by Cari Quinn
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t say that exactly, but I do know how to shop thanks to them. Monica is a terrible driver, so she kept me in gas money if I’d drive her places.”
“That sounds nice.”
He played with the tips of my fingers. His hands were nearly double the size of mine. Intriguing little calluses tickled the pads of my fingers. I tried not to tense up, but every stroke drove me just a little bit more insane.
And I couldn’t figure out what was going on in his mind since he was wearing his aviators. They were sexy and sinful in ways that eyewear shouldn’t be. They were just sunglasses, for God’s sake.
He laced our fingers once more. “You never went to the mall with my sister.”
Why were we talking about his sister? Oh, right. Driving. I couldn’t even think with him touching me like that. “I’m an only child. My dad taught me to drive when I was fourteen. Mostly so he could make me back up and park cars for him when need be.”
He leaned back into his seat and took on that lazy sprawl that I wished I could do. If I did that, I’d look like a sullen teenager. Hudson? Lazy lion that might devour me.
That scared the crap out of me, and thrilled me way more than was safe. I didn’t even realize I still had any lusty thoughts firing inside me.
“Fourteen? That’s even younger than I was.”
Pay attention, Piper. I took a quick drink from my water glass. “Small town. And the sheriff was my uncle. Well, not really my uncle but my dad’s best friend, so you know, almost my uncle.”
His lips twitched. “Is that right? So you were a lawbreaker from the start, huh?”
“Me? Well, I don’t know about that. Law bender, how’s that?”
“Bending is good.”
My belly flipped. I couldn’t be positive, but I wasn’t sure we were talking about laws anymore. Was this flirting? I seriously sucked at it. I felt the babble coming, and the words kept tripping out of my mouth. I really couldn’t stop them. “I learned how to drive a stick shift on a huge truck. I almost got my CDL license, but the thought of being behind the wheel of a big rig scared the crap out of my dad. Cars were one thing. An eighteen-wheeler? Yeah, not so much. He taught me how to build stuff instead.”
Hudson finally took off his sunglasses and tossed them on the table. “Not a bad trade.”
“No.” Maybe the sunglasses were a better idea. His eyes were too direct, and way too pretty. The amber glasses were way safer. I glanced down at my place setting and moved the red plate to the exact center of the yellow one. “I remodeled the entire building, starting with the cafe. The building had been nearly condemned when I bought it. Then when Levi came on board, I helped build the bakery.” I laughed. “He’s pretty useless with tools unless they include a torch for a crème brûlée or one of his sugar sculptures.”
“I see.”
I looked up at the tone of his voice. “What?”
“Is there something up with Levi? You wouldn’t be using me as a guinea pig, would you?’
“What?” My eyebrows snapped down. “No, of course not.” I tried to pull back from him.
He leaned forward and brought our tangled fingers to his lips. A moment before he touched my hand, he flipped my wrist up and nipped at the veins along the underside. “You answered that a little too quickly.”
My eyes widened. Okay, at first the thought of learning a little about flirting and using my newfound knowledge on Levi had been a flicker of an idea. Nothing of substance.
“You’re thinking too hard again.”
I snatched my hand away. “You are taking everything out of context.”
The waitress came back with a basket of a bread and two cruets. The yeasty scent mixed with the sharp tang of balsamic vinegar made my mouth water. And also gave me a moment to recover.
I hadn’t had time to eat today—at least more than a half muffin—so I was starving. And it was much easier to focus on that than the intense reaction he’d had about my ulterior motives for learning how to deal with the opposite sex.
Maybe at first Levi had been part of the reason, but now? Levi was the furthest thing from my mind.
It was difficult to focus on anything other than Hudson Wyatt.
A dangerous game that part of me wanted to run away from, but there was a small piece inside me that wanted to step forward and see if there was anything there besides my own fascination.
“Thank you, Maria,” he said roughly.
“Sure thing. Have you decided what you want for dinner?”
I reached for the slim menu stacked behind the mismatched salt and pepper set on our table. A rooster and tiny pig made me smile. High end crystal, Fiestaware, and then something found at a craft or tag sale.
I was charmed enough to calm down. A little.
“Why don’t you tell Magda to make us something special?” He glanced at me. “Does that suit you?”
The question helped mitigate his high-handed tone. My hand slid back onto my lap. “Yes.”
“Is there anything you’re allergic to?” Maria asked me.
“No. I pretty much eat everything.” As my hips would attest.
She didn’t bother asking Hudson. Figured. She probably knew his taste.
He was already breaking apart the crusty bread and set a few rough pieces on my plate before doing the same for himself.
Maria reached for the cruet, but Hudson shook his head. “We’re okay, thanks.”
“Right.” The waitress smoothed her hand down her slim, yet curvaceous hip. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
He gave her his blinding smile and my chest tightened as well as…other things. I’d never actually clenched for anyone before. Disconcerted, I tried to cover it up by shoving a hunk of bread in my mouth. I couldn’t quite contain the moan at the perfection.
Maria gave me a sharp look and a slight frown.
I lifted the back of my hand to my mouth as I chewed. “Sorry. So good.”
