by Janice Lynn
Standing from the bed, he sighed with an exaggerated heave of his chest, determined to keep the mood light. She had enough on her plate tonight without having to deal with his unwanted sexual attraction. “If you refuse to stay here and let me see how few seconds it takes to get that dress off you, then let’s go before I do my best to change your mind.”
Her eyes gleaming with delight, she moved to the end of the bed. Her hips swayed, courtesy of her heels. “You’re good for a girl’s ego.”
“That’s me. Nice, and an ego booster.”
“Don’t make my compliment sound like a bad thing,” she admonished, checking her appearance in the mirror. “It’s not.”
“Because that’s how every man wants a beautiful woman to think of him. Nice, and her personal ego-fluffer.”
She laughed nervously, smoothed her hands over her skirt. “We’re alone, Blake. You don’t have to say things like that.”
He eyed her curiously, wondering at her uneasiness. “Like what?”
“That I’m beautiful.” She looked away, pink tingeing her cheeks. “Or that you want to get me out of my dress. You don’t have to pretend when we’re alone. Actually, I wish you wouldn’t, because when you do I start believing things that aren’t true.”
Pretend? Was she kidding?
He walked around the bed, lifted her chin to force her gaze to his. Staring down into her blue eyes, he resisted the urge to kiss her until there was no doubt about what was pretense and what wasn’t.
Instead, he stroked his finger along her jawbone, caressing her delicate features. He turned her toward the dresser, toward their reflection in the mirror. He stood directly behind her, close enough to feel her body heat, close enough to tease his senses with the brush of her dress against him. He was so hard he hurt, but this wasn’t about him. This was about Darby.
Even with her high-rise shoes, she barely came up past his chin, but they looked good together—her blonde, blue-eyed perfection next to his dark Italian features.
“Look in the mirror, Darby,” he urged, his gaze locked with hers. “See the woman I see. She’s beautiful. Every red-blooded male is going to envy me tonight because they’ll all know you’ll be coming back here with me.” He placed his hand on her bare shoulder, his fingers stroking over her soft skin, toying with the thin blue spaghetti strap of her dress. “You are a beautiful, intelligent, witty, desirable woman, and any man would count himself lucky to know you. I do.”
Wordlessly, she stared at their reflection, her eyes big, blue, searching his. She swallowed, inhaled a quick breath, and her lips parted. “Blake, I—”
He couldn’t breathe, thought he might suffocate at the heaviness that had come over his chest with his admission, with the way Darby was looking at him with a mixture of confusion and desire.
In that moment he knew he had to get out of the hotel, away from the queen-sized bed that called to him. He had to get air. Now.
Otherwise he’d forget thousands of years of human refinement, go Neanderthal, scoop Darby into his arms, and take what his every instinct dictated he possess.
“Come on, Dilly.” He grabbed her wrist. “Let’s go get this charade over with.”
Before he forgot to be nice and was as bad as he wanted to be.
“We sure could use a doctor in town,” the slightly over-weight brunette intoned, giving Darby a dramatic look as they talked over the band playing Lynyrd Skynyrd in the background. “Just think what might have happened to poor Bobby’s arm if you hadn’t been here. Cindy said the doctor told her what a great job you did splinting his arm. Thank goodness you were here.”
Darby smiled at Leah. They’d known each other since grammar school, but had never been close friends. The closest friend she’d ever had had stabbed her in the back. Over Trey.
“I second that,” a tall, nice-looking man said, stepping up to where they talked. He shifted his beer to his other hand and stuck his hand out to her, then to Blake. “Mark Lytle—nice to meet you. Hey, Leah.”
Darby shook his hand, trying to place him in her memory and coming up blank.
Seeing her confusion, he grinned. “I’m the local vet—moved here from Texas a few years back when Doc Tatum retired.”
“Mark Lytle,” she repeated, the name registering. She recalled her family mentioning him.
