by Tonya Brooks
“Damn straight.” Matt readily agreed. “I doubt he tries to kiss you again.” Which made him think of kissing her and the heat began to coil low in his belly.
She shuddered in revulsion. “God, I hope not.”
He nodded in satisfaction at her response and asked, “Do you need a ride home?” When her startled gaze met his for the first time, he smiled and assured her, “You'll be safe with me.” In spite of the fact that he wanted her like crazy, Matt had never attacked a woman in his life, and he wasn't about to start now.
“Then I'll be the only one,” she responded in her usual candid manner. “I've heard no female is safe in the 'Bed on Wheels'.”
Folding his arms over his bare chest, Matt resisted the urge to laugh at the name his friends had dubbed the '57 Chevy he drove. “I take it you know who I am.”
“Matthew Jedidiah Baker II, the best lookin' bad boy in town,” she answered without hesitation. He was a pure hellion according to gossip. He fought like a demon, drove like a maniac and drank like a sailor on leave. But it was his reputation as a lover that the women couldn't quit talking about. They all swore that he was as gentle and patient in bed as he was tough and impatient out of it.
This time Matt did laugh. His reputation had preceded him, it seemed. “And you are?”
“Harley Abbot.”
Desire had a name and it shocked him. So this was the infamous Harley Abbot. Her mother was the talk of the town and had been for as long as he could remember. It was no wonder she'd kicked Simms ass for insulting her. The girl was reputed to have been in almost as many fights as he had, just trying to defend her mom from idiots like Simms. Not to mention, he'd heard his brother moan over how she wouldn't give him the time of day for at least a year now.
“Mark mentions you often,” he grinned and wished it wasn't so dark under the bleachers. He'd like a better look at the female that had the puppy in such a frenzy, and himself in a nearly painful state of arousal. Thank God he hadn't kissed her. She was still in high school and too damned young for him to mess with. Funny how that fact didn't temper the desire he felt in the least.
She rolled her eyes. “I'll bet.”
Mark had been chasing her forever and refused to believe that she didn’t want to go out with him. At seventeen, he was just as handsome as his older brother since they could have passed for twins, but it was his reputation that kept her away. The last thing Harley wanted was a guy like her father, who had been the worst sort of bad boy imaginable. Her dream was to settle down and live a normal life with a man who'd love her forever. Mark Baker could never fill that role. He just wasn't cut out to be a one woman man.
Curious as to why she wouldn't date his brother, he suggested, “Put the puppy out of his misery and go out with him, Harley.” Her reaction wasn't what he had expected.
“Okay. Maybe we can double date with you and Cheryl Peters,” she shot back. Everybody except Cheryl seemed to know that he wanted nothing to do with her, and Harley felt the same way about Mark. Not that he was crazy like Cheryl and stalked her. Mark really was a great guy. He just wasn't the man for her.
After the initial shock, Matt laughed in genuine amusement. She was full of sass and didn't mind saying exactly what she thought. “On second thought, stay away from my brother. I don't think he can handle you.”
Harley grinned at his assessment and assured him, “He won't get the chance. Mark isn't the faithful type and I want a man who'll be all mine.”
Matt nodded as if her statement made perfect sense even though he was totally clueless. Why would any man want to tie himself down with one woman when he could have them all? Variety was something that he preferred and he knew his brother shared the sentiment. Apparently, Harley knew it, too. That being the case, his brother didn’t stand a chance in hell with her. Mark wasn't any more capable of being faithful to one woman than he was.
Looking around, he noticed that the parking lot was practically empty. “It looks like the crowd's gone. Come on. I'll take you home.”
Since the bad boy had done nothing but try to protect her, Harley felt no qualms about accepting a ride from him. Besides, the chance to spend more time with him was too tempting to pass up. The man was simply irresistible. “Okay,” she agreed easily and fell into step beside him as they made their way to the gate.
