She stared at him, not realizing the question would have such an impact. “I was just curious. Sheez. Kill us, why don’t ya.” Composure regained, she fanned her face fighting the adrenaline rush from her near death experience. “I thought we were going over.”
He cocked an eyebrow up and lowered the volume on the radio. “You thinking about seducing someone?” He seemed more disturbed by her question than the threat of death.
Content with having his attention again, her fingers drummed against her thigh in beat with the tune. “Maybe.” She felt daring and flirting with him was addictive. But after several intense seconds of him staring at her, she threw up her hands. “What? Why are you staring at me?”
Silently, he pulled back onto the road. “For someone like me, no. Seduction isn’t hard at all.” He turned into the parking lot of the mini mart and met her with a look that could melt steel. “But you’ve got a lot to learn, little Eleanor.”
The “little” in that sentence pissed her off. When he opened the door and got out, she scooted to the driver seat and glared at him as he dug in the back for the gas can. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’ve grown up.”
“I’ve noticed.” There was a meaning in his voice that sent a shiver up her spine. Had he really noticed?
After paying for the gas, he secured the can in the truck bed and came back to the door. “Are you trying to rope this guy into a ring?” His question seemed oddly out of place.
“God, no!” she protested. “Why would you ask such a question?”
“Scoot,” he ordered her to the passenger side and climbed in. “I’m just asking. Some women are like that.” He slammed the door and started the truck. “I thought you might be looking for a way to rebuild Redemption.”
“I plan on rebuilding Redemption by myself,” she clarified, feeling offended he thought she was that kind of woman. “And I know a lot about sex. I’ve read all about it. I don’t think seduction would be hard for me to master.”
His laughter filled the cab as they pulled out onto the road. “You and Lou still reading those smutty books?”
“They are not smut!” she snapped. This was not going as planned. Maybe she should have gotten a real date for tonight. “They’re romance.”
“They’re smut,” he repeated. “Besides, you’ve read every cookbook my mother has,” the daring mien of his eyes excited her, “and you can’t boil water.”
“I can so!” She scowled at him and felt a part of her courage slip away. “You’re an ass, McCrea.”
There were those glittered gold specks dancing away in his eyes when he winked at her. “Oh, don’t get mad at me. I’m just making a point.”
She crossed her arms over her breasts. “And that is?”
“Sex isn’t like cooking. There’s no recipe to follow. No directions. You could read a hundred books and not know what the hell you’re doing.”
Score one for McCrea. “Forget I asked.”
He shifted lower in the seat and lifted his hips as if he were uncomfortable. “How well do you know this guy you want to seduce?”
“Well enough.”
“Seduction can be a dangerous game for someone like you, Eleanor.”
Her back stiffened. “Why?”
“There’s no delicate way to put it.”
She twisted in her seat to face him. “So don’t be delicate. Spill it.”
When his eyes met hers, there wasn’t one ounce of flirtatious fun in them. “You’re a virgin, and if you try to seduce some of the young studs around here, there’s a good chance you could get hurt.”
“A virgin,” she repeated and felt the sting of truth penetrate her core. “That was blunt.”
“You asked.” He looked forward as he explained. “Taking a woman’s virginity is very arousing for a man, and dangerous for the woman if the man doesn’t know how to control himself.”
“I don’t understand that at all. What’s so special about taking a woman’s virginity?”
He switched the AC on high and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. Was he sweating? “In the old days it was a way for a man to claim his woman. It’s all through history.”
She could see her truck as they rounded the curve. Damn. The quick trip was wasted.
“Well, chalk one up for the modern age. People have casual sex all the time and men don’t,” she made quotation marks with her fingers, claim their women.”
“Sure we do.” He guided the truck off the road and braked a few feet away from hers. “And not all men believe sex should be casual. I don’t.”
A hard breath could have blown her over. “What?”
Her shocked reaction drew a smirk to his lips. “You don’t believe me?”
