Footsteps on the stairwell brought him out of his thoughts. He looked up, and his mouth went dry. She’d let her long strawberry hair down all the way, and it swung gently at her waist, shining in the light. Where she’d worn a casual T-shirt to work in the flower bed, she now sported a dressier sort of top. Short-sleeved, nothing that exposed a lot of skin—typical Reagan and yet alluring all the same. Paired with the lightweight white shirt was a denim skirt that hung low on her hips. And those legs, those heavenly legs that could make a man drop to his knees and beg, were accented by a pair of heeled sandals.
“Ready?” she asked as she reached the bottom of the stairs.
He stood, clearing his throat. Unable to find his voice, however, he merely nodded.
“Want to walk? It’s nice out this evening, and the restaurant is just a few blocks away.”
“Sure.” Probably best—cooped up with her in a car, where her light flowery perfume enveloped him, would only drive him over the edge. What the hell was it about this woman he couldn’t resist?
Reagan beat him to the front door and pushed it open. Something clanged against the top of the frame, and she glanced up with a grimace. “Damn thing’s going to fall down one of these days.”
Joining her, he stepped out and gave the loose soffit board a quick once-over. Why hadn’t she at least asked Chance to secure it temporarily? It was almost as if she thought it might simply go away. Pretending it didn’t exist.
He pushed the nagging sensation aside, determined to enjoy the evening out, and made a mental note to brace the soffit up tomorrow. It would have to come off with the rest of the roof for anything more. Likely, she recognized that fact and put off doing anything with it until the whole situation could be addressed.
She ducked around him, her hair brushing against his elbow. He sucked in a sharp breath at the feathery caress, which only filled his head with her enticing scent. It reminded him of springtime flowers after a light rain. Innocence. Simple beauty.
Alex grimaced as he followed her down the steps. He’d never survive the evening if he didn’t steer his thoughts elsewhere. There had to be something safe to discuss. Work. She was a teacher. Teachers were decidedly not sexy.
“So how did school go this year?” he asked.
She flashed a soft smile. “Pretty good. I had a really decent set of kids. They’re at the perfect age, you know? No hormones interfering, and they’ve grown up enough to have real conversations.”
Safe. Keep it up. He fell into stride at her side as they walked down the sidewalk toward the center of the town. “You like teaching, I take it.”
“Oh, absolutely. But mostly I love the kids.” She laughed quietly.
“I bet they love you, too.” He blinked, unaware he’d uttered that sappy remark until it reached his ears. But it was true, he supposed. How could anyone not adore her? And he’d just bet that every eight-year-old boy harbored a crush.
Reagan gave a noncommittal shrug. Typical. She always downplayed herself.
“Seriously,” he continued, “Remember that picnic or something we all went to a year or so ago when I came down from Chicago during leave?”
A frown touched her brow, and she nodded. “October Days.”
“Yeah that. Those German sausages kicked ass. But the kids kept coming up to you, and you jumped in on a kickball game. All the kids wanted you on their team.” The memory flashed in his mind. Her laughter. Her happiness. The way she’d had hugs for every child even when her hands had been full of cotton candy and soda. She’d been in her element, and he’d been mesmerized.
Reagan walked on, her expression one he couldn’t interpret. Thoughtful, yet somehow tense. The light springtime breeze stirred her hair, and she grabbed it in one hand to keep it from blowing in her face. For an instant, he’d swear she’d gone someplace else.
But then her smile returned in full force, punching him in the gut when she turned it on him. “I have a soft spot for kids. Always have.”
“But you and Drew—” He caught himself, not intending to take the conversation that direction.
Too late.
“No, we weren’t trying for kids.” Her voice lowered to a soft murmur. “It wasn’t the right time.”
“Yeah, I guess I can see that. Kinda hard to do the family thing with the husband overseas. Better to wait, since he wasn’t a lifer.”
“I’d rather not talk about Drew,” she replied tightly.
