eyes riveted to his mouth. Time passed slowly, the only sound in her ear their ragged breaths. Then someone groaned. It could have been Grace. It could have been Matt. In the end it didn’t matter.
His mouth slid over hers and he took possession with a hunger that made her knees go weak. She sagged against him, hands creeping up to his neck and she held him as if her very life depended on it. His kiss was punishing at first, his lips hard. They tangled together angrily. Grace pushing at him with her hands and tugging on his hair.
But then he made a noise that barreled up from deep inside him. It was a sound of hunger and need and passion. It made Grace’s stomach flip, and when his lips gentled…when he slid his tongue just inside to taste her, when he spread small feathery kisses along her bottom lip until he stilled at the corner of her mouth…
She knew something had just changed.
He pulled away and rested his forehead against hers, breathing raggedly. They stood like that for a few more seconds, until his cell pinged again and broke whatever spell it was that had fallen over them.
Mouth bruised, she had to ask. “Who’s Rosie?”
Matt let go of her and that stupid lump was back. She tried to turn from him, her eyes on the ground, but his hand was on her chin and he forced her to look up at him. There was a struggle there—she could see it in his eyes—and when he finally spoke, his voice was thick. Rough. As if he had to force the words out.
“Do you want to meet her?”
Unsure, Grace could only nod.
He paused, as if surprised at her answer. But then his hand slipped to the small of her back and he unlocked the bathroom door. “Okay,” he murmured, his voice low and throaty. “This way.”
They didn’t head back into the bar. Instead Matt’s hand found hers and he led Grace out back into the crisp night air. Out to a large F-150 parked near the dumpsters. They slid inside and the truck roared to life. Matt didn’t hesitate, he put the vehicle in drive and they headed out of the parking lot. She caught sight of her rental as they pulled onto the road. Shit. Josh. She’d text him. Tell him to take a cab to the hotel.
“You sure about this?” Matt asked, taking his foot off the gas.
Grace didn’t have to think. She knew.
“Yes,” she answered softly.
“Okay. Let’s go meet Rosie.”
6
Matt must have lost his mind. Really and truly lost his freaking mind. What the hell was he thinking bringing Grace back to his place? Hadn’t he planned on giving her the pleasure of telling him off so that they could both leave that night in Nashville behind?
He cranked the tunes and tried to settle back and relax, but the snow-filled night sky, the lonely stretch of road, and the woman beside him made that pretty difficult. He clamped his mouth shut and blew out a long breath. Hell, when was the last time he’d even brought a woman home?
He couldn’t remember—that’s how long it was—and if he were smart he’d turn his truck around and take her back to town. What was it about this girl that got to him? Sure she was easy on the eyes, with a body that didn’t quit and a mind as sharp as they came. But he’d been with plenty of women who were cute or sexy or sharp.
And yet Grace Simon was different.
When he’d glimpsed the hurt in her eyes, hurt that had been put there by him, something strange had happened. He’d wanted to make it go away. He’d wanted her to know that he wasn’t always the cold bastard everyone thought him to be.
And now here he was, with Grace Simon in his truck and he had no idea where this was going.
Shit.
He pulled onto McClung, a side road, and peered ahead into the dark. He’d passed a snowplow a few miles back, but already the road was filling in.
“It’s not letting up,” he muttered, glancing to his right.
Grace didn’t say anything—maybe because the music was too loud, or maybe because she had nothing to say. She sat with her hands in her lap, looking about as relaxed as a cat cornered by a pack of rabid dogs. The truck bed was weighted down, but still the back end swerved a bit and it took some for Matt