I nodded and followed him to the door. “Thanks.”
“In the meantime, if you have any more problems with vandals, give me a call.” He winked and wiggled his furry, white eyebrows as he adjusted one strap of his overalls. “I got me a prescription for them Viagra pills you see on the TV.” He leaned in. “I’d be happy to let you give ’em a test drive.”
I glanced at Hope who nudged me. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
We followed him out the door.
My stomach had been growling for a good half hour. I could have almost eaten the dirt out of the potted flowers on the front walk.
I followed Hope into the diner. She stopped and stared at the empty room as I came to stand beside her.
“Grace, if the food is supposed to be so good, where are all the customers?”
I couldn’t deny her logic. The only sound other than her voice was the loose bell still jingling over the door. “I never said it had good food. I said it had food.”
“The sign on the front said best food in town.”
I hadn’t noticed anything about the exterior beyond the door. I shrugged. “Well, I guess if the sign says it, it must be true.”
She rolled her eyes and turned a full spin. “Where do you want to sit?”
“I don’t care. You pick.” A picture on the wall of the diner as the building once looked caught my eye, and I stayed put to investigate while she wandered over to a red leather coated booth.
The photo wasn't dated but showed the destruction of the diner and the two buildings attached to it. A fourth building, the bank Jamie had spoken of, remained untouched.
I pretended to be engrossed even as Blane bounded through a swinging door ,then stopped mid-step. After allowing his gaze to rake up and down my body, he came around the counter and walked toward me with a wolfish smile. In three easy strides, he invaded every inch of my personal space. With his chest pressed against my back, he used his chin to nudge my hair back. “Say you're free tonight.”
A shiver skittered over my skin. I tilted my head and turned, leaning back against the wall. “I have my little sister here.”
He flipped a glance her way, then moved closer, aligning our bodies. “She looks old enough to babysit herself.”
I shook my head. “I don't know. She’s good at finding trouble wherever it lurks.”
With a hand on each of my hips, he tugged me closer. “Family trait? Something in your DNA?”
“You can see why I feel the almost constant need to watch over her.” My fingers, without any communication from the last two brain cells working for me, crept up his chest to rest on his shoulders.
He batted a pair of eyelashes that I would have been happy to have. “Live a little, counselor. Let her live a little too.”
I did my fair share of that before arriving in Texas, but tilted my head and shot him my come-get-me smile. “Suppose I say yes. What's your plan? I mean, it would have to be pretty good to convince me to leave Hope home alone.” Oh, who was I kidding? He could have planned to take me to a state execution. As long as he wore that cologne and nuzzled into my body, I would be there.
With his lips touching my ear and a voice designed to seduce, he said, “Oh, I promise. It’ll be the kind of good that ruins you for other men.”
“What about my client?” I wanted to smack the Good Grace right out of me as she used my mouth to speak. I ended the sentence on a frown.
He chuckled. “Well, bringing her along would be kind of awkward, since I'm prosecuting her, but if you insist and it's the only way I can get a date, I guess she can ride in the back.”
I glanced from his smile to my sister. Blane's mother stood at the edge of the booth, her back to us, chatting with Hope. “I suppose if she doesn't mind going it alone tonight, I could skip out for a few hours.”
He grinned and my heart palpitated. My skin tingled where his breath brushed against it. “I'll pick you up at eight.” He lowered his head once more, and this time, instead of a fleeting taste of my lips, he went in full force, tangling his tongue with mine, holding the back of my head, grinding into my hips. He pulled away, leaned his forehead against mine, and smiled. “You better get back to your sister before my mom tries to adopt her.”
I forced my breath to come in a normal slow pull in, easy push out rhythm, but my heart pounded in my ears, out of control. The man could kiss like a god and I staggered through the mish-mash of table placement to the booth Hope parked us in.
She shot me a knowing glance.