Ouch. Yeah—exactly why he’d tried to stop that question. Talk about insensitive. She’d just buried her husband, for God’s sake. He opened his mouth to apologize, but before he could utter a word, she rapidly turned the line of questioning on him.
“What about you? How come you’ve never settled down?”
Yipes. How to answer that when the explanation tied in with his attraction to her? There had been women, of course, but none of them elicited the same rush he felt when Reagan was around. “Guess I haven’t met the right person.” Lame, but better than the awkward truth.
“Not even come close, maybe?”
It was his turn to shrug. “There was someone,” he allowed. “It wasn’t meant to be.” And that was as much of the truth as he was willing to reveal. He glanced around as they approached the retail heart of the small town. “So where is this place?”
She gestured at a brick building with decorative stone masonry around the windows and doors. “Right there.”
“The Cock ’n’ Bull Pub?” He wrinkled his nose. “What a name.”
“It just opened around Christmas. You’ll like it. Trust me.” In a sudden unexpected move, she grabbed his wrist and dragged him through the door.
The urge to wrap his fingers around hers was too strong to resist, and he indulged in the feel of her soft skin against his palm. She didn’t pull away. If anything, her grip tightened comfortably.
Too comfortably. Alex stole a glance at their joined hands as she spoke with the hostess. No interlaced fingers to imply intimacy, but the warmth of her fingers soaked into his soul. She felt good. This felt good. And if things were different, if there weren’t a giant pink elephant wedged between them, he’d go after her with everything he was.
Chapter Four
To Alex’s delight, the restaurant Reagan had chosen ended up being more of a bar. Music played at a tolerable level for easy conversation—some country, some pop, mainly anything with a danceable beat—and kept the dance floor busy. The atmosphere was lighthearted, exactly what he needed to rid his body of tension. And the beer selection surpassed what he’d expected out of the usual Colton bars, providing a wide variety of imports. Imports he’d sampled in alphabetical order by country.
At the moment, he was having trouble giving up the Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier to leave Germany and move on down the alphabet. He sipped and eyed Reagan across the table.
She laughed over the top of her strawberry margarita. “Problem over there?”
Other than the fact he could only imagine how that strawberry would taste on her lips, no. He shook his head. “Not sure I want to leave this little gem behind.” He turned his bottle, indicating it.
“There’s no way you can make it through the entire menu of a thousand brands tonight. Enjoy that one.”
No, he certainly couldn’t make it through the menu, but if he kept it up, he could pass out cold and be free of all the forbidden thoughts of her. Thoughts that had guttered and remained there from the time she took hold of his damn hand.
She glanced over her shoulder at the lively dance floor and looked back at him. Alarm bells began to buzz in his brain.
“Dance with me.”
The alarms began to blare. Danger, danger, contact imminent! He spluttered his last sip of beer and frowned. “I don’t dance.”
“I call bullshit.” She pushed her margarita aside and rose from the table. “You and Drew busted up the floor one weekend we went to Chicago.”
Damn. She would have to remember that.
His excuse eradicated,
he braced himself with a deep breath and accepted her offered hand. The burger he’d eaten hadn’t offset the effect of the beers, and lightheadedness struck; he caught himself mid-stumble and managed to pull his balance back together before Reagan noticed. For half a second, he berated himself for letting his control slip, but then dismissed it all entirely. He felt good. Tipsy, but everything in his life right this second was just the way he wanted it. He’d deal with reality later. Like tomorrow morning.
She folded into his arms as if she’d been made to fit, and he had to swallow down a groan. Trim hips fell flush against his. Soft breasts compressed against his chest. Dainty fingers interwove with his. Yeah. Like this. Dipping his head and moving his feet in time to the slower rhythm, he indulged in the sweet scent that wafted off her skin.
“Mm.” Reagan nestled closer. “Yeah, you know how to dance, liar.”
He chuckled and fitted his free hand tighter against the small of her back. “Made it a point to learn before prom.”
She tipped her chin up to look at him. Her sky blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “Hot date, huh?”
