Harlequin E Contemporary Romance Box Set Volume 2: Maid to CraveAll I HaveThe Last First DateLight My Fire

by Rebecca M. Avery

  He pulled her a little closer and smiled down at her. “Really? I think it’s better already.”

  A flash of red danced in his peripheral vision. He waited until they took two cautious sliding steps before he dared to take his eyes off the coated walkway. Sighting the source of the red flashes, he stopped short, causing Jessica to lose her footing.

  His trusty instincts kicked in. Planting his feet wide, he caught her against him and held on tight. She raised her head and turned her baffled scowl loose on him as she peered over the top of the paper bag crumpled between her chest and his.

  He squinted over her shoulder through the falling sleet and snow. “Uh, Jessica?”

  She turned her head to follow his line of vision. A horrified gasp marked the exact moment she spotted the bright red knit scarf tied to the knob on the front door.

  “I think your mom’s date went better than expected.”

  Chapter Five

  “She can’t be serious. A scarf?” She questioned the veracity of what they’d seen for the third time as Lang held the car door open for her.

  “I don’t know how serious she is, but I’m seriously freezing.” He gestured to the warm, cozy passenger seat she’d fled just minutes before and she cast another glare at the scarf flapping in the winter wind.

  “Who ties a scarf to a doorknob anymore?” Enclosed in the hushed cocoon of the car, she stared straight through the snow-speckled windshield and tried to pinpoint the exact moment her life went to hell in a handbasket.

  Lang reclaimed the driver’s seat and adjusted the air vents so the heat blew directly at her.

  Still, she shivered. “Could this night get any crappier?”

  “It’s been pretty interesting.”

  The gruff assessment teased a bitter laugh from the depths of her despair. “Interesting?”

  “Well, nothing truly tragic has happened. No one’s hurt or worse, so I consider that a win.”

  “That’s all it takes to be a win in your book?”

  His long fingers curled around the steering wheel then flexed. “I’ve seen a lot worse than stalled engines and ‘do not enter’ signs.”

  Of course he’d seen worse. He was a cop, after all. Swallowing a lump of remorse, she turned to stare at her mother’s house again. “Where do you think she expects me to go?”

  “I don’t know.” Leaning into the door, he unclipped his cell. “Do you want to try to call her?”

  “Oh!” She took the phone from him. “Thank you.”

  Calls to both the house phone and her mother’s cell went unanswered. She left agitated messages on both voice mails, then dialed her own number. Gnawing her bottom lip, she pressed the phone tight to her ear, but all she heard was the start of the Dear Jessica message Jeff had left the week before. She quickly ended the call and handed the phone back to Lang.

  “If you wouldn’t mind dropping me off at a decent motel…”

  She let the thought trail off as a flash of memory grabbed her by the throat and her stomach dropped. She plunged her hand into the pocket of her coat. Nothing. Even less than the nothing she had earlier.

  A deep guttural groan rolled up from the soles of her feet. She doubled over, but instead of clutching her twisted gut, she reached into the bag and fished out the margarita bottle. The cap bounced off the dash and fell to her feet. She took a pull so long and so deep, she could swear Lang’s whispered “Damn” took on multiple meanings.

  Lowering the bottle with a harsh gasp, she stared sightlessly at the label. “I’m pretty sure my wallet is at the precinct.”

  “What?”

  Sighing at the thought of repeating the admission, she bumped her forehead with the heel of her hand. “I left my wallet on Officer Perkins’s desk. She asked for ID.”

  “Okay.” The softly whispered word indicated that the implications of her predicament hadn’t quite sunk in yet. “Well, it’ll be safe there. I’ll call and ask her to lock it up.”

  Frustrated and furious with herself, Jessica wielded a sledgehammer to drive home her point. “Well, it may be safe, but I’m screwed. I’ve got no car, no money and no place to stay.”

  He scowled at her bleak assessment. “Well, the last part isn’t strictly true. You could just knock on the door.”

  She inhaled so hard it hurt the back of her throat. “I’m not going in there! That’s my mother in there.”