Blane’s mother looked at me, a mixture of surprise and something I couldn’t define written in her wide gaze and the thin line of her lips. She turned back to Hope and said, “I’ll see you tonight then? At six?”
Hope grinned. “Thank you so much.”
My little sister’s smile beamed off her face in a ray of joy so bright my own lips turned up as I waited for her to share her news. “I got a job.”
I patted her hand. “Aw, Hope. I’m proud of you.”
“Now, you can’t send me home.” She sipped from a tall glass of lemonade.
“I wasn’t going to send you home.” At least, not unless Daddy commanded it.
“I was thinking. Maybe I could register for a couple of classes here.” Excitement bubbled up in her voice and erupted in an inspired teenaged squeak.
“That’s a good plan.”
She yammered on and on until I tuned her out in favor of staring at Blane behind the counter. He looked up and I pretended to be engrossed in reading the carvings on the table. Initials, sayings, love poems scarred the wood surface and a thick coating of sealer protected the professions of undying commitment. After a moment, I sat captivated, reading them one after another. VC+BS=4EVER… DAVE LOVES TARA… BE MINE KENDRA
“Did you hear me, Grace?” Hope reached across the table to snap her fingers in front of my face.
I blinked twice and looked up. “What?”
“I said we should order.”
“Yeah.” Blane stood at the edge of our booth, pen poised over a waiter’s pad.
“Just a salad.” My stomach rumbled. “And a burger with everything.” Another low grumble shook me from the inside out. “And chili cheese fries with extra cheese.” He chuckled and I finished with a weak, “And a strawberry shake.”
Hope ordered a chicken wrap and Blane walked away, shaking his head.
* * * *
When I turned fourteen, Dad sat me down and warned me about the dangers of riding in cars with boys. Ten minutes after I’d convinced him of my finely honed listening skills, my sister, Charity, guarded the bedroom door while I snuck out the window, crossed the street, and hopped into Carson O’Hara’s Firebird.
Now, sitting in Blane’s convertible, the wind in my hair and his hand on my knee, Dad’s words came rushing back. Keeping true to history, I tuned it out with a grin at Blane.
“Where are we going?”
All I’d managed to get out of him, as far as details, was what I should wear. Comfortable. Since I doubted he’d be as attracted to me in my old sweats and Bon Jovi T-shirt, I chose a loose skirt and a silky, sleeveless blouse.
“Movie.” He pulled into the drive-in, wheeled around the rows to the back of the lot, and parked, leaving lines and lines of empty space in front of us.
I cocked my head to the side as he tuned the radio and sound, matching the action on the screen warbled through his radio speakers. “A drive in?” With a popcorn box dancing alongside a soda cup on the screen.
He grinned. “We can chat without disturbing anyone, and if we have one of those awkward silent moments, we can pretend the movie caught our attention.” He pushed a button on the dash and the top fit itself back into place. “And now, we have privacy we wouldn’t have in a theater.”
“And why do we need that kind of privacy? Feeling lucky?”
He leaned in close enough his breath warmed my skin as he cupped my cheek, then drew me even closer. “I
hope so.” His lips brushed mine, soft, slow, the kind of kiss filled with promises of sex, before he drew back and grinned. “I like you, Grace Wade.” He tangled his fingers in my hair, anchoring me to him. My heart pounded. All thought of anything but Blane, his hands, his mouth, the low groan rumbling in his chest, left me.
After a few intense minutes, he pulled away, slid his seat back, and lifted me sideways onto his lap with my knees bent over the console. I didn’t have time to consider how quick this was moving or that his hand had crept fully up my skirt to stroke my hip. Instead, I concentrated on the sensations of his skin caressing me, his tongue teasing mine.
He slid his fingers across my stomach, then fanned them across the tops of my thighs, nudging them apart as he moved to nip at my neck. Powerless to do more than moan, I leaned into his touch and spread my legs, silently begging him to go farther.
As he moved my panties to the side, his phone rang through his car speakers. “Shit. Ignore it.” He captured my mouth with his once more as he used his fingers to work magic on my body. Desire pooled in my stomach and I pressed closer.
