Love on the Line (Love Beyond Danger Book 3)

by Diane Holiday

  Anne stood and ran a hand down her pants. “Hi, again.”

  “Hey. How was the session?”

  “Good. I always learn something.” She glanced at the rotating door of the lobby.

  Not a good sign.

  Wyatt took a breath. Enough of this. He wasn’t some cowering high school kid. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

  She blinked and cocked her head. “Thanks, but no. I have papers to grade.”

  “No. I didn’t mean now.” Strike one, but he wasn’t giving up yet. “I meant maybe this weekend. Would you like to get coffee? In a place where they bring it to you so you don’t have to carry mine? Come on, I owe you.”

  Retreat blazed in her deep-blue eyes. She forced a smile. “Thanks so much, but I’m not really a coffee drinker.”

  “But you had some today.”

  She shrugged, and the cute way her mouth twisted to the side made his belly flip. Oh man, she probably had gotten a cup just so she could help him with his. Another reason to like her.

  He dragged a hand down his face. “So, you don’t like coffee?

  “Not so much.”

  “But you know people who like coffee, and you like them?”

  Her eyes narrowed, and her lips twitched. “I like people who like coffee.”

  He might still split a rib. “Does your dog like coffee?”

  Anne laughed. A pure, sweet, sound that reverberated through his body. And holy crap, her entire face lit up brighter than stadium lights when she smiled. It made him want to do whatever it took to keep her laughing.

  Refreshing.

  She shifted and pressed her lips together. “I really should get going.”

  Uh-oh. She’d retreated again. Maybe he could buy some time. “Did you park in the garage?”

  She nodded.

  “Me, too. I’ll walk you out.”

  “Can you drive?” She gestured to his leg.

  “Yeah. Right leg’s fine.”

  “Oh, of course.” She glanced at the elevators. “You don’t have to walk me to my car, especially with the crutches.”

  “I’m pretty sure I have to.”

  “Why?”

  “My mother. She would have killed me if I let a woman walk alone to her car in a dark parking garage.”

  “I managed to get here okay.” Anne shrugged.

  Wyatt shook his head. “That wouldn’t have mattered to my mother.”

  “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that. Okay.” She made her way to the elevators and pushed the button.

  As she stared at the lit-up floor numbers above the door, he couldn’t help but stare at her. Freaking adorable. She had a cute, perky nose and straight blond hair tucked behind her tiny ears. At least for now. The wisps tended to slip out, and for some crazy reason he wanted to be the one to brush them back the next time.

  When they got in the elevator, Anne stood in front of the control panel and pressed the parking floor button. Wyatt balanced on his crutches. The doors shut, and a flowery, soft scent filled the space. Amazing. The woman smelled as sweet as she looked.

  She gave him a quick, polite smile, and then looked up at the descending numbers.

  Awkward silence. Shit. He needed to say something. Anything. Sweat tickled under his ears. He could talk to a wall, for God’s sake, but apparently not to Anne.

  Ding.

  The doors opened, and he held a crutch out, gesturing for her to exit.

  “You first,” she said. “I’ll hold the door button.”

  “Nope. After you.” He shook his head.

  “I’m already holding the button, go ahead.”

  “Nope. Remember what I said about my mama? Same thing with the elevator.” And he meant it. Chivalry wasn’t dead.

  “Oh my God. It’s not the dark ages. I—”

  “You’re holding the elevator hostage. What about all the people upstairs waiting for it?”

  She pursed her lips and huffed. “Fine. I’ll go.”

  The look she shot him on the way out meant he hadn’t scored any points, but she still held an arm out to block the door from closing.

  “You know you’re stubborn, right?” she asked, a hand on her hip.

  “And you don’t like to let people do things for you, right?”

  “Why would you say that?” She thrust her chin up.

  His gaze dropped to the base of her throat, where her pulse beat a rapid rhythm. He’d love to press his lips against the spot. And her sweet scent floating in the air didn’t help. Focus, he had to focus. “It’s a hunch. There are givers and takers, and you’re a giver. At least from what I’ve seen. And for the record, I appreciated the help today.”

