The big, strong, independent man would stop at a whisper. She was so powerful. Yet helpless in his arms. She wouldn't stop him if her life depended on it.
She wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her across the patio. Where were they going? It didn't matter. She was in his arms, he was kissing her as if she was the oxygen that kept him alive, and she didn't want to ever be anywhere else.
He lowered her onto something moldable, not breaking the kiss long enough for her to look. He stretched her out on her back with the force of his presence and his kiss.
Suddenly, his whole weight landed on her and her breath was crushed out of her body. "Ump."
"Sorry," he grunted. "My knee slipped through the straps."
"Straps?" She lifted her head enough to look at what they were on. A pool lounge chair, the seat of which were horizontal rubber straps. Knees and elbows would go between the straps if they weren't careful. "This should be fun."
He didn't answer, already preoccupied with nibbling on her neck.
Straps, shmaps. Who cared if they fell through? She arched her back, tipped her head back to provide easy access as his hands tugged at the bottom of her shirt. She tensed, waiting for the feel of his hands on her bare skin.
But first she heard the tearing of fabric and a muttered curse from Evan. "Sorry."
She propped herself up on her elbow to inspect the damage. "I've never had a man want me so much he tore my clothes."
He grinned, holding up a piece of fabric. "Your clothes are so wet that they're sticking to you. Your jeans are like a chastity belt. I couldn't get your shirt out."
"It's so sexy that you're strong enough to tear my clothes. Do it again." Why not? Might as well up the ante and immerse herself in the strength and power of the man sitting on her.
Evan's face darkened. "You want me to tear your clothes?"
"Whatever it takes to get them off." She'd never felt like this before. Desperate for his touch, his kiss, his nearness. Why was he so slow? Treating her as if she were a delicate flower. "They're just clothes." She trailed her fingers over his shoulders, down his arms, and kissed his chest. "I swear, you have the sexiest body I've ever seen." Then she looked up. "Sorry. I'm not usually that blunt." Or that turned on, but that was a different story.
"I like your bluntness." He slipped his hands under her shirt and tugged it over her head, seeming to have mastered the wet-material-sticking-to-wet-skin problem. Or maybe he was so male and so suave that he could be seductive doing anything.
Didn't matter anyway.
She was smoldering lava regardless.
"I didn't realize there was anything you liked about me." The words barely made it to the surface, nearly smothered by her gasp as he undid her bra and cradled her breasts in his hands.
Heaven. Bliss. There were no other words to describe the sensations racing through her body.
His lips found hers again, and she threw her arms around him, pulling him as close as she could, basking in the feel of her body pressed up against his bare skin. His fingers skimmed her ribs, tickled her skin, and sent waves of tremors cascading through her body.
She couldn't wait anymore.
Her body trembling, she dropped her hands to his waist and untied his running pants. She'd barely even gotten her fingers on the drawstring when she felt him fumbling with her zipper. It was like they were in a frenzy, driven by some insatiable need for each other that simply couldn't be satisfied fast enough.
Evan had her pants unfastened before she'd even gotten her fingers to work. He tugged on the wet denim.
Nothing.
"They're stuck."
"Tear them." She wiggled her hips and tried to free herself.
"Tear wet denim?"
"Yes!" She grabbed her waistband and yanked, but gained only a fraction of an inch. Never had those extra fifteen pounds she'd gained since college been so annoying. "Okay, so maybe I shouldn't have skimped on updating my wardrobe."
Evan grinned. "I rather like how your clothes fit you."
"Even now?"
"Maybe not so much." He renewed his focus on her jeans, his face landing in her belly when his knee went through the straps of the chair again.
"I love when you bury your face in my stomach," she said.
"Really? I can do it on purpose too." He extricated his knee from the chair and settled himself carefully on the straps.
"Go for it."
The jeans struggle faded for a moment while he proved his immense talents when it came to his mouth and her body. She had melted into the lounge chair by the time he got to the waistband of her ornery jeans, an obstacle which caused a very unwelcome halt to his ministrations.
