BARELY BEHAVING

by Jennifer Labrecque

  God help him, but it was a subtle form of mental torture that he'd seen her naked before and now she was close and real and he wanted to see her naked again. But more than that, even though he'd spent the whole evening talking and laughing with her, he had the distinct impression several layers concealed the real Tammy Cooper. She'd been blunt and free and easy with personal information, but she'd only let him see what she wanted him to see.

  Longing, unlike any he'd known before, gripped him. He reached out to touch her cheek, the yearning to test the satin of her skin against his finger and feel the fullness of her mouth against his almost a physical ache. Her lips were so close, so tempting, he could feel her warm breath against his mouth, could almost taste her…

  At the last minute, sanity prevailed and he reached for the paper instead. He'd almost made a total ass of himself by repaying her courtesy and hospitality by making a pass at her.

  For a moment something flickered across her face. Disappointment? Vulnerability? Niall's own emotions were so tossed, he wasn't sure. He just knew he needed to get out of here. "Thank you. For everything."

  Tammy escorted him to the front door, once again in control, her unguarded moment gone. "You're welcome for everything." She leaned forward, her body maddingly close. Her scent, her heat drew him closer till the tips of her nipples seared him through their layers of clothes. With a soft laugh, Tammy tugged his head down, her fingers soft against his neck. She pressed a quick, hot kiss to his mouth. The kiss was almost over before it'd begun. She opened the door for him. "Good night, Niall. My number's on the paper. Give me a call if you need anything."

  At that moment Niall realized the distinct difference between want and need.

  * * *

  Tammy welcomed her regular work routine the next morning. Last night's dinner with Niall had left her restless. For the first time since she'd moved into her house, she'd known the discontent of her own company once he'd gone home. Worse yet, self-pleasure with Big Ben had fallen short of the mark, merely accentuating the longing Niall had stirred in her. Two D-cell batteries couldn't mimic his breath stirring against her neck or the cautious heat in his dark eyes. She'd been so sure he was going to kiss her. She'd practically trembled with anticipation. She'd been so surprised when he hadn't… He'd left her no option except to kiss him instead and give him something to think about overnight. She'd certainly thought about it. And now she had a business to think about.

  Tammy unlocked the old-fashioned, glass-fronted door that faced the town square. Saturdays were always booked and today was no exception. One of the smartest business decisions she'd made was taking Fridays off and opening Saturdays to accommodate clients' work schedules or stay-at-home moms who needed to leave the kidlets with dad to make an appointment.

  Her first appointment, Willette Tidwell, was in fifteen minutes, which meant Tammy had half an hour to kill, since Willette would be late to her own funeral when the time came.

  She knelt on the Harlequin-tiled floor and leaned in to arrange an orange-ginger scented gift set beneath the Christmas tree in the narrow window front. Just enough time to finish the Christmas display. She'd sold three gift sets already this week.

  The bell tinkled as the door opened behind her. She twisted around. Uh-oh. Lowell Evans.

  "Hey, Tammy."

  "What's up, Lowell?" She rose to her feet, sure she knew why Lowell had stopped by. She'd told him she wouldn't go out with him until her divorce was final. She was a free woman today.

  "Heard your divorce came through." Bingo. The gleam in his bedroom-blue eyes bordered on predatory.

  Why wasn't his frank appraisal and appreciation eliciting even a quiver, especially after her ten and a half month hiatus? Once upon a time, that look had left her hot and bothered. Now it just left her bothered.

  Tammy laughed, shaking her head. "I know news travels fast in this town, but it was just yesterday."

  "Yeah, well, Earl mentioned it at Cecil's last night."

  She'd celebrated by sunbathing naked. Earl had celebrated with a beer or two at Cecil's Bar and Grill. Actually, Earl wouldn't have stopped at two unless he'd changed drastically in the past year. That'd been yet one more irreconcilable difference when they'd split up. Earl had grown increasingly fond of a inebriation. She'd grown up with a drunk—she loved Pops but she'd spent one too many nights as a child and a teenager looking after an alcoholic—by God, she wasn't going to remain married to one. She hadn't considered sobriety and faithfulness unreasonable requests.