  She blinked and swallowed, dropping the hand from her hip.

  There. That did it. Now she was speechless. And not looking so ready to go to battle. But he’d only spoken the truth.

  “I really need to get going.” She adjusted her purse on her shoulder.

  “Which way is your car?”

  “It’s over there.” She pointed across the parking garage to the far end. “But I’m fine, thank you.”

  “Eh, that’s not far from where I parked. Lead the way.” He gestured with the crutch again.

  Her hand went back on her hip. Shit. Now what? Everything he did seemed to get under her skin. And he didn’t have the slightest clue what to do about it. No woman had ever challenged him.

  “You’re used to getting your way, aren’t you?”

  He kind of was. Not that he thought about it much. “Well, I’m not right now.”

  “How’s that?”

  Not sure what to say, he took a step closer. She glanced up, and her eyes did that flicker thing, heating his blood. Licking her lips, her gaze dropped to his mouth. He might not know what was going on in that head of hers, but he knew desire when he saw it. At least it went both ways.

  All or nothing. His gut said he had one more shot. The muscles in his neck bunched. This mattered. Why, he had no idea.

  When he blew out a breath, her gaze flew back to his.

  He softened his voice because he didn’t want to scare her off, which seemed like a real possibility. “I’m not getting my way because I’ve been kicking myself ever since I didn’t ask for your number at the bar. And now that we’ve spent some time together, I’m kicking myself even more.”

  She gave the slightest shake of her head. “Wyatt, you seem like a nice guy, but—”

  “I am. Give me a chance. All I’m asking is for one cup of coffee. Or tea. Or juice. Or whatever you want. No pressure, and if it doesn’t work out, I promise I’ll never bother you again.”

  He held his breath.

  She closed her eyes for a second, and then opened them. “Okay. I guess a guy who doesn’t want to disappoint his mother can’t be all bad.”

  Yes. Virtual fist pump. “How about the diner on Main Street, Friday after school?”

  She slowly nodded. “Sure.”

  He dug his phone out and handed it to her. “Can I have your number in case anything changes?”

  She hesitated, but took the phone and punched in a number. After handing it back, she dug her own out. “What’s your last name so I enter you alphabetically?”

  Alphabetically? Most of his contacts were one-word nicknames—Bones, Jones, Jewels.

  “Pearson.” He forced a straight face and waited for her reaction.

  None.

  Tension tightened his belly. She really didn’t know anything about him. He’d be starting fresh with her. Just a regular Joe. This woman didn’t care about his fame or fortune. Going back as far as he could remember, women came to him. He’d never had to pursue anyone. Hell, he’d sweated bullets trying to get Anne to agree to cup of coffee. Scratch that—tea. And if she didn’t even like sports, how would she ever understand him? Maybe he should stick to what he knew.

  She slipped her phone back in her purse and held out her hand. “Anne Cooper.”

  Her dimples popped when she smiled and gave him a firm
shake.

  His heart slid sideways as her face lit up once again. He couldn’t help but grin. “Now, can I walk you to your car?”

  She squared her shoulders. “Thank you, but I’m fine.”

  This woman really didn’t want help from anyone. But she’d agreed to tea. That was a start.

  “Okay, I’ll call you.” He wasn’t going to pressure her.

  As Anne backed out, Wyatt’s phone vibrated with a text message.

  Angela. Flight attendant and a hot Redskins cheerleader he hooked up with from time to time. “Angel” had no business being part of her name.

  I’m back in town. Come to my place tonight?

  Wyatt glanced up at the tail lights of Anne’s car leaving the parking garage. Since when did he not want to see Angela? Another first. He typed a quick note back. Sorry, can’t do. Maybe catch up another time?

  She replied with two face emojis. A frown and a blowing-a-kiss.

  What the hell had he gotten himself into? He never turned down Angela. He brought up his contacts and searched for Anne’s number.

