Hungry Heart: Konigsburg, Texas, Book 8

by Meg Benjamin

  He shrugged. Andy had the feeling he was looking at her, but she couldn’t bring herself to glance his way to find out.

  “Sure,” Chico said. “Another experienced cook can’t hurt.”

  The King pushed himself to his feet. “All right then. It’s on. Looks like people are starting to take off now. That’s my cue to load stuff back in my truck.” He gave Darcy a quick grin. “Come on, apprentice. You never know what you might learn.”

  Darcy rolled her eyes, but followed him back across the yard with a quick goodbye wave in their direction.

  Andy sat very still, shoulders stiff. Her grandmother would tell her to stop being such a baby. So a few people stared and snickered, so what? Hadn’t she ever been stared at before?

  Actually, of course, she hadn’t been. She wasn’t the type of person who drew that kind of attention, or any kind of attention as far as that went.

  Chico was still watching her carefully, his eyes narrowed. After a moment, he sighed. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She licked her lips, wondering how to explain without sounding like she was criticizing him. It wasn’t his fault everybody was watching them. “Maybe it’s time for me to head on home too.”

  His frown deepened. “Can you wait a few minutes while I put stuff away?”

  “I could just walk,” she said quickly. “It’s not that dark yet. You’ve got stuff to do here.”

  He shook his head slowly. “Wait a few minutes. I’ll drive you.”

  She opened her mouth to object, then closed it again. Easier to just go with it. “Okay.”

  It took him ten minutes to clean up the serving area. The King had already taken away most of the pans. Chico picked up her casserole dish in his massive hands, nodding toward the gate. “We can head out here. It’s easier to just go through the alley.”

  She thought of offering to walk home again, but decided against it. He was being kind, and it wasn’t his fault she was having a meltdown. Chances were good he didn’t even realize she was, now that she thought about it. Her meltdowns tended to be quiet, like everything else about her. Nobody noticed.

  She glanced back at the crowd again and saw three or four heads quickly turn away. Lara Ziegler didn’t bother. She stared at them with her bright predator’s eyes.

  Andy gritted her teeth and followed Chico through the gate.

  She settled into the front seat of his truck, arranging the casserole dish next to her feet so that she wouldn’t have to look at him. She had an odd feeling she might cry if she did, and that was the very last thing she wanted to do tonight. It’s not his fault. Remember that.

  If he noticed that she was avoiding him, he didn’t say anything about it. Instead he drove through the quiet streets to her house—her grandmother’s house—pulling into the driveway and then turning off the ignition.

  “Okay,” he said quietly. “There’s nobody here now but you and me. Nobody’s watching you. Now tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I hate being stared at.” She blew out a long breath. “I’m not used to it.”

  “Yeah?” He frowned. “It was a little worse today than I anticipated, I’ll admit.”

  She sighed again. Her day for sighing, apparently. “Nobody looks at me usually. I mean I just do my job and that’s it. I’m used to fading into the woodwork.”

  He blinked. “You don’t strike me as the fade-into-the-woodwork type.”

  “Sure I do. I mean, I’m just sort of average.” She pressed a hand to her forehead, ordering herself not to tear up. “That sounds like I’m fishing for a compliment, but I’m not. I don’t know what I mean exactly.”

  “I think maybe I do,” he said slowly. “You’re not used to having people pay so much attention to you, not like they do when you’re out with me. People don’t stare at you usually. And they don’t talk about you.”

  She closed her eyes, then nodded.

  “I guess it does take some getting used to. I’ve been this big for most of my life, so I’m sort of accustomed to it.”

  She shook her head. “I’m being an idiot and I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “You’re being a normal person in an abnormal situation. For what it’s worth, I think most people will settle down once they get used to seeing us together.” He turned toward her in the gathering twilight. “That assumes we go on being seen together, I guess. Would you rather toss it in?”

