A Charm Like You

by Sharla Lovelace

  “Son-of-a—”

  “I’m texting that and a picture of your license plate to my sister,” I said. “So, if you get any big ideas of killing me, Eagle Scout, keep that in mind.”

  “We may run off the road from blindness,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “But whatever you need to do. Come on.”

  He put a hand on the back of my neck and pulled me with him under the umbrella, walking in sync to his truck. I could feel his heat against my back, and his smell swirled around me. I passed my car and said a little prayer that it would be in tact tomorrow and that my wallet would still be in there. What I really needed to do, as I settled in his front seat, meeting his eyes before he shut the door, was say a prayer for myself.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Charmed,” I said, when he pulled up to the intersection and asked me where to go. I frowned. “God, I hope you aren’t going the other direction, we maybe should have clarified that.”

  He shook his head as he made the turn onto the highway. “I pass Charmed on my way home, it’s all good. My sister lives there now, actually.”

  “Oh yeah?” I said. “What’s her name?” He gave me a sly smile and I rolled my eyes as I pushed his jacket sleeves up to free my hands. “Come on, you’re about to see where I live, my most vulnerable place. Don’t you think we merit names at this point?”

  “I have a friend in the Denning sheriff’s department,” he said on a chuckle, pulling out his phone and waking it up once we got to the highway. He handed it to me. “Find John Matthews.”

  “Okay then,” I said, tempted to look at his favorite contacts or recent calls. I didn’t, though. It wouldn’t be right. I just did the search and handed it back. “John Matthews.”

  He touched the button and laughed at whatever this John person said, and then told him about my car and its location. It dawned on me that he could be setting up grand theft auto, and I’d just handed it to him in addition to my house. But then he asked about kids and work and thanked him for sending the extra parole car, so I guessed it was legit.

  He looked at me when he hung up. I wasn’t looking at him, but I felt it. I ran my fingers through my damp hair that was no longer straight, but curling up from the moisture, and did everything in my power not to cave to the magnet that was his gaze.

  “You don’t trust me,” he said finally.

  I looked at him then, and laughed softly. “You don’t trust me, either.”

  “Touché,” he said, looking back at the road. “There’s something about you, though.”

  Tingles dove from the surface of my skin to down inside the very core of me.

  “Care to elaborate?” I ventured.

  He laughed out loud, a hearty rumble that made me wrap my arms around my middle before something with strings fell out. Jesus, how did this guy affect me like that?

  “No,” he said, still chuckling. “Let’s just say you’re dangerous.”

  It was my turn to laugh out loud, and his head jerked to watch me like he forgot he was driving.

  “I’m dangerous?”

  His eyes stayed focused on me another beat before he chuckled silently and shook his head, staring back at the road.

  “Lethal.”

  I took a long slow breath, careful to keep it quiet and controlled so he wouldn’t hear my insides trembling. No one had had such a physical effect on me in years. Maybe never. Bart—I couldn’t remember how things were with Bart in the beginning, but I didn’t remember intensity like what was coming off this guy in sonic waves.

  He cleared his throat like it was clearing the air. I felt him on that. It definitely needed clearing.

  “Sorry about all that you had to go through with your ex today,” he said finally. “That sucks.”

  There you go. That’ll kill the mood. Good job.

  “Yeah,” I said, averting my gaze out my window, watching the dark landscape zip by. I didn’t want to think about Bart and Dixie. I didn’t care much about them. Them getting married was more embarrassing to me than anything else. The house was the real kick in the gut. And the baby—I shook my head free of it. “Any sucky ex moments in your world?”

  “Mmm,” he said, as though pondering that. “Not in a long time. I’m not even sure where she’s living now. We never had kids, which was—anyway, after a while there was no reason to keep in touch. She did give me problems over the house, though.”

  “Did it go to her?”

  “No, it was my childhood home,” he said. “Left to me and my brother and sister. They weren’t interested in keeping it, so I bought them out.”