"Dumb jeans." Josie laid back on the chair, grabbed her waistband and pushed, wiggling her hips and trying every trick she could think of to get the heavy, wet material off. Evan joined her, but the things were like glue. It was like she'd spray-glued them to her body. "Argh!"
Evan rolled off her to his feet.
"You aren't giving up, are you?" She tried to prop herself up on her elbows, only to have her left one slip through and crash to the patio below, sending shooting pain up her shoulder.
"That chair is a death trap. Come on." He grabbed her hands and pulled her to her feet. "I can't wait any longer."
He grabbed the jeans and gave them a determined yank. With gravity now working with them and the twisted angles of her body eliminated, Evan was finally victorious. His pants, much looser than hers, followed in short order, giving her a second view of a truly magnificent specimen.
Only this time, it was different. In the shower, she hadn't been supposed to look. But now...
He grabbed her, hauled her up against him, and lifted her to his chest. "No chair."
"No argument." She wrapped her legs around his waist, clung to his shoulders and let him support her...guide her...direct her... "Oh, wow."
Holding her as if she weighed no more than a feather, an impressive feat given her actual weight, he kissed her lips, her neck, her collar bone, whispering her name as if it were the password to heaven. She shuddered, her body trembling as he drove deeper into her, with a strength and a passion she'd never felt before.
This was the man she'd been looking for her whole life.
She needed his strength, his tenderness, his independence.
Nothing less would ever do again.
And when the heavens shattered around her, she felt him shudder and groan, holding her to him as if she were the biggest treasure he'd ever touched, fragile and beautiful.
He made her feel beautiful.
And treasured.
She could fall in love with this man.
No doubt about that.
Chapter 21
Evan awoke to find Josie sprawled across him, her hair tickling his chin, her breathing even and deep. The covers had slipped off the bed, no doubt thrown there during one of their interludes during the night. Max was sprawled across the foot of the bed, resting his chin on Evan's ankle, his deep breathing sounding like a train with asthma.
He grinned and tightened his grip around Josie, his hands spanning her waist with ease. Her body was lithe, natural, and sexy as hell, as fiery as her attitude, as spunky as her mind.
No way could he ever go back to the conservative, boring, politically polished dolls he'd been dating since he'd first stepped into this world. They were boring. Predictable. Dull.
Unlike Josie. His little firecracker.
He frowned, even as he absently rubbed her lower back. Except she wasn't his. She was Buddy's. But she didn't want Buddy. So...wasn't that enough?
For a moment, Evan considered what it would be like to throw away his reservations and immerse himself in Josie. His life would never be the same, that was certain. No peace, no quiet, no unchallenged decisions. And her family. He'd have it all. Everything he'd ever wanted.
Except his own brother. He'd have to tell Buddy that he'd slept with the woman his brother loved. Damn.
&
nbsp; Evan closed his eyes and rattled off a few choice curses in his head. If only he hadn't failed Buddy so many times already, maybe he wouldn't feel that he owed him now.
Or maybe he would. Buddy was his little brother, and he was responsible for him.
But what if he never found Buddy? What if he could get everything from Josie and the family who came with her? Instead of one brother, he'd have a horde. He grinned, thinking of his house overflowing with Josie's relatives.
"Evan?" Josie's voice was slurred with sleep, throaty and sexy. "What's wrong?"
He kissed her nose. "Nothing. Go back to sleep."
She nodded and closed her eyes, snuggling closer against him.
He pulled her tighter, kissed the top of her head. Damn it. He didn't want to let her go. But he had no choice. "Are you free at ten on Monday morning?"
"Mmm."
"Josie." He kissed her hair again. "Are you free Monday at ten?"
"I'm unemployed and homeless. Not a lot of conflicting obligations," she mumbled. "Why?"
"We have an appointment with a private investigator who works for my lawyer's firm."