  She almost asked Lowell just how wasted Earl had been, but left it alone. Frankly, Scarlett, she didn't give a damn.

  Instead she looked at Lowell, which wasn't a hardship 'cause Lowell was a bonafide hottie. A tough guy in a tight-jeans-and-tattoo, badass kind of way. Actually, just the kind of guy she'd always been attracted to. Past tense. Lowell wasn't doing a thing for her now.

  "You're looking good, babe." He leaned against the door with a swagger and raked her with hungry eyes. "Hot. So, now that you're footloose and fancy-free, how about you and me going out?"

  Lowell was the spitting image of Brad Pitt and she'd always had a thing for Brad. Her hormones should've been having a field day at the prospect of going out with him. She'd always maintained a gal had to grab a chance when it presented itself. Now, here was Lowell, opportunity personified, and she wasn't interested.

  Not the way she'd been interested when she'd felt Niall's heat in the close confines of her kitchen last night or when she'd kissed him by the front door. That memory alone notched up her temperature.

  She shook her head. "I don't think so."

  Lowell's cocky grin faded. "You don't think so?"

  He wasn't nearly so sexy with his mouth hanging open.

  "That's right." She turned to straighten the magazines on the table between the two armchairs. Her waiting room was small, but that was okay. There was never more than one person waiting at a time.

  "Why the hell don't you want to go out with me?"

  Because she'd fricking said so should've been good enough. Lowell's arrogant incredulity was beginning to work her nerves. "Lowell, I don't owe you an explanation. I've said no so leave it at that."

  Lowell wasn't a happy camper. He wasn't used to being turned down.

  "I may not still be interested when you decide you are," he warned, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child.

  His attitude weakened his case and strengthened her resolve. A grown man sulking was so not sexy. "I'll take that chance."

  "Baby, I could play you like a violin. You don't know what you're missing."

  "I'm pretty sure I do." Lowell struck her as remarkably similar to Earl, Jerry, Allen and all the other men in between. Same book, different page. And suddenly she was ready to read a different book.

  Willette—on time for once in her life—peered through the glass door, questioning whether she should come in.

  Tammy waved her in. "My appointment's here," she said dismissing Lowell and his attitude.

  Willette strolled in. Lowell got in the last word as he stomped out. "Give me a call when you change your mind. Maybe I'll be available."

  "What was that all about?" Willette asked before the door shut behind him.

  Tammy had known Willette all her life. Married to Bob Tidwell right after high school, Willette had three children, owned a nice house in a new subdivision on the outskirts of town, served as president of the PTA, taught Sunday school at the Baptist church and lived vicariously through Tammy.

  Willette was sweet, a little naive and a lot nonjudgmental, so Tammy often supplied her with the ongoing dramas in her life, usually spicing them up for Willette's benefit.

  "Lowell asked me out."

  "Well, he didn't look happy."

  "I turned him down."

  Willette gaped. "Nobody turns Lowell down."

  "Well, I just did." She wasn't going to argue the point that it was a crazy thing to do. "You've got a smudge of lipstick on your front tooth." W
illette scrubbed at it with her finger.

  "But he's…" Willette stumbled and Tammy came to her rescue.

  "Hot?"

  "Ye-ah. Definitely hot." Willette stared at her expectantly.

  "What?" Tammy threw her hands up. "I didn't want to go out with him."

  "You sure you're feeling okay today?"

  "Never better." She'd always done what she wanted—the consequences be damned—and she didn't want to go out with Lowell. "Maybe I've been good for so long now, I've forgotten how to be bad."

  "I don't think there's any danger of that happening," Willette giggled. "Hey, Bob heard the new vet's your neighbor."

  News in Colthersville traveled faster than the speed of light. "Uh-huh."

  "So, have you met him?"

  "In the flesh." And that was truer than even Willette could handle.

  "Come on. Tell all. What's he like?"

