had worked for her, but she loved him in anything. Or nothing. All his long fine limbs, the intriguing curves and valleys of his body, his rougher hair and firm muscles.
Marcus had confiscated the phone, his tone of horror sharp enough to reach Daralyn, sitting next to Rory at the time. She’d been studying at her kitchen table and had to hide a smile at Rory’s scowl. She was sure Thomas was on the other end with a similarly amused look.
“If you want to accept an award looking like a gap-toothed hillbilly who wears the same suit for a decade—”
“I don’t need to look like some Abercrombie & Fitch nancy boy without hair on his balls…”
And so on.
She didn’t know what they’d worked out, but it had involved Rory getting measured by a local tailor Marcus recommended. Rory was handsome in anything, but the idea of him in a new suit and tie, dressed up…
She recalled the night of Tyler’s party, when they’d returned to Brick’s cottage. As Rory made himself a cup of decaf coffee in the kitchen, he’d had the blue dress shirt open, the sleeves rolled up. She’d found herself staring at the movement of his hands, how the shirt lay against his bare chest. The heavy-lidded brown eyes had turned her way, saw her watching him…
She was moving her fingers along her thigh, back and forth, a slow glide, creating a low-level throb between her legs. She jumped up from the bed, her heartbeat accelerating as her gaze darted to all corners of the cottage. As if she expected someone to charge out at her, snapping like an angry dog.
Bad girl. Only bad girls act that way.
As she swayed there, indecisive, her eyes closed, pulling her back to the memory of Rory in that kitchen. He’d spoken to her low, brought her to him. Then he had her remove the dress, sit in his lap in only her stockings, panties and the corset. He’d held her while he made the coffee, added cream and sugar. She’d listened to his heartbeat, tipped her head up when he’d wanted to kiss her mouth, slow and long. He’d dropped his hand between her legs and stroked…
She tentatively cupped her breast, imagining his hand on it, the long, strong fingers. A few months ago, Elsa Pride had brought in a half-dozen chicks that had hatched when one of her hens managed to hide a set of eggs from her. Rory had offered to find someone in the community looking to add to their hen house. Daralyn remembered him holding one of the chicks in his hand, cradling it, his fingers moving over the soft down, the way he touched her flesh.
When she brushed her nipple, it was in a taut peak. The wave of sensation that shot through her startled her into another guilty survey of her surroundings. Nerves came in behind it, a strong uneasiness that bordered on nausea. She swallowed it down, just as her phone began to buzz.
With relief, she saw it was him.
“Hi,” she said. “How did the ATV’ing go?”
“Way more fun than grown men should be allowed to have.” He sounded tired, but his voice had that light quality she’d heard when men were off together, doing sports, so she knew he was having a good time. He also sounded really pleased to talk to her. The feeling was mutual. “How about shopping? How did that go?”
“We found a dress. Amanda says it’s really pretty, and your mom is going to help me alter it tonight so it will fit right.”
“I don’t know why Marcus is worried about me having a new suit. Nobody’s going to be looking at me with you there. Course, I’d better look my best, so no one thinks they can steal you away from this gap-toothed hillbilly.”
“Not a possibility,” she said staunchly. “Will you tell me more about your day?”
“Only if you spend at least five minutes telling me about yours.”
She made it to ten, largely because he kept prompting her with questions. Then he launched into a summary of their cross-country outing on ATVs. She paid attention, but she also closed her eyes, let herself get carried away on his voice, that deep resonance that vibrated through her body. Her thighs, her lower belly, up through her breasts and throat…
She curled her fingers into a fist on her leg. What was the matter with her? While they didn’t have actual sex every time they were together, Rory was pretty