Surrender To Sultry

by Macy Beckett

  June nodded. “That’ll look nice. And just a touch of eye makeup.”

  “Keep it light,” Bobbi agreed, tipping her head and studying her subject. “And nothing on the lips except a little gloss. Heavy lipstick’s not kissable.”

  “As if that would stop him,” June said with a laugh.

  “True.” Bobbi grinned at Leah. “We could send you out in a potato sack and smear mud all over your face and it wouldn’t matter. He’s over the moon for you.”

  He won’t be for much longer.

  “Has been for years,” June added with a dreamy sigh. “I’m glad you decided to give him a second chance.”

  A second chance…

  The words settled at the bottom of Leah’s conscience and turned over and over, sparking a realization. Didn’t everyone deserve a clean slate after making a mistake? Even herself? She’d forgiven Colt, so why wouldn’t he do the same for her? Maybe she shouldn’t be so quick to make assumptions. By automatically expecting Colt to hate her, she was choosing to believe the worst about him, and that wasn’t fair.

  “I am too,” Leah said, resolving to think positively. “Want to help me figure out what to wear? I’d rather not go out in a potato sack.”

  ***

  At six o’clock on the button, two hours after her friends had left, the nearby rumble of a high-performance engine announced Colt’s arrival. Leah grabbed her purse and paused at the door for a quick prayer.

  Please give me strength to do what’s right. And if it’s not too much to ask, soften Colt’s heart. Let him forgive me.

  The words left her with a feeling of peace that vanished as soon as she stepped outside and caught a glimpse of her date. Lord help her, Colt was more stunning than she’d ever seen him, and that was saying a lot.

  He was impeccably dressed in a jet black tuxedo, the starched white shirt a perfect contrast against his dark skin. Creased trousers hugged his long, muscular legs and led to a pair of wingtips polished to a high gleam that reflected the setting sun. He’d smoothed back his hair into a low ponytail, ever-so-slightly tussled from the open air ride to her house. With a dazzling grin, he strode toward her and extended an extra motorcycle helmet.

  “Honey,” he drawled, “you look gorgeous.”

  Leah wiped both palms on her khaki pants before she took his helmet and gestured at her coordinated sweater set. “I think I should change.”

  “No, don’t.” He joined her on the top step and settled a hand on her lower back. Leaning down, he kissed her cheek in a teasing brush of lips that brought a flush to her skin. “I’ve got it all taken care of.”

  “You’ve got clothes for me?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  He didn’t elaborate, only offered a sly grin as he interlaced their fingers and led her down the steps to his Harley parked on the street. After helping her fasten the strap on her helmet, he donned his own and straddled the bike, then kick-started it to life. Leah slung her purse strap securely over one shoulder and climbed on behind Colt, settling close against his strong back and wrapping her arms around his waist. Instinctively, her feet found their resting spots, as if the memory of her rides with Colt had simply lain dormant for all these years. She rested her chin near his shoulder and closed her eyes to enjoy his warmth. With a twist of the throttle, they were off, cruising out of her small neighborhood and onto the county highway, where Colt opened it up and left her worries in the dust.

  Leah’s tummy fluttered with exhilaration. She’d missed this—the danger, the speed, trusting Colt not to let her fall. It felt natural, like taking flight after a decade inside a cage. The crisp wind chilled her bare hands, so she worked her arms beneath Colt’s jacket and pressed her palms against the hard planes of his stomach. She wanted to keep going forever, to drive across Texas, then turn around and head for California.

  “Where’re we going?” she shouted over the engine’s roar.

  “My place,” Colt hollered back.

  The ride didn’t last nearly long enough. He turned off the highway onto a country road, and after another mile, made a left onto a long private driveway that wound into the woods. The property suited him, rough and secluded, his house a simple ranch with cedar siding set against the backdrop of mature trees. Most of the foliage had fallen, but a few gold and orange leaves held firm in clusters of vibrancy against the pink sky. He’d made a beautiful home here.

