by Susan Stoker
“Why not?”
“We just met.”
“I’ve known you your whole life.”
“We just met again. And I don’t…”
“What?” God, she wasn’t still a virgin, was she?
“I don’t do that. Not casually.”
He nodded. It was a rough pill to swallow but, “I can respect that.”
“Besides, Cade will be looking for me when the game breaks up.”
Oh right. Her brother. His friend. The trained killer.
“How about dinner tomorrow night?” Yeah, second best, but better than nothing. Besides it wasn’t a bad idea to take it slow and get to know each other before they dove into bed.
She arched a brow. “Dinner?”
“I know a place that has a great burger.”
She spurted a laugh. “Bubba’s?” It was the only place in town that made burgers.
“Two-star dining at its finest. I think they even have wine if you special order.”
“Yeah. Wine from a box.”
“Some of the best wines come in a box.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Google it.” He sent her a coaxing grin. “So, what do you say? Tomorrow night? Dinner at Bubba’s?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and grinned at him. “I would love that.”
“Awesome.” He helped her up and they made their way back to the bar. Before he opened the door for her, he smacked her on the ass and whispered, “Wear heels.”
And she didn’t even frown at him.
Chapter Six
‡
Claire was doing the morning’s paperwork in her office—or trying to amidst the distraction of her Charlie fantasy—when Lisa poked her head in and whispered in something of a shriek, “You’ve got to come. Now.”
Claire peered at her over the glasses perched on her nose. “What is it?”
“The boys are dancing.”
Ugh. She waved Lisa away. “I’ve seen it.” And it was always the same old thing, oily bodies, bumping and grinding, rip-away pants, padded bulges. How dismal that it was now old hat, like working in a candy story and getting tired of chocolate. So sad.
“Oh no you haven’t. Charlie is there, and Cody’s trying to talk him into dancing.”
Oh, hell. That got her attention. Her head snapped up so hard she bit her tongue. “No. Way.”
“Totally. Come on. Hurry.”
She slammed the account book closed and jetted after Lisa like a cartoon rabbit. She heard the music blaring long before she got to the dining hall they used for performances. She skidded to a halt behind Lisa and together they poked their heads around the doorjamb.
The regular guys were standing around chatting and practicing moves—they’d come in today to rehearse for a promo show Claire had booked in Austin for the weekend to drum up new business—but Cody and Charlie were nowhere to be seen. Her mood dimmed.
Damn. She’d wanted to see him.
Mostly, she’d wanted to see him dance.
How delicious would it be to have something on him for a change?
But then, Cody stepped on stage with an enormous grin on his face and grabbed the mic. “And now, ladies and gentlemen,” he bellowed, as though there was a full house. “Welcome our newest dancer, straight from the academy… The Cocky Cowboy Cop.”
Lisa snorted a laugh. “Cocky Cowboy Cop? Seriously?”
“I need my cell phone.” Claire pinned Lisa with a panicked stare. “Go get it.”
Because yeah, she wasn’t going anywhere. She wasn’t budging an inch.
“But I want to see.”
“You’re engaged.”
With a huff, Lisa scampered back to the office. She ran so fast, she was back before Charlie even came out on stage.
Of course, he wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about his grand entrance. Cody had to drag him on. The sight of Charlie in those skintight britches with a bare and oiled chest made her almost swallow her tongue. With the exception of his mortified expression—that of a man with devastating constipation—he was super-hot.
“Well guys?” Cody said, gesturing to his latest victim. He was known for blackmailing his friends into auditioning. Undoubtedly, Charlie had lost a bet.
The other dancers let out a whoop and a holler that echoed from the walls and Charlie buried his face in his hands. Claire took the opportunity to slip into the room, hiding in the shadows at the back—so she could watch without his knowledge.
Also, this was going on YouTube.
Cody motioned to Cade and the music started again from the beginning. “Go on,” he urged. “Make those ladies pant.”
Charlie started out slow and awkward, but Claire knew the moment he found his beat. He launched into a fascinating bump and grind that made her jaw drop. She almost forgot to keep her phone trained on the stage. As the song progressed, he threw in a couple new moves, a booty shake, slow slide to the crotch, your standard downward humping dog.
Shit. He was good.
And double-shit. Watching him dance made her hot.
Really hot. Sweat prickles hot.
She sent an ooga-chaka look at Lisa, who had followed her into the room. Lisa shrugged and mouthed the words, “Who knew?”
Right?
Even though she was jaded, even though she saw half-naked men dancing on a daily basis, none of them, not even Jimmy the Greek, made her feel like this. She wanted to rush the stage and tackle him. Ride him into the sunset.
It surprised her when the song ended, because she’d been so into it. And also because Lisa let out a “Yee-haw” at about a hundred and fifty decibels.
But the damage to her ear canal was not as devastating as the fact that the whoop captured the attention of every man in the room.
Including the one on the stage.
He looked up and pinned Claire with his gaze. She felt like a bug on an entomologist’s bug board thingy. Pinned to the spot.
And hell. Standing there with his arms hanging loosely, breathing heavy, chest heaving, dripping with sweat and glowering darkly… Oh yeah. She wanted some of that.
