by Sabrina York
“I’d love to,” he said. And, with a glance at Claire, “Sometime. I was hoping to see Cody. Is he here?”
Claire tipped back her chin. “He’s out.”
“Out?”
“Auditioning a couple new guys.” She had no idea why he frowned. “Do you want me to GPS him?” A sarcastic barb. But before he could respond, she pulled out her phone and tapped in a code. “Okay. Cody is just leaving Dallas. He should be home in…about two hours.”
She glanced up to find Charlie staring at her. “You really have your brother on GPS?”
“Of course.”
“Doesn’t that bug him?”
She shrugged. “We’re running a business. It saves time when we need to find someone, and besides, I know all their dirty secrets.”
“Do they know yours?” A whisper. It sent a shiver up her spine.
“I don’t have any secrets,” she hissed back.
“Don’t you?”
Cade cleared his throat, shattering whatever spell that Charlie had woven around her and reminding her that she and Charlie weren’t alone. Not hardly alone. “Why don’t we plan on having dinner at Bubba’s?” he said. “It’s Tuesday and a bunch of the guys will be there. I know they’d love to see you again.”
“That sounds great. And now,” Charlie said, donning his hat and gloves, “I’d better get back to work. Nice to meet you, ma’am.” He nodded to Lisa and touched his brim. “Porsche. Claire.”
It might have been her imagination, but it seemed as though his gaze lingered on her a bit longer than it should have. Or she could be delusional.
Also, she reminded herself, she wasn’t interested in him. Not at all.
Still, when he left the room, it suddenly felt empty. Of course, it was probably because Cade and Lisa walked him out.
As the front screen door slammed shut, Porsche gusted a sigh. “Now that,” she said, “is a hot cop.”
Claire had no idea why fury raked her. “I thought you were in love with Cody,” she said in a tone that was a tad too harsh. It was a longtime joke between them that one day they would be sisters. Only to Porsche it had never been a joke.
“Cody? Cody who?” She affected that all too innocent look she was famous for. “Besides, Cody doesn’t know I’m alive.”
“He knows you’re alive.”
“You know what I mean.” She glanced down the hall to the door. “I’ll tell you one thing.”
“What?”
“I have a sudden hankering to go to Bubba’s tonight.”
And yeah. Who didn’t? But Claire wasn’t going to go. She had no intention of putting herself in Charlie Dunham’s path, ever again.
Not if she could help it.
Chapter FOUR
Claire shifted on the barstool, lifted her beer and glanced around Bubba’s. It was busy for a Tuesday night. Most of the tables were occupied and the weekly poker game was in full swing. But there was no sign of Charlie.
She shouldn’t have come. Didn’t know why she had.
It wasn’t like she wanted to see him again or anything.
She’d only come because Cade had asked.
Really.
“Can I get you another?” The warm, low voice from the other side of the bar captured her attention and she smiled at Dustin. He’d always had a sexy voice and though she liked listening to him talk in that Southern drawl, the rest of the package didn’t match up. Oh, he was nice enough and had been romantic during the time they’d dated. And he was handsome.
He just wasn’t the one.
“Oh hey, Dustin. Naw, I’m good.”
He flicked a look over her t-shirt. It was one of her favorites, with rhinestones spelling out Got Bling? on the front, but she didn’t care for the direction of his perusal. “You’re looking pretty tonight, Claire. Got a date?”
She huffed a laugh. “Nope. Just here with the boys.”
“Ah. And here I was thinking some idiot had stood you up.”
“Nope. No idiot.”
He nonchalantly rubbed a cloth over the bar. “You, ah, dating anyone now?”
Shit. She knew that tone. She shouldn’t even be talking to him. The last thing she wanted to do was encourage him. He’d been hard enough to shake off the last time she’d broken up with him.
If he started hounding her again, she’d be miserable. Just trying to avoid him took too much energy. Especially when he worked in the only place in town that made a decent burger.
A lie was most definitely in order.
She looked down and feigned a smile. “Maybe.”
His hand stilled. Curled into a fist around the rag. “Really?”
Holy crap. One word, but it spoke volumes. She had to look at him. His expression was tight, his chin hard. His eyes burned into her.
“One of those fancy Dallas boys you have up to the ranch, I s’pose.” Practically a snarl.
It took some effort to remain casual. “Darling, you know I never mix business with pleasure.”
An unexpected laugh at her shoulder danced over her cheek. Everything in her clenched as she recognized Charlie’s voice. His scent. “That’s good to know,” he said as he took the stool beside her. He tipped his head to Dustin. “A beer, please.”
Dustin frowned, then nodded and headed to the tap.
“Didn’t think I’d see you here tonight,” Charlie said in an undertone, with a hint of humor that made her want to smack him.
“It’s the only bar in town.”
“That it is.” He flicked a look around the bar.
She tried to be all blasé and pithy, but she made the mistake of looking at him. He wasn’t wearing his sexy uniform, but in button-fly jeans and a polo shirt, he was even more lethal. Jesus God it should be illegal for a man to wear a shirt that tight in public.
