“Nice to meet you, fire captain,” she added sharply, but he didn’t let go of her hand. She didn’t let go, either. For a brief moment, the clock stopped ticking, and in that stitch in time her mind was bursting with images from last night, her body flooded with the recall of the most delicious sensations they’d shared. Their eyes remained locked on each other, and she was sure he was seeing and feeling everything too. A shiver dared to race down her spine.
He dropped her hand, and she brushed her palm against her thigh, wishing she were anywhere but here.
Being near him was too damn difficult.
Minutes later, the five of them were outside the coffee shop, seated at a table, with Jamie’s German shepherd puppy at her feet. Thank God for the dog—the adorable creature was the perfect distraction from the awkwardness of sitting across from her brother’s boss whom she’d screwed last night. Not to mention rode, came hard on, and made plans to saddle up again.
Her head pounded. Maybe her brain was annoyed with her body’s decisions.
“Chance is such a good boy,” Megan said, stroking the little dog’s head.
Jamie beamed. “He is, isn’t he? I love him madly. We’ve been doing dog training lessons with Cara. You remember her, Megan? She’s amazing.”
“Wait. I thought it was all my superior training skills that made Chance into the perfect pet,” Smith said jokingly, and Chance looked up, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, his tail wagging slightly.
Megan forced a laugh, then caught Becker’s gaze once more. He looked back at her, those dark brown eyes connecting with her, full of unsaid things. She wanted to know if he felt as uncomfortable as she did, if he felt guilty. But she couldn’t read him, and she swore she saw the slightest touch of anger in his eyes.
“You know,” Travis began, “since the dog is so well-trained, maybe he should be in one of the pictures in the calendar. What do you think?” He directed the question to Megan.
“Sure,” she said quickly.
Travis looked to Becker. “You like the idea?”
He simply nodded, but still kept his focus on Megan. For a second there, Travis glanced from Becker to Megan, then Megan to Becker, before he returned to the conversation. They chatted more about dogs, and the calendar, and the plans for the shoot. But the words were all mush in her head, because she was at war inside—hot memories swamped her brain at the same time as the shock over what she’d done.
She pushed her chair away.
“Excuse me for a minute.”
She headed inside to the ladies’ room, turned on the water, and splashed a cold stream of it on her face. She turned off the faucets, took a deep breath, then grabbed a paper towel to dry her cheeks.
Get it together, she told herself. She was going to be professional and cool. She couldn’t let one mind-blowing night—which was a mistake—cloud her head. She left the bathroom and startled when she found Becker waiting in the hall.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were from here?” he asked, holding his hands out in question.
She furrowed her brow. “What?”
“I had no idea you were Travis’s sister,” he said, and he sounded pissed.
“And I had no idea you were a fireman,” she said, parking her hands on her hips.
He shoved a hand roughly through his hair, shook his head. “And I had no idea you were the photographer. You said you were an artist.”
“I am!” she said, her voice rising. What the hell? “I can draw, and I do tattoos. I also happen to be good at shooting pictures. Besides, you said you were a bar owner,” she pointed out, as if they could both redo this colossal mistake by rehashing the moments they both could have been more honest. “Why didn’t you tell me more about yourself?” she countered.
He didn’t answer. He moved closer, maybe a foot away now. The anger felt like a pulsating life force, but there was something else between them, too. Heat. And want. The nearness was intoxicating. She could reach out and touch his chest. That broad, sturdy chest that she’d loved having her hands all over.
She was edgy now, nervous, as they stood like two sparring partners, tucked away in the back hallway of the coffee shop near the restrooms. She wanted him to touch her again, and she hated that she was still thinking of last night, and how they’d connected so deeply in bed. But also in their conversations all through the night and up to a few minutes ago when they were texting. She was torn between needing to leave and wanting him to pin her against the wall and bury her in kisses that made her weak in the knees.
Too bad she could never do any of those things with him again.