Maybe no one would notice if she dragged him away. By the hair.
If he’d had any.
“How long have you been watching?” he called across the room.
She checked the video length. “Um… Three minutes and twenty-nine seconds.”
His eyes narrowed on her phone. “You didn’t record this.”
She glanced at Lisa. “Was that a question or a statement?”
“Sounded like a statement to me.”
“Oh, good.” She sent Charlie a brilliant grin.
And then she bolted from the room, because he’d bounded from the stage, to a chorus of laughter and howls, and barreled toward her. Because of her razor-sharp instincts and fleet feet, she made it to her office before he caught her and even had the opportunity to hide her phone in the fake potted plant on the windowsill.
She whirled around as he barged through the door. It slammed against the wall at his entrance and he stood there, tall, looming and intimidating. Staring at her. Breathing.
Yum.
“Give me that phone,” he clipped. He tried to be all feral and badass and shit, but she could see laughter hovering in his eyes. It was a good look on him.
Her smile was snarky. “Don’t you knock?”
He turned to the door—slammed there against the wall—and gave it three deliberate raps. “Where’s your phone?”
She blinked and then, in an afterthought, batted her lashes. Hell, it worked for Porsche. “Phone? Why, good sir.” Yeah, her Southern drawl was pretty good. “I have no earthly idea to what y’all refer.”
“Claire.” A growl. Just that. It sent something hot and needy slithering through her veins. He felt it too. As their gazes clashed, it sizzled between them. Memories of that kiss, of his taste, his heat, scorched her.
“Close the door, Charlie,” she said in a whisper. His eyes narrowed. His nostrils flared
. He glanced out into the hall and then kicked the door shut with his foot.
He prowled across the room until he was so close she could smell the body oil on his skin. “You’re not showing anyone that video,” he said. His voice was gruff and commanding.
She cocked her head to the side. “And what if I do?”
He took her by the shoulders and yanked her against him. She nearly slid off. “Eww. You’re sticky.” She poked his pec. “Is that glitter?”
“Stop it. Do you have any idea how humiliating this is?”
She was hardly sympathetic. “Then why did you do it?”
“Cody made me.”
He sounded so much like a little boy with that pout, she threw back her head and laughed. “Right. You, buster”—another jab—“lost a bet.”
His ears went pink. “Come on, Claire. I have to think of my reputation as the sheriff. Who’s going to take me seriously if they’ve seen me shaking it on the internet? Promise me you won’t share it.”
She surveyed him for a long moment, so long he started to shift restlessly. “What’s in it for me?”
His eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”
She crossed her arms and tapped her lips. “Hmm. Let me see. What do I want?”
“Well?”
She set her palm on his chest—ignoring the fact that it was slick as snot—and scudded it up to his neck. “A kiss?”
He nearly collapsed. “A kiss? That’s it?”
She made tiny esses in the grease on his pec, scraping his nipple…purely by accident. “Should I…ask for something else?”
“You can ask for anything you want, right now.” He pulled her closer and rubbed his erection against her.
Her eyes widened. “Is that a prosthetic?”
“A what?”
“You know. A prosthetic penis.”
“What!?”
“The guys use them all the time. To give them—you know—bulk.”
He lowered his head. “I don’t need bulk.”
No. He didn’t. His cock thrummed against her belly. Her pulse kicked up an answering rhythm.
God, he was gorgeous.
And his kiss was glorious. Unlike the ones last night, this wasn’t gentle or exploratory. This was a full-fledged, full-bodied kiss meant to debauch. And it didn’t take long for passion to flare between them. And now, they were in private. Behind closed doors. Alone.
Something from her desk fell to the ground as he pushed her against it and deepened the kiss. She couldn’t have cared less what it was. She clutched at his shoulders and raked him with her nails because she loved the way he reacted to that.
He shoved her legs apart and insinuated himself between them, rubbing that hard, full cock against her aching clit through the jeans—and damn it all anyway. Why did she have to be wearing jeans? All she wanted was more, more, more. Flesh against flesh. Bare naked and sweaty.
A bed would be nice.
But she was hardly—
A knock on the door scattered her thoughts, but it took a moment for it to register in her consciousness. It wasn’t until he lifted his head that she realized it was an intrusion.
“Fuck.”
“Claire? Claire? Are you all right?”
Damn Lisa and her goddamn incessant caring about everything.
She straightened, adjusted her blouse, which had somehow become rumpled, and frowned at Charlie.
“What?” His expression made it clear he had no shirt to straighten.
She was damn well aware of that.
She handed him a binder. “Cover yourself.”
His brow lifted and he placed the binder over one nipple. “Like this?”
With a gusted sigh, she eased the binder down until it covered his burgeoning hard-on.
And just in time. The door opened and Lisa pushed in.
And Cody.
And Cade.
Claire peeped around them to see if the rest of the cast of Ben Hur had arrived as well.
“Are you all right?” Lisa asked with a glance at Charlie.
“I was,” Claire grumbled.
“I thought I heard a thud,” Cade said.
