Summer on Main Street

by Crista McHugh

  Chelsea peered out the window toward the dock where Hunter was hosing down the boat. Now was as good a time as any to confront him about this morning. Her stomach jumped like she had a frog on speed hopping inside of it as she made her way down to him. An open bottle of shower gel stood a few feet from the boat, and the faint scent of soap still hung in the air like he’d just stepped out of the shower. Drops of water still clung to his hair, and his wet clothes molded the sculpted muscles underneath.

  Damn, he looked good.

  Bastard!

  She got within ten feet of him and crossed her arms, waiting for him to acknowledge her presence.

  When he finally looked her way, it was with the same unreadable expression he’d always worn around her. He stopped the spray long enough to ask, “What?”

  “I want to talk to you about what happened earlier today.”

  He answered with a derisive snort and a half smile before resuming the high-pressure spray.

  She drew a sharp breath in through her nose, practically seething from his dismissal. He started it, but by golly, she was going to finish it. A few long strides closed the space between them. She yanked the nozzle from his hand and threw it into the lake. “You’re not getting off that easily.”

  His half smile widened into a naughty grin that took getting off to a whole other level.

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” She balled her hands into fists to keep from taking a swing at him. Or worse, winding up back in his arms. “What the hell were you thinking in that shed?”

  The grin faded from his lips, but not completely from his eyes. He gave her a nonchalant shrug. “Seemed like a good way to shut you up.”

  “Shut me up?” It took every ounce of self-control not to stomp her foot like a girl throwing a temper tantrum. But then, no one riled her like Hunter McLemore.

  “Yeah. It was either shut you up or let you pass out.” He turned around and retrieved the hose to finish washing down the boat. “Sorry, Chelsea, but the doc’s on vacation.”

  Her breaths were as quick as they were in the shed, but this time, it was from pure anger. A dozen curse words sat on the edge of her tongue, but none of them would do him justice.

  Calm down. He’s just doing it to get a rise out of you.

  She forced herself to take a deep breath and slowly exhale like she’d been taught to do in her yoga class. The frustration flowed out of her tense muscles. A few breaths later, her mind was clear and ready to attack. “Well, with a kiss like that, no wonder you’re still single.”

  The spray nozzle fell silent, and he turned to her with a look of challenge in those piercing green eyes. “Meaning?”

  Why does someone so frustrating have to be so handsome?

  She licked her lips, wondering where all her spit had gone, and took a reflexive step back. “Obviously, you’re doing it wrong. A well-placed kiss should have a woman swooning at your feet, not shocking her out of a panic attack.”

  “Is that so?” He threw the hose down and sauntered toward her, everything about him calling her bluff.

  She nodded and stumbled back. “Exactly. Honestly, Hunter, it left more than just a little to be desired.”

  He closed the gap between them and caught her chin, tilting her face up to his. His thumb traced her bottom lip in one long, sensuous stroke that sent shivers cascading through her. “Desired, huh?”

  “Yes,” she replied, her voice cracking. Sweet Jesus, she was playing with the devil himself. Her mind cautioned her to run far away from Hunter, but her body refused to cooperate. For some sick reason, she wanted to see if this morning was just a fluke.

  She didn’t have to wait long to find out. He brushed his lips against hers ever so slightly, but the effect was even stronger than before. Her breath caught, and her skin tingled as though she’d been zapped by a lightning bolt. Never had such a simple kiss had such a profound impact on her.

  Just why did it have to be him?

  Before she had a chance to collect her wits, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him.

  The second kiss had the first one beat. It was rough yet sensual, polite yet demanding, unexpected yet downright sexy. Her toes curled from the way his lips teased hers until she parted them. Then his tongue captured hers in a forbidden dance that was hotter than the late June afternoon.

  Her knees went lax, and she balled her hands into his shirt to keep from falling into a puddle on the dock. He tightened his hold on her waist, pressing her against him until she had no question about how aroused he was. But she made no attempt to stop him. She was too busy drowning in the erotic bliss that was his kiss. If he continued for much longer, she’d be in danger of throwing her clothes into the lake and dragging him with her for some adult skinny-dipping.

  Just when she was about to throw propriety to the wind, he pulled away, giving her bottom lip one final nibble before ending things completely. A few seconds passed before she realized she had closed her eyes. When they fluttered open, she found a cocky grin on his face.

  “Better?”

  She didn’t trust herself to do more than nod. As it was, she worried her legs would buckle from under her if she let go of him, even if it meant her clothes were getting damp from his wet shorts.

  Thankfully, he’d made no effort to release her.

  He did, however, sniff the air and wrinkle his nose. “Do you smell that?”

  “Smell what?” She was still half-drunk from his kiss, but the more she sniffed the air, the fouler it became. Only it didn’t smell like fish.

  His attention wandered from her to something behind her, and his body stiffened. “Don’t make any sudden moves, but get behind me.”

  “What?”

  “Just do it.” The arm that once had pressed her against him now shoved her out of his way.

  She turned around and froze.

  A skunk stood at the edge of the dock and hissed at them.

  “Oh my God, oh my God,” she said as loud as she dared while she gripped his upper arms. “What are you going to do?”

