Allister, J. Rose - Displaced Cowboys [Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by J. Rose Allister

  He inhaled deeply at that, and when his eyes fluttered, she got the distinct impression that her upholstery wasn’t what was invigorating his senses. His gaze fell on her, glittering with something that made her want to jump out of the car. “That’s a scent I thought I’d never pick up on, and yet it finds me here when I least expect it.”

  The flare of heat sparked inside her again even before he thrust a hand out at her. “Connor James Darach, at your service.”

  She hesitated, glancing at the offered hand in suspicion. Part of her feared she would get burned if she touched him. His smell enveloped her, damp and musky, with no cologne or anything but pure maleness. She managed to inhale it without her eyes fluttering like his had done, but she practically felt her pituitary gland releasing hormones into her bloodstream. This would not help her driving skills.

  Setting her jaw to steel herself, she took his hand and tried to ignore the way his touch left her stomach simultaneously sinking and floating. “Terra Marie Benson. Though I’d say I’m the one servicing you at the moment.”

  The last part of the remark sizzled as it flew off her tongue, and her eyes flew wide. Good God, had she just said that? She yanked her hand away, cursing herself mentally.

  A bare hint of a smile touched his lips. “I suppose that’s true enough at the moment. I’ll gladly pay you for your gas and trouble, though.”

  He reached behind him for his wallet, but she shook her head. “I couldn’t. You’re out of work, and I was heading this way anyway. Don’t worry about it.”

  Before he could reply, she turned back to the road and hit the gas pedal, aware of his eyes on her while she eased the car around the harrowing curves that seemed even more daunting now that the road was thoroughly wet and her concentration equally shot. When the winding road straightened for a merciful stretch, she forced a slightly shaking hand off the steering wheel and pushed a stray lock of hair away from her face.

  The damn car was getting too hot for her again, but it would look ridiculous to switch on the air conditioner or roll down the window again in this weather. He was probably chilled to the bone from hitchhiking, and blasting him with cold air would give him the pneumonia she’d been trying to stave off. She’d just have to suffer.

  And suffer she did. A slow burn spread all the way from her legs to the top of her head, and her sweater itched on her chest and back where another sweat was breaking out. Wasn’t spontaneous combustion a mere myth? She tugged on the front of the emerald-colored scarf hugging her throat, loosening the knot.

  Another curve approached. She forced out a breath and clamped her hands even tighter on the wheel as she slowed the car and wished her pulse would do the same. The rapid beating was making her dizzy.

  “Is somethin’ wrong, Terra?” Connor asked. “You look a mite tense.”

  The sound of her name on his lips sent a quiver through her stomach. “I’m a tense person.”

  “Yeah. I’m gettin’ that.”

  The curve tightened harder than she anticipated, and so did her stomach. She turned the wheel over too far, overcorrecting into the turn. A spike of panic hit when she felt the rear tires begin to fishtail. She hit the brake, and the skid grew wider.

  “Oh, God!” she exclaimed.

  “Let off the brake,” Connor said, his voice the epitome of calm even as he braced a hand on the dashboard. “Turn the wheel so you’re steerin’ into the skid.”

  “I know.” She gritted her teeth and did what she was told, fighting an overwhelming urge to stomp on the brake and spin the car out entirely.

  Luckily, the car hugged the ground nicely, and her maneuvers quickly righted it. Nevertheless, as soon as they were safely out of the turn, she pulled over to the side of the road, panting and shaken. “Jesus,” she breathed, raking a quivering hand through her hair. “I’m so sorry about that.”

  “Do you want me to drive?”

  She shook her head. “No,” she snapped. “I can do it myself.” She immediately regretted the bitchy tone. Wiping her damp palms on her jeans, she turned to him. “Sorry for being such a lousy chauffeur. You probably want to jump out and run, and I don’t blame you.”

  “You’ll find I don’t jump and run easy. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Apparently she wasn’t, because the truth blurted out of her unbidden. “It’s just that I’m feeling so damn hot all of a sudden that my nerves are on edge. It’s like I’m going to burst into flames. Plus it’s the first time I’ve been on a long drive since, well, quite a while.”

