by LuAnn McLane
Jessica found herself pushed back against the kitchen wall, kissing Ty like she had been pouring rain all this time instead of having years of drought. When she wrapped her arms around his neck, he slid his hands beneath her butt and lifted her up. With a groan, she hooked her legs around his waist, shamelessly clinging to him like kudzu on a tall oak. He kissed her deeply, endlessly, and held her up as if she were weightless. With a soft moan, she threaded her fingers through his hair, pressing her soft breasts into his hard chest. He smelled amazing, and she simply couldn’t get enough.
Jessica suddenly felt as if she were floating, and realized he was carrying her through his condo. Thank God for small favors, because she most likely would have had difficulty walking. Guessing his destination, she knew she should protest at least a little, but Jessica couldn’t bring herself to pull her mouth from his.
When he halted and finally ended the knock-you-naked kiss, Jessica raised her heavy eyelids and peered over his shoulder. Light spilled out from a half-open door to the bathroom, casting a soft glow in the spacious, nicely appointed room. A paddle fan suspended from a vaulted ceiling swung in lazy circles above a massive bed. Gulp.
Oh, boy.
His heated gaze met hers in silent question.
“Um . . .” Jessica’s heart pounded, and uncertainty reared its ugly head.
“No pressure. We’ll take this only as far as you want to. Okay?” His voice was a low, sexy rumble.
“Yes.” Oh, she knew how far she wanted to take this, all right. She wanted to jump the man’s bones! Jessica swallowed, nodded as she tried to control her breathing. Asking for a paper bag to control hyperventilating might spoil the mood . . .
He set her gently on her feet but kept his arms around her. “Hey, let me ease some tension,” he coaxed while rubbing her shoulders with long, strong fingers. His mouth found the tender, sensitive spot just beneath her earlobe and he showered her with warm, soft kisses, sending a hot tingle down her spine. Her head tilted sideways, feeling too heavy for her neck, giving him better access to wherever he wanted to kiss. He unbuttoned a few buttons and eased her blouse over one shoulder and then continued his sensual trail of kisses on her bare skin. “Just relax.”
“Easy for you to say, Mr. Stud Muffin.”
He chuckled, but then tilted her head to look at her with serious eyes. “Most of that was hype, Jessica. You and I are on a totally different level that doesn’t even begin to compare. I’m not taking this lightly.”
“I believe you,” she replied, and then, making her decision, she reached back and tugged the band from her ponytail.
“Oh . . . wow.” He threaded his fingers through her hair. “It feels even better than I imagined.”
“You think about me?”
“All the time.” He looked up at the ceiling and then back down. “Noah gets ticked off at me when I drift off into Jessica-land. I let him believe I’m thinking about the team roster.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and gazed at her thoughtfully. “But it’s always about you.” He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. “And I love hanging out at the diner. I feel as if I’ve gotten to know you over the past year. Coming to see you is the highlight of my day.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. And I hope you feel the same way.”
Jessica recognized truth in the depths of his brown eyes and was so moved by his admission that words once again failed her. The fact that she was always on Ty’s mind sent a thrill coursing through her body. Could this really be happening to her? Love? Her heart pounded, but then an unexpected, sharp stab of fear sliced through her joy. Love equals pain. Run like the wind.
“I’m sorry.” After a quick intake of breath, Ty dropped his hand. “I’m pushing, telling you too much, going too damned fast. What the hell am I thinking? Assuring you I’m not a player, and then I carry you into my bedroom. No wonder you’re looking at me like you want an escape hatch. Wow, talk about sucking . . .” he said, but when he started to turn away, Jessica gave him a swift shove, knocking him onto the bed. He fell so hard that he bounced. “Hey, I said I was sorry,” he protested, but when he made a move to get up, Jessica shook her head, giving him pause. “I guess I deserved that.”
“Yes, I’m pissed at you. And!” She tapped her chest so hard that there would surely be bruises. “At my chickenshit self!” She closed her eyes and blew out an exasperated breath. “Oh, boy.”
“Talk to me, Jessica.”