The sound of a shrill voice screeching his name stopped both of them in their tracks and he turned to see a furious Cheryl headed toward them. Matt felt a surge of pure adrenaline race through his veins and had a split second to choose fight or flight mode. A fight was definitely out of the question. There was no way he could risk letting Cheryl jump on Harley like she had Janet last week. He'd already seen Harley in action and there wasn't a doubt in his mind that she'd kick the other woman’s ass. Then there would be hell to pay when the chief found out about it.
Flight was the only option. Intent on protecting her from the crazy woman bearing down on them, he scooped Harley into his arms and ran flat out to his car. Matt jumped over the door of the convertible, slid beneath the wheel with practiced ease, and dropped her as gently as possible beside him on the seat. With a turn of the key, the powerful engine roared to life. He slammed it in low and literally burned rubber out of the parking lot.
Matthew slid sideways onto the road like a bat out of hell and the momentum slid Harley across the seat to the passenger side. She grabbed the armrest and managed to stay upright as she glanced out of the open window to see Cheryl chasing after them on foot. Like she had a chance in hell of catching them, she thought in amusement. The old Chevy might look like a piece of junk, but it was supposed to be the fastest car in town. Harley didn't doubt it. This thing would haul ass.
“Why don't you just tell her to go to hell?” She asked in confusion and couldn't imagine why he was running from Cheryl instead of confronting her. Matthew Baker was not the kind of man that avoided a confrontation. According to gossip, he had a vicious temper and would fight at the drop of a hat with anyone foolish enough to cross him.
“Because Cheryl will cry,” Matt sighed wearily. “If there's one thing I can't handle, its tears.”
Right then and there, Harley vowed to never cry in front of him. “It's gotta be better than this,” she reasoned.
She was right and he knew it, but dammit, he just didn't know what to do when a woman cried. It wasn't like he could tell her to suck it up and shake it off. He'd tried that once and felt like a complete ass when the woman had cried even harder. “I know,” he said in resignation. “I just hate to hurt her feelings.”
Harley couldn’t help smiling at that. In spite of his wicked reputation as a bad boy, he really was a nice guy. And, Lord, he was gorgeous, she thought as she stared at his muscular chest and arms. His muscles rippled and flexed with every movement beneath the sun bronzed flesh and her mouth went dry at the sight. She could still feel the strength in them as they had held her and a tingle of pleasure zinged its way up her spine.
Matt looked over at his passenger and got a glimpse of her face in the dim light from a street lamp they flew past. It had been too dark under the bleachers to see anything except shadows outlined against the darkness, but now he saw that she'd been injured. “Your lip is bleeding,” he growled and wished he had beaten the hell out of Simms. Maybe he should be the one to teach him how to treat a lady.
“Damn Charlie,” she fumed and flipped the sun visor down to look at herself in the mirror. Harley barely managed to stifle a moan at her appearance. The wind was whipping her hair all over the place and she looked awful even without the bloody lip. Talk about making a lousy first impression. There was no way she could have made a worse one.
Not that it mattered one way or the other, Harley assured herself as she flipped the visor back up. A bad boy like Matthew was the last man on earth she should be interested in. Even if he was interested in her. Which he obviously was not. Dammit.
Matt reached over and opened the glove compartment to offer her a handful of napkins fro
m various fast food restaurants. “Sorry. It's all I've got.”
“Thanks,” she sighed and dabbed at her lip with a napkin. Her lips were swollen and bruised from being pressed against her teeth while Charlie assaulted her mouth. “I hope I broke his jaw.”
He smiled at her viciousness and stopped for a red light. Yeah, she was a wild one alright. It was no wonder Mark was after her. Harley sure as hell wasn't like most females he knew and Matt knew a lot of them. She hadn't flirted with him at all, and thank God, she didn't giggle. The way she spoke her mind, a man would know exactly where he stood with her, which was freakin’ awesome. Most women seemed to think a guy should be able to read their minds, or at least know what they were thinking.
Hell, she hadn't even complained about him snatching her up and dumping her in the car. Or that he drove too fast. And most shocking of all, she wasn't bitching that having the top down was ruining her hair, which seemed to be some kind of unpardonable sin. She was different, alright, and he was seriously impressed.