  Her eyes widened. She hadn’t really thought about the possibility of not seeing him again. She really didn’t like thinking of it now. “No. I mean, that is, if you don’t want to… But I really…”

  She closed her eyes, trying to get herself to stop babbling as she listened to the sound of the mourning doves in the pecan tree around them. “I should go in,” she said finally.

  “Can I see you again?” His voice rumbled deep beside her.

  “If you want to.” She sighed. “That wasn’t what I meant to say. Yes, I’d really like to see you again. I’m sorry I messed this up.”

  He reached across the seat, running his fingers along her cheek. “You didn’t mess anything up. I had a good time—I like being with you.”

  She drew in a shaky breath, then blew it out. “Good. I’m glad. And I had a really good time tonight, all things considered.”

  She wrapped her hand around his, turning to look at him. “I like being with you too.”

  He leaned toward her slowly, giving her time to pull back. Which she didn’t want to do. Not even slightly.

  She tasted the slight flavor of salt and beer on his lips, smelled the wood smoke in his hair. And then she wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing closer, letting the kiss deepen as her skin warmed beneath his hands.

  Her body seemed to soften, heat sliding through her veins, her muscles, her bones. Another moment and she’d be a puddle of warmth on the seat. She snuggled closer to his chest, feeling the odd reassurance of his arms tightening around her.

  He lifted her gently, pulling her closer, one hand stroking the length of her side as he gazed down at her. “Tonight’s not right for doing this. I could come by tomorrow,” he said softly. “After work.”

  She closed her eyes. Damn, damn, damn. “I have to go to Austin tomorrow. I won’t be home again until Tuesday.”

  “Tuesday, then.”

  She nodded. “Tuesday.” She managed to take another breath. “I should probably go in now.”

  He ran his fingers across her cheek again, lightly. “If you want to.”

  “I’m not sure I do, but I should.”

  He chuckled, then let his smile fade. “I won’t hurt you, Andy. Not knowingly anyway.”

  She nodded. “I believe you.”

  “Good.” He turned to open the truck door. “And I’m pretty sure people will stop talking about us in a couple of days.”

  She blew out a breath. “Maybe so.”

  She watched him walk around the truck to open her door, wishing to god she didn’t have to work out of the Austin office tomorrow.

  Chapter Twelve

  Harris loaded the last three trays into the back of the truck. He’d wash up once he got home. His kitchen had a heavy-duty dishwasher that handled pots and pans just fine. He cast a last, regretful glance at his bean pot. He still had a couple of pints of beans, but he’d probably have to pitch them. They’d sat around too long to be good.

  Andy Wells knew how to make a mean pot of beans, that was for sure. Maybe he could get her to share that recipe. Although none of his customers at the truck had ever complained up to now.

  “Harris?”

  He stood still, staring into the truck’s interior. Not Docia. He would have recognized her voice, and besides she hadn’t been at the barbecue—he’d checked.

  “It is you, isn’t it?”

  He turned slowly. Deirdre Ames was watching him from the shadows next to the truck.

  “Hey, Deirdre.”

  “I didn’t recognize you before this when I saw you selling your barbecue from your truck. I gue
ss I wasn’t close enough to really see your face. I’m sorry I didn’t say hi before.”

  He took a careful breath, pushing his hat back farther. Why the hell hadn’t he remembered Deirdre was Docia’s cousin? “No problem.”

  “How long have you been doing this?” Her perfect brow furrowed slightly. “I thought you were still in Houston.”

  “I’ve been here a couple of years.” More or less.

  “I didn’t know you cooked.”

  He broke into a grin that might look normal to somebody who didn’t know him that well. “Doing ’cue isn’t exactly cooking. More like alchemy.”

  She nodded, on firmer ground now. “I love your brisket. Tom buys it for dinner some nights when we both have long hours.”

  “Thanks. I hear you guys are expecting.”

  Deirdre’s smile turned luminous. “In seven months. I’m over the moon. Or I will be when I stop puking.”

  He managed a chuckle. “Guess your dad’s happy about his first grandchild.”

