Sidewalk Flower

by Carlene Love Flores

  “Sure.” She didn’t like not knowing what had turned him down into this less amiable version of himself.

  She pressed the stereo’s seek button, looking for a CD to ride comfortably with until they reached the town of Shawnee. Not feeling in sync with the first selection, she hit next. The deep male voice joined the drum and guitar that she loved. She remembered the night Jaxon had written this one. They had still been roommates at the time. She missed him.

  * * * *

  Lucky straightened in his seat. He didn’t blame her for the earlier slip. The way she had sighed and then bitten her lip, Oh, Jaxon, coming out in her soft spoken tone. But her two small words left him wondering if she wished he hadn’t come along.

  There was something in Oklahoma that she refused to discuss. Even after speaking freely on other subjects, she had failed to explain what exactly was happening tomorrow. She hadn’t invited him to come along and he knew that whatever it was, Jaxon was originally supposed to have gone with her. The time he’d brought it up, she automatically began rubbing her wrist into her leg. And the time he had asked her about going to live with her gramma, she’d done the same thing. It seemed to be an involuntary reaction of hers. He wanted to help her but she would have to be honest about her feelings for his cousin.

  Her eyes closed while they made haste through the roadside rural towns. Trista began to sing the chorus of a song he had never heard but one she obviously knew by heart. He wished he could forget about the road long enough to sneak a peek at how she looked singing.

  Probably adorable and every bit as beautiful as the night he had walked up to her Jeep, knowing instantly she was there to pick him up. The way his heart had drummed in his chest when he realized how lucky he was to be on the road with her. But how restrained he’d have to be in light of all that.

  But he couldn’t compete with a rock star. He was just a country boy who made wooden furniture. A guy who lived in a small house on his dad’s land. If Jaxon held her somewhere inside where even she didn’t realize, what were his chances with a girl like Trista? He was clearly not in this for just one night and he clearly had to make something of this trip because he had a feeling someone was going to need him, even if she refused to see it.

  Chapter Five

  “Lucky, Lucky, we’re here,” Trista whispered, leaning close to his ear.

  “Wha—? Where?”

  “Shawnee, Oklahoma. The hotel. We’re here.”

  “Okay.” His voice sounded gruff as he coughed out the single word reply.

  A couple hours ago he’d started rubber-necking it and she’d threatened to toss his bag out the window if he didn’t switch back with her and let her drive. She thought he’d be glad her lead foot and the ear-splitting metal rock had not only served to keep her awake but had gotten them here in one piece. Unfortunately, it seemed to have kept Lucky up too. He had flinched each time she hit a bump in the asphalt or drove the tires too close to the raised grating on the side of the freeway, proving he’d never quite made it to sleep. Now, as he unfolded himself and stepped out of the Jeep, she smiled apologetically as she left him to check them in.

  When she came back, his body was overloaded with all their bags. “Thanks for getting that. Here, let me get mine from you. We’re upstairs.”

  She extended a hand but he answered her brusquely. “That’s okay, I’ve got it.”

  He was obviously tired and for the first time—grumpy. She blew it off. It was nothing compared to the hollering that tore through the slim aisle of Sin Pointe’s private jet whenever she failed to keep the blackout shades completely closed.

  The thought reminded her that in a few short weeks, she’d be back on the road with them touring for their new album. Although from where she was tonight, it seemed incredibly distant. She led Lucky to the elevators.

  “This is us. I hope you don’t mind but I just got the one room.”

  Lucky’s shoulders popped back like he’d just had his posture corrected by a cotillion teacher. “No, I don’t mind. Are you sure about that though?” he asked.

  “Yes. Very.” Hopefully soon, Lucky would believe her when she said that compared to her perverted friends in Cali, he was no threat, whatsoever. She slid the key card into the slot until the green light appeared.

  When she had the door opened and then flicked on the light, she cursed.

