Rolling Like Thunder
Page 4
“Heather’s running herself ragged tonight. I know the menu, probably better than she does. I can do it.”
Finn decided that he liked Jack. The guy had a sense of humor, but he also wasn’t afraid to pitch in when necessary. Finn had done the same many times at O’Roarke’s Brewhouse. Josie was the owner here, but Jack obviously tried to lighten her load.
After he disappeared with their order, Sarah cast a glance at her remaining sons and daughters-in-law. “I checked on the kids before we left and Cassidy seems to have everything under control.”
“Good,” Josie said.
“Thank God for Cassidy.” Morgan looked over at Chelsea and Finn. “My youngest sister. She’s the ranch housekeeper and she babysits the grandkids, although now that she has a boyfriend we have to make sure we plan ahead.”
Jack returned and pulled his wife out of her chair. “I have a plan. I finally have a night out with the woman of my dreams. Let’s hit the floor, lady.”
“I like that idea a lot.” Gabe offered his hand to Morgan. “Dance with me?”
“As long as you don’t sing in my ear.” But Morgan looked happy as she joined her husband on the floor.
Nick and Dominique followed, and Pete stood and held Sarah’s chair. He paused when Finn and Chelsea didn’t immediately leave the table. “How about you two?”
“We’ll be out there in a minute,” Finn said.
“You’re sure?” Sarah hesitated. “We don’t want to leave our guests sitting all alone.”
“We’re right behind you.” Finn grabbed his beer bottle and glanced at Chelsea. “I don’t know about you, but I need some Dutch courage.”
“I’m with you.” She took several swallows. “Okay, let’s do this thing.”
Finn didn’t feel ready, but Chelsea was on her feet. He pushed back his chair. “I don’t know a lot about dancing, but that looks like what they call country swing. It’s fairly popular around here.”
“Whatever you say. I’m pretty much clueless.” Chelsea studied the participants. “Lots of twirling and fancy footwork. But we might be able to fake it.”
“My specialty is standing in one spot and shuffling around.”
“That’s not going to work, Finn. They’ll run you over.”
“Should we reconsider? After all, you do have on sandals. If I don’t squash your toes I’m liable to place you in serious danger from somebody else. We could sit and drink beer, instead.”
“No, we need to try it. Maybe if we spin around a lot nobody will notice we don’t know what we’re doing.”
Finn sucked in a breath. “All right. Let’s go.” At the edge of the dance floor he grabbed Chelsea and began madly twirling her around the perimeter. He stepped on her a couple of times, but she didn’t yell, so it must not have hurt too much.
On his second circuit, Jack showed up beside them and grabbed his shoulder hard enough to stop the twirling. “What the hell is that you’re doing?”
Finn decided to brave it out. “The same thing you’re doing.”
“I think not.” He gently set Chelsea aside. “Stay right here, sweetheart. I’ll bring him back in a few minutes.”
“Hang on.” Finn stepped back, both hands raised. “Whatever you have in mind, I’m not doing it.”
“Work with me, O’Roarke.” Jack grasped his hand.
Finn pulled free. “I’m not dancing with you, Jack.”
“You weren’t dancing with Chelsea, either. You have two choices. You can continue to look like an idiot out on the floor or you can let me give you a quick lesson.”
“Three choices. I can head back to the table and drink.”
“You’re a quitter? Is that what you’re saying? I didn’t peg you for a quitter.”
Those were the magic words. Finn sighed. “Tell me what to do.”
“That’s better. Put your hand around my waist. Pretend I’m Chelsea.”
“She doesn’t have a five o’clock shadow.”
“And she has way fancier hair and I’m sure she smells better, too. Just focus on what I’m telling you. The idea is to describe a box with your feet and turn at the same time. Now go.”
“You do realize this will look ridiculous.”
“It’s no worse than the hot mess you were a bit ago. Come on, now, you built your own business. That takes cojones. This is just a little dancing.”
Finn could have used more beer, but if Jack was willing to make a fool of himself, then, what the hell? Might as well go along. Good thing nobody he knew was here except Chelsea. Having her watch was bad enough, but at least she’d admitted that she wasn’t very good, either.
Then he caught movement on the far side of the dance floor and realized Josie was dancing with Chelsea. “Hey! Your wife is dancing with my...” He trailed off, unable to come up with a proper title for her.
“Your what?” Jack exerted pressure on Finn’s shoulder to keep him moving in the right direction. “I’m no expert, but I feel a vibe between you two.”
“She’s my business associate.”
“Yeah, and I’m Elvis. Tell me another one. And lead with your other foot. There. That’s better. Good.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“Anybody who owns a hat like yours should be able to dance the two-step. I think you have the basics. Josie’s coming around again with your business associate. We’ll trade partners.”
And just like that, Jack thrust him into Chelsea’s arms and the momentum kept them moving around the floor. Miraculously, they were even doing it in a synchronized fashion. “I’m not sure what just happened.”
“I think it was the fastest dancing lesson in history.”