He slid his other hand from my hair down my spine and up the back of my shirt to unhook my bra. Without breaking contact, he reclined the seat until it lay flat.
“Take those off,” he commanded, half panting as he unfastened his jeans, then rolled on a condom. With my back against the door, I shimmied out of my panties, the sheer naughtiness of the moment hurrying me along.
“Come here.” He lifted me into position so I hovered above him. With a handful of each side of my shirt, he yanked, sending the plastic buttons clinking against the window and console. He pushed the fabric away and tossed my bra to the backseat.
“Get it in there, baby.” He sat up, his teeth closing around my nipple. A bolt of pleasure/pain rushed through me as I slid down the hard length of him.
He tore his mouth away before scooting up the backrest. With a hand in the center of my chest, he pushed me against the steering wheel. “Oh my God,” he moaned as I lifted myself, then moved down again.
I’d only repeated the move a few times, was just getting into the groove, when he threw his head back and cried out. His hips bucked twice, then he threw an arm over his eyes.
With a chuckle, he sat up and hugged me close. “That was”--over too quick--“amazing, but I’m kind of cramped here, babe.”
I snapped my gaping mouth shut, snatched my bra off the backseat headrest, and climbed over to my own side. His phone rang again, and this time he answered while I fumbled with the clasp, then shrugged into my shirt.
“Well, what’s he gonna find?” His voice low, he turned toward the window, then snapped his jeans and turned to me. “I’ll be right back.” He stepped out of the car and headed off to the concession stand.
After twenty-five minutes, leaving me alone to fume with a destroyed blouse and a cartoon movie playing in front of me, he returned. “Hey, babe, I have to cut our date short.”
“Date? That’s a generous description, babe.” Didn’t date mean more than a quickie in his car?
He jerked his wide-eyed gaze to me. “Are you upset?” My cheek tingled as he trailed his finger down it. “I’ll make it up to you. Tomorrow night is all about you. I’ll leave my phone at home.”
I cocked my head to the side, feeling more than a little used. And a lot disappointed. “What if I have plans?”
“You’ll break them.” Smug. Arrogant…sexy, hot. The car purred to life and he maneuvered to the exit.
“You think so?” I couldn’t control the angry bite to the words, so I didn’t bother trying to soften the question. Something in his playful gaze, the smile on his lips, and the finger pushing my hair back from my face melted my frustration.
“For a full body massage and a happy ending that will ruin you for all other men.” He nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”
If tonight’s performance was the yardstick by which I should measure his promise, I highly doubted other men had anything to worry about. Of course, I was the one sitting in the seat, rethinking the speed with which we’d moved. After all these years, what had I learned? Not much.
And the mental berating began. Was I so desperate to be accepted in a town that already hated me I would sleep with an almost stranger who seemed to accept me, no questions asked? I shuddered at the thought. Aside from being as handsome as he was in need of a little blue pill, the town seemed to love him. Maybe, somewhere in my sub-conscious, I thought if they liked him and he picked me, they would like me too.
I turned to the window, unable to look at him while I mentally dissected my own behavior.
“I know you’re disappointed we have to end our night this soon. I am too, and I will make it up to you. I promise.” He twined his fingers through mine and gave a little squeeze. “Give me another chance. I think this thing between us is worth checking out, and I mean it. Tomorrow night is all about you. No phone. No distractions.” His voice ended on a soft note that could have been sincerity. “I mean it. No phone.”
Phone? He’d said it twice. Never mind leaving me hanging after getting my motor revved up, then letting me idle while he zipped across the finish line. And, in a cocky move that should have me kicking his ass, he’d brought me to a kiddie movie. Instead of noticing more than how good he looked, how perfect he smelled, I’d jumped on top of him like I pro-rated by the hour. But I’d jumped on without so much as an ounce of force. Half the blame belonged on my shoulders. Shit.
