His two friends chimed in and asked for the same.
Katie would enjoy this. Bowie would either give them what they needed or what they asked for—two very different things. The next few minutes would tell Katie a lot about Bowie. Was he an honest man? Part of her wanted him to be a stand-up guy. The other part of her wanted him to be a big, fat liar because if he lied, then there might be a chance for more, despite his warnings.
Bowie moved around the shop like he’d worked there his entire life; then again, prior to his exodus, he probably did.
Fifteen minutes later, Katie was squeezed into the corner while the three men paid for their rods and reels and worms.
“Anything else you need?” Bowie asked as he rang up their supplies.
To Katie’s surprise, he hadn’t taken them to the cleaners. He’d even talked them out of expensive unnecessary equipment.
The blonde turned and pointed at Katie. “I’ll take one of those.” He moved forward and offered his hand to introduce himself.
“Don’t touch what’s not yours.” Bowie’s voice became dark and direct.
The brown-haired man next to the blonde grinned. “Are you his, doll?”
Katie placed her hands on the blonde man’s chest and pushed. “I’m not anyone’s.” Her voice held no fear, but inside her stomach twisted into knots.
“Not yet.” The cocky man leaned in. “We’ve got time.”
She marched past him and walked behind the counter to stand behind Bowie. Her mom always told her when danger came at her to hide behind a solid structure. She was pretty sure it was referenced to a natural disaster when she made that statement, but Bowie was built like a cement wall. He’d work well as a solid structure in this case.
“You can leave in one piece, or I can reduce you to chum and bait. Your choice.” Bowie pushed the bag of equipment into the blonde’s chest. His solid structure grew before her eyes. His stance got wider. His chest got broader. The surrounding air seemed charged with danger. “Leave.”
Her hands ran across the broad scope of his back, tracing the hills and valleys of a body built for war. Under her fingertips, the stone hard muscles softened.
As soon as the three men walked out of the shop, Bowie turned to face her. Desperation and need filled his eyes. He pushed her back against the wall and looked deep into hers.
“Now, Duchess, where were we?”
Chapter Nine
Lush. That was the only way to describe her body. Pressed up against her, she was soft in all the right places. Oh … and the way she smelled so sweet was comforting. Cinnamon and sugar. Like walking inside the house on a winter’s day and smelling freshly baked cookies. Somehow, what Katie baked soaked into her pores. Even her kisses tasted like treats.
The way she kissed him left no doubt she was as hungry for him as he was for her. A few nibbles at her lips weren’t enough. He wanted to consume her. Thinking about her was so much easier than thinking about everything he’d lost in this town.
“I’m going to kiss you until you’re drunk on me.” He covered her mouth with his and tasted her sweetness. The kiss began soft and gentle, but something needy and primal took over.
She gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.
His tongue ran along her lips, coaxing them open. He was certain if he could have a taste of her, he’d feel less empty. Being in Aspen Cove had hollowed him out. The only way to survive was to fill the void with Katie.
She shifted her body. For a second Bowie thought she’d break the kiss and move aside, but that wasn’t her intent. He’d pushed her against the All Stars board, and the thumbtacks pressed uncomfortably into her back. She’d adjusted herself for relief. In doing so, he’d moved enough that Brandy’s picture smiled back at him.
“Shit.” He broke the kiss and stepped back. “I’m sorry.” In his mind, he wasn’t sure if he apologized to Brandy or Katie.
Her eyes followed his to the wallet-sized picture. “Oh … is that her?”
He didn’t need to explain; she intuitively knew. “Yes, I’m sorry. It’s not right.”
Katie licked her lips. “Tasted right. Felt right.” She looked at him. “Someday, Bowie, you will learn to live again.” She raised her hand and touched the picture of Brandy. “I didn’t know her, but my heart tells me she’d want you to be happy.”
“It’s hard knowing she’ll never get the chance to be happy here again.” He took a few steps in reverse until his back hit the glass counter. “Have you ever been in love?”