Or maybe it wasn’t the shirt. A shirt was just a shirt, wasn’t it?
It was all the shit packed into it.
Bulging pecs, broad shoulders, massive, veined biceps and that neck.
Technically, the neck wasn’t in the shirt, but still, it was thick and muscled and speckled with his day beard.
He glanced at her beer. His annoying brow quirked up. “You’re not driving, are you?” he whispered. “Because I’d hate to pull you over…again.”
She faked a smile. “Oh, come on, Charlie. You love pulling me over and you know it.”
“It was the highlight of my day. I admit it.”
“I live to serve.”
His smiled dimmed. “So…” A long pause. “You’re seeing someone?”
Heat sluiced through her at his question, at his tone. “What?”
“That’s what you told Dustin.”
Oh. Right. She forced a smile. “Yeah, well, there might be a guy I’m seeing.”
“Really? What’s his name?”
She stared at him. His name? Um… “Mark.”
“Hmm. Nice name. And what does Mark do for a living?”
Hell, she didn’t know. “Why do you ask?”
He met her gaze and something simmered between them. “Because I’m curious.”
Mark, Mark, Mark. What would a guy named Mark do for a living? “He’s a space pilot.”
Charlie’s eyes opened wide. “Wow. A space pilot.”
“Mmm hmm. In space.” She waggled a hand in the vague direction of the Crab Nebula.
“Pretty interesting work.”
“If you can get it. It’s kind of an elite thing.”
“I can imagine.”
Dustin brought his beer and Charlie took a sip.
“I suppose he spends a lot of time away.”
Claire nodded like a bobblehead doll. “Oodles.”
“And a girl like you…”
She narrowed her eyes. “A girl like me?”
“Gets lonely.”
“Hey now,” Dustin said. Apparently he’d never left. Claire hadn’t noticed because she’d been swimming in an ocean of cerulean.
“I beg your pardon?” Charlie sa
id, pinning Dustin with an intimidating look.
Dustin’s lips worked. “Are you hitting on Claire?”
“Of course not.” His expression was a little too innocent. “She has a boyfriend.”
There was no call for Dustin to glower at her like that. As though she’d betrayed him. They’d broken up years ago.
She nodded. “He’s from out of town.”
“He’d have to be,” Dustin muttered. “Or I’d know him. Where did you meet him?”
Oh holy crap. What was this? The Spanish Boyfriend Inquisition? And these guys weren’t even her brothers. She huffed a sigh and even worked up a tear. “I don’t want to talk about him,” she said, burying her face in her hands. “I miss him so much.”
“Aw. Look at that,” Charlie said to Dustin. “You made her cry.”
“I didn’t mean to make her cry. I was just asking—”
“I think you need some fresh air, Claire. Let’s go outside.”
Dustin squawked in protest, but Charlie had wrapped his arm around her and was walking her toward the back door before Dustin had a second to do more. They emerged in the alley behind the bar and Claire curled her nose.
“I thought you promised fresh air,” she quipped as they passed the trash cans.
Charlie chuckled and—for some reason—kept his arm around her as they made their way down the back alley. For some reason, she let him.
“You may thank me now,” he said after they’d reached the end of the road. It wasn’t long. This was Snake Gully, after all.
She glanced at him. “For what?”
“Rescuing you.”
“Did you?”
“From him.” He shook his head. “Dustin’s got it bad for you.”
Claire tipped up her chin and stared at the star-studded sky and unleashed a primal scream. It bounced off the buildings and annoyed several dogs in the vicinity. “I wish he would just forget about me.”
“You, ah, dated?”
“For a while.”
“Was it serious?”
“Apparently it was to him. He asked me to marry him.”
“Ah.”
She didn’t like it, the way he said that word. “I said no and we broke up.”
“Ah.” Same word. Very different tone.
She flicked a look at him. God, he was handsome in the shadows of the night with the streetlights hovering around him like a halo. She didn’t know what spurred her, but she opened her mouth and asked, “So do you have a girlfriend?”
Her heart stuttered when he stopped and turned to face her, set his hands on her shoulders and stared into her eyes. “If I did, would I rescue maidens in distress?”
“I was hardly in distress. But yes. You probably would. You’re a war hero.”
“Am I?”
“That’s what Cade says.”
“Not dying doesn’t make you a hero, but you’re right. I suppose I would still rescue damsels if I had a girlfriend. But you know what I wouldn’t do?”
“What?” He was so close. His breath skated over her face. His heat reached out to enfold her like a blanket. “What wouldn’t you do?”
“I wouldn’t do this.”
To her shock and delight, he bent his head and he kissed her.
Chapter Five
Un-fricking-believable. Claire Silver, in his arms, letting him kiss her.
And what a magnificent kiss it was. He caught her by surprise, so her lips were parted. When he pressed his mouth against hers, she sighed, or something like it, and her essence filled his being.
Damn, she tasted good.
He yanked her closer, tipped his head and deepened the kiss. Loved that she responded. Slowly, tentatively at first, but then with increasing passion. She looped her arms around his shoulders and cupped his nape with her palm. Stroked him with her thumb as he delved deeper.
