Lies of the Heart (Heart Romance #3)

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Lies of the Heart (Heart Romance #3) Page 8

by Laurie LeClair


  “Sorry about that, sunshine.”

  His body rubbed hers as she made her way deeper into the musty-smelling area, a hallway of some kind she suspected.

  “We’re coming to some steps,” he said. “Two more feet in front of you and you’re there.”

  She grabbed his free one, clutching tightly to the warmth and safety. With her other hand, she felt around, and then grabbed ahold of the railing. Wood, smooth to the touch.

  With halting steps, she climbed the stairs. One protested loudly at their combined weight. “Guess I’ll have to fix that,” he murmured. She counted twelve in all before he said, “One more, then you have we’ll be at the door.”

  “Now can I look?”

  “Nope.”

  “For crying out loud, Chance, don’t keep me in suspense.” The longer he made her wait, the worse the anticipation tripped along her nerve endings.

  “Oh, believe me, it will be worth the wait.” The statement held an unmistakable double meaning.

  Tessa sighed heavily; she suspected he’d tell her when he was good and ready. But, darn it all, she hated being kept in the dark, literally and figuratively.

  Just then, he shifted, releasing her hand. She heard the jangle of keys, and then him inserting one in a lock. Suddenly, he shoved the door hard. Wood rubbed against sticking wood and a cool breeze, and what she thought was light, washed over her.

  He nudged her. Tentatively, she inched forward. “What is it?” she asked after she’d taken several baby steps.

  With a flourish, he whipped away his hand, saying, “Home.”

  Tessa squinted at the brilliant beams of sunshine streaming in through the tall windows, blinking several times to adjust to the sudden light. Looking around, she stood in a large room littered with boxes and what looked like years of accumulated dust. The brick walls and wood floor brought a tug to her heart. Wonderful possibilities flashed through her mind at what she could create in this place. Home.

  “It’s not much,” he said, hesitancy echoed in his voice. She turned to look at him then, witnessing the uncomfortable shrug. “There’s more.” He jerked his chin to his left. “A couple rooms: kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom.”

  Giving him her best smile, she said, “It’s great.”

  Relief washed over his features. He moved into the room, passing by her and going to one of the four long windows. She followed his every move. “I wouldn’t say it’s exactly great. You know it’s going to get noisy some nights with the pub directly under us.”

  So that’s where he’d taken me. Staring around in wonder, she said, “All these years I never knew this was here.”

  “Granddad rented it out for a while, but the tenants complained about the racket. In those early days, it could get pretty rowdy downstairs. After that he just used it as storage.”

  He shrugged self-consciously, and then scratched the back of his head. “Ah…unless you have any objections, I thought you could use this room as a dance studio.”

  A mixture of shock and pure joy rushed through her. She went to open her mouth, but nothing came out. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. Finally, she choked out, “How did you know?”

  He grinned. Holding out his palm about three feet horizontally to the floor, he said, “The little one. You know, blonde hair, big blue killer eyes, and dimples that could bring down any grown man.”

  Warmth stole through her. His voice held a hint of admiration and longing. He’s not immune to kids after all. “Sydney, Bree’s daughter.”

  “That’s the one. And the boy, I think they call him the eleven-year-old-going-on-forty.” Wistfulness colored his words. It was there all right, the yearning for a child of his own. That struck a chord deep within her.

  “Sean, he’s Jewel’s and Devon’s son. Sometimes he seems too big for his britches. He certainly has a good head on his shoulders, though.”

  “Well, while we were waiting for our grannies to stop fighting yesterday they sort of told me that you loved to teach dance classes, but your granny forbids you to do it at her house. And lately you’ve been having trouble with finding a suitable place.” He threw out his arms, saying, “So, why not here?”

  Biting her bottom lip, she searched his gaze. Her middle fluttered. Clearing her throat, she asked, “But, what about living here? I mean, this would be your home, too. You’d have to live in less space and have little girls in tutus jumping and running around.”

