by Liz Talley
He paused, fork halfway to his mouth. “Uh, sure.”
Proud that he resisted glancing at Addy, he slid from the stool and waited on Tara to pass. The blonde tossed a small wave over her shoulder. “’Bye, everyone. Nice to meet you.”
The women murmured polite responses while the boys, mouths full, waved.
Lucas followed Tara out. Once they reached the front porch, she turned and pressed her hands against Lucas’s chest. “I’m sorry we got interrupted.”
Lucas removed her hands, ignoring the narrowing of her eyes at his move. “I’m not. Look, Tara, I’m leaving in a few days and I don’t think it’s such a good idea to proceed with what you were about to suggest.”
“Why not? I’m not asking you for anything but a good time. I’m too old and too busy to beat around the bush, Lucas. I want you…with no strings attached.”
He curled his hands around hers, trying for friendly and not encouraging. “I appreciate your bluntness, but it’s not that easy.”
She cocked her head. “Is this about that woman in there?”
“In where?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. That Abby. I saw you looking at her.”
“Addy?”
“Yeah, whatever. Addy. Surely you’re not into her?” Her voice sounded incredulous.
“I’m not into anyone right now.” Now he out-and-out lied. He was “into” Addy…even if nothing would happen.
At that Tara smiled. “Are you gay?”
“No.”
“Then why would a healthy, single male turn down a little afternoon delight with a woman who wants nothing more than a ride on a cowboy? Unless you don’t find me attractive?” Her voice faded with the last question…as if she feared the answer.
“You’re a beautiful woman and I’m sure most men would punch me in the face for being so stupid as to not take you up on your very appealing offer, but…” He tried to finish the sentence, but couldn’t come up with a reason that didn’t sound, well, stupid. Maybe he should take her up on her offer. Nostrings-attached sex with a hungry woman. It was most men’s dream. Hell, a week ago, he’d already have her on her back, knees around his hips. But something inside him balked, and he listened to his gut on this one.
“Look, I’m not begging,” Tara said, pushing back from him. “Enjoy the spaghetti.”
“I’m sorry,” he began.
Tara turned, grabbed the front of his shirt and tugged his head down to hers. “You should be.”
It was a good kiss, soft then intense with a little tongue. Tara knew how to kiss and his mouth softened beneath hers, his body tightened in response.
She broke the kiss and smiled, satisfaction gleaming in her blue eyes. “Thought you should know what you’re missing, cowboy. ’Bye.”
Tara turned and tripped down the porch steps, her heels ratta-tatting a cadence of regret.
Lucas swiped a hand over his mouth, opened the door and walked back to the woman he wanted to kiss. Kissing Addy was something he didn’t want to miss.
A simple kiss and then he’d stop, but he couldn’t leave New Orleans without kissing Addy.
No regrets.
Chapter Ten
ADDY LAY THE BOOK across her chest and sighed. Sheriff Cade McGarrity was in the process of seducing uptight spinster Sophie, and Addy couldn’t stop picturing Lucas’s face on the tough facade of the fictional lawman.
Insanity felt very real at that moment.
She picked the book up, determined to put the man next door out of her mind, determined to enjoy the new story. Reading spicy romance was her secret addiction. Some women hid chocolate in their desk drawers, some wore lacy lingerie beneath their power suits, but Addy read about brooding knights, race-car drivers and steamboat captains with wicked smiles and big packages to satisfy the trembling young heroine. Something about passion on the page allowed the naughtiness, the wildness inside her to find a safe home. She had stacks of steamy romance in her bedside table and hundreds more in her Nook library.
Her eyes refocused on the story of the injured sheriff, taking refuge in the schoolmarm’s clapboard house, who was about to slip Miss Sophie out of her nightgown, but she couldn’t focus. Why did she keep imagining her and Lucas in place of Sophie and Cade? The past two nights it had been the same. She should have stuck with the damn sheikh. No way the world of harems and forbidden love could evoke images of the big man stomping around in cowboy boots feeding hamsters and cradling three-year-olds. Sheikh Omar Asseff was dark and cunning, a veritable satyr with smooth words and a big manhood.