She was a tiny thing, but the full package. Her body was soft and fit him in all the right places.
And yeah. All the times he’d fantasized about kissing her…not one of them even came close to the reality.
His passion rose and he couldn’t help pressing against her belly. She made a sound like a moan and reciprocated, arching into him and curling her fingers against his skin.
The parted by mutual consent—though an ache rose as he lost the connection—and he sighed.
She stared up at him, her eyes damp, lips parted. And yeah, they were damp too. Her tongue swept out and he nearly lost it, right then and there.
“When did you get so tall?” she asked in a contemplative tone, one almost devoid of prickles.
“When did you get so short?” he asked. “You’re practically a runt.”
She hit him with her fist, but only in jest. He barely felt it. “I’m not a runt.”
“You’re short. I have to bend down to kiss you.”
“You could always kiss someone else,” she said in a defiant tone.
“You could stand on a box.”
“I’m not standing on a box.”
He tsked at her. “You’re being unreasonable.”
“Am I?” she said on a laugh. It was hard to maintain his dour demeanor. They turned and strolled over to Main Street, as though neither was ready for this interaction to end.
“Yes. Lots of women throughout history have stood on a box for their men.”
“Name one.”
“Queen Victoria.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute.”
“It’s true. Google it.”
“I’m not going to Google it. I have better things to do than worry about how Queen Victoria climbed Prince Albert.”
“There are more.”
“Oh dear.” She gusted a sigh. “Do tell.”
“Cleopatra. Joan of Arc. Mother Teresa.”
“Balderdash. Mother Teresa never kissed a man.”
“How do you know?”
“She was a nun.”
He waggled his brows. “She wasn’t always a nun.”
“This conversation is pointless.”
“It is not. It is very important that we work this out. I would like to kiss you again, at some point.” Like now.
“Wouldn’t you rather kiss Cleopatra? She was very beautiful and passionate and, from what I understand, was willing to stand on a box.”
“Ah, but you’re forgetting the asps. I try to avoid women who keep vipers as pets.”
“Well, yes, I suppose that is a good idea.” He took her hand as they wandered toward the park, and she let him. In fact, she interlaced their fingers, which he found encouraging indeed. The night air was sweet and cool and riffled gently through her hair. Her beauty was only enhanced by the glow of the moon. “If you could kiss any of them, which would you choose?” she asked after a moment.
“Hmm.” He pretended to ponder this conundrum. “I can’t think of any other short woman I would rather kiss than you.”
She stopped and looked up at him, torn between outrage and humor. “I’m not short.”
They were next to the merry-go-round—which was providential—so he lifted her up on it. Finally they were face-to-face. “That’s better.”
“What’s better?” she said, but her voice had softened and she leaned into him in a delicious way. He rocked the merry-go-round, just a bit, just enough to make her clutch him in her surprise.
“And better still.”
“Good sir, I do think you intend to debauch me.”
Debauch her? Hmm. Not a bad idea. “I was planning to kiss you, but hey, who am I to deny a lady?”
She stilled as their gazes clashed. Her smile faded. In its place was something even more lovely. Desire. He pulled her closer and breathed in her scent.
“Did you know I had a crush on you when we were kids?” He wasn’t sure why he admitted it. He’d sworn he never would.
“You did?” Her eyes widened.
“Couldn’t you tell?”
“No. You were so mean to me.”
“Only because I wanted
your attention.”
She scudded her palm over his short hair. It felt divine. “Do you want my attention now?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
“Are you going to be mean?”
“Never.”
“Well, then,” she said, but she didn’t finish the sentence, unless she meant to express herself in a more tactile fashion. She tipped her head to the side and pressed her mouth to his. It was tender and soft and clinging and it incited him to respond. He nudged her lips apart with his tongue and tasted her. She groaned and her fingers curled; she raked her nails over his scalp.
And damn, it was good. A shiver danced up his spine.
Unfortunately, bracing on the merry-go-round was a bad strategy, because it kept moving, so he whipped her up into his arms and sat, cradling her on his lap. He leaned her against one of the poles and used that for leverage in his kiss.
He tasted her, reveled in her and she reciprocated. He had no idea how long they kissed, explored, exulted in each other, but it wasn’t nearly long enough. Forever would be good, he supposed. Not asking much.
This was too wonderful to even think of stopping.
She was an armful, his Claire, and he could tell a deep passion bubbled beneath that slightly cynical surface. As her passion rose, she drew her hands over his shoulders and chest and then, to his horror and delight, found the hem of his polo shirt and slipped beneath it, touching him flesh to flesh.
Holy crap. His cock surged. He almost heard the boiiing.
“We’re in the park,” he said, more to himself than her.
“It’s dark,” she whispered. “No one can see.”
He pulled back. He had to. Because in a minute he’d have her on the dirt beneath him. She deserved better than that. “Come home with me.”
He saw the yearning in her eyes, but then a cloud fell. “I can’t, Charlie.”
“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.”
