More Than Anything

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More Than Anything Page 13

by Kimberly Lang


  He has the softest lips. That surprising thought was the first to register. It was nice, almost gentle, and a startling contrast to the strength in the hands holding her in place. And it was frustrating, a teasing taste of what she really wanted, like a cookie held just out of reach.

  She let her hand slide over the strong plane of his chest, down and around to his waist. Declan’s breath caught as her fingers trailed over his ribs, and she was rewarded by being pulled fully against him, causing her to rise up onto her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his shoulders and anchor herself there.

  And then everything changed.

  He’d been holding himself in check, and the full force of his kiss nearly knocked her off her feet as his tongue tangled with hers, making her both dizzy and completely focused on the sensation at the same time. A tug on her hair exposed her neck, giving him access and the taste he’d claimed earlier to want.

  This kiss . . .

  This kiss was . . .

  Mercy.

  Every inch of her skin was alive and tingling where it touched him and needy and screaming where it didn’t. His arms tightened around her, nearly lifting her off her feet, and she brought her hands to his cheeks to force his mouth back to hers for more.

  A lot more.

  She wasn’t a delicate virgin flower prone to swooning, but she could definitely see what caused such things. When Declan finally put her back on her feet, she nearly fell over. His hands on her hips kept her upright until her equilibrium returned, but even then, she wasn’t in a hurry to move. She looked up to see him staring down at her, his hair sticking out in crazy angles from where she’d dragged her hands through it. He was breathing hard, and while his stance looked relaxed, she could feel the tension in him, and his fingers were moving restlessly along the waistband of her jeans.

  And yet she still couldn’t get enough air in her lungs to actually speak. She had to settle for a weak smile in his direction.

  As her heartbeat finally slowed to a steady rhythm, she found her voice. But that didn’t mean she knew what to say. Finally, after it seemed as if they’d been standing there like fused statues for ages, she managed to speak. “You didn’t get to finish your dinner.”

  “This was better. It’s what I really wanted anyway.”

  It wasn’t an eloquent compliment, but the evident sincerity of the statement and the huskiness of his voice were definitely swoon-worthy.

  He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Should we go before we cause a scene?”

  That snapped her out of her impending swoon. Granted, they were off to the side, in the shadows, but they weren’t exactly hidden from anyone. Crap.

  “I think we should.”

  That got her a grin.

  Declan held the door as she got in, then climbed in the driver’s side. The awkwardness descended as she got settled, as if the universe was giving her both the hint and the opportunity to back down.

  “Dinner was good. I like that place.”

  She bit back a laugh. “You didn’t get to eat much. You’ll probably be hungry later.”

  “I’ll be fine. But we should definitely go back sometime. I’d like to see the dessert menu.”

  This was both so normal it bordered on farcical, and so awkward it was about to become painful, but once on the road back to the marina, Declan casually reached over to take hold of her hand, twining his fingers through hers.

  It was sweet, and it felt natural. Almost easy. At the same time, it held a promise, enough to keep her motors running and heighten the anticipation, making the whole thing surreal.

  But it was exciting, too. The close intimacy of the car, the way he was holding her hand, the quiet murmur of the radio, talk of a second date—it was straight out of a how-to-date instruction manual. But that kiss . . . That kiss knocked everything sideways.

  Just-one-of-the-guys Shelby Tanner didn’t get kisses like that. She felt very femme fatale—and a little cheated, actually, by all the other kisses in her life that hadn’t been like that.

  Just the memory of it—hell, she didn’t need memory; she was still floating in the afterglow, still feeling the neediness crawling under her skin, asking for more.

  And she totally wanted more. She could feel her nerves humming as they got closer to the marina, closer to the time she’d be able to get more.

  Declan’s thumb was now stroking her palm, making that neediness worse, honing the edges, and whetting her—

  Why the hell was every single light at the marina on?

  The pleasant musings of her libido stuttered to a stop as Declan turned into the parking lot. The place was lit up like a Christmas tree, and she sure as hell had not left it like that.

  “What’s happened?” Declan asked.

  “I have no idea.” But then she saw the car parked out front, and cold water splashed over what was left of her simmering thoughts. “Damn it, Adam’s here.”

  “Adam?”

  “A cousin.” An annoying, obnoxious cousin with terrible timing. She wrenched open the car door before Declan had the car fully in Park.

  Adam must have heard the car, because he opened the door to the office a second later. “Hey! Where’ve you b—” He stopped, and his eyes widened as Shelby heard Declan’s door close behind her.

  “Out,” she answered. “What are you doing here?”

  Two figures blocked the light behind Adam in the doorway before morphing into Jamie and Eli. Just great. Cupid wound herself through the group, tail wagging, obviously excited to have the whole freakin’ family around.

  “So you went out, huh?” Adam, at least, seemed to find this amusing.

  “Yes. We went to get something to eat.” Once Declan caught up to her, she made introductions. “Declan, this is Adam and my brother, Jamie. You’ve met Eli already.” Since they were well aware of who Declan was, there was no need for an explanation there. There were polite, manly handshakes and sizing ups, and Shelby wanted to pull her hair out. “Again, I ask why you’re here.”