  Tammy bit back a grin and pasted on a bland expression. This could be fun. "He sort of reminds me of a troll. Short, overweight, bad teeth, bad breath and a really bad disposition."

  "Wouldn't you know it? Damn."

  "Willette, you're a married woman." Tammy pretended shock.

  "Yeah, but I'm not a dead woman. We've got two dogs, three cats and Kira talked her daddy into a guinea pig." Willette indulged in some eye-rolling on the guinea pig. Tammy couldn't blame her. "I spend a lot of time at the vet. I was hoping for eye candy. Why couldn't some hunky vet decide to move here instead of a troll—"

  The bell on the door tinkled, interrupting Willette's good-natured bitching. Uh-oh, busted. None other than the troll in question, looking most untroll-like wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. His charming smile with its hint of uncertainty weakened her knees and heated her blood.

  The awareness so conspicuously absent with Lowell earlier shivered through. Fine time for it to show up now. Shivering with Lowell would've been straightforward. She had the distinct feeling shivering with Niall would be a little more complicated.

  "Hi. I thought this might be your place. I wanted to stop in and say thanks for the directions to the grocery store."

  "No problem. I'm glad you're finding your way around town. Niall, this is Willette Tidwell. Willette, this is our new veterinarian, Dr. Niall Fortson."

  Tammy had to hand it to Willette. She kept her jaw from dropping and instead put a friendly smile on her face as she shook his hand. "Welcome to Colthersville. I'm the keeper of two dogs, three cats and a guinea pig—I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of you."

  Niall smiled and Tammy suffered that same crazy weak-kneed response. "I look forward to it." He opened the door behind him. "I don't want to hold you ladies up. See you later."

  Willette watched Niall walk away—no doubt admiring the impressive breadth of his shoulders, the fit of his jeans and the sheer sexy mass of him—and then turned to Tammy.

  "You are so dead."

  * * *

  4

  « ^ »

  Niall held onto the ladder's rung with one hand, leaned out and clipped the last of the Christmas lights on the upstairs gutter. "Hi!"

  Niall swayed and damn near embarrassed himself by falling off the ladder. Tammy crossed her lawn and stopped at his walkway.

  "Hi." He hoped his grin wasn't as goofy as it felt. She was home from work. Not that he'd been watching for her to come home since late afternoon. Not that he'd gone out of his way to stop in and see her at work this morning. Not that he didn't know from their conversation last night that she was the last woman he should find so fascinating.

  "Did you catch the Christmas fever?" she drawled with a naughty smile.

  She was fever-inducing inspiration itself in her clingy red sweater, short black skirt and high-heeled boots. Just as knock-him-to-his-knees sexy as he remembered her from this morning. But it'd been Christmas she'd asked about.

  "All the decorations inspired me," Niall admitted, climbing down the ladder. "The big tree in the town square. The decorations hanging from the lampposts. Makes you want to get into the spirit."

  "Want me to turn them on for you?"

  He nearly missed the last rung on the ladder. "Uh, sure. The outlet's on the porch. I'll get the ladder down."

  She climbed the porch steps and picked up the extension cord. Her short skirt hiked up, offering a glimpse of rounded thighs above black stockings. A chain reaction shuddered through his body.

  "I can't get it in. Hold on a minute. I think your prong is bent. There. That did it." Thank God, he couldn't stand much more of her straightening his bent prong. She glanced at him over her shoulder. "Are they turned on?"

  Strands of multicolored lights spread Christmas cheer across his roof in the waning daylight. Both he and his lights were turned on. She was driving him out of his mind.

  "Yes, that did it."

  Tammy strolled down the steps and stood on the walkway, arms crossed beneath her chest. "Nice job. They look great."

  Niall admired her admiring his lights, "They do, don't they?"

  A sudden, awkward silence descended, the topic of Christmas decorations having played itself out but both of them reluctant to walk away.

  "How was work?" Niall leaned against the porch rail and shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling like a fifteen-year-old dork instead of an accomplished man of thirty. Unfortunately he probably sounded that way as well. He wouldn't win any awards for brilliant conversation.

