by Tessa Layne
“Fine,” he echoed, mouth twitching.
“Are you laughing at me?”
“Not at all,” he deadpanned.
He was totally laughing at her, although for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why. “This isn’t a date. It’s… professional courtesy.”
He nodded slowly, mouth still twitching. “Of course.”
She fixated on his mouth, there was no looking away. And even though the arena was crowded and she’d be the subject of gossip for the next six weeks, at least, Lexi couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to kiss him again. Sober. So she could remember it this time in exquisite detail.
“Lexi?” His voice held barely contained laughter. “You’re staring.”
She shut her eyes and drew in a breath before she opened them again. “So I am,” she said, raising her eyes to his, unapologetic. Let him wonder what she was staring at.
He moved closer, lowering his head. Lexi’s stomach yo-yoed. He was going to kiss her. In front of God and everyone. The lawyer in her might still be resisting, but the rest of her wasn’t. Every cell in her body lurched forward to meet him. She’d dreamed about this kiss for months. Her eyes fluttered. She held her breath and waited.
And waited.
The warm breath of his chuckle skated across her neck. “I’m looking forward to our, er… professional dinner, then.”
Her eyes flew open, heat flashing through her like a wildfire. Her cheeks flamed. He’d played her like a fucking fiddle. Ooh, the nerve of him. She let out a little huff. “Don’t be late,” she said, every word clipped. She spun away, too embarrassed to stick around the wake. The only thing that would calm her down was a long ride out with Oreo.
Chapter Eleven
Jarrod drummed his fingers on the table in the far corner of Gino’s Trattoria. It was empty tonight, probably because of the afternoon’s wake. Food and booze had been liberally distributed — wine from the local vineyard across the road from the Hansens and Sinclaires, beer from some guy named Mike McSomethingorother. It had nearly killed him, but Jarrod had refrained from gorging on his sister’s food. He even refused a slice of Dottie’s pie. But now Lexi was fifteen minutes late. Surely she wouldn’t stand him up? That wasn’t her style. He’d always seen her as a woman of her word. But maybe that’s because he was looking for it, hoping for it. She might label it a ‘professional dinner’, but to him, it was anything but.
In fact, he suspected it was anything but that for her, too. Right before she’d fled the wake, she’d looked at him with such heat in her eyes, he’d become instantly aroused. He’d nearly kissed her, but then didn’t at the last minute. He’d wanted to, desperately. But yanking her chain was more satisfying. And he’d never dream of kissing her in public in front of her family and friends, when they weren’t even dating. They weren’t even a thing. He suspected that although Lexi had only sisters, there were plenty of young men willing to step up and defend her honor, and he didn’t want to piss anyone off. Not after the conversation he’d had with Wilson Watson’s oldest son, Marshall. Not when there was an outside chance he could contribute to the community in a meaningful way.
Jarrod looked up in time to see Lexi rushing through the door. With a whoosh, his body released the coil of tension knotting his midsection, even as his breath stuck in his throat. Lexi moved with captivating ease. She was wearing the same outfit she’d worn to the wake, soft denim jeans that hugged her curves, and a pale pink plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Fuck-me red boots peeked out from the hem of her jeans. Her hair fell in waves below her shoulders, just like the day of her sister’s wedding. In short, she was breathtaking. And he loved seeing the softer side of her, knowing the ball-buster dwelled just underneath the surface. Lexi was an exercise in contrasts, for sure.
He stood, pulling out the chair next to him, and motioned for her to join him. “Thank you for coming,” he said formally, as if it were a business meeting, even as he poked at her by dropping a kiss to her cheek. He couldn’t resist. His lips tingled from the contact with her satin cheek. “Wine?” he asked when they were both seated.
She eyed the open bottle. “Only this one bottle,” she unwrapped the silverware and placed the red-checkered napkin in her lap. “And no dirty limericks.”
“Not a one,” he answered solemnly. “I promise.” He poured her a glass. “It’s Chianti. Do you like Chianti?”