Wouldn’t you know she’d go and do something to make him think she was more than little looney toons? A car pulled up in the turn lane beside them and she slid so low in the seat that half of her body was in the foot. Coming up with the only reason that made any sense at all, he asked in amusement, “Afraid being seen with me will ruin your reputation?”
Duh, she was afraid him being seen with her would ruin his. “If anybody sees me with this busted lip, who do you think they'll blame?” Harley asked him seriously.
Matthew had come to her rescue and she'd be dammed if she'd let him be blamed for assaulting her. The sanctimonious citizens of Lakeside would accuse him of that and God only knew what else if they saw them together. Especially since he was half dressed. Yeah. That rumor could get ugly real quick.
She had a damn good point, Matt realized. It would be all over town by morning that he had attacked her. Trouble like that he did not need. He accelerated slowly when the light changed and for once, paid attention to the traffic laws. The last thing he needed was to be pulled over while she was with him. The gossips would have a field day with this, especially since she was a minor.
“Just how old are you?” He asked when that thought occurred to him.
“Sixteen,” she said as she slid back up into the seat again.
“Jailbait,” he muttered as if it were an obscenity.
“What?” She asked warily since he now had a scowl on his handsome face.
“Jailbait,” he repeated and tried to figure out a polite way to explain the term. “When an adult, uh... fools around with a minor, the minor is called jail bait since the adult is going to jail.”
“That's illegal?”
“Damn straight. Which is why I stay away from minors,” he agreed seriously as he pulled into her driveway. Matt hadn't needed to ask for directions. Lakeside was a small town and everyone knew where everyone else lived, as well as the rest of their business.
Harley couldn't prevent a stab of disappointment at that, but she assured herself that she'd never had a chance with him anyway. Matthew had his pick of the ladies and at nineteen; he was way out of her league. He was also the baddest bad boy in town and not the kind of man she should have any interest in, she reminded herself. Again.
“Thanks for the ride. I really appreciate it,” she said as she reached for the door handle and discovered there wasn't one.
The look she gave him spoke volumes about his cars reputation and he laughed as he got out and went around to open her door. “The handle broke and I haven't found a replacement yet.” Matt explained as he walked her to the house. He'd been rebuilding the car piece by piece and finding original parts for such a popular classic wasn't always easy, but it damn sure was expensive. Even so, he was determined to restore the Bel Aire to her former beauty, no matter how long it took.
“Uh, huh,” she said in amusement and was thrilled at the gentlemanly behavior he was exhibiting by walking her to the door. The man did know how to make a girl feel special.
“It really did,” he assured her, for some strange reason not wanting her to believe the worst about him. Normally, he didn't give a damn what anybody thought.
“Okay,” Harley agreed easily as she unlocked the door and turned to smile up at him.
Matt got his first real look at her in the light and sucked in his breath sharply, the heat surging wildly through his veins again. No wonder Mark was in such a lather. Harley Abbot was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. A waist length mane of tousled golden hair framed the face of an angel and eyes of deepest blue shone as brightly as pure sapphires.
His obsidian gaze darkened even more as it settled on her bruised, swollen lips. The sight of something so perfect being marred seriously pissed him off. Matt decided that he really would beat the hell out of Simms and teach him how to treat a lady. Cupping her cheek in one hand, he brushed his thumb lightly over her mouth. “Does it hurt?”
“No,” she barely breathed, mesmerized by the look in his eyes. His irises were black and she'd never seen more beautiful eyes before. It was like looking into polished onyx and she was amazed at the tenderness she saw in them.
Without a thought to the consequences of his actions, wanting only to erase the pain of Simms assault, he lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers in a kiss as light as gossamer. “Let me know when you're eighteen, Harley.” Matt said seriously, his eyes memorizing the perfection of her face. “I promise I'll show you how a lady should be treated.” That said, he bounded off the porch and back to his car before he gave in to the temptation to really kiss her.