“I wouldn’t know. I don’t eat carbs.” She turned on her heel and left.
Of course, she didn’t. Why her ass looked like that and mine looked like mine, but I would take the bread any day.
“I like a woman with an appetite.”
I couldn’t quite contain my grin. I finished chewing. “Well, you’ll be a happy boy tonight.”
He poured olive oil onto a small plate with a flourish then dropped balsamic vinegar into the pool of Tuscan-infused oil. It smelled divine. “I hope so.” He took a small hunk of bread off his plate and dipped it in the concoction, then lifted it to my mouth. When I just sat there, his grin widened. “The fine art of flirtation includes food.”
I licked my lips. “Right.” I wasn’t quite sure what to do, but I leaned forward and opened my mouth.
His eyes darkened and his lids lowered slightly when I closed my lips over the tips of his fingers.
I closed my eyes at the flavor and let out a low moan.
“I don’t think you need lessons here.”
I brought my napkin up to catch the little drop of oil as I chewed. “What do you mean?”
“You can’t be that innocent.” He snapped out his napkin and lay it over his lap.
“Oh. It’s just food,” I said after I swallowed.
He dipped another piece and popped it into his mouth. “If you believe that, then we have way more work to do than I thought.”
I sat up straighter. “So now you see why I should be a project?”
He lifted his glass of water and emptied it. “I’m not sure I’ll live through it.”
“Why not?”
“Never mind.”
Frustration tightened my shoulders. “No, explain, please.”
“Look, Piper, I find you very attractive.”
“But…” I knew there was a but there. And why did it suddenly piss me off that he was finally using my first name?
“No but. If you were any other woman, I’d show you one helluva night and that would be that.”
“B
ut now you won’t?” I crossed my arms over my stomach. It wasn’t surprising. Hudson Wyatt wasn’t exactly in my league, but I’d thought he was intrigued enough to at least have a little fun.
When I realized I was hunching into myself, I sat up again and dabbed at my lips with my napkin before placing it gently on my plate. “Then that’s fine. You can enjoy your meal. I’ll find my own way home.” I pushed back my seat.
“That is not what I was saying.” He used his extraordinary height and freakishly long arms to grab my chair and drag me back to the table with only a modicum of movement.
“Oh, really? Then what are you saying? It’s not like I’m that different from other women. I have all the same parts, for God’s sake. I even do yoga. Well, sometimes. Okay, so it’s been awhile, but I’ve done it.”
“Piper, shut up.”
I snapped my molars together.
“You’re different for a number of reasons, but the first is that you’re Callie’s. And I don’t mess with friendships like that.”
“Oh.” I pushed my hair out of my face. Okay, no. That still didn’t make sense. “No, I don’t get it.”
“You’re not some random chick.”
“Well, thank goodness for that. I wouldn’t want to be a regular chick.”
“Don’t be snide.”
“How else am I supposed to be when you’re obviously only telling me half of whatever is going on in your stupid brain?”
He barked out a laugh. “Oh, kitten. I don’t know what to do with you.”
I didn’t realize just how much I’d tensed up until he called me kitten. I didn’t like it, dammit, and yet…
Hudson stood.
I pushed my chair back. “Are we leaving?”
“No. We’re going to get ourselves situated in a nonverbal way. Obviously, our wires are crossed. Now I see why you’re so adamant about figuring out how to talk to guys.”
I frowned up at him. “What other way is there?”
“We’re going to dance.”
“What?”
He eased out my chair the rest of the way and took my hand. “Dance,” he repeated.
“I heard you the first time, but what makes you—” I broke off and followed his gaze to the courtyard.
While we’d been arguing, the main patio had been cleared and a man with a Spanish guitar was softly playing on a bench at the far side of the restaurant. A few couples were swaying together under the pergola. The sun was slowly making its descent and the first of the stars were dotting the sky. The twinkle lights were doing a decent job of mimicking the pretty sky while the cooling night seemed to intensify the scent of the blooms.
Romantic.
Instead of getting all mushy and misty, I had the strangest urge to head back to the car and gun it for home. Okay, so my legs were way shorter than Hudson’s and he had the keys, but surely I could figure out something.
Somehow I ended up weaving around full tables, trailing behind a man who was far too intriguing for his own good.
When he twirled me around and out like I was Baby from Dirty Dancing, I knew I was done for. Even my shaky dancing skills were no match for the smooth, effortless way he moved. While some men who were well above six feet tall were less than graceful, the same could not be said about one Hudson Wyatt.
He pulled me close, his fingers still tangling with mine even on the dance floor. His arm was long enough to curl around me so that his fingertips brushed along the front of my midriff. The slinky material had felt so good earlier. Now it just seemed heavy and hot.
His body was a damn furnace, but I found myself closing the gap between us. He acted incredibly familiar with my body. Nothing that would warrant me pushing him back, but I'd definitely never felt this easy with a man in my life.
Even the few I’d chosen to get naked with.
Awkward and mildly pleasurable had been the sum total of my sexual experiences. Actually, even my dating experiences beyond the clothing-optional situations.