So why had she traded swarthy and horny for a man in boots?
Oh, she knew why.
She was stupid.
And if she were honest, she’d admit she wanted to unbutton her own nightgown, shuck it off and show Lucas how much she wanted to act out all those scenes in the books she’d been reading. But she wouldn’t admit it. She didn’t want it to be real. It had been well over a year since she’d ended her last relationship. Wasn’t as if she didn’t want another, but not with a guy so wrong for her, a guy leaving in a few days’ time. She wasn’t the kind of girl to hook up with somebody for a booty call. She had never wanted to be that girl, even if a little piece inside her wished she were. So maybe reading any erotic romance wasn’t a good idea with Lucas next door, distracting her from what was about to go down in her life.
Stupid, Addy. You can’t afford to be distracted with a threat looming on the horizon. Get a grip, sister.
Addy snapped the cover closed.
Setting the book on the nightstand, she slid out of bed, not bothering to shove her bare feet into the fuzzy slippers sitting by the rocking chair. Maybe some chamomile tea would help her nod off.
Silently, she tiptoed past Aunt Flora’s room, where the flicker of the TV cast shadows on the wood floor, and down the stairway to the kitchen. Five minutes later the kettle chirped, and then with a steaming cup of tea in hand, Addy tucked her toes beneath her nightgown hem at the kitchen table. Moonlight streamed through the café curtains above the breakfast nook, casting a quiet glow. Silence, offset by the creaking of the settling house, blanketed Addy in calmness.
Just what she needed—a moment of peace.
She sighed.
Then heard whap, whap, whish coming from the side yard.
Rising, she peered over the curtains but couldn’t see. Climbing on the chair, she could just peek over the black smudge of bushes to see Michael standing in his driveway, tossing the basketball at the hoop affixed to the detached garage.
She should ignore him. Even if it was near midnight on a school night.
None of her business. Never before had she seen about the kids next door, so why was she sliding the dead bolt and slipping out the back door?
Without her pepper spray.
The night was crisp and the stars winked at her above. She crossed her arms, tucking her hands over her breasts so they didn’t pucker against the thin cotton nightgown. She glanced around, surveying the perimeter, but the night was calm and nonthreatening. Her inner safety alarm was silent.
“Michael?”
The boy turned, wiping tears from his cheeks. “Yeah?”
“What are you doing out here so late?” she shifted on her bare feet because the concrete pavers were ice-cold.
“Shooting hoops.” He turned and bounced the ball once, twice and then sent it arcing in the air. The accommodating swish had her lifting her brows. He might not be good at football, but he could hit a basket.
“It’s almost midnight.”
“So.”
She didn’t know what else to say. Pretty obvious he wasn’t getting the message. “It’s too late for basketball. People are trying to sleep.”
Two bounces and a swish later, he turned to her, taking in her long-sleeved gown and her chattering teeth. “Did I keep you awake?”
No, images of your uncle naked kept me awake.
“Uh, not really, but you have school tomorrow, and you shouldn’t be out
here unsupervised.”
Michael tucked the ball under his arm and looked disgusted. “Yeah, because I’m a baby, right? I needed a nanny. A babysitter. Gotta make sure I don’t shit my diaper and spill my milk.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
His answer was to turn and resume his relentless bounce-and-shoot rhythm, blocking her out. Pretending she wasn’t there.
“Michael.”
He missed the shot. Lurching toward the bouncing ball, he snagged it and turned to her with a sour frown. “What?”
“You need to go to bed.” She used her pissed-off tone.
His eyes narrowed and she could tell he struggled with what to say. “No.”
Addy frowned. Her feet were freezing, but no way would she let him get away with that. “I know you’re upset, but you’re being a brat.”
He turned from her, bouncing the ball, ignoring her.
Now she was even more pissed. Uncrossing her arms she lunged toward him and snatched the ball.
“Hey!” He looked at her now, anger crackling in his eyes, before he tucked it away and stepped back. “Fine. Sorry, Addy.”
