A Shot of Sultry

by Macy Beckett

  She’d wanted Colton to grow up and change, but not like this. If that psychopath, Barbara Lee, weren’t already locked in a padded cell, Bobbi would throttle her for what she’d done to this once exuberant man.

  “I saw your parents out there.” She pointed toward the hall as she tugged her chair closer to the bed and lowered to the vinyl cushion. “Talking to some guy called Doc Benton.” She picked up a stuffed bear and used its fuzzy ear to tickle the tips of Colt’s fingers. “He looks twelve years old. You sure he’s a real doctor?”

  Colton didn’t smile.

  “I overheard him saying they got your internal bleeding under control,” she continued. “That’s good.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “And don’t they say broken bones heal stronger?” When he didn’t respond, she went on. “If that’s true, you’ll be the next Bionic Man.”

  Silence. Not even a glance in her direction.

  “Hey, I brought something to cheer you up.” She reached into her purse and pulled out the Super Troopers DVD she’d borrowed from Luke’s collection. Though she’d found the film’s humor a bit low-brow, she’d laughed at the impish, syrup-chugging cops. She’d identified a lot of the old Colton in their shenanigans. “Want me to put it on? I saw it last night, but I don’t mind watching it again.”

  Colt focused on the case. The movie elicited a reaction in him, but it wasn’t the one Bobbi’d expected. His countenance hardened, eyes flashed with anger.

  “Put that away,” he growled. “I don’t wanna be reminded of that shit.”

  “What shit?” Had she missed something? “You mean law enforcement? The doctor said you’ll be able to go back to work. After physical therapy, you’ll be good as—”

  “Not that.” He closed his eyes. “Of what a reckless jackass I was.” With his left arm, the only one he hadn’t broken, he gestured at his mummified body. “This is my fault.”

  “No, it’s—”

  “I brought that crazy bitch into our lives. And I didn’t just hurt myself, the kid got hurt too.”

  He meant Carlo, who’d been treated and released after the attack last week. “Just a fractured elbow. He’s fine.”

  “Yeah. But it could’ve been worse. If Lewis hadn’t been there, the kid’d be dead.”

  “But he’s not.” Bobbi tried holding Colt’s hand, but he shook her off. “And this isn’t your fault.”

  “I knew she was nuts.” He swiveled his head just enough to meet her gaze. “But I didn’t give a shit, ’cause she was an easy lay with big tits. Tell me I didn’t get what I deserved.”

  “Not this.” Bobbi shook her head. “You didn’t deserve this.”

  Colt snorted dryly. “Whatever.” He pointed at the DVD case. “Forget about the movie. The TV show too.”

  Bobbi’s eyes automatically darted to the television mounted on the opposite wall. “What show?”

  “Sex in the Sticks. I’m done. I’m revoking my participation waiver.”

  The blood in Bobbi’s veins froze. “That’s the morphine talking, right?” Without that waiver, she couldn’t use a single minute of the footage the crew had shot of Colton. The entire summer would be wasted, the project tanked.

  “I’m not screwing around, Gallagher.”

  “But, that means I can’t—”

  “I know what it means.” His once playful gaze was hard as slate. Colder than she’d ever imagined possible. “I made an ass of myself, and I won’t have it slapped on TV. I’m done embarrassing my family. I’m done. Understand?”

  Bobbi’s lips parted, but the lump in her throat blocked any sound from escaping. Colton had been her star playboy. His antics were crucial to the project. Without him, she had nothing. Her one chance to redeem herself and kick-start her ailing career would be gone.

  “I don’t wanna get a lawyer,” he threatened, “but if you fight me on this, I will.”

  When she was finally able to speak, her voice sounded breathy and fragile. “I won’t fight you.” Even if she wanted to, the show wasn’t worth Colton’s soul.

  “Good.” He hitched one thumb toward the door. “You should probably go now.”

  “Just like that?”

  “I wanna be alone.” He closed his eyes again, shutting her out. “Tell my folks too.”

