Set the Night on Fire

by Laura Trentham

  He cleared his throat, and Megan stepped away, wiping at her eyes and casting a wet, swollen smile in Mack’s direction. “Thanks for taking out the trash.”

  The unexpected sass from Megan sent a wave of relief through Ella. “Why don’t you go pour a couple of glasses of wine, Megan, and we’ll binge on a TV show? I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Once Megan was gone, Ella joined Mack in the foyer.

  “I should go,” he said with the slight lilt of a question.

  “Megan needs a friend right now.”

  “I get it.” He worked the locks of the front door and stepped onto the wraparound porch.

  She followed, closing the door behind her. “By the way, your shirt is on inside out.”

  He held the front out and chuckled. “I guess it’s no secret what your ex interrupted.”

  “I guess not.” When he turned to go, she laid her hand on his arm. “Thanks for everything tonight.”

  “Everything?” The sexy innuendo was mistakable.

  She was an expert at superficially flirting with men. The blush heating her cheeks proved Mack was a different beast. A very sexy different beast.

  “I’m only sorry I didn’t get to return the favor.” Her lips were rubbery with nerves. She and Trevor had never teased and flirted and bantered. The sex had been mechanical at best and boring toward the end. Based on tonight’s sampling, nothing about Mack in bed would be either.

  “Another time, hopefully soon. If the anticipation doesn’t kill me first.” He leaned back on the column at the top of the porch stairs, his hands caught in the small of his back.

  She tightened her hold on him, popped to her toes, and kissed him. She swept her tongue over his bottom lip, but put space between them before it could go any deeper. Feeling naughty and brave in the near darkness, she walked her fingers down the front of his jeans. He was still semi-erect.

  Before she could fall to her knees and do something even riskier, he grasped both her arms, brushed a kiss over her forehead, and clomped down the stairs, as if she’d transformed from lover to relative. A distant one at that. He turned at the bottom. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Yes. In the morning.” The words emerged on a croak.

  His truck rumbled off and disappeared. Megan toed the front door open and offered a glass of red wine. Ella sipped, still staring where the road was swallowed by hundred-year-old water oaks.

  “I’m sorry,” Megan said softly.

  “You can’t help the way Trevor acts.”

  “Not that. I sort of warned Mack off you. I worried he might be using you to get to your portion of the garage. I didn’t realize how serious the two of you were.”

  “We’re not serious.”

  “Oh really?” Megan arched one eyebrow as if she were mapping an attack plan. “So you wouldn’t mind if I tried to hit that?”

  Something visceral and green stretched its wings in Ella’s chest. “Keep your hands off him. He’s mine.”

  Megan smiled, her tear-swollen eyes scrunching into slits. “That’s what I thought.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ella rubbed at her gritty eyes and headed straight into the break room for a cup of coffee. Last one out of the garage was tasked to set the maker up to brew on an automatic timer. She swirled the dark mass in her cup and sniffed. The smell alone offered a pick-me-up. She took a sip, the concoction so strong, it was almost chewy. Copious packets of sugar and creamer made it palatable.

  Closing her eyes, she leaned against the counter and sipped until the caffeine lubricated the cogs of her brain. She and Megan had split a bottle of wine and stayed up late discussing the situation with Trevor. When she’d managed to drift to sleep, Mack had bulldozed his way into her dreams.

  “How’s the coffee?” Jackson rubbed a hand over his face, poured a cup, and took a sip of the black brew.

  “It has the consistency of motor oil.” Ella’s voice was rough from overuse. Her evenings since moving to Cottonbloom had been mostly quiet and solitary mixed in with the occasional party or fundraiser. The last time she’d stayed up talking half the night had been a middle-school sleepover.

  “It’ll wake you up, that’s for sure.” A companionable silence fell as they sipped. Finally, Jackson asked, “I assume Mack made nice last night?”

