No doubt they were going to check the footage to make sure there’d been no Peeping Toms.
His attention shifted to the small lock that was still hooked in the opening. It hung open, waiting for the camera’s return. Another glance at the dome camera and he moved to the left, tracking back behind the field of vision so that he could come up on the game cam setup from behind.
He reached around the tree and touched the small padlock. A quick lift and he retrieved the piece of hardware. It was round with a digital display rather than the traditional key lock. Too expensive for the average hunter, which meant it might be a viable lead.
Sliding the metal into his pocket, he backtracked around the area, careful to stay away from the truck and the dome camera’s field of vision.
It took time, but soon he was in the clear. He made his way back through the trees for the next two miles, deep into the dense foliage that eventually led to the road and his SUV parked on the shoulder.
Climbing inside, he checked his cell phone, noted the text from Marge reminding him that he had a granola bar in the glove compartment and one from Bobby telling him that Kaitlyn was excited at the prospect of a date with him. All she needed was a day and time.
Tomorrow night.
That’s what Bobby suggested. He was planning a double date and Friday was steak night at the Beef-it-up Diner, a new steakhouse out on the interstate.
Yes.
That’s what he wanted to text back. His muscles were tight. His body tense. His gut inside out. And all because of a certain blonde and some really hot kisses.
That meant he needed to kiss someone else. To get Jenna Tucker out of his system and set his sights on someone else. On someone appropriate.
Not because he cared what anyone else thought of him.
This wasn’t about his reputation. It was about preserving his own sanity. About forgetting the past and staying focused on the future.
Jenna reminded him too much of the man he’d once been.
All the more reason to let Bobby fix him up with Kaitlyn.
He would, but not tomorrow night. Maybe next week. When things had died down and hopefully, he’d busted the moonshiners he was after.
The last thing he needed was a distraction.
He needed to head back to the station, flag the evidence, and see what he could find out about it.
He would.
But he had one stop to make first.
He’d meant to drop off the door the other night, but then he’d been sidetracked with another wild kiss. Tonight he was installing the door and then he was out of there.
No touching.
No kissing.
Nothing.
That’s what he told himself.
He just hoped like hell he managed to remember it when he found himself face to face with sexy Jenna Tucker.
My dearest P.J.,
I know writing these letters is futile. You’ll never receive them since I haven’t been able to talk Martha into sneaking them out to the post office. She’s too afraid of our folks and I can’t say that I blame her. Father has become unbearable, especially now that I’m starting to show. It’s only a matter of time before he refuses to look at me at all and I’m sent away to my aunt Luella’s in Chicago. She already has a room ready. I’m to stay with her until the baby comes and the church steps in. They are going to take the baby, or so my father says. But I will not let such a thing happen. This is my baby. All I have left of the man I love. I can’t lose this baby and its father. I won’t. I will find a way out. A way back. I will give this baby a mother and a father if it’s the last thing I do.
Still begging your forgiveness,
Clara Bell Sawyer
Jenna folded the letter and tried to ignore the strange hollowness in her stomach. The sadness. Poor Clara Bell.
Jenna couldn’t imagine being so young and isolated and at the mercy of so many people who thought they knew what was best. Sure, she was surrounded by an entire town that thought they knew what was best for everyone, but she hadn’t bent to their will.
Until now.
She stiffened against the thought, stuffed the letter on the bottom of the pile, and set the stack to the side. She spent the next hour working her way through the cupboards on the left side of the kitchen, boxing up plates and dishes and a stash of small appliances that she’d forgotten existed.
An ancient waffle maker her mother had used when she’d made Sunday breakfast. An old juicer that had belonged to her grandmother. Back during a time when James Harlin might have actually drank something healthy rather than pickling his liver with his homemade shine. An old hand-cranked mixer Callie had used to make lumpy mashed potatoes when she’d first started cooking for the family.
They’d been the most godawful things, but she and Brandy had eaten them anyway because they’d had nothing and no one else. James Harlin certainly hadn’t lifted a hand to cook for his orphaned granddaughters.
Her stomach grumbled as she closed the box and set it to the side. She pushed to her feet. Her hand went to the freezer, but she let it fall away. She needed something stronger than Callie’s sorbet.
She thought of the ice cream sandwiches stuffed at the back of the freezer. Cool and sweet and oh so satisfying.
But not satisfying enough.
Her gaze went to the cupcakes. She’d promised herself no more until tomorrow. At the rate she was going, she wouldn’t have to worry about Hunter wanting her. A daily dose of cupcakes and she’d be a good fifty pounds heavier in no time. Instant turn-off.
That’s what she told herself, but she couldn’t shake the gut feeling that it would take more than a few extra pounds to dissuade a man like Hunter. Not when he set his sights on something. On someone.
She grabbed the box and opened the lid.
One cupcake, she promised herself.
Just one.
A few moments later, Jenna sank down on the old porch swing. Wood groaned and chains creaked. A steady squeak scraped across her nerves as she pushed the old two-seater into motion.