  She groaned inwardly at the sudden information dump. Hell, why not give him her social security number while she was at it? Here she’d been scared of letting a stranger into her car, but she hadn’t considered that he had more reason to be leery of the crazy woman driver beside him.

  Connor regarded her with a wary caution that lit up the gold flecks in his eyes. “It’s all right,” he said, the deep tenor of his tone dropping into a silken rhythm that almost lulled her into believing him. The feel of his hand dropping onto her thigh, however, did the exact opposite.

  Electric chills shot along her spine and between her legs, which didn’t help her current predicament one bit.

  “Just relax and sit a spell until you’re ready,” he said. “I ain’t in no hurry.”

  Relax with him around? The hand vacated her leg as suddenly as it had appeared, but she could still feel the hot weight of it searing right through her jeans.

  She sat for another moment, staring at the frantic motion of the wiper blades, before shifting in her seat and taking hold of the wheel. “I’m fine.”

  They headed out again in silence, but the pounding pulse in her throat and rising body heat ratcheted higher until she wanted to scream. Finally, she spat out, “Do you mind if I turn on the air conditioning?”

  “Not at all. It’s your car.”

  “I don’t want you catching cold after you’ve been out in the rain,” she went on, amazed what a blithering idiot she’d become.

  Her hand fumbled with the unfamiliar temperature dials while she tried to keep her attention on the road.

  “Here, let me,” he said, and their hands brushed when he reached forward to the controls. Their flesh barely grazed, yet a fiery tingle shot up her arm that sparked an audible gasp. She pulled back as though she’d been electrocuted, not that this was entirely untrue.

  Moments later, she sighed in relief when blessed cool air poured out of the vent.

  “Thanks,” she breathed.

  “It feels good,” he said, tugging at the neckline of his tight sweater. “It’s not only you, you know.”

  “Not only me what?”

  “Feelin’ that heat.”

  There was something forbidden in his tone, but his face was impassive when she glanced at him. “Guess new leather interior gets hot,” she ventured.

  “How old are you?” he asked.

  She started at the sudden shift in subject. “I’m old enough to drive, if that’s what you’re afraid of.” Both a car and his stick shift, thank you very much. Although she wasn’t entirely sure which one he was wondering about. Her pulse flickered at the thought.

  “Are you eighteen?”

  Terra stiffened. “I’m twenty-one. It’s my birthday today, actually.”

  Why was she humoring him? These were questions that, considering his prior comment and his hand on her leg, should have her ready to push him out the door. Instead, she twirled a finger in the air, and a ridiculous giggle burst out. “Yippee, I know. Birthday.”

  He shook his head. “Twenty-one? Honestly?” His tone held a note of open skepticism.

  She couldn’t stop smiling and wondered why she was acting as blonde as she actually was. “Why, don’t I look it?”

  “You ain’t twenty-one. There’s no way.”

  A frown dampened her giddy grin. “What are you, a bartender? I feel like I’m being carded for beer.”

  “Let me see your eyes.”

  “My what?”


  “Stop the car.”

  She let out a barely restrained snort even while wondering why this was so damned funny. “I swear, officer, I haven’t been drinking. Jesus, my driving isn’t that bad.”

  “Your drivin’ ain’t the issue. But it’s about to be.”

  “You aren’t making any sense.” Not that anything about her day today did. That prompted another misplaced laugh.

  Connor scowled. “I mean it, Terra. Stop now.”

  She giggled again and rolled the eyes he was so desperate to look at. “Fine.”

  Soon they were yet again shouldered on the road, and her idiotic grin faded when Connor took hold of both sides of her face with his hands and leaned close—too close—to stare into her eyes. She felt his hot breath fanning her lips, and hers whooshed out in an uneven cadence during the endless moments of that stare. Something was way wrong with her, because she watched the compelling gold speckles in his eyes sparkle and spread out until the blue began to fade.