  He jerked his chin through the doorway toward the direction where he indicated the other rooms were. “There’s enough room for both. As far as the other, well, I’ll be working a lot and as long as you run around in them, too, I’ve got no complaints.”

  The heat of his stare seared her to her toes. “No tutus for me.”

  “No, just skin-tight leotards that hug every damn delicious inch of you, right, sunshine?”

  She gasped and suddenly it was difficult to breathe. With slow, deliberate steps he came toward her. His gray eyes darkened, sending an answering ache straight to her core. Just one look and she melted.

  He advanced. She backed up a step, hitting a pile of boxes. One of them tumbled to the floor, landing with a loud thump. She glanced over her shoulder, searching for a way to navigate through the clogged passage.

  Chance caught up with her before she made a dash for it. He grabbed her, his long fingers wrapping around her upper arms. A scorching heat ripped right through her peach sweater.

  Only her labored breathing sliced the thick, tension-filled air. Bravely, she tilted her head back. Higher and higher she looked, skimming over his wide chest in his crisp white shirt, bare throat, and to his strong jaw. Then she landed on his lips, firm and slightly parted now. He was saying something, something she couldn’t quite make out.

  Shaking her head, she made a small whimpering sound in the back of his throat. Just then she encountered his gaze. Tessa sucked in a sharp breath at the undisguised yearning in them.

  “I want you, sunshine,” he whispered hoarsely, drawing closer. “Do you know just how hard it was to sleep beside you all night long and not be able to kiss you, to caress every silky inch of your body, to love you?” The last came out even huskier. She shivered as his hot breath fanned over her.

  Lost in his words and that heated stare, she reached out for him. This time he sucked in a sharp breath. Running her hands over his hard chest, she reveled in the newfound luxury. Hard muscles expanded beneath her questing fingertips as he gulped in breath after breath. His body heat bathed her as he wrapped his arms around her.

  “Chance,” she whispered his name. He groaned, pulling her closer still. Nearly crushed to him, she felt every incredible inch of the man. He throbbed against her.

  “Say it again,” he begged, leaning down.

  Just as she said it again, he captured her lips, swallowing the word. This kiss differed from the last. Gentleness had no place here. He took her, slicing open the entrance to her mouth with his tongue. She allowed him access, allowed herself to be swept away.

  Every little thing about him imprinted itself on her mind. His fresh scent intoxicated her. The hot, wild taste of him made her hunger for more. His hands on her back left blazing trails of desire. His rock-hard thighs cradled her between his legs. And his pulsating hardness sent an answering ache clear to her core.

  She wound her arms around his neck. Now flush with his chest, her breasts swelled even more. Something near pain shot through them. If only he’d touch her there…

  He must have read her mind; he shifted his hand, gliding it upward and to her breast. He filled his palm with her and moaned into her mouth. Rubbing his thumb over her nipple, he had her shuddering.

  In the distance, she swore she heard someone coughing, but paid it no mind. When she sensed him withdrawing by slow degrees, she rose up on tip-toe, trying to bring him back. But she failed.

  Breaking apart, he swiftly gazed over her head and to the doorway. His labored breathing rent the air. Hers matched his.

  “I th
ought I heard something drop up here,” Walter said, his voice more like a grumble. Tessa stilled.

  Clamping her eyes shut, she kicked herself mentally for being caught. It was one thing to act this way alone with Chance and yet completely another to have an audience. Walter was certain to spread the word, and quick.

  Turning to face him, she swiped a curl out of her eyes and pinned a smile on her mouth. His dark, narrowed gaze shot through her like a branding iron. She refused to be thrown off in front of him. Falling back on her trusty humor, she said, “Hello, Walter. So sorry you missed the wedding. But now that we’re practically neighbors, so to speak, I guess we’ll be seeing lots more of each other.”

  If she thought he couldn’t scowl any more than he already was, she was sadly mistaken. “Neighbors? What’s she talking about, Chance?”

  At her back, Chance stiffened at the sharp questions. He put his big, strong hands on her shoulders and squeezed tight. His support helped her more than she could say. “We’re moving in here—”

  “The hell you are!” Walter clutched at his red suspenders. “Ain’t no way Gabe wanted his pub overrun with the likes of a Warfield and we both know it.”