“I’m here with Debbie Earnhart. She’s working the registration desk,” he said, a friendly smile on his face. “Although it’s definitely outside what I was trained to do, I’m forced to take care of minor human problems more often than you’d believe. Tell me how I can convince you to set up practice here.”
Darby didn’t say anything at first. Mostly because she didn’t know what to say. She’d spent most of her teenage years wanting to get away from Armadillo Lake, yet in this moment she struggled to remember why, when her hometown really did need better access to healthcare. Her own mother would have to go out of town to have her shingles checked, and Carla had almost delivered in the back seat of John’s truck because the closest doctor had been miles away.
“If I ever decide to relocate, I’ll keep your offer in mind.” Hopefully hiding her discomfort, she smiled. “Did you buy out old Doc Tatum’s vet office?”
As she’d hoped, the conversation turned to Mark’s animal health clinic. Several other couples joined them.
Blake stayed close to her side, attentive to her every need. His palm pressed low on her back in both possession and in reassurance that she could do this, had nothing to fear, and that he thought she was beautiful.
He didn’t have to say the words again.
She could see the truth in his eyes when he looked at her. Blake thought she was beautiful. On that, he wasn’t pretending.
That alone kept a smile on her face, made her aware of his nearness at all times.
They made conversation with couples, ate buffet-style finger foods, and mingled—but all the while sexual tension sizzled between them, arcing higher and higher each time their gazes met, each time their fingers brushed against the other.
Tension that had been slowly building from the moment she’d asked him to pretend to be in love with her. Tension that had twisted her body into knots at waking curled against his body. Tension that had mounted during his possessive claim of her mouth under the oak tree. Tension that threatened to explode if he didn’t quit looking at her as if he wanted to lick her from head to toe.
A commotion at the front of the room had Darby glancing that way. Mandy and Trey. Together. Homecoming Queen and King. Head cheerleader and star quarterback. Former best friend and former major crush.
For weeks she’d thought the sight of seeing them would be like taking a bullet to the heart. Surprisingly, she’d felt more regret over wasted time and heartache. During high school she’d lost her best friend—and over what? A guy. Okay, so when she’d been sixteen Trey had seemed like much more than just a guy, but what had she known back then? Not much.
Funny how time changed things.
Like her relationship with Blake.
Because this weekend had changed things between them.
When he’d kissed her earlier she’d burned right down to her toes. She’d dreamed of him kissing her for years and now he really had. When she’d stared at her and Blake’s reflections in the mirror she’d wanted him to kiss her again. She wanted him to kiss her now.
She wanted Blake in a way she’d never wanted anyone. She’d been attracted to him for years, but had always known he was a playboy at heart, had wanted more than what he gave to other woman. She’d settled to have him as her friend and partner, something he had reserved just for her. But this weekend, having his attention targeted on her, having him look at her with love in his eyes—well, she’d started believing the lies and wanting Blake’s heart, wanting it badly enough that she wondered how she’d ever go back to the way things were if that was what Blake wanted.
“Darby?” He followed the direction of her gaze, cupped her elbow a bit too tight. “Are you ok
ay?”
“I’m fine,” she lied, knowing that if she ruined her relationship with Blake she’d never really be fine again. “I wasn’t expecting to see them together.”
Which was better than saying, I wasn’t expecting to want you even more than I already did—wasn’t expecting to believe in your pretense of loving me since I know that’s what it is—wasn’t expecting to want to throw caution to the wind just because I can see you really do want to have sex with me.
When Mandy’s gaze connected with Darby’s, she made a beeline toward them. Her glittery gold and brown dress hugged her trim figure as she smiled and waved. “I want to thank you for what you did for my cousin’s little Bobby today.”
Keeping a forced friendly expression plastered on her face, Darby nodded. “You’re welcome. How is he?”
Mandy stood, looking gorgeous, but also equally awkward.
