“Griff?”
“Yes, honey.”
“You are so full of baloney.”
“What I am is embarrassed. I can’t remember the last time I told this story, probably because I never did. I was raised with better manners than to bore a charming, beautiful woman. We’re wasting this moonlight. I never-it’s the cardinal rule of my life-waste moonlight.”
For a man who’d had four glasses of wine, he was out of the lounge chair faster than magic. His eyes met hers in the darkness as he coaxed her out of the chair, pulled her close, pulled her into him.
Okay, she told herself. Okay. She’d been charged up from the first instant she met him, and she knew it. He was full of baloney, he charmed her, enticed her. Made her want to experience-just once!-being involved with a bad boy, a man who knew his way around women, who just plain liked women and knew what to do with them.
Every woman she knew had flings. Why on earth shouldn’t she?
She realized she wasn’t experienced in being wild and loose, but she was willing to practice. He was ideal to take lessons from.
It was just…the more she knew him, the less she believed of his bull.
And now he’d completely messed up the fantasy. Kissing him wasn’t about the wild, loose, immoral fling she’d had in mind. She liked the damn man. He was lonely, a solo flyer. Tons of people claimed to “love him”, but no one she’d seen so far actually seemed to know him. Much less really love him.
Not like a person needed to be loved.
So really, it was entirely his fault that it all just got out of hand.
He swooped her in his arms, and even though she wasn’t exactly sure how to seduce a seducer, she swooped right back.
Chapter 4
Griff couldn’t fathom how she’d so completely messed with his head. Kissing her was supposed to be about…well, about kissing. One of the most enjoyable activities in the universe. A prelude to an even more enjoyable activity.
And a side benefit of kissing her was shutting her up-not that Griff was thinking in such crass terms, but hell and a half, she’d somehow gotten him talking about personal history. He never did that, and never wanted to do that. Hell, he never even allowed himself to think about the past. The whole point of burying something was making sure it was nowhere near the surface.
Her scent, on the other hand, was dangerously near the surface. He was falling into this drug, this unexpected intoxicant made up of all the textures of Lily Campbell-her scent, her taste, her thick lustrous hair, the butter softness of her lips, the sweetness of her. The latter was the killer ingredient. He just wasn’t prepared for that yielding sweetness, the way she tipped her head back, the way she leaned into him, to him.
Hell times ten. What was it about this woman? His arms swept around her, wrapping her closer, as if to protect her from the moonlight, from chills and dangers that didn’t exist, from…him. She was a teacher, for heavens sake, not a Lorelei. She gave off more nerves than an untried girl. She wasn’t a player.
Every Southern girl emerged from the womb knowing how to flirt, knowing the danger line, enjoying the sport. Not Lily. She drifted off when he tried to charm her. And now, when he expected her to bolt because he was crossing the danger line, she curled around him as if inviting Armageddon. Hoping for it. Daring him to bring it on.
Hands skimmed down her sides, testing, exploring. Beneath her thin top, he could feel the suppleness of her skin, the warmth. The allure. Her eyes closed against the impossible brightness of moonlight. She sank into his touch, into yet another kiss, not yielding so much as communicating yearning.
Slow, wary of scaring her, rushing her, of doing anything to break this crazy spell, he eased the side of his hand against her breast, heard her responsive intake of breath, felt the heat rush straight to his groin. His arousal was no surprise, but he was hard to the point of pain, hard like a teenage boy who could only think of one thing. Having her.
Dipping deep into that softness and heat.
He brought her closer, achingly close, burning close, his hands sweeping down to her fanny, pressing. Her breasts crushed against his chest, nipples tight, igniting another firestorm of hunger, of awareness, of want.
Responsively, she swayed even more snugly against him, shimmying just a little against his arousal, nestling against it. At that precise second he understood she was saying yes. That he could have her naked, have her in his bed this night. All night.
Even more confounding, he couldn’t remember wanting a woman more.
Ever.
That thought was enough to scare a little sense into him-not a lot, but enough. He eased back from a kiss, pressed his forehead to hers, tried to remember how to breathe normally. Since they were still glued hip to hip, possibly, normal breathing was highly unlikely, but maybe he didn’t want that much sanity quite yet.
“What are we doing here?” he murmured, knowing exactly what they were doing. That was the problem-an intense awareness of how right, how damned perfect, she felt in his arms.
“You don’t know?” she whispered back. “I could have sworn you started this.”
He hadn’t. He’d started a kiss, yes. He’d intended to thoroughly enjoy a devastating, thorough, evocative good-night kiss. But she was the one who’d brought on the tsunami, not him.
“You’ve been seducing me,” he accused her.
“Trust me. It had to be you doing the seducing. I wouldn’t know how to begin.”
“Oh yeah, you do.” Her nonsense made him smile. Or maybe it was that hypnotic look in her eyes. He swayed against her, wanting to, needing to torture himself a little longer. “We’re going to make love aren’t we, Lily Campbell…”
“Is that a question or a statement?”
“Oh, it’s a statement for damned sure. But not tonight.” He heard the landline ringing in the house.
So did she. She straightened. “You need to answer that.”
