Nope, he was going to stand right there and watch the Bud sign behind the bar. That was all. He was going tofinish his beer then go home. If Buddy didn't want to leave, he could catch a ride with someone else.
As the band struck up Kenny Chesney's "No Problem," Buddy and Lily joined Jack at the bar. Just as he turnedto tell Buddy he was leaving in a few, his gaze landed on Daisy and Tucker walking toward him. The closer shegot, the more he wished she'd just stayed the hell across the room. She wore some sort of dark smudged stuffaround her eyes, her lips were a dark red, and her hair was big and curled and wild, like she'd just got laid. Shelooked a little smutty, which normally was his favorite, but not tonight. Not on her.
"Hey there, Jack." Tucker offered his hand. "How's it goin'?"
Jack shook it, then raised his beer to his mouth. "I can't really complain," he said just before he took a drink.
"How's your hand?" he asked Daisy.
She made a slow fist. "It's better than it was yesterday," she said.
"I heard about you and Lily getting into a fight with Ronnie Darlington and Kelly Newman," Tucker told her.
"Ronnie's a rat bastard and Kelly's a skank," Lily said.
"Where did you hear about it?" Daisy wanted to know.
"Fuzzy Wallace was driving by on Vine and saw you two."
Daisy closed her eyes and swore.
Jack's gaze slid from her face, and he got a good look at that white dress. He could see the outline of her bra,and she must have been tan all over, because he could see the straps and the smooth edges cupping her breastsand pushing them up. His gaze slid over the little row of snaps closing the dress over herbreasts, down her flat abdomen to the belt around her waist and that big silver buckle suspended right above hergoodie box. The bottom of her dress hit her just about mid thighs, and when he glanced at her feet, he aboutchoked. She was wearing red boots with white hearts. He remembered those boots. She used to wear them allthe time. There'd been several times when he'd made love to her while she'd been wearing those boots. Usuallywhen she wore a skirt, or a dress like she was wearing tonight, he'd just slip her panties off and not bother withthe boots.
"If you have any more trouble, give me a call," Tucker offered, and Jack looked up as Tucker slipped his armaround her shoulders.
"Okay, I'll remember that," she said. She stepped forward and grabbed Jack's hand. "Jack promised he'd dancewith me." She looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Didn't you?"
"Did I?"
"Yes."
He figured he had two options. He could leave her to Tucker or dance with her. He set his beer on the bar andslid his hand up her wrist to her elbow. "I guess I have a bad memory" he said. He took her arm and led heracross the room.
The band broke into a slow smoky rendition of the Georgia Satellite's "Keep Your Hands to Yourself." Jackstopped in the middle of the dance floor and placed Daisy's palm against his. He placed his other hand on herwaist and moved with her to the beat of the music. Through her thin dress, he felt the warmth of her skin. "Yougoing home with Coach?"
"He asked me." She set her hand lightly on his shoulder. "But no."
Her answer pleased him more than it should have, and he didn't like that one bit.
"I don't know where he got the idea that I'd actually consider it."
They moved past the stage and pink light shined in her hair, slid over her smooth forehead and cheeks, anddipped between her softly parted lips. "Maybe because your dress is so tight."
"It's not that tight."
He spun her then pulled her closer without missing a step. An inch of empty space separated her breasts fromhis chest, and he told himself that he held her there so he could hear her better. He brushed his thumb across thesoft material of her dress and said just above her ear, "It's so fight, I can see the outline of your bra."
"Why are you staring at my bra, Jack?"
"Bored I guess."
"Uh-huh." She pulled far enough back to look up into his face. "You're trying to imagine what I look likenaked."
He smiled as the band sang true love and sin.
"Buttercup, I know what you look like naked."
Within the dark shadows of the dance floor, she blushed. A pink flush that rose up her throat to her cheeks.
"Funny, I don't remember what you look like naked." Her eyes stared into his for less than a second before hergaze slid away and she focused on something beyond his shoulder.
