“I’m not finished here.” She pushed his hands off and stumbled back to her seat.
“Yeah, you are.”
The spinning of the room began with the shake of her head but continued long after she quit moving. “But you aren’t. You’re on a date, which is really funny since you spent last night trying to get into my pants.”
Alexandra gasped and clutched her purse.
“Ooh. She’s going for her Bible, Jess. We’re about to get a lecture.” She looked over her shoulder at Hank. “Quick. I need a pen. I should take notes if I’m about to get schooled in Godly behavior.” Her head toggled from shoulder to shoulder as though her neck could no longer hold it up. “Maybe I’ll just write a dirty limerick. Oh, hell. It could go either way.”
Jesse turned to Alexandra, smiled kindly down at her and spoke words too soft for Ryhan to hear. Ryhan turned back toward the bar and lowered her head to her fist. Had the room not decided to go for another whirl, she would have stood and begun the walk home. Instead, she closed her eyes to stop the walls from merry-go-round spinning.
Jesse dropped some money on the smooth-lacquered wood in front of her. “I’ll be back for her in ten minutes.”
Her gaze followed him to the door, the shift of his jeans against his ass with each step, the way his fingers cradled the small of Alex’s back, the graceful strides of his long legs. But mostly, she stared at his ass. “Wow.”
Quietly she sat, focused on nothing more than making the room stop its slow roll so her stomach could follow suit. She breathed in deep long breaths through her nose, blowing them out her mouth. When she was almost certain she could keep the wobbling to a manageable minimum, she stood. “Hank, did I pay you?”
“Your boyfriend took care of it.”
She shook her head slowly. “Oh, he’s not my boyfriend. He’s just another guy in a long”—her arms waved out on each side—“long line of guys who believe I’m that girl.”
“Which girl?”
“Not the one you’d take home to momma.”
“I’ll take you home to my momma anytime. You just say when.” Jesse’s hands at her waist steadied her when his voice startled her and she jumped.
She twisted away too hard and teetered into the edge of the bar. “Go on, Jess. I got this.”
“You do, huh?”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“For tonight, you do.” He reached out a hand, taking hers, gently pulling her forward. “I’ll call Lana for you. Just let me take you home.”
She focused on the image of him in the middle of the three her mind conjured and nodded. “Okay, but don’t call Lana.” She poked a finger into his chest. “You know what? I just don’t have it in me to fight your hotness anymore. So, I’m trusting you not to take advantage of me tonight. The last thing I want to do is end up in bed with you.”
“The last thing?”
She nodded as he led her to the door.
“While that’s flattering, babe, tonight, you don’t have to worry. Slobbering drunk isn’t how I want that to go down.”
She frowned the moment his unflattering description registered. Her heel slipped into the space between a cobblestone, and she stopped to rescue her shoe. “I’m not slobbering.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her to his car, one bare foot and all. “No, you’re not.”
An hour later, after Jesse had held her hair back while she retched up thirty dollars’ worth of whiskey, he helped her brush her teeth and get ready for bed.
She snuggled against his leg as he sat facing her. “Jesse?”
He looked down as she threw an arm around his back. “Mm-hmm?”
“What’s your tattoo say?” Her voice whispered against his jeans.
“Discere et vivere. It means live and learn.”
“Did you? Live and learn, I mean?”
He chuckled and ran a hand through her hair. “I guess not so much. I’m back in the town that hates me, with the people who have no right to judge but do it anyway even though they hurt the ones they supposedly care about.”
She smiled and ran her hand over his leg. “That was a lot of words.” She nodded then nuzzled his thigh with her chin. “Is that why you ran away from here? Because of them judging you?”
“You haven’t heard the story?”
She shook her head and closed her eyes.
“Another time. For tonight, that memory lane is closed for construction.” He spoke with finality, and she didn’t have the presence of mind to question him further.
She’d just wanted to hear his voice, needed him to talk to distract her from the mess her life had become.
He waited for her soft snore before he tried to move. As he scooted back a fraction, her arm tightened around him, and she lifted her head, moving it more to the center of his lap. “Tell me,” she whispered, her head—and, oh God, her lips—close to the danger zone.
“Tell you why I left?”
She nodded, and he dropped a hand to stop her motion. He sighed, hating the truth behind his words almost as much as he hated himself for his part in them.
On the slim chance of her remembering any part of this night, he discounted the lie he usually used and let the truth form easily. “There was a girl.”
“I was gonna guess that. Guys like you always have a story about a girl.”
“Shh.”
She turned her head into his palm and kissed it. “Okay.”
“She got pregnant. Her parents wanted us to get married, but my mom was running for mayor and just wanted it all to go away.” The picture of seventeen-year-old Kaitlyn Reynolds snuck into his mind, sobbing in his arms as her father screamed at him while her mother wept silently in a corner of her parent’s living room. “We left her house. The ice was really bad, and I was driving too fast. You know, young, invincible, nothing can hurt me.” His eyes closed as the memories swamped him, dragging him under their weight. “We had nowhere to go, no money. My mom cut me off until I was prepared to come to my senses. As we were driving out of town, I skidded off the road and into a tree on Kaitlyn’s side of the car. She lost the baby the next day.”
