by Donna Alward
“And yet here you are out walking with me. Harder to escape.”
“You’re neither a troll nor creepy, so I don’t feel threatened. Should I?”
He stopped, looked down at her. “No.”
That little zing of attraction zipped between them again. Could Brett be threatening? Maybe to my willpower, she thought, unable to look away from his gaze. Earlier, he’d asked why she’d used a dating site. She wanted to ask him the same thing, because from where she was standing there wasn’t a thing wrong with him. And, yes, she knew he hadn’t actually been the one to set up his profile, but how did a guy like this stay single?
She struggled to keep things light. Breezy. “I suppose if you were some stalkery predator type, you’d hardly answer yes to that question.”
He laughed a little, then feigned a serious expression and rubbed his chin. “That’s true. You’re taking a lot on faith here.”
She turned away and sighed, the spell broken by the very suggestion of having faith in anything—or anyone. “I usually do. It’s what got me in this position in the first place.”
“Pollyanna syndrome?”
She was starting to see he had a subtle sense of humor that she enjoyed. “Maybe a bit. I don’t get that vibe from you though.”
“I don’t take a lot on faith,” he admitted. “I like good solid evidence that I can see and touch.”
Touch. Melly bit down on her lip as they resumed walking. She should not be thinking about him touching her, not this soon. They’d just met. But it wasn’t difficult to let her imagination go there. He was a good-looking guy, rugged and capable and yet polite and funny. Then there was the shape of his lips that somehow begged to be kissed, the strong angle of his stubbled jaw that made her want to run her fingers along the side of his face. And he was just remote enough to make him a challenge. Not that she’d make the first move. Still, she’d have something to think about tonight when she was home alone.
“I understand that,” she replied. “I find my optimistic outlook has a few more dark clouds than it used to.”
“Divorce can do that,” he agreed. “You know, it’s not even so much the hurt anymore. I mean, I did love her. At least I thought I did, which at the time is the same thing. It’s the damage left behind. It’s the way you end up doubting yourself that really hangs on.”
God, he was so right. She alternated between wondering how she could have been so blind to wondering how much of it was her fault. One minute she was strong and determined and had faith that there was love out there for her again, and the next she was terrified that she’d never be able to trust anyone, or take them at face value.
“Tell me about it,” she answered. “I guess that’s why I thought the site would be a good idea. I figured that if I dated anyone from there, they’d understand being gun-shy about the whole romance thing.”
“But you said you wanted to get married again. That you believed in it.” They skirted around a group of teens who crowded the walkway on their way towards town.
“Sure, in the grand scheme of things. Sometimes the practicality of it is quite different.” She shrugged. “Maybe a few dates will at least, I don’t know, get me out there again. Give me some confidence.”
“Great. So I’m your guinea pig?”
His tone was teasing and she laughed. It felt really good. “How about…training wheels? I try to stay away from animal testing.”
He laughed in return. “Training wheels. I don’t know how to feel about that.”
“Oh, don’t worry. Hell, I haven’t even…” She broke off, halting mid-sentence as her face flamed. Wow, had she gotten so comfortable that she’d been about to admit to her sexual dry spell too? That she hadn’t had sex in nearly two years? Twenty-seven. She’d been twenty-seven when the truth had hit. They’d been married for eighteen months. God, she’d been divorced longer than she’d been married. Twenty-nine was feeling much, much older than the number suggested.
She could feel Brett’s eyes on her and she struggled to breathe. “Well, that’s embarrassing,” she murmured, and she heard his soft laugh.
“If it makes you feel better, I haven’t either. Not since Sherry left.”
Sherry. That was her name. Then she absorbed what he was saying. They’d both been celibate since their splits. If anything did happen between them, they would be each other’s firsts. She was kind of glad about that. Like she was at less of a disadvantage.
“Oh,” she replied dumbly. The problem was, talking about the absence of sex in their lives had her picturing all sorts of things that she probably shouldn’t be picturing on a first date.
They were getting farther away from the main part of town now, the path meandering along the river bank to where a bridge crossed over, marking the end of the business district. The path passed beneath the bridge, and it was cool and shaded in the shadows. And private, she realized. They hadn’t met anyone on the trail since the teenagers, and the kids were long gone.
Her heart pounded a little harder simply from the knowledge that they were alone. Had he brought her here on purpose? She felt about sixteen years old, sneaking away with a boyfriend to find some secluded corner to make out. And God help her, she loved it. It was exciting. It made her feel vibrant and alive again. And maybe just a little bit adventurous since Brett was virtually a stranger.
“Melissa.”
She didn’t bother correcting him. Her name sounded different on his lips this time, like a caress, and his voice was dark and soft as it echoed off the concrete.
“Yes?” She turned to face him, and her heart leapt even more at the serious expression on his face.
He reached out and took her handbag from her shoulder and placed it on the ground by her feet. “Maybe we should just get this out of the way.”
“M…my bag?”
He shook his head, stepped closer so that their bodies were nearly brushing and she could hardly breathe.
“Kissing,” he said, the timbre of his voice deeply intimate.
