by Vanessa Hart
* * * *
Minutes later, Leslie sat on the picnic table bench with her legs across Gray's lap, her bare foot in his hands. She closed her eyes as his fingers gently probed the skin around her instep. She tried to ignore the intimacy of the scene. In his effort to pull out whatever she had imbedded in her foot, his touch both soothed and disturbed her.
"Hold still."
"What is it?" she asked, flinching as he yanked the object free.
"A fish hook." He held up the offending metal hook for her inspection.
"Rob's, I guess. It must've been buried in the carpet."
"When was your last tetanus shot?"
"Uh, just last year."
He made no move to release her foot. Instead, he gently rubbed at the injured flesh. She tried to ignore the rush of fantasies that his ministrations triggered, of him starting at her toes and kissing his way up her naked body...
"It isn't bleeding, but we should put some antibiotic on it."
"Rob showed us the first aid kit. I'll handle it." You can turn loose of my foot now.
"Not without shoes or something to protect the wound." Her foot remained hostage under his arm while he continued his ministrations. "You aren't used to going without shoes, are you?"
"No." What was he doing? His thumb massaged at her instep, rubbing tiny circles ... tiny sensual circles. "But m-my boots were wet."
"I know." He grinned, continuing the foot rub. "Is this helping?"
Helping? Helping her into ecstasy, she thought, stifling a moan. "It's ... not hurting now, if that's what you mean." She pushed the words through clenched teeth.
"Relax. Haven't you ever had a foot rub before?"
"No. And I don't need one now." Her words lacked conviction. When she yanked at her foot, Gray tightened his hold.
"Here's the first aid kit." Kat stepped down from the motorhome, carrying a white plastic box.
"Thanks, Kat. She was about to get away." Gray grinned at Leslie and winked.
"I can first-aid myself, Gray."
She resisted the urge to pull her foot free, however. The pungent odor of antiseptic gel tickled her nostrils. The chilled gel should have soothed her flesh. Instead, Gray's heated touch made her forget her injured foot. Raw need tingled up her leg, coiling to her groin. Much more of this and she'd come. She'd never been this sensitive to a man's touch.
His grip held, even as he stripped backing from an adhesive bandage and covered the wound. "There you go."
She didn't thank him as she swung her legs from his lap. Frankly, her wicked side missed the pleasure of his caress. She had scoffed at the idea of foot fetishes and toe sex--until now. It wouldn't have taken much more of his talented fingers to send her over the edge.
Trying in vain to ignore her hormones and a body humming with arousal, she caught herself fantasizing about what else those gifted hands could do to other parts of her body.
Get a grip, Les.
Well, what did she expect? Having sworn off men and sex, she had denied herself pleasures of the flesh. It had been too long since Josh had touched her. Although, come to think of it, he had never touched her feet. Maybe if Gray hadn't been engaged to another woman she would have taken him up on that foot rub.
She picked up her socks, shook them, then pulled them on. They were dry enough. She wasn't about to expose her feet to more fish hooks.
Or foot massages.
Kat took the first aid kit from Gray, turned to go inside the motorhome, then paused. "I'm going to make some iced tea. Anybody interested?"
"Sure," Leslie murmured.
After Kat disappeared inside, Gray moved closer to Leslie on the bench. Too close. His warmed unique scent teased her, drawing her. She gripped her knees, as if afraid he'd notice their quivering.
"Thanks, Gray, for once again coming to my rescue."
"I guess this makes us even."
She laughed without humor, shaking her head. "Not even close. I didn't pick you up and carry you before rendering first aid."
"Believe me, it was my pleasure." His smoldering gaze locked onto hers. "I'm sorry if you think I'm a jerk, Leslie, but I can't help what I'm feeling."
She glanced down at her hands, now twisted in her lap. "No."
"Yes." He reached toward her, covering her hands with his. "I have my faults, but I always shoot for honesty. I am attracted to you. It's making me crazy, and I don't know what to do about it. All I know is I have to stop this wedding..."
"No! You're just having last minute..."
