“Bob?”
“Battery-operated boyfriend. I think he and I are considered common-law spouses.”
Tanner broke out in gales of laughter as the server brought their drinks. Grace was so thirsty, and regretted her admission so much, that she downed half of her drink in one gulp.
Tanner was getting himself back under control when she finished. “All right, so tell me about these wonder men.”
She ran her finger across the rim of her glass and stuck a bit of the creamy foam in her mouth. “Okay, so a couple of months ago I had this idea that it was time to settle down. I didn’t want to go to the bars, especially here.” She shot him a playful arch of her eyebrow. “You never know what you’ll find.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” he agreed, but he had a soft expression on his face.
She liked it, the way his eyes looked like secret pools of blue water, the faint smile that curved the corner of his mouth. Mmm, that mouth. She cleared her mind, and her throat. “I decided to take the plunge and put up a profile on one of those matchmaking sites.”
“This is where that list came in handy, right?” He tipped his chin toward her phone. “What were your criteria?”
“I was looking for a man between thirty-eight and forty-five, who’d be in a similar place in life, with a respectable professional.” The complete opposite of Tanner.
“What else?”
She pulled out her phone and called up her document, which really should have told her that she’d had too much to drink. She’d shown no one this. “You really want to hear this?”
“Yes, I really do.”
“Okay. ‘Organized and goal-oriented. Open to having a kid or two in the next few years. Likes the beach and the occasional sappy movie. And dancing.’ “He scored on some of her list. Not that it mattered.
“At least I hit some of your points,” he said, as though it did matter. “I like the beach and a good sappy movie now and then. I like kids, though I can’t say I’ve given serious thought to having any.” He met her gaze. “Sorry, got off track. You put your perfect date list online, and then what?”
“I go on three dates from this site. One guy tells me that he’s not really an accountant; he’s a CIA agent working undercover. And I can tell he’s lying, because, yeah, I don’t think they go around telling first dates that kind of thing.”
“I think that’s against the supersecret CIA policy.”
“Totally! When he called for another date, I told him that I’d consulted with a psychic, who warned me that if I continued to date him I’d be killed in an ambush, taking a bullet meant for him.”
Tanner belted out a raucous laugh. “I love it. It’s not like he could back off from that. What about the second guy?”
“So boring, I wished he had made up lies. He’s some kind of scientist, and he’s looking for a wife and mother of his future brilliant children. So he’s asking me these genetic questions, like my IQ and GPA, and clearly he thinks he’s doing it in a subtle way. When I ask him something, it’s all one- or two-word answers.”
“So you know marriage to this guy is going to be one belly buster after another.”
“Exactly. But the third guy was definitely going to offer, er, some interesting experiences. He’s an engineer with a big firm up in Pensacola. I check him out and, yes, he’s on the company’s website and looks like his picture. Nice-looking man.” And, again, the complete opposite of the sexy guy sitting so very close to her. “After that awkward getting-to-know-you conversation, he confesses that he likes to curl up naked in a tub filled with warm water and pretend he’s back in his mother’s womb. Then he suggests that I come to his house for dinner on our next date and join him. Do I look like I’m two shades of whacked?”
Tanner rubbed his mouth, but beneath his hand she could see his shocked smile. “We should have started with awful first dates instead of awful pickup lines.”
“What was your worst first?”
“When I first turned pro, this blonde comes up and says she wants to drift. But soon I realize she wants to screw in a pro drift car with the pro driver. I’d had a shitty run day, with one of my opponents tapping my car and sending me into a wall. So I’m, like, eh, what the hell? In the blink of an eye, she’s naked, and way too skinny. First she wants me to strap her into the seat. So now I’m going to have to get all contortionist, which is already making me rethink this. Then she wants me to bite her all over her body—hard; she wants ‘love marks.’ Well, I can’t do that, especially to someone I don’t even know. I always use protection, but she wants to go without, swearing she’s on the Pill. Now my antennae aren’t only up but buzzing big-time. I release her from the seat and tell her that I’m not interested after all. She calls me names and stalks off, probably wanders over to some other driver and does the same. I have no illusions about a woman who wants to bang you because you’re a well-known driver. It wouldn’t have mattered squat whether the dick inside her belonged to me or to Bones or Jujitzu. All she wanted was bragging rights.”
“I’ll take my awful dates over yours.”
“Technically, it wasn’t even a date. And, you know, even when the, ah, situation did turn out all right, it didn’t feel right. I didn’t like who I was becoming, this egotistical guy who only cut his hair twice a year because the chicks dug it. So I stopped after my first season.”
Wow, a man who could see when he was straying down the wrong path. Who was not only cognizant of it but strong enough to stop, even when it involved easy sex and ego stroking.
The waitress swung by and eyed Grace’s nearly empty pint glass. “Should I bring another?”
“I probably shouldn’t. These are going down way too easy.”
“Go ahead, indulge. I’ll catch you if you fall.”
Fall free. That’s what he wanted to see her do. What scared her, though, was falling for him. But right then she felt free and young and wild, and she loved that feeling. “All right. And a water, please.” When the server left, Grace aimed a firm look at Tanner. “Don’t think you’re going to get me drunk and have your way with me.” Then she laughed, because she couldn’t hold her mock severity any longer.
