Putz licked her on the chin and she held him against her for a moment, feeling guilty. First, the dog accident and now this. She was a horrible doggie mama.
“You’ll take good care of him."
Zane stared at her, like she’d asked the stupidest question on the planet. He lifted Putz off the table sitting him on the floor. “It’s not the dog’s fault that you left me behind for a modeling job in Dallas.”
“It wasn't a modeling job.”
“Oh, a stripper?”
“That's just mean. I’m a stylist.”
He walked around the examining table, placed both arms on either side of her, effectively blocking her in. A thrill of excitement sent a shiver down her spine. He leaned in close and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. She could feel his breath on her face and tilted her head to receive his mouth, wondering what it would feel like after all this time.
Zane pulled back as if he'd suddenly remembered she was public enemy number one. “Let’s get one thing straight. I’m helping your dog, not you.”
"Thank you, Zane," she said, resisting the urge to reach out and trace his lips with her finger.
The tight lines of tension etched in his face eased. He appeared confused by her kindness and took a step back putting distance between them.
Zane glanced down at his watch. “I’ve got to go. I have a final fitting for my tux in an hour.”
He grabbed Putz's leash. “I’ll let you back into the clinic on Sunday, so you can take him with you when you leave Cupid. You are leaving, right?”
“Sunday. I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me here.”
“I never said that."
"But you thought it," Skye said as she leaned down to rub Putz on the head.
"Don’t forget to pay the receptionist on the way out.”
She turned and walked out the door. The asshole wouldn’t even be a vet if it weren’t for her.
*
Zane watched as Skye left his clinic. She drove off in a new Mustang convertible, its hefty engine roaring out of his parking lot. God, she was even more beautiful than she’d been at eighteen. Large and soft, her emerald eyes still had the power to increase his heart-rate. And her curves had matured into a shapely woman that he ached to explore.
He’d given her his heart, promised to take care of her and love her forever, but when she left town without even saying goodbye, her leaving ripped his tender organ into shreds. At first, he’d refused to go to college, but his mother hadn’t given him any other options. Go to college or move out and get a job.
So he’d driven out of town, leaving Cupid in the rearview mirror to Texas A&M where he’d put his broken heart and soul into becoming a vet.
Now ten years later, he'd returned to Cupid. Skye had returned home at least until Sunday and with her homecoming, the pain of their parting flashed back resurrecting that emptiness in the middle of his chest. Maybe this time, it was his turn to show her how arriving to pick up your bride only to find her gone, ripped your insides into ground heartache. Maybe this time, he should tempt her into his bed and then send her down the road with Cupid in the rearview mirror. With a hole in her heart the size of Texas.
Maybe he should quit acting like an ass and show her he'd become a gentleman.
*
Skye stood just inside Valentino's bar, the only honky tonk in town. She'd reserved twenty seats for the impromptu reunion of friend's and the wedding party. Michelle had invited her to the rehearsal dinner, but she’d refused. She wanted to style her friends hair, do her make-up and watch the wedding from the sidelines. The bigger her role in the wedding party, the more she would have had to interact with Zane. She didn’t want or need any reminders of what they’d lost.
The party arrived with the bride looking exhausted, while the groom smiled. Zane came in behind Ryan and she admired the way he stood tall and handsome, his muscular body nicely filled out his dress jeans and western shirt. She’d forgotten how western wear wrapped a man up in a rugged manly package. On his feet were a pair of Nocona handcrafted boots, a size thirteen. She’d never forgotten.
“Hi,” he said, walking up to her. “Putz sent a lick for you. Do you want it now or later?”
She shook her head at him. “No, thanks.”
“I checked on him before I left tonight. He was resting comfortably, though he seems a little sad.”
Skye closed her eyes, missing her dog. “Poor baby. He'll be okay?”
“Good as new in a few days,” he said moving closer to her.
"I should have made certain the door was closed before I went to take my shower. He's always been curious."
"He probably smelled Sassy and wanted to go check her out."
What in the hell had gotten into him? They were talking like two old friends.
She stared up at him. “Have you been drinking?”
He shrugged. “We had a couple of toasts of champagne tonight, but I'm sober. Why?”
“We're talking like friends.”
A smile spread across his handsome face and even reached his eyes, warming his gaze. “Look, what happened was in the past. We need to move on. How about a truce until after the wedding? Then we can return to hating one another.”
“I don’t hate you,” she said softly, wishing she could tell him how much she still missed him.
“What are you drinking?” he asked, changing the subject.
“White wine. A Pinot Grigio.”
“Very impressive. Living in the big city has turned you into a wine connoisseur.”
“Hardly. I can sip the wine slowly without the alcohol affecting me.”
He grinned. “You couldn't hold your liquor in high school either.”
“I never wanted to,” she said, remembering how she'd refused to drink much, fearing alcohol. Even now she had a healthy respect for liquor.
He nodded. “That’s true. But you remember that night we all went out to the lake and you and I took a blanket and we went around the bend…”
Her cheeks flamed. They’d almost done the deed that night. They’d come very close. If their friends hadn’t found them, she probably would never have left Cupid a virgin.