Harley was still standing there staring after him in astonishment long after his tail lights had disappeared into the night, her entire body tingling with excitement. He'd kissed her! Matthew Baker had kissed her! She couldn't believe it. The most handsome guy alive had kissed her! Okay, so it hadn't been a real kiss, but it was close enough to fuel her adolescent fantasies for weeks to come.
And it did.
~~~~
Matt's fantasies were anything but adolescent and he cursed himself to hell and back that night when he couldn't get Harley out of his head. At two o'clock he gave up and took a cold shower that did nothing to quench his desire. Dammit! He was disgusted with himself. Why the hell had he kissed her? She was just a kid and he didn't mess with jailbait. Hell, he'd even told her that.
So why was he so turned on by what hadn't even been a real kiss? Because it had left him wanting a hell of a lot more than he could have, dammit. Vaguely recalling some old adage about forbidden fruit being sweeter, he punched his pillow in frustration and finally managed to fall asleep, but his dreams about her were pure torment.
The torment didn't get any better.
Matt couldn't get her out of his head, no matter what he did. He had a date Saturday night, but when he kissed her, he saw Harley's beautiful face. He spent most of Sunday drinking and that didn't help either. He actually got drunk enough to drive past her house twice in the hopes of catching a glimpse of her. By Monday he was as irritable as hell and spoiling for a fight, which didn't bode well for anyone foolish enough to cross him. Luckily, there weren't many people stupid enough to do so.
Matt was a genuine badass with good reason. From the time he was old enough to walk, he had joined his father for his morning workout in their private gym. Jedidiah Baker was an expert in hand to hand combat, as well as several forms of martial arts, and his oldest son had taken to it as naturally as a duck to water. He'd be a perfect candidate for the military, but his father had been determined that Matt did not follow that path as he had done.
The old man got him a summer job at Henry's garage pumping gas when he was twelve and by the time he was thirteen, he was hounding the mechanic to teach him how to work on cars. Henry let him change oil and rotate tires under his careful supervision and discovered the boy had an aptitude for things mechanical. At fifteen, he gave him an old junker that had been sitting out back for years and to
ld him he could have it, if he could fix it. No one was more surprised or proud than Henry when the kid got the Chevy to run.
Matt had a way with an engine that the mechanic had never seen before. It seemed there was nothing he couldn't fix. Or turn into a hot rod. When he was sixteen, Henry hired him as a part time mechanic after school and was amazed at his capabilities. He was also amazed at the number of women that came into the garage just to see the handsome young man. It appeared that Matt's gentle touch could fine tune an engine or a woman and make them both purr in equal measures.
Once he was eighteen, Henry made a deal to sell the garage to Matt when he was ready to retire. The young man readily accepted since there was nothing he loved more than working on cars. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to get Harley off of his mind enough to do it right today. It seemed like everything he'd touched had gone to hell, including Mark's car. Which didn't improve his mood.
Matt was stuck driving his brother to and from school until he got the Mustang fixed. So that afternoon he was waiting for Mark after football practice when he recognized Harley walking toward his car. All of the anger and frustration he'd felt disappeared the minute he saw her and the heat consumed him again. Raw hunger, insistent and filled with need. Unwelcome and unwanted.
As impossible as it was to believe, she was even more perfect in the light of day. Especially since his shirt wasn't hiding her figure. She was wearing a blue form fitting T-shirt that matched her eyes and a pair of jeans that did absolutely nothing to disguise her curves and long legs. Sweet Jesus. He'd love to peel those jeans off, wrap those incredible legs around his hips and bury himself deep inside her. He groaned in agony at his body’s natural response to her and cursed himself to perdition.
~~~~
Harley couldn't prevent a smile of sheer feminine pleasure as she stopped next to Matt's door. Since he had the top up today, she bent at the waist until they were at eye level. Lord, he was even more gorgeous than she remembered. Hair as black as night was just long enough to curl on the ends and his eyes were hidden by shades, but she had no trouble recalling their obsidian darkness. The razor stubble added to the bad boy image and her heart began to hammer just looking at him.
