by Candis Terry
He laughed. “Everything about you is special, little sister.”
The nickname Jake had given her when Jackson first brought her home had stuck. Even though she was a couple of years older than he.
“Aw, gee. Thanks.” She gave him a goofy, playful punch in the arm. “And what about you? Still chasing down bad guys in the sand?”
“Yep. Although lately I’ve been thinking.”
“Uh-oh. That’s dangerous.”
A smile touched his lips. “And what usually gets me in the most trouble. You want to dance?”
Fiona glanced over at the bar area, where Jackson held court with his firemen buddies, including Mike, who might have been listening to Jackson’s current line of BS, but he was watching her.
“Sure. If you promise not to step on my toes with those clodhoppers.”
“I believe the proper term is shitkickers.” Jake set his beer down on a nearby table and spun her out onto the dance floor to the tune of “Little White Church.” The quick two-step left little air for conversation, but Jake was a talker, and Fiona was curious.
“So what have you been thinking about?” she asked him.
“Leaving the Marines.”
“I thought you were a Lifer.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Their feet moved quick, quick, slow, slow.
All the Wilder boys knew how to dance well. It was just part of their charm that had always sucked the ladies into their arms.
“But every time I come home,” he continued, “I realize what I’m missing. Izzy’s growing up so fast. And before we know it, one of these newlyweds is going to have a baby. I can’t be a good uncle from thousands of miles away.”
The melancholy in his tone touched her heart. “Sounds like you’re ready to settle down.”
“By that you mean get married?” His blue eyes laughed. “Darlin’, you know me better than that.”
“Well, all of the brothers have been surprising me lately. So why not you too?”
“Because I’m a better brother and soldier than I’d ever be a husband or a dad.”
“Bullshit. You were raised by the best role models on earth.” She gripped his hand as they crossed arms, slid apart, then changed positions. “And I swear, if Jesse can find someone to wrangle his wild ways, there’s no reason you can’t too.”
Both of them slid their gazes to the aforementioned brother and his new wife slow dancing to the upbeat song. They were so caught up in each other they barely noticed anyone else was even on the floor.
“Yeah.” Jake laughed. “Talk about a shocker.”
“And I did happen to notice the looks you were giving Annie during the vows.”
“Awww, now I know you’ve been tipping the champagne bottle too much.”
“Haven’t tipped it at all. So I was imagining things?”
“Darlin’, that girl has driven me nuts since way back in high school.”
“Nuts in a good way?”
“Hell no. If I say red, she says black. If I walk fast, she’s slow as a snail.” His blue eyes zeroed in on pretty blond Annie in her lovely peach-colored dress holding adorable baby Max. “She’s the total damn opposite of me.”
“Uh-huh.” Fiona bit back a smile. “I can see she really revs you up.”
“No shit.”
Fiona smiled and wondered if he knew how deep he was in. And then she thought how much fun it was going to be to watch Jake and Annie figure things out.
As the song ended, Fiona patted the shoulder of his crisp white shirt. “Tell the Marines you’re one and done. Then get your butt back to Sweet. I can always put you to work making cupcakes.”
“I hope you meant eating cupcakes.” He kissed her forehead. “Gotta run before big Mike thumps my head.”
“What?” She turned to watch him go and saw Mike coming toward her with a whole lot of determination in those laser-focused eyes.
“I was just taking a moment to admire you,” he said when he reached her side.
She laughed. “Is that what they call it these days?”
At that moment, Annie stepped into their circle with a sleeping baby Max in her arms. “Hey, Fi. With the exception of the drinking and dancing, I think the festivities are winding down. Max is pooped, and so am I. So I wondered if it was okay to take Izzy home with me. She can spend the night, and you don’t have to worry about picking her up till tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?” Fiona smoothed her hand over Max’s blond baby fuzz. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“Are you kidding? I love having her around. She’s a great diaper fetcher. So you might as well enjoy yourself a little.” Annie looked up and smiled at Mike.
“I’d really appreciate that.”
“No problem. And there’s no hurry to pick her up. Just give me a call and let me know you’re on your way.”
“Thank you.” Fiona kissed Max’s little head and inhaled his sweet baby scent.
“I’ll send Izzy over to say good night.” With that, Annie turned and went to gather up her things.
A second later, Izzy, in her little flower-girl dress with a nice pink punch stain down the middle, bounded over for a hug and a kiss. Fiona gathered her in her arms, already missing her. Then Izzy surprised her by wanting a hug and kiss from Mike too. The smile Izzy’s request put on his face melted Fiona’s heart.
Just a smidge.
When Mike swung Izzy up into the air, she squealed with delight. And after he kissed her forehead, she slapped her little hands on both his cheeks and, giggling, kissed his forehead back.
Mike then carried Izzy and the majority of Annie’s baby things to the car. Fiona followed, shuttling the diaper bag and an extra blanket. Then she transferred Izzy’s car seat to Annie’s car. When they had everything settled and strapped in, Izzy held her little hand up to the window. As Mike stood there waving bye-bye to her daughter, what remained of Fiona’s steady heart liquefied into a gooey puddle of tenderness.