But later that summer, her parents had been killed and everything changed.
“You’re blushing,” he said, leaning closer to her, his voice low and husky, caressing her.
“No, it’s just warm in here. I thought you were going to order us a glass of wine?” Not really wanting the wine so much as wanting his attention focused on something besides her.
“Coming right up,” he said. He sauntered over to the waitress and ordered their drinks.
God, he still had the power to make her mind stop working. At a mere touch, she wanted to shred her clothes and get naked. What was wrong with her? The man hated her. Thought she’d done him wrong.
There should be a country song written about how Zane had been wronged. Like hell, she'd done him a favor. Kept him from a marriage he would have regretted. A marriage doomed for divorce. A marriage she'd wanted, yet knew the timing was all wrong.
He returned with a glass of wine for her and a bottle of beer for him then sank down next to her. She felt his gaze check her out.
“What are you doing?” she asked, feeling off kilter. He wasn’t acting the way he had this afternoon. He wasn’t acting like she was a wanted criminal and he intended to drag her to jail by her hair.
“I’m just checking out how you’ve changed over the years. You look good,” he said. When his voice held that low timber when they were younger, they’d have been making out soon.
“You don’t appear too shabby yourself.”
“Your hair, though. Gosh I use to run my fingers through those long curls and pull you to me. Remember?”
She wanted to kick him. Of course she remembered. He would hold her head while his lips explored her mouth, turning her muscles into jelly and her insides into a raging inferno.
“I’m a stylist. This cut is the latest fashion,” she
said, ignoring his comment about their past. She took a deep gulp of her wine, needing to cool off. Why couldn't she turn off these memories?
“Yeah, Michelle told me you were doing her and the bridesmaid’s hair and make-up. I can’t wait to see what you do.”
"I work for one of the top salons in Dallas," she said proud of how she'd built up her clientele. Today, she earned a good living.
“Let me get you another class of wine,” he said, leaving to find the waitress.
What was she doing? She needed a clear head to do her best work tomorrow. She needed to show the town that there was more to her than just a sad little orphan girl.
Zane returned to her side and pulled his chair up close to hers. She looked him over. He was up to something. He’d gone from freezing her with his disdain, to turning up the charm. And she’d experienced that charisma before. It could have her near naked in little or no time.
"Are you trying to get me drunk?" she asked.
A smile played at the edges of his mouth. "What if I am?"
"It's not going to work."
A slow lazy grin spread across his face. "We'll see."
They stared at one another in a defiant test of wills as their gazes clashed. Finally she broke off the staring contest. Unsure as to who won.
“How was college?” she asked, not knowing what else to say to him.
“Good. Lots of studying, but I came out all right. And now I have my clinic.”
“Yes, you do,” Skye said, knowing he never would have gotten this far if she’d married him.
He picked up her left hand. “I don’t see a wedding band.”
Skye picked up his left hand. “Right back to you. Why haven’t you married?”
“I got burned really bad right before I left for college. I haven’t trusted women since.”
She stared into his brown eyes, trying to see if he'd forgiven her. “So you became gay?”
He almost spewed his beer. “Hardly. I learned to keep my distance.”
Skye dropped his hand, feeling nervous. She laid her hand on the table and he immediately covered her small one with his. It was a silly childish game they’d played as kids. Who would be the last one on top? She pulled hers out and placed it on top of his. He pulled his hand out and placed it on top of hers.
For a moment she stared at the way his hand covered her smaller one.
“You know some people say that this is foreplay,” he said.
Shivers danced the tango along her spine.
She pulled her gaze away from their hands and stared into the warmth of his whiskey brown eyes. Though things were tense between them, they were still good together.
“How is this foreplay?”
“We’re wrestling with who is going to be on top.”
She laughed. The idea totally ridiculous. “We’re not going to have sex.”
He leaned in closer, grabbed her chair and pulled her in so that her chair was right between his legs. “But we could.”
A hot electrical pulse zipped through her body, causing her breathing to become short and shallow at the idea of the two of them naked in bed together. She picked up the glass of wine and drank from it, letting the cool liquid ease down her throat, trying to find some way to escape the heat the idea of the two of them together created.
She smiled at him. “You hate me.”
He shook his head, leaned in close and nuzzled her neck. She didn’t stop him, though part of her was screaming, make him stop, make him stop, another part of her was saying let him go lower.
“I don’t hate you. I just…let’s not talk about the past. Let’s focus on tonight.”
“But then there’s tomorrow. And you’ll still hate me tomorrow.”
He pulled back, his eyes stared into hers. His finger reached out and trailed down her cheek, in a lingering caress. “Can you just live for the moment? Have you ever thought about how great sex could have been for us? We were young, but you know when we were together, it was explosive between us.”
That internal flame that he always lit glowed through her body, leaving her breathless. He placed his hand in the small of her back and pulled her toward him. She knew he was going to kiss her and she both wanted and dreaded his mouth on hers.