She opened her eyes and looked at him for a thoughtful moment. “My parents disowned me when I was a scared, lost teenager. My boyfriend deserted me in my time of need. From that point on, I vowed never to need anyone. Ever. So I devoted myself to raising my daughter. Furthering my career. End of story.”
“You deserve so much more than that.”
“Really?” She inhaled a deep breath. “I was doing just fine! And then you had to come along and make me feel . . . Want. God, need things that I thought were long buried.”
“Interesting choice of words.”
She looked down at him accusingly. She wanted to smack him. Kiss him. And then smack him again. “Wait. What?” She angled her head in question.
“Buried?” He came up to his elbows. “Yeah, feelings that were buried alive and wanting to get out. You can be pissed at me all you damned well please, but you know what? I take it back. I’m not sorry. You needed to be pushed. Prodded. And as for going too fast? Damn, I let you push me away for nearly a year. Screw that noise. I’ve waited long enough.”
“Really, now?” she sputtered, not even knowing what she meant. She glared at him, wanting to run, but felt as if her feet had developed roots. Wow, he has a great chest, she thought in spite of her anger. Wide shoulders . . . “Oh, stop!” she muttered out loud.
“No!” He pushed up to a sitting position, making muscles ripple and bulge. “And you don’t own fear, Jessica.”
She looked at him expectantly. He appeared so big and strong and sure of himself. This was a man who played baseball in front of sold-out stadiums. “What are you afraid of, Ty?” she asked softly.
“Hurting someone.” His gaze flicked away. “You want to know why you never saw me with the same woman twice?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. He ran impatient fingers through his hair and said, “Because I didn’t want to crush a woman the way my cheating-ass father did to my loving, loyal mother. Yeah, he was a major-league baseball player, but also a major-league asshat. All my friends treated him like a damned hero and thought I was the luckiest kid alive to have a superstar baseball player for a father.” He snorted. “I was afraid I had those same genes and would follow in his footsteps.”
“Oh, Ty.”
“I used to hear her cry at night, Jessica.” He closed his eyes as if trying to erase the memory, and then sighed. “Look, there are some really great guys in baseball, but I also saw a lot of ballplayers cheat on their wives. I didn’t want to be one of them. So I never stayed with a woman long enough to let her care about me. That’s my fear.”
She swallowed hard.
“So when does it end, Jessica? Isn’t it about time to quit letting the mistakes of others rule our own lives? Damn, I look at Olivia and Noah, see their happiness, and I want that. Don’t you?”
She thought of the Modern Bride magazine and felt emotion well up in her throat, but refused to answer.
“At least give yourself the chance. Give me the chance. That’s all I’m asking.”
Jessica gazed down at the gorgeous man looking imploringly up at her. “I must be crazy.”
“To give me a shot?”
“No.” She took a quick step closer to the bed. “Not to.”
It seemed to take a moment for her answer to sink in, and when it did, he smiled slowly. “Now you’re talking.” He arched one eyebrow. “After all, you’re not getting any younger.”
“Gee, thanks.” Jessica gave his shoulders another quick shove, sending him tumbling backward, but when he made a move to get
up, she pointed a finger at him. “Don’t move a muscle.”
“Why? Just what are you planning on doing?” he asked with a hint of suggestion.
“I . . .”
You can do this.
“I’m waiting.” He looked at her with challenge in his eyes.
“Well, for starters”—Jessica put her hands on her hips and raised her chin a notch—“I plan on taking you up on your generous offer to let me have my way with you.”
“It was rather gracious of me, wasn’t it?” His mouth twitched as if suppressing a smile. “I am such a nice guy. I’ll keep my hands to myself and let you explore to your heart’s content. I’m all yours. Have at it.” He leaned back on his elbows in silent invitation.
“Okay,” Jessica said in the same matter-of-fact tone, but then stood rooted to the spot. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and wondered just where to begin. What have I just gotten myself into?
“Come here,” he urged softly, and patted the bed.
“What am I doing? This is crazy.”
“I know.” He grinned. “But fun.”
“Fun?” She murmured the word with a sense of wonder.