  “We’re looking for Grandpa’s old tackle box,” Jamie answered. “Dad says it’s somewhere in the office. Or maybe the shed.”

  “Do you have to get it right now?” Because there’s sex I could be having at the moment.

  “Gran wants, we fetch,” Adam said cheerfully, making her want to kill him. There was no way he didn’t know how much she didn’t want him here right now, and he was obviously enjoying getting to be a giant wet blanket.

  Declan cleared his throat. “Well, I’d be of no help at all, so I’ll leave you to it. I had a nice time, Shelby. Thanks.” He kept his hands in his pockets and barely nodded his head in her direction as he spoke. Although it was the right move considering the circumstances, it still felt like a bit of a slight. Then he turned to the boys. “Good luck finding it. Good night, everyone.”

  Aaaargh. She could cheerfully strangle all three of them. Maybe Declan, too. But short of telling Adam, Jamie, and Eli that they really needed to get lost so that she could get naked—and that would not go over well—she was stuck. Maybe she could get them out of here quickly . . .

  “Well, let’s find it.” She stomped past Eli, elbowed Jamie out of the way, and scanned the office, picturing the small tackle box in her head and eliminating some places just on size or the fact she knew what was there. Daddy was a bit of a pack rat, though, and there were drawers and at least one storage closet that probably hadn’t been cleaned out in forty years. And the shed was even worse . . .

  She sighed, which got her a look from Jamie. “Why so testy, Shelby? You don’t have to help us look. Go on about your business.”

  Oh I wish. “And just leave you all to dig through stuff, moving it all around where I’ll never find anything again?”

  “We’ll be careful. You’ll never know we were here,” Adam added.

  “So I can sit upstairs and list
en to you all riffle through everything? Yes, that’s a relaxing way to spend my evening.”

  “She’s just pissy because we’ve interrupted her date,” Eli said over his shoulder as he opened a file cabinet.

  That got her looks from both Adam and Jamie.

  “No,” she corrected, “I’m pissy because I don’t come to your homes or offices and dig around in your stuff uninvited and unannounced. It’s called boundaries, people. Respect.” She dragged a step stool over to the storage closet and climbed up to peek at the higher shelves.

  “You were on a date? Really?”

  He didn’t need to sound so damned surprised. Stranger things had happened. She didn’t even turn to look at Jamie as she answered, “I went to dinner.” That wasn’t a lie. She didn’t have to admit that it had also been foreplay. “People have to eat, and it’s not fun to eat alone all the time.”

  “Did he know it was ‘just dinner’?” That deep question came from Eli, of all people.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Hey, I saw him the other night at the Bait Box. The guy is totally into you.”

  Both Jamie and Adam stopped what they were doing to stare at her. “Interesting. And was Shelby into him?” Jamie asked.

  “I think so. She let him drive her home.”

  Adam smiled. “Well, that does explain her current attitude.”

  “Hello, I’m standing right here.”

  “Do you like him, Shel?”

  She nearly fell off the step stool. “What?”

  Eli leaned against the file cabinet and looked at her. “Are you interested in this guy?”

  She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “That’s really none of your business.” She’d tried for aloof and frosty, to put him in his place, but the words came out shaky and defensive at best, and she wanted to lock herself in the closet the second she heard them.

  Adam laughed. “The judges will accept that as a yes.”

  Jamie frowned. “I’m not sure I’m on board with that.”

  “No one really asked you, did they?” Eli rebutted before she could.

  “Pardon me for being a little concerned that my sister is hooking up with some random dude.”

  “I’m not—” She started to deny it but then realized that was exactly what they’d interrupted.

  But Adam was quicker. “What’s the harm if she is?”

  “The harm?” All Jamie needed was some pearls to clutch and he’d be the picture of scandalized affront.

  “Oh, grow up. She’s a big girl.”

  “That’s my sister you’re talking about.”

  “Every woman is someone’s sister,” Adam said. “Don’t be a hypocrite, Jamie. It’s not a good look for you.”

  Okay, now they’re just baiting him. But she couldn’t find her voice to stop this. She simply could not believe this was actually happening.

  They were all talking over each other now, and she wasn’t convinced one of them wasn’t going to take a swing, and then there’d be blood and explanations she’d have to make, and dear God, had one of them just brought up someone’s virginity? Please don’t let that have been about me. She wasn’t sure if she should be outraged or crawling under the desk in embarrassment. Finally, she put two fingers in her mouth and let loose an ear-splitting whistle. Cupid barked twice at the noise, and the boys stopped their squabbling to look at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Enough! Would y’all please stop talking about me like I’m not even here? Or like any of this could possibly be any of your business?”

  “Oh, the professional meddler finally gets a taste of her own medicine, and she doesn’t like it,” Jamie snarked. “The irony just burns. Welcome to our world.”

  And just like that, they were a united front again.

  She rolled her eyes, and there, like a saving grace sent from heaven above, was Grandpa’s tackle box, tucked in with some old ledgers being used as a stand for the electric fan near the window. She grabbed it almost desperately and shoved it into Jamie’s hands. “Here. Mission accomplished. Good night and go away.”

