Slow and Steady Rush

by Laura Trentham

  Silence. He concentrated on not allowing his hands to roam, not allowing his arms to pull her close, not allowing his face to drop to her honey-suckled hair.

  “First the flattery and now the scintillating conversation. I’m not sure I can stand the onslaught of your charm. Let me start. How’s your game plan coming along?” Her tone mocked him, but he didn’t care.

  “Fine.” Which also described the view down the deep vee of her shirt, the pink lace of her bra peeking around the edge. He fought the urge to pull the scrap aside with his teeth.

  “What do you think our chances are next Friday?”

  “Fair to middling.” Which was also the chance he’d lose his sanity before the dance ended.

  “Have you kept up your reading? What do you think?”

  “I like it.” His gaze fastened on her mouth, painted with a light pink gloss.

  “What about Atticus?”

  “Honorable man.” Which, based on the direction of his thoughts, did not describe him.

  Their gazes scattered in opposite directions, their bodies’ swaying movements disconnected. Mercifully, the song ended, and Darcy shot toward the ladies’ room.

  Robbie retreated to the bar to finish his beer, warm and unsatisfying.

  “What in holy hell was that?” Logan asked, his voice up an octave and disbelieving.

  “We danced. What are you complaining about?”

  “You danced with her like you think girls have cooties. If anything, you cemented the rumors. You looked afraid, disgusted … I don’t know. You need to dance like you want her naked in your bed. Can’t you pretend or something?”

  If his control wasn’t so tenuous, he might have laughed. “I suppose I could … or something.”

  “There’s another slow song coming. Take one for the team, Dalt.”

  At least she wasn’t in a dress. He wouldn’t be tempted to lay her over a table for all to see. That would dispel the rumors faster than a hiccup.

  She walked down the hall from the bathroom with her gaze downcast. He grabbed her hand and tugged her back onto the floor. This time he hauled her close. One hand pressed on her upper back, her breasts soft against his chest. The other skated to the top of her ass. He notched his thigh between hers and shuffled them to the pulsing beat of the music.

  Three other couples swayed alongside them. The sideways looks were not lost on him, but the sweet curves of her body fuzzed them out.

  “What’re you doing?” Her arms circled his neck, and her breath puffed across his jaw.

  “Logan said you acted like I had cooties. You need to be more convincing. Pretend like you want me in your bed.”

  Her throat convulsed. She whispered, “What should I do?”

  Her question was loaded. He wanted her to peel off her clothes. He wanted her to drop to her knees and relieve his raging need. His hand smoothed over her buttock and squeezed. “Stay close. Act seductive.”

  His eyes closed at the skim of her lips along his jaw. She nuzzled her nose against his. Her lips teased him, close yet not touching his. He shifted forward to take her mouth, but her lips moved out of reach, across his cheekbone to land on his temple.

  “How’s this?” she asked, her lips moving against his skin.

  His pulse throbbed against the warmth of her mouth. Even knowing he deserved to be horsewhipped, he said, “Pitiful. Try harder.”

  She nosed into the hair above his ear and inhaled. When she caught his ear lobe in her teeth, his dick expanded like an exploding star. Her hips circled, grinding against his leg.

  The woman was driving him insane, but he only had himself to blame. Or maybe she was as lost in the attraction as he was. Maybe she was equally as powerless to stop the inferno. Maybe she wasn’t faking it either.

  “Do your panties match your sexy pink bra?”

  What had possessed him to ask? Nuzzling her temple, her scent wove around him and spurred his heart. Her back arched, and he dipped to lay a kiss on the throbbing pulse on her neck.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  Another ill-advised question slithered past his common sense. “Were you thinking about me when you picked them out?”

  Her hands curved under his shoulders and fisted his T-shirt. Her breasts pushed against his chest in rhythm with the erotic beat of the music. She didn’t shy away from him as he expected but looked up, her lips so close he could feel her quickened breaths. Her blue eyes were like the hottest part of a flame, melting his resistance.

  “Yes.” Her confession shot a wave of longing and lust through him, the combination potent and better than any physical foreplay. He was through fighting.