  Something shriveled up inside of Tessa. He didn’t say anything that she knew anyone else wouldn’t be saying soon. But to hear the blatant animosity in his voice firsthand certainly chilled her to the bone.

  “You’re right,” she said. Her admission brought his eyebrows up a couple of notches.

  “Say that again.”

  “I said you’re right. But he never planned on my granny shooting Chance if he spends another night in her house, either. So, I’d say in this case, Old Gabe wouldn’t mind a bit, now would he?”

  Chance’s soft chuckle tickled her ear. “Put like that I’m sure Granddad can overlook this invasion, don’t you, Walter?”

  The old man snorted. “Hell, he’d bend over backwards for his only grandson. Did many a time as it was.” He mumbled several things under his breath, and then said, “I guess I’ll have to live with it.” He wagged a finger at Tessa, saying, “But don’t you forget, I don’t want you interfering behind my bar.”

  Rising her hands, palm side out, she said, “Oh, I wouldn’t hear of it.” Dropping her hands, she called him back when he made to leave, “Oh and, Walter, thanks for such a nice welcome. I’m really going to enjoy seeing you every day.”

  When he grumbled some more, she giggled. He left then, shooting her a disgruntled look.

  “Imp,” Chance said, turning her around in his arms. The wide smile he wore transformed his features. All the clinging sadness seemed to have disappeared for a moment. His eyes shone with undisguised delight and latent desire. She swallowed hard, vividly recalling what it felt like to taste him, to touch him. He tapped her on the nose. “You, my wife, are enjoying his discomfort way too much.”

  Rising her brows, she asked, “Who? Me?”

  His hearty laughter washed over her, sweeping away the disquieting feelings from Walter’s unexpected appearance. Gathering her in his arms, Chance held her tight, kissing her temple. He might as well have kissed her heart for the effects were the same, warming her to her very soul.

  “Well, sunshine, it looks like we’ve got a mess to clean up here. You up for it?”

  Pulling back reluctantly, she nodded. “Lead on.”

  He scanned the length of her, lingering over the rise and fall of her breasts, as her breathing became more and more difficult. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to her, he spoke again. “Ah…maybe I should bring you back to your granny’s so you can change out of that long skirt and into some jeans.”

  Reflex had her looking down and smoothing her long, chocolate brown skirt. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing anyway?”

  “It’s fine.” He cleared his throat. “Actually, it’s more than fine.” His husky timber alerted her to the swirling desire between them. Gazing into his eyes, she gulped hard.

  “But?”

  “Not for cleaning. So let’s get those jeans of yours and we can get this show on the road.”

  Tilting her head and lifting her shoulders, she said, “I don’t have any jeans.”

  “Not even one pair?” His incredulous tone didn’t surprise her one bit. Most people reacted the same once they found out.

  “None.”

  He blew out a breath while shaking his head. “Let me guess, granny doesn’t approve.”

  “Got it in one.”

  Winking at her, he said, “Well, sunshine, you’ll just have to borrow a pair of mine, that’s all.” The way he looked her over made her wonder if he’d volunteer to undress, and then redress her himself. When he caught her stare, she swore that’s what he had in mind. A shiver of anticipation rushed through her.

  Chapter 11

  Chance clutched the brown paper sack between his teeth. While trying to balance both large Styrofoam cups of cola in one hand, he twisted the doorknob and flung it open.

  He blinked several times. Tessa was nowhere to be found. And the piles of boxes had nearly disappeared from sight. Shifting the bag to his hand, he stepped further into the sunny room, and then kicked the door shut behind him. “Yo, sunshine,” he called out.

  Suddenly, off to his right, she straightened from an open box. “Hey, over here.” She waved him over, and then went back to work.

  With each step, he tried not to stare. He failed. Her sexy little bottom in his oversized jeans seemed to be the only thing he could look at. The rope through the belt loops wrapped around her several times and held the otherwise loose jeans up. The rolled up cuffs of the overlong denim looked kinda cute on her. “Just my luck,” he muttered under his breath. “She looks even hotter like this, than in a skirt.”