Katie’s smile lit the room. Even the dark wood paneling appeared lighter. “No, but I plan to give it a try. It’s on my list.”
He laughed. Her list was unconventional. “You can’t plan love; it just happens. Sometimes it’s gradual, like it was with Brandy and me.”
He turned and walked around the glass case, putting a barrier between them. Lord knew, when he got close to Katie, all he wanted to do was touch her and kiss her, but he didn’t want Brandy looking on. It felt wrong, like he was being unfaithful.
She tugged to tighten her ponytail. “Sometimes you know the minute you meet someone that they’re the one … or so I’ve heard.” She took another look at the picture. “She was beautiful.”
“Inside and out.” He picked up the glass cleaner and sprayed the counter. At least cleaning kept his hands busy. “You should be careful around those guys while they’re in town. I didn’t like the way they were looking at you like you were some kind of morsel to eat.”
Her laugh was as sweet as her smile. “Oh, you mean you didn’t like that they looked at me in the same way you do.” She lifted the muffin box so it didn’t get hit with the cleaner.
“I’m different.” The words made sense in his head but sounded ridiculous when he spoke them.
Once he’d dried the counter, she put the muffin box back. “What makes you different?”
“They’ll take what they want and leave.”
“So will you.” She pulled out her phone and glanced at the screen. “I’ve got to go.”
Something about her expression made everything tighten inside his chest. He was a hypocrite and knew it. Each time he’d kissed her, he’d told her it meant nothing, but his need to be near her sure meant something. It was something he wasn’t ready to admit to himself.
“Where are you off to?”
She pulled out a journal from her bag. “Bucket list. Today, I’m rowing a boat.”
Something about that made Bowie laugh. Not the chuckle kind of laugh, but the kind that made his belly ache. “You’re going to row a boat? That’s like me saying I’m going to get a pedicure.”
She lifted her shoulders and stood tall. “Not the same at all. I’ll look good in a boat. You’d look silly in Sex on Fire nail polish.”
“Can’t argue with that.”
Once in high school, Brandy had painted one of his fingernails pink. It wasn’t a good look for him. He’d forgotten about it until someone pointed it out. He had to beat two kids down to reestablish his manhood and stop the teasing.
“Where are you getting a boat?”
“Seth O’Grady is saving me one.”
“O’Grady’s is overpriced. Besides, Seth is a perv.” That was his memory anyway. When they were kids, Seth hid under the bleachers to look up girls’ skirts. Although he hadn’t seen the guy in years that was how he’d always remember him. “I’m not sure you’d be safe around him.”
She closed her eyes and sighed. “Too late, I’ve already reserved the boat. If you’re worried about me, maybe you should come along.”
“Maybe I should.” He told himself he’d go to make sure she was all right, but he lied. He simply wanted to bask in the warmth of her presence.
“It’s a non-date, then.” She spun around and walked to the door. “You want to drive, or do you want me to drive?”
He followed the line of her body, from the top of her ponytail to her red boots. “I’ll give you a ride you won’t forget.” That sentence could be
interpreted in so many ways. Bowie didn’t care how she took it. He’d deliver regardless.
“I’ll be outside at noon … waiting.” She walked out the door.
He watched that heart-shaped ass of hers sway back and forth as she crossed the street and disappeared into the dry goods store.
What the hell am I going to do with her?
He looked at the photo of Brandy. For the first time in years, he heard her voice in his head.
Be happy, she said.
Bowie closed up the shop and raced home to change. He didn’t do board shorts and boat shoes like most of the tourists. Hell no, he wore cut-off camouflage BDUs and biker boots. Those who didn’t like it could piss off. He wasn’t posing for GQ magazine.
His stomach growled. He was hungry. Had Katie eaten? She’d brought him muffins, which he’d finished in short order. The least he could do was bring her lunch. Sadly, the options were limited to peanut butter and jelly or bologna sandwiches. He made one of each and snatched two bottles of water from the refrigerator before he left the house.