“Yeah, I do. But I want you to know, if it weren’t for a potential emergency call, I’d let it ring until ten months from Tuesday. It’s not about wanting to stop this.”
“Griff.” It rang two more times while he tried to explain. “Just go. It’s all right.”
It wasn’t remotely all right. He could barely walk straight, and his head was still buzzing. But he always answered the landline phone at night. He only gave the unlisted number to so many people-like his boys. Jason and Steve were in the riskiest situations at the moment.
He grabbed the kitchen extension, prepared for…hell, prepared for anything. He’d had to be in the past.
Instead of a boy’s voice, though, he heard the gruff tone of Cashner Warden, the fire chief. “Griff. Got a fire at your shop. The fire truck’s on its way, but I’m driving in from home as well.”
He saw Lily pausing in the doorway, then her expression changed to immediate concern. She’d obviously grasped that something was wrong.
“Was anyone in the store? Do you know how bad the fire is?”
“Not sure of anything yet. Neighbor saw smoke, called nine-one-one. I know you got a sprinkler set up in there, so I’m hoping that-well, it’s foolish to speculate until we know more. I’m on my way.”
“I’ll be there.” Before Griff could hang up, Cashner got in one more question.
“Griff. You happen to know where Lily Campbell is?”
Griff frowned. “Say what?”
“I’m just asking. If it’s arson, my first thought would normally be one of those loser kids you take on-but that’s not so logical, considering you’re the one always bailing ’em out of trouble. So then I have to say. You know. It’s the second fire since she’s been in town.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Griff snapped, and hung up.
“What?” Lily asked. “Something’s wrong-”
“Fire. At my ice-cream place. I have to go.”
“Of course you do. How can I help?”
He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had offered to help him. And his first
response was to say the male thing-“of course not.” Yet, even before he’d grabbed a light jacket from the hall closet, he’d rethought that. “Something’s wrong, Lily,” he said quietly.
“Obviously. A fire’s a terrible-”
“Not that. Or not just that. I’m not sure if you heard, but the fire last week was at the old mill. The place is deserted these days. Nothing to worry about, as far as damages. Someone just brought in a heap of trash and lit a match to it. But it happened to be…”
There was a sudden stillness in her face. “Yes. Where my dad used to work. Where he lost his job. That’s why, of course, I set that fire.”
It was as if she’d turned inward, to a place he couldn’t see, couldn’t be. He heard the joke. He just understood that it wasn’t really funny-not to her-and damned if it was for him either. “Yeah. First thing the fire chief asked me was whether I knew where you were.”
She took in a breath. “Wow. So I set this fire, too?”
“Amazing, isn’t it? Really, sugar, I already realized you were amazing. But I had no idea you could be two places at once.”
“Some women have that kind of magic.” She was still joking, even though her face had turned pale.
“I don’t like this.” He couldn’t define why adrenaline was shooting so fast through his veins, but every protective instinct was charged on full. Two fires in less than two weeks. Lily’s name publically associated with both of them. What was going on?
“I can’t seem to think straight,” he admitted. “My first instinct is to suggest you come with me, be with me, so people will see us together. I’d think that would prove you aren’t the fire setter. Unfortunately, the plan’s full of holes. I could be stuck at the shop for an unknown stretch of hours. Makes no sense to strand you without a car.”
“This is easy, Griff. I’ll drive with you. I’d like to help if I can. And if there’s nothing I can do, then I’ll just walk home to Louella’s.”
He was about to object. He liked her plan-except for letting her walk home in the dark. Just then, though, they both heard the distant scream of the fire truck.
There was no time to argue about logistics or details. She even beat him to the car.
In every way, Lily wanted to help Griff, to step up and do whatever she could. She’d just kind of forgotten a couple things.
Like that she was petrified of fire.
Like that she tended to have panic attacks anywhere near serious smoke and flames.
The instant Griff turned on Main Street, the chaotic scene flashed in front of them. Griff stiffened as if someone had slapped him-then moved. He pulled the car over, didn’t waste time parking it, just cut the engine, tossed Lily the keys, opened the door and took off running.
Lily climbed out quickly, too, but then couldn’t seem to move. The fire truck couldn’t have been there long, but firemen manned two hoses, both of which were aimed full-force at the ice-cream shop. People clustered as close as they dared, some in their nightclothes, some holding kids and crying. The hoses choked the sharp yellow flames, turning everything into a black, sooty mess. The crowd, held back by yellow tape, screamed when the front window of the shop blew out, raining shattered glass glittering onto the wet pavement.
Griff was still charging under the police barrier toward his store.
Lily struggled to unfreeze. She knew this nightmare, every sharp edge, every petrifying shadow. No one knew about the furious noise of fire unless they’d endured it. No one knew about the choking smoke, the impossible mess, the stink. No one knew how something beautiful and safe and sure could be devastated in mere minutes.
No one knew that you could lose everything that ever mattered to you faster than the snap of two fingers.