  “What’s wrong?” Lucky stepped inside and closed the door behind him after setting their bags close to the cooling unit.

  “I swear to you, I asked for two beds.”

  She waved her hands over the space in front of them where only one queen-size ensemble stood.

  Well, somebody was awake now. He coughed then said, “I believe you. It’s okay; I can sleep on the couch.”

  They looked over to it together. If Trista sat down and stretched her legs out, they would hang over the other end at mid-calf. And she was only five-feet-four inches tall.

  “That won’t be necessary, Lucky. It would be very funny, but no.”

  “Well, I don’t want you to have to sleep there either,” he said.

  She picked up on the suggestion in his voice right away. If only he knew she had no intentions of either of them bunking down on the little couch.

  Looking at his plentiful arms, she couldn’t help but rub hers and wonder what it would feel like to be wrapped up in something so warm and wholesome. Even just for the night. Especially this night. She leaned her upper torso a little to the right and let her neck roll slightly to the back. The stretch felt good as she tried to release the pent up stress squeezing her muscles. Biting her bottom lip and then letting it ease back to its natural place, she made him an offer. “I wouldn’t mind sharing the bed, if you’re okay with that.”

  His answer was to step closer and take over the attempted warming of her arms. “You’re cold. They keep this place like a freezer.” And then he let out a big breath. And swallowed.

  Was he avoiding her offer? She warmed at his old-fashioned charm but desired the passionate kisser that he seemed to be keeping at bay.

  “These places are always like this.” She glanced up, hoping to catch his handsome face in a smile but instead, found him frowning. She hadn’t meant to remind him how often she’d been in hotel rooms but it appeared that’s exactly what she’d done.

  “Here,” he said, his voice so smooth and low she could taste him like she could taste rich, velvety dark chocolate if she thought about it long enough.

  She wondered what he was about to offer when to her extreme surprise, he undid the red pearl buttons of his western shirt, letting it slide off his long-limbed body with the unexpected grace of a dancer. Oh no. She meant oh yes, but knew oh no was the correct response. Quickly, he wrapped it around the back of her shoulders and gathered it at the front, holding it closed with his hands.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, appreciative of the gesture. Not only for the instant heat his body had lent to the fibers in the fabric but also because she could finally appreciate the tanned skin of his chest, now that they were alone.

  Alone. Together. A crazy need twisted its way through her jaded heart. A touch from someone good. Enough to warm and calm her for the night and propel her through tomorrow. That’s all she was asking. But Lucky wouldn’t be easy to convince, she already knew that much. And although it would probably do the trick, she wasn’t willing to show him how much she needed it. A sigh crept out as she gave up on the pointless idea.

  Lucky kept hold of the shirt gathered in his fingers in front of her. Would he let it loose already so she could get on with the night alone? She eyed one far corner of the bed. But she was still cold to the touch and he voiced his concern.

  “Would you like me to raise the thermostat?” he asked.

  “No, it’s okay. I’m fine.”

  But she wasn’t. She was starting to shiver. Lucky pulled her into his bare but heated chest and wrapped his arms around her back. She could have cried right there.

  “Hey, you’re sha
king—a lot.” His squeeze felt like a magical protective cloak from everything bad in the world as it tightened around her. “Listen darlin’, all the things we’ve been talking about...I meant it when I said I respect you. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. You know that right?”

  “You don’t, Lucky. If anything, you make me—happy—and very unladylike in my thoughts.”

  He smiled and pulled her into him even more. His torso was strong, his skin soft but taut. When her chest touched against his stomach and her hips rested at his groin, she knew it would be mere seconds until he’d step back, realizing how close they’d become. While it didn’t come from her heart, she went ahead and started to pull away first. This had to be uncomfortable for him and she owed him some gratitude for the kindness he’d already gushed onto her. But in the next moment, his lips slowly came down onto hers, deepening with each step he took toward the bed. Surely Lucky wouldn’t want a kiss this amazing to end either. When the backs of her weak knees met up with the mattress, she knew he would decide one way or the other. She ran her tongue along his lower lip, hoping she tasted as irresistible to him as he did to her.

