by Cari Quinn
He snorted hard enough to nearly upend his plate of food. “Hollie Bennett? She has plenty of feelings for me, distaste among them, but not sure respect counts as one of them.”
“Oh, come on. She used to follow you around all day long. Her hero worship for you was almost as strong as for Wade. And who did she take with her when she wanted to buy that car of hers?”
“Me,” he admitted reluctantly. “But that’s only because we’d just done a deal with the owner of the dealership.”
“Whatever.” Hollie waved that off. “My point is she trusts you. She’d listen to your counsel.”
“My counsel?” He set down his fork. “About what?”
“You know, about having fun in a safe way. But she’s kind of the type of girl who prefers to be shown. So you guys could have fun together, and Wade wouldn’t have to worry so much while he was on the road. He wouldn’t, if he knew you were looking out for her.”
“She’s almost twenty-five. She doesn’t need to be looked out after, Charli. Not only is she a grown woman, she’s the smartest woman I know.”
“Exactly.” Charli chewed and swallowed another bite. “So it wouldn’t be looking out for so much as being companions. You could use some time away from the office too. And she’d be able to go out and do some of the things she’s raring to do with a friend rather than going off on her own to new places with people who might not be as friendly and harmless as Quinn folks.”
His sister did have a point there. But then she lost one for saying he could use to get out of the office. He was doing just fine. So he liked to work. He was good at what he did, and his mama was taken care of when she had gaps in the bills she couldn’t quite cover. For all intents and purposes, he was happy.
Or close enough.
“It sounds like you want me to rein her in. I don’t have any intention of doing that.”
At least he hoped he didn’t. Sometimes overprotective instincts he never expected took over when it came to Hol. His higher thought processes went into hibernation, and he became possessive, and lustful, and demanding, and lustful…
Lust did seem to be a prevailing feeling, especially when she wore her librarian glasses.
“I didn’t say that. You can just hang out with her, give her an option when she’s wanting to get up to stuff and maybe none of her girlfriends are around. I wish she’d call me more, but guess I’m just an old married lady to her.” Charli shrugged and popped a hot pepper into her mouth, then chewed as if she was eating candy.
She’d always had the ability to eat even jalapenos without reacting. It was a frightening talent.
“She probably thinks you’re just trying to be friends because of Wade. And aren’t you?”
“Of course not. I always liked her. I wouldn’t be shady like that, Rafael.”
He shoveled in more food, barely resisting a smile. As soon as Rafael came out, he was in trouble.
“She might think I’m doing the same. Since we’re family now.”
“Try saying the word family without such disgust. Come on, you used to love Wade as much as I did.”
“I definitely didn’t love him the same way.”
She reached across his desk and gave him a shove. “I’m just saying. I’m not sure what Hol’s thinking, but I do know that you guys had a—”
“Vibe,” he filled in, still chewing. Damn good chimichangas, as always. “Yeah, I heard that the first time, and I believe it not at all.”
“Who else am I supposed to ask?” She frowned down at her plate and dropped her fork. She was obviously upset, since Charli usually packed away food like he did. Especially when it came to their mama’s cooking.
“I don’t know, maybe no one? You could just let Hol live her own life. Do her own thing.”
“What if she gets arrested next time? She might end up with the wrong bunch of people. She has a good heart, Rafe, and she’s so smart, but she’s a little on the innocent side.”
“So she’s trying to change that.”
And good for her. He was glad she was going after what she wanted, including broadening her sexual education. Though it had taken him the last four months of rarely seeing or speaking to Hollie to convince himself he was okay with her doing that with men who weren’t him, well, no one had to know.
Least of all his little sister.
“I’m all for it. Really, I am. I just thought maybe you could keep the lines of communication open. Put it out there you’re available if she’s looking for—”
“Looking for what, Char?” he asked sharply.
Her big dark eyes widened. “No, no, not like that. I get you’re strictly platonic. I just mean you guys could chill together a few times. You could remind her what a good man is like.”
“Right. Because she’s so impressed with my goodness.” He grabbed a napkin off the stack and wiped his mouth. He’d practically demolished his plate in five minutes flat. “Look, your heart’s in the right place, but this is never gonna—”
“Two weeks,” she implored him. “Not even two weeks, since the Valentine’s day dance is a week from next Saturday.”
“Wait, now you want me to take her to the dance? What is this, junior high?”
“No, no, of course not. I just mean that’d be enough time to have some fun with her and if you guys ended up at the dance, that’d be awesome. It’s tough to be alone on Valentine’s Day, especially when everyone around you is coupled up.”
Tell me about it. Not that he was paying much attention to the love bursting out of every corner of Quinn lately.
He had work to sustain him. And chimichangas.
“It doesn’t help to go out with someone who is all wrong for you.”
“Who said go out with? Friends, Rafael. Just as friends.”
He made a noise in his throat. He had a feeling his sister was angling for something, but he was too sleep deprived and now too full to figure out what.
If she was concerned about Wade being worried about Hollie, there’s no way in hell she’d want Rafe to end up with Wade’s sister. Buddies—especially ex-buddies like him and Wade—were never cool with their friends hooking up with their kid sisters. He’d nearly ripped off Wade’s balls for daring to touch Charli.