“Chianti’s perfect,” she said without a hint of sarcasm.
“I think so, too. Especially at a place like this. But tell me, what should I order?”
“Well, all the pasta is made by hand, and the sauces are family recipes. So you can’t really go wrong. I always order the ravioli.”
“Then that’s what I’ll have, too.”
She smiled at him — genuinely — and his heart tripped over itself. “Are you sure? I could be yanking your chain.”
“But you’re not. I can tell.”
“Is that so?”
“It is.” Jarrod drummed his fingers on the table, debating whether or not to tell her more. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt, disclosing how closely he’d observed her in court. He’d just leave out the part about how he’d used that to his advantage. Any opposing counsel would have done the same. “You’re relaxed. Your mouth is soft. When you’re hedging, your face tightens, and your left eye squints a little.”
Lexi’s eyes widened. “And you know this, how?” she asked a little sharply.
Jarrod leaned in. “I always pay attention to my opposing counsel’s body language.” Let her interpret that however she wanted. He’d keep to himself how he imagined the kind of lacy underwear that might be underneath her perfectly tailored suits, and how his fantasies involved slowly removing said underwear.
Lexi sat back, and took a sip of her wine. “Huh.” She took another sip and shook her head. “I suppose I should be creeped out…” She shot him a sheepish smile. “If I hadn’t done the same thing. Your nose flares when you’re bullshitting the judge.”
Now it was his turn to be floored. “Really?”
She nodded with a self-satisfied smile.
“I’m impressed.”
“Why, because you’re not the only lawyer to invent the wheel?”
“Because most lawyers your age haven’t figured out how much you learn by observing.”
She rolled her eyes. “Now you’re playing the age card? Lemme guess. Are you going to play the dick card next? Tell me that men are better at this game than women?”
“I’m not a sexist.”
“The evidence says otherwise,” she challenged. “And if that’s what you truly think, that you’re better because you’re older, because you have a dick?” Her eyes flashed with indignation. “Tell me now so I can leave before we order.”
Damn, but he loved her fire. “I apologize. I underestimated you, that’s all.”
“Damn straight you did.” She refilled her glass. “I may have lost a case to you, but nobody has a perfect record.”
“Except me,” he couldn’t resist pointing out.
“It’s a good thing you’re headed back to D.C., because if you stuck around here, I’d have to make certain you lost at something.”
He couldn’t help the slow smile that broke across his face. “Is that a challenge… Lexi?” He hesitated to drop into her nickname, even though everyone in town seemed to refer to her as Lexi and not Alexis. That said, he liked how her nickname felt on his tongue.
She gave him a smile reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat. “Let’s just say, you can go home to D.C. and rest on your laurels. I won’t begrudge you that.”
“But if I were staying?”
Her gaze turned sharp, suspicious. “But you’re not. Are you?” she added after a pause.
He returned her catlike smile, and opened his hands. “I might be.”
The look on her face was priceless. “Why?”
“Why not?”
“Because there’s nothing for you here. Do you even ride horses
?”
“Not yet.”
“We already have a lawyer in town.”
“I’m not here to compete with him. But I’ll be taking some contract work.” He’d already been approached by a previous client to do some work on land acquisition in the area. “Mostly, I’m just here to rest.”
She cocked her head. “For real? I’ve never taken you for a person who stops to take a breath.”
“Yeah, well, thank my late brother for that.”
Lexi grimaced. “That’s right. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s okay.” Jarrod waved a hand. “You didn’t know him.”
“But I saw how devastated Jamey was.” She laid a hand on his arm. “I can’t imagine how I’d feel if I lost one of my sisters.”
It was meant to be a sympathetic gesture, but her touch sent a jolt of electricity through him. He swallowed, and covered her hand with his. “Thanks. I don’t like to talk about it much.”
“I understand.” She sniffed in, chest lifting. “But you’re welcome to talk about it with me. Whenever you like. I promise, I’ll just listen.”
