Tiger Lily

by May Dawson

  “You were so annoyed when you thought I was being nice to you,” I said.

  She didn’t deny it, but she took a long sip of her tea, looking at me over the straw. She set the glass down, the ice cubes tinkling. “I know. It’s not fair—you’re always nice.”

  I asked, “Were you mad because of how your last job ended?”

  “Maybe I’m just mad all the time,” she said tartly.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t know me, Dylan.”

  “Don’t I?” I leaned back in my chair, studying her.

  She flashed me a look that was half-exasperated, but all sexy. “Do you still have a million female admirers?”

  “A million? That’s ridiculous.” I waited until she was taking a sip from her drink, and I said, “There aren’t even a million females in Silver Springs.”

  She almost spewed her iced tea across the table, then covered her laugh with her slender fingers. “You’re supposed to pretend to be modest, you know.’

  I shrugged. “What you see is what you get with me.”

  “That’s a lie. You’re a shifter. The guy with the six-pack abs and the pretty eyes is not all you get.”

  Her cheeks flushed as soon as she’d finished her sentence.

  “Is that what you see when you look at me?” I asked.

  She rolled her eyes. “Not that anyone needed to inflate your ego.”

  “That doesn’t inflate my ego, Lily. I wish you’d see a little more than that.” I couldn’t help frowning.

  “I don’t want to fight,” she said.

  “Yeah, okay. Ready to go?”

  She nodded, and as she rose, she bit her lower lip as if she were trying to keep her mouth shut.

  I had the feeling this conversation wasn’t going quite the way she wanted it to either, and I wished I knew how to get back to how comfortable things had felt earlier, when we were joking around What could I say?

  As we stepped back outside into the sunshine, I asked, “So how come we never dated in high school?”

  She laughed out loud.

  That question was probably not the right approach to making things comfortable.

  “Are you really asking me that?” She turned on the sidewalk to face me, trying to tuck her wayward curls behind her ears, but they just kept springing back into place. “Are you kidding me?”

  “I’m really asking, and I’d never be kitten you about something so important as our shared trainwreck of a history.”

  She raised an eyebrow. Lily was not a fan of puns, and she was especially not a fan of cat-puns, but I couldn’t resist. I loved puns.

  “Well, for one you never asked me.” She hooked her hand idly over my forearm as we walked, the two of us swaying close together. “For two, you were always surrounded by girls. You were way out of my league.”

  I scoffed. “Please. I thought you were out of my league.”

  “What?” She laughed, crinkling her nose as she gazed up at me. “Everyone loves you. And I’m…”

  “You’re what?” I asked, and my voice came out fiercer than I expected.

  She shrugged. “I’m just…Lily. Everyone always likes you; you’ve never met a stranger. I don’t have that easy lovability that you have. I’m…prickly.”

  “Bullshit,” I said.

  “You were popular in high school. I was bullied,” she reminded me. “Polar opposites.”

  “By who?” High school might be long over, but I’d be happy to go have words with some people.

  She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now. It didn’t last long, because you and Blake—” She glanced away, as if it bothered her to remember it.

  “High school was a long time ago, Lily.” Even if I was ready to chase down whoever hurt her.

  “I know. Never mind… I don’t even know what I was trying to say.” She seemed as if she wanted to give up on this conversation, but I wanted to know how she felt.

  We came to a stop in the parking lot of Hot Wheels. She was still toying with her curls as she took a step back toward the open bay door behind her, as if she were about to turn and flee.

  “I think you were saying that a string of bad lucks and jerks convinced you that there was something wrong with you.”

  Her chin jerked up, her lips parting. Our gazes locked.

  Maybe that was too blunt.

  “It’s bullshit,” I went on, because I couldn’t stop myself.

  “You don’t know me,” she said carefully. “If you did, you might realize…you might be disappointed to find…”

  “I might realize that you’re the same girl I’ve always had a thing for, even though we’ve both grown up a little?” I leaned toward her, bracing one arm above her shoulder on the white cinder blocks.

  She looked up at me, biting her lip again, but this time it just drew my gaze to the sweet pronounced bow, the adorably rounded lower lip. She had the most kissable mouth I’d ever seen.

  I added, “Or maybe…I might be disappointed to find that you’re a terrible kisser?”

  Her eyes widened. “Excuse me? I am not—”

  I leaned in and brushed my lips against hers. They were as soft as they looked, cool to the touch. She still tasted like the lemon from her iced tea that she’d nibbled on at the end of our meal.

  She froze. Just for a second.

  Then she grabbed my shoulders, kissing me back. Her mouth parted, her fingers clinging to my shoulders as her slender body swayed against mine. As her warm, soft body pressed against mine, my arm circled her waist, drawing her even closer. Even when she was yelling at me, the sight and scent and sound of her voice aroused me, but now there was no denying it; my cock hardened as it brushed against her lower abs.

  But Lily didn’t seem to notice, or if she did, she liked it. The tip of her tongue danced against mine. I knew we should slow down, but my instincts said I should turn her around against the cinder block wall, cover her neck with kisses, run my hands down her curves… and she looked up at me with luminous, hungry eyes as if she’d like that too.

