When he released her head, she snatched the phone from his hand. “If I were bigger and stronger, you’d never get away with that.”
“But you’re not, which is why I can get away with this…” Squatting down, he hauled a surprised Lucy over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.
She screeched, “You’re gonna pay for this, you butthead.” Bertie and Javier clapped as he marched back to the lanes, and Wanda gave a piercing wolf whistle.
“I think I’m gonna barf.”
“That’s what you get for eating garbage.” Brogan dumped Lucy on her feet.
“My, my, sexy Bro-man, you can carry me back to your cave and have your wicked way with me,” Wanda cooed, sidling against him and batting her big brown eyes.
Lucy pulled Wanda off him. “Go find your own caveman. Russell’s at the bar drinking beer. Hitch your caboose to him.”
Wanda sniffed. “Look who’s gotten all possessive and doesn’t want to share.”
“No. You’re just greedy,” Lucy said to the back of Wanda’s twitching hips.
Brogan laughed. “Come on. Let’s bowl.” He picked up another orange bowling ball and put it in her hands.
Shiny hair flopped around her shoulders as she shook her head. “I can’t bowl. The last time I tried, I was ten and had to roll the ball between my legs. It stopped dead in the middle of the lane. The bowling alley guy had to save it. After that, my dad made me sit and watch. I’ve never been so bored,” she added with a huff.
“Amuse me. Give it your best shot. I bet you bowl better than you caterwaul, er…sing.”
Lucy narrowed her exotic gray eyes. “You know, you have not shown enough remorse for embarrassing me in front of the whole town. You should be kissing my patootie…not making me angry.”
“Don’t worry, I plan to kiss your sweet ass and a whole lot more,” he rumbled next to her ear, smiling at her flushed baby-doll cheeks. “But first, you need to knock down those pins.” The psychedelic strobe lights had been switched on, and the gutters glowed electric blue. Mirrored balls twirled, and “Layla” played through the speakers. Brogan pointed her down the lane. “Just picture my face, and I bet you hit all ten.”
“You can do it, Lucy. Show ’em you’re a true ball buster,” Dottie Duncan hollered above the music. Dottie and Arlene Tomlin had snagged Javier and Brogan to be on their team, along with Lucy.
“Come on, Luce,” Bertie yelled from the next lane, doing a boogie step. “Give it your best shot.”
Lucy elbowed Brogan in the gut. “Out of my way.” She lined up, feet together, with the ball tucked below her chin. Taking three steps, she bent, and his head got dizzy from the expanse of skin her short shorts revealed. Her right arm swung back and then forward, but instead of staying low and releasing the ball, Lucy stood too quickly, and the orange ball went flying through the air.
“Fore!” Brogan shouted before the ball landed in the next lane, where it hit the floor and wobbled to the gutter.
“Whoa. That was spectacular.” Javier burst out laughing.
“Duck crap goose. Girl, you need some practice,” Dottie said.
“Grr! I told you I can’t bowl.” Lucy whirled around into Brogan’s arms as he shook with laughter. She buried her face in his chest and mumbled something that he couldn’t quite catch but sounded a lot like “candy corn niblets and kill me now.”
“Hey, that’s why you’re a ball buster.”
“Dang, Lucy…you dented the lane.”
“Lucy, I’d be happy to give you private lessons,” Dipshit Clancy shouted from two lanes over.
“That won’t be necessary. I’ve got everything under control,” Brogan yelled back, hoping hardheaded Clancy picked up on the threat in his voice. Lucy shook, still hiding her face in his T-shirt. Shit. He hadn’t meant to embarrass her again. Twice in two days. “Lucy, honey, you okay?” He tilted his head, trying to see her face. “Little Lu-Lu…?” he said softly. The trembling intensified. “Are you crying?” His arms tightened around her, and he rubbed the shirt covering her soft back.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, but before his heart froze, her lips twitched into a huge grin, and she vibrated with laughter. “I told you I sucked.” She hiccuped and laughed at the same time.
Brogan reached for some napkins on top of the scoring table. “Well, now, honey, that’s one way of putting it.” She mopped her wet face with the napkins. “Bowling probably isn’t your strong suit. But since tonight’s about fun and blowing off steam, I’d have to say, you excelled at that.”