  He wanted her in his bed. For one night, he’d explore every curve, kiss every inch of her sweet skin. For one night, he’d reenact every dream that had left him aching and unsatisfied. For one night, he wanted her under him, her legs pulling him close and his name falling from her lips. He would face the nuclear fallout in the morning. He dropped his mouth a fraction closer, ready to claim her in front of the crowd that had gathered.

  A fast tempo pop song jarred them both. He dropped his hands and stepped back. What the hell had he been thinking? One night would never satisfy him.

  All around the room, eyes had fixed on them. Logan stood behind the bar with his mouth hanging open.

  “I think that probably did it.” Robbie’s heart still pounded, and his lungs worked as if he’d run around the building a couple of times. “Avery’s waiting to be let out. I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “We shouldn’t hang out and dance again?” Her expression clouded, leaving her thoughts a mystery.

  Another song and he’d have her naked against a wall. “Not necessary.

  Opening the door, he gestured her through first, the night humid and uncomfortable. His gaze dropped to her ass, and his hands twitched. She slid behind the wheel of her car and fumbled the key into the ignition.

  Standing in the open car door, he said, “I’ll follow you. Make sure you get home safe.”

  “I can make it fine. By the way—” She rummaged in her passenger seat and then jabbed the corner of a rectangular package dangerously close to his aching balls. “Picture frame. To replace the one I broke.”

  Rough wood grain wrinkled the thin paper. “Thank you. I—” The soft blue of her eyes stole his thought. “G’nite.”

  With a small wave, she closed her door and was out of sight before he even made it to his truck.

  Her car was sitting in front of Miss Ada’s when he drove by. He slowed but didn’t stop.

  Her breathless answers and sweet body on the dance floor made his chest tighten with regret. Why hadn’t he kissed her when he’d had the excuse?

  Chapter 12

  Darcy shut the house door, leaned against it, and closed her eyes. Her stomach churned with arousal and embarrassment. The potent combination had bile creeping up her throat. The two men that had approached her table had assumed she’d be up for a threesome with them based on what they’d heard about her. How romantic.

  Her dirty dance with Robbie had probably squashed the rumors about him and added tinder to the ones apparently circulating about her. As soon as his hand had landed on her butt, she couldn’t have cared less who was watching them or how far they went.

  Shaking her shoulders to clear the tension, she pasted a smile on her face and walked to the den. The wide-eyed worry on Kat’s face made Darcy stop in the doorway, her gaze pinging between Kat and Ada. “What’s wrong?”

  Kat said, “I was getting ready to text you. I think Miss Ada is running a fever, but she won’t let me take her temperature.”

  Darcy took Ada’s hands. It could be anything. A virus, a summer cold …

  Bright splashes on Ada’s cheeks colored an otherwise pale face, but more than that, Ada was in pain. Her grandmother’s slitted eyes and the tight pull of her mouth had Darcy turning back to Kat. “Call an ambulance.”

  Kat pulled out her phone and retreated to the foyer. Darcy turned to Ada
. “Does your hip hurt?”

  “My left one. It’s been sore for a few days now,” Ada said with reluctance.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Ada’s shrug was teenager-like. Darcy laid the back of her hand on her grandmother’s forehead. A dry heat radiated. Kat clutched her phone to her chest in the doorway and nodded to Darcy.

  Did Darcy look as shaken and scared as Kat? She tried to school her face into calm confidence. “We’re going to get you to the hospital where they’ll probably pump you full of antibiotics, and you’ll feel better by morning.”

  “Will they let me come home? I don’t want to die at the hospital.”

  Darcy’s lungs compressed, no air coming or going, the same time her heart leapt into overdrive. The combination had her swaying and dizzy. She and Ada locked eyes. Her voice barely audible, Darcy said, “You’re not going to die.”

  Flashing red lit the night.

  Wolf pushed a gurney into the den. “Ada Wilde, what have you done to yourself?” His chipper question swept away the desolation of the moment.