  His eyes drifted down to her mouth, and she unconsciously licked her lips. His head dipped closer, until his full, erotic mouth was maddeningly close to hers. Please, she shouted in her mind. Please kiss me until I lose my mind. Not that she hadn’t already.

  Her lips tingled with anticipation as she waited for the kiss she shouldn’t allow. There was stranger danger and all that. She should order him out of the car. The spinning thrill in her stomach sped up until she wanted to laugh or jump off the ride, she couldn’t decide which. Her eyes widened when his lips moved to scant millimeters from hers, and he closed his eyes and hovered there for a long moment. After several pounding heartbeats and with what appeared to be reluctance, he grimaced and pulled away. She stifled a groan of disappointment.

  “I thought as much,” he said. “Wide and dark as a midnight ocean.”

  She blinked as he broke the spell. Somewhat. “What are you talking about?”

  “Your eyes. It’s startin’ now, right now. I don’t get it.”

  “Okay, you’re starting to freak me out right now.” She tried for a serious tone that didn’t quite jell with her odd, silly mood. “What’s the matter with my eyes?”

  She yanked down the sun visor and checked her reflection. Her eyes seemed normal to her. They weren’t bloodshot or glowing or spinning around in their sockets. She peered closer. Then again, her pupils were a lot wider than normal. Her purplish-brown irises had been reduced to narrow rings around thick black orbs.

  “Huh,” she said, flipping the visor back up. “That’s weird.”

  “This shouldn’t be happenin’ like this. Not at your age.” His voice was strained. “If you’re tellin’ the truth, that is.”

  “Of course I’m telling the truth,” she snapped. “Do I have to whip out my license to prove I’m twenty-one?”

  He leaned his head back against the headrest and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It is, though. I can feel it happenin’ hard and fast. Shit.”

  “What’s happening? And what’s wrong with you now?”

  Despite her rising concern, a stupid grin plastered itself on her face and wouldn’t budge. A swirling vortex opened in her stomach with the same fluttering feeling she used to get riding the tilt-a-whirl when the carnival came to town. A laugh whooped out of her from nowhere.

  Connor went rigid, and the hand he didn’t have pressed to his nose clenched down on his thigh. Just above it was a ridge she couldn’t help noticing. Shit was right. He was more than just hot—inside and out. He was apparently as turned on as she was. The man’s bulge was ungodly impressive, if she did say so herself. Not that she was actually saying so. But she was damn well thinking it.

  God, what she wouldn’t give to strip off her hot, itchy sweater right about now. What would Mister Cowpoke say if she started driving down the road in just a flimsy bra? She couldn’t help the giggle that slid out at that.

  “That’s it,” he said after a moment. “I’m drivin’. Trade seats with me.”

  “Like hell! This is my new car.”

  “And you’re in no shape to drive it.” Without awaiting her answer, Connor flung his door open and set a booted foot out into the rain that had let up somewhat. Her open-door signal dinged incessantly while he strode around to her side and pulled open hers, too. He stood there and waited, but she stayed firmly entrenched behind the wheel.

  “I said I’m sorry about that curve back there,” she said. “It’s just been a while since I’ve driven, is all.”

  “That’s not all. Don’t worry, I won’t take off with your pretty new car.”

  That was the last thing she’d been worried about. Her mind was stuck in a loop of how deliciously sinful Connor looked, both above the waist and below. She ventured a glimpse at the latter, which was now near eye level as he leaned on the car door. The bulge in his black jeans was still noticeable, though he quickly shielded it from view when he bent down to meet her naughty gaze.

  “If you think this is a ploy to get you out of the car so I can steal it, don’t. I’ll walk with you around to the other side before I get in.”

  “It’s not that. I trust you.” She wondered if that was really true as she swiveled around and planted her feet on the ground. If so, why did she? She didn’t even know this man.

  When she stood up, she teetered unsteadily and stumbled against him. “Oh, crap. Sorry.”