  Her luminous smile dimmed. “Right. We’re already setting some limits on that. Daddy’s idea of what’s appropriate for a baby is sort of like something from Southfork.”

  The sound of steps on gravel made them both turn. Darcy pushed through the alley gate, carrying her slaw bowl. “Is this the last of it?”

  Blessed distraction. “That’s it.” He swiveled back to Deirdre. “Nice talking to you,” he lied.

  “You too.” She gave Darcy another of those luminous smiles. “Thanks for bringing the slaw, Darcy. It was wonderful.”

  “Just paying you back for all the coffee I’ve swilled at your place.” She turned toward him. “Give me a ride?”

  “Sure.” He nodded again at Deirdre, pulling his hat forward as Darcy climbed into the truck. “See you, Deirdre.”

  “Right.” But her smile was dry this time. He had a feeling she knew exactly how eager he was to get away from that conversation.

  He pulled the truck onto Main, glancing toward Darcy. “So where do you live exactly?”

  “Turn right on Spicewood, then another couple of blocks to Lometa. Am I really going to be on your barbecue team or were you just humoring me?”

  And we’re off. “Why Miss Darcy, you wound me to the quick. If I say you’re on the team, you’re on the team. We need somebody to scrub pots.”

  Darcy smirked. “Bite me. Do I get to cook ’cue?”

  He shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know what you get to do. But my guess is Chico does the pork for the contest and I do the brisket. From what I understand, though, we’ll be cooking a lot more meat than we enter—we have to feed all these people who come wandering through while we wait on the judging. We’ll probably need more of that slaw. Lots more.”

  “To feed the masses.”

  He nodded. “Right.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Are we getting paid for that part of it?”

  “Lordy, I hope so. Otherwise, I’m going to be coming in on the short end in this deal. We’ll probably need sponsors, though. Tom Ames said he was interested.”

  “Let me talk to Joe. He looked like he really wanted in on some of this at the barbecue. He might be willing to sponsor us too—I mean, the Rose would.”

  “Those deviled eggs were something else.”

  She sighed. “I knew you wouldn’t like them.”

  “What do you mean? I loved them. Hell, anything with jalapeño goes great around here.”

  Darcy frowned. “Every time I think I’ve got you figured out, you throw me a curve ball. Just stop it. Understand?”

  He grinned. “Understood. Where’s your house?”

  She pointed toward the end of the block. “Up there. The duplex.”

  He pulled into her driveway, suddenly feeling cautious. He could maybe ask to come in, but he’d rather she asked him in herself, with no prompting. He turned toward her, pasting on a smile he hoped was cocky.

  She arched an eyebrow, her lips edging up. “Well?”

  Crap. Trust Darcy to be difficult. “Well…”

  “Are you coming in or not?”

  He blinked. Whiplash. The woman could cause whiplash. “Well, sure, I mean…”

  She climbed out of the truck, heading up the stairs toward her front door. At least he assumed it was hers—it had a porch light. She glanced back at him again, almost as if she was daring him to follow her.

  Never let it be said that he’d passed up a dare. Particularly one like this.

  He jumped down from the truck, reminding himself not to run. Sauntering would have been better, but he didn’t think he could manage it. Maybe a fast saunter was called for.

  Darcy watched him, grinning. Well, damn. He paused on her top step. “Door unlocked?”

  She nodded.

  “Good.” He stepped beside her and reached down, sweeping her ankles out from under her, his other arm beneath her shoulders.

  She yelped in surprise, her expression somewhere between outraged and amused. He was hoping for amused. Fortunately, the doorknob wasn’t much of a barrier. He pushed the door open with his foot, then stepped inside, slamming the door with his hip.

  Darcy grimaced. “Okay. You made your point. You can put me down now.”

  He squinted at her in the dim light of her living room. She looked serious. “Any particular place you’d like to land?”

  She paused, considering, then shrugged. “You want a beer?”

  “Not if it means sitting around being polite.”

  “Not usually my thing.”

  “Okay, then.” He turned and started up the hall, hoping against hope that the bedroom door would be obvious.