  The image of Mack’s mouth making nice between her legs flashed. As if Jackson could see her thoughts, a jolt of adrenaline, super heated by the coffee, blazed through her. Boy howdy, she was awake now. “He made nice, yes.”

  “Good, because sometimes he can be stubborn. And intractable. And closed off.”

  “And lonely.” The assessment slipped around her better judgment.

  Jackson’s gaze sharpened on her, his eyes freakily similar to Mack’s. “Maybe so.”

  “I’d better get to work.” Her quickstep out of the break room matched her heartbeat.

  Settling herself behind the desk, she did a double-check on the new program. Everything was processing smoothly. It was time to get Mack up to speed and hand it over to him to manage. It would be a relief. She could concentrate on planning the car show, which would keep her out of Mack’s hair and away from other parts of his anatomy while they were working.

  Twenty minutes after eight, Mack backed through the front door, tucking a thick tan work shirt into black pants. His hair was still mussed from bed. He stopped in the doorway of the office and finger-combed it, making the sexy chaos even sexier.

  “Your face!” Ella shot up from behind the desk. Her heart traipsed along like she’d injected coffee straight into an artery.

  He’d shaved his beard off, revealing a strong jawline and chin—not that she’d thought he was hiding a weak anything underneath the facial hair. He looked younger and slightly less intimidating. Although, there was still a fire in his eyes and a stubbornness in his jutting chin.

  “It was past time to lose the winter beard.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “No need to apologize to me. You run the joint.”

  “Last time I was late, I had stayed out late drinking at the Tavern. Pop put me on the grinder all day. It was miserable.” He shuffled farther into the office.

  The nostalgia in his voice made her smile before a different worry settled. “You’re not nursing a hangover this morning, are you?”

  “Not of the alcoholic variety, no.” A grumbly awareness in his voice had her sitting up straighter and squirming. Modulated to professional levels, he continued. “What’s your plan for the day?”

  “The new software is ready to roll out. I need to train you.”

  He checked the wall-mounted clock. “How long will it take? I have a car coming in for an estimate soon.”

  “We can do it after.” Do it. Why did the adolescent words have to go on repeat in her head?

  “Sounds good.” The way his gaze flicked over her made her body temperature rise another degree. Thankfully, he stepped onto the shop floor to talk to his brothers, and she was out of his pheromone range. She grabbed a handful of papers and fanned herself. Mack with a beard had been devastating to her concentration; Mack without a beard was the iceberg to her Titanic.

  Ella had never been obsessed with sex. In fact, just the opposite. She’d learned early on that sex was used too often to hurt people. Trevor had manipulated her with it, and she had avoided being drawn into the web of complications sex weaved. Which is why her sudden obsession with Mack was so disconcerting.

  By midafternoon, Mack had wrapped up his work and was ready to spend time learning the new program. He pulled up a chair, situating himself a little behind her and to the side. “Got your tire patched and back on your car. You should be good for another ten thousand miles or so.”

  She had forgotten about her tire, but Mack hadn’t. Taking care of cars was his job, but in this, it felt like he was taking care of her. “Thank you.”

  “No problem.” He rubbed his hands together. “Let’s get this party started.”
>
  “Party? Your expectations are high, but I’m confident the program will save you time and streamline orders and payments.”

  Her tutorial started well enough. She pointed out what each column meant and went through one order, walking him through the process.

  “So here…” He draped an arm over the back of the chair and leaned in, his hand on the mouse. It felt like a mock embrace. “This is a recurring order. How do I trigger the reorder when inventory gets low?”

  “This column.” She put her hand over his on the mouse, guided it to the correct place, and right-clicked to bring up a side menu.

  “Nice. That will definitely save me time.”

  Was it weird she hadn’t moved her hand off his? It felt weird but good at the same time.

  “And what about this?” He moved their hands on the mouse in tandem to another column.

  “That’s—” She cleared her throat when the word came out broken. “That’s for bulk items. Nuts, bolts, washers.”