“Yeah . . . fun. Not work. Not worry. Just plain, good, old-fashioned fun. Are you up for it?”
“Apparently you are,” she quipped with a grin of her own.
Ty glanced down and then cocked one eyebrow. “I won’t even try to deny it.”
Jessica tossed her head back and laughed. Really laughed with sheer joy, and, God, it felt good. This is fun, she thought, and just then something shifted inside her. A weight that she didn’t even know she had been carrying suddenly lifted, leaving her feeling light and free to simply enjoy the amazing, handsome man just waiting for her touch.
Happy birthday to me. . . .
Jessica shook her head, thinking that life could be really crazy at times. Who would have ever thought that she would be climbing into bed with Tyler McKenna?
“Please don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts. Damn, Jessica, you’re hurting my ego.”
“Good! Your inflated ego needs to be popped!”
“Get over here. Or I might just have to break my own rule and grab you.”
“Really, now? Well, maybe I’ll just have to tie you to the bedpost.” As soon as she said it, she clamped a hand to her forehead and her eyes widened. “Sorry—must still be the bourbon talking.”
Ty shrugged. “Do it if you want to. I don’t mind being at your mercy.”
“Really?” Her heart thudded at the erotic image that skittered through her brain. Oh. Dear. God.
“Sure.” He angled his head toward a walk-in closet. “You can look around in there. Use a necktie or something?”
“Okay.” With an eager smile, she turned on her heel. She couldn’t really wrap her brain around the fact that she was going to tie him to the bedpost, but doing something so out of character, so daring, gave her such a heady sense of exhilarated freedom that she decided to just do it.
Lordy, lordy . . . she’d gone crazy at forty!
Jessica put a hand to her mouth as she looked around the neat and tidy closet and found the tie rack. With shaking fingers she picked up an orange one (did he really wear that?) and a blue one, swallowed hard, and then hurried back into the bedroom before the bourbon buzz faded and her good sense returned.
10
The Hangover
Bella inhaled a deep breath and snuggled closer to the warm body next to her. “Mmm, David,” she purred, thinking it felt so nice to be in his arms. Maybe that whole jobless, homeless, getting-cheated-on thing was just a nightmare. She’d wake up to everything being normal. With that in mind, she placed a possessive hand on David’s chest and rubbed leisurely back and forth. Wait . . . she stopped caressing when she encountered smooth skin instead of crisp hair. Bella refused to open her eyes, hoping that David had finally shaved his chest. Interesting, she thought, and then trailed her fingers over his warm skin, but instead of a wiry, lanky build, Bella’s fingers found sculpted muscle.
Oh, boy . . .
She opened her eyes a mere slit and witnessed a strong jaw covered in golden stubble rather than black.
Bella winced. Oh, please . . . don’t tell me. Swallowing hard, she raised her gaze to shaggy blond hair. Yep, Logan Lannigan. She swallowed again and tried to recall the events from Jessica’s birthday party, but it was fuzzy. Had she really gotten that hammered? She didn’t feel all that hungover. Think! Okay, she remembered dancing. Laughter. Jell-O shots! Wait, did she sing karaoke to the Dixie Chicks’ “Goodbye Earl” with Madison and Aunt Myra? Um . . . yes. She remembered walking from Sully’s back to Madison’s condo—no, wait. She rode piggyback with her legs wrapped around Logan, after she had complained that her high heels hurt her feet! It was like a blurry movie running through her head, but the one burning question remained: Did she have sex with the man lying next to her? She had no blurry memory of that.
Sunlight sliced through a gap in the drapes, and she dearly longed to raise her head and get her bearings, but she didn’t want to wake Logan. His chest rose and fell beneath her palm. Good. He is sound asleep. Maybe she could slip silently from the bed and sneak out of . . . good God, where exactly was she? Holding her breath, she oh so slowly started to slide her hand away from his warm skin, but just when she smelled success, he reached up and trapped her hand against his chest.
“Mornin’, sunshine.” He opened his sky-blue eyes and gave her a crooked grin. “Just where are you sneakin’ off to?”
“I . . . uh.”