He felt her back muscles tense, but she didn't lift her head. "What's the meeting for?"
"I'm hiring him to find Buddy." He tensed himself, waiting for her response.
"Good. I miss my waffle iron." She snuggled deeper against him while disappointment smacked Evan.
Why was he disappointed? Did he really expect her to declare her desire to forego her money in hopes of having eternal happiness with Evan instead? He wouldn't have accepted it anyway. He and Josie had no future. "When we find Buddy, you and I—."
"Shut up, Evan."
Intending to continue his reminder, he looked down at Josie, with her face buried against his chest and her hair flung carelessly around her face, he couldn't find the willpower to finish. Instead, he closed his eyes and let his head drop back against the pillows.
He dreamed about the night he'd destroyed the last vestiges of his family.
Josie folded her arms, slung her foot over her knee and glared across the polished wooden desk at Miles Stephens, Attorney-at-Law, and his esteemed private investigator. Evan was sitting next to her, and it was all she could do to keep from jumping to her feet, lecturing them on the stupidity of men in general, grabbing Max and Zeus and starting a new life.
Maybe she could live in a shack in the Montana woods, go hunting with Max and Zeus and grow her own vegetables. No more worries about money or men or rent or vet school.
"Did Buddy say where he was going the last time you saw him?"
Josie narrowed her eyes at the spineless, smarmy investigator with his oo-la-la suit and comb-over. "What did you say your name was?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Oh, right. The secrecy thing. Just in case I got a hold of one of your case files and tracked down all the names in it and told them all to be on the lookout for you. Smart. I'm very untrustworthy in that manner."
Okay, so she was being a little hostile. It was excusable, given that she had fallen for Evan, only to have him thrust her back in the arms of his brother.
Oh, she knew why they were there in that greasy little office this morning. Not that the office actually was greasy, but how else could one describe the office of a private investigator? It went with the profession, and she would just ignore that it was actually a very plush, light office with pictures of the man's family.
Anyway, the reason Evan had dragged her to the cockroach infested office was to find Buddy so he could pretend Saturday night hadn't happened. It had absolutely nothing to do with finding her money.
Well, that was fine, wasn't it? She kept professing that she didn't want a relationship with him. But she sort of did want one, even though she didn't want to want one.
She groaned and rubbed her forehead. She was confusing herself so much she needed an overdose of chocolate.
Or maybe her headache was because Evan had been so distant since Saturday night. He'd been out of the house by the time she woke up in his bed, and it hadn't gotten any better as the day went on.
So, she was mad at him. Mad at herself for caring enough to be mad at him. Mad at Buddy. Mad at Tom for marrying her. Mad at her mother for giving birth to her.
Boy, she was feeling cheery today.
"So, Ms. Harper, do you have any idea where Buddy was headed?"
Forget Evan. She was going to help find Buddy and get him back, retrieve her money, and eradicate all Dorsetts from her life. "If I had any idea where he went, I would have gone after him instead of Evan."
Nice, Josie. Sound a little more belligerent.
"What was his last known address?"
"I don't know."
Smarmy Detective Comb-Over nodded and wrote something down in his stereotypical black notebook. "And how long did you date him?"
She squirmed. "I didn't date him. I went on a few dates with him."
"And where did he say he was going?"
"I told you already. I don't know." Was the man an utterly brainless fool? No, probably just trying to trap her into making a mistake...well, sorry for him, but she wasn't lying. "He took my car."
"Did you report it to the police?"
"Yes," she said for the fifth time that morning. "I reported everything. Ninety thousand in cash, my car and my waffle iron. Cops said it wasn't high on their priority list. Budget issues."
Smarmy Comb-over nodded and scrawled something else. Was he doodling or actually taking notes? Probably listing ways to make her run screaming from the room. He was amazingly close to success. "So, did he break up with you before he allegedly stole the car?"
"Allegedly? I'm not making this up!"
Evan set his hand on her arm. "Easy, Josie. He's just doing his job."