  Finally, she removed her hand and picked up a piece of paper she’d tucked under the keyboard. “Scroll to the bottom, and we’ll enter this order together.”

  He leaned even closer, his breath tickling the side of her ear. She only had to turn her head and her lips would be touching his smooth jaw.

  It wasn’t fair that the first time in her life she’d been stupidly, undeniably, unbearably on fire for a man, it was for one who complicated her life immeasurably.

  “This is crazy,” she whispered.

  “Seems pretty straightforward to me.” He moved his hand to the keyboard to enter the numbers, his biceps brushing her breast.

  “I’m not talking about this.” She waved her hand over the monitor. “I’m talking about this.” She pointed back and forth from her to him.

  “Why is this crazy?” He mimicked her actions.

  “I have something you’re desperate for. Twenty-five percent of the garage.”

  “That’s not all I’m desperate for.” His lips quirked.

  God, his lips were lovely. So was his now-undisguised smile. She blinked and forced her gaze onto the computer monitor. “The question of ownership—”

  “Doesn’t enter into the equation when it comes to me and you.”

  She harrumphed. “Of course it does.”

  “Why can’t we separate business and pleasure?”

  “This doesn’t feel separate to me. Does it to you?” Their faces were inches apart, and she wondered what he would do if she leaned in and kissed him with his brothers on the shop floor and with the office door wide open.

  “I don’t know, Ella, but I can’t leave you alone. Not yet.”

  Was she something to work out of his system? Or maybe would she eventually work him out of her system.

  “Speaking of business, let’s finish up here.” He nodded toward the computer

  She took a breath and concentrated on the screen. The heat emanating from Mack was distracting and intoxicating, but she got through the training without doing anything inappropriate.

  He hit return to finalize the last order, and she pushed at the desk, sending her office chair rolling to a safe more-than-arm’s-length distance. “That’s it then. Simple, right?”

  “Simple.” He rose and put the desk between them. “I’m not sure I would have had the gumption to make the change. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” It was still a shock to hear words of thanks come out of his mouth when it came to the garage.

  He looked like he wanted to say something else for a minute, but retreated to the shop floor. She worked on the last details of the program and wrote up basic instructions. By the time she stretched herself out of the chair, the garage floor was quiet.

  Mack sauntered in, his hands stuffed into his front pockets. She plopped back in the seat as he came around to her side of the desk and half-sat on the edge.

  “Almost done?”

  “I guess you’re ready to lock up.” She gathered her purse.

  He reached forward and tapped her glasses. “I like you in these.”

  She’d only recently broken down and gotten a pair of glasses for reading and computer work. She yanked them off and fiddled with her hair. “I know. Real cute, right?”

  “Actually, more like sexy as hell. It’s why ‘Hot for Teacher’ was a monster hit.”

  “Oh.” Would putting them back on be too obvious a ploy?

  “You interested in having dinner with me tonight?”

  Her heart did a funny jig in her chest. Was this a date or a continuation of work? Where did business end and pleasure begin? “Sure. A girl’s got to eat. Where do you want to go?”

  “A fancy little place I like to call Chez Abbott.”

  “You’re going to cook for me?”

  “You like ramen noodles, right? How about fried Spam, then?” At her grimace, a slow smile spread across his face. “Kidding. I can do a better than that.”

  She could care less what they ate. They’d be alone at his house with a king-sized bed to finish what they’d started without interruption from her ex or her ex’s ex. “I’d love to join you for dinner.”

  She gathered her things while he waited. He flipped the lights off as they walked to the main door. Darkness enveloped them. Her hand was on the door, yet she didn’t turn the knob. He wrapped an arm around her waist and brought their bodies together.

  His was hot and hard and tempting. She reached around, put her hand on his butt, and pulled him even tighter against her. Dinner? She was hungry, but not for food.