  “Where are you heading?” she asked, one eyebrow arching up suspiciously.

  “Just looking for a soft place to drop you.” He pushed his shoulder against a likely looking door. “Am I getting warm?”

  “I don’t know about you, but I sure am.” Her grin flashed in the dim light of the hall. “You’re on the right track.”

  He stepped inside and saw the bed straight ahead. A sizeable bed. Darcy might not have gotten much sleep as a rule, but what she did get was probably comfortable. He took three steps toward the bed, and then pulled his arms away, letting her bounce on the mattress.

  “Hey!” She glowered at him.

  He dropped onto the bed beside her, grinning.

  “What the hell…” she began.

  He cupped the back of her head in his hand, bringing his lips down on hers.

  Electricity flowed through his system, igniting flames along his spine. Her mouth opened beneath his and he plunged deep, letting his fingers slide through the spikes of her hair, something he’d been wanting to do all afternoon. Of course, he’d been wanting to do all of this for a lot longer than that.

  Her fingers pulled against the snaps on his shirt, yanking them open and then rubbing against his skin. Her palms slid across his chest, warmth turning to scalding heat as she did.

  He raised his head, trying to catch his breath and failing. “Maybe we should get you out of those clothes.”

  She grinned up at him. “Want to see my tattoos?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  She reached for the bottom of her T-shirt, pulling it up slowly, slowly toward her shoulders, revealing a pink satin bra and a red tattoo along the side of her breast.

  He leaned closer. “What?”

  “Chili.” She grinned. “One of a set.”

  “Where’s the other one?”

  “That’s for you to find out.” One eyebrow arched up.

  “That calls for closer examination.” He reached for the clasp at the front of her bra, popping it open so that the pink satin slid to the sides, revealing the cream and rose of her breasts.

  He caught his breath. “Those are some gorgeous chilies, lady.” He ran his fingers along the inner cleavage, then circled an areola with his thumb before leaning forward to take it in his mouth.

  He sucked hard, pressing the nipple against the roof of his mouth
with his tongue, hearing her quick gasp and sigh. He caught the other nipple in his fingers, rolling and pulling as he sucked.

  Sweet gods of mesquite, he hadn’t been this hard in months.

  Below him, Darcy moaned, rubbing her body against the hard outline of his erection. He moved back slightly. “Trust me, sweetheart, not a good idea right now.”

  She sighed, reaching for the button on his jeans. “Okay, time to get those off.”

  He slid to his feet at the side of the bed, dropping his shirt on the floor, then reaching for his zipper. He glanced back to see her watching him intently, which immediately sent his temperature spiking up another couple of degrees.

  He forced the zipper down, then shucked his jeans and his underwear, stepping back toward her as his erection sprung free.

  Her breasts rose and fell with her breath a little more quickly as she watched him. At least he thought it was more quickly. Might be wishful thinking, though.

  He raised his eyebrows. “So why do you still have those shorts on?”

  She pushed up on her forearms. “I thought that was your department, sport.”

  Clearly, this was going to be one challenge after another. He leaned over her, hooking his thumbs under the edge of her shorts, pulling them down her thighs. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to be swift or slow, efficient or provocative, but Darcy took care of it for him by bending her knees and kicking the last of her clothes across the room.

  She stared up at him, blue eyes full of challenge. “Okay, sport. What happens now?”

  Darcy wished to the depths of her soul that she could shut up. Just once she wished she could have serious sex with somebody without wisecracks or challenges. Only she didn’t know how to do it. Or rather, she didn’t know how to make herself stop doing it.

  She knew why she did it, of course. She was nervous. Hell, she was terrified.

  The King was gorgeous. She knew that already, but seeing him without his clothes confirmed it to the nth degree. His body was all sinuous lines, ridges of dark muscle. Plates that extended over his chest, diagonal lines from his side to his groin, solid blocks down the front of his thighs.

  His cock stood erect against his belly, thick and veined in the nest of dark hair.