She'd always been a bad liar. He didn't remember it ever bothering him before. For some reason, it did now.
"Did you know I was going to be here?" he asked her.
She returned her gaze to his. "No," she answered and he didn't know if he believed her. "Are you going to behome tomorrow?"
"Why?"
"Because I'm coming over."
He stared down into her face, with her sexy-as-hell eye makeup and full lips. "I don't remember inviting you."
"You just said you have a bad memory."
"Perhaps for some things. Other things I'm real clear about. Like I remember those boots."
She smiled and her hand slid to the back of his shoulder. "I know," she said. "I can't believe they still fit.
Remember when I used to wear them with my purple Wranglers?"
Purple Wranglers? He spun her a few times and hoped she got dizzy. While he'd been thinking about her braand couldn't get rid of the memory of those boots up around his ears, all she could think about was shit he didn'tcare about and didn't want to discuss.
He brought her back close to his chest and she said, "And remember the hot-pink prairie skirt? Lord what afashion nightmare."
Prairie Skirt? What the hell? Just for that, he should spin her until she puked. She was talking about stupid shiton purpose, just to make him insane. As if she wasn't thinking of hot sweaty sex, too. As if the sexual desirebetween them was all in his own head, when he knew, he just knew she had to feel it too. "Ah yes, the hot-pinkprairie skirt," he said even though he wasn't even sure what a prairie skirt was. He brought her so close, herbreasts brushed his chest, then he said, "I remember how it looked shoved up around your waist."
Her steps faltered as she pulled back and looked up at him. She licked the corners of her mouth. "I don't want totalk about sex."
Usually, he didn't either. Usually he was more of a doer than a talker. "Too bad." He slid his hand from herwaist to the small of her back. "You want to talk to me, I get to pick the subject."
"There are more important things in life than sex."
He supposed that was true, but at the moment he couldn't think of anything. "Name one."
"Friendship."
"Right," he scoffed. "Spoken just like a girl."
"No, spoken like an adult."
Now she was really pissing him off. Until she'd blown back into town, he'd moved on with his life. He'd takenon a big dose of adulthood at an early age. He'd finished raising his brother and had single-handedly rescued thebusiness after his father's death. Now, here she was, in her red boots and white dress, digging it all up again.
"Sex was a big part of our past, Daisy, but you don't seem to want to talk about that."
"It wasn't that big a part, Jack."
"Bullshit."
The song ended and she stepped back from him. "Maybe for you. But it wasn't that big a part for me," she said,then turned on the heels of those red boots and walked away.
* * *
Daisy tucked her chin and headed for the lady's room. Once inside, she wet a paper towel and pressed it to hercheeks. Her heart pounded in her throat and she looked at herself in the long mirror above the sink. Her eyesshined a hale too bright. Her face was a little too flushed. Her skin was ultra sensitive, every cell responding toJack's touch. He'd pulled her hard against him, and it had felt so good to feel the wall of his chest pressedagainst her breasts. It was a dang good thing she was leaving soon, because Jack reminded her of things betterleft forgotten. Like just how long it had been since she'd been with a man, and what it was li
ke to feel the rawache of lust, hot and vital, tugging at her breasts and between her thighs. And it wasn't just his talking about sex,it was him. It was the touch of his hands, his thumb brushing her waist, the deep timbre of his voice in her ear,and the smell of his skin. She was afraid if the song hadn't ended when it did, she would have combusted rightthere in the middle of the dance floor.
A woman in a T-shirt with black fringe joined her at the sink and she scooted over to make room. "It's really hotout there," she said as a way to explain her flushed cheeks.
"A little."
Daisy tossed the paper towels in the trash and opened the door.
Jack stood with one shoulder against the opposite wall, and when he saw her he straightened. "When are yougoing home, Daisy?" he asked and stepped in front of her.
She looked beyond his left shoulder toward the crowded bar. "When Lily is ready to leave."
There was a hard edge to his voice when he clarified, "When are you going home to Seattle?"