  * * * *

  It took Lucky a minute to recover from the inferno Trista’s tongue had started in his blood. He pulled down the fancy maroon comforter along with a red wool blanket and a crisp white sheet so he could help Trista into bed like he’d planned before he’d lost it and kissed her just now.

  Lord help him because she was something special. He knew it already. How many hours driving through pitch dark Arkansas had he spent being both thankful and sorry for the way she made him feel? Asking for enough strength to keep his will solid. To do right by her. Finding the perfect timber for his specialty hand carved pieces of furniture took longer than three days. Yet he’d found this woman over the weekend and she’d already driven him half crazy and completely enamored all at once. He had to find a way to slow their pace though. Trista had said more than once that she appreciated his goodness. He understood she meant the way he hadn’t taken advantage of her like most other guys.

  He swept a hand over the area where he intended to lay her down and decided it felt too much like an ice pack to be soothing. He moved the sheet and blanket back into place, feeling her body weight deepen into his hold. Her face scrunched into the cutest frown so he explained, “It hasn’t had the heat of any bodies in it yet to knock off the chill.”

  Trista’s mouth settled in an “oh”. She must be thinking the same as him after what he’d just said. Best I hold you while we lay down and warm it up. Her tiring eyes were on him as he stood there with her at the edge of the cold bed; through all the past few days’ bravado, she looked weary now. Keeping his priorities straight with such sad and deep eyes touching his heart was going to require a strength he prayed he had. Promises to Jaxon, focus needed for his upcoming business negotiations, promises he’d made to himself, not to mention God and Gramma Grace—none of them felt as important as helping this hurt young woman right now. She reached for his hand and he realized he’d do whatever he could then answer to everyone else later. He watched her watch him, as he slid down onto the mattress, making like a shield to the ice for her.

  * * * *

  Lucky’s dark jeans held tenderly low to those narrow hips of his she’d dreamed of tasting earlier as he lay down.

  Was he okay?

  She was exhausted but didn’t feel faint or hallucinatory. It took a ton of will to pull her eyes from the captivating way his belly button peeked out from the comforter pulled up to just below his waist.

  For a split second she considered the couch. Then the spot beside him. Then the couch.

  “Trista?” He pulled her hand so that her will-less body had no choice but to follow. She conservatively sat down at his side, still unsure of what he was willing to do, and then he spoke again. “You know, I’ve never met a woman with your confidence. Your feelings don’t get hurt very easily and the way you tease me, it’s refreshing. You’re not fake—”

  “You’re being way too nice, Lucky,” she managed to let out in a husky, breathy voice. She slid the hand bearing most of her weight under the covers until she felt his warm side.

  “No, I know you’re not perfect. None of us are, but I want you to know I’m glad you’re showing me the real you.” He touched her face gently but it scorched her all the same. “Come here, lay down with me.”

  Surely she was dehydrated and in need of water. But no, he really had just scooted over and made sure the area he’d been laying on had warmed enough for her. A true invitation to join him in the bed.

  She waited for a moment, memorizing the way he looked at her. Sincere and kind, his turquoise blue eyes stayed locked on her.

  Out of habit, she slipped her dress over her head. His head fell back into the pillow just enough to elongate his thick neck and scrumptious throat when she realized she was standing in front of him in nothing but her bra and panties. She let the dress fall to the floor alongside Lucky’s shirt then slowly climbed in beside him, feeling sexy and feminine under his gaze. She instantly enjoyed his warmth and he smiled, covering her all the way up to her neck with the comforter.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi, darlin’.”

  Lucky held her face in his two capable hands as they lay side by side.

  While she wished for his kiss, wonder filled her at the way he continued to pet her cheek bones and the tops of her ears, the rim of her jaw.