He tucked the provisions in his saddlebag and hopped on his bike. He’d promised her a ride she’d never forget. He’d start with the bike.
The throaty growl of the engine was a sexy sound and came second only to a woman screaming yes, yes, yes. He put on his helmet and took off toward town.
Katie grabbed a piece of shade near the bakery. Gone were her boots, and in their place were white tennis shoes. Not as sexy as the red boots, but with those long legs, she’d be gorgeous in anything.
She looked at her phone and glanced down the road. She was looking for him.
He pulled up in front of her and revved the engine before he pulled off his helmet. He thought she’d smiled wide before, but her normal smile was nothing compared to the grin that nearly split her pretty face. The woman hopped up and down like she’d won the lottery.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. This is yours?” She ran to where he sat and extended her hand to touch the black gas tank. His Harley was solid black, with hints of chrome. She skimmed her fingertips around him and his bike as she made a full circle. “You’re perfect.”
He killed the engine. “Only if you like damaged goods.” He took her bag and put it in the other saddlebag.
“That’s my type. Tormented and twisted.”
“Perfect.” He unhooked the spare helmet he had strapped to the back and placed it over her head. “Have you ever ridden?”
“No.”
“Another thing to check off your list.” He pushed the helmet down on her head, and she winced. Her hair was in the way of it fitting properly. “Sorry.” He removed it and pulled the tie from her ponytail. Long and blonde, her hair fell over her shoulders. The scent of her shampoo lifted in the air. “Strawberry?” He leaned in and breathed deeply.
“Yes, Abby makes it. She makes the best stuff for hair and body.” She took the helmet out of his hands and placed it back on her head. “Is this right?”
He pulled the strap tight, then climbed back on the bike. “Hop on, Duchess. Hold me tight. I don’t want you falling off.”
When she climbed on, she scooted in close, pressing her breasts against his back. He was cradled between her thighs, and it felt nice—more than nice.
He pulled onto the road and gunned it while she held on tight, her whole body glued to his. That was nice, too.
Twenty minutes later, he drove into the parking lot of O’Grady’s equipment rentals, which sat on the east side of the lake. In the summer, they rented everything from kayaks to fishing poles. In winter, it was snowshoes and snowmobiles.
Bowie parked and helped Katie off the bike.
“That was the best,” she said in a Christmas morning voice.
Her cheeks were pink from the wind. When he pulled the helmet from her head, it gave that just-got-laid look to her hair. Or at least that’s what he imagined she’d look like after they slept together—all pink and flushed and sexy.
An uncomfortable ache in his groin told him to keep his thoughts on simpler things like lunch and boating. “You ready to row?”
She took her purse from Bowie and looked down at the bike. “I want to do that again.”
Adorable was the only way to describe her exuberance. “You’ll have to unless you want to walk home.”
“Can we take the long way home?”
Bowie wasn't sure he was ready to drive the circle around the lake yet. “Let’s see how you feel after an afternoon of rowing.” He grabbed the sandwiches and water. “I brought lunch. You have a choice of peanut butter and jelly or bologna. What’s your poison?”
“Is that bologna with mayo or mustard?”
He gave her an incredulous look. The kind that said, duh. “Mustard is the only way to go.”
“Can we share both?”
He gave her an exaggerated eye roll. “You want everything.” It was easy being with Katie. She had a go-with-the-flow personality.
“I’ll take what I can get with you.”
Was that a message? Was she willing to settle for so little? “You should set your standards higher.”
She hugged his arm and walked him toward the entrance. “‘Low standards’ aren’t words that come to mind when I think of you.”
“What comes to mind?”
He pulled the door open, and she walked in front of him. God, he loved those shorts. They ended just at the curve of her ass. Nothing showed, but hell, his imagination ran away with what was under that frayed edge.