  Darcy wanted to hug him again. “Her hip is sore, and she has a fever, Wolf. Do you think it’s an infection?”

  He ran a topical thermometer over Ada’s forehead and chuffed. Everyone was silent while he counted her pulse with two fingers on her delicate wrist. While he banded her arm with a blood pressure cuff, he said, “Infection is a common risk of any joint replacement.”

  As he removed the cuff, he squeezed Ada’s arm. “We’ll get you all fixed up, Miss Ada, don’t you worry your head.” Turning to Darcy, he asked, “You want to ride in the back?”

  Darcy climbed into the ambulance after Ada had been loaded and clutched her grandmother’s thin hand in both of hers, holding it over her heart.

  #

  Robbie waited until he was inside to unwrap the package. He ran his fingers over the rustic handmade wooden frame. Putting the picture of his coach inside, he set it on the mantle and took two steps back. It was perfect.

  He grabbed a bottled water and let Avery out. Propping his shoulder against the front-porch column, he watched Avery sniff at a bush and take care of business. Darcy Wilde was a piece of sandpaper to his wood grain, stripping away protective layers. He stared up at her stars.

  Flickering lights through the trees drew him out of his semi-trance. He grabbed his phone and whistled for Avery. They both piled into the truck. Avery barked and shifted, mirroring Robbie’s worry. They pulled up as the taillights of an ambulance disappeared in the trees. Kat stood on the front porch, her hands cupped around each elbow.

  He rolled down his window as Kat ran to him. “What happened?”

  Her normally confident voice sounded strained and reedy. “Miss Ada started running a fever. She wouldn’t let me take her temp because she didn’t want to interrupt your date. Darcy thinks one of her hips might be infected. Should I call Logan?”

  “You do that. I’ll be at the hospital with Darcy until he gets off work.”

  He parked in front of the county hospital and rolled down the truck windows. Avery had curled up on the seat at his hip. The ambulance sat in the unloading zone of the ER, the doors open but the back empty. He sat in the truck for a few minutes. Darcy might not want him there. It’s not like he was a real boyfriend. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel a few times before climbing out, leaving Avery dozing.

  The smell of disinfectant hung heavy in the hospital. Luck was on his side. Visiting hours were over, but the night nurse was the mother of one of his players, and she ushered him through the locked doors. Bypassing the waiting area, he opted to prop himself in the hall across from Miss Ada’s room. Nurses bustled in and out, but no one seemed frantic.

  The patience and stillness he’d learned in the woods served him well. Two hours passed. A doctor strolled down the hallway, his gaze on a sheaf of papers he carried.

  “Dr. Mackenzie,” Robbie said, “how’s Miss Ada?”

  The doctor looked up with a smile, and they shook hands. “Looks to be an infection around the metal joint in her left hip. Started her on IV antibiotics. Nothing life-threatening at the moment, but these infections can be difficult to shake, especially considering her age.”

  They discussed football until the doctor was paged away. Robbie crossed his arms and resumed his position, ready to wait all night. The door finally opened a few minutes after midnight, and Darcy backed out of the room. Blood sped through his body, sending him a step toward her. As soon as the door shut, her shoulders dropped, and she turned.

  “Robbie?” She blinked as if he were a figment of her imagination. “What are you doing here?”

  “Thought you might need someone.”

  At first, she showed no indication she’d even heard him. Then, her chin wobbled as she took a few tentative steps toward him. A tear trickled down her cheek, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and her weight fell into him.

  The feeling of having a woman count on him, look to him for solace was foreign, yet instead of hightailing it in the opposite direction, he pulled her closer, stroked her hair, and wiped at her damp cheeks with a thumb. The night nurse approached on soundless shoes and offered a box of tissues with a sympathetic look. He dabbed at Darcy’s face.

  Taking the wad and blowing her nose, she said between hiccups, “I need to call Logan, but I don’t have his number memorized. I left my phone and purse and everything at the house.”

  “All taken care of. Logan is heading over after he closes up. He should be here any minute. The doctor said your grandmother’s not in immediate danger.” Her arms travelled back around him, her response a squeeze.