  Her dark heart softened at his tenderness but there was no denying the spasms coursing through the rest of her body, leaving her all achy and wet for him. She wanted Lucky to know he didn’t have to hold back on account of no-good manners. Finding the elastic holding his ponytail, she tugged it loose. Her fingers fanned through his hair, mussing it up and giving him the appearance of a sexy golden angel who would make some seriously good love to her if they could just get that far.

  Mmm, his thick, lush waves were longer than she realized as they fell against his stubbled cheek. He had appeared clean-shaven that morning but his whiskers had come back in already and all she could think of was how wonderful it would feel for the parts of her that were rarely touched to be scraped by them. Fascinated by his body hair, she wondered what she’d find if she slid her hands down that trail on his trim, tanned belly and into his jeans. Would her fingers tangle in a thick, course patch or would they glide through, letting her easily find her way to the bulge she’d seen growing in his pants? Her female yearnings for a man’s man, someone rugged and tough enough to deal with her and her world, were fully awake now.

  Burning up for the chance to touch more of Lucky, she pulled a wavy lock away from his face and trailed it down, wrapped between her first two fingers, until it sprang free. Had it not bounced back, it would have lay resting just below his shoulders she was now holding. She had become so enamored of it that his long-awaited kiss landing on her mouth made her grab at his shoulders and dig her nails into his heated flesh. He smiled. And then continued taking his time. The way he used his tongue so seductively in her mouth, she knew it was his way, a man’s way, of showing he would be equally capable in other places should she allow him. Could she raise her hand now and tell him she was so very agreeable to that?

  She could taste the Coca-Cola holding fast to his taste buds. And the Tic-Tac he had sucked on when she had first woken him up at their arrival in Shawnee. She wondered if their road trip could be considered dates one through three.

  She’d been vaguely aware of callused hands rounding over her shoulders then delivering soft squeezes to her tense upper arms. When he gripped her at the top of her rib cage, pressing into her skin as he slid his hands down to the curve of her waist and then back out to her hips, she knew exactly what he intended to do. She wanted it too.

  “You’re so soft, but tense. I could spend hours just caressing you here. Is this helping?”

  Trista Hart would have loved to have pushed out a “Yeah baby, that’s just right.” But all she could ma
nage was a nod as he continued stroking the skin between her hip and butt.

  At that, Lucky rolled her over onto her belly and began rubbing her achy, stiff back. His pressing released pain at first and then melted her muscles into goo. She felt his huge erection that was trapped by his jeans, rub against her skin, reminding her he was still clothed while she lay there so close to him, in nothing but her bra and panties. Trying to give him the hint that he might take them off, she angled a hip in the direction of one of his long legs and then searched for his pant leg with her toes. But the action only seemed to slow him down.

  She counted each exhale that passed as his hands remained motionless on her back. After seven breaths, she rolled herself over to examine why he’d stopped.

  “Hey.”

  At first he only nodded in response. “This is pretty,” he said as he brushed his finger over a tiny bow on the shoulder of her bra strap and then settled his hands back on his lap.

  Paying her lingerie the compliment looked to have embarrassed him, making his face flush.

  “Thank you.” She thought he might reach behind her and undo the clasp but he didn’t. Neither did he slide his fingers beneath the lacy material. Instead he trailed them down the middle of her abdomen, down to her belly button giving her the shivers. It was there that he paused to splay his four fingers and his thumb widely. They were so long that they nearly reached from one side of her waist to the other.

  Holy hell. She wanted him, bad. How could he be so manly yet so noble? Around him, she felt feminine, even under her loose frock and shameless speech. Lucky could hold her in the palm of his hand, if he wanted to.

  But did he?

  Could she coax him into touching her some more with those fingers that had just shown her their vast difference in size? Could he handle knowing how many times in the last seconds she’d pictured him dipping his fingers one by one inside her and then bringing them to his mouth for a taste? If she wanted this fantasy to be real, she’d better give it a try.