“Tempting.” She walked at a quicker pace to the register, where Seth stood smiling at her.
“Katie, right?” The man took too much time looking her over.
“And me,” Bowie said in a less than friendly voice. The tension strung wire tight through his body. He walked up behind Katie and rested his chin on the top of her head and relaxed.
Seth appeared to take in the situation. “Didn’t you just get back?”
Bowie narrowed his eyes at him and Katie. He hoped it looked like a sign of possession. Katie didn’t belong to him, but Seth didn’t know that. The one thing he’d make sure of was Katie would never belong to Seth. She was far too good for that scumbag.
“Not too long ago.” He placed his hands on Katie’s hips and tugged her back against his front. She leaned against him like it was a natural move.
“You work fast.” Seth handed the bill to Katie. “It’s fourteen an hour or thirty for the day.”
Bowie pulled out a ten and a twenty and set them on the counter. “We’ll take it for the day.”
Katie twisted her head to look up at him. He knew an argument was coming, so he kissed her into silence. “Ready?”
Seth pointed to the front door. “Grab the oars on your way out. The boat is in slip number three.”
Bowie turned Katie around and guided her out the door.
“Caveman much?” She walked next to him. “What was that all about?”
“I don’t like him. I don’t like the way he looked at you. Like he had a chance. He’s not good for you.”
“I didn’t realize when I invited you along, I’d get dating advice. What else does this package contain?” She lifted her hands in question. “My car can use a tune-up. The plumbing in the bakery still sucks. My bed creaks when I turn over. Care to fix those things, too?”
The lift of her lips told him she wasn’t angry; she was yanking his chain. He already knew there was no way Katie would pass up a chance to twist his balls.
“Bobby Williams is who you call for car service. Mark MacPherson is the all-around handyman. When it comes to your bed … I’ll be happy to assist.”
“I’ll keep that in mind if I ever get you past the doorjamb.”
She was right; he hadn’t set foot inside the bakery since he returned. He tried to mask his frown with motion. After he helped her into the rowboat, he untied it, pushed off the dock, and jumped into the boat himself, then he handed her the oars. “You wanted to row. Knock yourself out.”
/> How such a little thing like gliding across the lake could bring such joy to her, he didn’t understand. She was beautiful, intelligent, and kind. How did the simple joys of life pass her by?
Chapter Ten
Who would have thought rowing could be so hard? Katie gripped the handles and pulled the paddles through the water. She’d read about rowing last night, and it seemed simple enough. She had to scoop water and put it behind her. To turn, she simply put the brakes on one side by stalling one oar in the water.
Easy peasy.
“Give me those.” Bowie reached for the oars. “You’re going to wear yourself out.”
Katie gripped tighter. There was no way she’d relinquish her power. “Sit back and enjoy. I’m in charge of these.” She raised the handles to prove a point, only to have one of them slip from her hand and slide into the water. “Oh. My. God.” She laughed so hard, her stomach ached.
He pointed to the lone paddle in her hand. “Give me that for a minute.” The air between them stilled while she contemplated his request. “I’ll give it back with the other one once I have them both,” he said to reassure her.
She reluctantly handed it to him and watched as he maneuvered the boat close enough to grab the rogue oar floating away from them. True to his word, he handed them back to her.
“Here you go, Duchess. Row until your heart’s content.”
Katie was certain it was hard for Bowie to relinquish power. He seemed like the kind of man who controlled everything he could. She imagined the reason he hadn’t been back to Aspen Cove since his fiancée died was that he couldn’t control the situation then, and he couldn’t control how he felt about it now.
“Sit back and relax. I’m going to give you the ride of your life.” She teased him with his own words.
“Don’t tease.” He stretched out on the wooden bench. His legs were so long, they extended and tucked under her seat.
“I can’t believe rowing is on your bucket list. What happened to things like meet a movie star or drive a Maserati?”
One Hundred Heartbeats Page 7