  She held on a few moments, hoping he’d change his mind, but he behaved as if she’d already left, returning his blank gaze to the window. After collecting her purse, she stood and shuffled to the door.

  “Bye, Colton.” Despite his frigid change of heart, she’d miss him. “I hope you feel like yourself again soon.”

  “I won’t.” He left her with five final words. “That fool’s gone. Good riddance.”

  ***

  That evening, Trey let her cry on his shoulder, even though it put a damper on their last night together. In turn, she listened as he detailed the latest drama between his parents, who were duking it out over whether or not Mrs. Lewis would keep her last name. It seemed Colonel Lewis’s fiancée—yes, the cheating jerk had already proposed to his mistress—didn’t want to share her name with an ex-wife. Trey’d left a scathing message for his father, but hadn’t heard back yet. Bobbi felt awful for Trey, not to mention his mother, despite the woman’s nasty judgment of her.

  After dinner, she and Trey stretched out on the sofa and cuddled together like spoons, his strong arms wrapped around her from behind. A single, flickering candle illuminated the living room while Mumford & Sons sang softly from the stereo.

  “I’m screwed,” Bobbi said for the tenth time. “No offense, but you didn’t give me much to work with. We pinned everything on Colton.”

  Trey kissed the top of her head. “It’s a setback, but look at what happened to Colt. Doesn’t that put things in perspective? At least we’re all okay.”

  Snuggling closer against him, Bobbi grumbled in reluctant agreement. He was right. It was a miracle Barbara hadn’t killed them all.

  “And once this blows over,” he continued, “you can work on him some more. I’ll bet he’ll change his mind. Right now, he’s mad at the world.”

  “No.” Bobbi ran her fingernails through the blond hair on Trey’s forearm. “He’s mad at himself. That’s worse.”

  “Either way, I don’t wanna spend another minute talking about Colton.” He tugged her shoulders, helping her rotate on the couch until she faced him. “I don’t wanna spend another minute talking at all.”

  Curling one hand behind her neck, he pulled her mouth to his, nipped her lips gently before his tongue sought hers and curled in a seductive dance. Her body responded without conscious thought, softening and molding to his form, her lips parting to welcome him, to take more, always more.

  While cherishing her mouth, he brushed his callused fingers over her face with unhurried precision, as if to commit each freckle and curve to memory. She did the same, caressing his gold-stubbled cheeks, the strong edge of his jaw, willing her hands to capture this moment and store it away forever. She hitched one leg around his waist to draw them together, compelled by her swollen heart to press as close to him as possible. But it wasn’t enough. She needed all of him. She rocked against his swelling erection, sparking to life a thousand nerve endings between her thighs.

  “I need you inside me,” she whispered against his mouth.

  “Soon,” he promised, then kissed each of her eyelids. “Let’s take our time tonight.”

  At her groan of protest, he sated her with a long thrust that sent a thrill of pleasure down the length of her legs and curled her toes.

  “Let me love you,” he said. “All of you, real slow.”

  “Yes.” Love me. She wanted that—Trey’s love.

  Tangling her fingers in his hair, she claimed his mouth again, absorbed his sweet taste, massaged his probing tongue with hers. He fed tenderly from her lips, his kiss sensual and into
xicating, his hands adoring as they stroked her hair, temple, throat. He treasured her with every touch, and now, Bobbi truly understood the difference between sex and lovemaking. They were making love this time, and it was beautiful.

  Trey broke the kiss, tipping their foreheads together. “God, Bobbi.” He pulled her closer, crushing the soft curves of her breasts to his solid chest. “I don’t wanna leave you.”

  She wrapped both arms around his neck and rolled him atop her, desperate to bear his weight. “I don’t want you to go either.”

  He rose onto his elbows above her, cupping her cheek as his blue eyes searched her face for what felt like an eternity. Then he said something she hadn’t expected. “Ask me to stay.”

  “What?”

  “Ask me to stay, and I will.” He brushed a thumb across her lower lip. “I want to be with you, Bo. I love you so hard it hurts.”