But he’d done it anyway, hadn’t he?
Now they were married, and Rafe couldn’t really begrudge them anything because they were happy. So maybe the end did justify the means, except when it came to him and Hollie.
She had no interest in repeats with him. She’d made that crystal clear. He’d had one chance with her last summer, and he’d bungled it because somewhere in the middle of their night together he’d realized he was breaking every one of his own rules. She was off-limits in every way. He’d always lived by laws of good behavior—some his mama had instilled, some he’d developed on his own—and that night somehow he’d gone from wanting to keep an eye at Hollie at a party to wanting to lose himself in her body.
He had lost himself, and through his selfishness, he’d lost any chance with her as well. And that was fine, since they’d never had a real chance anyway.
They couldn’t work. Apparently, not even for a night.
“Okay, fine. You’re right. You guys are too at odds to even hang out together, even though you’ve known each other forever and I know you care about her.”
“Says who?” he asked, well aware he sounded like a dick. But damn, that skirted way too close to the truth.
That he cared entirely too much.
“I know it,” Charli said softly. “The cool, reserved, business-only face you wear might convince the rest of the world, but I know the man you are beneath. You’re not reserved. You’re definitely not cold. But Mama drummed into you so many times that she had no intention of raising a hot-blooded man like Daddy, that you just shut down. And it’s ridiculous. You’re nothing like him, Rafe. Not even a little.”
All of a sudden, he couldn’t breathe. His tie felt like a damn noose around his throat. “He was a decent man.
He provided for his family.”
“That’s the only decent thing he did. He also got rough with Mama—”
“Thanks for lunch.” Rafe stood and tossed his Styrofoam container into the trash can. “Send my love and thanks to Mama too. I’ll be in to see her soon.”
Charli didn’t rise. She did tuck her container closed and tossed out her fork. “I wish you could see the guy I do when I look at you.”
“What I see is that you’re going to be late back to the feed store.”
“I’m going, I’m going.” She grabbed her purse and stood, clutching the takeout container in her other hand. “I’m sorry if I pushed you. I just didn’t know who else I could ask. Who I could trust.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. God, she’d worn him down. Maybe with the concern in her eyes, or her assertions it was just a friendly thing, or maybe with her reminders of their father. He wasn’t anything like him, and not due to chance. He worked hard to always be in control. To never lose it, in case that let loose a torrent of feelings he wasn’t sure how to handle.
Only one woman challenged that desire. The one he couldn’t seem to resist.
“We’re friends,” he muttered. “Just friends.”
“Of course,” Charli said, nodding vigorously. “Just for a couple weeks, and then if you aren’t enjoying yourselves, well, then, just go back to hating on each other from the shadows.”
His sister’s grin made him crack his knuckles. “We don’t hate each other. And don’t talk about that vibe thing again, okay?”
“Not saying a word. Thank you.” She leaned across the desk and kissed his cheek. “You won’t regret it. I know you’ll both have a blast.”
But as the door closed behind Charli, Rafe wasn’t sure if she’d just set up Hollie to be protected—or him.
2
“Dearly beloved.” Hollie hoisted her glass. “We are gathered here today. To get through this thing called life.”
“Wrong song, Hol,” Sadie called from the opposite end of the bar.
She looked down at her glass with the purple swirling alcohol in it—a Purple Rain, to be exact. It might have been her third one.
Maybe.
They went down a little too smooth. Tasted like Kool-Aid really. She’d seen the drink on her last perusal through Pinterest. She twisted the glass through the little puddle of condensation that had formed. She was drowning her sorrows, dammit. Who cared if she’d sung the wrong lyrics?
Her first foray into handcuffs and it had been a real cop.
How the hell had that happened?
The metal had bit into her wrists and hadn’t been nearly as fun as she’d fantasized about. Then again, that was the story of her life. Reality sucked, fantasy was way better. Her current trajectory of Project Sexcapades was taking a nosedive faster than a poorly designed paper airplane.
Talk about pathetic. Bull Junction should have been called Dud Junction. The entire night didn’t even warrant a real arrest. She’d been sober. Quite sober. As opposed to now, actually. She rested her chin on her stacked hands and looked at the inch of purple glory that was left in her sweaty glass.
It had been stupid to act like a drunken tart, but there had been way too many women in that little honky-tonk and all of the fun ones had been giggly Barbie rejects. Actually, more like Dolly rejects who believed with their whole hearts that they were Barbies.
How the hell did they get their hair so big? And she was pretty sure eighty-three percent of them had purposefully bought a shirt two sizes too small to show off their bodacious boobs.
Hollie looked down at her own pint-sized cups with I have big books emblazoned across the shirt from nipple to nipple. She barely needed a bra. And if said nipples weren’t so acutely sensitive, she’d probably skip lingerie up top anyway. Too bad a stiff breeze had the tips resembling pebbles.
Was this how low she was going to go? Bemoaning her tits in a bar that had exactly—she glanced around—thirteen people in it? Even Dud Junction had been more fun than this.
She slurped down the rest of her drink in misery. She lifted her glass. “Barista, another please.”