She patted his front, trying to smooth the wrinkles. “Sorry I got your shirt all wet.”
“It’s all good.” He never knew anyone who inspired more smiles. “You wanna try again? Maybe if I helped—”
She flopped down on the U-shaped bench seats. A surge of emptiness drained his arms where he no longer held her. He was unable to describe the sensation, but void came to mind. What a difference from feeling whole, strong, and vibrant, with Lucy cradled in his arms. He gave his head a shake, warding off the weird notion before it took root.
“Nope.” Lucy picked up the pitcher of beer and poured some into a red Solo cup. “Carry on without me. I’m content to watch and sing along to the music.”
Brogan visibly winced. Lucy’s singing voice could strip paint. As he picked up his bowling ball, “Start Me Up” by the Rolling Stones poured through the speakers, and the sounds only a wounded animal could make reached his ears. Brogan shrugged at Javie’s shocked expression as they listened to Lucy singing at the top of her lungs. Brogan started to grin. Suddenly, the bowl in Rock ’n’ Bowl night was abandoned. Lucy hopped to her feet and started dancing, along with Dottie, Arlene, Wanda, and Bertie. Javier threw up his hands in surrender and joined the ladies, gyrating as they danced a circle around him. Brogan caught sight of Keith Morgan winding his way past the check-in counter, wearing tennis gear and a huge smile. Bertie shimmied over to Keith and wrapped her arms around his neck as they swayed to the music together. Russell Upton didn’t need an engraved invitation. He hurried from the bar, sloshing beer over his wrist to get to Wanda shaking her ta-tas in his direction.
Content to watch the show, Brogan folded his arms and leaned against the scoring table. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the Perry brothers weaving their way toward the dancing girls. Brogan moved to block their path when Lucy danced over and grabbed his hand, pulling him into the middle of the group. She slid her hands up his chest and around his neck. Brogan stood confused, searching her face.
“I’m not interested in Clancy Perry’s fifty ways of fun. And you still owe me.” She tipped her pert nose. “You gonna dance like a robot all night or just with me?” Rocking her hips, she swayed. Brogan needed no further encouragement. Matching his hips to hers, he gathered Lucy close. The void was filled, and his arms no longer felt empty.
* * *
Brogan’s car sat idling in her driveway. They’d left the bowling alley together over an hour ago, but Lucy still hadn’t gone inside. She’d been too busy fogging up the inside of his Jag with lots of lips and tongues and hands and heavy panting. An animalistic sound rumbled in Brogan’s chest as his rough hands gripped her butt beneath her shorts. Brogan had released the seat into a horizontal position after he’d kissed her across the console and pulled her on top of him.
Chest heaving, Lucy pushed up into a sitting position, straddling his lap and bumping the steering wheel with her back. “We have to stop.”
Lust, hunger, need, and something she couldn’t quite name colored his face. With a deep guttural moan, he said, “God no. Not yet.” He slid his hands from her bottom to beneath her shirt. Lucy stopped his progress, grabbing his wrists, pressing his palms into her stomach. Her head felt hazy, and she couldn’t believe she had the strength to put an end to the best make-out session of her entire life. Brogan took kissing to an entirely new level and then h
urled her over into a freefall of dizziness.
She sucked in a breath. “I need to get inside. Julia’s probably awake, and she’ll…” Julia would not be pleased to hear that Lucy had kissed Brogan like he was the only solid mass in a swaying, upside-down world. He made her limbs weak and sent tremors down her spine, evoking sensations she’d never experienced. Ever. “I…we…can’t—”
“Lucy.” His sleepy, sexy bedroom eyes traveled up her stomach, over the round swells of her breasts to her swollen lips. “You want to be with me.”
With every cell in her body. “We can’t. It wouldn’t be right. Word will get out, and—”
With a mere crunching of his hard abs, Brogan sat up, shifting her bent leg over his lap and sliding his hands around her waist. “I need you.” He nuzzled the side of her neck with his hot mouth. In less than a heartbeat, he made her forget. Head flopping to one side, she bit her lip to keep from moaning.