His lids were lowered over his green eyes as he looked down at her. She took a few steps backward so shewouldn't have to strain her neck looking up. "Sunday."
He followed. "Day after tomorrow, then?"
"Yes."
"Good."
"That's why we have to talk tomorrow." She took another step back.
Again he followed. "Because you want to be friends and chat about the past."
"Among other things." Her shoulders hit the back door and he reached beside her right hip and turned the knob.
The door opened and he forced her outside. The warm breeze touched her face and neck and picked up the endsof her hair. He let go of the door and it slammed shut behind them.
The light above the door shined through his hair and lit up his green eyes and his knowing smile. "You don'twant to talk any more than I do."
"Yes, I do."
She moved away from him and somehow ended up pressed against the wood shingle siding of Slim's. Theystood within the deep shadows of the building and a big blue Dumpster. Thank goodness the bar didn't servefood, and the only smell coming from the closed Dumpster was stale beer and dust.
Jack planted one hand on the building beside her head, trapping her between him and the Dumpster.
"You always were a bad liar." He lowered his mouth to hers and said just above a whisper, "You can deny it allnight, but I know what you want, Daisy."
She put her hands on his chest to stop him and instantly knew it was a mistake. Through the soft denim of hisshirt and the hard muscles of his chest, she could feel the strong beating of his heart. It warmed her palms andspiked her blood pressure at her wrists. She turned her face to the side so she could breathe, but she couldn'tquite bring herself to lower her hands. Not just yet." I don't think you do."
He placed his fingers on her jaw and gently turned her face back to him. "You want me to take you home, ortake you to the backseat of my car, or take you right here against this wall." His lips touched hers, and herbreath caught in her throat. "Just like old times."
Her finger curled into his shirt and she held on.
Oh, yes. She wanted that very much, but she wanted chocolate cake every day too. 'That would be bad, Jack."
"No, Daisy. That would be good."
For one brief second, it occurred to her that she'd had the same thought not long ago. Then his lips brushed hersand she shuddered. She couldn't help it. Neither could she seem to help what followed. Her palms slid up hischest, over his shoulder, then back down to his flat stomach and the waistband of his jeans. His face was soclose, his nose touched hers. She couldn't see his eyes dearly, but she could feel his hot gaze on her. Then hekissed her. A gentle press of his lips that she felt in the backs of her knees and the soles of her feet. She openedher mouth beneath his and his tongue touched hers, warm and wet and that's all it took to trip her senses intooverload. Heat and need and greed rushed through her, too much, too fast, and she couldn't stop it. All she coulddo was hold on.
His pectoral muscles bunched as she slid her hands back up his chest to his shoulders. He fed her passionateopen-mouthed kisses, and she devoured them, kissing him back. Undiluted lust twisted her stomach into knotsand burned her up inside, urging her to touch as much of him as possible. To eat him up and worry about itlater. He tasted so good. Like a warm healthy man. The kiss turned wild as she moved her hands over hisshoulders and back, ran her fingers through his cool hair, and unfastened the pearl buttons on the front of hisshirt.
He pulled back and looked into her face, his breathing hard and fast as if he'd just jogged five miles. "Daisy," hewhispered and buried his face in the side of her neck. A deep moan vibrated his chest, and he slid his openmouth to the side of her throat. His hand slipped to her waist then over her belt around her hips. His fingerspulled up the bottom of her dress. His bare hand touched the top of her thigh, and slid to her behind, cuppingher through the thin layer of her silk panties.
"Someone might see us," she warned, her voice a thin, lame protest.
He pulled her to her toes and his voice was a husky rasp when he asked, "Would you care?"
She guessed not because she pulled the front of his shirt wide and placed her palms on his flat stomach. His skinwas hot to the touch and slightly damp, a toxic sheen of desire and testosterone that seeped through herfingertips, traveled up her arms and went straight to her head. His warm wet mouth sucked the hollow of herthroat and her eyes drifted shut. It had been so long since she'd felt the push and pull of sex. The feverish rushand carnal ache. She felt it now, tugging her under until everything else was a blur.
