worth it?”
She couldn’t seem to take a deep enough breath. “I don’t know. Guess we’ll have to play and find out.”
They didn’t speak during the game, only watched each other play. Emily had to be honest with herself—she was watching him move. She liked the way his jeans tightened over his butt, how she could glimpse the muscles in his arms when he stretched out over the table. He took his hat off, and the waves in his black hair glinted under the light. The tension between them sizzled, and she wouldn’t have been surprised to hear a hiss. They walked about the table, about each other, as if in a choreographed dance of evasion and teasing. This was flirtation as a high art, and he was far better at it than she’d ever been.
But the beer was helping. When it was her turn to lean over the table to line up a shot, she knew he was watching her hips, knew what, as a man, he was thinking. And although she would never have sex with a stranger, the thought that he desired her gave her a heady, powerful feeling. This new Emily, in the next stage of her life, could be lusty.
But not with a stranger, she reminded herself.
And then she lost the game, as she knew she would. She still had so many balls on the table as he sank his last one and slowly straightened to look at her.
“I’ll take that kiss,” he said, coming around the table.
Oh God. She was breathless already, looking up and up into those narrowed green eyes. He stopped right in front of her, her breasts almost touching his chest. She could feel the heat of him, the tension, the tug of danger, but it wasn’t exactly him she was afraid of. She was drunk enough that she was afraid what she might do if she tasted him.
But she was also drunk enough to try it. As she stepped forward, their bodies brushed. His inhalation was sexy in itself, letting her know that she could affect him. She waited for him to lean down over her, arched her neck—and then he put his hands on her waist. She gasped as he lifted her off her feet and set her on the edge of the pool table. With wide eyes, feeling breathless, she watched him, unaware that she kept her legs pressed together until he leaned against them.
He smiled, she smiled, and then she parted her knees, holding her breath as he stepped between them. Their faces were almost level.
He leaned in and very lightly touched his lips to hers. “Breathe,” he whispered, softly laughing.
She did with a sudden inhalation. What was she supposed to do with her hands? She was beginning to feel nervous and foolish and that she was making a mistake. And then he put his hands on the outside of her thighs and slowly slid them up, past the roundness of her hips to the dip in her waist.
“So delicate,” he murmured huskily, and kissed her again.
Part of her had expected a drunken kiss of triumph, but he took his time, his slightly parted lips taking hers with soft, little strokes. Soon she couldn’t keep herself from touching him, sliding her hands up his arms, feeling each ripple of muscle with an answering ripple of desire deep in her belly. Her thighs tightened around his hips, she slid her hands into his hair, then, as one, they deepened the kiss. He tasted of beer, and it was an aphrodisiac on this lost, lonely night. The rasp of his tongue along hers made her moan, and he pulled her tighter against him. She was lost in the heat of him, the feel of his warm, hard body in her arms. He tugged the band from her hair, and it spilled around her shoulders. She had no idea how long they kissed, only reveled in feeling absolutely wonderful. It had been so long.
He leaned over her, and she fell back, body arched beneath him, moaning again as he began to trail kisses down her jaw, then her neck. His big hands cupped her shoulders as he held her in place, her own hands clasped his head to her as if she would never let him go.
Deep inside, a whisper grew louder, that this was wrong. Another languid voice said no, they both wanted this, just a little while longer . . .
His mouth lightly touched the center V of her sweater; his hands cupped her ribs, his thumbs riding the outer curves of her breasts. The anticipation was unbearable; she wanted to writhe even as his hand slid up and over her breast as if feeling its weight. His thumb flicked across her nipple, and she jerked with pleasure. His hips were hard against hers, her legs spread to encompass him . . .
On a pool table, where anyone could walk into the back room and see them. The thrill of danger and excitement receded as guilt and worry rose up like hot bubbling water.
She was leading him on; he probably thought he could take her home and—
Torn between passion and mortification, she stiffened. “No,” she whispered. Then louder, “No, please stop.”
His hand froze, his head lifted until their eyes met.
She bit her lip, knowing she looked pathetic and remorseful and guilty. “I can’t do this. Our bet was only for a kiss.”
As he let his breath out, he straightened, pulling her up with him. He stayed between her thighs, watching her mouth. “Are you sure?” he whispered.
When she nodded, he stepped back as she jumped off the table. She stood there a moment, feeling shaky and foolish.
“I should go,” she said, turning away and heading back to the bar.
At her table, she couldn’t bear to wait for her bill, knowing that the bartender and the two dart players might have heard her moan. Her face was hot, her hands trembled, and she prayed that the TV had been loud enough. She threw down far more money than was probably necessary, but she just couldn’t face the bartender. Grabbing her raincoat off the hook, she ran out into the rain, jumped into her car, and sat there, feeling so stupid. She’d never done anything like that in her life. That man—Nate, she remembered—must think her the worst tease.
After a minute’s fumbling in the depths of her purse, she found her keys and slid them into the ignition. The car tried to turn over several times, but nothing happened. Emily closed her eyes and silently prayed. Please, not now.
She turned the ignition again, and although the engine strained once or twice, it wouldn’t start. She stared out the rain-streaked windshield at the glowing sign for Tony’s Tavern. She couldn’t go back in there. Her brain was fuzzy from too much alcohol as she tried to remember what she’d driven past when she left the highway. A motel perhaps? She’d been so worried about her car and the pouring rain and her growling stomach. How far could she walk at midnight in a strange town in a storm?
With a groan, she closed her eyes, feeling moisture from the rain trickle down her neck.
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Excerpt from A Town Called Valentine copyright © 2012 by Gayle Kloecker Callen
TRUE LOVE AT SILVER CREEK RANCH. Copyright © 2013 by Gayle Kloecker Callen. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition JANUARY 2013 ISBN: 9780062102300
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062102294
FIRST EDITION
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About the Publisher
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Table of Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
About the Author
Valentine Valley Novels by Emma Crane
An Excerpt from A Town Called Valentine
Chapter One
Copyright
About the Publisher