She didn’t want to stammer. Wanted to be flirty and confident and seductive, but that had never been her style. “Oh. Well, I suppose it would be a good litmus test, you know, to see if we’re compatible and all and…”
She was babbling. And she stopped abruptly when he put a finger gently against her lips.
In the next moment, he was kissing her. Or almost kissing her. It was hard to tell, because she could barely feel his lips on hers. But they were there, fluttering, teasing, inviting rather than possessing. Their breath mingled and her eyes fluttered closed as she simply enjoyed the anticipation of what might come next. One thing for certain—Brett Harrison knew how to take his time and make a woman long for more. Because when he opened his lips and deepened the kiss, she forgot all about this being a first date and looped her arm around his neck, pulling him closer.
He was a good four or five inches taller than she was, and when his arm came around her, he pulled her up so that she was on her toes. His tongue swept in to taste hers. His tasted of rich coffee and man and dark desire. It exploded between them, and before she could sort out any kind of rational thought, he’d lifted her off her feet and cupped her buttocks as she instinctively wrapped her legs around him. A half a dozen steps and her back touched something cold and hard—the concrete of the buttress.
This was crazy. Insane. But there was no denying that the chemistry she’d sensed earlier was definitely there between them. His hips pressed against hers and she felt a carnal longing so intense it took her breath away. “Mmm,” she murmured into his mouth, and when he slid his wide hand over the pebbled tip of her breast, the sound was replaced by a gasp of pleasure.
Brett let her down slowly, put his forehead against hers and shifted slightly, putting a little space between them. He was breathing hard and she matched him breath for breath.
“Holy shit,” he said, inha
ling deeply. “Holy shit.”
Melly’s voice was shaky. “Well. There was nothing awkward about that.”
“Maybe we should have broken the ice that way. Saved ourselves a lot of time.” She felt his face shift slightly as he smiled.
“It would have caused quite a scene on Main Street,” she reminded him, her back still against the concrete, her body still humming from the stunning assault on her senses.
Brett stood back, and she knew she flushed again when he adjusted his jeans. “I didn’t intend for all that to happen,” he said, apology in his voice. “I thought I’d kiss you. Without an audience. See if there was any chemistry.”
“Test the waters.”
“Yeah. I didn’t expect to… Well, I don’t think chemistry is a problem.” He let out a low, sexy chuckle.
Melly gathered up all the confidence she could muster. “I’m not sorry you did,” she said plainly. “Bit sorry you stopped though.”
His eyes held hers for a few moments, as if he was asking her to clarify what she’d meant. Would she have gone further? Would she have slept with him on a first date? Not here, not under a bridge like a horny teenager. But she wasn’t sure she’d have stopped him from going further either. And if he asked her to follow him to a hotel right now, she’d be tempted. Mighty tempted. If the heat of that kiss was any indication, sex with Brett was guaranteed to be hot.
The problem with hot was that it was far too easy to get singed.
“I should probably walk you back to your car,” he suggested, and she couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed. Maybe he didn’t want it to go further. Or maybe he was simply being a gentleman. What a novel idea.
“Okay,” she answered dully.
“Mel…” He reached for her hand. “It’s the first date. I don’t want to rush things, that’s all.”
She felt a sliver of relief, knowing that he simply didn’t want to move too fast. Back in the spring sunlight, they reverted to polite chat about Gibson, her job, the ranch. Nothing flirty, nothing suggestive. But Melly’s lips still hummed from his kiss, and the little knot of tension low in her belly refused to go away.
Before long, she was pointing at which car was hers and their steps were slowing on the sidewalk.
“Well, here we are,” she said lamely. She pasted on a smile and looked up at him, feeling increasingly awkward. Boy, it was hard getting back into the dating game again. Other than the few minutes when her hormones had taken over, she’d second-guessed just about everything today.
“Here we are,” he echoed, his voice deliciously deep. Melly wanted to see him again. She knew that for sure. But she didn’t want to be the one to ask. Despite putting herself on the website, she still liked the guy to make the first move.
“Thanks for the coffee,” she said, then bit her lip. She’d bought the coffee. Man, he had her rattled. “I mean…”
“I know what you mean,” he answered. Her bag was starting to slip again, and he reached out, adjusted the strap so it was on her shoulder, his fingers brushing her arm. Goosebumps rose up on her skin at the contact, and nerves tangled in her belly as he stepped closer.
“I had a nice time,” he said softly, and then he dipped his head just a little and kissed her lightly. Just a soft, brief graze on the lips, but it was enough to nearly put her into meltdown.
“Me too,” she said on a breath, blinking and looking up at him with dazed eyes.
“If you’re interested, I’d like to see you again.” Brett reached around her and opened her car door.
“I’m interested,” Melly said quickly and then figured she looked overeager. She wondered if the day would come where she wouldn’t feel like an idiot.
“Should I just message you through the site?” His blue eyes rested on her, and her nerves were so ramped up now that it felt like her whole body was on alert.
“Do you have a phone?”
He reached into his back pocket and took out his cell. She took it and quickly entered her number. “Here. Now you can text me. Or call. Or…whatever.”