"He's an idiot," she snapped. "He's not trying to find Buddy. He's trying to expose me for being a liar." A cold feeling suddenly consumed her, and she stared at Evan. "Is this what today was really about? Is that what you asked him to do? Expose me?"
Evan had probably briefed Detective Smarmy ahead of time that Buddy would never steal anything from her. Of course, she knew he felt like that, but why did it feel like he'd torn out her gut and thrown it under the wheels of a tractor-trailer?
"Josie, don't be ridiculous," Evan said, meeting her gaze. "I just want to find Buddy. That's why we're here."
Hmm...he wasn't averting his eyes. Was he telling the truth, or simply a good liar? No wonder she'd sworn off men. She was an emotional disaster! One good romp and she set her heart out on a platter for him to dispose of however he pleased. What happened to Amazon Josie? Obviously, she fell off the high dive without a life preserver.
Smarmy Comb-over wrote something down. What was he writing? He was giving her the creeps.
Note to self: never go to counseling and have a psychiatrist write down stuff about her. Much too unsettling.
"If you weren't dating Buddy Dorsett, can you please detail the nature of your relationship with him?"
"Ah." Yes. This would be awkward. Discuss her relationship with three men present, two of whom were strangers and one of whom had been delightfully intimate with her body only thirty-six hours ago? "What do you want to know?"
"How long did you know him for?"
Oh, that was easy. "A few months."
"And you gave him access to your bank account?"
As if she'd be that stupid. "No, but he knew where I kept my checks. I didn't exactly treat him as a potential thief." Her mistake there, no doubt.
"And were you intimate with him?"
Evan choked, and Josie glared at him. "Did you ask him to ask me that? Because you could have just asked me yourself, and I would have told you. In fact, I think I've already told you."
Smarmy Comb-over rapped the desk with his bony knuckles. "Mr. Dorsett did not direct me in my questioning. This is standard, to determine the nature of your relationship with Buddy and expose any justification for strong emotions."
"You mean, did h
e break my heart and take off, so I'm making up the stuff about him stealing things so I can get him in trouble just because he hurt me? Is that what you mean?"
Evan shifted beside her, and she felt his hand move to the back of her chair. "I think that's enough."
Josie glared at him. "Enough? But he's..."
Evan shook his head. "Not you. Him."
"Oh." Evan telling Smarmy Comb-over to stuff it? There was just something about a tough man that made a girl's heart swoon. Not that she was the swooning type, of course. She was merely speaking hypothetically.
"We're here to track Buddy down, not pass judgments on either of them or their relationship." Evan's voice was quiet, but there was a steeliness that couldn't be missed. "He was in town recently. Find him." He hesitated, his thumb rubbing ever so gently against her shoulder. "And keep an eye out for Josie's car. Just in case he has it."
"And my waffle iron," she added. "And if he's spent my money, confiscate what he bought with it. Please."
Evan said nothing, but he didn't take his arm off the back of her chair. A subtle show of support. She wondered if he was even aware of the message he was sending.
She certainly was.
Smarmy Comb-over pursed his thin little lips. "And do you know his most recent address?"
She wondered if it would be rude to climb over the desk and punch Detective Smarmy Comb-over in the nose. A punch for every time he asked her a question she'd already answered. She smiled. Perhaps she should become a violent person. Might be cathartic. "I never went to his place. I have no idea where he lived." Or even if he had a place. Knowing Buddy, he was probably bumming from people he knew on rotating nights.
After another hour of repeated questions and her answers, which were apparently unsatisfactory, Detective Smarmy finally snapped his notebook shut. "I should have some information by the end of the week."
End of the week? Only five days left with Evan. She sighed, then smacked herself in the forehead. No! She wasn't getting involved with him!
She stood up, only to have Evan touch her arm, sending stupid sparks flying through her body and igniting her belly. "What do you want?" she snapped.
Paws Up for Love Page 16