Hateful reason knocked on her brain’s door. “You don’t even know me,” she managed to say, forcing her hand to push at his broad shoulder.
His head lifted. “What do you mean?”
“We barely know each other. And this…this…craze or lust or madness between us is nuts, because we’re practically strangers.” He gripped her chin, surveying her expression, and she looked into her favorite green eyes that made rational thought disappear as fast as Nestlé’s Toll House cookies at a sorority house.
“What are you talking about? I’ve known you since you were fifteen—”
His jumping pulse beneath her palm resting on his neck gave her a wake-up call. “You didn’t know me.”
He blinked as her sudden withdrawal became tangible. Her heart plummeted fifty feet down a dark well. In about five minutes, she would curse herself blue for not taking full advantage of his hot body and all the good stuff that went along with it, but she’d never been Fran-the-one-night-stand. When it came to relationships, she moved at a snail’s pace. Evident by the eight months she hung on with Anthony the webbed-neck weasel.
“I’m sure you’ve encountered many girls who have fantasized about you, and yes, I’m guilty of dreaming about you.” Only for seventeen short years. “But a summer fling seems risky.” And tawdry. “And since neither of us is staying, maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”
Brogan remained silent but looked as if he wanted to argue. Lucy started to move off his lap when a band of steel tightened around her hip, stopping her.
“I want to know you.” His voice was rough.
“You want to sleep with me.”
“That too. But I’m willing to wait.” But for how long? She shook her head. “Lucy, this thing between us…you’re right, I don’t know what it is, but I want to find out. Aren’t you the least bit curious? How it would be?” The caramel of his voice poured over her. “How it would feel?” His lips hovered over hers.
Great. Fantastic. Life altering. “I’d feel like a complete moron if I lost my job over it.”
His head reared back, and his brow furrowed. “That’s ridiculous. That’s not going to happen.”
“It could. I can’t afford—” She glanced down at the console, spying his phone chirping with a text message.
“Dammit.” His jaw locked as he read the screen.
“What?”
The warning in his eyes made Lucy nervous. “Look.” He turned the phone, and she read: Hey, Bro! don’t b late for my party. Bubbly is chillin. xoxo Jo Ellen.
A laugh worked its way up from her belly and shook her shoulders. “Guess she’s excited about her Mary Kay party. Wow. Chilled champagne…sounds romantic. Watch out. Jo Ellen might open her door wearing nothing but Saran Wrap and a smile.” Lucy howled at his shocked expression.
Brogan threaded his fingers through her hair, holding her head hostage, and smirked. “You’re gonna pay for this. Now, you owe me.”
“Yeah? Says who?” Ruining the tough-act effect with her snickers.
“I do. Thursday night. Me and you. On a date.” At his serious suggestion, Lucy’s laughter dried up. “And Friday night we’re going to the lake.”
She scrunched her nose and tried to replicate Julia’s bitchy glare-down.
“For Parker’s team party. Not…sex.” He grinned, wagging his finger in her face. “You’ve got a dirty mind, Little Lucy.”
“No way.”
He swooped down for another sizzling kiss. All her feminine parts danced the hootchy-kootchy, but then he removed his lips much too soon. “Come on. I’ll walk you to the door.”
Laughing on the inside at his predicament, Lucy opened the front door and turned back to Brogan. “Do you own a pair of rip-away pants?”
“What?”
“For the entertainment at Jo Ellen’s party. If you need a thong, I have one you can borrow.” Slamming the door in Brogan’s stunned face didn’t silence the string of curse words spilling from his mouth.
Chapter 21
For the next two days, Lucy sported a Braves baseball cap and dark sunglasses she’d found in her dad’s desk drawer as she ran Julia’s errands. Pictures of Mr. Neanderthal hauling her over his shoulder and dirty dancing with her at the bowling alley had hit Facebook and every other social media outlet with all sorts of captions like: Harmony’s Hottest Couple? Who Better to Bite Lucy than Brogan? Lucy breathed a prayer of thanks that no pictures popped up of the steamy make-out session in Brogan’s car afterward.