Ryhan tried to lift her head, but he couldn’t bear one more person’s pity or blame. He nudged her back into his lap. “Did you want the baby?”
Bitterness burned his tongue. “I didn’t, but Kait did, and I wanted Kait. I didn’t know how frail she was, how sad a person could be. It was just bigger than she was. I watched her fading every day. She called me that last night. I was working in Moreland, helping build a strip mall. It was late, and I should have been home with her, but we didn’t have any money.” He couldn’t bring himself to say the rest. “I got there too late to save her.”
Ryhan sat up and brushed the tear that streaked down his cheek. “People here blamed you.” She wrapped both arms around him and held him.
He didn’t fight when she pulled him down next to her.
“I was seven when my dad killed my mom. They got into a fight, and he just whipped out a gun and shot her right in the head. They put him in prison, and I got sent to foster care—a different house every year for eight years.” She inched closer, but kept her gaze on his face. “Lana and Mark moved us here when he took over his dad’s store, and I loved it so much, the town, the school, even though I didn’t have a single friend except Alexandra Gilden.” She smiled and patted his cheek. “That’s right. It was the devil girl and the virgin. People should have been laughing behind our backs, but they thought we were good for each other. She calmed me down, and I loosened her up.” The smile fell from her lips. “I thought these people were so good, so friendly and kind.”
“The ones laughing at you?”
“That was the thing. They didn’t. We were just two young girls trying to figure out life, and they accepted that. So, I thought I found a place where I belonged.” She smiled, but sadness dripped from her words. “I used to love this town.”
“And now?”
She shrugged.
“I didn’t think he would post that video online or that everyone would go Amish and shun me for my bad behavior. I thought it was a private thing for us. And I would have never thought these people would act this way. I do everything they ask me to do. I just. . .” Her voice halted on a quiet sob.
He’d had enough experience with this town to know she should have suspected they wouldn’t stand by her any more than they’d stood by him. Instead of pointing it out, he avoided mentioning his feelings on the subject. “Why’d you go out with that guy?” She was too beautiful, too smart, too good for that loser.
“Because he wanted me, or I thought he did. He just wanted a video to make himself famous.” She rolled her eyes. “I guess he didn’t realize I’m not exactly Pamela Anderson.”
His arms tightened, tucking her under his chin. “I would trade ten of her for one of you.”
“Everyone here thinks I’m a whore now.” The grief in her voice tore at him, ached in his own heart.
“I don’t.”
She looked up and kissed the underside of his chin. “Jesse, what happened with Kait, you know that isn’t your fault, right?”
“It was a long time ago, Ryhan. I’m over it.” But the ping of his heart said he hadn’t quite buried his guilt deep enough.
“Still, you know, right?”
He nodded, feeling every bit the liar he’d always been. The thought didn’t have time to plant itself in his mind as she slipped her hand under his shirt, skimming up his ribs, finding the muscle in his chest.
“Whatcha doing?” Not that he minded, but he’d been walking around hard enough to cut glass because of her for the last few days. All this starting and stopping played hell with his system. Better to stop it now before it started again.
“Research.”
“Re-research?” His voice caught on a high note as she ran her fingers down his chest to his stomach.
“For my porn career.” Her lips grazed his neck, and his heart sped up.
After a moment, he gathered the chivalry left in the northern half of him, and pulled back, seizing her hands with his. “I’m still leaving soon.”
She pulled free with a sharp tug and resumed her exploration of his skin. Now both hands were on him, and his control slipped as his eyelids dropped. “I don’t care.”
He gathered her fingers in his and brought both hands to his lips. “No, baby. The alcohol doesn’t care. The sweet girl inside you will be very angry with herself tomorrow morning.” He grinned. “Maybe afternoon.”
“Do you not want me?” Her voice shook, and pure terror—not that she’d become upset, but that he cared that she’d become upset—pumped through his chest.
He chuckled, the sound never quite reaching a joyous pitch. “I could ring doorbells with this thing because of you.” He needed her to know what she did to him, if only to ease her mind. He squeezed closer, letting the evidence of his physical reaction press against her leg. “Because just thinking of you makes me want to strip you naked and make you remember me every time you close your eyes.” Every cell in his body screamed for release, for him to shut the hell up and take what she offered. “But I’m not that guy anymore. I can’t know what I know about you and still sleep with you. I don’t want to be just another person in your life who lets you down.”
“You won’t let me down.”
“I’m not staying in Rangers End, Ryhan, no matter what happens between us.”
“I don’t care.”
“Liar.”
“Well, that’s my problem then, isn’t it? You won’t be here to see it, so what are you worried about?” The conviction in her voice along with her roving fingers sent him sliding toward the edge.
Convincing a woman not to sleep with him went against everything he believed in, but he couldn’t stop himself. She would regret it in the morning, and he didn’t want to be a regret. “Maybe we should just sleep tonight and think on it?”
Her lips stilled, and she turned away pressing her ass against him. The delicious friction of her squirming for comfort had him rethinking all his good intentions. He wanted to spin her around, rip off those ridiculous flannel pajamas, and taste every inch of her skin.