There was something so earnest about her offer that Jarrod’s chest pulled tight. He found it hard to breathe, and not just from the wave of grief that washed over him. They’d been enemies in the courtroom, but now that they were in a different place, maybe… just maybe… they could be friends.
Chapter Twelve
“Can I walk you to your car?” Jarrod asked.
The butterflies in Lexi’s stomach took off for the umpteenth time. “It’s a truck, and this is Prairie. It’s not like there’s a boogeyman between here and the car.”
“Still. May I?”
He even used proper grammar, which made her ridiculously giddy. In spite of herself, Lexi found herself warming to Jarrod. He wasn’t the arrogant prick she’d made him out to be in her mind. He was smart, and funny. And hurting. The last part wasn’t lost on her, and she didn’t have it in her to kick an animal while it was down, let alone a very sexy lawyer, no matter what their differences. Still, men only offered to walk you to your car if there would be kissing involved. Her heart jumped into her throat at the thought, then yo-yoed down to her toes before returning to its rightful place. It wasn’t a question of whether or not she wanted to kiss Jarrod, that was a given. The question was whether or not she should. The parking lot was deserted, so it wasn’t like anyone would see them. She could probably kiss him and fly under the radar of her mother’s Posse ladies, who seemed to have eyes in the back of their heads.
“Sure. I guess.”
“That’s not a good enough answer,” Jarrod returned, shaking his head. “That sounds like you’re saying yes under duress.”
“What do you want me to say? Yes, Jarrod, please walk me to my truck so we can kiss?”
His eyes crinkled with amusement. “Yes. I’d like that very much. At least, then, I’d know where I stood.”
“Is it that important? To know where you stand?” The frankness of their conversation made her belly do flip-flops.
“I like you, Lexi. I’d love to walk you to your car and kiss you good night.” His voice turned to gravel, and it did wicked things to her insides. But… what if… what if? Her brain spun off a million different outcomes in the span of a breath. “Risk or regret, Lexi? What will it be?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Isn’t it? We’ve already been down this road once before.”
“That was the alcohol talking.”
“That may be, but sometimes alcohol loosens your tongue. And your inhibitions.”
“Would you regret not kissing me?” She couldn’t believe she was being so bold. She never talked like this. What was it about Jarrod that brought out the wanton in her?
“Absolutely.”
Her body betrayed her, responding with a thrill at his declaration. She was certain to regret it later, but right now, in this moment, she wanted nothing more than Jarrod’s mouth on hers. “So why wait until we reach the car? Why not kiss me here?” she asked boldly, heart pounding in her ears.
His voice was rough, filled with sex, and it scraped across her skin, pulling her nipples tight, beading in a hard knot at her sex. “Are you asking me to?”
By way of an answer, she closed the distance between them and looped her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his. Standing on tiptoe, she met him halfway. His lips were soft as down, his mouth as gentle as a spring breeze at dawn. Not at all like the frenzied kisses of her fuzzy memory. His hands wrapped around her waist, holding her close, and when her tongue flicked along the inside of his lower lip, he opened his mouth with a groan, and he took over the kiss, devouring her, leaving her breathless and clinging to him. This was the kiss she remembered. The one that made her head spin and her knees weak, his tongue alternately coaxing then demanding. Damn the prying eyes, she could kiss him forever.
When they parted, her breath came in short gasps. “I should go,” she said, when she found her voice again. “Thank you for dinner.” He fell into step beside her as she began to cross the parking lot. “I thought we already established you didn’t need to walk me to my truck.”
He didn’t answer. But when she stopped at the driver’s door, he spun her around and pinned her to the truck, mouth crashing against hers. Being pinned this way against the truck gave her free reign to explore his body, and she couldn’t help herself. She ran her hands over his broad chest, down to his belt, slipping her fingers inside his jeans and pulling him closer. Shamelessly, she ground herself against his thick erection, seeking relief for the throbbing between her legs. He owned her mouth, and if he kept kissing her that way, he’d own the rest of her, too. In very short order.