Addy held the ball to her chest and raised her eyebrows. “You don’t sound all that sorry and you’re still carrying a huge grudge, kid. Don’t you know crap happens? Don’t you remember you can’t control everything?”
“Yeah, but knowing and feeling are two different things. My life is complicated.”
“Everyone’s life is complicated, Michael.”
“I know there are kids who have it worse than me, but I don’t even know how bad life is for me. No one will tell me anything. Don’t you understand? It’s hard to deal when you don’t even know what you’re dealing with.” He propped his hands on his hips, his breath puffing out into the cold.
Addy nodded. “I know how you feel.”
“Do you? Really?” His voice was heavy with disbelief. “I feel like I’m about to explode inside, and being in that house makes me feel like I can’t breathe.”
“I don’t know what to say, Michael. I don’t know how to help you. I wish I did. I wish there was a magic button we could hit to make everything clear, but this is life, not a game show. There aren’t good things behind secret curtains and there’s no strategy. It just is what it is.”
His shoulders sunk. “Yeah, it is what it is.”
“Did you talk to your uncle?”
Michael dropped his chin and shook his head. “I don’t want to talk to him. I want to talk to my dad.” His voice trembled and Addy wanted to pull the boy into her arms, but knew it would be inappropriate…and that Michael wouldn’t want her pity. Even at thirteen he seemed a rather proud boy.
“I know you do, Mike. I get it. Life sucks right now, but it won’t always. When life ricochets out of my control and I can’t get a grip, Aunt Flora tells me ‘This, too, shall pass.’ And it will. Things will get better.”
“Sure. I guess. Thanks, Addy,” he said, looking up and giving her a half smile, but she could see she hadn’t helped. He turned and Addy bounced the basketball toward him, tucking her hands back over her breasts. She watched him go, saw Lucas step out and place a hand on the boy’s shoulder.
She couldn’t hear their words and it looked as if all was taken care of, but she didn’t turn and leave. Instead she stood like a moron, craving Lucas, wanting to see him one more time before she slid into her lonely bed.
Pathetic.
She wasn’t too far from being Tara.
The woman had watched Lucas like a vulture sitting on a fence post the entire time they had sat in the kitchen. When Lucas had come back from walking her out, Addy could tell something had gone on. The man had a swipe of shimmery lip gloss on his upper lip and he’d worn the sort of look a man wore when he’d been thoroughly kissed. Something had shriveled inside her when she’d seen him mussed and perhaps turned on. She suspected it was the small bit of hope she’d nurtured that Lucas wanted her.
At that thought she willed herself to turn around and go back to her house.
“Addy,” Lucas called softly across the drive.
She turned her head. “Yes?”
He jogged toward her, wearing a worn pair of pajama bottoms, a white T-shirt that stretched deliciously across his broad chest and a pair of moccasin slippers. “Wait a sec.”
She turned fully toward him, trying to control her chattering teeth. “It’s cold. I don’t have shoes.”
“Yeah, a little chilly. Hey, I’m sorry Michael woke you.”
Her eyes came level with his chest. She didn’t lift them. She wasn’t sure if it was because she couldn’t look away from the muscled breadth or if she didn’t want him to see the desire in her gaze. “He didn’t. I had slipped down for some tea. Couldn’t sleep.”
“You, too, huh?”
She lifted her gaze, trying to control her chattering teeth.
“Jesus, you’re freezing,” he said, reaching out and rubbing her upper arms. “You need to get inside. Here, let me walk you.”
“You don’t have to.” But his hands felt wonderful on her arms. She longed to step into him, have him wrap his arms around her, but she didn’t want to look like she’d come out for a chance encounter with him. Didn’t want to come across Tara-like, ready to sink her claws into a cowboy.
Maybe she shouldn’t think so much. Maybe she shouldn’t try to control every aspect of her life. Why not invite him inside? Maybe it would lead to a kiss. She’d really like to kiss him. Or maybe it would lead to a cup of tea. Period. “Would you like a cup of tea?”