He arched an eyebrow. “It was prom. I didn’t care about the dance.”
She laughed lightly, a musical sound that feathered across his skin and left chills in its wake. “Big plans after, then?”
At the memory of his overly cocky teenage self, he chuckled. “Oh, yeah. They crashed and burned. She left the dance with her first-choice date.”
“Ouch.” Reagan winced.
He shrugged. “Eh, she went to college and got hooked on cocaine. I’m better off without her.” Running his chin over the top of her silky hair, he lowered his voice. Honesty slipped out before he could stop it. “If she’d stuck around, I wouldn’t be dancing with you.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist more securely and rested her cheek on his shoulder. “I guess I owe her a thank-you then. This is nice, Alex.”
Yeah, it was better than nice. His heartbeat kicked up a notch as her body moved against his. She was so close. He’d waited what felt a lifetime for a stolen moment like this. To touch her. To stroke his fingers through her long, luscious hair. To feel her lips moving beneath his.
That wasn’t going to happen. But the rest… He closed his eyes and gave in to the sweet indulgence, letting the music guide him. The atmosphere surrounding them shifted. Where light banter had entertained them all evening, something more serious, more solid laid fragile beginnings. She wasn’t just Drew’s widow and the woman who’d haunted him for too long to remember. She was Reagan. A vibrant young woman whom he admired and enjoyed. Whom he could talk to. Whom, if he didn’t let his head get in the way, he could see himself spending a lifetime with.
The music shifted, a faster, upbeat tune replacing the lazy ballad. Reagan grabbed him by the hand and pulled him deeper into the crush of dancers. When he balked and she beckoned with a come-hither finger, flashing him an exaggerated sultry look, he threw his head back and laughed. It hit him then: when had he let loose and had fun like this? He couldn’t remember. But damn, he was having a hell of a time. And sometimes, fully grieving meant completely letting go.
…
Reagan was still laughing when she and Alex left the pub just after eleven. It had been years, a decade at least, since she’d been able to go out, have fun, and not worry what sort of punishment she’d inadvertently earned. With Drew, the slightest glance from a stranger could have earned her his fists. Let alone what happened when he thought she gave his friends too much attention. Friends like Alex, whom she’d been careful to mind her behavior with even more. Though she hadn’t always been able to avoid Drew’s temper when it came to him anyway.
After his death, she’d tried going out. She kept Drew’s secrets hidden so the town could have its hero. But the residents couldn’t forget their Purple Heart awardee…or the widow who didn’t grieve appropriately. Few faces offered welcome smiles. The Cock ’n’ Bull Pub was one of a handful of exceptions, likely because the owner had lived here only four years and never knew Drew well. It became easier to stay in, to avoid the chilly shoulders. She’d have thrown in the towel and moved if it weren’t for the kids, the job she loved, and an administration that believed in giving teachers the freedom to teach.
She pushed off the memories and turned to study Alex’s profile as they walked down the street toward her house. Laugh lines around his mouth and eyes made him even more handsome in the moonlight. He carried himself with confidence, and the grip he maintained on her hand was comfortable. Not the possessive hold she’d become accustomed to.
She gave his hand a squeeze, bringing his mesmerizing gaze her way. “Thank you for tonight.”
He returned the gentle clasp of her fingers and grinned. “Turns out Colton is more exciting than I’d realized, even after countless visits here.”
“Kinda helps to move the action out of my backyard.” Drew loved to barbecue and entertain around the grill and rarely took his guests out.
Alex raised an eyebrow playfully. “I don’t know. The action in your backyard was pretty…eye-catching.” He slowly raked his gaze down her body, then lifted it to her eyes once more.
Her heart stuttered violently. He was flirting. She’d wondered a few times throughout the night but hadn’t been certain. Now, there was no doubt about it. But what did it mean? He’s been drinking. That’s what it means. Don’t read into it.
Uncertain how to respond, she laughed nervously. “You weren’t so bad yourself, you know.”
