by Candis Terry
Tonight, perched around a badly scarred table bursting with umbrella drinks, the party girls had to shout their conversation over the normal roar of bar noise as well as the cover band that had driven all the way down from Great Falls.
“You promise no strippers, right?” Emma asked.
Kate gave a slightly tipsy smile and a slow blink. “Where would I find strippers in Podunkville?”
“Good, because I can probably get the best show at home.”
“Eeeew! God. Now I have to block that image from my mind.”
Kelly laughed as Kate and Emma then engaged in a competition of Who would you rather sleep with? Some of the choices were ridiculous—Gilligan or the Skipper. Fred Flintstone or Barney Rubble. Some sounded delicious—Brad Pitt or George Clooney. Ryan Reynolds or Ryan Gosling. The game was interrupted when Kelly felt the cell phone vibrate in the purse at her feet. She pulled it out and swept her finger across the screen to find yet another text from Daniel.
What’s with the silent treatment? Jury selection starts next week. You in or not?
Selfishly not wanting to re-engage in her regular life, she’d purposely ignored him. She’d come home to heal the wounds of losing that case, but the wounds were still raw. And she wasn’t ready to go back. Still, it was ridiculous for her to think silence on her part would solve anything. So before she lost her party groove, she texted back.
Brother’s wedding in 3 days. Housesitting for him. Extending my LOA another two weeks.
She hit send and pushed down the guilt as she shoved the phone back into her purse. Then she took a huge gulp of her drink, flinched at the brain freeze, and re-engaged in the festivities.
As the band on stage kicked into high gear with a gritty version of “Roadhouse Blues,” Kate shouted, “Oh my god, I love this song.” She grabbed the hands of those sitting closest to her and dragged them out onto the dance floor. Kelly, having enough buzz in her blood, joined in. Of course, it had taken two sloe screws to loosen up her freak flag enough for her to let it fly. She was now on her third.
“Dance with me, Emma.” Maggie, an apple-cheeked, roly-poly, good-time girl and one of Kate’s best friends, grabbed hold of the guest of honor and began a bump and grind. Emma was so busy giggling she almost fell on her butt while Kate did a suggestive solo. And then there was Edna Price, an ancient woman who smelled like mothballs and Listerine and didn’t care that her elastic hose were sagging. She was getting her arthritic groove on.
Kelly sipped her orangey drink from a little red straw and was doing her own version of getting her sexy back when a man in a camo ball cap suddenly appeared.
“Want to dance?” He flashed a smile that dangled somewhere between “Yeah, I know you think I’m cute” and “Please don’t say no.”
She returned his smile because aside from the camo hat he was kind of cute.
He extended his hand. “I’m Jason.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Kelly.”
Jason’s pleasantries went bye-bye as his gaze took a leisurely ride down the front of her strapless cotton dress all the way to the toes of her blue-and-tan cowboy boots. His eyes came back up to meet hers.
“So, you want to dance?”
“I . . . um . . .”
A strong pair of hands from behind slid around her waist. She spun—ready to knock the offender on his aggressive ass—and came nose-to-deputy-badge with none other than the man who’d been saturating her dreams with all kinds of toe-tingling details. Jason and his wandering eyes disappeared from thought. And the dance floor.
“Hi.” James gave her a slow, sensuous smile, and her slightly under-the-influence libido flew into overdrive. The pulsating lights above the dance floor glinted against his short, sandy hair and sparkled across the shiny surface of the star pinned above his shirt pocket.
“Hi.” A warm flush spread across her chest. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged those broad uniformed shoulders while his hands stayed on her waist. “Matt and I are both on duty, so we thought we’d come by to see if anyone needed a designated driver.”
Kelly laughed and held up her sloe screw. “Pretty sure we’re all going to need one.”
“Affirmative.” He glanced over the top of her head. “Edna’s elastic hose are wilting.”
Kelly leaned in. “Edna has been slamming back Harvey Wallbangers like an old pro.”
A dark brow lifted over those amazing chocolate eyes. “You don’t say.”
“I think Edna’s partied a time or two in her day.”
“How about you?” His long fingers began to caress the small of her back. “Do you party often?”
“Me?” She laughed. “Obviously not. Have you heard what my brother and sister call me? Sister Serious. I mean, come on. Yes, I do have a serious job but . . .” And why was her hand wandering up to touch his badge? “I can be fun.”
“I remember that about you.”
“Yes. Well, I was drunk at the time.”
“You’re drinking now.”
“Not drunk though.”
“You sure? Your eyes aren’t quite focused.”
“Probably just my mascara.”
“Right. Need a ride home?”
“Dance with me first.” Yep. That was the alcohol talking.
“I’m on duty.”
She glanced across the busy dance floor, where everyone was boogie-deep in the bluesy tune. She slid her hand up to his shoulder. “I don’t think anyone will care.”