Did she? “I-I…It’s just,” her words fell short of a sentence. “What about all the women you’ve dated?”
“All the women I’ve dated?” His question was made with a slight shake of his head. “There aren’t that many, regardless of the rumors.” The vein at his temple doubled in size when he paused to drape an arm over the steering wheel. His jaw tightened, then relaxed. “I don’t screw everything with a vagina, and I am faithful when I’m in a relationship.”
Faithful? Did he really just use that word? “But, from what I hear, you’re with a different woman every night.”
“Hell, Eleanor this town doesn’t have that many women in it. I’d have to drive all the way to Austin or Dallas, to meet that quota.” He did have a point. Santa Camino had a slim supply of women in it- eligible or not. “That’s just small town gossip. I used to think it was funny.” He shoved the truck into park and got out, pausing at the door. “Now, it just pisses me off.”
The hard slam made her bolt from her seat and sent her racing to the back of the truck in pursuit of answers. “How many relationships have you had?”
After he loosened the bungee strap around the gas can, he lifted it and walked around her without answering the question. He unscrewed the gas cap, inserted the nozzle into the tank, and lifted the can until it made a guzzling sound. When the can was empty, he twisted the cap in place and closed the lid, then walked to the hood to find the release. The latch gave way with a pop and a chirr, allowing him to lean in.
She raised on tiptoes and joined him inside the foreign land of grease and oil. “Ouch!” The rusty, sunbaked body was hot against her fingers. “Why are we under the hood? I thought it was out of gas.”
He stepped back to the work truck for an empty water bottle, took out his pocket knife, and unfolded the blade. A thumb to the side of the bottle kept the blade steady as he pulled it around the top. “Older trucks have to be primed.”
It didn’t matter to her. She was just grateful the hunk of junk was giving her more time with McCrea. “Oh.”
All the men on the ranch carried a pocket knife, but none of them used it the way he did. She loved watching his hands. There was just something about them that intrigued her. Long, lean and tanned is the way she would describe them. Calloused, but soft. Strong, but gentle. Sweet lord she wanted them to touch her. She wanted to experience all the pleasures they could give, and know firsthand the love they were capable of. She was more than ready for that to happen. Years of wishing and dreaming of him was getting her nowhere, and being this close to him was torture. A delectable, tangible ache that was getting worse.
Damn. Damn. Damn. Her hand fetish had her on the verge of squirming. Boots. Boots are safe. She forced her eyes to focus on his dirty brown footwear. But boots are attached to calves, and calves to thighs. Firm thighs. With muscles and a dusting of dark hair. She cleared her throat and let her curiosity lead the way. Up. Up. Up to the rise beneath his zipper. Oh, yeah. This was a mistake.
“Get in and wait for me to tell you when to start it.” The sound of his soft order snapped her attention back to the truck.
“Yeah, sure.” She yanked the door open, climbed in, and through the slit in the hood, watched him work.
“Okay, try it now.” She pumped the
gas and twisted the ignition. After a few tries, the engine started.
He dropped the hood closed, and rubbed his hands together, wiping away gas and oil. “They say a woman always remembers her first lover.”
She squinted one eye closed against the sunlight. “Are you making another point?”
“This guy’s always going to be in your head.” He cut a coy grin as he scrubbed his left thumb. “You might want to give that some thought before you go jumping into his bed.”
Why did he make her intentions sound so vulgar? “Thanks for the advice.”
“This guy.” He rested an elbow on the side mirror. “He knows you’re a virgin, right?”
“He knows, McCrea, and I don’t need you to protect me. He’s not like Willard or any of the other guys at Tubs.” She stretched across the seat to roll the passenger window down, and a cool breeze rushed in, scattering her hair. She gathered it into a ponytail and twisted it into a crude knot at the base of her head. “I’m leaving for college in a week, and I’m afraid if I wait for him to make the first move, I might not get the chance at all. The truth is; I think I’m falling for him.”