  “So, how did your ex have a say?” I asked.

  “We were married when that happened,” he said. “She felt that made it half hers. Which in any other home purchase she’d be right, but—” He stopped and waved a hand. “Anyway, it was an ordeal for a while. She’d had issues with my mother, and I think it was her way of making a point to a dead woman. Basically, I got my house and she got everything else. I was fine with it just to get it over with.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Divorce is fun.”

  I smirked and rubbed my arms, the soft fabric of his jacket rustling against my hands. The subject matter had subdued my nerves, and all I felt was melancholy. Divorce was an evil bitch. You signed up to spend forever with someone you love, and then one day you’re spewing hatred at them, and then the next day you realize it’s been years and you don’t even know where in the world that person is. How sad was that?

  “Did you want kids?” I asked after a while.

  There was a pause in which I could feel the wheels turning. Probably wondering if the crazy girl in his truck could handle the topic.

  “I did,” he said. “Very much. But it wasn’t meant to be.”

  I nodded and stared out my window at the darkness. “I hear you.”

  The Welcome to Charmed sign loomed ahead, along with the road sign announcing the first exit. Wow, had that been thirty minutes?

  “Exit at this next one,” I said.

  He hit the blinker, and the friggin’ butterflies on crack started up in my stomach again. It was like that awkward date thing. Even though this was not a date. No. But that nervousness as a guy drives you home, and you start panicking on what you should or shouldn’t do… It was all there.

  “You okay?” he asked, as he turned into Charmed. “You seem a little tense all of a sudden.”

  I forced a scoff. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  No, I wasn’t. But I should be. There was nothing to be so nervous about. It didn’t matter that electricity was arcing between us like crazy, because even my sex only plan had no business including this guy. There was something else about him, something way, way, way more than what that plan would cover, and… Stop justifying. My key died. He was nice enough to bring me home, that’s all. We shared some personal stories, but still didn’t even know each other’s names. Full stop. The end.

  We drove down the quiet, dark Main Street, past what was becoming the New Blue Grille—the new diner construction, past Graham’s Florist. I noticed he gave it more than a second glance, and I briefly wondered why, but my nerves were drowning out other thoughts. I showed him where to turn instead of giving him street names or my address, reasoning that he’d be less likely to commit it to memory. I was pretty sure he was harmless by now, but my dad’s voice still tapped in my ear, telling me not to be reckless.

  “Left up here and all the way to the end,” I said, swallowing hard.

  We turned and made the winding journey down my street, past the other houses, all the way down to my corner that boasted a beautiful grove of magnolia trees and tried to go around a curve but stopped as though the street designers gave up and went home.

  “You have reached your destination,” I said, chuckling and unfastening my seat belt.

  “This is your house?�
�� he asked, looking over his shoulder where we’d come. “You’re kind of isolated from the neighborhood with these trees.”

  “Yeah, we—kind of liked it that way,” I said. “Or my ex did. He didn’t like the neighbors much.”

  “And all the tall bushes in front?” he said, peering around me through the rain-streaked windows. “You have to walk around that to get to the front door?”

  “Well, I don’t normally go in this way,” I said, pointing. “I usually have a garage door opener and come in the back.”

  He sat back and looked at me. “You need to consider changing this up now.”

  I blinked and chuckled. “Are you kidding?”

  “You’re a single woman,” he said. “There are too many hiding places here for assholes wanting to target you.”

  “I’m losing this house in five days,” I said.

  He dropped his head and a warm hand landed on mine.

  “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, blowing out a breath as he shook his head. “Damn it, I’m sorry, I forgot, and even at that I overstepped. It’s a bad habit of mine, one I’m trying to kick.”

  I licked my lips. “What is?”

  “Taking care of people.”

  I raised an eyebrow, cooling down the defense that had come boiling to the surface in a microsecond. Yeah, maybe I knew a little bit about bad auto-responses that needed kicking.