He coaxed her leg around his waist, and the hard ridge of his erection pressed into her crotch, through the layersof his clothes and her thin panties. He grabbed her other thigh and lifted her up the wall until both her legswrapped around his waist. Until his heated gaze met hers, then he shoved his pelvis against her.
"It's been so long," she moaned.
With his free hand, he popped the snaps down the front of her dress. His gaze held hers as he asked, "Howlong?" The backs of his fingers touched the swells of her breasts, the satin of her bra, and her cleavage. Thebodice of her dress fell open and he lowered his gaze to her demi bra. Without looking up, he asked again,"How long has it been for you, Daisy?"
Every sensation in her body seemed to radiate outward from where their bodies touched. She ran her handsacross his naked chest and combed her fingers through the short dark hair. "What?"
"How long has it been since you've had sex?"
She hadn't meant to make that particular confession out loud. "Awhile."
He pushed his palm flat against her breast. "How long's awhile?"
It was too late to take it back now. "Two years."
His fingers pressed into her flesh that rose above her bra. "We can't take this any further right here."
She moaned low in her throat and squeezed her thighs tighter. His knees buckled and he planted his hands onthe side of the building by her head to keep them from falling. He moved his feet farther apart and brought hiserection hard against her.
"I don't have a condom on me or in my car." He kissed her forehead. "Come home with me, Daisy."
It had been so long since she'd had to worry about condoms. Not since before she and Steven had tried to haveanother child and discovered that he couldn't. A long time since she'd had to worry about pregnancy or anythingelse. Over fifteen years since she'd been with anyone but Steven. With the last rational part of her brain, sheknew she couldn't do this. Not with Jack. Not here. Not at his house. Not anywhere. "I can't do this with you,"
she said before she made the second biggest mistake of her life.
He kissed the side of her neck. "Sure you can."
"No, Jack." She lowered her feet to the ground and dropped her hands to her sides. "I'm not going to have sexwith you."
He took a step back into the gold pool of light from the building and ran his fingers through the sides of his hair.
He closed his eyes and pul
led air deep into his lungs. "God damn you, Daisy," he said, his voice a rasp of lustand anger. "You're still as big a tease as you ever were."
"I didn't come here to tease you or have sex with you." His naked chest was too dose, and the light from thebuilding shined across his moist skin. She pressed her palms against the building behind her and fought the urgeto reach out and touch him. To push her face to his chest and lick him like a Dreamsicle. She raised her gaze tohis face. "I told you why I'm here."
He looked at her, his green eyes glittered with frustration. "You still think we can talk?"
"No, not tonight."
"That's what I thought," he said as he wiped her red lipstick from the corner of his mouth.
"Tomorrow."
He laughed without humor. "Daisy, if you show up at my house tomorrow, I'm going to give you what youreally want," he said evenly as he buttoned his shirt. "Guaran-Goddamn-teed."
She frowned and didn't have to ask what he was talking about.
He told her anyway. "I'm going to fuck you till you faint," he said, then he turned and walked away.
She watched him leave, his broad shoulders disappearing as he moved down the side of the building toward thefront. Within seconds, darkness swallowed him up and all she could hear was the thud of his boots and the humof insects. She knew she should be outraged. Disgusted. Horrified. Relieved that she'd come to her sensesbefore they'd had sex. Yes, she knew she should feel all those things, and maybe she would tomorrow. Buttonight... tonight she felt none of those things. Beyond frustration, with lust pounding though her veins, she wasmore curious than anything. Was it possible to have sex until you fainted?
And if so, did Jack know from experience?
Chapter Nine
That night, Daisy dreamed she flew around Lovett in nothing but her shorty pajamas, over the tops of the treesand power poles. Mount Rainier suddenly rose up out of the flat Texas panhandle, and she flew over that too.
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