Strong.
Sexy.
Softhearted.
Fiona fell heart over head in love.
Chapter 18
The cloud of dust settled as Annie’s car disappeared down the road. Mike turned to find Fiona standing there with a dreamy look on her face. He didn’t know the reason behind it, but now that all the requirements of the wedding were behind everyone, he fully intended to enjoy her company and give her his full attention.
He held his arm out for her to take just in case those insanely sexy spike-heeled sandals made her wobble and he needed to rescue the damsel in the seductive dress.
“Looks like things have settled down a bit.” He placed his hand over hers, nestled in the crook of his arm.
“For now.”
The way she looked up at him and smiled sent a whole lot of hell yeah straight into his shorts.
“The band is taking an intermission,” she said. “But I guarantee once they break out the Jack Daniel’s, things will get a little crazy.”
As they moved into the barn, Mike snagged a flute of champagne off a nearby silver tray and handed it to her. “Then maybe we should toast to getting a little crazy.”
She looked at the glass, then back up at him. The suggestive smile that played on her lips notched up the indefinable something he felt for her in his heart to full-blown holy shit, can this really be happening? When she leaned into him and danced her finger down the buttons on his shirt, she had his complete attention.
“How about I just get drunk on you instead?”
His heart hit mach speed. He lowered his head and kissed her. “I like the way you think.”
Beneath the fairy lights in the barn, humor twinkled in her eyes. “Are you sure? You’ve been a very busy man tonight.”
“Not busy. Just giving you time to enjoy yourself with your family and—”
She pressed her finger to his lips. “Do not end that sentence with something ridiculous like getting over my ex-husband’s getting married.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
He shook his head. “I saw your face during the ceremony. I know you’re genuinely happy for Jackson and Abby.”
“I am. So what were you going to say?”
“Friends.”
“Oh.” Her eyes rolled. “I feel so dumb.”
He tightened his hold on her waist. “You feel pretty damn good to me.”
A slight quiver tingled against his fingertips and made him believe there was a whole lot of woman she was trying to subdue. With the way they’d heated up her kitchen the other night, he had no doubt they could burn each other up between the sheets.
While the reception continued around them with laughter and merriment that so far hadn’t gotten out of hand, the band again stepped up to their makeshift stage. Mike was pretty done with trying to carry on conversations with the coworkers he’d see on his next shift. All he wanted now was a little one-on-one time with his date.
When the band strummed into Keith Urban’s “Raining on Sunday,” he grabbed his opportunity. “I believe they’re playing our song. You want to dance?”
“Our song?” Her bare shoulders came up and with them brought a hint of her delicious scent.
“I’ll try not to be wounded that you’ve forgotten we danced to this song at Reno and Charli’s reception.” Yeah, and that hardly made him sound like a chick. Sheesh. Somebody ought to take away his fucking man card.
“Oh. No.” Her warm, sexy smile hit him full force with such a hot snap of awareness it completely erased his girlish faux pas. “I didn’t forget.”
“Then shall we?”
“Absolutely.”
He took her hand, led her outside, and called himself a lucky man when they found the dance floor empty.
The subtle glow from the hanging candle jars kept it dark and romantic. As he drew her into his arms, primal need whipped up inside him like a window-shattering storm. He wanted this woman in ways he hadn’t even imagined that first night he’d seen her from across the charity auction. At that moment, before he’d known who she was, hunger bit deep. All he’d been able to think of was getting his hands on her and making love to her all damn night long.
Now there was more.
Now he wanted to make love to her and hold her all night.
Now he wanted to wake every morning to her beautiful smile.
Now he wanted to be a part of her life. A part of Izzy’s life.
Now he was thinking he wanted her to hold their babies, not someone else’s.
Now he wanted to grow old beside her and hold her hand through eternity.
Now . . . Jesus. Now if he told her any of that, she’d probably run for the hills. Hell, they’d barely moved to first base. His thoughts were so unreasonable, he even scared himself.
When a man took a woman into his arms for a slow dance, she immediately knew what kind of lover he’d be.
Fiona had shared the dance floor many times with men she knew and also with strangers.
There were those who moved out of step with the music—either a beat ahead or a beat behind. This told a woman the man would be in too much of a hurry or he had a lackadaisical way about him that would bore her to tears.
When the first thing a man wanted was to bump, grind, and dirty dance, a woman knew he’d be the love ’em and leave ’em type.
If a man let the woman lead the dance, he’d be one of those who’d constantly say, “tell me what you want” because he’d have no freaking clue how or what to give to her.
If a man danced like Goofy and laughed the whole time he’d be . . . well, laughter in bed could be a good thing, but not when a woman was laughing at the man for his goofy tactics.
Smooth and sensuous, Mike was perfectly in step. He held her close. He smiled as he looked down into her face as though he was one hundred percent on board with whatever she wanted to do but left no doubt he was leading the way.
The heat of his hand on her back seeped through the lightweight chiffon dress. He smelled like a man. Clean. Warm. Delicious. Enticing.