“We should stop,” Jarrod mumbled after who knew how long.
She nodded, even as her body cried for more. “Yes.”
“But I don’t want to,” he growled, taking her mouth again.
“I know,” she said when they parted a second time. “But people will talk.”
“Let them.”
“You don’t understand this town. It’s better to be… discreet. At least for a while.”
“A while,” Jarrod echoed. “That implies future kisses.”
She couldn’t help but grin. “It does,” she said with a coy lilt to her voice.
“I’d like that,” he said, voice dark and full of gravel. “Very much.”
“Me too,” she admitted too breathlessly.
“When can I see you again?”
“Why don’t you come out tomorrow afternoon, and I’ll take you out for a ride? On a gentle horse.”
His chest vibrated against hers with barely contained laughter. “I appreciate the caveat.”
“You should know by now, if I’m going to murder you, it will be with my own two hands.”
“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” he said.
She could hear the smile in his voice, and it warmed her. She liked this banter that had developed between them. And the kisses even more. She would be long for sleep tonight.
Chapter Thirteen
Jarrod turned under the sign with the words Falcon Ridge Ranch and proceeded up the long, bumpy drive. He would need a pickup before long. His BMW wouldn’t cut it on the rutted roads in and around Prairie.
Lexi was waiting on the porch as he approached, boots propped up on the railing, straw hat pulled over her eyes. She looked as luscious and kissable as ever. She dropped her feet and stood, an easy smile lighting her face, as her eyes roamed over his figure. He couldn’t help but flex a little under her perusal. “Like what you see?”
“Let’s see how you do around horses, city boy,” she tossed back. “Then I’ll answer.”
Fair enough. He’d spent the previous evening reading everything he could about riding horses so he wouldn’t make a fool of himself today. He was ready, and he aimed to impress her. Lexi hopped off the porch. “Sun’s awful bright today. You sure you don’t want a hat of some kind? I�
��m sure we have an extra cowboy hat around here you can borrow.”
“I’m not sure I’ve earned the right to wear a cowboy hat yet.”
“Fair enough.” Her gaze dropped to his feet. “Your boots are too shiny, that’s for sure.”
His gaze followed. Her fuck-me-red boots had been replaced by a pair of square-toed dull brown ones. “What happened to your other ones?”
Her mouth pulled up into an amused smile. “You don’t wear your dancing boots for work.”
“You dance, too?”
“Sure. Everyone does. Even your sister.”
Huh. Jamey had two left feet. When had she learned to dance?
Lexi eyed him. “You do dance, don’t you?”
He didn’t know a two-step from a foxtrot. He cleared his throat, waving her off. “Sure, sure. Everyone knows how to dance.” It was just another thing he’d have to YouTube when he got back to Jamey’s. At least there was internet in Prairie, albeit slow.
“Okay, just checking. You never know when that skill might come in handy. Shall we head to the barn?”
Jarrod fell into step beside Lexi. “So, you’re not going to put me in my place by sticking me on the friskiest horse, are you?”
She chuckled and eyed him with a sly smile. “That would be a terrible thing to do to the horse.”
“Funny, Lexi.”
“Seriously, I thought you could ride Cass’s old horse, Winny. She’s a teenager now, and is very gentle. She’s experienced with novice riders, and won’t startle.” She paused with her hand on the barn door. “Are you ready to meet her?”
He was ready to kiss Lexi again, he was less sure about meeting an enormous animal, but there was no way he’d let on to either thing. “Sure.”
Lexi pushed open the door and led him inside. His nose was filled with the smell of sweet hay and manure, leather and wood. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimmer, yellow light, but he followed Lexi, stopping when she did at a stall. A tall horse with gentle brown eyes peered out at him. His breath held in his throat as he held the mare’s gaze. Involuntarily, he offered his hand, and when her velvet snout bumped him and she huffed, his chest fluttered in the queerest way. It was like the horse was assessing him, figuring out his weak spots.