"If one more person tells me I'm having bridegroom jitters, I'll blow a gasket." He released her hands, then rubbed his hand over his face. When he met her gaze again, anguish pulled at his eyes. "I'm a level-headed thirty-four year-old who knows his own heart. And my heart says..."
"Be sure it's your heart you're thinking with. Frankly, I'm attracted to you, too. We've established that. But it's lust, Gray. Lust and curiosity."
He shook his head, but didn't look away. "Simple lust I could deal with. What I'm feeling for you goes beyond curiosity or lust. I've never felt like this before."
She bit her lip to keep from echoing his words. She had never felt this way before, either, not even with Josh. Was this what Josh felt for what's-her-name? She frowned at the humiliating memory.
"I see you need convincing." Gray dipped his head toward hers, then lightly grazed her lips with his.
Don't react, her mind screamed. But resistance evaporated, along with all reason, when his mouth settled over hers. The sounds of campers driving past, of distant children shouting, and warbling birds drifted away, muted by the roar of blood rushing through her head. She closed her eyes, accepting his kiss, and moved into his embrace.
He tasted so good, so right, of coffee and cream. His tongue teased at her lips, probing. Opening to him, she welcomed his exploration of her mouth. Her head spun, as if detached from her body, reeling with awareness of Gray's arousal. A jolt of raw desire rocketed through her, then pooled at the juncture of her thighs. She wanted this man, ached for him to satisfy her. With unparalleled hunger, she needed him inside her. Now.
Gray stiffened, his lips stilled. Then he pushed away from her, peeling away the arms she didn't remember wrapping around his neck.
"Well!"
Opening her eyes, Leslie met the angry glare of a petite blond woman. A colorful print tunic emphasized the red splotches in each pale cheek. White pants, elasticized at the ankles, matched sensible soft-soled walkers. Nurse attire. Her rigid arms held a bakery box. Embarrassment flushed through Leslie as realization dawned.
"I drove up here to surprise you for your birthday," the woman said, ripping open the box. "But it looks like I'm the one who got the surprise."
Before either Gray or Leslie could manage a response, Gray's fiancée dumped the perfectly frosted birthday cake over his head.
Chapter Six
"Quick!" Leslie urged, her voice muffled by the chunk of cake crammed in his ear. "Catch her before she leaves."
Gray sprang from the picnic table. "I would if I could see where the hell I'm going."
He wiped at the sugary glob dripping into his eyes. Catch her before she leaves and what? he wondered. It wasn't as if he could explain away his behavior. Sure, Myra, I was kissing Leslie. Kissing her? His tongue was down her throat and his body still ached from his throbbing hard-on.
He reached Myra's tan Volkswagen as she started the engine. Gripping the door frame, he peered inside, shouting, "Wait! Please?"
She lowered the window, glowering at him. "You better get the wild thing out of your system before the wedding, sugar, 'cause I won't be tolerating infidelity."
"The wild thing?" He pulled his sticky hand back before it adhered to the car, then grabbed the window.
"Whatever you guys have to prove before you get married. Bachelor parties and all that." Glaring at the icing Gray's fingers smudged on her window, she put the transmission into gear. "I need to go. I'm due at work in two hours."
&
nbsp; "Myra? We need to talk. This isn't just last minute..."
"I don't want to hear your excuses, Grayson Webster."
"Excuses?" He yanked his fingers from the window as she raised it. "Wait! Myra..."
She spun the tires in the loose gravel, then fishtailed the VW down the park road. He ran a sticky hand through dust-filled icing now caked in his hair. Damn.
He slunk from the road to his camper, risking a quick glance at site thirteen. Leslie had disappeared, not that he blamed her. What a scene. The bakery box lay discarded on the ground. Remains of a yellow birthday cake littered the picnic table. He'd have to clean up later, after his shower.
He turned on the water heater, but didn't wait for it to take the chill off the water. He stripped out of his sticky clothes, leaving them in a pile in the narrow hallway. Stepping into the bathroom, he leaned into the shower and turned on the faucet. In spite of Myra's attack, his aroused body still throbbed from Leslie's kiss. A cold shower suited him fine.
What a birthday.