His face drew into a deep scowl. “Does he know that?”
A sigh left her. Not one ounce of intuitiveness. “No. He’s clueless.”
His quiet study made her uncomfortable. She had seen the same consideration a few times and knew his questions were brought on by a need to protect. McCrea was looking out for her. He wasn’t worried about competition from her mystery date, or losing her to another man. So much for giving him competition. In need of a quick getaway, she pushed the brake down and pulled the truck into drive. “Look, I trust him. Plus, he’s older than me and more experienced.”
His head lifted from its downward tilt with a deep breath. “That’s what scares me.”
“Don’t look so worried. He’s like you. He’s always in control.”
“Every man has his limits, darlin’.” His eyes darkened with heavy lashes that lowered to her breast. “Even me.”
~~~
McCrea dodged the fist aimed at his nose and counter-punched the man delivering the blow. The hard knock to the man’s jaw sent him spinning around and into the bar. “Come on, Benny boy,” he grinned. “Is that all you got?”
Ben blinked to focus, but before he could charge forward, an arm clamped around McCrea’s neck and hauled him backwards. “Shit!” he said, briefly seeing the faded Semper Fi tattoo of Old Ed Tubs as he watched his favorite Stetson fly into the air.
“I’ve had enough of you two!” The bartender was strong for his age and mean when you pissed him off. And they had. He and Jess were always up for a healthy brawl, and when beers were involved, things could get ugly.
“Ed!” McCrea croaked out as he dragged him towards the door. “Ed!”
“Y’all are tearing my bar all to hell!” Ed threw him to the floor.
“We were just having fun.” He rubbed his throat and scooted against the wall to avoid being trampled by Jess and Scotty, who were brawling a few feet away.
Ed pointed a stubby finger at him. “This is the last time─ Ooph!” his threat was interrupted when a hard right from Scotty sent Jess into him. The short and stocky frame of the ex-navy seal absorbed the blow and barely moved him.
When the creases in Ed’s brow deepened, Jess said, “Oh shit.”
Ed gritted his teeth, grabbed Jess by the collar and delivered a hard, swift punch to his mouth.
Jess’s head bobbed. He blinked, dazed by the punch and fell to the floor beside McCrea.
“Damn kids,” Ed mumbled and stepped over them to break up another fight. Tubs Roadhouse was the only bar big enough or brave enough to handle tonight’s much-anticipated bachelor party for the last unmarried Langford brother, Scotty.
Jess worked his jaw from left to right and scooted back to join him along the wall. “Old Ed’s gonna kick us out for good this time.”
Ed had been Old Ed for as long as McCrea could remember, but was, in fact, a year younger than his dad. The two had gone to high school together until Ed dropped out his senior year to join the Marines. He came back years later and opened the bar. He had no family or close friends. He was a loner and seemed to like it that way. “How many times has he threatened to do that?”
“More than I can count,” Jess laughed. “But two weekends in a row ain’t good.”
“He enjoys tearing up shit as much as we do.” He closed his eyes and tried to savor the excitement he felt at this exact minute. Four years of college with only intermittent times between semesters left him missing high school and a time when life wasn’t so complicated. The days when football and women were the only things that mattered. The days when he was free to do what he wanted.
Damn it, Granddad! How could you do this to me? I don’t want a wife!
He couldn’t blame everything on his granddad. Even without Wade’s terms, he felt the weight of his families’ expectations bearing down on him. Marriage eventually happened to every man in Santa Camino. The town was steeped in tradition, and family and ranching were two of its finest. Twenty-four was too young to be tied down, but that’s what was expected, wasn’t it? He was home and expected to make something of himself. And he wanted to. He had plans. Damn it, he had plans that didn’t involve a wife!
He felt caged. He needed to punch something. He needed a release.
“Shit. I need a wife,” he mumbled to himself, and with closed eyes, let his head fall back against the wall.
“Hello, boys.”