While the band rolled into Luke Bryan’s “I Don’t Want This Night to End,” James’s dark eyes searched her face as though he was battling with inner demons. Then he plucked her drink from her hand, set it on a nearby table, and dragged her against him. His bulky utility belt made things a little awkward, and she didn’t need to ask if that was a gun in his pocket because it was. Or at least it was in the holster strapped to his side. Heaven help her, but there was something just a little exciting about being held by a man wearing a weapon. A man who knew how to use that weapon to serve and protect.
With his thigh pressed between hers, they swayed together to the melodic tune. For Kelly, their height difference made for some really interesting friction. Or maybe she’d just been turned on by the man holding her from the moment he put his hands on her waist.
The warm male scent of him filled her head as he held her close. The heat from his hard, strong body radiated through his deputy uniform and her cotton dress to warm her skin. Before she did something over-the-top crazy like drag his mouth down to hers for a kiss, she struck up a safe conversation. “How’s your brother?”
He leaned his head back. “Better. Thanks for asking.”
“How did your mother handle his . . . accident?”
“It’s been stressful for her.”
“I can imagine. I—”
“You wanted to dance.” He tightened their embrace until her breasts were pressed against the buttons on his shirt. “How about we just do that?”
Even in her state of tipsiness, she recognized his avoidance of the matter. She did care about it, but if he didn’t want to talk, she wouldn’t push.
“Sorry if I interrupted something with Jason.” His hand tightened possessively at the small of her back.
She tilted her head and looked up at the smirk on his face. “No, you’re not.”
“Yeah. You’re probably right.” He tucked her against him a little tighter, and for a moment they just swayed together. “Are you heading back to Chicago after the wedding?”
“Not right away. I’m housesitting while they go on their honeymoon. They didn’t want to take Lucky to the kennel. He’s a pretty spoiled kitten.”
“I know.” His chuckle rumbled against her heart. “And your brother hates cats.”
“But he loves Emma.”
“That he does. It was pretty fun watching those two come together.”
“Or painful, depending whose point-of-view you watched from.” Kelly looked up to find a wistful look o
n his face. She couldn’t help wonder what put it there. James Harley seemed like a man who’d taken life by the horns and was in full control. That confidence was just one of the things that made him so attractive. She glanced around the dance floor and the single women who watched him. Waiting to pounce. Obviously she wasn’t the only one who found him irresistible.
The song ended on a long note, and he slipped from her arms. Her hands fell to her sides, and a chill rushed over her from head to toe.
Odd.
He never missed an opportunity to throw a few zingers in her direction. Tonight he seemed unusually reserved. Maybe he was just worried about Alex.
“Think I’ll check to see if anyone’s ready for a ride home yet,” he said, backing off the dance floor.
“Sure.” She watched him walk toward the bachelorette party table where the other attendees were laughing and twirling the umbrellas in their drinks. Matt stood close to Kate, no doubt wanting to get her home and take advantage while the happy buzz still tickled her system. Ah, newlyweds. Kelly wondered if she’d ever know that feeling. That someone was there for you no matter what. That they would have your back in any situation. And that you could put your hands all over them any danged time you wanted.
She shuffled off the dance floor. As she got to the table, both Edna and Emma stood.
“It’s getting pretty late,” Emma said. “James offered to take us home. You want a ride?”
“Maybe we can even catch a 9–1–1 call on the way,” ancient Edna pitched in, her weathered cheeks rosy from the Wallbangers she’d consumed.
“I’ll do what I can, Mrs. Price,” James said with a chuckle.
“Hell. Just throw on the lights and siren,” Edna added as she lifted her monstrous purse onto her stooped shoulder. “That’d be more action than I’ve seen in years.”
James turned to Kelly, his sensuous lips curling into a smile. “You interested?”
Oh yeah. “Sure.” She leaned down and lifted the Coach demi bag from where she’d left it near her chair. James’s eyes tracked her every move, and she realized she’d probably given him an eyeful of her cleavage when she’d bent over. Now there was the interest she was used to seeing. The sloe gin warmed in her blood, and she smiled. “Ready?”
James pulled his eyes back into his head. “Always.” He placed his hand behind Edna’s back. “Right this way, ladies.”
Kelly happily followed. Because the only thing better than watching James Harley enter a room was watching James Harley leave a room.
Kelly never knew being in a car full of intoxicated females and one very straight and sober male could be so much fun. While Edna and Emma tittered from the backseat, Kelly watched James maneuver all the bells and whistles of the patrol car. She had to admit he was quite impressive. Nothing like a man in uniform.
As an ever-dutiful representative of law enforcement, James assisted the wobbly-kneed Edna Price safely into her house while dodging an ankle-biting Pomeranian named Skipper. He got Emma safely home to her little bungalow and promptly called in the reinforcements. Namely Dean, who seemed only too happy to assist his fiancé in her moment of alcohol-induced giddiness.
Now, with the clear night sky above them, James rolled the patrol car to a stop in front of her father’s house. He put the SUV in park, stretched his arm along the back of the seat, and looked at her. The red, yellow, and blue lights from all the gizmos on the dashboard lit up the side of his face.
“Home safe.”
She smiled, trying to ignore the snaps and sizzles popping through her bloodstream. “Thank you. I really do appreciate the ride.”