“Asleep.” She sighed, giving a little shake of her beauty-salon-styled hair. “Cindy is with him. As part of the reunion committee she did a lot of work, trying to make this shindig a success. She shouldn’t miss out on everything when Bobby is so sedated he won’t know whether she’s there or not.”
Had it been her son lying in that hospital bed, Darby wouldn’t have left him.
Her son?
Her blood pooled at her feet, leaving her light-headed. Where had that thought come from? Medicine had been her dream, the only one she’d ever given serious thought to after Trey. So why were there suddenly visions of dark-eyed, dark-haired toddlers dancing through her mind?
Mandy prattled on, looking almost as if she wasn’t sure what to say next. She kept her smile in place, kept talking in her sweetest Southern twang. “But look at you.” She motioned to Darby. “You always did want to be a doctor and now you are one, and you knew just the right thing to do when Bobby fell. You must be so proud.”
Darby expected a “bless your heart” to hit her any moment. Why was Mandy being nice?
Unsure of her swirling emotions, Darby started to take a step back, but Blake’s hand kept her in place, burned through the material of her dress, singeing her with reassurance that he was there if she needed him, that she needed to stand her ground.
Was she misreading the hope in Mandy’s brown eyes?
“I only left the hospital a little while ago—had to get my hair done.” She glanced at the blonde bangs hanging over her eyes. “The doctor said you did a fantastic job caring for Bobby. We were lucky you were here. You really should come home.”
Armadillo Lake did need a doctor. Desperately.
But not her.
After a too-long silent stretch, Mandy gave a little wave of her fingers, and shot Blake an overly bright smile. “Well, I should mingle. After all, I was student body president and I am supposed to be the hostess.”
Unsure what to think about the exchange, Darby watched Mandy blend into the crowd.
“Unbelievable,” Blake breathed close to her ear. “She was trying to talk to you, and you cut her off. It’s obvious she has regrets.”
Turning toward him, Darby scowled. “Have you forgotten what she did to me?”
“No.” His dark eyes cut into her. “I can’t forget, because you won’t tell me what she did. Why did you cut her down?”
Was he yet again taking Mandy’s side? Were men so easily fooled by a pretty face? Was she forever to have her date defend Mandy? Would Blake leave the prom—the reunion—with Mandy, too?
Moisture pooled in her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks. She wouldn’t cry. Not because of the past. Not because of whatever emotions ran through her, making her want to cling to Blake and beg him never to leave her, to never destroy her trust the way she’d been shattered at sixteen.
Which she would never do. Never again would she be so humiliated, so hurt by a man.
Not even Blake.
“Why don’t you just butt out of things that aren’t any of your business?” she bit out, needing to put distance between them, needing to lash out at the sting she’d felt at his defense of Mandy. She spun to go in search of something to drink, and bumped into Trey near the bar.
“Hey, babe.” He took a swig from the bottle of beer he held. “That was cool of you today with Bobby.”
Still brewing over what Blake had said, she absently waved off Trey’s praise. “It was no big deal—just what I do.”
“Yeah, but not something most people can do—save someone’s life. I’m impressed.”
She blinked up at him. “I quit trying to impress you years ago.” She hadn’t really, she realized. Because every man she met, every man she dated, she saw through the pain she’d suffered at Trey’s hands, saw without being able to trust in their words, their feelings for her.
“I’ve always felt bad about what happened.” He glanced down at the drink in his hand, picked at the silver label with his fingernail. “But I didn’t know how to tell you I was sorry. I wanted to, thought about it a million times, but finding the words to apologize for something like that wasn’t something I seemed able to do.”
“A simple ‘I’m sorry’ would have done.”
“I’m sorry.” He grinned, and she had a flash of remembrance of what she’d found so appealing about him. “Forgive me?”