  Mine. She was mine.

  But I didn’t dare say that to her yet, so I just kissed her again.

  A car horn blared on the street.

  Her eyes widened, then she suddenly pulled away from me, her hands dropping to her sides. She let out a shaky laugh as she tucked her hair behind her ears, plastering it to her head as if she needed something to do with her hands—something besides touching me. “What was that?”

  “That was proof you’re not a bad kisser,” I said.

  “I—” She shook her head as she headed toward the door to the lobby, as if she was coming out of a dream. “I’m a mess, Dylan, and you shouldn’t get involved with me.”

  “You’re wrong,” I said.

  She stopped, half-in and half-out of the lobby. “I want you to keep thinking that. I don’t want you to get close enough to realize how true it is.”

  Then she slammed the door shut behind her so she could get the last word. So she still played that game, huh?

  I rubbed the back of my neck with one hand, feeling exasperated with myself. No matter how much she might tease me about my female admirers, I felt like I always said the wrong thing with her.

  “What was that all about?” Blake demanded, stepping out of the bay. He didn’t wait for my answer before he plunged on: “Dylan, I was thinking while you were out. We’re her bosses.”

  “I don’t think anyone is the boss of Lily,” I disagreed.

  “We shouldn’t be kissing her,” he said. “What if it makes her feel weird about working here? The most important thing is that she feels safe and happy in Silver Springs again.”

  Blake chewed his lower lip. The expression across his face was all stubborn and protective before he added, “I don’t want us to ruin things here for her. I don’t want her to run back to the city.”

  I scoffed at that. We weren’t going to scare her off—Lily was tough.

  And sooner or later, she had to real
ize that Silver Springs was right where she belonged.

  “Oh, I’m going to do a lot more than kiss her,” I said. “I’m going to marry that girl.”

  10

  Lily

  “Let’s take a look at your grandpa’s car,” Blake told me. “I figured long-term, you might join us in the auto bay as a mechanic, if you enjoy messing with cars.”

  I scoffed at that. “Right.”

  He frowned, running his hand through his hair. I wished he wouldn’t do that—he might get grease in his hair.

  But he looked damn sexy either way.

  “I’m not kidding,” he said simply. “But I know you might not want to stay in Silver Springs.”

  He turned and headed for my grandfather’s car. I found myself wondering why I’d dismissed him. I didn’t necessarily want to run right out of Silver Springs.

  But I assumed the guys would want me to work the reception desk forever. I didn’t know anything about cars and…well, the truth was, Brad said I couldn’t even be trusted to put together Ikea furniture. He’d said it fondly enough—everyone has their strengths and weaknesses—and there was a permanently crooked bookcase back in our apartment that suggested he might be right.

  I didn’t know why Blake would assume I was good enough to be a mechanic, whether or not I enjoyed it. Something about the expectation made me mad. I would disappoint him, and that would feel terrible.

  He stopped at the front of the car and turned back to me. “You coming?”

  He had a definite tone. It immediately put my back up.

  “I actually should probably fix the filing,” I said, jerking my thumb toward the office. “It’s a wreck. And I don’t know anything about cars, but I know a lot about filing.”

  He frowned, then called over to Dylan, “Hey, did you tell Lily she’d fix the car herself, with our help?”

  “Yep.” Dylan said, his voice muffled.

  Blake looked back at me and shrugged. “I guess the filing will wait.”

  “Blake,” I said. “I don’t want to.”

  “She did,” Dylan said, still muffed. “I bet she still does. She’s just being weird, like she is sometimes.”

  Yeah, these guys were cute, but I didn’t need them to speak for me. I kicked the bumper of the car he was working on. “I’m not talking to you.” I told Dylan, then turned to Blake. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t want to anymore.”

  “Man, it sucks how when you’re at work, sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to do.” Blake raised a finger, beckoning me over. “Any day, pussy cat.”

  I pulled a face, but stormed over to join him at the edge of my grandfather’s car.

  He walked me through the parts of the engine. Blake came alive when he was talking about cars, or maybe when he was teaching—it was hard to tell. His low, sexy voice was lively, and his energy was infectious. I felt my mood lift, even though I pulled a face when he started to quiz me to make sure I remembered.

  “Ah, shoot,” I said, correcting myself as soon as I said the wrong thing. “That’s not the catalytic converter. It’s the…the...”

  I looked to his face to find Blake frowning, and my stomach dropped.

  “I told you I don’t know anything about cars,” I said tartly.

  “I know you didn’t this morning,” he said. “You rattled through two dozen parts and what they do. So why do you sound so annoyed at yourself for forgetting one?”

  “I’m always annoyed, remember?” I shot back.

  “You could take it a little easier on yourself,” he said.

  “Is taking unsolicited advice from your boss also part of the job?”

  He stared at me, unblinking.

  Damn. Had I just gone too far? My sharp tongue tended to move faster than my brain. I thought that my last year at that terrible job had curbed my temper. I couldn’t be too smart-mouthed at that office. Jonathan had given me plenty of cause for sarcasm, and I’d resisted. But being face-to-face with bossy Blake brought my temper back into full flare.