  Cooper, Anne.

  Dynamite in a petite package. He shook his head, tapped edit, and changed her name to “mini-cooper.”

  He had a feeling he might be in for a wild ride.

  Chapter 6

  The paper shook in Paul’s hand as he read the invitation for his college reunion. Would Lynn be there? His pulse skipped a beat. Lynn...the one and only girl he had ever loved. Sure, it had started out as a bet with Devon over who could win her affections, but it quickly became more than that to Paul.

  He hadn’t seen her since college when she’d disappeared and he’d lost touch with her. Now, he and his wife shared a comfortable life, but she had never stirred his blood like Lynn.

  The image of her sitting up on the rocks when they went hiking back in college would burn in his mind forever. Her long, dark hair blowing in the breeze as she smiled shyly at him. Under the shade of a tree, Paul kissed her, and she kissed him back. That was the day Lynn told Devon she wasn’t interested in him, and Paul won the bet.

  The next month was a blur. Paul lived and breathed to spend time with her, and for some crazy reason, she acted the same way. When he finally got the nerve, they had sex. She was giving, loving, and he tried to please her to the best of his inexperienced ability.

  That was the last time he saw her. His heart broke when she left town without a word. They’d both graduated, but she hadn’t even shown up for the ceremony. None of her friends would talk to him or shed any light on the situation.

  With no other choice, he’d licked his wounds and gone on with life. What would he even say to her if he saw her at the reunion? Regret gnawed at his stomach lining.

  He picked up the phone and dialed Devon’s number. “Hey Devon, how are things going? Haven’t heard from you lately.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “Trying to win our bet?”

  “I’ll win. You just be ready to pay up. Is this all you called about?” Devon asked.

  “No. I was wondering if you were going to the reunion.” Tension pinched Paul’s shoulder blades.

  Devon scoffed, “Hell no. I haven’t kept in touch with any of those people.”

  “I figured as much.” Good. He wouldn’t be there to make fun of Paul if he did see Lynn.

  “Why? Are you actually thinking of going?”

  “Probably not.” Paul tried to sound casual. “On other subjects, I wanted to let you know the wire came through and everything is settled with that last purchase.”

  “Perfect. Thanks. Anything else?”

  “Nope. I’ll catch you later.” Paul hung up and smoothed the invitation out with this hand.

  College had been a struggle for him socially until he’d met Devon. He’d helped Devon pass some classes and climbed the social ladder by association. He’d been popular, and suddenly Paul was invited to parties and events. Devon liked to gamble and make wagers, which is how their game began. Paul didn’t care that he lost most of them, because he had won the only one that mattered to him. Lynn.

  He blocked off the date in his phone calendar and shredded the invitation.

  No need to tell his wife about the reunion. She’d just think he had another late night at work.

  Chapter 7

  Anne packed her lunch, turned off the apartment lights, and headed to her car, taking her time on the steps, as her ankle still ached. Rituals were good. Rituals kept her from thinking about Wyatt and why she’d agreed to meet up with him. Rituals reminded her that he ticked off every block in her “men-I-should-never-date” column.

  Handsome check.

  Charming check.

  Famous double check.

  No. Her next date was supposed to be with an average, down-to-earth, reliable man. Someone who didn’t need constant ego stroking. Someone who didn’t draw a crowd wherever he went. She was a conservative, private person on a track to become a principal one day. Her reputation would weigh heavily in the decision of a school to accept her.

  Only, when Wyatt had said that stuff about givers and takers, he’d gotten to her. And they’d just met. She was a giver. And it was as hard as hell for her to take anything. Her whole life she’d been the responsible one. Watching out for her sisters, teaching her students. Nothing satisfied her more than helping others.

  Add to that the chemistry, or whatever the hell it was that caused her insides to melt around him, and…yeah, she’d said yes to coffee. Big mistake. She still had time to call and cancel. But the way he’d talked about his mother had touched her. Obviously, he cared about and respected his mom. That had to count for something.