“Jesse, I’m not really sorry I ruined your date.”
He closed his eyes and whispered, “Me, either.”
11
For the second time in a week, she’d woken up with this man and without getting any action whatsoever. Not for lack of trying, but she smiled anyway. She wanted her one wild night, and he wasn’t leaving town until she got it. She’d kidnapped him once, and she’d do it again if she had to.
Wiggling her bottom against him, this time on purpose, she pretended to sleep and completed a slow rotation until her face pressed against his chest. She threw a leg over his hip and nestled in closer. Her tongue flicked out, tasting the skin at the hollow of his throat, and he groaned as she pushed her hips against his. His arms tightened around her, his fingers slinking under her shirt to caress her back. She continued her attack against his neck, nibbling and sucking anywhere she could reach.
His hand inched up her ribcage, and need arched her back. Just as he cupped her breast, took the nipple between his fingers, the phone beside her bed rang, and he jerked away as though caught by a husband she didn’t have.
“What are we doing? I thought we decided”—he scooted further away and she hauled him back with leg muscles ripened from years of car breakdowns forcing her to walk.
“No, you decided. I didn’t agree to anything.” She nipped at his neck once more.
“I have a meeting this morning. So do you.”
“I don’t care.” Her words came between kisses against his reddened skin. The last thing she wanted to think about was a planning commission meeting that she’d probably be asked to leave.
“What about the phone?” He ground out each word.
“Don’t care.” Her lips burned against his skin, and her hand grazed his chest while her hips rocked slowly, drawing out each moan. He could deny anything he wanted, but his body told her she was getting to him. Good thing too, because his words had the power to shred her self-esteem.
He gripped her shoulders, pushing her away. “Ryhan, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then don’t.” She stretched her shoulders and neck, trying to reach him.
“You are very hard to resist.” His words may have said resist, but the heat emanating off him spoke to desire, passion. . .need.
“Well, stop trying.” She gave up on reaching his neck and ran her tongue along the center of his chest.
“Ryhan.” The soft pleading in his voice stilled her.
Had she read the signals wrong? Was he not as into her as he acted? Of course he wanted her. He couldn’t hide what his body told her. She rolled away and crossed her arms over her chest to hide her heavy breathing, her pounding heart.
“Okay.” She added a silent, “For now.”
Propping up on her elbow, she took in his slightly mussed hair, the bedroom eyes. She kept her gaze pointed at his face, afraid of what she might do if she so much as glimpsed anything below his neck.
He matched her pose, reaching out a hand to twist a strand of hair around his finger. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Bachelor auction. Lana and Mark always buy a table.”
“Bidding on anyone I know?”
“You bet I am.” She nodded. “There’s one guy I might spend a couple of bucks on.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah.” She swallowed back a smile. “Jeff Winslet cleans a mean carpet, and I would like to purchase his services for Lana’s living room.”
His brow furrowed, creating little lines across his forehead. “I thought the object of this thing was to buy a date.”
“Oh, it is, but when I spend my money, it’s more about the services I can get out of them.” She chuckled. “Not those kinds of services. I’m not paying for that. Besides. I’ve waited on every person in this town, and I know stuff. To be hon
est, most of the guys up for auction this year are not my pick for dinner mates.”
“Are you being a snob?”
“You’re kidding, right? We have a napkin tucker, a full-mouth talker, two soda spitters, and one guy doesn’t use a napkin at all. Not quite inspiration for a love match. The things you see as a waitress cannot be unseen.”
“What about me? Where do I fit in your man map?”
“You fit in the ‘out of my price range’ category.” She grinned and wiggled her eyebrows. “Besides, I’m not paying for what I want to do with you.”
“What do want to do with me?” His teasing tone went straight to her center and fanned out with heat on top of her already burning desire to roll around her sheets with him.
She lowered her eyelids and tilted her head to the side. “Do you really want to dirty talk with me? There was sound to that video too. Did you not hear it?” Yeah. She could laugh about it in the safety of her apartment with someone like him, someone who put her so at ease she felt comfortable asking for what she wanted and didn’t mind—much—when he refused.
He shook his head, a half-smile turning a corner of his mouth up. “Not enough, I guess.”
She pursed her lips. “I don’t like to brag, but it’s one of my special skills.”
He closed his eyes and blew out a breath. “You’re killing me.”
Well, if he thought she had any intention of letting up, he could just guess again. She might have failed at every other aspect of her life, but this one blew the importance of the others to bits. She wasn’t in the mood to lose again. “You asked.”
He stretched, his shirt riding up over his stomach, and Ryhan’s blood reached its boiling point. His devil grin said he knew exactly what he’d just done and her reaction to it. “Will I see you at the meeting?”
She frowned. “I don’t know the point. They’re just going to kick me out as soon as I walk in.” Visions of old-lady finger-pointing anger flashed through her mind.
His phone chirped. He pulled it from his pocket, checked the screen, rolled his eyes, and tossed it to the side. “I have to go.” He leaned in and kissed her, cupping her face then taking his time pulling back. “Come to the meeting. I’ll protect you.”
Man in Black Page 13