Opening the cupcake box, she pulled out the decadent chocolate, peeled back the paper, and took a bite.
Chocolate exploded and a groan worked its way up her throat. Mmm …
The first bite was good, but she needed great. Amazing. Phenomenal. Satisfying.
Yep, she needed some satisfaction. Maybe then she could stop thinking about Hunter and how good he’d kissed and how she wanted to kiss him again. And again.
She took another bite. The chocolate stroked her taste buds and she groaned again. Okay, bite two was a little bit better. Her hopes high, she went for number three.
She was down to one last mouthful when she heard the deep familiar voice and her heart stalled.
“Sounds like somebody’s enjoying herself.”
Not nearly enough.
Not yet.
Her gaze snapped up and collided with a pair of twinkling blue eyes. Her stomach hollowed out and her mouth watered. A craving whispered through her, skimming her nerve endings and setting her entire body on fire. A feeling that had nothing to do with the cupcake and everything to do with the hot, sexy man who stood in front of her.
CHAPTER 20
“That must be one amazing cupcake,” Hunter said, his legs making quick work of the yard that separated them.
A few seconds later, the swing dipped as he sank down next to Jenna and her stalled heart revved and bolted forward at breakneck speed.
“I could hear you clear across the yard,” Hunter added.
His jeans-clad thigh brushed hers and … uh-oh. He was wearing jeans. No boring-schmoring beige uniform tonight. Worn black jeans and a soft black T-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders and hugged his muscular biceps. He also wore a grin that said while he might be referring to the frosted goodie in her hand, he was thinking about something a lot more decadent when he said, “You were really into it.”
“It’s okay,” she managed after a distinct swallow. �
�I … That is,” another swallow and she managed, “what are you doing here?”
“Your door, remember?”
“You don’t have to…” she started, but then he caught her hand and the words scrambled.
“I promised. I know it’s just going to get torn down, but it’s nothing expensive. Just a good temporary to replace your old door until the demolition. So how about it?”
“About what?”
“Are you going to give me a taste of whatever it is that’s got you oohing and ahhing?”
She held out the last bite. “Help yourself.”
He took the cake, popped it into his mouth, and swallowed in one big gulp.
“See? It’s good, right? Chocolate Nirvana. One of Brandy’s specialties.”
“Your sister really knows her way around an oven!”
“She’s been baking since she was a kid. She used to fire up the stove every afternoon to make brownies or cookies or something. Our house always smelled like sugar.”
“My mom wasn’t much for baking,” Hunter said, his thigh brushing hers as the swing moved back and forth in a motion that was almost hypnotic. Her muscles eased and for the first time in weeks, she found herself relaxing. “She didn’t cook much either. She was always working.”
“Your mom was a paralegal, right?”
He nodded. “That’s how she met and married my dad. They worked together and so most nights were TV dinners for me and my brother when we were kids.”
“What about when you got older?”
“I ran on pure adrenaline most of the time. Food didn’t figure in. And when it did, it was usually burgers or chicken. You know, something fast.”
“I would have given anything for a burger instead of Callie’s mashed potatoes. She wasn’t much of a cook at first. She got better as the years went on. That, or we just got used to eating her stuff. Poor Brett.”
A warm chuckle sizzled over her nerve endings. “He doesn’t look the worse for wear. In fact, he looks damned good. I saw him the other day. He’s never looked so happy.”
“It’s crazy, right? They’re both from opposite sides of the fence, but they’re happy. I think Callie might be pregnant.” The words were out before she could stop them and she immediately caught her lip, trying to figure out why she’d blurted out something so important.
Private.
Because there was something mesmerizing about the steady motion of the swing and the close proximity of his warm body.
“I shouldn’t have said that. She just doesn’t know for sure and I’m sure she wouldn’t want people talking—”
“Your secret’s safe with me, Jenna.”
Silence closed in around them for a long moment and then the words started coming again, pouring out of her mouth of their own accord. “They’re going to tear down the house in a matter of days. I’ve got most everything out, but I’m still not ready.”
“A lot more packing to go?”
“Packing’s the easy part.” It was the letting go she was having more trouble with. The saying goodbye. The change. “As long as you’ve got plenty of boxes,” she rushed on, desperate to ignore the sudden rush of thoughts. “I need to pick up more. A lot more. Speaking of which, I should really get back inside—”
“But we’re not done here.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The cupcake was good, but I really need something else, he said, pushing to his feet.
“Like what?”
The swing bounced and shook as he turned and dropped to his knees in front of her. He reached for the waistband of her shorts. “Like this.”
“I don’t think…” she started, but then one strong finger touched her lips and she tasted salty skin and hot, sexy male.
“You think too much.” He unfastened the button and shimmied the material down her legs, his fingers grazing her sensitive skin along the way. “You’re too wound up. You need to try to relax. Forget the packing for a little while and just feel.”