  Point taken, he held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. So that leaves us with going back to the station to get your wallet then finding you a room.”

  Catching the inside of her cheek between her teeth, she bit down hard but nothing would calm the caldron of aggravation bubbling in her belly. “I just had to make it through a few more hours.” She took a tremulous breath then let it all out. “A few more hours and it would be a new year and I could start all over again. I’ve already got a new job lined up, and it’s going to be awesome. No more pushing the paper for some lame Donald Trump wannabe. No, this time I’m in charge. I get to call the shots. I’d even planned on buying some new clothes…pencil skirts, really high heels…I was going to look fabulous.”

  “I think you look fabu—”

  She shook her head so violently her brain sloshed along with the liquor in the bottle. “Look at me.” She enunciated each word through clenched teeth. “Oh my God, I’m a complete train wreck.”

  “Hey—”

  The frustration and anger she’d been steeping for too long boiled over. “A new apartment in a new town and everything would be so much better than it ever was, you know?” The last word broke and she slammed her mouth shut. Swallowing hard, she looked away. “Just a few more hours and I would have made it.” He reached for her but she brushed his concern and his hand away with an impatient wave. “Don’t. Stay away from me, Lang. For all you know I’m carrying Liberace’s illegitimate baby and Michael Jackson and I are going to raise it together.”

  “That would go a long way toward explaining that coat,” he murmured.

  The jolt of humor made her head pop up. The shadow of a smile ghosting Lang’s lips set her heart to palpitating. The tips of his fingers felt so good against her skin. He didn’t even seem to mind the rat’s nest of tangles in her hair. The man was too damn good to be true.

  “It’s so not fair. Why couldn’t I meet you in a few weeks when I’ve got things sorted out again?”

  “Huh?”

  “You caught me at a time when all I have is baggage. I’m really much more together than this, I swear.”

  “You look pretty together to me.”

  It was a blatant lie, but Jessica appreciated it nonetheless. Still, he had no idea. The number of issues she was wrestling could only be measured in sheer tonnage. Lang had spent his entire evening trying to rescue her. He deserved some kind of explanation as to why he’d be better off writing her off as a lost cause.

  Wetting parched lips, she plunged into the deep end. “Turns out, my boyfriend was more into my best friend than me.” His lips parted in shock and she raised a hand to ward off his indignation. “Not too big a deal. He wasn’t much of a boyfriend to start with, and I’m pretty sure we were done anyway.” She scowled. “The problem was, he owned the company where I worked.”

  “What do you do?”

  “Development. Project management.” Blowing out a breath, she managed a wan smile. “I boss people around.”

  “I bet you’re good at it, too.”

  The quick rejoinder had her adding a little more oomph to the smile. “Good enough that two of his main competitors had been courting me for months.”

  “I hope you stuck it to him.”

  “Well, I will. Once I get things moving again.” She fought valiantly to keep the smile from fading too much. “Interested parties or not, it took some time to iron out offers and all that. I’d just bought an apartment and that sucked most of my savings dry, and then the no paycheck thing…”

  Lang grimaced. “I see.”

  “I tried to stick it out fo
r a little while but it’s too much of a stretch. My new job is out here and I can use the rent to cover my mortgage payment until I find a buyer.”

  “Sounds like a good plan.”

  “It is a good plan. And it will work. I just got knocked off track a little last week.”

  “What happened?”

  She stared out at the falling snow. “He called to tell me they’re getting married in Vegas. Tonight.”

  “Ouch.”

  “I wish I could say it didn’t bother me, but it does.” She blew out an exasperated breath. “More because I barely cared to start with… Well, I cared about her. Him, not so much. It’s just…now I’m the one starting over from scratch, and I didn’t do anything wrong.” He started to say something, but she didn’t want sympathy. Not from him. Waving her hand, she shook him off. “It’s okay. I can handle that. I will handle it. But now you come along and…” She threw her hands up in frustration, and virulent green margarita splashed onto her fingers. “I just wanted to get through these last few hours. I’m ready for a fresh start, you know?”

