True-Blue Cowboy - Vicki Lewis Thompson Page 0,31
inside. “Nick? Nick, where are you?”
“On my way down!” he called back. “What do you need?”
“I have something to tell you.” She shifted her weight back and forth as she waited at the bottom of the stairs for him to appear.
He rounded the curve, a wooden crate clutched in his gloved hands, his T-shirt damp with sweat. He paused. “Is there a problem?”
“Where did you get gloves?”
“Fetched them from my truck a little while ago.” He continued down the stairs. “You seemed really involved, so I just went on by without saying anything. What did you need to tell me?”
“That’s Miss Barton’s dress. Her fiancé died two weeks before their wedding.”
“Oh, no.” He set down the crate at the bottom of the stairs and took off his gloves. “That’s awful.” Shoving the gloves in his back pocket, he came toward her. “What happened?”
“He was in the Army. Died in the line of duty. His name was Gerald.”
“Poor woman.”
“I had no idea. I thought she’d chosen her single life and relished her free-wheeling sexual adventures.”
“That second part could still be true.”
“I hope it was. But what a blow, to be anticipating a life with someone you love and then to have that dream snatched away.” She drifted closer, craving his comforting warmth. “I guess it’s silly for me to be so sad for her. It happened years ago.”
“It’s not silly. She was your friend.”
She nodded. “Uh-huh.”
His gaze gentled. “Come here.” Reaching out, he gathered her into his arms.
With a sigh, she hugged him back and nestled her cheek against his solid chest. “I just—”
“I know. Doesn’t seem fair.”
“It makes sense that she gave everything to organizations that help vets, though.”
“Sure does.”
The deep rumble of his voice soothed her. He held her just right, too, giving firm support without crushing the breath out of her. “You’re a good hugger.”
“Thank you.”
This was nice, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t get better. She lifted her head. “You know that kiss that was interrupted by the ice pack?”
He smiled. “I have a vague memory of it.”
“Think we could try it one more time?”
“It would be my pleasure.”
Chapter Fifteen
Don’t get carried away, dude. Nick lowered his head slowly. He might have fooled Eva into thinking he was super-casual about kissing her again. Tough to stay chill, though, when she’d taken the initiative for the second time in a row.
Closing his eyes, he touched down on the velvet surface of her lush mouth. He barely stifled a groan. The sensation hit him with twice the voltage as the first time.
She’d asked him to kiss her. Couldn’t get more exciting than that. She welcomed him by parting those moist lips and inviting him to explore.
Cradling the back of her head, he held her steady as he accepted her invitation, dipping his tongue into her hot, sexy mouth… dipping in again, shifting the angle, going deeper. Ah, Eva.
Her enthusiasm fueled his as she kissed him back. Cupping her firm bottom, he urged her closer.
She fell right in with the program, molding herself to fit right…there. He shifted his hips, tucked his aching package between her warm thighs.
Her soft whimper sent heat rolling through his body and he trembled as desire gripped him hard. After months of craving her, he had her in his arms, ready and willing. If he didn’t stop now….
Heart pounding, he lifted his mouth a fraction from hers. “Eva…”
She sucked in a breath. “Don’t stop.”
“Don’t want to.”
“Good.”
“Have to.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Lock it down. Heart pounding, he forced himself to put distance between them. Gradually he let go, stepped back and opened his eyes.
Hers were still closed, her dark lashes resting against her pale cheeks, her breathing quick and shallow. She swallowed and ran her tongue over her lips. “Are you absolutely sure?”
“Yes. For now.” His voice was as tight as the fit of his jeans.
“Okay.” She slowly opened her eyes, revealing green pools shimmering with desire, an image straight out of his fantasy.
He tortured himself by zeroing in on her mesmerizing gaze. “Rain check?”
She cleared her throat. “No rain in the forecast for at least a week.”
“A week? Are you messing with me?”
“A little.” Mischief flashed in her smile. “Weather reports are notoriously wrong. It could rain anytime.”
He took a shaky breath, ran a hand through his damp hair, gathered his forces. “I suppose this isn’t totally my call. You did pay for my time.”
“So I did. But the contract was for twelve hours of manual labor.”
“It was.”
“Where we were headed just now doesn’t fit that