“Embarrassing as it is to admit, Jack’s a good teacher.”
“Josie said he’s considered the dancing master at the Last Chance. He’s working with the kids now so that they’ll grow up knowing how.”
“You were right that it’s an important skill around here. And believe it or not, we might be actually doing it. More or less. Sort of.”
“We might.” She smiled as she gazed up at him. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve had so much fun.”
“You know what? Me, either.” He wanted to tell her that she was the most beautiful woman in the world, but instead he twirled her around one more time and the music ended.
Jack came by and leaned toward them. “Good job. Now let’s eat.”
The food, as Josie had mentioned, was excellent. Finn noted that the pub fries were better than what he served at O’Roarke’s. Humbling, because he was proud of his establishment’s pub fries, but this little saloon in Wyoming did them better.
After dinner everyone danced some more. Jack suggested that he partner Chelsea while Josie partnered Finn. Finn improved a lot while dancing with Josie, but he was grateful once Chelsea was back in his arms.
He was comforted knowing that she wasn’t any more accomplished than he was, but that wasn’t the only reason he liked dancing with her. He’d discovered how much he loved holding her.
She felt so right cradled in his arms. He should have guessed that she would. The warmth in her eyes told him she felt the same way. This trip was designed to deliver a Hail Mary pass that would clinch the Kickstarter project and save the ranch. No small potatoes, there. But already it felt as if even more was at stake.
As the evening progressed, Jack kept bringing over more O’Roarke’s Pale Ale. Finn knew his inhibitions were disappearing, and he could tell from the way Chelsea danced with him that hers were, too. He had to stay strong.
She’d made it obvious months ago that she thought they could have a lot of fun together. He completely agreed with her. But starting an affair with her had the potential to make him forget everything else. They had an important mission to accomplish this
weekend, and he couldn’t let anything distract him from that.
Dancing with her was safe enough, though. They had people all around them and he still had to concentrate on his footwork so he wouldn’t step on her or run into other couples. That left him very little time to think about how soft her breasts felt or how perfectly their hips aligned thanks to her high-heeled sandals.
Then they goaded each other into attempting a very fast number. They made a mess of it, but he was proud of them for trying. When the music ended they clung to each other, laughing and gasping for breath.
Gradually he realized he could feel the rapid thump of her heart as she leaned against his chest. His palm, which was flattened against the small of her back, rotated in a slow massage. He hadn’t been conscious of doing it at first. He looked down at her and she was looking right back at him, her full lips parted as she sucked in air.
The heat of her body was nothing compared to the heat in her gaze. On cue, his groin tightened. He released her slowly and stepped back as he fought to control his reaction. He hoped she hadn’t noticed, but when the corners of her mouth tilted up a fraction, he thought she had. Maybe dancing with her wasn’t so safe, after all.
Just his luck, the party broke up after that. Pam came over to tell them she was going back to the Last Chance so she could spend the night with her husband. Breakfast would be served as usual because her housekeeper, Yvonne, was also the cook.
Several people offered Chelsea and Finn a ride back to the Bunk and Grub, but Finn suggested walking and Chelsea quickly agreed. He couldn’t speak for her, but he needed a cooling-off period before stepping into a cozy B and B where his room was right next to hers.
At least he hadn’t brought condoms. He was grateful for that as they walked through the cool night air. Fortunately the thought hadn’t crossed his mind in connection with this trip, and even if it had, he would have made sure not to have any.
“That was fun.” Chelsea’s heels clicked on the sidewalk, a sharper sound than what his boots made. “I expected to like them and I do.”
“Me, too. Great family. I have a good feeling about tomorrow. Their support could put us over the top.”
“Yep.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s kind of nippy out here.”
“Yeah.” This cooling-off period had turned out to be just plain cold. If he’d had a coat, he would have given it to her, but he didn’t, and taking off his shirt would be ridiculous. He felt the chill, too, after all that dancing in a warm room. Her blouse was flimsy compared to his cotton shirt, so she must be freezing.
From the corner of his eye he could see her struggling not to shiver. Aw, hell, he had to do something about that. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m going to put my arm around you so you won’t be cold.”
“That would b-be lovely.”
“I didn’t think about how the temperature drops at night in late August.” He kept his tone nonchalant as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and matched his stride to hers. “Warm during the day and frosty at night.”
“S-so I see.” Nestling against him, she slid her arm around his waist. “Thanks.”
And he was no longer cold. She fit against his side and synchronized her steps to his as if they’d walked this way hundreds of times. He tightened his grip on her warm, firm shoulder and imagined touching her warm, firm skin.
Oh, God, now he was thinking of what else they could do that would be effortless. Kissing, for example. And then sliding out of their clothes and into a bed, either his or hers. The more turned on he became the faster he walked. He didn’t realize it until he heard their labored breathing.
He slowed down. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to start race-walking.”
“That’s okay.” There was a hint of laughter in her voice. “Good way to warm up.”
He could think of another good way. In fact, that seemed to be the only thing he could think about.
She stopped making conversation and so did he. No telling what would come out of his mouth in his current state.