“I promise I will not take advantage of you. We’re here as friends.” He lifted his glass and tipped it against hers.
“I’m so glad to hear that,” a woman’s voice said from the vicinity. It was the blonde from the group of women who’d been ogling Tanner. Not that he knew that. She adjusted her tiara, wavering a bit. “I’m celebrating my birthday, and I’d love to dance with a guy who knows how.” She squeezed Grace’s shoulder. “You don’t mind if I borrow him, do you?”
What was she supposed to say? Yes, I mind very much, get your hand off me and your mind off him?
But the birthday girl wasn’t waiting for an answer. She took hold of Tanner’s hand and gave him a cute pleading pout. “Please?”
Grace wanted to get all up in her face and tell her how freakin’ rude it was to try to steal someone else’s guy, friend or no. But that seemed way too jealous, even if the thought of watching Tanner dance with someone else would drill a hole in her heart.
Tanner gave the birthday girl a charming smile. “Darlin’, I’m flattered, but I’m here with my beautiful friend.” He slung his arm over Grace’s shoulder and pulled her closer. “And I’d feel mighty impolite leaving her here alone to dance with someone else. How ‘bout I buy you a birthday drink instead?”
Grace wanted to melt against him. She did lay her cheek on his shoulder, because even though she’d known him for less than a week she thought he might actually be the best friend she’d ever had.
Because you don’t let people in…
The woman’s pout softened as she took them in. “That’s sweet of you. But not necessary. You have fun with your friend.” With a wink, she flounced back and gave her buds an empty-handed gesture.
Had Grace heard some kind of emphasis on the word friend? She turned to Tanner. “Thank you for that.”
“Truth is, I wasn’t flattered. I think it’s rude to ‘borrow’ someone else’s date.”
As Grace looked into his eyes, a hundred different phrases threatened to roll out of her mouth. Like her earlier words: And that’s why I love you.
Not that she did actually love him. But she was feeling things she hadn’t felt in a long time. Even scarier, she was feeling things she’d never felt.
To keep anything crazy from coming out of her Guinness-lubricated mind and mouth, she took his hand. “Let’s dance.”
She felt high and free, even dancing to the song “Break Your Heart.” But no, she wasn’t seriously falling in love with Tanner. She was falling for the way she felt when she was with him, though. No need to delve too deeply into the difference.
She danced and spun and, in the relative safety of a crowded dance floor, let herself fall free. Admittedly, she was a little buzzed. Well, a lot buzzed, but only a portion of it was due to the alcohol.
Tanner met her dance for dance. Knowing that he was enjoying watching her made her even looser, letting her sensuality out a little more with each song. She snuggled her back up against the front of him, and they both shimmied down to the floor during Flo Rida’s “Low.” He felt good plastered up against her, his hands at her waist.
She turned within the confines of his arms. In her platform heels, she was only a couple of inches shorter than him. They swayed together, her legs on either side of his thigh, her hands on his shoulders. Their gazes locked as the song morphed into another one, and they kept moving together in a slow, languorous rhythm.
She reached up to touch his face, sliding her fingers down his beard, her thumbs brushing the sensuous curves of his mouth. Her heart beat with a heavy thud that had nothing to do with exertion. His eyes were a hazy blue now, and they shifted to her mouth. She saw the answering hunger there, twisting inside her, wanting and afraid at once, and then she leaned up and kissed him.
All that hunger roared through her, a call she could no longer ignore. He opened his mouth and took her back, sweeping his tongue against hers, pulling her closer against his hot, damp body. His hands tightened on her hips, as if to keep them from roaming. She stroked his face as she’d been longing to do all day. Her body rocked against his, fueling the heat between her legs. And he answered her, pressing his thigh into her pelvis.
The desire pulsing through her was crazy, engulfing, but she wanted more than him driving into her. She wanted—needed—all of him, around her, in her, and that level of need scared the hell out of her.
You just need this. One hot kiss on a dance floor where nothing else can happen.
Yes, yes, she needed this. To feel alive in that most intrinsically female way. To feel desired.
She swore that her heart was beating as loud as the music. He plundered her mouth, as hungry as she for something too long denied. He ran his hands up and down her sides, over her hips. She dared to open her eyes, and found his closed in pleasure. Then she fell to it again, even as she tried to regain control. She wanted more, so much more.
She finished the kiss before she could get totally lost in it, leaving her palm against his cheek. “What are you doing to me?” she whispered.
“You kissed me,” he said with a soft tease in his voice, leaning down to brush a soft kiss across her mouth. He pressed his forehead to hers. “Don’t freak out, okay? It’s a kiss on the dance floor. Don’t pull a Cinderella on me again. I couldn’t take it.”
She tried to make light of it with a smile. “That’s because I have the keys to the only car.”
“No, Grace, that’s not why.”
When she leaned back, she saw that he was very serious. But he didn’t elaborate, and who was she to press when she couldn’t tell him why kissing him freaked her out? Still, she’d hurt him with her selfish action. At first she thought it was just his ego, but she saw now that it was more. Oh, no. She’d mirrored the actions of the two most important women in his life.