Focused on her job, Lucy had gotten busy downloading pictures of Brogan and Javier at the Harmony Huggers’ party hosted at the store. Miss Sue Percy led the pack, singing and drinking. And all the women were pictured hanging on the guys. The ones resembling a drunken, geriatric orgy Lucy purposely left off the Facebook page and website. But the tense lines bracketing Brogan’s mouth couldn’t be Photoshopped out. He still didn’t embrace being a sex symbol. Lucy wasn’t deterred and stuck to her marketing plan. Publicity was publicity. Customers trekked from Raleigh and beyond to check out the store and the Hotties of Harmony: Brogan, Javier, Keith Morgan, and even Vance Kerner, Harmony’s famous author.
It was Thursday, and the bucket of cleaning supplies rattling around in the backseat of the minivan reminded Lucy that Julia must’ve seen the pictures of her and Brogan online, because today’s errand list bordered on insanity. The scent of Clorox permeated Lucy’s skin and stank up the car’s interior. She hoped she could scrub the smell from her body before her date tonight. She’d just spent the last two hours scouring the kitchen and bathrooms of one of Julia’s listings. Julia’s assistant was taking another sick day, and the house needed cleaning per Julia’s instruction before it could be shown to prospective buyers. The glint of revenge in Julia’s eyes gave her away as she delighted in telling Lucy of the task this morning.
Lucy took a swig of her Cheerwine, coating her dry throat. Julia’s attempt to ruin her day had backfired, because she was smiling from ear to ear at the idea of a real date with Brogan. It had been a long time for Lucy.
Lucy pulled into the parking lot at the high school, and Parker stood on the sidewalk with his bag and gear at his feet, talking to some of the other players. As she eased to the curb, he grabbed his stuff and threw everything in the back. Sweat, dirt, grass, and stinky boy filled the car the minute Parker plopped in the front seat.
“Hey. How’d it go today?”
“Fine. Coach says I’ll get playing time in the scrimmage tonight. Hope Brogan is coming to watch.”
Tonight? Doodlebugs. “Uh, what do you mean by scrimmage?” She circled the lot and turned toward home.
Parker threw a you’re-too-dumb-to-live look at her. “It’s a football game, except we play against each other. For practice,” he said as if talking to the mentally challenged. “To prepare for our opponents.” Lucy knew what a scrimmage was, but did it have to be tonight?
“Thanks for clarifying…Peyton Manning.”
/> “Is Brogan coming?” he asked again with a tinge of hope in his half-man/half-boy voice.
How did one go about breaking it to her nephew that Brogan had asked her on a date so he could woo the pants off her? “Not sure. We’ve only talked about work.”
“I’ll text him.” Parker whipped out his phone and tapped his screen with lightning speed. Lucy’s heart thudded to a bumpy rhythm as her hopes of dressing up, applying makeup, wearing those kick-ass Michael Kors sandals Brogan had promised her (and had delivered) came to an unsatisfying end.
“I hope he can make it, because I want to show him the sneak play I learned.” How could she squelch the excitement Parker tried so hard to hide by insisting Brogan keep this date?
Parker jumped from the car and hauled his smelly equipment out as he clambered to the back door.
Lucy dragged her feet and the bucket of cleaning supplies from the backseat toward the house. Reeking of Clorox no longer presented a problem. She stopped when Toby Keith’s “Who’s Your Daddy?” sounded from her phone, indicating a call from Brogan. Lucy grinned at her appropriate choice of ringtones.
“Hey,” she answered, standing on the back porch, swiping her hand across the sweat on her forehead against another scorching August day.
“Lucy, if I had a dollar for every time someone squeezed my butt or rubbed her perfumed cleavage against my arm, I’d be a millionaire,” Brogan groused into the phone. Ah, Jo Ellen’s cosmetics’ party.
“You must’ve been a real success. Congratulations. Um, about tonight—”
The sound of a growling tiger hit her ear. “You’re not backing out. Not after what I suffered today.”
“Didn’t you get Parker’s text? He wants you to watch his scrimmage.”
“The scrimmage starts at five thirty. I’ll pick you up at five. Be ready.”
“For what? To watch high school football practice?”
“It won’t last more than an hour. Plenty of time to make it to dinner. I made reservations at Franklin’s, a really nice steak house in Raleigh.”
Not So New in Town Page 18