As they swayed together, Fiona wondered if he could feel her heart pound against his muscled chest. Didn’t really matter. There wasn’t a thing she could do to stop it. In fact, with every slow, seductive step, his leg pressed between her thighs with a luscious friction that made her blood pound even harder.
“Mmm.” He dipped his head and whispered a gentle kiss to the side of her throat. “I love this song.”
“Mmm, I love you doing that.”
She soaked him in. Moved a little closer.
“So you don’t mind if I do this?” His hands slid to her hips and their bodies rubbed together in such a sensuous way she thought she might go up in flames. Good thing he was a pro at putting out fires.
“Only if you stop.” Her words came out in a choked whisper. To maintain her composure, she closed her eyes. Which did no good at all because she’d always had a really vivid imagination. And right now, she imagined him dropping to his knees, pushing up her dress to reveal her panties, and easing them down her legs.
His hand slowly slipped up her back, leaving a path of tingles along her spine.
“How about this?” he asked in a low, sexy murmur as he cupped the back of her neck with his big, warm hand and brushed his thumb along the sensitive skin. The slight roughness sent a rush of pleasure to the tips of her breasts.
“That’s . . . Mmmm.” She sighed. “That’s really good too.”
The band eased into another slow-tempo love song.
Mike smiled as he used his thumb to tip her head back and expose her neck. When he leaned in, the anticipation was almost too much to bear, and she couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped.
“And this?” His silky question whispered across her skin. Then he completely destroyed her with the slow, delectable glide of his tongue on her throat.
“Mike?”
“Yes, bela?” He kissed her cheeks, her forehead, everywhere but her mouth.
“I know you’ve been trying to be a good boy.”
“I have.”
“But right now?” Oh dear God. Now he was nibbling on her earlobe, and that was like hitting the winning shot at the buzzer.
“Yes?”
“Right now . . . I want you to be a bad man. Really, really bad.”
She opened her eyes as he raised his head. The provocative half-lidded expression she found on his handsome face was like a forbidden drug.
“Right now,” she said, “it’s time to introduce you to Naughty Fiona.”
Without thought. Without another word, she took him by the hand, led him off the dance floor and straight into the fire.
Mike would follow this woman anywhere. The barn far away from the reception was the last place he’d imagined.
Like she’d done it thousands of times, she pushed open a pedestrian door and pulled him inside.
The dark interior was lit only by the gleam of the moon shining through a single window. But it offered enough light to see that the barn was filled with shiny classic cars and badass trucks.
In the moment before Fiona wrapped her slender arms around his neck, he noticed the closest automobile appeared to be a vintage turquoise Thunderbird with white-walled tires and gleaming chrome bumpers.
Everything after that was all about Fiona.
She tipped her face up to his. “I want you to kiss me.”
“Bela, I could have done that outside.” He framed her face with his hands, then lowered his head. Gently, he touched his lips to hers.
“Not that kind of kiss,” she murmured when he raised his head. “This kind.”
Her fingers dove into his hair, pulled his head down, and she took complete possession of his mouth. Not that he wasn’t more than willing to give it, but she surprised him with her hunger. And not that he wasn’t willing to give her whatever she needed, he just needed to know she knew what she was doing. Not that he wasn’t willing to do whatever the hell she wanted to do.
He lifted his head, leaned away from the heat of her body to get a good look
at the expression on her face and the passion in her eyes.
“Fiona?”
“Hmmm?” At the moment, she seemed very intent on unbuttoning his shirt.
“Are you sure about this?”
“I’m very competent at undoing buttons.” She continued her task until she reached the bottom. Then she separated the fabric and tugged the shirttails from his pants. “I’ve been doing it for years.”
Her hands were soft and cool as she ran them up his bare chest, and a hot spear of need jolted right down into his cock.
“Yeah.” Seeking some control, he caught her hands in his. “But, bela, you’re undoing me.”
“Good.” She looked up at him, tilted her head in an unbelievably sexy way, and smiled. “Then I have you right where I want you.”
She backed up. Reached for the peach-colored sash around her waist and untied it. Then she drew the dress up over her head and tossed the flirty fabric over the bed of a green truck. When she stood before him in nothing but a lace-trimmed bra, cheek-revealing panties, and sexy black high-heeled sandals, Mike thought he’d died and gone to heaven. Her curves were luscious. The spill of her breasts pushed up by the bra—voluptuous.
He’d been mistaken earlier when he’d said she looked breathtaking.
She was nothing short of heart-stopping.
She said something he couldn’t hear over the pounding of his blood in his ears.
No hesitation, he reached for her.
Damn good thing he was a fireman because he was going up in flames.
There was no controlling the desire that burned from the tips of her breasts down into the damp, tingling core between her legs.
Naughty Fiona hadn’t only come out to play, she was on fire. And the only one who could douse the flames was Mike.
He pulled her against his muscled chest and rock-hard erection and up onto her toes. Her breasts smashed against his bare skin as his mouth swooped down and covered hers in a long, hot, mind-numbing kiss. The erotic slide of his tongue demanded without being forceful. Possessed without an ounce of greediness. He seduced her with a promise of what would come.
If Naughty Fiona had been in control before, she’d clearly been replaced by the grand master of seduction.
