Let It Ride

by Vivian Arend

  Clay helped Maggie out of her coat then ended up with her hands wrapped around his arm as they made their way down the narrow hallway to where the second half of the party would take place.

  He’d gotten control of his body during the short time from the truck to the restaurant. He needed to keep it that way for the rest of the night, especially with the eagle-eyed crew that would be around for the fundraiser—he didn’t need one of them getting suspicious that he had the hots for Maggie.

  One of the downfalls of a small town. Someone would take it upon themselves to let her know, probably along with an earful about how terribly disgusting and callous it was for him to make a move so soon.

  The banquet hall was decorated far better than any school gymnasium he remembered, although the dances he’d attended had come to an abrupt halt after his mom died.

  “You guys did an amazing job finishing up after I left yesterday. It looks gorgeous.” Maggie rotated slowly, admiration on her face as she took in the festive surroundings.

  Beth Coleman gave a little curtsey, her dark hair arranged in cascading curls that bounced as she moved. “Most of that is because of Katy and Janey. The two of them put together the whole design.”

  Her husband stepped behind her. Daniel settled an arm around Beth possessively. “A good design helps, but you need to take a compliment when you’re given one, sweetheart. You ladies did a great job.” He dropped a kiss against her temple then spotted Clay, reaching a hand in greeting.

  “Good to see you.”

  “Me too.” Daniel grinned. “And that’s not just a line. I’m damn glad to see you. Now that you’re here, I get to sit in the background and dance with my wife while you do the heavy lifting with Maggie.”

  “Now who’s not taking credit for everything he’s done,” Beth whispered loudly, resting her hand against his chest as she smiled up at him.

  Clay barely kept from shouting in surprise as Maggie slipped her hand into his. “It’s been a lot of fun working with both of you. I’m glad we could be part of the event.”

  Beth’s eyes sparkled. “I hope you say that at the end of the evening.”

  Maggie tugged on his fingers. “We’d better get back to the door to start our heavy lifting.”

  He dipped his head in farewell then followed along obediently, hoping she didn’t notice his hand was getting sweaty just from holding hers. God. He was a teenager all over again, with his heart pounding from imagining something that was definitely not happening.

  There were an awful lot of we and our falling from Maggie’s lips, but…he was sure she didn’t mean anything by it.

  She pulled to a stop in the darkness of the hallway just before the front entrance and examined him carefully. The next thing he knew she was adjusting his tie and tugging the lapels of his collar into position. Then damn if she didn’t lift her hand and run her fingers through his hair to straighten it, nodding with satisfaction when she was done. “There you go. You were a little rumpled.”

  Sweet Jesus, he wanted to be a whole lot more rumpled.

  She lifted her face to his expectantly. “What about me?”

  He stood in stunned silence for a few seconds. “What about you…what?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Be my mirror. Do I look okay? Do I need to be straightened out anywhere?”

  Goddamn. Faced with a direct order he had no choice but to check her out her from top to bottom, his body tightening with wicked heat. He smoothed a hand from her waist over her hip to remove a small wrinkle left from sitting in the truck.

  It was as soft as he’d thought it would be. Her dress. And her under the fabric, and he might’ve forgotten to breathe for a few seconds before he snapped out of his stupor in time to keep from doing something terrible. Something like taking three steps forward, pressing her to the wall and kissing the living daylights out of her.

  He lifted his gaze and met her eyes, her lash-fluttering sending another set of confused messages romping through him like runaway horses. He cleared his throat and tried to sound casual. “You look great.”

  She dipped her chin and took a deep breath. “Then I guess we should go play hosts.”

  Her heart was still beating faster than normal fifteen minutes later as the guests continued to arrive. She stood beside Clay and offered greetings, directing the partygoers toward their tables in the restaurant.

  She had worried for a while that the evening would turn into a “how are you dear” opportunity for the people who hadn’t seen her since Cameron’s funeral, but so far everyone had been simply focused on an evening out and a good time.

  They took her and Clay acting as greeters in stride. Only a couple of inquisitive glances seemed to assess if there was more below the surface.

  Oh God, she hoped so…

  It had taken all her courage to pour herself into the dress, let alone begin to flirt with Clay. It’d been so long since she’d had to assess whether a new man was interested in her, but from her early attempts it didn’t seem as if he was going to run screaming from her presence.

  Of course, that was a long way from actually being interested in her—in a relationship. They were already friends. Could it be that much further of a step for them to become more?

  She glanced at him, skimming her gaze over his square jaw. Over the solid breadth of his shoulders as he stood beside her and chatted with two of the older members of the community. He seemed to know a little about everyone who had shown up so far, and she was impressed.

  “You not only dress up nice, you know how to woo them.” She leaned against his side during a break between arrivals, smiling as she whispered so they weren’t overheard. “You should run for mayor.”

  He looked flustered for a moment before cracking a smile. “Just good business sense.”

  “You sure you don’t want to be in charge of tonight’s program? Say the word and I’ll give you control of the microphone.”