His mouth covered hers. Unable to stop herself, she leaned into him, her body falling back into the rhythm that existed between the two of them. He guided her into his embrace as he traced her lips with his tongue. Her mouth opened for his along with her body as she welcomed him into her arms.
A country ballad about lost love played in the background. Their friends laughed and talked, while their lips got reacquainted.
The kiss ignited the heat that had already been simmering. She pulled away, her lips regretting the absence of his, but they stood in a bar with surrounded by friends. She opened her eyes to meet his heated gaze.
“Let’s go,” he said his voice husky.
She picked up her wine glass, needing a moment to think. If she left with him, they would have sex. He never mentioned he cared about her. If she left with him, she knew she would be taking a huge risk of him destroying her heart. But if she didn't take the chance, wouldn't she regret missing this opportunity?
Wasn’t this what she’d always dreamed of? Hadn’t she wondered what it would be like to have made love to Zane? Was there a chance this night could heal them?
Oh shit. She was risking everything.
She downed the wine. “My car is at the B&B. You’re driving.”
“Let’s go.”
Zane threw money down on the table. They left the bar, their friends gaping at them. They knew what they were doing. They knew they were going to have sex.
*
Zane took her back to his place, unable to face Mabel Underwood. He drove his Ford F150 well over the speed limit, hurrying before Skye changed her mind. Determined to have her and then let her go. This was for tonight only. Tonight would not heal the wounds of their past, but it might even the score.
And answer one of the many questions that had haunted him these last ten years. What would it be like to make love to Skye Brand?
He parked the truck and hurried to open Skye’s door.
“You still live with your mother?”
He laughed. "Hardly. No, she’s living in a retirement center where she dances on Friday nights, plays bingo and goes on senior citizen cruises. She hardly ever visits Cupid.”
For a moment, he feared Skye would back out, and demand he return her to the Cupid's Love Nest. But she marched up the steps to his home, like they were still seventeen.
After opening the door, he turned on the light and led her inside. Not bothering to linger, he grabbed her hand pulling her up the stairs to the master suite.
Upstairs, he didn't waste time and took her into his arms. “Do you want anything to drink?”
“Oh no, I’ve had way more than I should have. I’m here with you.”
For a moment, he stared at her, not moving. “Are you saying that you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t drank?”
“No, I’m saying my better judgment might have won if I had been completely sober.”
His mouth lowered onto hers and he kissed her, his lips moving over hers greedily. He plundered her lips, devouring her with a fierceness he hadn't experienced in years. This is where she should have been ten years ago. Here in his bed, as his wife. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him tightly to her, matching his ardor. Her breasts were crushed against his chest and he wanted her naked in the next five minutes. Too many years had passed and he needed to see her now.
His mouth moved over hers, falling naturally back into a rhythm that existed between the two of them. A rhythm he’d never found with anyone else.
She begin to unbutton his shirt, her mouth never leaving his as her hands found their way to his chest. Her touch was like magic, as her fingers caressed his skin, leaving behind a trail of fire.
The girl he remembered was never this bold. The woman in his
arms went after what she wanted. And she wanted him. With a tug, she yanked his shirt completely out of his pants and undid the button on his jeans. She slipped her hands down inside the front of his pants. A hot branding sensation overcame him as her fingers grasped his penis.
A deep moan escaped his throat. Why did they have this reaction to one another? Why had he never experienced sensual pleasure like this with any other woman? Why only with Skye?
When her hands reached his buttocks, he broke the kiss and stepped back out of her reach.
“Your turn,” he said, and removed her sweater in one swift movement over her head.
She unfastened her jeans, while Zane sank down on the bed and yanked his boots and socks off. Quickly he shed his jeans.
A moment later, he stood before her naked, his penis jutting out proudly before him at full attention.
In lace panties and bra, Skye turned to face him.
“You don’t need this,” he said releasing the clasp of her bra. The garment slide down her arms to reveal her sweet full breasts with pink nipples puckered in a rosy shadow. She slipped her panties down her long legs and then stepped out of them.
God, she was beautiful. Even better than his teenage dreams.
He took her hand and led her to the bed, where he pulled her down beside him needing to feel her naked skin next to his. “We don’t have to worry about parents walking in.”
“Or anyone finding out,” she said softly.
For some strange reason, he glanced at the clock. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
Skye rolled over and threw her leg over his, her foot caressing his skin, while she placed her hand on his penis. “Happy Valentine’s Day to you. Show me if my dreams of us together are as good as the real thing.”
“You dreamed of us together like this?”
She placed her lips around his nipple and nipped him with her teeth. “Oh yes.”
His mouth found hers again. The thought of her dreaming of the two of them together made him want to give her the best night of her life. For so long he'd tried to block her from his mind and his heart. And tonight she was breaking down walls he'd erected years ago, leaving him vulnerable once again.
His fingers found her hardened nipple and he stroked the tip until she moaned with pleasure. Bending over he took her breast in his mouth, pulling at her nipple. With a moan he released her breast and let his hand skim down her naked stomach. When he reached between her legs to the slicken folds of her womanly center, she clung to him as he coaxed her intimately with his fingers.
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