  She popped her head back up again, twisting to him. “Did you say something?” Swiping the back of her hand across her forehead, she left a streak of dirt.

  He drew nearer, handing her the bag. Rising his hand, he rubbed the smudge away with his thumb. The feel of her satiny skin sent shafts of yearning through him. “Just talking to myself, that’s all.” He tried to keep his voice even, but failed to stop it from growing huskier by the minute.

  Her mischievous smile told him she knew the effort it cost him. “I’m starving. Let’s eat.” He followed her lips as they formed each word, but once he looked into her sparkling eyes he wondered if she’d been talking about food. A hot dagger of desire sliced through his middle.

  Before he could do anything about it, she swept past him and started rearranging boxes for a makeshift table and chairs. All the while, he watched her move, dumbfounded.

  Once he’d heard she didn’t own a pair of jeans, he immediately decided to remedy that horrible offense. But now he wasn’t as certain as he watched mesmerized at the sway of her hips.

  When she was done, she twirled to him, waving a hand. “Ta-dah!” Her hair, tied up in a small piece of the rope, whipped around and she brushed it back as if it were no more than a pesky nuisance.

  His grin came fast and easy. “You are to be commended on such a fine table, Madame,” he teased, bringing a delicate smile to her lips.

  “But of courze,” she said in a thick accent. “Mizz Tezza is the best. Shall we dine, sir?”

  “But of courze,” he repeated, trying to hide the chuckle in his tone.

  Minutes later, she bit into the thick, meat-filled grinder. She closed her eyes and moaned. “So good,” she mumbled in between chewing. Opening her eyes she briefly clamped a hand over her mouth for a second. “Oops! Shouldn’t be talking with my mouth full.”

  Sitting across from her, he stared at her lips for a long moment, and then shook himself. Just the way she moved captured every bit of his attention and had his thoughts careening off into forbidden territory. He shrugged, and then tried to focus on something neutral to talk about while being this close.

  Nodding to her meal, he said, “If you can believe it, granddad used to make even better. In fact, his was so good he couldn’t kee
p up with the business, so he dropped the food part and stuck with the pub…” he trailed off, an idea streaking through his thoughts.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” She grabbed a paper napkin and mopped up nonexistence crumbs on her chin and mouth.

  “No, it’s not you. It’s just…well I’ve been trying to find ways to increase the business here.” He stopped and dropped his cold cut grinder back on the wrapping paper. Blowing out a hot breath, he started at the beginning. “These last few weeks I’ve been going over everything with a fine tooth comb to try to figure out why the pub is losing money.”

  “And now you’ve made a connection between serving food again, right?”

  He grinned widely. “You got it, sunshine.” Picking up his grinder again, he took a large bite, and murmured his approval.

  “It’s got to be more than just the food, though.”

  “Yeah, most of the clientele has fallen off. I think it’s been mostly granddad’s friends coming in day after day.”

  “You could advertise, you know, offer specials or something. That’s what we do at the beauty salon when it’s slow. Two for one deals. People flock in then. Or how about theme nights with costumes and prizes and stuff or even a pool tournament? I did see a pool table the other night, didn’t I?”

  Stilling, Chance looked at her with new admiration. He hadn’t known she possessed much business know-how. After taking a sip of his cola, he said, “You know, I just realized we don’t know that much about each other.” He shrugged. “It’s been, what, ten years?” As if I could ever forget.

  “What do you want to know?” Her voice filled with trepidation.

  Waving his hand, he said, “The usual. What have you been doing? How have you been living? Any boyfriends? And if they were serious?” He tried to slip the last two questions in nonchalantly, but apparently by her stiffening he didn’t succeed. Something cold and hard landed square in his belly. He laid down the sandwich, losing his appetite.

  She chewed slowly, eyes downcast. But he knew by the stony expression on her face, she’d heard all right. She just didn’t like to bring it up. God, what could have happened to her? Who had hurt her?

 

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