“I’ll do that. Maybe we can go to dinner or something.”
“That sounds good.” She smiled. Wondered why on earth she thought grabbing him by the shirt collar and dragging him into her backseat sounded more preferable to a dinner date.
“I’ll be in touch then.” He smiled. “Thanks for the coffee, Melly.”
“Anytime,” she replied and got into her car while he was still holding the door. He shut it behind her and then moved to the sidewalk, lifting a hand in farewell as she pulled away from the curb.
“Well,” she breathed, looking at him in her rear view mirror. “I’ll be damned.
Chapter Four
Brett wasn’t about to tell his sisters a thing about his date, other than she was nice and it went well. When Manda pressed him about whether or not he was going to see Melissa again, he merely shrugged and said he wasn’t sure. But he placated his sister by asking her to give him the password for his profile, which she took as a good sign that he was on board.
And then he immediately changed the password so she couldn’t get access anymore.
He texted Melly and asked her to dinner on Friday night, saying he’d drive into Helena this time. They agreed that she’d make reservations for eight o’clock since she knew the city restaurants better than he did, and she’d meet him there. Brett was nervous as hell. Melly was looking for love. He wasn’t. She was open to dating for fun…that he could handle. Dinner was easy, but what about after?
There was no denying there was chemistry, but how far did he want things to go? What was, well, appropriate? Shit, he hated dating and rules and just…everything. He was still kind of reeling from the first date, if he were being honest. He’d gone to be polite and ended up beneath Memorial Bridge with her legs wrapped around him. Lord, she’d been sweet. Sweet and sultry.
At a meeting with his lawyer on Wednesday, he was so distracted that he barely registered that his latest offer on a property had been turned down. He finally turned to his buddy Austin for advice. Austin was married with a sweet wife and a little boy, but he was still good for a few beers and lots of laughs. Austin clapped him on the back, congratulated him on getting back out there again and handed him a box of condoms. Now, Brett was standing in his room, dressed in jeans, boots and a sport coat, hoping he looked okay. He stared at the box of condoms on the bed. It would be pretty presumptuous to think that they’d sleep together on the second date, wouldn’t it? On the other hand, things had gotten pretty hot the other day. Wouldn’t he be smarter to be prepared? She didn’t need to know he had it with him. He wouldn’t want her to think he was expecting anything…but if the opportunity did present itself…
Cursing, he opened the box, ripped one off the strip and tucked it into his wallet. Damn, just thinking about it had given him a hard-on. He ripped off another one and put it with the other. A guy just didn’t know. He’d rather be safe than sorry.
They’d made arrangements to meet at the restaurant, and Brett used his phone to find the location and parked his truck in a nearby parking garage. He was surprised to find the restaurant was so small, but his mouth watered when he stepped inside. The smells were fantastic. It wasn’t anything flashy or extravagant, but the warm colors in the decor and the candlelight made it cozy and welcoming. Sitting at a table for two was Melly, her dark hair falling over her shoulders and a glass of white wine in front of her. She looked up at him and suddenly her eyes lit up and she smiled.
“Do you have a reservation, sir?”
He dragged his gaze away from Melly and focused on the hostess. “My date’s already here, thank you.”
“Of course. Can we bring you a drink to start?”
He couldn’t care less, but he nodded anyway. “I’ll have whatever she’s having,” he suggested. Without waiting, he made his way past the other diners to reach
their table.
Melly stood up as he approached and his eyes goggled at the sight of her. She was wearing a dress, and she had fantastic legs. The dress itself wasn’t especially fancy, but the draped style highlighted her curves and made her look very feminine.
“Brett,” she said, and her smile lit up her face.
The anxiety he’d suffered the whole drive to the city dissipated as he met her beside the table and kissed her cheek. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
“You’re not. I was a little early.” Her cheeks colored prettily. “I don’t know why, but while I was waiting, I was afraid you weren’t going to show or something. I feel better now.”
Their waitress brought a glass of wine and put it on the table in front of him. He started to laugh. “Excuse me, but could I have a whiskey, neat please?”
“You didn’t order the wine?”
“I did. It’s just…” He smiled at her, feeling a little bit foolish. “You can leave it too. Thanks.”
As the perplexed waitress left, he looked at Melly, who was watching him with confusion. “It’s your fault,” he said. “I saw you sitting there and the hostess was asking if I wanted anything and all I could think of was, ‘I’ll have what she’s having’.”
When she laughed, the sound was enchanting. “Do you realize you’ve used that line in both of our dates?”
Right. The “When Harry Met Sally” thing. “I guess I have.” He shrugged. “What can I say? You look beautiful, Melly.”
“Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.”
“I had help.”
He probably shouldn’t have admitted that, but it slipped out. After their coffee date, he’d also wondered what had compelled him to be so honest with someone he’d just met. God, he’d even talked about Sherry, which he never did. Maybe it was because Melly didn’t seem to have an artificial bone in her body. She was incredibly genuine, or at least she appeared to be. And it prompted a comfort level that surprised him.