  She offered the bottle. “Ready for a hit yet?”

  He took the bottle from her grasp but it never touched his lips. Instead, he planted it on the floor between his legs and hooked an arm over the steering wheel as he turned to face her. “I’ve been on forty-seven first dates in the past eighteen months.”

  She blinked, taken aback by both the stat and his matter-of-fact delivery. “Forty-seven?”

  “Those were just the ones that didn’t make it to round two. I figure another fifteen to twenty in that pool. Manny keeps tabs on the actual count.”

  “Right,” she murmured.

  “So, you see, I’m kind of a circus freak. At least, that’s what they tell me.”

  “Circus freak? What? Do people pay a buck to watch you down a steak at Tony Roma’s?”

  He snickered and the tips of his ears glowed pink. “I wish. I’d be rich by now if they did.”

  She cocked her head and leaned back against the door, needing to create as much distance between her and that charming blush as possible. Her heart danced a little soft-shoe when a new and horrifying thought occurred to her. She wet her lips. “So, uh, what kind of circus freak are you? Please don’t tell me you prefer to swallow swords. I’m a pretty open-minded person, but I’m not sure I could handle the loss for our side.”

  “Our side?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “The female population in general.”

  Her implication slowly sank in, but instead of reacting with the expected relief or disgust, he simply laughed. The deep and sonorous rumble swirled around her like a storm gathering strength, sucking the oxygen from the compartment and squeezing her heart until the poor, battered organ ached.

  “I’m not gay, Jessica.” He ran a hand over his face, but his bemused smile remained firmly in place. “That many first dates would be a lot of trouble for covering up something as simple as being gay.”

  Embarrassed and a little miffed that he was finding so much amusement at her expense, she hugged herself, crushing the bag of tortilla chips to her bosom. “Some people might not think so, and others would tell you there’s nothing simple about being gay.”

  He nodded, conceding the point. “Okay. Let’s just say some might go to that extreme, but not me.”

  “Then what’s your freak?”

  His smile widened. “I’m not sure you can handle it.”

  “Try me.”

  “It might be too scary for you.”

  “If I can survive the events of the past few months, I can handle anything.”

  “Brace yourself,” he warned.

  She reached for the sissy handle above the door and stared him down. “Hit me with it.”

  A muffled roar from the sound system broke the silence. Lang’s eyes tracked to the radio mounted in the dash. He didn’t need to look at her to know hers followed. The digital clock read 12:00 a.m. on the dot. The volume was turned down to nearly nothing, but the opening notes of the song the DJ played next were unmistakable.

  Guy Lombardo’s version of “Auld Lang Syne” drifted from the speakers. He turned to her and she lost the will to breathe. Good thing, because when he leaned over the console she was pretty sure the ability was gone, too. The backs of his knuckles grazed her cheek and she leaned into the caress. His warm, gentle fingers unfurled and slid into her snarled hair.

  “Happy New Year, Jessica.”

  She knew what was about to happen just as surely as she knew her own name, but that didn’t make it a good idea. “Lang.”

  “Forget the old acquaintance. I want to know you.”

  His whispered words tickled her lips. The tip of her tongue darted out to wet them. Heavy with anticipation, her eyes slid shut but she forced them open again. Pressing a staying hand to his chest, she whispered. “Tell me. Tell me your secret before you kiss me again.”

  “Okay, you asked for it.”

  He was breathless too, and the realization of it made her giddy. His heart raced beneath her fingertips and hers clamored to catch up. Hooking her fingers between the buttons of his shirt, she drew him close enough to catch her own lime-scented breath bouncing off his mouth. He massaged her scalp, drawing her closer and muddling her senses with each lazy circle of potent one-hundred-proof seduction.

  “I’m asking for it,” she acceded. He groaned, then tried to brush her lips with his. She pulled back just enough to evade him. “Spill.”

  Another groan rattled in his throat. “See, here’s the thing…”

  His halting prelude only stoked her determination to get an answer. Running her thumb over his lower lip, she looked him straight in the eye. Patience personified.