  “Back away, slow and calm.” He led her back a step, then another. “It won’t spray us unless it feels threatened.”

  But instead of holding its ground—or even better, running back into the woods—the skunk ambled toward them.

  Chelsea bit back a scream and pulled Hunter back with her. “I refuse to smell like skunk on Lisa’s wedding day.”

  “Then don’t piss it off.”

  “Easy for you to say.” The skunk quickened its waddling pace, and a shriek escaped before she could clamp her hand over her mouth.

  “Damn it, Chelsea,” he growled. “Are you asking for a tomato juice bath?”

  “Just keep it away from me.” She retreated until her heels reached the edge of the dock.

  Shit!

  Hunter spread his arms out wide and went still. “With any luck, it will lose interest in us and go back into nature.”

  “I hate nature,” she whispered, never letting the skunk out of her sight.

  The animal peered into the bucket of fish parts and knocked it over.

  Chelsea’s stomach lurched, but she couldn’t tell if it was from the stench of the skunk or the pile of fish entrails it was sorting through.

  “Can you call for help?”

  “My phone’s on the boat.” He shifted his weight to better shield her from the skunk. “You?”

  “Inside the house.”

  “Perfect,” he replied with a healthy dose of sarcasm. “We’re stuck here until it’s done or until Bubba decides to come looking for us.”

  “Bubba’s in the shower.”

  The skunk looked up from its meal and hissed at them again.

  “You’re not helping,” Hunter said through clenched teeth.

  The black and white tail went up in the air like a bushy warning flag.

  Chelsea dug her fingers into his arms. “If it sprays us, I swear to God, I’m going to kill you.”

  “Well, w
e can’t let that happen.” He spun around, gathered her into his arms, and tossed her into the lake.

  Cold, murky water surrounded her and filled her nose and mouth. She clawed her way up to surface, coughing and sputtering, only to find him laughing nearby in the water.

  “You asshole!” She splashed him, but he continued laughing.

  “Hey, at least the skunk won’t spray either of us in the lake.”

  “You are the most despicable creature on earth.” She swam to the shore, cutting a wide path away from the dock in case the skunk wasn’t finished with them, and stood up as soon as her feet touched bottom.

  Leave it to Hunter McLemore to ruin everything.

  “Aw, come on, Chelsea,” he called from behind her. “Where’s your sense of humor?”

  She reached the shore and wrung the water out of her hair as he followed her onto land. “I have a sense of humor. A perfectly good one, in fact. It’s just more sophisticated than yours.”

  “You were the one begging me to keep the skunk from spraying you.”

  She whipped around and pushed him back into the water. “I should’ve known you’d mess with me the first chance you got.”

  He called out after her, but she didn’t dare turn around. In the span of a few minutes, he’d had her both hornier than a cat in heat and madder than an ornery rattlesnake. But one thing was certain. She refused to let him get under her skin like that again.

  Lisa intercepted her the moment she walked through the door. “What happened?”

  “He threw me into the lake.”

  Bubba muttered something under his breath about owing J.T. money, but Lisa silenced him with a smack on the back.

  “I’m sure I’ll hear about it later, but you’re not tromping through my house in those wet clothes.”

  Chelsea’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp. Could this day get any worse?

  “Wait right there, and I’ll be back with some towels.”

  A cool evening breeze blew by, puckering her damp skin in goose bumps. She hugged herself and shivered, but the cold didn’t stop her from giving Hunter a “stay-the-hell-away-from-me” glare when he reached the porch.

  Lisa appeared a minute later with two fluffy bath towels. “Strip off your wet things, and I’ll throw them in the dryer.”

  Hunter had no problems following her command. He peeled off his wet T-shirt to reveal a droolworthy eight-pack and a set of strong pecs. Desire heated Chelsea’s blood, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t look away from him.

  He caught her gaze and gave her that cocky half smile that told her he knew how hot and bothered she was getting from looking at him.

  Damn it!

  Well, two can play at this game.

  She turned around and pulled her tank top off to reveal her pale pink bra. Her shorts followed in a slow striptease, giving him an ample view of her ass and the thong that matched her bra. A backward glance told her he was the one practically drooling now, and she handed Lisa her clothes with a smirk, not taking the towel that was offered to her. If Hunter wanted to play the teasing game, he’d messed with the wrong girl. She strutted through the house in her underwear like a model on the catwalk, her head held high until she reached the safety of her bedroom.

  The moment the door closed, however, the façade vanished. She slid down the wall and hugged her knees to her chest. She’d confronted Hunter to get some answers, and all she got were more questions.

  Just make it through Saturday. You can do this for Lisa. Just make it through Saturday.

  And then she’d never have to see Hunter McLemore again.

  ***

  Hunter knew he needed to stop staring, but Chelsea looked so hot in that matching pink bra and thong, only a gay man would be able to look away.

  Well, a gay man or a man already happily engaged. Of course, he did notice Bubba catch a glimpse when Lisa wasn’t looking.

  Lisa waited until Chelsea disappeared before turning to Hunter with narrowed eyes. “Tell me what happened.”