  “That’s a bad thing?”

  “Sometimes,” he said. “Especially when it’s not asked for.” He let go of my hand to tap on the steering wheel. “That’s been my role since I was a kid, and sometimes I forget that it’s not always my job.”

  Something in his words, in that admission, went straight to my heart. Goose bumps and everything. Maybe it was the rain. Maybe it was the heat fogging up the windows. It was foreign, and breathtaking, and before the alarm bells could go off and snap me out of the reverie, I turned in my seat and put a hand on his arm.

  “Taking care of me tonight wasn’t a bad thing,” I said, quirking a smile. He turned to look at me, and my stomach contracted. I couldn’t see his eyes well in the dark, but I sure as hell felt them. “You don’t need to school me on landscaping, no, but you tried to fix my key, you came back with a towel and a jacket, you brought me home.” I laughed, pulling the jacket off my shoulders.

  “Nah,” he said softly, tugging the collar back up around my neck. “It’s cold and wet out there, hang on to it.” There was something soft in his voice that made my breath stop. “I’ll get it back from you next week.”

  His fingers brushed my ear, paused, and then my jawline, and everything stopped.

  Breathing. Logic. Time.

  My heart slammed against my chest as his fingers lingered, frozen, as if they couldn’t pull away. I couldn’t see his expression, but every other sensation went on hyper mode. The sharp inhale I could hear in his chest. The electricity from his fingers on my skin, moving slowly, his thumb starting tiny circles just under my jaw. His scent, filling my senses so deeply I could almost taste him. I licked my bottom lip in reflex and let out a shaky breath.

  Everything in my body wanted to touch him back, just as everything in my brain whined that this—this was not—shit, I couldn’t remember what it wasn’t.

  “I—um—”

  “Should probably go in now,” he finished for me, his voice thick and God-help-me sexy. “Before—”

  I nodded slightly, drunk on the path his thumb was taking. “Before—” I whispered, just as that thumb moved up to trace my lips and all my blood fled south. Common sense was gone. Anything smart or—anything—was gone. My tongue darted across his thumb all of its own accord, and his responding groan sent me over the edge.

  I reached for him, just as he wound his fingers into the back of my hair and pulled my head to his.

  I sucked in a breath as our mouths met, hot and hungry. It was dizzying and strange, exhilarating and delicious, tasting this man on my lips, diving into his mouth like my life depended on it while he tried to pull me to him. Zip went his seat belt. His right hand fumbled with folding the center console out of the way as I did my best to crawl across the space while kissing him with all that I had.

  He banged his knee on the door, awkwardly shoving his seat farther back from the steering wheel, and strong hands pulled me the rest of the way to straddle him, knocking my head against the ceiling in the process.

  “Sorry,” he breathed against my mouth, his lips leaving mine then to travel down my neck, his hands pulling me tightly against him as they caressed my thighs and gripped my ass.

  “Oh, God,” I moaned. I could care less about my head. It could fall off for all I cared at that moment. All that mattered was the G-force pulling me to one central place as the rain pounded the windshield and thunder shook the ground. Just sex. Here’s your just sex, Gabi. And it felt glorious. I slid my fingers under the neck of his shirt, feeling every muscle in his shoulders, leaning back to give him better access, moving harder against the massive rock between my legs. I couldn’t stop. The friction was landing in the—holy fuck—most perfect place, and his mouth was hot and wet and now teasing my cleavage.

  “Fuck,” he cursed against my skin as I moved. “Keep doing that, and—” His hands slid from my ass, up under my sweater—which was still under his jacket. It didn’t matter. With one flick of his fingers, my lacy little bra was history and my breasts filled his hands. With a groan, he squeezed and ran his thumbs over my sensitive nipples.

  A cry of primal need escaped my throat, one I hadn’t heard in years. My body arched into him, my thighs tightening, my core building something almost foreign inside me. When his fingers trailed down to unzip my jeans, I nearly came from the anticipation.