Trey had only asked her out to get back with Mandy. It had worked. Whatever differences had split them up, when Mandy and another guy had pulled up to the lookout point, overlooking the lake, Trey, Darby’s date—the guy she’d been making out with, planned to go all the way with—had jumped out of his car, punched Mandy’s date and made up with her, leaving Darby to find her own way home.
“To be honest,” he continued, “you scared the hell out of me. You were so smart, and knew exactly what you wanted out of life. I liked you, but felt like a goofy kid next to you.” He sighed. “Then there was Mandy.”
Yes, there had been Mandy—who had fallen for Trey at the same time Darby had. They’d idolized him from afar for years. When they’d been fifteen, Trey had fallen for Mandy. In the fallout, Mandy had dumped her friendship with Darby. It had only been when his relationship with Mandy had gone sour that he’d asked Darby out.
“I loved her, you know.” He gave a self-deprecating shrug. “I admit what I did to you was wrong, was a sorry thing to do, but I never meant to hurt you that night.”
No, he’d only meant to take everything she’d been willing to give—her virginity, her love, her wide-eyed trust—and then walk away the moment he and Mandy worked things out. Which they’d done.
Still, looking into Trey’s sincere eyes, she did believe him. He’d been seventeen and a typical teenaged boy. Was it his fault she’d taken his loosely spoken words of affection to heart?
“Okay, I believe you didn’t intentionally hurt me.”
“Great. Let me buy you a drink. Friend to friend.”
They weren’t friends, and likely never would be. But her emotions were ragged from Mandy, Blake, and even from Trey. From the whole weekend. What would one drink hurt? It was what she’d come over here for, needing to escape the disapproval in Blake’s eyes. He’d sided with Mandy. Didn’t men always side with the Mandys of the world?
She shot a quick glance toward Blake. He sat at their table, his expression as dark as his eyes. He didn’t have to crook his finger for her to know he wanted her back at their table, away from Trey. Not this time. This time her date would come to her, would claim her.
She lifted her chin and smiled at Trey. “Why not? I think you owe me a few.”
“That I do.” His gaze raked over her face and he grinned lazily. “And I intend to pay up in spades.”
For the second time that day Blake interrupted Trey Nix making moves on his woman. “I’m cutting in.”
“I don’t want you to cut in,” Darby argued, clinging to Nix’s shoulders.
“Quit lying. The only reason you’re on the dance floor is so I’d cut in.”
Blake had stayed in the background, letting her stew on what had transpired between
her and Mandy and come to realize she’d been the one to ask him to butt into her business by pretending to be in love with her in the first place.
Butt out of her business? Had she forgotten who’d invited whom?
He’d watched her down drink after drink with her first love, watched her glare defiantly, daring Blake to come get her, then flirt with Nix. He’d forced himself to wait for her to come to her senses, to be patient, but when she had gone into the other man’s arms on the dance floor Blake had had enough, and butted into her life yet again.
Darby frowned.
Blake frowned right back, tugging her with enough force to unplaster her from Nix on the dance floor.
“Darby?” Trey said, lines creasing his forehead.
“Hold on a minute, Trey.” She held up her fingers, then turned to Blake. “Maybe you should go find a friend to dance with and leave me alone.”
“No more games, Darby. We both know who you came with tonight, and who you’re leaving with. Me.” He pulled her to him, holding her close so there was no doubt about who he meant.
“Are you so sure about that?” Her eyes flickered with annoyance, then softened, a smile curving her lips. “Did you just growl at me?”
He glanced into her happy eyes—eyes that made him want to dive into their unknown blue depths. “I growled. So sue me.”
“You’re a doctor—you should never say that,” she warned, laughter spilling from her painted pink lips as she waved goodbye to Nix, where he still stood. Her gaze returned to Blake and she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Should never offer things you don’t mean. Someone might take you up.”
He inhaled her sweet scent. The fresh, light floral fragrance had been teasing him all night, making him want to lean in, making him hungry. Starved.
“You should never rub against a man who wants to kiss you, because he might take you up on your offer.”