  “Aren’t you going to let me change into some dry clothes first?”

  Despite being a petite woman, Lisa could fill the doorway with her presence. And the definite vibe he got was “you shall not pass.”

  He sighed and wrapped the towel around his waist. Then he slipped his shorts off underneath and held them out for her.

  She crossed her arms and didn’t take them.

  “Fine. A skunk was coming after us, and I threw her into the lake to keep her from getting sprayed.”

  “See, Sweetie Pie,” Bubba cajoled, placing a kiss on her cheek, “he was just trying to protect her.”

  Lisa didn’t seem so easily convinced. Her face remained stony, and she refused to budge from her position in the middle of the doorway. “There’s more to it than that.”

  Hunter sent a silent distress signal to Bubba. If he told Lisa about the kiss, he might not hear the end of it. As it was, he still wasn’t sure what to think of it himself. Chelsea had issued a challenge, and he’d taken her up on it. And thank God he had. He might not ever get another chance to kiss Chelsea Warner again, but for a few precious moments, he’d indulged in what had to have been the sweetest pair of lips he’d ever come across.

  Totally worth it.

  Bubba wrapped his arm around his fiancée’s shoulders and guided her away from the doorway. “Can we at least let him put some clothes on before we interrogate him?”

  Lisa snatched the shorts from Hunter, her glare never wavering, and wordlessly gathered up the rest of the wet things.

  Bubba jogged over to him and said in a low voice, “Can you at least give me a heads-up so I know how much shit you’re in?”

  “I kissed her.”

  “Again?”

  Hunter nodded and sank on the front porch swing. “And it was better than before.”

  “And then you had to go and screw it up.”

  Hunter let out a deep breath, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “It was the best thing I could think of at the time.”

  “No, I understand that.” Bubba came up beside him and thumped him on the chest with an open palm. “But like the old sayin’ goes—it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission. And if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve definitely made some headway with Chelsea.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Let’s just say she was licking her lips when you were taking your shirt off.” Bubba winked and pulled him up from the swing. “Now get changed and join me on the porch for a beer while the girls fry up the fish for dinner. Maybe between the two of us, we can come up with a way to get you more than just a kiss.”

  Chapter Four

  Chelsea stopped short of the doorway when she saw only Hunter in the kitchen the next morning. “Where are Bubba and Lisa?”

  “At work,” he replied, never looking up from the newspaper.

  Lovely. I’m stuck in the house with him.

  “Any idea when they might get back?”

  “Nope.”

  They were back to the one-word conversations again. At least she knew how to handle those. And as long as he kept his lips to himself, she’d be okay. She poured a cup of coffee and pulled a yogurt out of the fridge.

  He waited until she’d taken the first bite to speak again. “They gave us a list of things to do for the wedding, though.”

  She nearly choked on the strawberry yogurt. “What are you talking about?”

  “This.” Hunter traded the newspaper for a single sheet of lined notebook paper with a scribbled list covering the entire page. “I figure it will take us most of the day to get all of it done.”

  She snatched the paper from him and scanned the items. Pick up the linens in Auburn. Pick up the tent in Opelika. Pick up seven Boston butts, eight whole chickens, and five slabs of ribs from the local warehouse club. Pick up three kegs of beer. Pick up the tuxedos from the rental place. The list of wedding-related things went on and on.

  Chelsea sank into the n
earest chair. “And they expect us to do all this today?”

  Hunter nodded and took the list back. “Bubba and I hitched his trailer up to my Durango this morning for the big stuff. I figured we’d get that out of the way first, then go back and get the food and smaller things without the trailer.”

  She paused and replayed what he’d just said. “We? As in you and me?”

  “Lisa said you knew where all these places were since they were around campus, and I doubt you’d want to do all the heavy work yourself.”

  “You think I can’t do it all by myself?”

  He raked his gaze up and down her body, one brow arched in doubt.

  “Whatever.” She inhaled the rest of her yogurt and took a large gulp of coffee. “Let’s just get this over with as soon as possible.”

  ***

  Hunter started up his Durango and turned the AC on full blast. It was barely nine in the morning, and it already promised to be another scorcher. Thankfully, the weather forecast called for a front to move through tonight, bringing some much-needed cooler and drier air in time for the wedding.

  Chelsea climbed into the passenger seat wearing denim shorts that should’ve come with a warning due to the amount of perfectly tanned and toned legs they revealed. She stared straight ahead, pulling her blond hair up into a ponytail, and said, “Let’s go.”

  He let out an inward sigh and shifted the Durango into drive. She was still angry at him. Today could go one of two ways. Either Bubba’s plan would work, or they’d end up killing each other before the day was done.

  He ran over the game plan one more time. Get Chelsea talking about herself. Listen attentively. Get over his fear of talking to her. Sounded simple enough, but every sideways glance at her legs had him wishing they were doing much more than just talking. Last night had been bad enough with him tossing and turning every time he thought about that kiss. God, it had been good. And even better was the knowledge that she’d enjoyed it. He’d much rather spend the day coaxing more kisses out of her than running all over this corner of Alabama getting last-minute supplies for the rehearsal dinner and wedding.