* * * *
"I cleaned up the mess from the cake," Kat announced, bouncing inside the motorhome.
Leslie slumped over the notebook on the dinette. "That's nice. But you should've left it for Gray."
Kat set two paper plates with egg salad sandwiches on the table. "Look, I know why you're disgusted with the guy, and I don't blame you. But don't let him spoil our vacation."
Disgusted with him? If only that were the case, Leslie thought, biting down hard on her lip. Shame washed over her as she relived the embarrassment of Gray's fiancée catching them in a kiss. Actually, it had been more than mere kissing, which only worsened the humiliation. Poor Myra.
"What do you mean, you don't blame me?"
Kat slid onto the opposite dinette bench, then picked up one of the sandwiches. "I, er, saw him kissing you."
Leslie closed her eyes and groaned. "You mean, you saw me kissing him back, practically crawling into his lap."
"Well, that, too. Here I thought he was a nice guy, making me tea and acting all concerned." She waved her hand as if swatting a fly. "He's no better than Josh."
"Hmm. I can't argue." She reached for a sandwich. "But don't hold me blameless. I know he's engaged, yet look at my behavior."
"He's still a creep."
Instead of biting into the sandwich, Leslie chewed at her lip, still savoring the taste of Gray. She struggled in vain to think of the man as a creep. "He can't be trusted, but what guy can?"
"Besides Rob."
"Besides Rob, of course. Still, he is an incredible kisser."
Kat's eyes narrowed. "When did you kiss Rob?"
"I meant Gray."
"You aren't thinking of using him for sex, are you?"
Leslie choked out a laugh at Kat's bluntness. "Well, why not? Men use women for sex all the time."
"Because I know you. It could never be just sex. This guy'll destroy you, just like Josh."
"Destroy me?" Is that what had happened? Had she allowed Josh's betrayal to destroy her? "No! I refuse to ever give a man that power again."
Kat grimaced. "Don't yell at me. You'll give me a headache."
"I'm sorry. Speaking of headache, tell me how you're feeling. Do you really think you're pregnant?"
A smile twitched at her sister's mouth. "Maybe. Rob's going to swing by later with one of those home pregnancy tests."
"So he knows?"
"I told him last night that I needed the test. He was ready to go out and buy cigars, the silly man."
She swallowed another bite of sandwich. "I'm happy for you, Kat. Whether or not you're preggars, it's great having a guy so in love with you."
"Yeah." Kat sighed and mugged a starry-eyed face, making Leslie laugh.
"He's a lucky guy, too."
Kat's expression sobering, she reached across the table, then squeezed Leslie's arm. "Your turn will come."
Leslie shook her head. "I don't think so."
"Don't give up. You'll meet your Mr. Right someday."
"Are you sure Rob doesn't have an older brother you haven't told me about?"
Kat sighed. "I wish he did, honey. An older version of Rob is exactly what you need."
But Leslie couldn't conjure up an image of an older Rob Hupp. Her rebellious mind focused only on the blue-eyed hunk with the thick brown hair and sexy mouth. She choked down the rest of her sandwich, then took a swig of iced tea. "Exactly what I need is a flash of inspiration for my next Sunny Madison mystery."
"What do you have so far?"
She flipped to a clean page in her notebook. "I was going to have a wedding interrupted with a murder, but I haven't decided on the killer, victim, or how the suspect is tied to Sunny."
"Make Sunny the bride, then kill off her fiancé."
"Not bad, Kat. Let me play around with that." Leslie tapped her pen against her chin. "Since she didn't have a love interest at the end of Jack Be Nimble, Jack Be Dead, it'll have to be a sudden romance. I'm not sure I can pull that off."
"Sure you can. You can have a lot of time pass since the end of the last book."
"I could name her fiancé 'Peter.' I'll title it Peter, Peter, Bullet Eater."
"See? Now you're rockin'!"
The creative juices weren't exactly flowing, but at least they dribbled. Leslie reached for her notebook, then scribbled the title. The sounds of a truck motor and tires digging into gravel outside the motorhome interrupted her notes.