“Stop stiffening up, kitten. I’m going to get a complex that you don’t like me touching you.”
“No, I like it,” I blurted out.
He pulled away enough to get a good look at me. It was a damn long way down since he was a full foot taller than me. Why did I think any of this was going to work? I’d had to climb on a chair to get him to kiss me the first time.
What makes you think you’re getting a second?
Oh, wait. I’d tried a second one. Also a spectacular failure. Pretty sure I’d almost given myself a fat lip with our near miss of a teeth smash.
“Thinking again.”
“One tends to think when one has a brain. Are you used to women without one?”
He twirled me out and back. “Low blow. I’ll have you know I don’t date vapid women.”
My stomach fluttered as I collided with his very hard chest. Especially when he didn’t let me stumble. He immediately held me closer and course-corrected for my stupid feet. I tried to find even ground, both on the tile and when it came to my tilt-a-whirl reaction to having this man touch me.
I’d wanted this. At least I’d thought I did.
Now, I wasn’t sure what was more prudent. Living in my little lonely world where my closest companions were felines and a mind full of crazy cat building schemes? Or taking a chance on something that could quite literally change my life. Even if it was only for a little while.
And might leave me far lonelier in the process.
“Maybe lesson one should be getting you out of your head and in touch with what’s going on here.”
His voice was a rumble against my cheek. I peered up at him. “Right now?”
“Between us right now.”
“And what would that be?”
“I’m not quite sure to be honest.”
The admission loosened some of the tension living inside my shoulders. “Maybe we could start lesson one in a place a little more private?”
The light was low, but there was no mistaking the way his eyes darkened. And the thrill that arced between us. He drew me off the dance floor and back to our table. Instead of food waiting for us, there were two white bags and a bottle of wine.
Hudson lifted the card dangling from the handles of the bag and grinned. “Magda doesn’t miss anything.”
“What does it say?” I tried to peek around his mountain of shoulders, but he’d already tucked the card away into the bag.
“Thought we might want our meal to go.”
“I’m thinking it says more than that.”
“It’s the salient point.”
Nerves replaced excitement. At least there was wine. Not that I drank it often, but I had a feeling I would need all the adult grape juice I could get tonight.
He tucked the bottle under his arm and took the bags in one hand. With his other, he twined our fingers together once more. “Let the lesson begin, kitten.”
7
Wyatt
Holding her on the dance floor had been a mistake. I’d tried to cover it up with a few glib comments and some fancy dance steps. My mother had used me as a guinea pig when she’d been addicted to the dancing shows. Being as tall as most grown men at the age of fourteen, I’d been a perfect target. Later in life, I’d been grateful for the dance lessons.
They had elevated my gangly-never-going-to-have-game teen self to a new level. Probably why I’d lost my virginity at fifteen as well. Once I knew how to find rhythm upright, it certainly helped in a host of other situations.
Add in the fact that I usually knew which moves to use and when to use them in nearly any situation, I was at a loss to why this woman was so very different. It should be easy to fall into a game of teacher and student. I was no stranger to games with women.
Especially when everyone knew the rules.
Piper had nearly clobbered me with her no-strings rule book. I should have been sprinting to get her very delectable ass into my bed. Instead she was sitting beside me in my car and the air was full of tension a
gain.
None of this made sense. I was the king of small talk and making a woman feel comfortable. Between racing and the rockstar life, I was constantly thrown into situations where I needed to put people at ease.
Piper had left me off balance since the moment we’d met. I couldn’t remember the last time anything had shaken me up. A smoking car and a career-ending searing pain in my thigh was probably the last time. I flexed the old injury and pushed back the memories.
I didn’t need those ghosts following me around tonight. I glanced away from the road to the woman in my car. The lights from the dash emphasized her high cheekbones and her heart-shaped face. She was worrying her lower lip and twisting her fingers together in her lap.
I reached over and took her hand, bringing her wrist up to my lips. Her pulse was fluttering madly and her breath caught as I nipped at the fragile skin between the bracelets she wore. Her scent was trapped in the strings and various metals of her jewelry. The earthy aroma of coffee and lemons and the undefinable Piper.
“So this touch thing. When does the lesson end?”
“When you stop flinching when I touch you.”
“I don’t flinch.”
“You don’t welcome it. If I didn’t see the way your eyes changed when I touch you, I’d assume you weren’t interested. Mixed signals are never good for guys. We’re direct. A lot like you are usually.”
“Yeah, well, there’s a reason I’m asking for help.”
“You know this, Piper. I refuse to think you are helpless in this regard. You read body language in a dozen felines as well as the people that come into your cafe.”
“It’s different.”
“It’s not. If a cat was reacting like you, what would you think?”
She got quiet, then her fingertips curled against my face. She lightly dragged the pads along the bristles of my beard. I’d shaved the night before, so there was a bit of auburn scruff coming in.
“I’d do this to coax him or her closer for a long stroke.”
I swallowed, thankful for the cover of night. The idea of her stroking anything on me was going to push me further into this process than she was ready for. I wasn’t a saint. No part of me would say no tonight.