He reached over to a bottle of water on the nightstand and came up to one elbow to take a swig before offering it to her. “Thirsty?”
“Yes, thanks,” Bella replied uncertainly. She rose and took a grateful swig and then handed it back to him. He guzzled the rest, and when he twisted and leaned to put the bottle back on the nightstand, the sheet slipped below his waist. She swallowed and tried to sneak a peek to see if he was naked, and caught a glimpse of a very nice ass. Apparently, he was sleeping in the buff. Not good news for her no-sex theory.
Bella looked down and realized she was in his Cougars shirt. Oh . . . snap. “Um, I have a tiny question.” She pressed her lips together and held her finger and thumb an inch apart.
“Okay.” Logan came up to his elbows with a delicious show of rippled muscle. Surely she would remember having sex with that gorgeous body. “Shoot.”
Did we sleep together? The question remained on the tip of her tongue. “Where, um, are we?”
He arched a tawny eyebrow. “Your condo.”
“M-my condo?”
“Well, our condo.”
Her heart pounded like a jackhammer. Was Cricket Creek one of those little towns where you could get married in a tacky little chapel with a blinking neon heart? “Oh, right,” she said, trying to play it cool even though a bead of sweat rolled between her shoulder blades. She licked her lips and then said casually, “Nice that it’s furnished, huh?”
“I know, and with high-end stuff. I’m used to GW.”
“GW?”
“Goodwill. But, damn, there’s even a flat-screen TV in the joint.” He nodded his shaggy head happily and had the nerve to look sexy as hell, all sleep rumpled and . . . naked. “Yeah, all we have to do is keep it tidy so Madison can show it.”
His little nugget of information triggered a memory, and she all but snapped her fingers. “Oh, it’s nice that Madison snagged the job showing the model unit, since she doesn’t start teaching until the fall semester.” She smiled, so proud of her sudden recollection. “And we ate birthday cake back at her condo!” She blurted this random memory without sliding it into the topic of conversation. “With Madison and Jason.” If she could remember that tiny detail, surely she would remember getting married. And having sex. She looked at his golden, tanned chest. Especially the sex.
He grinned and then casually scratched his chest. “Just how much of last night do you remember, Bella?”
&nb
sp; “Everything,” she scoffed. “I don’t even feel that hungover.”
“You bitched and moaned, but I insisted that you hydrate. Luckily, our fridge was stocked with bottled water. Hydration is the key to not feeling like shit the next day.”
Our fridge sent a little slice of uh-oh through her brain. “Sounds like you’ve been there before.”
“Yep, a time or two.” He grinned. “You can thank me now or you can thank me later.” He arched an annoyingly knowing eyebrow. “So, you remember everything, huh?”
“Absolutely.” The memory had to be there somewhere. She just had to get her brain to function, and she was sure last night would all come flooding back . . . unless her brain was taking pity and shoving some shocking event from her mind. Like getting married, for example.
“Really?” He leaned in and ran a fingertip over her bottom lip. She tried not to be affected by his touch, but a shiver of awareness ran down her spine. “Everything?” He drew out the word suggestively.
“Okay, some things.” He was really starting to annoy her. “Maybe other things weren’t so memorable.”
“Is that right?” He looked at her mouth for a long, hot moment.
“Oh yeah.” She nodded slowly. “I don’t care how many Jell-O shots I sucked from those little plastic cups. If we had”—she almost said made love, but stopped herself—“done the deed last night?”
“Yeah?”
“I would have remembered.”
His lopsided grin turned into a full-blown smile that flashed straight white teeth against his golden tan. “Bella Diamante, I do believe I am going to thoroughly enjoy living with you.”
“Um.” Her eyes widened. “About that. We’re not”—she stopped and pressed her lips together. Married just would not come out of her mouth—“uh, hitched, are we?”
“Hitched? You mean, like, married?”
She gave him a jerky nod and looked up at him wide-eyed.
* * *
“Baby, there isn’t enough alcohol in the universe that would get me to tie the knot.” The image of his mother and father screaming at each other filtered into his brain and he had to suppress a shudder. “The only diamond I’ll ever care about is on the baseball field,” he added.