Her scent teased him with possibilities. Her hair swung as they walked, brushing his shoulder. He wanted to thread his fingers through those silky strands, cup the back of her head and finally taste the lips he’d stared at for years. Years, damn it!
Instead of kissing her, he let her go when they reached the B and B’s porch steps so he could dig out his keys. As it turned out, she got to hers first and opened the front door.
He followed her into the silent entry. A trace of cinnamon hung in the warm air and a Tiffany-style lamp glowed in the parlor. Etched-crystal sconces along the stairway created an intriguing mix of light and shadow. He remembered they were alone on the second floor of the house. No other guests.
Chelsea started up the carpeted steps and he followed, keeping a safe distance behind her. No, there wasn’t such a thing as a safe distance. He watched hungrily as her snug jeans lovingly stretched over her backside as she climbed. Even though he’d slowed his pace, his heart thumped as if they’d run the whole way.
Rational thought drifted away as insanity gripped him. Her hand on the polished railing made him think of her hand on his cock. The lack of condoms was no longer a lucky circumstance that would keep him from doing something stupid. It was a damned inconvenience standing between him and paradise.
Neither of his best friends would have been caught in this situation. Yet here he was, aching for someone who would probably welcome him into her bed if he gave the slightest indication that he wanted to be there, and he was condomless.
Pausing at her door, she inserted the key in the lock. His fevered brain attached a sexual connotation to that, too.
But there would be no inserting anything because he was without those little raincoats.
She glanced at him as he approached her. Her face was in shadow, her expression hidden. “See you in the morning.” Twisting the key, she opened her door and started through it. Lamplight from inside the room skimmed her tempting silhouette.
He was pushed beyond reason into a world of primitive needs. Even as unprepared as he was, he couldn’t let her go. “Wait.”
She turned and peered up at him. “Finn, are you okay?”
“No.” His voice rasped in the stillness.
“What’s the matter?”
“I...” He stopped to clear the huskiness from his throat. “I want you so much I can’t breathe.”
“Oh.” Her beautiful mouth curved in a smile and she stepped back from the door. “Would you like to come in?”
“God, yes, but I...I didn’t anticipate this.”
“I’m sure you didn’t.”
Hope dawned. “Did you?”
“No, of course not.”
He groaned. “Then we can’t—”
“Maybe not that, but there are alternatives.”
Alternatives. The word stood out in flashing neon in his frazzled brain.
Curling her fingers into the front of his shirt, she pulled him slowly inside her room. “You haven’t dated since Alison. I haven’t dated since I asked you out. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Swallowing, he nodded.
“Good.” She took off his hat and laid it on the dresser. “Because I can hardly wait to get my hands on you, Finn O’Roarke.”
He had the presence of mind to kick the door shut before his brain shut down completely.
4
CHELSEA HAD TRIED to be good. She really had tried, except for her earlier remark about the foot rub. When they’d had their hot moment on the dance floor, she hadn’t teased him about the hard ridge she’d felt pressed against her belly before he’d backed away.
He wanted to keep his distance, and she had vowed to honor that. She would have suffered the cold air on the walk home in silence because it was her own fault
for not bringing a jacket. But then he’d wrapped his arm around her. The moment she’d felt his touch and the delicious heat of his body, a fantasy movie had started rolling in her head.
And now—against all odds—fantasy had become reality. Flattening her palms against his chest, she absorbed the wild beating of his heart as he combed his fingers through her hair and tilted her head back. His gaze moved hungrily over her face and settled on her mouth. He groaned. “Chelsea...” And then he was there, his velvet lips covering hers.
At last. Joy surged through her at the urgent pressure of his mouth and the deliberate thrust of his tongue. Oh, yes, this was good, and right, and ahhh...he could kiss better than any man she’d ever known.
He angled his head and went deeper, inspiring shocking thoughts about where else she wanted that talented mouth. He obviously knew what she’d meant when she’d suggested alternatives. They had all night, but that didn’t mean they shouldn’t get started on that program ASAP.
She wrenched apart the snaps of his shirt, desperate to touch him. When she laid both hands against his muscled chest and stroked him there, he shuddered and lifted his mouth from hers. “I’m going crazy.” He gulped for air. “I have zero control.”
“That’s okay.” Pulse hammering, she slid her hand down to his zipper. Oh, my. What she’d felt on the dance floor had been a mere prelude. “I’ll just—”
“No, it’s not okay.” He caught her hand and brought it up to his mouth. His breathing ragged, he kissed her fingertips one by one. “We’re changing focus.”
“To what?”
His blue eyes glowed with intensity. “You.”
She gasped as a fresh wave of lust crashed over her. Her attention shifted to his mouth and her imagination kicked into high gear. She began to tremble. “I could live with that.”
His soft laughter gave her goose bumps. “Ah, Chels. You’re one of a kind.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
He held her gaze. “I never have.” Then he stepped back and looked her up and down, as if evaluating his next move. His attention settled on the belt circling her hips. “How does that come off?”