She glared at her brother. “It’s an office. Things thud.”
“No they don’t.”
She crossed her arms over her chest—surely not a defensive move. “What would you know about it? You’ve never spent a day of your life in an office.”
Cody sent Cade a cheeky glance. “That is true.”
Cade grumbled something beneath his breath and he pinned his sharp gaze on Charlie. “Can I see you a minute?” he said an overly cordial tone, one that was wrapped in barbed wire.
Charlie glanced at Claire. “Um… Sure?”
“In private?”
She narrowed her eyes on her brother. He had a tendency to be overprotective and chase guys off. It had come in handy with Dustin, but for some reason, she didn’t want him to screw things up with Charlie. Not yet. And certainly not now. “Cade—”
He held up an imperious hand. He pinned her with that mulish look he got when he would not be changing his mind. “This needs to happen, Claire.”
She looked at Charlie and when he nodded, she gusted a sigh. “Well, all right. But be gentle with him.” She leaned against the desk, but Cade kept staring at her. When he had her attention again, he cocked his head toward the door.
“Wait. You’re kicking me out of my office?”
“Go.”
Lisa hooked arms with her and tugged her toward the hall. “Come to the kitchen. We’ll make donuts.”
She loved donuts, but she hated leaving Charlie alone with her brothers. They could be such assholes sometimes. She glanced at him over her shoulder with an apologetic expression. He tried to smile, but she saw the resignation in his eyes.
That was all she saw before the door closed in her face with an echoing knell of doom.
Chapter Seven
‡
“So,” Cade said.
One word. One fucking word.
Charlie glanced at the brothers, one after the other. They both looked ominous.
“You need to be more specific, buddy.”
Cade moved a little closer than was precisely necessary for a conversation, but Charlie was familiar with tactics of intimidation. He excelled at them too.
Trouble was, he didn’t want to intimidate Cade. He wanted to reassure him. It was just a tad awkward, them being fully dressed, and him wearing rip-away pants and body glitter and all.
Cody was the one to answer. “What’s going on with you and Claire?”
Yeah. He figured as much. “Claire?”
“I saw the glitter on her blouse just now.”
“There was some on her cheek too,” Cade muttered.
“I wasn’t the one who insisted on glitter.”
“Were you kissing her?”
Charlie crossed his arms. He wasn’t one to kiss and tell. “That’s none of your damn business.”
“Oh, I disagree. She’s my baby sister—”
“Our baby sister.”
“And I’ll be damned if I stand by and let her get hurt.”
Hurt? “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Cade narrowed his eyes. “What are your intentions?”
Holy fuck. “My what? Christ. We just met again yesterday.”
“Do you think I didn’t notice that the two of you disappeared last night? For a loooong while?”
“We went for a walk.”
“A walk?” God, it was like being tag-teamed by Vin Diesel and the Rock.
“Yeah. A walk.”
“Did you kiss her?”
He set his teeth. “You need to ask her that.”
The brothers stared at him for an eternity. “So, what are your intentions?”
He decided to answer, but only because Cody’s tone had softened. And because he needed their cooperation. “I’d like to get to know her better, so I asked her out tonight.”
“On a date?
”
“Of course on a date.” What did they think? He’d invited her to join him for a bank robbery?
“Where?”
“Bubba’s.”
“What time?”
“About six.”
“What time will you have her home?”
“By curfew at least, Dad.”
His sarcasm hit its mark and the brothers backed off. “She’s our sister. She’s been hurt before. We just don’t want to see that again.”
“Neither do I.” He stubbed his toe into the carpet. “Look, guys, she’s something special. There’s no denying it. I…like her. A lot.” He pinned them both with a sharp stare. “And I believe she likes me. So lay off.”
They exchanged a glance then, the two bristling brothers, and nodded. To his relief they relaxed. “Well, that’s all we want for her,” Cade said, holding out his hand. Against his better judgement, Charlie took it. And yeah, Cade’s grip was brutal. “But if you hurt her—”
“I’m not going to hurt her.”
“I’ll have your guts for garters.” Yeah. He probably would. “Do we have an understanding?”
Charlie affected a salute. “Yes, sir.”
They both glowered again. Shit. He shouldn’t have been snarky. It never ended well. He huffed a sigh. “Yes. Yes. I get it.”
“Well okay then,” Cade said, slapping Charlie on the back. Hard.
“That’s all we wanted to know.” Cody affected an innocent expression. “Oh, and by the way, Cade and I just happen to be eating at Bubba’s tonight as well. In case you were wondering.”
“Great.” Oh yeah. Awesome.
Nice to know there wasn’t any pressure.
No pressure at all.
There was no way Lisa was keeping her in the stupid kitchen while her brothers had Charlie locked in a box. Interrogating him. She hovered by the door. Unfortunately, it was a well-constructed door, so she couldn’t hear anything.
At least, no breaking bones.
No yelling either.
When the door opened, she jumped back and leaned against the wall and pretended to be checking her phone even though her phone was still in her office. Hopefully no one noticed.
Her gaze snapped to Charlie and she quickly checked him for any gaping wounds.
To her relief he looked fine.