  “I want to get married.”

  She responded to his blunt admission with a sharp intake of breath. A wry smile twitched his lips. He might have stunned her momentarily but she recovered fast enough. “Married?”

  “Not tonight, but in general. I want a family, a house, a yard to mow.” He traced the graceful line of her jaw with his knuckle. “That’s why I let my grandmother and her canasta buddies set me up on blind dates with light-fingered ladies. Why I’ve been on forty-seven first dates.” His gaze flickered to her lips, then back up to her eyes, where they held. “Most guys aren’t supposed to admit that, but I think tonight proves it once and for all. You never know when or how you’re going to meet The One, right?”

  Chapter Six

  Every article in every women’s magazine would tell her not to do what she wanted to do. Those chicks who wrote the dating rule book would probably tackle her to the ground if they thought they could stop her. Even her mother, with her gay divorcée décolleté and recently limbered-up morals, would disapprove. Jessica was beyond caring about playing coy or clever. Crazy as the whole night had been, she wanted to be the woman he thought might be The One. Even if it was just for a few minutes.

  Taco chips scattered. The console jabbed her in the stomach when she lunged. His hands were in her hair before she caught her breath. His gorgeous mouth was on hers, those lush lips pressing against hers in a kiss more ardent than adroit, but so delicious she could live off the lingering taste of him.

  Lang hummed deep in his throat and pulled back a fraction of an inch. His thumbs traced her cheekbones as his ragged breaths teased her lips. He didn’t open his eyes. She understood completely. She was afraid to blink.

  “This doesn’t happen.” Her whispered words swirled around them like the fresh January snow. “You don’t just meet someone and…” The wind rocked the car but failed to whisk her doubts away.

  “And know,” he finished the thought for her. He opened his eyes, and for one panicked moment she wished he hadn’t. There was no way to resist the slow pull of those quicksilver eyes. “It can happen. I believe it can happen.”

  His thumbs went rogue when he slipped his fingers from her snarled hair. They glided over her skin, tracing her jaw and caressing her cheeks, effectively sweeping any
lingering doubts from her body and blanketing her mind in a haze of pure sensation. His palms cupped her face as if she were delicate porcelain, but the ache he unleashed coiled into a tight, hard knot.

  “Can you wait a few weeks?” The pad of one thumb pressed to the center of her bottom lip, but there was no silencing her babble. “Let me get myself together. I’m so much better than what you see right now.”

  He jerked. “What’s wrong with what I’m seeing now?”

  “Look at me.”

  “I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you.”

  “I’m a mess.”

  “I think you’re beautiful.”

  She tried to wriggle from his grasp but he held firm, so she tossed a few more arguments at him. “You’re blind. It’s New Year’s Eve. You’re feeling lonely.”

  He chuckled. “I see twenty-twenty, it’s New Year’s Day now, and I’m definitely not feeling lonely at the moment.” In a gesture so tender she forgot to break away, he tucked her hair behind her ear. “I knew there was something about you the minute I saw you.”

  “You’re desperate for a woman who doesn’t require a background check.”

  Wrapping one hand around the nape of her neck, he tipped her face up to his. “I’m desperate to make you shut up so I can kiss you again.”

  “Such a smooth talker.”

  His lips brushed hers in a kiss so feather-soft she wondered if she imagined it. “Now you know why I’m still single,” he said.

  “Nope, still trying to figure that out.”

  “Shh,” he crooned

  While those beautiful lips were pursed, she pounced. Lang regained control of the kiss with a chuckle that vibrated straight down to her hoo-ha. He drew lightly at her upper lip before marking the corners of her mouth with soft, sensual pecks. He tasted and teased, running the tip of his tongue along the seam of her lips but refusing to take what she offered when she answered the unspoken demand. She whimpered into his mouth but he swallowed it with a sly smile. He stroked her cheeks, her jaw, and the curve of her neck. His palm pressed against the column of her throat and slid slowly upward, coaxing a full-out moan from the depths of her chest when he angled his head to take the kiss deeper.