  “Hell no.” He raised a brow as he twisted toward her, crossing his broad arms in front of his chest. “Don’t you go changing the rules on me. People didn’t come here to listen to me yatter, and they certainly don’t want to look at me when they could look at you.”

  She smoothed his tie as an excuse to put her hands against his chest again. “Fifty percent of the room would disagree with you,” she teased. “But don’t worry, you can stay at the table where no one gets to ogle you.”

  The door opened before he could respond, and she was back beside him, no indication that what she’d wanted to do was slide her hands up until she could join them behind his neck. Then she’d tug him down far enough she could press their lips together.

  It was a good thing Clay was doing the small talk, because she found herself flustered wondering whether he would kiss slow and soft, or hungrily—because right then she had no idea which she would prefer.

  She missed kissing and cuddling. She missed dirty talk and sexual innuendo, but most of all she missed sex. That total abandonment of physical control in the moments just before climax—that sensation wasn’t something she’d managed to duplicate using her fingers or any toy. She and Cameron had enjoyed each other’s company in bed as well as out of it, and when she said she missed him, it was true. She missed everything that they’d had together.

  Orgasms were wonderful, but they were even more magical when they were shared.

  And that dirty thought was on her mind instead of trying to remember the name of the owner of the local feed mill.

  She pulled it together long enough to send the couple on their way to the right table. As tempting as her plans were for the evening, she really had to keep her mind on more than one thing.

  They finally moved toward the dining hall where the restaurant was serving the food family style. Casual appetizers were followed by more formal courses, and in between each, she and Clay chatted with the people at their table. She excused herself and popped up to the podium at intervals, handing out door prizes that had been donated by the local companies
, and otherwise keeping the evening moving forward at a steady pace.

  It was a simple and enjoyable event, and she was busy enough to be distracted briefly from her other agenda for the night.

  Then she turned back toward her table and caught Clay looking at her with an expression that could be only described as hungry. Hope made her stutter as she quickly focused elsewhere, but that brief moment of complete honesty she’d seen was exactly what she needed to continue her plan of attack.

  Once dinner was done, everyone moved down the hall into the banquet area. Maggie found herself shaking with anticipation. Like a teen with a crush, all she could think about was the moment Clay would take her in his arms and she’d be allowed to stay there. Breathing in the scent of him, touching in a way she hadn’t been allowed to up until now.

  “Do you need a break?” he asked as a dark-haired young man fiddled with the sound system, getting the music ready to go. “Joel will have that ready in a minute.”

  Tables and chairs lined the perimeter of the room leaving a wide-open space in the center. Smiling faces were everywhere as people found places to put their things, but already couples hovered at the edge of the dance floor.

  “I’m good to go.” She glanced at him. Somewhere between the dinner table and now he’d grown serious. That wasn’t the mood she had hoped to inspire. “I forgot to ask you a very important question.”

  Clay offered his elbow as he led them toward the sound system, walking slower than usual in deference to her high heels. “It’s too late to ask if I can dance,” he teased.

  “P’shaw. I already know you can.” Whatever delay had caused problems seemed to be solved as music swelled, filling the room. She turned to face him, looking up into his dark brown eyes as he pulled her into position and placed his hand around her waist. “Which of us is going to lead?”

  His solemn expression vanished, and Clay threw back his head and laughed, drawing attention from others in the room who were also taking their first steps. Smiles reflected back at them, along with a few curious expressions, but she didn’t care. Maggie was focused on him.

  “Why’s that so funny?” she asked

  Clay was already moving them to the music, their feet stepping in perfect synchronization. “If you’re trying to tell me Cam didn’t lead when you went dancing, I’m going to call bullshit.”

  “I never said that,” she teased. “I asked what you needed. But since it seems to be a moot point, forget I even mentioned it.”

  She had better things to do, like enjoy the way his hand felt spread against her lower back as he guided her across the dance floor. Their bodies close together as they swayed, her breasts brushing his chest, the heat from his torso more than making up for the thin fabric of her dress.

  Those dance classes way back when in high school—she would have totally lost marks for placing her hand in the wrong position. Instead of resting it lightly on his shoulder, she slid her fingers farther up until she touched the hair at the back of his neck.

  As they circled the floor, she found her fingertips pressed to his warm neck, moving against him in a way that set her heart pounding yet wasn’t about to get them arrested for acting indecent.

  Around them the floor was filled with couples, laughing and dancing, focused on their own little worlds. Maggie took a deep breath and let it out slowly, tempted to rest her head against Clay’s chest as the tempo of the music slowed.

  He adjusted his grip and that’s when she heard it. An unsteady breath, his throat moving in a hard swallow. She caught his gaze and scalding heat reflected back. He didn’t try to hide or deny it—in that moment there was no doubt that Clay Thompson wanted her for more than a friend.

  And…a wave of uncertainty set in. It was fantastic news—not.

  Because she wasn’t sure how to take the next step. She knew what she wanted, oh God, she knew what she wanted.