The silky, honey dipped voice opened his eyes to a pair of slim, tanned legs, and enticed them up to one of the sweetest asses he’d ever had the pleasure to be tempted by. He hissed in a deep breath between his teeth while trying hard to clear his mind of the unchaste thoughts racing through his mind about his kid sister’s best friend. None of which had ever been as strong as they were since his granddad suggest he make her his wife.
He’d never tasted Eleanor Mackenna, but damn if he didn’t want to. Their ride into town this afternoon left him thinking about Wade’s suggestion, and suddenly it wasn’t so absurd. Maybe she was just what he needed. She was a woman with her own dreams and ambitions. She wasn’t clingy. She was smart and beautiful. Funny and everybody liked her.
Wade liked her.
A wide grin covered Jess’ face. “Hot damn! This night just keeps getting better!”
She ruffled the top of Jess’ shaggy mop. “I see Old Ed put you in your place again.” She tucked a long strand of her blonde hair behind her ear and tilted her head to the side. “You boys ‘bout done for the night?”
Her playfulness made him hard and her tongue ─ Damn. He watched it dart along the edge of her full bottom lip and felt a cord of sexual tension tighten in his body. A man could stand only so much temptation before he dove in face first, and that’s exactly what he wanted to do. Dive in.
“Hell, no,” was his answer.
“Hell, yes,” was Jess’ before he jumped to his feet. “I’d like to spend tonight doing something other than getting my ass kicked. Where’s my hat?”
McCrea pulled a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and hit the top against his palm, producing a slightly bent cigarette.
Shit.
He twisted the end of his new habit between his finger and thumb, hoping the nicotine would settle his nerves. He stuck it between his lips and stretched his legs out, preparing to enjoy. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?” He teased and dug into the front pocket of his jeans for his lighter.
She took a step closer, twisted around on one hip and folded her arms under her breasts. The action emphasizing their already ample state. “Like you said, McCrea. Things have changed since you left.”
Damn right, they had.
“I’m meeting my date here.”
He lit the cigarette and took a long draw. “Oh, yeah,” he mocked. “The guy you’ve fallen in love with.”
Sneaking up behind her, Scotty looped an arm around her waist and t
wisted her around. “Hellooo, baby.”
“Now, Scotty.” She wedged her hands against his chest and pushed. “Don’t make me tell Amy you’ve been misbehaving.”
The threat didn’t stop his drunken advances. “It could be our little secret.” He smoothed a hand over her ass only to have her smack it away.
“Damn it, Scotty, stop!”
“Oh, come on,” he jeered.
“Get your goddamn hands off of her before you get your ass kicked,” McCrea warned, knowing Scotty’s rowdiness wasn’t caused by alcohol. He was an asshole twenty-four seven, and his reputation went beyond that of a ladies’ man.
Scotty flipped him the middle finger. “Screw you, Coldiron.”
McCrea took another draw and exhaled before drawing a knee up to stand. “Fine by me.”
“Don’t, McCrea,” Eleanor cut in. “I can handle this.” But before she could react Ben snagged Scotty by the shoulder and spun him around.
“You son of a bitch!” Ben rammed his head into his stomach. “My sister trusted you!” The knock drove Scotty backward.
The scuffle knocked Eleanor backward with a “Whoa!” and into McCrea’s lap, landing her ass hard against his crotch. He winced from the pain of having his hard dick hit but recovered quickly. A soft ass could work wonders.
The fight escalated, out to the entryway and through the doors to the parking lot.
“Hoo! Wee!” Jess yelled and followed the fight outside.
McCrea grinned and took another draw from his cigarette. “Damn.” He slid a hand up her calf and across her knee. “Things have changed.”
He expected her to make a shy getaway, with blushing cheeks and downcast eyes, but she didn’t. Instead, she placed both palms on the floor behind her and leaned backward across his lap as if she were lying on the beach.
Goodnight Kisses Page 5