  A couple miles into the drive to work she groaned at the vibration followed by the flap-flap-flap sound of her tire as rubber smacked against pavement. Crap.

  She got out of the car, zipped her coat up, and slightly limped over to the source of her frustration. Stupid flat tire. She itched to kick it with her good foot.

  With a sigh, she headed back to the driver’s seat. Once inside, she pulled her phone out and dialed the emergency roadside assistance number she had programmed.

  Of course, she got a robo-voice asking for her account number and location. No real person ever manned a phone anymore. The robot informed her someone would be dispatched to her location in one to two hours. Shit. She needed to be at school in twenty minutes. Tension bit into her neck. The rearview mirror reflected nothing but a winding country road for miles.

  She had a spare in the trunk, and she could look up how to change one. Couldn’t be that hard. She had a wrench, tire iron, and first aid kit as well. Never hurt to be prepared. Hopefully the first aid kit wouldn’t be necessary. But considering her lack of tire changing skills, she couldn’t rule it out. She called the school office to let them know she’d be late.

  As she hauled out the spare tire from the trunk, the smooth thrumming of a car engine caught her ear. The vehicle pulled up behind her and parked. Her heart raced. There wasn’t time to put the tire down and get back into her car. What if it was some pervert or thug? Gripping the tire wrench in her hand, she stood as tall as her five-foot-four frame could muster and assessed the man getting out of a BMW.

  He was tall, dark, and dressed in what looked like an expensive suit. The hazard lights on his car flashed as he approached with a friendly smile.

  “Need a hand?”

  She wasn’t sure what to say. The guy was decked out like he’d stepped off a movie set. Certainly not dressed for changing tires.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah. But I have a flat.” Her gaze dashed over his suit. “I called roadside assistance.”

  The man shrugged. “Sure, but I bet you’ll be waiting here for a long time. It’ll only take me a couple of minutes to change it.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t ask you to—”

  “Not a problem.” He slipped off his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves. Glancing at the tire wrench in her hand, he said, “I have s
omething better. Be right back.”

  He jogged to his car and returned with a bigger wrench and a cloth to kneel on.

  After jacking up the car, he removed the lug nuts with quick, efficient twists. The guy wasn’t big in a body builder kind of way, but he moved with strength and control. No doubt he got his share of female attention with his good looks, but he didn’t ignite sparks in her belly like Wyatt did.

  He yanked off the flat tire and his long, lean hands deftly replaced it with the spare. With a final twist, he tightened the nuts, then stood and tossed the flat tire into the trunk, thumping it shut.

  “You should be good to go. Don’t drive too long or fast on that little donut spare.”

  “Thanks so much. I really appreciate it.” She wanted to offer to pay him, but he didn’t look like he needed money and might get insulted. She held out her hand to shake. “I’m Anne, by the way.”

  Her gaze went to his hands, which were dirty from handling the tire. He picked up the rag he’d brought and wiped them. “Devon. Nice to meet you, even under such unfortunate circumstances.”

  They shook hands and he squeezed hers, holding it for a second, then let go and walked back to his car. With a quick wave, he pulled away and left her staring into the taillights of his BMW.

  She shook her head. What was such a city slicker doing way out in the country?

  Chapter 8

  Anne parked in the lot next to the coffee shop. Red hearts adorned the lampposts lining the sidewalk. Several of the quaint shops had Valentine’s window decorations. She’d forgotten all about V-day. Since she’d never had a boyfriend in February, it kind of fell off the radar. Soon enough, social media would blow up with pictures posted of flowers and candy. Sometimes it sucked to be single, but with standardized testing coming up, she didn’t have time to wallow.

  She couldn’t bring herself to get out of the car yet, wishing she hadn’t succumbed to some crazy attraction she’d felt with Wyatt that made her agree to meet, so she flipped down the vanity mirror to touch up her lipstick. One cup of tea, and she’d be outta there. Too late to cancel.