  Still, she couldn’t help feeling slightly relieved when the DJ announced it was time for a break. She needed some air before she crawled all over him right there in public.

  Chapter Nine

  By the time they’d said their goodbyes and headed to the truck, Clay was nearly vibrating.

  He didn’t know which way was up anymore.

  There was no reason for Maggie to take the middle seat in the truck on the way home, but damn if he didn’t want her there. Instead of leading her to the passenger side, Clay walked her to the driver door and pulled it open, helping her up the step to the bench seat. If his hands lingered a little longer than they did a few hours ago, he blamed it on the near drunken euphoria rolling through his veins from having spent the entire evening breathing in the sweet scent of her perfume. From holding her in his arms where he’d longed to have her.

  Maggie buckled up in the middle, waving goodbye to the last of the fundraiser attendees who smiled before turning away.

  Clay concentrated as he put the truck into gear and slowly made his way out of the parking lot. He wasn’t sure what was going on—he wasn’t going to make any assumptions—but what the community would be talking about within the next twenty-four hours was another matter altogether.

  He was trying to figure out how to approach his worries when Maggie laid her head on his shoulder, her hands slipping around his arm. “Thank you for being there with me. Thank you for making the evening such a success.”

  “No bother at all,” he said, and he meant every word even as he planned what he would do if anyone dared give her grief for shining so brightly.

  There would always be the naysayers and the negative element who could find something to complain about. And damn if he ever wanted to see her happiness disappear again.

  They sat in silence until he reached Maggie’s house. Her grip on his arm and the warmth of her right there next to him only made the longings that had begun earlier in the evening stronger.

  “Come in for a drink?” she asked.

  Clay didn’t bother to offer any of that “it’s late” bullshit. He wanted to come in so bad he could taste it.

  Still he held back as he led her to the house. He removed her coat without pressing his lips to that spot on the back of her neck he’d been longing to kiss all night. He managed to keep from catching hold of her hand and jerking her into his arms so he could ravish her lips.

  Instead, he followed her into the living room, surprised when she pulled out whiskey tumblers and poured them each two fingers neat of Cameron’s favourite whiskey. The bottle he’d given his friend for his birthday back in the fall.

  Thirty years old was far too young to die.

  Maggie pressed a glass into his hand. Her eyes were moist, but she smiled and raised her drink in the air. “To a brighter future.”

  He touched his glass to hers with a gentle clink, then they both drank. The golden liquid burned a fiery path down Clay’s throat. Warmth spread to his chest and gut as they put the glasses aside.

  Nothing between them but a foot of air.

  Her eyes were mesmerizing. Her tongue darted over her lips as she licked away the last of the liquor. Her breathing accelerated, her chest moving like seduction under that damn dress that showed off her figure to perfection.

  She lifted a hand and laid it over his chest, and there was no way to deny the solid thumping she must’ve felt against her palm.

  “What are we doing?” he whispered. He had to be certain.

  “Living.”

  God. He laid a hand over hers, pinning her in place. With his other hand, he slid his fingers past her cheek, stroking his thumb over her cheekbone. Soft skin under his touch, bright eyes staring into his as her lips opened partway, an invitation he craved to accept. “Are you sure?”

  She nuzzled against his palm, her eyes closing as she moved against him. “I want this. I want you.”

  Any hesitation he might have had washed away in that moment. The sheer utter longing in her tone told him all he needed. He slipped his hand around the back of her neck, fingers nestled into her hair as he c
upped her head and tilted it so he could lean forward and brush his lips over hers.

  A brief, gentle touch. Just enough to take a first taste.

  His entire body had gone hard, every muscle primed as she moved against him like she had on the dance floor. But now he could give in to the cravings he had—and he intended to. One exquisite moment at a time.

  Like being given keys to a vintage wine cellar, he didn’t want to rush and miss a single moment of the experience.

  He spread his fingers on her lower back and brought their bodies even closer as he went for another kiss. This one more intense, asking for more, slipping his tongue against her lips until she opened to him and let him in.

  His previous fantasies had nothing on the real thing. As Maggie stirred against him, warm breath mixing with his and womanly curves pressed against his hardness, he was glad. It was a brand-new experience. It was enough to blow his mind.

  He moved them backward, tempted to rush ahead, ripping away her dress until she stood naked before him. He wanted to be buried in her so badly.

  But no matter how much she said she wanted this, he needed to be sure. He paused when his calves hit the couch, breaking the distance between them so he could look into her eyes and check she was fully on board.

  Her lips were swollen from his kisses, wet with moisture. Her pupils were wide, and she stared back, panting heavily.

  “God, I could eat you up in one bite,” he breathed. He cupped her face in his hands, kissing her in spite of his intentions to slow down.

  She jerked opened his dress jacket and shoved it from his shoulders. He let go of her so he could toss it aside.

  Maggie caught him by surprise and planted a hand on his chest, pushing him onto the couch before lifting the edge of her skirt so she could straddle his thighs and settle in his lap. “Don’t mind me. I have this thing I’ve wanted to do for a while. It requires undressing you.”