I turned to face him. “You owe me a shirt.” But I smiled, unsure as to why I’d given in other than to appease my own sluttiness. Shame rolled around in my stomach. At some point, a lucky therapist would get her hands on me and force me to examine all my motives and behaviors. That would have to wait, though. At this moment, all I cared about was the smile half lighting his face.
“I’ll buy you ten shirts.” He puffed out his lower lip. “Forgive me? Please?”
“Okay, but I’d like to get to know you before I jump back into your bed. Or car seat.” It was a small compromise to ease my conscience. I liked most of what I’d seen in him and had a moderate amount of time invested already. Giving him another chance made sense.
He chuckled and pressed a kiss against the back of my hand before drawing the tip of my index finger into his mouth. “I have no secrets, beautiful. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. All you have to do is ask.”
Thousands of dollars of expensive education and years of training to ask the right question blew to pieces as he nibbled the pad of my index finger. I couldn’t form a single word. “Mmm.”
“Is that a question?”
“I’m gonna go in and make a list.”
He pulled up in front of my building. “Whatever makes you happiest.”
I popped the door open and held my shirt closed as I stepped onto the sidewalk, not sure I could handle any more hormonal ups and downs. Before I could turn to wave, he zoomed away.
Chapter 8
After a night spent punching my pillow into submission and tossing and knotting my blankets into a tangle, I trudged out to the kitchen at dawn to make a pot of coffee.
Hope had strolled in after my second cold shower last night and fell right to sleep on the couch. Now she turned over groggily, eyeing me through her one open eye as I tapped my cup against the counter. “What’s your problem, Grace?”
Replaying the previous night’s events, I shook my head. “Remember when Daddy said boys were bad?”
She nodded.
“He’s right.”
Of course, he was right. He was always right. Had it not been a hair later than five a.m., I would have picked up the phone and apologized for not listening to him.
Hope padded across the floor and yanked out a chair. “Pour me a cup, would ya?”
I rolled my eyes. “By all means. Let me serve you.”
“God. You’re in a crappy mood. Don’t take it out on me.”
Her drink sloshed
over the side of the cup, burning the side of my hand. Guilt washed over me as I considered her observation. “Sorry. How was work?”
She brightened as though she’d been up for hours dying to share her news. “It was great even though I messed up a lot of orders and spilled enough drinks that Jamie ended up carrying most of them out for me.” She slanted a glance at me. “He’s super nice. And that accent is dreamy, isn’t it?”
I nodded, a bad feeling settling in my stomach, warring with my lack of sleep and too strong coffee.
“Did you know he works all day, then helps his mom at the diner in the evening?”
I plopped into a chair, cradling my steaming mug as though it held precious, life-saving medicine. “He’s too old for you, Hope.” I sounded more like our dad every day and, dammit, it added to my frustration.
She shrugged a shoulder. “Not for you.” She almost succeeded in hiding her grin behind a sip of coffee.
I shook my head and tapped my finger on the table. “Thanks, but one Sheperd man in my life is quite enough.” The bitter taste puckering my lips had nothing to do with my coffee.
“Bad night with bachelor number one?”
I took a big swig to keep from spilling all the details to a sister too young to be a confidante. “Something like that.”
“Well, those hickeys on your neck say otherwise.” She clucked her tongue. “What would daddy say?”
Hickeys? Seriously? Heat trailed to my cheeks and out the ends of my hair. I ran to the bathroom and checked the mirror. Sure enough. Three dark red blotches colored the left side of my throat. “Son of a bitch.” I rubbed at the marks, wishing my hands were some sort of magic eraser.
“Why are you so freaked out? No one’s going to yell at you. You’re not a kid anymore.”
“That’s the point, Hope. I’m not some reckless teenager who can walk around with love bites winking at people from my neck. I’m a professional, grown-ass woman.”
“With a couple hickeys. It’s not the end of the world.”
Falling Grace Page 6