“I do believe you’ve had enough.”
“I believe she’s correct,” said a deep voice.
“Oh, come on.” Her voice was extra whiny, but she really didn’t care right then. Not when Mr. Cold Shower himself was breathing her air. “Wasn’t it bad enough that I was pseudo-arrested over the weekend? Can’t a girl have some fun in peace?”
“That’s why I’m here.”
She spun on her stool. “Oh, and what are you going to do? Lecture? Give me the furrowed brow of disappointment?” She pointed. “There it is.”
Said brow rose into a haughty arch.
She giggled. Haughty. Such a perfect word for him. Arrogantly superior and disdainful. Yep. Pretty much covered every little inch of him.
Well, except his lips. He had a handle on the kissing part. His lips were soft and smooth, so very different from the rest of him that was so rigid.
Her eyes strayed down his long, muscular body. What a waste. No one should look as fine as Rafe Martinez and be a dud in bed.
Maybe he was originally from Dud Junction himself.
Maybe she needed another Purple Rain.
She turned to Sadie and held up her glass. “I have a designated driver. May I have another?”
Sadie glanced at Rafe and got some sort of sign, evidently enough to make her hesitate before refilling her drink order.
Hollie growled. “I’m my own woman, you know. I don’t need this grandpa making decisions for me.”
“Grandpa?”
She pushed her bangs out of her eyes. “Yes, grandpa. Or even better, you’re Eeyore. All dour.” She leaned into his space and pushed her fingers into his cheeks. “Smile or something. Life isn’t that bad.”
Rafe stepped back. She kept tipping forward and he settled his hand on her hips to keep her on her stool. “Oh, really?” he asked. “Then why are you acting like this?”
Why the hell were the tingles back? Didn’t her body remember the complete miss the last time he’d gotten his hands on her? She sure did.
Hollie batted at his hands as she righted herself on the stool. He held them up in surrender, then leaned on the bar instead.
She huffed. “Because I’m bored. I have a very nice life. Perfect really, save for that whole no-fun thing. I can’t help it if I have to go a town over to try and find it. Besides. The people at that bar were lame.” Sadie came down with a beer for Rafe and a glorious glass of purple heaven for her. “Not your bar, Sadie.”
“Obviously.” She set the drink on a coaster and scooped up Hollie’s empty. She winked at Rafe and returned to the patrons at the other end of the bar.
Hollie squinted at her drink, then Rafe. “How come you don’t give me one of those smiles?”
“What smile?”
She rolled her eyes. “Never mind, it already disappeared. In fact, you probably didn’t even know you’d bent your lips up in the unfamiliar gesture. Seriously, do you even know the meaning of the word fun?”
“Fun—enjoyment, lighthearted pleasure.”
“Did you just give me the dictionary entry for fun?”
“Maybe.”
Hmm. Her nipples should definitely not be standing at attention. It was the librarian thing. Books were sexy and a man that held any form of knowledge immediately got a few points. Of course, this guy needed all the points he could get. Sinful knowledge held bonus points.
He was in the minus column there.
It seemed wrong somehow. The guy was sinful in all the best ways. Could wear a suit, looked good in jeans, his hair was fistable, his cheekbones were swoon-worthy, and his ass was bitable. All of those things should have added up to perfection, not…whatever their night had been.
Serviceable?
Her bra was serviceable. Sex should not be.
In fact, she wasn’t sure it even got to be called serviceable. Pure vanilla
with no sprinkles or caramel, not even a cherry. Heck, she’d had more fun banishing her cherry as a teen. And that had sucked.
How’d her glass get empty again?
She stabbed at the ice chips, slurping the last of the purple concoction with the teensy straw.
“There’s nothing left in there, Hol.”
She blew raspberries at him. “I know that.”
“How about I take you home?”
She shut one eye to get him to come in a little clearer. “Didn’t we try that once?”
“Could you keep it down?”
“Why?” she whispered.
He leaned into her. “You realize that’s really not a whisper?”
She sucked in a breath at the heavy scent of leather and…citrus. No. Something like citrus. She didn’t remember that from the last time he got close to her.
His cheek brushed her jaw and she resisted the urge to lick him. Barely.
Wow. Where had that come from? He was one of the few men in town who had kept clean shaven as long as she could remember. Right now there was a shadow of scruff accentuating his sharp cheekbones and deliciously cut jaw.
Her gaze skimmed down his throat. A collarbone shouldn’t look that attractive under a business shirt, should it?
She resolutely turned toward the bar and her drink. What the hell were in these things? Hormones on the half shell? Aphrodisiacs Anonymous needed to take note.
Maybe she did need to go home.
She’d have to look up the ingredients again and see if there was a correlation to this particular liquor and scents. Maybe that’s why her body was going haywire.
Because it couldn’t be Rafe.
Been there, done that, refused the T-shirt.
“I should have another.”
“Not if you want to wake up for work. It’s already nine.”
She rolled her eyes. “What are you afraid you’re going to miss, a TV show?”
“No. I don’t really watch TV.”
“This is not shocking. That would require you actually relaxing enough to sit still.”