  He parked the Harley in front of a detached garage, cut the engine, and lowered the kickstand. Once they’d removed their helmets, he hung them on the handlebars and escorted her to the front door.

  “Listen,” he said. “I need you to do two things before we go inside.”

  Leah smoothed her hair and tried to fend off the butterflies that had resumed turning summersaults inside her. “What’s that?”

  “First, keep your eyes closed until I tell you it’s safe to look.”

  “Okay.” That seemed simple enough. “What else?”

  “The second one’s not so easy.” His hand, cool from the ride over, cupped her face, and she leaned into it, drawing strength from his touch. His low voice shifted as his grin vanished. “I want you to live in the here and now. No problems, no worries. It’s just you and me tonight. No one else exists.” He caressed her cheek, his warm breath stirring the strands of hair on her forehead. “Can you do that? Give me all of you till midnight—no distractions?”

  Leah hesitated. She wanted to say yes, but that would mean delaying her confession, and she’d driven herself half mad preparing for it.

  “I don’t want anything or anyone between us,” he pressed. “Just for tonight. Then tomorrow we’ll go back to normal.”

  His voice was so thick with promise and pleading that she couldn’t say no. “All right. I promise.” After everything she and Colt had been through, they deserved one perfect night together. She was tired of fighting him—she wanted to spend the evening in his arms, to enjoy as much time with Colt as she could get. She needed this. She could just as easily tell him about Noah tomorrow.

  “I mean it,” Colt said. “I’d better not see that far-off look on your face.”

  She laughed softly and raised one hand. “I solemnly swear to stay in the moment.”

  “That’s my girl.” He kissed the tip of her nose and shifted beside her, then she heard the door open. “You can come in. Close your eyes, and mind that first step.”

  Blindly, she held tight to Colt and let him lead her into the house. The scents of baking bread and grilled chicken greeted her, along with a slow country tune she’d never heard before. She stretched one arm into the space in front of her to make sure she didn’t collide with the furniture.

  “You’re fine,” Colt assured her. “Keep walking.” They continued slowly for another twenty paces before he turned her through a doorway to the right. She heard the door click shut behind them. “Okay,” he said. “You can open your eyes now.”

  The first thing she noticed was a king-sized bed draped in a simple gray comforter. From there, she took in a pine dresser and matching chest of drawers until her gaze settled on a long sapphire ball gown suspended from a hanger on the highest drawer pull. She recognized it instantly.

  “Is that…” she began, doubting her own eyes.

  “Your prom dress?” he finished. “Yep. It took a beating at the secondhand store, so I had it dry-cleaned.”

  He’d rescued her dress from the Goodwill and had it cleaned? She turned and searched his face for answers, and the pieces suddenly clicked into place. His tuxedo, her gown. “We’re going to prom?” She felt silly saying it aloud.

  “Yes and no.” He pulled open his closet door and retrieved a shoebox, then handed it to her. “We’re having our own private dance right here.”

  She lifted the lid and discovered a pair of nude, strappy stilettos in her size.

&nbs
p; “Go ahead and change,” he said, “but don’t come out yet. I’ll be in the living room. Knock when you’re done, and I’ll come get you.” Without giving her a chance to ask if he was serious, he left and pulled the door shut behind him.

  Apparently, he was serious.

  She stared at the dress for a while, unsure of what to do. But then she remembered her promise to Colt—no distractions, no self-doubt—and she began unbuttoning her sweater. Once she’d undressed, she folded her clothes and placed them on top of the dresser, tucking her bra beneath the pile. She stepped into the gown and slid the spaghetti straps up the length of her arms, then zipped the back halfway, which was as high as she could reach on her own. After sitting on the bed to fasten her new sandals, she stood in front of Colt’s mirror and finger combed her hair. Maybe the dress didn’t look so ridiculous after all. She liked the way it flared out from the waist, and the shoes complimented it perfectly. Giving herself a small smile, she fluffed her skirts and straightened her bodice.