His gaze locked with hers for a pulse-stopping moment, and then he looked ahead. Silence fell around them, not awkward, but heavy all the same. Was he thinking about how there had always been something between them they’d never dared explore? Or was he remembering the friend he’d lost?
Worse, had she spoiled the moment by trying to return his not-so-subtle flirtation?
She supposed it really didn’t matter. They were still dancing around the attraction, and if she were smart, she wouldn’t let it go any further. Soon enough, he’d realize she wasn’t grieving as she should be, and like everyone else, he’d start asking questions. Questions she couldn’t answer without destroying all Alex thought he understood about Drew. Let alone the risk that came in trusting him with her secrets. If he turned his back on her like Drew’s family had, she’d be devastated.
They reached her front lawn, and Alex started up the walk to the porch. She followed, hating that the night had come to an end. It had been magical, and she’d never forget these few priceless moments she’d had in his company.
She reached to put her key in the door and drew in a deep, sorrowful breath. Why couldn’t it be easier?
With a halfhearted pull, she opened the door and entered the moonlit room, then turned to lock it behind him. Alex tugged her back around. The breeze floated through the open window, drawing a few strands of her hair across her cheek. He gently tucked them behind her ear. His gaze held hers, darkly intense and serious.
“God, you’re pretty,” he murmured.
A thrill shot all the way down to her toes, and her stomach fluttered. She knew better than to believe him, though—this was the alcohol talking. He’d never say something like this sober. Chuckling, she set a hand on his chest and gently pushed. “And you’re drunk.”
He captured her hand by the wrist and moved it to her side. A half step forward brought him a breath away from her body. His gaze dipped to her mouth, and he swallowed visibly before locking eyes with her once more. “No,” he whispered. “I’m sober enough to know what I’m doing isn’t right.”
Before Reagan could respond, his lips dusted across hers. Her breath caught with a soft gasp. Her heart beating erratically, she froze, afraid if she exhaled too hard, the magic would shatter. It was happening. The one thing she’d wanted for far too long stood right in front of her. Could she embrace what he offered?
Yes. She could, and she would. One night, one magical night, to remember for a lifetime.
His teeth cla
sped her lower lip softly. A gentle nudge begged for entrance, and Reagan parted her lips and closed her eyes. His tongue traced the seam of her mouth, then dipped ever so slightly inside. She met the sweet invasion, coaxing him deeper, opening to him completely as she lifted her arms and wound them around his neck.
He held her in place with a firm hand on her hip and maintained control over the slow, languorous kiss. But she could taste the thin edge of sharp desire with each stroke of his tongue. That barely restrained passion set her body on fire. Her hips shifted instinctually, brushing against the hard ridge of his cock.
A low, satisfied grunt rumbled in his throat. His grip tightened on her hip bone, and he eased off, his lips clinging to hers as if he didn’t want to break apart. She captured his upper lip with her teeth, tugging him back. But instead of falling back into the kiss, he drew away. His ragged breath echoed between them as he lifted his free hand and pushed his fingers through her hair.
Regret flashed in his eyes. “And I’m tipsy enough to do it anyway. Damn. I’m sorry, Reagan. I shouldn’t have—”
She tightened her hold around his neck at the same time she rose to her toes to brush her mouth over his. “It’s…okay.” She swallowed to gain a little control over her frenetic heartbeat. “Really okay. Do it again.” Leaning in, she caught him in another brief kiss. “And don’t stop, Alex. Don’t stop.”
Chapter Five
Something unlocked inside Alex at Reagan’s whispered command. The gentle demand of her mouth made it impossible to remember why he was fighting, and God help him, he didn’t care. He fastened his hands around her waist and navigated her backward to the sofa. Her hips rocked into his, arcing hot desire throughout his system. He tugged at her top to free it from the waistband of her skirt. He needed to touch. Needed to discover if her breasts were as full and soft as he’d imagined a hundred times or more.
Shatter Me Page 3