  I wanted this. I wanted all of this. I fumbled with the button on his jeans, making him suck in a breath through his teeth as I tugged the zipper down his raging hard-on. I didn’t know how the logistics were going to work but when his hands slid under my jeans to grope my bare ass and pull me tighter against him, I didn’t care how wrong—

  A godawfully loud noise made me jump as my ass hit the steering wheel, landing on the horn.

  “Shit!” The overcompensation made me hit it again and for longer. “Damn it!” I lunged at him to get off of it, and his seat back jerked downward about a foot.

  The rumble of his laugh vibrated through my body as he wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in my chest. Something was still very needy and throbbing down below, and we were both breathing like we’d run a marathon, but his laughter was contagious. I hugged his head and laughed into his hair, and he looked up at me as I held his face in my hands. I felt a tad ridiculous, like a teenage girl getting caught making out with my boyfriend. Except that I was double that age, he wasn’t my boyfriend, and I was possibly insane.

  “I remember this being easier, somehow,” he said, a smile in his voice. “I don’t remember how I got anyone’s pants off like this. Including mine.”

  “I don’t think I ever quite tried this move,” I said.

  “Well, then I’m honored to be the one to—”

  “Don’t finish that sentence,” I said, as he laughed again and I lowered my mouth to his, kissing him slowly, softly, teasing his lips with my tongue.

  The volcanic passion had cooled a little with the laughter and talking, the tide of reality causing a shift, but I really didn’t want it to be over yet. Even if that meant—just this. A slower pace, a little sexy intimacy, that thing that I most wanted to avoid. It felt good with him, though. Kissing and touching and exploring with this stranger.

  His lips were soft this time, searching, tasting, his hands moving slow and deliberately on my body, under my clothes. Caressing my ass, toying with my thong, moving to my back and sides and squeezing me to him like a lover. They didn’t breach the front again, and oh my God I wanted them to. It was all I could do not to move his hands wh
ere I needed them. Not to beg him to touch me. To heck with skipping the tease. This tease was the bomb.

  “You feel amazing,” he whispered against my lips, sending a full skin tingle across my body. “Mmm, goose bumps,” he said. “You like that.”

  “I do,” I said, moving my kisses to his ear and running my hand up under his shirt.

  His skin was hot and tight, and all I could think of was licking his abs. He squeezed my ass and pulled me against his hardness as he made a little growling noise.

  “Damn, you make me crazy,” he said under his breath. “I love how you touch me.”

  “Ditto,” I whispered. “Your hands.”

  “My hands?”

  “They’re delicious.” I breathed.

  As if they had a mind of their own and my words spurred them, his hands slid around between us to palm my breasts again and I lost my breath.

  “I want you,” he said, sliding his kisses down the side of my neck. “God, I want you. But I think I’m too old to do the crazy in my truck.”

  It was a hint. I could invite him inside. Really give a fuck-you to Bart, but my house—that was so personal. Where did you think all of this just-sex was going to happen? No-tell motels?

  “Or car,” I said, detouring. I wanted this to continue, I loved the feel of him on me. His mouth. His hands. His everything. I’d forgotten how amazing a man’s touch could be. But I couldn’t bring him in there yet. Not yet.

  “I’m too old for a car?”

  I chuckled. “I’m too old for a car.”

  “Boat, plane, spaceship—”

  “Hey, don’t knock a spaceship bang,” I said, kissing his lips again as his fingers trailed down my belly. “I’d be up for that.”

  “No strings.”

  I backed up a fraction and looked in his eyes, as much as was possible. I couldn’t tell if it was a statement, a question, or just a reiteration of what I’d said in the meeting.

  “No strings,” I echoed, suddenly unsure where that line was. It sure felt a little fuzzy. That was okay, I’d find it again when his mouth wasn’t so damn close.