She shook herself, forced herself to breathe, to move. This wasn’t about her. It was about a whole town-and Griff losing that treasure of an ice-cream parlor. In the distance, she saw both the sheriff and fire chief jog over to reason with him, talk with him. Images nailed in her mind. Griff, fighting to get to his store, scalping a hand through his hair when he was held back. Sheriff Conner shaking his head. The fire chief, Cashner Warden, cocking a foot forward, clearly asking question after question. Griff never took his eyes off the fire.
Lily scanned the crowd, trying to think of something, anything she could do to help. The townspeople all seemed to love Griff. There wasn’t a kid or family who didn’t stop for his ice cream, barely a woman who didn’t take the time to flirt with him. Several kids in the crowd were crying, hands to their mouths, being comforted by moms and dads whose faces looked white in the darkness. Every few moments someone would look at her-including Sheriff Conner.
It hurt to see suspicion in their eyes. They unquestionably thought the fire was caused by arson.
Darn it, so did she.
She spotted two of the boys who worked for Griff-Jason and Steve-and instinctively walked toward them. In such a relentlessly clean-cut town, the boys stood out like weeds in a garden. They were huddled on their own, isolated from the crowd, both wearing tees too thin for the damp night, shoulders hunched.
The tall one, Steve, had arms decorated with tattoos and his hair dyed with a stripe of red. But for all the belligerent expression, he had the eyes of a lonely kid.
The other boy, Jason, was scrapper-small, his head shaved like a marine’s. He’d saddened Lily from the first time she met him. He had that beaten look in his eyes, a posture that was always anxious, spring-ready-ready to run, ready to punch, ready always to face the next bad thing.
Both boys recognized her, saw her walking, but neither paid any attention until she stopped in front of them. “Hi, guys. Have either of you been here long enough to know what happened?”
Jason looked behind him, as if thinking she must be speaking to someone else. When he realized she was talking to him, his face flushed.
“He got here first.” He lifted his shoulder toward Steve. “But I got here right after. We both wanted to help, but the cops and firemen won’t let us go any closer.”
“But we’re not leaving,” Steve said. “We’re staying for Griff. No matter what anybody says.”
“That’s exactly how I feel,” Lily told them. “I don’t want to leave if there’s a chance I can help. But to tell you the truth, I’m really petrified of fires. Would you mind if I hang with you two?”
Both boys shot each other a look of alarm. Yet they both immediately moved to create a space between them, then promptly looked around as if expecting someone to explain the facts of life to Lily. There were respectable people all over the place that she could be talking to.
“Did you hear anything about how the fire started?” she asked.
“Lot of people talking, but nobody who knows.” Steve shifted on his feet. “It wasn’t, like, electrical. Because it wasn’t in the walls or like that. And the one fireman, he was talking about accelerants. Like how fast a fire burns, how it burns? I heard him say something about gasoline. Which means somebody set it.”
“Nobody shoulda done that to Griff,” Jason said heatedly. “Nobody.”
“That’s exactly how I feel,” Lily agreed. “I don’t know him well. But as far as I can tell, he’s decent to everyone, not at all the kind of person to make enemies. More like the kind of man who’d make serious friends.”
Steve lost some of his stiffness. “He doesn’t care who you are or where you come from. You’re good to him, he’s good to you. He doesn’t rush to judge people.”
“That’s my impression, too. So, can either of you think of someone who might have done this?”
Jason toed an imaginary spot on the cement. “Some people think that’d be you. Not that I’d be thinking that, of course. But some people been saying that.”
Steve shot him a look. “Not us. Griff, he set us straight about you. We know you’re okay.”
Lily kept an intrusive eye on Jason’s face. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate hearing that. It really hurts to have people think the worst of y
ou-especially when they don’t really know anything about you.”
Jason suddenly squinted at her hard, then said slowly. “Yeah. I know what that’s like.”
A moment later he shifted a little closer. She knew better than to push for any closer connection this soon. The gifted kids Lily taught tended to be well dressed and quiet, wealthy kids; but these two were so similar in other ways. Her students all had sharp edges, radiated the same don’t-fit-in loneliness. They were always braced for people to judge them as “different.”
In the meantime, the crowd was slowly drifting away. The smoke was still thick, the burned stench pervasive, but the fire was out, the danger clearly over. The fire truck had turned off its flashers. The authorities still hovered with Griff. Lily was uncertain how much time had passed. One hour? More? For darn sure, it was well past midnight…and the two boys were weaving on their feet.
She didn’t ask if their parents knew where they were. She would have bet the bank it was a waste of time. She just said, “I can see they’re starting to close this down. And I was thinking…”
“What?” Steve asked.
“Well. Nobody’s going to be allowed to touch anything until they take off the yellow tape-which I assume will be tomorrow, at the soonest. But the thing is-it really looks like a mess.”
“You’re not kidding,” Jason said.
“Griff is really going to need some help. But not now. So, it’d seem the best thing to do for us is to go home and get some rest. Because he’ll need all the energy we’ve got to help him tackle this tomorrow.”
“I don’t think we should go,” Steve said.
“I know. It feels wrong. But I keep thinking, if we’re all exhausted tomorrow, how much help can we really be for him? And there isn’t a prayer anyone will let us do anything tonight.”
“I don’t know,” Jason said unhappily.
Irresistible Stranger Page 5
