It Must Have Been the Mistletoe(53)

Wasn’t this going to be a merry freaking Christmas.





3




“LET’S SET A FEW GROUND rules before we hit the road,” Tyler decided, desperately needing to get the upper hand. He had no idea what rules to set, though. Don’t seduce me sounded a little pathetic.

“Haven’t you heard? I don’t do rules.” Her anger was clear, even though her words were slurry with exhaustion. “And since I’ve spent the entire night packing because your cute little trick lost me not only my job, but my ability to pay rent, I am now going to take a nap.”

Cute little trick? It took Tyler thirty whole seconds to realize she was referring to his kiss. Was she crazy? That lip-lock had been incendiary. The kind of stuff that burned down good intentions and leveled resistance. A move every guy in that bar had been fantasizing he could pull off.

Cute, his ass. He directed a glare her way before he realized it was pointless.

She’d tugged a pair of sunglasses over half her face and curled her body away from him, burrowing into the puffy red fabric of her coat. From the slow, even tenor of her breath, Tyler could tell she was already asleep.

Well, hell. Nothing to do but leave, he realized, pulling away from the curb. The GPS on his dash flashed the route, marking it fourteen hours and twelve minutes until they arrived in Ponder Hill.

Fourteen hours until Rita was in the same town as Randy. Randy who would throw a fit and ruin their mother’s holiday.

Tyler glanced at the woman he’d always called a diva. She looked more like a worn-out waif, her bright red jacket contrasting her black hair and pale skin. She appeared to be out for a few hours, at least.

Good. That would give him time to come up with a plan. Something. Anything.

Maybe first, though, he should figure out how to get rid of this vague wish to curl up next to her, wrap her in his arms and bury his face in that silky hair.



THE SMELL OF FOOD SLOWLY seeped through the cozy blanket of sleep wrapped around Rita. She had a brief, lethargic mental debate about diving back into her dreams, but nothing grabbed her attention faster than deep-fried cooking.

With a little moan, she stretched her arms overhead, the cold glass of the passenger window sending shivers up her fingers. Uncurling her legs, she yawned and forced her eyes open. Even with sunglasses on, the overbright sunshine screamed morning. Squinting behind the dark lenses, she took in the view.

They were parked outside a truck stop, surrounded by chrome and steel. Tyler had shifted, so his back was against the door and one knee drawn up on the bench seat. The food, glorious greasy goodness, was spread on a takeout tray between them. Fries and onion rings, a couple burgers, hot pie, some fruit and even a green salad. Obviously Tyler wasn’t an only-breakfast-in-the-morning kind of guy.

She wished that didn’t add so much to his appeal.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he drawled around a bite of what looked like a double-bacon cheeseburger. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a bit of everything.” Everything, indeed.

Overwhelmed and blaming her vulnerability on being fresh from sleep, she pulled her gaze away from the hypnotic depths of his blue eyes and glanced around.

Frowning, she looked at the clock on the dash. It was after eight and they weren’t even out of New Jersey?

“What’s up?” she asked, feeling a little defensive with her face naked and still soft from sleep. “You too busy watching me nap to put in the mileage?”

“What makes you think I was watching you?”

Rita gave him a wink and ran her fingers through her hair to wind it into a ponytail. “Because sleeping with me is a goal of men far and wide,” she teased.

“How d’ya know you don’t drool?” he asked.

Rita couldn’t tell if he was flirting or not. Tyler came across as this laconic, rough-edged bad boy with a wicked sense of humor and an even more wicked right hook. But for all his good-ol’-boy charm, he was impossible to read.

“Me? Drool? No way.” Sucking up the sweet punch of carbonated caffeine, she gave him an arch look. “I have plenty of references who’ll swear otherwise.”

Tyler’s blue eyes narrowed, then took on a deliciously languorous look. The kind of look she figured he gave his bedmates just before a little morning tumble. Her stomach dipped down to her toes as she imagined waking up next to him. Beside him. On top of him.

He’d never given her that look before. She warned herself not to let it go to her head.

“I’m not the kind of guy who relies much on references. I’d rather decide for myself.”

“Is that an invitation?” she asked in a low, wicked tone.

His grin was a slow work of art. She knew better than to tumble at the sight of a wicked smile and sexy eyes, but man, oh man, her breath still hitched a little.