier interrupted their conversation and batted her eyes at Taylor. “Can I help you?”
Taylor didn’t seem to notice. He directed her toward the bike and explained who it was for. Libby watched as his expression softened when he spoke about her son. She’d never noticed the change before, hadn’t thought he even liked Levi, but she couldn’t deny what she saw. Her attraction toward him grew with each interaction, and this side of him made it difficult for her to stay resolute. Telling herself she didn’t need lust clouding her judgment simply wasn’t working anymore. Her body had decided it wanted Taylor regardless of his thorny nature.
“You do? Phoebe, that would make his day. Thank you.”
The cashier walked away, flashing Taylor a quick grin before disappearing into the back of the store.
“What was that?” Libby asked, her skin prickling.
“She said there was a black version of the bike in the back. The last one. We won’t need to spray it.”
Libby nodded. After they purchased the bike, they found a restaurant and sat down to lunch. Libby’s mind was busy trying to understand her reaction. Taylor was all wrong for her—she knew that, and yet she couldn’t stop the sensations that rolled through her whenever he was close. None of it made sense. She’d been so guarded for so long, she found it both perplexed and electrified her.
She felt safe around him. No matter what she’d been told about him, or what he offered up, something inside her knew she was okay with him. Of course, her gut had been very wrong before. However that instinct had brought her to Josh and her life now, so she decided go with her gut this time, too.
“Are you going to finish that sandwich?”
Libby shook her head, looking at the half-eaten food. She had been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she couldn’t even recall what was on the bread.
“Can I have the rest?”
Before she responded, he reached out and lifted the plate. He ate the rest in three large bites, humming in approval when he’d finished. Libby checked her watch, gasping when she noticed the time. “We have to go if we’re going to make it in time to pick up Levi.”
Taylor grabbed his coat from the back of his chair and tossed some bills onto the table.
“I told you I would pay.” Libby opened her wallet to dig for some bills, but Taylor wrapped his hand around hers.
“No way.” He shook his head. “I asked you out to lunch.”
They walked from the restaurant, Taylor’s hand resting at the base of her spine. She liked it. For some reason that small action made her feel like a woman, and in a world where men surrounded her, it was important.
“Ever the gentleman,” she said and stepped out onto the street. His hand touched hers, and little sparks zinged up her arm. He winked, linking their fingers and tugging her toward the car. Libby laughed, but as she glanced across the street the smile slipped from her lips. It hadn’t been her imagination.
He was here.
He was coming for her.
Her dread increased with every thump of her heart. She needed to run. She needed to get away, and she needed to do it quick.
Taylor was speaking to her, his words nothing more than a garbled mess. Libby heard only the blood roaring in her ears.
He could see her. She was standing in the middle of the street, her red hair like a beacon. Her head spun, and she battled for a way out.
“Hey, you okay? You’re pale again.” Taylor tugged on her arm.
Blinking, Libby couldn’t think of an explanation. She stared at him wondering how she could hide. “Kiss me,” she said.
“Excuse me?” Taylor’s top lip lifted as a smile started to form.
Libby didn’t ask again. She launched herself at him, pressing her lips to his as she hid her face from her past.
Chapter 9
Taylor froze for about a millisecond before all caution fled and he returned the kiss. He framed her face with his hands, enjoying the softness of her skin as he held her close. The world around him dissolved, each caress of her lips causing it to fade until Libby was the center of his universe.
Her demand had taken him by surprise, and before he could wrap his head around what was going on, she had already pressed her mouth to his. His heart raced, his chest and abdomen tightening. An urgency began to build within him, and the longer their lips stayed locked, the more intense and demanding it became. Just one kiss had him reeling.
Libby hummed as Taylor tilted her head to the side and slipped his tongue into her mouth. He slid it against hers, his own groan of sheer pleasure escaping. He didn’t understand any of it, but he was powerless to stop it. He wanted it. He wanted her.
Her taste was ambrosia and he needed more. He didn’t know what had inspired her to ask him for a kiss, and he wasn’t going to question her. He concentrated on the sensation low in his gut. One that only intensified as he deepened the kiss.
Libby clutched the sides of his coat, pulling him closer as her tongue slid against his. When she hummed, the vibration in his lips shot straight to his balls, and he had to remind himself they were on the street.
They were jostled by a passerby, and Libby stumbled back. Taylor grasped the front of her coat as their lips parted, and Libby gasped as her back hit the store wall hard.
“Damn, are you hurt?”
Libby’s eyes widened. She touched her swollen lips with her fingers. Taylor didn’t need her to relay her feelings, as they were written all over her face. She was as shocked by the kiss as he’d been.
“I’m okay, I guess. What happened?”
Taylor wiggled his eyebrows, shooting her a cocky grin. “I kissed you, Blue. I rocked your world.”
“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “I was the one who kissed you. And I didn’t lose my balance because of that, so stop preening your feathers.”
“Really? Well, I guess next time I need to try harder.” He tugged on her coat, pulling her closer to him. Her pupils dilated and she licked her lips. He enjoyed watching her anticipation, felt the same rush of adrenaline, and as he lowered his mouth to hers, he heard the same sharp intake of breath.
“Get a room,” a man said a second before he barged into Taylor with his shoulder.
“What the fuck?” Taylor shouted. By the time he turned, he had no idea which one of the crowd had stumbled into him. He turned to Libby, seeing the worried expression on her face as she scanned the shoppers.
“I guess I’ll ask you again. Are you hurt this time?�
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Libby shook her head and lowered her gaze to the ground. “We need to go.” She spoke quietly, the noise of the street almost drowning her out.
“Shit, Levi. Yeah, come on.” He grabbed her hand and led her through the crowd toward her car. He felt high. Better then high. Higher than he’d been at any time in his life.
After they climbed into the car, Libby fidgeted in her seat, looking behind her through the window.
“No one’s blocking us,” Taylor said. “We’re okay to reverse.”
“What? Oh, yeah. I was just checking.” She turned the engine on and reversed with caution from the parking lot out onto the road. The silence that filled the car felt awkward, and Taylor began to question whether kissing Libby had been a mistake.
He was a mess, a detoxing cocaine addict who should stay well away from Libby and her son. He couldn’t blame the drugs alone; he’d been a fuckup even before he discovered that particular addiction. It was no wonder Kyran hadn’t bothered to call him about his impending marriage. Even though they were brothers, they’d never been really close, and in the last few years their relationship had gone to shit.
Kyran had been there for him more times than he cared to remember, but all he’d done was thrown it in his brother’s face. He resented Kyran, jealous he’d been at their mom’s bedside when she died. Taylor’d been with one of their many nannies, and that fact still cut deep. Their father had all but forgotten them the moment he became a widower. Kyran had been the one to read Taylor bedtime stories and mop up his tears when he cried. The numerous nannies didn’t do anything they weren’t paid for, so affection was out.
Most of all, Taylor hated that Kyran had had the luxury of a goodbye. Taylor had been left nothing but a one-sided conversation with a polished tombstone.
“You’re quiet,” Libby said.
“I could say the same about you.”
“I was thinking.” She flicked on the blinker, preparing to turn right.