  His lips curled up into a smile, though. “Yeah, I’m going to write it into your job description, actually. Must not be a dick to self or others.”

  I rolled my eyes. Something about Blake’s unshakeable calm was both comforting and irritating. Since we were kids, it felt like I was fire and he was ice—he was always amused by my temper, teasing me to make me furious, then not even mad when I clawed back at him.

  “You haven’t changed much since we were kids,” I said.

  He nodded. “Maybe not.”

  Then, as if he weren’t interested in revisiting our past—as if he weren’t interested at all in flirting with me—he stepped over to the wall and nudged one of the rolling boards over to me with his foot. “Come on. We’re going under the car.”

  “What’s wrong with it?” I asked.

  “You’re going to tell me, Tiger,” he said.

  Of course. I lay down on my back on the board and shoved under the car. I wondered how he decided when to call me Tiger and when to call me Pussy cat—and which one was more annoying.

  But I forgot as soon as we rolled beneath the car. We repeated the same game, him telling me which parts were which, then quizzing me. He gave me a delighted grin when I got all the answers right. As if I’d done something that was a big deal, instead of just parroting it all back to him.

  It felt intimate underneath the car, just the two of us. He dug his heels into the ground, starting to pull himself back out, but I didn’t want him to go. I liked the way he’d been looking at me.

  “Why do you call me Pussy Cat now?” I asked suddenly.

  He hesitated, then pushed himself back under the car. “I’m just teasing.”

  “You always liked to tease me,” I said, my voice coming out more tart than I meant it too. “Even if you did threaten to kick other people’s asses if they teased me.”

  When we’d started high school together, I’d found myself in a circle of frenemies, textbook mean girls, and a couple of d-bag guys with an elaborate ranking system for girls. Blake had bulled into the middle of the complex social dynamics of high school with his usual intensity and loyalty. He’d threatened to hurt any guy involved. I knew Blake would never hit a girl, but he’d glared at the mean girls that plagued me in a way that was quite terrifying anyway.

  “Only if they were…” His bright eyes met mine. “I never meant to hurt you when I teased you, Lily. Still don’t. Sorry if you didn’t like it—I’ll stop.”

  Lily.

  When he was suddenly so serious, I missed the teasing nicknames on his lips.

  But I don’t know how to tell him that.

  I shook my head. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad for sticking up for me in high school. It was weird.”

  I meant nice. It was nice he used to stick up for me. So why did I just say weird?

  His lips pursed to one side. “Well, I can be pretty weird. And so can you. So I guess we should be weird together. Friends?”

  Some of the tension in my chest unspooled at that gentle teasing. The small smile on his lips, those chiseled cheekbones, the bright eyes—he was magnetic. I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

  I wanted to say something more to him, to make up for the blundering way I’d just talked to him, but he was already sliding out from underneath the car. Disappointment tightened my chest. I liked being down here with him.

  He was a lot faster on that board than I was, and by the time I’d dug my heels into the concrete and pulled myself out, he was standing. He loomed above me, his board gripped in one hand and the other outstretched to help me up.

  “Come on, school’s not out,” he said, as I gripped his hand. He pulled me easily to my feet, as if my weight was nothing to him.

  I wanted to talk to him more—to make up for all the stupid things I’d said. Even though part of me was afraid I’d just say more stupid things. I couldn’t seem to string two words together when he was around me.

  At least, I couldn’t strin
g two nice words together.

  “You know,” I said, “a lot has changed in Silver Springs the past few years that I’ve been gone. Maybe you could show me around?”

  My heart was beating fast in my chest. It might seem like nothing, but it was a big deal to me to suggest that we spend more time together.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’d like that.”

  He stared into my eyes intently, as if I were as magnetic to him as he was to me.

  Then, he pulled back a step, dragging his hand from mine. He shook his head, almost as if he were clearing it.

  “We can keep it professional,” he said lightly.

  My heart stumbled and went down like a clown on a banana peel.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Of course. You’re the boss.”

  “Never thought I’d hear you say that.” His tone might have been teasing, like usual, but he didn’t smile.

  Maybe I could run away from home. Because right now, I definitely didn’t want to go home to my grandfather, who would pry mercilessly into my love life, then show up for work tomorrow. Not after Blake rejected me.

  I’d moved to the city for a reason. I still had an apartment there: a mailbox with my name. A little garden in potted plants on the balcony—the closest I could get to some wilderness. I liked to sit out there in the late afternoon when the sunshine pooled on the balcony. I’d close my eyes and feel the warmth on my face and breathe in the scent of growing green things.

  “Speaking of showing you around Silver Springs.” Archer suddenly walked over, propping his elbow on Blake’s shoulder. He flashed me a smile. “Can I take you out tonight, Lily?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Great. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  Archer walked away.

  Blake stared at me with an expression on his face that I couldn’t read, but it made my heart beat faster all over again.

  Then he said, his voice level, “All right, let’s work on an easy step in diagnostics. We’re going to check…”

  I glanced at Archer’s back, then swallowed and tried to focus.

  Even though my brain felt scrambled around these guys.