  Logan turned the corner, hands deep in his pockets. His step stuttered seeing Darcy snug in Robbie’s arms, but thankfully, he refrained from comment.

  Robbie pointed to Ada’s room. After patting Darcy’s shoulder, Logan slipped inside. She tried to follow, but Robbie said, “Give him a few minutes.”

  He expected an argument, but she surprised him by notching herself back in his arms, her forehead against his neck. He nuzzled his chin against her temple, and she went lax.

  Logan rejoined them. “Darcy looks half asleep. Why don’t you get her home, Dalt. I’ll stay here. The nurse has given Ada some pain meds, so she’ll be out the rest of the night anyway. As soon as they offer some recommendations in the morning, I’ll call.”

  “I should stay too.” Her protest was thick with exhaustion.

  “No room for both of us. Go on and try to get some rest. She’ll be fine.” Logan squeezed her forearm before disappearing into Ada’s room.

  “Come on. Logan is right.”

  She didn’t offer significant resistance when he loaded her into his truck. She scooted to the middle of the bench seat, and Avery settled next to the window. The two regarded one another with equal amounts of antipathy.

  “He’s not going to hurt you.”

  “Why does he look like he wants to rip my throat out?”

  “He picked up on my feelings about you.”

  “You want to attack me?”

  A trick question. He wouldn’t mind ripping her clothes off and taking her like an animal. But tonight had revealed a sobering fact. While she no doubt deserved better than him, he wanted her, wanted to be a better man for her.

  “It’s complicated,” he offered instead of a straight answer.

  In a matter of minutes, he’d pulled in front of the house. He turned the engine off and walked her inside. Darcy didn’t turn on any lights. They stood at the base of the stairs, dim moonlight filtering from the window above the door.

  He said, “Well, I guess—”

  She grabbed the front of his T-shirt and stepped close.

  “Stay with me. Please.” Her whispered plea tore through him, electrifying his nerves.

  What exactly was she asking? Did she want him to take her to bed? Why? Out of fear or loneliness or something more complex? He was afraid to ask, not sur
e which answer would be the most unsettling. He skimmed his lips over her forehead. “Go on up. Call if you need anything.”

  Before any other body part could voice an opinion on the matter, he retreated to the porch.

  #

  Darcy woke with a sadness pressing on her chest. The wires and IVs had seemed to tether Ada to the big hospital bed last night, as frail and delicate as a tissue kite. Darcy curled into a ball and allowed a few tears to leak out.

  The house was quiet. Covering her face with a pillow, she groaned. Like an idiot, she’d asked Robbie to stay. The arousal from their dance had buzzed through her like alcohol. She’d wanted him in a multitude of ways last night. For sexual gratification, certainly, but she’d also been seeking the physical solidness of his strength. He’d been a rock the night before.

  No matter. He had shoved her upstairs and left. She pulled on jeans and a blouse and padded downstairs to find her phone. A recent text from Logan informed her Ada was awake and sassy, but they were still waiting for the doctor to make rounds. She blew a gusty sigh and headed to make coffee. The sight in the formal living room stopped her short.

  Robbie hadn’t left after all. Sprawled on the ornately curved, Chippendale-style couch, he’d pilfered the ancient afghan from the den. His shoes were off, one foot on the floor, the other hanging over the armrest, his body longer than the couch. Avery blinked at her from the floor. One of Robbie’s hands dangled to lie on the dog’s scruff, and Avery either didn’t want to wake him or enjoyed the contact.

  No gruff words or walls could hide the truth of his soul. He’d saved her from a snake, rescued her from Rick’s advances, taken care of her like a gentleman when she was drunk, waited at the hospital, and slept on the most uncomfortable couch in all of Alabama because she’d asked him to stay. What she wanted to do was wake him with a kiss.

  What she did was creep away to make him breakfast. The smell of frying bacon lured both man and beast to the kitchen. Robbie shifted on socked feet, his blond hair rumpled and his shirt halfway untucked. Blond stubble covered his cheeks and trailed down his neck, and he scratched at it as if needing something to do with his hands.