  On slightly wobbly heels, she clicked across the hardwood floor to the bedroom entrance and knocked three times to let Colt know she’d finished changing.

  When he appeared at the door, she noticed he’d smoothed his ponytail and pinned a single red rosebud to his lapel. A brilliant grin curved his lips while he studied her. He held up a corsage brimming with roses and baby’s breath and motioned for her hand. “You still need one of these.”

  “I need help with my zipper too,” she said, holding her wrist out to him.

  He slipped on the corsage, but instead of circling behind her to fasten her dress, he closed the distance between them, embracing her while lifting the zipper one slow inch at a time. Once he’d completed the task, he brushed her hair aside and whispered, “This is exactly how I imagined you’d look. You’re the prettiest girl in Texas.”

  The tickle of his breath in her ear made her shiver, and she unconsciously bared her neck to him. But instead of taking things farther, he placed her hand on his forearm like a true gentleman.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  She nodded, and he led her into the living room, where she stopped short at the threshold, her eyes widening in surprise. If discovering her prom dress in Colt’s bedroom measured an eight on the Shock Scale, what he’d done in the living room rated a twenty.

  A wide banner hanging across the foyer promised A Night to Remember, while crepe paper streamers crisscrossed the room and led to clusters of gray and white helium balloons in each of the room’s four corners. A scattering of candles provided the only light, reflected in tinfoil stars Colt had affixed to the ceiling and walls, their twinkling glow a mirror image of the flickering flames below. He’d situated a small round table near the wall, draped in white linen and set with two covered dishes, champagne glasses, a basket of sliced French bread, and a small plate of olive oil for dipping. If that weren’t impressive enough, he’d fashioned a photo station in the far corner, using a tripod with tall potted plants for the backdrop.

  She couldn’t believe it. He must have worked on this all day.

  “Colt,” she breathed in awe. “It’s amazing.”

  He wasted no time ushering her across the room. “First things first,” he said. “We need our picture taken.”

  “Absolutely.” She slipped right into character, giddy with excitement. “Before we start dancing and get all hot and sweaty.”

  “That’s right.”

  He pushed a button on the digital camera, and they rushed into the corner to assume the standard prom pose: Colt standing behind her with his hands resting lightly on her waist, her hands atop his. When the timer beeped, Leah lifted her chin and smiled more widely than she had in months. The camera flashed, and she blinked to restore her sight while Colt jogged around to check the LCD panel. He nodded in satisfaction and motioned for her to sit at the table.

  After she took her seat, he helped scoot her chair forward, then filled their glasses with sparkling punch and joined her.

  He raised his champagne flute and toasted, “Here’s to getting it right the second time.”

  “I’ll drink to that.”

  They clinked glasses and took a sip, and then Colt reached over and removed the silver trays covering both their meals. At once, savory steam wafted up from her plate of grilled chicken, scalloped potatoes, and green beans. Her mouth watered in response.

  “I can’t compete with you in the kitchen,” he said, “but I did my best.”

  “CJ, this is too much.” She gazed around the room at the magical transformation. No one had ever put so much time and effort into a date with her. “I don’t deserve all this.”

  When she faced him again, it was to find him watching her with amusement dancing behind his sea-blue eyes. The candlelight cast shadows beneath his strong cheekbones and full lips, sharpening the masculine angles of his face until she almost couldn’t look at him. He was so handsome it hurt.

  “You called me CJ,” he said.

  Heat flushed her cheeks, forcing her to glance down at her plate. “This means a lot to me.”

  “This is just as much for me as it is for you.” He pointed his fork at her. “And don’t forget our agreement. You better not go sad on me.”

  “Not a chance.”

  She cut into her chicken and began eating, Colt following suit. He’d underestimated his cooking skills, and she told him so with nearly every bite. They spent the next half hour dining and talking, laughing and remembering when. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d had so much fun. After they finished their meal, Colt reached beneath the table and produced a small white bakery box. She already knew what was inside, and he confirmed it by lifting the lid. A single Richman’s éclair rested atop a white paper doily.