“My pleasure.”
And if that phrase didn’t set off ideas in her head, nothing ever would.
“So what are your duties for Dean and Emma’s wedding?” he asked.
“I’m strictly an observer this time.” She gathered her purse up off the seat next to her. “No maid-of-honor duties.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth. “That’s too bad.”
Her gaze dropped to his mouth, too, and she wished he’d stop with all the looks and innuendo and just kiss her. She was paid to read people in the courtroom. To have her facts, read the signals, and push for the truth. There was no way she was misreading James.
So why didn’t he kiss her?
“Well, you know, I pretty much sucked at it last time, so . . .” She reached for the door handle.
“I’ll get that for you.” He moved fast. Literally was out of the car and opening her door before she could take a deep breath. He held out his hand.
As he helped her from the car, the heat and electricity that zapped between their palms ricocheted through her heart and down between her thighs. Breathless, she came up out of the car and into his arms. “Thank you.”
“I’m sure Kate thought you were a wonderful maid of honor.” His big hands slid up her bare arms, and the tingles made an encore. “If you were amiss in your duties, she can always blame me.”
“You?” Kelly tilted her head and looked up at him, the unusual crinkling at the corners of his eyes, the tightness in those tasty lips. “Why would she want to blame you?”
“If you remember,” he gave a hesitant smile and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, “I distracted your attention and ended up stealing you away altogether.”
He could steal her away right now.
All he had to do was ask.
Before she could breathe.
Before she could blink.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she leaned into him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him.
James’s initial reaction was surprise. And for a foolish moment he just stood there letting her kiss him. When everything came together in his mind, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against him. His pleasure groaned deep within him as her soft lips brushed his mouth, and he met her slick tongue with his own. Her fingers caressed the short hair at his nape. Pressed against him, she smelled sweet and powdery. Her nipples hardened against the cotton fabric of her simple sundress and pressed into his chest.
He got hard in half a blink.
All he could think of was sliding that dress off her body and paying careful attention to all her sexy curves before he buried himself deep inside of her.
This was what he’d wanted from the moment she’d come back to Deer Lick. To hold her in his arms. To kiss her. Make love to her until the sun came up and then make love to her until the sun went down again.
She tasted delicious, and passionate, and like everything he’d ever wanted.
When a little moan bubbled from her throat, common sense gave him a good hard slap.
She was everything he’d ever wanted.
But he didn’t want her like this.
Kelly opened her eyes when she realized something was wrong. She was no longer holding James, and he wasn’t holding her. In fact, he’d moved completely out of arm’s reach. It took her a moment to realize what had happened. When she lifted her gaze, the look on his face sent a clear message.
All the warm tingles in her body went on shutdown mode, and her brain went on red alert.
She’d just thrown herself at a man who had been sending her mixed signals. He hadn’t kissed her because he didn’t want to kiss her. Not because he just hadn’t gotten the job done yet. She’d made it all up in her head.
He didn’t want her.
Maybe he never had.
Maybe at Kate’s wedding she’d been the one pursuing him.
Maybe he was too nice of a guy to tell her to back off.
“Oh, my god.” She clapped her hand over her mouth and backed away. She turned and jogged up the pathway to the front door.
“Kelly!”
While she grappled with her purse trying to get the key out, he started up the path.
“Kelly, wait.”
She would not force him to explain. It was her error, not his. She’d misread all the nice things James had said and done. She’d misrea
d the facts on the Colson case. She’d misread the pain and sadness that had eaten away at her father’s happiness. The only thing she couldn’t misread was the bitter taste of humiliation and regret rising up in her throat.
“I am so sorry,” she told James as her fingers found the keys at the bottom of her bag. She shoved them into the lock and disappeared into the house. Too bad she couldn’t hide as easily from the shame.
She went into her room, tossed her bag on Kate’s old bed, and sat down on her own. She toed off her boots and flopped back on the mattress. The ceiling began to spin, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Tomorrow she’d have to open them and face the way the real world operated—not the one she’d fooled herself into believing.
Hot tears slipped from her eyes and slid down her temples.
Once upon a time she’d thought of herself as smart. Intuitive. Even edgy.
Everything had changed.
She didn’t know who she was anymore.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Three days later, on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon, Kelly placed an overnight bag and the carefully wrapped wedding gift for Dean and Emma—a denim quilt fashioned from her mother’s old overalls—on the front seat of her mother’s Buick. She couldn’t believe she’d finished. Then again, she’d had plenty of time. What else could she have done with all those empty hours?
The task had given her plenty of time to reflect. Somehow while keeping her fingers from beneath the needle of the sewing machine, she’d come up with a wonky plan to move forward with her life. What she hadn’t yet resolved in her mind, she’d have plenty of time to finalize while she house-sat for her brother while he was off on his honeymoon.
She’d always been a person of dogged precision in her methods. True, lately she’d gotten a little sloppy—and stupid—but she remained a believer that once you put your mind to it, you could accomplish anything.
Today she planned to put her mind to the task of keeping as far away from James Harley as possible.