  At his words, her heart warmed, spreading tingly heat throughout every cell in her body. He loved her. The backs of her eyes prickled, her throat thickening until she could barely breathe. He gazed down at her as if nothing else existed, and she recognized that look—it was the one her brother gave June. The way she never thought a man would regard her.

  “Ask me,” he pressed.

  “But what about your record?” Reputation meant everything to Trey. If he broke his contract, he couldn’t clear the other-than-honorable discharge from his military file. And then what? A lifetime of employer rejection? He’d be trapped in a stagnant career, all because of her.

  “I don’t care anymore,” he said. “Nothing matters but you.”

  Stay! Stay with me! The words crouched on her tongue, poised to leap, but then she heard Mrs. Lewis’s voice echo inside her head, and she couldn’t speak over it. Life doesn’t usually give second chances, his mother had said. Don’t let another Gallagher ruin your future. Don’t be like your father and give up everything that matters for a few quick rolls in the hay. I promise she’s not worth it.

  “Baby,” Trey kissed her lips and breathed, “please tell me to stay.”

  She had a better solution, though it involved delayed gratification. “Let’s keep in touch while you’re gone, then pick up where we left off.”

  “No.” He didn’t hesitate, shook his head firmly. “I tried that before. It doesn’t work. I’m not going to risk losing you. Let’s start our life right now.”

  He didn’t believe she’d wait for him, probably because of that damned Mindy Roberts. “I’m not her,” Bobbi promised. “We can make it work.”

  “No.” The resolution in his voice said he’d made up his mind. “I’m not leaving you.”

  Tempted as she was, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t be the one who stood between Trey and his second chance to start fresh. Not only would his mother hate her, but Trey would come to resent her for his decision, many years from now, when she’d saddled him with the responsibilities of marriage and children. That life would make it impossible for him to take advantage of the opportunity he was so willing to throw away right now. She refused to turn their love into regret.

  So Bobbi did something that tore her soul in two. She met his desperate gaze and said, “I like you, Trey. We’ve had a lot of fun this summer, and I don’t want it to end, but this is getting way too heavy for me.” When his eyes widened in obvious pain, she struck again. “We promised no strings. Remember? I need you to keep your word.”

  ***

  Trey’s lungs deflated into empty sacks. You don’t love me? formed silently on his lips, as if his brain knew hearing it aloud would prove too much to bear.

  “The sex is amazing,” Bobbi went on, “but that doesn’t mean we should start throwing around the L word.”

  Sex? That’s all their affair had meant to her?

  She grabbed his ass and started grinding against his hard-on like nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t just ripped his heart from his open chest, thrown it to the ground, and stomped it with her strappy little high-heeled sandal. Then she said, “Let’s not ruin our last time, okay?”

  Too late.

  He pushed off of her and retreated to the far end of the sofa.

  “Hey.” She sat up and rested her fingers on his back. “Don’t be like that. I really do like you. I want us to stay friends.”

  He drew just enough air to tell her, “I don’t need any more friends.”

  Did she really think they could pal around after this? That he could survive it? He knew what would happen. Each time he healed a little, he’d see her again, and she’d tear off the scab. It would keep happening until he bled to death, one excruciating drop at a time. This was why smart guys didn’t hook up with their best friends’ sisters. As long as Luke was in his life, Bobbi would be too. Trey was an idiot to let this happen.

  “That’s not gonna work for me,” he said. “I need a clean break.”

  “Sure.” Her tanned face blanched, but she straightened and gave a curt nod like they’d just closed a business deal. And to think Luke had thought his sister was damaged and vulnerable. “If that’s what you want, then I won’t—”

  “Right now. It won’t be any easier in the morning.” He stood and walked to the front door numbly. As much as his body begged him to make love to Bobbi one last time, as desperately as he craved her touch, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t give any more of himself to her, or he’d be left with nothing.

  She took the hint and found her handbag. But just as Trey remembered she’d parked in the garage, not on the street, someone from outside pounded on the door, startling them both.

  Trey squinted one eye and checked the peephole. It was Luke, and he looked madder than a cut snake. “Shit.”