“I…” She wanted to. She really did. But she’d spent her teenage years doing just that and it had gotten her nothing except a big, bad reputation.
And a few good memories, a voice whispered. She’d definitely had fun.
And suddenly a little harmless fun didn’t seem like such a bad thing. It wasn’t as if she was riding through town in front of God and the entire senior women’s prayer group. She was in back of her own house, away from the gossips and goodie-goodies.
Hunter was the only one here. In front of her. Surrounding her. Begging her to open up.
And she couldn’t help herself.
She did just that.
Her thighs fell open and he wedged himself between her knees. Heat swept through her and chased the oxygen from her lungs as his fingertips swept from her calves, up the outside of her knees, until his hands came to rest on her thighs.
“I’ve been wanting to do this for a very long time.”
“We only really met a few days ago.”
“Yeah, well it seems like fucking forever being so close to you and not touching you.” He touched his lips to the inside of her thigh just a few inches shy of her panties. “Not tasting you.”
He nibbled and licked and worked his way slowly toward the heart of her. She found herself opening her legs even wider, begging him closer.
He trailed his tongue over the silk veering her wet heat and pushed the material into her slit until her lips plumped on either side. “Christ, you’re so beautiful.” He trailed a fingertip over the sensitive flesh and a shiver gripped her. Her breath caught and she braced one hand on his shoulder. Her fingers curled into the sinewy flesh.
Her body tightened. Nerves pulsed, vibrated, faster and faster. Until she was wound so tight that she just knew she would shatter at any moment.
She didn’t.
Because it wasn’t enough.
There were too many barriers between them. Too many clothes.
As if he read her thoughts, he gripped the edge of her panties and she lifted her hips to accommodate him. The satin material slithered down her legs and landed in a puddle near her feet.
He caught her ankles and urged her knees over his shoulders. Large, strong hands slid under her ass and drew her to the edge of the swing. He tilted her just enough to better the angle and then he dipped his head.
He parted her with his tongue and lapped at her sensitive clit. He tasted and savored, his tongue stroking, plunging, driving her mindless until she came apart beneath him. A cry vibrated from her throat and joined the symphony of crickets that surrounded them.
Her heart beat a frantic pace for the next few moments as she tried to come to terms with what had just happened.
She’d said to hell with her transformation and backslid right back into her old ways.
That’s what she told herself, but she felt too alive, too friggin’ good to care at the moment.
Because as wrong as Hunter DeMassi was for her, he felt very right.
So much so that she closed her eyes and leaned her head back. She forgot all about the house and the packing and the letting go and just let the orgasm ripple over her for a long, delicious moment.
“We should take this inside,” he said when she managed to open her eyes.
Yes. That’s what she meant to say.
They should be inside, hidden away from anyone who might happen by because she had a newly won reputation to protect and so did he and, well, it wasn’t like they were a couple.
“I—I really don’t think we should be doing this.” The words came of their own accord, fueled by a crazy sense of hurt because they were all wrong for each other and he obviously knew it as much as she did.
And that’s bad because…?
It wasn’t. At least he wasn’t mentally planning a wedding like all the other nice guys in her past.
But then Hunter wasn’t so nice. She could see that now despite the front he put up. He was every bit the bad boy that fueled her fantasies.
She shot down the notion as soon as it reared its ugly head. One decent orgasm and she was already picking out china. Talk about hard up.
“I—I really should get back to work. I’m cleaning out kitchen cabinets.” She tugged on her shorts while he pushed to his feet. She scrambled to an upright position and fought with the button at her waistband.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Not that I didn’t enjoy it.” She snatched up her undies from the ground. “I did, but I shouldn’t have because you and I … Well, it just can’t happen. I’m really trying to change my image and, well, I don’t do one-night stands anymore.”
“Maybe I want more than a one-night stand.”
She pinned him with a stare. “I don’t do relationships either. Not right now. Things are too up in the air. I’m trying to get my life in order and this will only complicate things.”
“You’re right.” He reached for her waistband and slid the button easily into place, his gaze dark and knowing as he stared down at her.
As if he saw all the fears inside.
As if he shared them.
“You’re not my type and I’m not yours and this really is a bad idea. I should get busy with that door. That’s why I stopped by.”
Before she could respond, he kissed her roughly on the lips and headed for the house.
Jenna thought about following him, but that would just lead to another kiss and maybe another orgasm and, well, talk about a really bad idea.
She sank down onto the swing and settled in for the next hour, until she heard the rumble of his SUV in the distance and the fade of the engine as he headed back to town.
Yep, Hunter DeMassi was a bad idea. The worst she’d had in a long, long time.
And damned if that didn’t make her want him that much more.
She thought about the letters, about how Clara fooled her family into thinking that she was the perfect daughter. But deep down, she never changed. She never stopped loving the father of her child. She never stopped begging P.J. for his forgiveness.
Because deep down, she’d been the same wild, wanton girl who’d fallen in love with him in the first place.
Tempting Texas Page 12