  The smoothness of his cheek brushed her neck a heartbeat before his lips made contact. Sensation streaked through her body. She felt like a grenade with the pin hanging on for dear life.

  She turned, put her back against the door, and yanked him forward by two fistfuls of shirt. Her lips slammed into his with more enthusiasm and less finesse. He eased the pressure and took control, his hand encircling her nape.

  She let go of his shirt, stood on tiptoes, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, bringing her breasts into full contact with his chest. She wished she’d worn heels today. And a skirt. With no panties. What did that say about her? That she embraced her sexuality and this new phase of her life? Or that she was desperate for this man’s touch? Maybe both.

  He framed her face with his hands, his thumbs caressing her cheeks in a way that made her chest tighten. The kiss was slower and gentler and held more emotion than she could handle.

  She hitched her leg up and curled it around his thigh, canting her hips and putting just enough space between them to slip her hand to the front of his pants. He was rock solid in every way.

  Yes. The word echoed in her head, and she was pretty sure she’d said it aloud.

  “I promised you dinner.” His lips moved against hers.

  “I promised you something last night before we were so rudely interrupted.” Courage flared in the darkness. Or was it recklessness? There was a fine line between the two, and she couldn’t distinguish which swept her along.

  She fumbled with his belt and button and zipper, finally succeeding in peeling his pants open to run her fingers over the ridge concealed by his cotton underwear. He sucked in a breath and rested his forearms on either side of her head.

  “This is crazy,” he said in a mimic of her earlier declaration.

  It was crazy, but she blamed him. He made her crazy.

  She slipped to her knees, pulling his underwear down with her until it gathered, along with his pants, mid-thigh. His erection bobbed mere millimeters from her lips. The concrete was cold and hard under her knees. The glowing exit sign cast an eerie reddish light over them.

  She cast a glance up through her lashes and ran her tongue along her lips in preparation. He was looking down at her, but in the shadows his mood was a mystery. He didn’t touch her or force himself into her mouth. He waited for her move.

  With her eyes still upturned, she opened her mouth and pulled him inside. His head dropped to rest against the door
between his arms as if he’d collapse without the support. She wrapped one hand around the base of his erection and one around his thigh.

  It felt dirty and a little seedy to be on her knees in the garage doing what she was doing to a man she thought she’d hated a few short weeks ago. Yet, it was a turn-on for all the same reasons. Even though she was the one on her knees, power and confidence emboldened her.

  With every stroke of her mouth, she took him deeper. His hips started a counterthrust, and she moaned around him.

  “I’m going to lose it, babe.” His voice was low and growly and bordered on animalistic.

  His warning made her suck harder and faster. With a roar, he pushed her off of him and leaned more fully onto the door, shuddering. He banged his head once against the door. “Damn.”

  Was that a Damn, what have I done? or a Damn, that was awesome! She rotated her jaw and wiggled out from between his hips and the door. The awkwardness of the aftermath rushed through her. Escape was not an option, considering he was still face-planted against the door.

  “That was … that was…” His voice rumbled then stalled.

  “Can we go with ‘incredible’?”

  “Not even close.”

  “Obviously, you enjoyed yourself.” She forced an indifference she couldn’t find locate into her voice and gestured to the stark evidence on the door.

  “Massive understatement.” He pushed himself upright, blew out a relieved-sounding breath, and used the nearest shop towel to clean up the mess.

  “I would have”—she gestured toward his crotch—“you know, finished you.”

  “Would you have?” His voice had evened from the raw, sexual heat of his climax. He pulled up his pants and refastened them.

  Was he disgusted by her aggressiveness? Was dinner a no-go now she’d given him what he was after? She shifted on her feet, the ebb of her confidence leaving her stomach in knots.

  He opened the door, and she stumbled outside ahead of him. Purple clouds snuffed out the sunset. An electric feel in the air and the smell of rain portended a spring storm. A burst of wind whipped her hair out of the messy bun and around her face.