  “I was hoping we could share it,” Colt said, watching intently for her reaction.

  Leah faced her enemy, unafraid. “Fine. But I want the bigger half.”

  He quickly wiped his knife clean, probably afraid she’d change her mind, then cut the pastry in two and handed her an ever-so-slightly larger piece. Once again, he proposed a toast. “To living in the moment.”

  “And enjoying the sweetness in life,” she added before tapping his half and sinking into hers. That first bite rocked her taste buds in a burst of chocolaty flavor and cool crème that had her toes curling inside her strappy sandals. She finished the rest in tiny nibbles, savoring each morsel while Colt gobbled his and licked his fingers clean. God bless, it was so good. She wanted another.

  “Now that we’ve had dessert,” Colt said, pulling two slips of paper and a pencil from his inside breast pocket, “it’s time to vote for king and queen.”

  She laughed and motioned for the pencil. “I hope we win.”

  “Me too.” He handed over a sheet. “Nobody here deserves it more than us.”

  They scribbled their votes and Colt read the results. “We win by a landslide!” He pumped his fist into the air while Leah clapped her hands and cheered. She played along with the ruse, but didn’t expect him to leave the room and return with a two-tiered rhinestone tiara fit for an empress.

  “Colt!” she chided. This really was too much.

  Taking her hand, he led her to the “dance floor” in the middle of the living room and settled the crown atop her head. “Now, don’t fuss at me. It was no big deal. I saw it in a Halloween clearance bin, and picked it up for next to nothing.”

  He was such a liar. A considerate, loveable liar.

  “Then where’s your crown?” she asked, automatically linking her fingers behind his neck for a dance.

  He drew her close and took her waist between his large palms. “Honey, no self-respecting lawman wears a crown.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Common knowledge. Besides, I already feel like a king.” He pressed a finger to her lips. “No more arguing. I
’ve been waiting ten years for this dance, and I mean to enjoy it.”

  She didn’t object—she’d waited a long time for this too. Instead, she rested her cheek on Colt’s chest as they swayed to the slow, sensual rhythm of “I Wanna Make You Close Your Eyes” by Dierks Bentley. By the time the song ended, she’d eliminated any sliver of space between them in a compulsion to get closer.

  Colt didn’t release her. He held on tighter than before, continuing their lazy sway while he waited for the next song to play. When a man’s voice crooned from the speakers, promising there’s no gettin’ over me, Leah couldn’t help hearing her own story reflected in the lyrics. No matter how fast or far she’d run, she’d never escaped Colt’s hold on her. She’d never gotten over him, and she doubted she ever would. This man was it for her—she loved him. A shiver of fear chilled her bones, reminding her she might lose him tomorrow, but she staved it off by burrowing her face deeper into his chest and pulling in his warm, woodsy scent.

  Colt rested his cheek atop her head and caressed the exposed skin on her shoulders. In the gentle glow of starlight and flickering flames, they danced through song after song, clinging to each other with an urgency that charged the air. The prom night Colt had recreated easily trumped the one they’d missed. When Leah lifted her face to tell him so, he took her cheek in one hand and met her halfway with a soft kiss. It caught her off guard, but she didn’t hesitate to open to him, encouraging his seeking tongue with the tip of her own.

  Time got lost as they shared easy kisses, tentatively tasting and exploring, the music forgotten until they were no longer dancing but trying to complete one another. Her hips sought his and found him swelling with desire. A low groan rumbled from his throat while his hands slid down over her back and settled on her bottom. Matching his need, she ran her palms over the contours of his steely chest, eager to feel his burning skin against hers. Colt broke the kiss and moved to her neck, where he brushed his way to her ear. When he took her lobe between his teeth, she pushed lightly against his shoulder and asked him to stop.