  “So you can get back to your date?”

  “I hate all of you.”

  Eli grinned. “You don’t mean that.”

  “But I did mean ‘go away.’ I’m done with y’all tonight. And if you don’t go, I’m going to call Gran and tell her all about how her rosebushes ended up dead that time.”

  It was a powerful threat, and she knew it. It was her ace in the hole, and it worked like a charm, making all three of them clamp their mouths shut so fast that she nearly laughed and ruined the whole thing.

  Eli cleared his throat. “Good night, Shel. Thanks for finding the tackle box.”

  “Good night, boys.” She forced herself to smile. “Sleep well.”

  The low talk that drifted back to her as they left was unintelligible, but she’d made her point. She wasn’t sure she’d won, necessarily, but she didn’t exactly know what she’d been trying to win, either.

  Calling Cupid back inside, she closed and locked the office door, then made a point of turning off all the exterior lights—including the one in the parking lot—before they were even in Adam’s car.

  It was petty, but so be it.

  Date or not, battling with her very own Three Stooges had ruined her evening, killing the spontaneous and exciting momentum. Now, in the glaring fluorescent lights of the office and the wake of the Tanner boys, her rash enthusiasm seemed a little tawdry.

  She puttered around, putting the things the boys had moved around back into place, but she kept glancing at the big window that faced the slips. Declan was out there, on the Lady Jane. Was he waiting up, expecting her to come rushing down there once her family left? Or had the arrival of the Tanners thrown a wet blanket over his engines as well?

  Damn it. She knew how to be spontaneous and she knew how to be calculating—spontaneous just seemed better somehow when it came to things like this. Not only was it more exciting, but taking the time to be calculating only highlighted the absurdity and the possible pitfalls.

  Declan had been pretty clear what was on offer. And that kiss boded very well for how good he’d be and how much she’d enjoy herself. But being forced to look at that offer soberly and without the chemical reaction muddling her brain made it seem cheap. If she took Declan up on his offer now, she certainly couldn’t claim later that she’d been caught up in the moment.

  Stupid boys. Always ruining her fun.

  Well, she thought, at least they didn’t show up twenty minutes later. A mid-coital arrival of her family . . . She shuddered. It could have been worse.

  But, damn it, tonight could have been a lot better, too. She’d hate to think she walked out on half a plate of crab cakes for nothing.

  Yet she couldn’t help but keep looking out the window.

  The Lady Jane had a light on.

  Chapter 9

  Declan now understood the meaning of the term “cockblocked.” The three Tanners, however unintentionally and accidentally, couldn’t have done a better job if they’d tried.

  He wondered if he’d done the right thing, leaving like that. It was obviously what Shelby’s brother and cousins had wanted him to do, but he’d been trying to take hints from Shelby. Her clear discomfort with finding her family on her doorstep like that had been his cue that his presence wouldn’t be helpful. Or wanted.

  It was frustrating, yes, but disappointing, too. It felt like a genuine loss. The abrupt interruption of the endorphin high left him feeling deflated, empty. He liked Shelby, and the chemistry was potent, unlike anything he’d felt before.

  But then, he’d never met anyone quite like Shelby before, either.

  He flopped onto the couch and toed off his shoes, letting them fall where they may. Then he draped an arm over his eyes. Shelby’s scent still clung to hi
s clothes, causing a spike in his blood pressure each time he inhaled.

  Not that he needed the scent of her to relive it. He could easily remember the taste of her mouth, the texture of her skin, the silk of her hair in his fist. The way she’d melted into him . . . He wasn’t the romantic type, but that had been one amazing kiss.

  But what was he supposed to do now? Try to figure out when the extraneous Tanners had left so he could go back up there? Hang out here and hope Shelby showed up on her own? Accept that the moment was gone and resign himself to another night of Netflix?

  And a really cold shower?

  The thing was, he didn’t know Shelby well enough yet to figure out the correct answer to that question. And the things he did know about her made it impossible for him to guess. She could be both competent and silly, practical and dreamy, turning on a dime. It made her fun to talk to and hang out with, but it also meant he had no idea what she’d do next. Which wouldn’t be necessarily bad—and some might even say made it more exciting—but it made deciding what to do right now next to impossible.

  How long would it take for her to get rid of her family anyway? If he went out on deck, he could see the building easily, maybe watch for the lights to go off inside, but he’d have to either sit out there like a stalker or else pop in and out like a gopher in a hole.

  But even knowing when they left wouldn’t necessarily tell him what he should do. It simply took him back to his earlier unanswered questions of waiting here—possibly for no reason—or going back up to the building—when Shelby may have changed her mind and might object to the equivalent of him showing up for a booty call.

  He had no real reason to dislike the Tanners—and he had to assume their appearance here was simply a coincidence—but that didn’t stop him from being very pissed at them.

  How long had it been? He had no idea. His brain was circling around his frustration with unanswerable questions, and there was no telling how long it’d been spinning. And he hadn’t exactly been checking the clock this evening, either, so he had no idea what time they’d gotten back here.

 

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