  "It was great. I almost feel guilty calling it work. The only downside is my hands are tired by the end of the day." She held them out and flexed her fingers with their bright red nails. "And Saturdays are super-busy."

  A minivan passed by. The driver waved and Niall waved back, although he didn't have a clue as to who it was.

  "Dieter Fry," Tammy said. "He and his wife and their four kids live two streets over. They're friends with the Tidwells—you met Willette today."

  "Right. She seemed like a nice lady."

  "Willette's great." Tammy smiled.

  "I hope it was okay that I stopped by."

  "No problem. You're welcome anytime, unless the door to the massage room is closed and the In-Session sign is up." She hesitated for a moment and then seemed to make up her mind about something. "Stop by on Monday after work for a free massage. Consider it a professional welcome. You'll probably be ready for it by then, at the end of your first day." Her lips were the same shade of red as her sweater.

  "That's very generous but the clinic doesn't close until six," he said.

  "My last appointment is at five. That gives me time to change the table and set up. Stop by around six forty-five."

  She was proposing he take off his clothes and lie on a table, so she could touch him all over—well, almost all over. He was neither a saint nor stupid. "Twist my arm. I'll be there." He ran his thumb over a patch of rough wood on the handrail. "Would you like to come in for a drink? That is, if you don't have plans."

  She was sexy, recently single and it was Saturday night. Righto.

  She shifted her purse on her shoulder and climbed the stairs. "No plans. I'd love a drink."

  "Good. Great. Come on in." Niall opened the door for her, his heart racing like an adolescent schoolboy in the throes of his first crush. Damn. His palms were sweaty.

  Gigi immediately pranced over. "Hello, Your Badness," Tammy greeted her.

  "Hope you don't mind wine out of a plastic cup. I still haven't unpacked." He gestured toward the boxes stacked in the living room. "I hate living out of boxes, but I hate unpacking even more."

  "It's all about priorities. Christmas lights or unpacking? I think you made the right choice," Tammy teased as she sidestepped his golf clubs that hadn't made it into the dining room yet.

  The sofa sat wedged between stacks of boxes. "I'm a little short on accommodations. If you won't be cold, we can fire up the chimenea on the back deck."

  Tammy tucked her hair behind her right ear. "I've been inside all day. I'd love to sit outside. Between my sweater and the fire, I should be warm enough."


  "Good." Her incredible smile and her sweater were certainly keeping him warm. He opened the kitchen door for her.

  "I love this room," she enthused as if it were a long-lost friend.

  "Funky but fun?" Her enthusiasm was contagious.

  "That's it." She turned to him. "It's impossible not to smile in here. It's therapeutic."

  "Okay," he admitted, "the turquoise and yellow are growing on me."

  Her smile broadened. "Ah, a convert. Now what can I do to help?"

  "It should only take a minute or so for me to start the fire."

  "I'm not in any hurry. Take as long as you need. Why don't I get the drinks ready while you get the fire going?" she offered.

  "Good deal. There's a bottle of Pinot Grigio in the fridge if you like white wine. Or there's beer if you'd prefer."

  Tammy dropped her head forward, massaged her nape and then rolled her head up in a slow, sinuous movement. "Chilled wine in front of a warm fire sounds heavenly. What can I get you?"

  Her husky-voiced question fired his imagination and it didn't have anything to do with beer or wine.

  "I'll take a glass of wine." Niall opened the door to the deck. "Plastic cups are in the cabinet above the dishwasher. I'm pretty sure I threw the new corkscrew up there beside them."

  "I'll manage. You start the fire and I'll be right out."

  He stepped into the descending twilight and closed the door behind him. The smell of his freshly mowed lawn permeated the crisp evening air.

  Niall welcomed the rush of cool air against his heated skin. He wanted Tammy with a fierceness that left him breathless and disconcerted. He'd never felt particularly fierce about anything or anyone before.

  He pushed away from the door and laid the fire. He'd situated the chimenea on the open corner of the deck closest to Tammy's house and away from the sprawling oak on the opposite corner.