  His strong arms went around her, supporting her against his chest. Damn, how could a man smell so good without even a hint of aftershave on? Despite the cool rain, the fire inside her flared. She felt his hard, obviously muscled body stoking her flames, and her head began a funny whirl.

  “What’s wrong with me?” she asked.

  She’d never been drunk before, but as she pulled out of his intoxicating embrace, she knew for certain it must feel a lot like this. With a frown, she poked a finger into his chest. “You did this.”

  “Me?” The tone sounded convincing, but there was a flash of guilt in his wide eyes.

  Her heart began a sensual rumba. “You must have drugged me.”

  “How could I have drugged you?”

  “I don’t know.” She staggered backward a bit, and her attention dropped to his clenched fists. “It must have been that handshake. You slipped me some kind of skin-absorbing drug through your palm. I knew I felt something strange when you touched me.”

  His gaze held no small amount of humor. “I think you’ve seen too many spy movies. That’s not what’s happenin’. Here, let me help you around the other side.”

  Connor moved toward her, but she held a hand out and stumbled away. “Oh, no. Keep your supernaturally electrified mitts to yourself.”

  “My what?”

  “You heard me.” Leaning on the wet car for support, she slid around the back side while he watched. Sure enough, by the time she made it around to the other side, her head had cleared just a little and she wasn’t as wobbly. She turned her face upward and let the sprinkle of rain mist her cheeks and drive some sense back into her head. To her surprise, it actually started to work.

  “I do feel better now that I got some distance from you,” she said, shooting him a glare. “Interesting coincidence.”

  Remorse clouded his features. “I’m not doin’ anythin’. I swear.”

  “Didn’t your mama teach you not to swear?” She laughed, barely cutting it off when she realized how loopy she still sounded. She might feel better with distance, but she obviously wasn’t cured.

  The pair stared at one another over the roof of the car, neither of them making a move to climb back inside. The rain stopped, and their heavy silence was interrupted by the rubbery-sounding scrape of wipers dragging across the drying windshield.

  Connor leaned in and turned them off. “Are you comin’?”

  She wished. The thought provoked another giggle. “I thought you promised not to leave me here.”

  “Where’d you say you were headed? At this rate, we won’t never get there.”

  “You only asked me to take y
ou as far as nightfall. What’s with that, anyway? What happens at nightfall?”

  “Let’s go,” he said, climbing inside. She wavered a moment, torn between the desire for a clearer head and the need to make sure he didn’t drive off and leave her stranded.

  She dropped back inside the car and yanked the door shut. “By all means. Let’s hurry up and get back on our trip to nowhere.”

  He pulled the car onto the road, expertly navigating the winding turns. Nevertheless, sitting passively in the side seat sent her blood pressure straight through the ceiling. She clenched her teeth hard enough to make her jaw sore, and on the next turn they approached, she gasped and squeezed her eyes shut. She grabbed hold of her seat with both hands and hung on.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, but she just shook her head. “Terra?”

  “Just watch the road, will you?”

  “I am.” He paused. “Are you afraid of the car?”

  “Of course not,” she shot back. Then she softened her tone. “This road might be giving me some hesitation.”

  He muttered a soft curse. “Why didn’t you say so? I’ll slow down.”

  His foot let up on the gas, and she exhaled a sharp breath. Her eyes opened to find his flicking back and forth between her and the road.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  Her hand went to her throat again, pulling on the knot of her scarf. “It’s getting hot in here again.”

  “Yeah.” He flipped on the air.

  “Talk about something else. Take my mind off harrowing mountain terrain.” And the weird dizzy feeling that was slowly overriding her panic. She hardly minded getting rid of the panic, but not by stirring up something that felt even more dangerous.

  He glanced at her. “It’s not me,” he said. “It’s you.”

  “Isn’t that line supposed to work the other way around?”

  “What I mean is, your special chemistry is kickin’ in.”

  She made a face. “My ‘special’ chemistry? Seriously?” She eyed him, trying to guess Connor’s age. He couldn’t be that much older than she was. He was what, twenty-eight at the most? “I did get the womanhood talk when I was in middle school, you know.”