Kat jumped from the seat. "Great. There's the Hupp Mobile."
"I'll give you two privacy and move outside." She gathered her periodicals, notebook, and pen, then scooted from the dinette.
"Hi, Leslie."
Rob stood outside the door, waiting as she stepped down from the motorhome. She gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"Hi, Rob. Kat made extra sandwiches if you're hungry."
"No, thanks. I brought my own." He held up a Wendy's sack. His other hand clutched a discount store bag, which probably held the pregnancy test.
She tried seeing Rob through her sister's eyes. About the same height and build as Gray, Rob had a perfect smile revealing perfect teeth. His perfect nose and sexy gray eyes framed by perfect thick eyebrows that matched his perfectly styled light brown hair gave him the appearance of ... well, perfection. She preferred Gray's uneven nose and tiny lines at the corners of his eyes. Though both men were hunks, Gray's minor flaws magnified his masculinity.
Waving Rob inside, Leslie gave herself a mental head-shake. To compare her brother-in-law to Gray was a waste of time. She may as well have been comparing Ben Affleck to Brad Pitt.
She heard the door close behind Rob, followed by the unmistakable click of the deadbolt, not that Leslie would have intruded. She settled at the picnic table, then jotted down notes and ideas. But her mind shifted to the man in site twelve. She hadn't seen him all afternoon, not since he'd run to catch his fiancée. In spite of her misgivings, she worried about him. His attack earlier had alarmed her. Did he have ulcers? He had claimed his pain was psychosomatic. What had he meant?
Before her brain overrode her impulse, she threaded her way through the brush to Gray's motorhome. After a second or two of hesitation, she knocked on the door. Gray pushed open the door with one hand while he rubbed at his hair with a beach towel.
"Leslie. Come in."
The vision of Gray's body flooded her senses. Her legs wouldn't budge. Speech deserted her. Staring, she took in his bare torso. She swallowed, fighting the impulse to run her hands through the dark hair that peppered his damp skin. Clenching her hands, she pulled her wayward gaze from the waistband of his gray sweat shorts.
Get a grip, Les!
"Leslie?" This time his voice seemed less steady. Hoarse. He cleared his throat. "Uh, I was just getting dressed."
Ignoring raw, masculine sex was impossible. "Maybe I'd better wait out here."
He motioned her inside. "No, I won't take long."
She stepped inside his motorhome, pulling the door closed behind
her. He hurried to the small bedroom in the rear of the coach. He returned a minute later tugging a pullover over his head.
"Sit down." He gestured toward the sofa. "It's warming up. I turned on the air conditioning."
It's definitely heating up, she thought, as he settled beside her on the couch. "I just wanted to see if you were all right."
"I'm fine." His mouth curved at one corner, forming a lopsided smile. "No cake injuries."
"I meant..." She covered her face with her hands, groaning. "Oh, Gray, what a horrible scene! I - I feel rotten."
"Listen." He pulled her hands away from her face, but didn't let go. "There's something I need to tell you."
She liked having him hold her hands, darn it. Nevertheless, she pulled them free from his grasp. "About what?"
"About Myra. Right before you came over with coffee, I'd had a disturbing conversation with her. I learned that she'd deceived me. Deceived my mother. It wasn't really a fight. I guess I was too stunned to fight."
"I see."
"What do you mean?"
"You were getting even by kissing me."
"No!"
Leslie jumped at his outburst. Then she remembered how ill he had been when she had arrived with the coffee. It wasn't her business what he and Myra had argued about, but his pain worried her. "Okay. You want to tell me about it?"
"Yeah." He sighed. "I really need to talk. But first understand this. I kissed you because I wanted to. It's between you and me. It has nothing to do with Myra, except that you make me forget there is a Myra."
"I think we'd do well to remember Myra." She met his misery-filled gaze and sighed. "So, talk."
"Remember I told you my mother practically hand-picked Myra for me?"
"You said your mom played matchmaker."
Gray nodded. "Mom really wanted me to have a wife and family. She worried that I'd become like ... well, like my dad. A workaholic. It made her so happy when Myra and I told her we were engaged."