“I’d love some.”
She walked back to her aunt’s house, trying to rationalize her being a good neighbor. Wasn’t like inviting a man in his pajamas inside for tea was code for bend me over the breakfast table and do me. It was just tiny little leaves and scalding hot water. She needed to get a hold of herself…and her libido.
Damn book.
“I like the retro feel of your kitchen,” he commented, sinking onto a kitchen chair. He looked so large sitting at the small table. So male. So beautifully male.
“Thanks,” she said, turning the flame on under the kettle that still felt warm. She picked it up and poured water over the tea bag. The aroma bloomed up in a cloud of steam. “Sugar?”
He nodded so she scooped some into the cup, stirred and took it to him. Lucas took the cup, set it on the table and pulled Addy into his lap.
“Oh,” she exclaimed, grabbing his shoulders so she didn’t tumble onto the floor.
“You know, I didn’t really come in for tea.” His voice was low and very sexy.
Pleasure joined the conga line of hunger and desire dancing in her belly. “You didn’t?”
She leaned a little closer, inhaling his scent. He smelled so good. Like woodsy cologne mixed with a wonderful maleness no one could bottle. Just a warm, clean yummy smell that made Addy want to nestle her head into his shoulder to draw in more of him.
He slid his hands up her sides, making goose bumps sprout on her arms. “Drinking tea was an excuse to come inside and warm you up. Just being neighborly and all.”
“Just like you were being neighborly with Tara earlier? ’Cause I could have sworn you warmed her up, too.” Damn it. She closed her eyes, admonishing herself for playing the jealous idiot. Who said stuff like that? Insecure little girls. That was who.
“Tara?”
She opened her eyes and saw his smile. He teased her. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Not well done of me.”
His arms closed around her, pulling her tighter to him, warming the cool flesh beneath the thin nightgown. “I’m not interested in Sheldon’s mom, but I like you’re jealous. Tells me what I want to know.”
She arched an eyebrow, trying for cool but knowing she failed. She was a hot mess of insecurity and trembling horny woman. Not a good combination in a moonlit kitchen. After midnight. With a cowboy in pajama pants. The intimacy of hard male beneath the worn, thin flannel did funny things to her…dangerous t
hings. “What’s that?”
“You want me.” He slid one arm between her shoulder blades and cupped the back of her head, bringing it down toward him.
Addy let him because he was right. She wanted him. Maybe she had some residual horniness from reading about Sophie and Cade getting it on. Or maybe it had been too long since she’d had a man hold her, care about warming her up. Or maybe ever since she’d laid eyes on Lucas Finlay she’d wanted to also lay her hands on him.
Didn’t matter because at that moment she didn’t care about why. She cared only that he touched her.
Resting her hands to his shoulders, she tilted her head and settled her lips against his, tasting him for the first time.
Wonderful liquid heat poured into her as he slid his free hand up her rib cage, grazing her breast, to cup her jaw and tangle his fingers in her loose hair as he coaxed her mouth open, sliding his tongue against hers, making her sink into him.
After several seconds, Lucas pulled back, breaking the kiss. He leaned his forehead against her chin and sighed. “Just as I imagined.”
“What?” she whispered, inhaling the scent of masculine shampoo and something uniquely Lucas.
He tilted his head back so he could look her in the eye and his dark eyes twinkled. “You taste like mountain rain.”
“How does that taste?”
He laughed low in his throat and pulled her lips back down to his. And then he kissed her again. And again. And again.
By the time the kettle whistled, Addy nearly straddled Lucas, her gown bunched around her thighs, her breathing out of control. The man devoured her, his hands roaming, hot against the thin cotton of her nightgown, cupping her bottom, teasingly brushing the side of her breast, and never leaving her body for a second.
His touch was more delicious than mountain rain, better than expensive chocolate…better than the first bloom of her great-grandmother’s Peace rose.
“The kettle,” she murmured, dropping her head back as he kissed his way down her neck to the eyelet trim lining the square neck of the gown.