She rubbed her thumb across his lower lip, because she dared not press her lips there again. “I won’t ever do that to you again.” Because it had come out in such a deep, raw way, she added, “Besides, I’ve had too much to drink to even think about getting behind the wheel.”
“Me, too.”
“It’s getting late, and we’re both slayed. Why don’t we get a room here? Then we can hit the car lot first thing instead of having to come back up tomorrow. I just need to be in Chambliss by four.”
“A room? As in…one?”
She ran her words through her mind, then lifted one shoulder. “We can resist temptation, can’t we? We just got caught up in the music, along with a few drinks. We’ll get separate beds. I’m sure the world will stop spinning by the time we get there. Then again, it feels good.” She spun around, wobbled a little, before coming back to face him, with his hands steadying her shoulders. “Like you said, controlled chaos.” She wobbled again. “Except maybe not so controlled.”
“Grace,” he groaned. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me. Smiling at me like that, making it sound so easy.”
“Easy,” she repeated, leaning against him with her smile in place. Easier than going home and sleeping alone, she thought to herself, only it sounded a lot like she’d said it aloud.
Chapter 9
Grace was killing him. Just killing him. She had taken his advice way too well, that falling-free thing. And damn did it look good on her as she tossed a tourist T-shirt into the cart at the all-in-one megastore down the road.
“Something to sleep in,” she chirped, then sashayed off to the beat of the song jamming over the speakers.
She was still feeling the alcohol, and he suspected that he was seeing the hot self that she hid beneath the guarded, respectable lawyer.
He swallowed a groan and changed the shirt from medium to extra-large. He could handle sharing a room, and in fact, he’d feel better not leaving her by herself.
Especially after hearing that softly spoken comment about being alone. It hit him why he’d been drawn to her that day at the bar, and what continued to connect him to her so deeply. Grace’s shadows called to his own, coaxing them from their long-buried caves and crevices. The loneliness. The pain. He would have to face them if he wanted to be with her. And she would have to face hers¸ too.
He also felt the wild spirit that he never hid. That she was unleashing her spirit with him, trusting him, filled him with gratitude and a deeper feeling that he didn’t want to examine too closely. It also scared the hell out of him, because he didn’t want to betray that trust.
And watching her sweet ass in her white shorts and the platform sandals wasn’t freakin’ helping.
He needed a shower. A cold shower to dampen his libido. He’d never had to test that theory before, so he sure hoped to hell it worked. It would help her, too, sober her up—
“Lookee what I found!” she said from behind him, leaning close to plop a four-pack of Guinness beer into the cart.
“Great.”
She didn’t seem to notice his lack of enthusiasm, because she held up a can of shaving cream and a razor. She came close and stroked his beard, which had just about driven him crazy when she did it earlier on the dance floor. Not to mention that it put her right up in his face.
“I want you to shave,” she said, giving his beard a slight tug. “So you’ll look like a kid and I won’t be so fucking tempted.” With a raw sigh, she dropped the things into the cart and stepped back.
He blinked at her use of that word and the desperation it contained. Hey, he’d do whatever it took to bank that heat, because this not taking advantage of her was getting harder and harder.
And so was he.
He put several bottles of water in the cart along with a bottle of aspirin. He had a feeling she was going to need it.
“Ready to go?” he asked before she could do anything else.
“Yes.” She held on to the cart as he steered it toward the front of the store. “And I’m paying f
or this.”
“No, I—”
She spun and gave him a look that would have wilted any opposing lawyer. “Yes. You paid for lunch and drinks. I’m not your girlfriend. Or your responsibility. I take care of myself.”
He didn’t like that, any of it. He wanted to tell her that right now he was taking care of her, but they’d reached the counter. He let her pay because he didn’t want to argue with a lawyer. In fact, he didn’t want to argue with her at all tonight. Even though a rip-roaring argument would go a long way toward stemming temptation. Probably more than him shaving.
Twenty minutes later, they were in a two-bedroom suite right on the beach. She’d already popped open two beers and handed him one. “Cheers,” she said, tipping her can against his and taking a long drink.
“I’m taking a shower,” he said, lifting the can to his mouth without drinking. He had to stay in control. He could see how much she needed this, and he had, after all, encouraged her to fall free. And had promised to catch her. “Why don’t you take one, too?”
She came close and slung her arms over his shoulders. “With you?”
“Oh, no, baby, I’m not that strong.” Of course, all he could think about was holding her naked in the stream of water. He tipped her chin up, looking into those hot-chocolate eyes. “You take a shower in your room.” He pushed a bottle of water into one hand as he took the beer from her other. “Drink some water. You’ll thank me in the morning. Now go.” He marched her toward her room, then turned on the shower.
“I feel so dirty!” she said from behind him, and he turned to find her pulling up her shirt. “All that dancing and shopping, and—”
He quickly stepped up and stilled her arms before she’d pulled it off. Which left their bodies plastered against each other. Hopefully she was too drunk to notice his raging erection. “Grace,” he said.
Falling Free ( Falling Fast #3) Page 13