  “I know she’s in there!” Luke yelled from the front stoop, alerting half the neighborhood. “Open the damn door!”

  Trey hung his head and sighed. What the hell, he might as well get it over with. At least this night couldn’t get any worse. Opening the door, he faced his furious best friend. At once, Luke’s eyes found Bobbi, who stood by Trey’s side. She was clothed, but her rumpled blouse and frazzled hair showed what they’d been up to a few minutes earlier. As the saying went, the jig was up.

  “Come out here,” Luke said to Trey. “So I can kick your ass.”

  Bobbi pushed herself between them in a Hail Mary attempt to diffuse the situation. “Don’t be an idiot! There’s nothing going on between us. And even if there was, it’d be none of your—”

  “Nothing going on?” Luke screamed, raking one hand through his hair and setting it on end. “Do you know what I just saw?” He scrubbed his face and shook his head as if desperate to clear it. “My computer crashed, so I borrowed your laptop—”

  Bobbi interrupted him with a loud gasp. “Oh no!”

  “Oh yes!” Luke held a pair of imaginary knives and made stabbing motions toward his own eyeballs. “Christ, Bo, I can’t un-see that! I’ll never be the same!”

  Trey scrunched his forehead in confusion, but then understanding penetrated his foggy brain, and his stomach settled somewhere in the vicinity of his crotch. Bobbi hadn’t deleted the dirty video they’d made. And, sweet Jesus, Luke had seen it?

  Trey spun on her. “You put it on your laptop?” Why would she do that? “Please tell me it’s not on the Internet!”

  “Of course I didn’t put it online! That was just for me!”

  “Get your ass out here, Trey!” Luke backed up into the lawn and started flexing his fingers, gearing up for a fight. “Or I’ll come in there and drag you out.”

  Damn it. Trey knew two things about his oldest friend—one, he didn’t back down from a fight, and two, he had a left hook like a bazooka. But Trey would take the punishment. It was probably no less than he deserved.

  “Fine.” Trey jogged down the four front steps leading to his lawn. He pointed to his jaw and approached Luke. “I’m not gonna fight you, b
ut I’ll give you one free shot.”

  He’d expected Luke to balk and tell him that shit was for pansies, but instead, the man he’d considered a brother drew back and delivered a blow to Trey’s cheek that had stars exploding behind his eyelids. He reeled backward, flailing to remain upright, while white-hot lightning bolts singed his nerves. Once he’d steadied himself, he worked his throbbing jaw back and forth, trying to determine whether it was broken. A persistent popping noise told him he’d at least dislocated it.

  “Son of a bitch!” Luke cradled his fingers against his chest. “You broke my hand!”

  “Well, I hope you’re not looking for an apology, you jackass! I think you broke my face!”

  One of Trey’s neighbors, old Mrs. Denton across the street, stood on her front stoop, shaking her cordless telephone in the air. “I’m callin’ the law!”

  “That’s not necessary, ma’am,” Trey called out. “But thanks all the same.”

  “One thing!” Luke said, still protecting his hand. “I asked you for one thing—don’t bang my sister—and you couldn’t handle that.”

  “Hey!” Bobbi stormed outside, pointing her black handbag at her brother. “I’m a grown woman, and who I bang is none of your business. We didn’t do anything wrong!”

  With his good hand, Luke pointed to the house. “Just get your shit and go home. This is between me and him.”

  Bobbi made one of those furious girly noises, part growl, part squeal, and even in the moon’s dim glow, Trey noticed an eerie redness creep from her neck to her hairline. “Get my shit and go home? Who the hell do you think you are?” Without giving her brother a chance to respond, she declared, “I will go home. To Inglewood. And it’ll be a cold day in hell before I come back here.” She bolted inside, and seconds later, the garage door opened, revealing her purple hatchback. She backed into the street and sped away without a backward glance.

  This wasn’t how he’d envisioned their last good-bye.

  “Just great,” Luke said. “Now look what you’ve done.” He stomped across the yard to where he’d parked his black F-250, half on the curb, half in the grass. He lumbered into the cab, and moments later, he was gone too. Just like that.