Real Men Don't Quit(22)

“You’ll enjoy that more than mine.”

Her head jerked up as she shot him a dirty look. “I’ve been reading your book. Sure, I need a dictionary now and then, but I’m almost halfway done.”

He held up his hands placatingly. “No, I only meant this book is much better than mine, and you should read it.”

Chewing her lip, she examined the front and back cover. “Fevre Dream,” she read the title. “How do you know I’ll like it?”

“I noticed you like reading paranormal books.” He gestured at the nearby bookcase groaning with books. “This is a vampire novel set on the Mississippi River, but it’s much more than just that. It’s a fantastic story, and much better than any of my stuff.”

She set his gift aside, a frown still pleating her forehead. “Why are you so negative about your book? Surely all those people who rave about it can’t be wrong?”

“Maybe they’re not wrong, but my book” He shook his head. “I’ve come to realize it’s not the kind of book I want to write. I wrote it for all the wrong reasons. I wanted to impress my mentors on the MFA program, and when they suggested changes, I went along with them even though deep down they weren’t changes I agreed with. I wrote that book to show off, and I succeeded in dazzling the critics, but it’s not something I’m proud of. In fact, every time someone tells me they love it, I feel more of a fraud.”

“Is that why you were so grumpy that night at the bookstore?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. You didn’t deserve me snapping at you. I just don’t want you reading stuff I’m not proud of.”

“But what about your sequel? Everyone’s expecting you to write another Kingsley Jeffers book.”

He leaned back and threaded his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, well, for the moment I’ve decided to take a break from writing.”

She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. Beneath the tumbling red hair, her face was oyster white. “So you’re leaving?”

The hitch in her voice made him glance up. Did she sound forlorn at the thought of his leaving? He quickly shook his head. “No, not yet. I’m just going to take things easy for a week or so.”

“I see.” Her tense figure seemed to relax momentarily.

“I thought you could borrow my car to get to work.” Her eyes widened, giving her the appearance of a startled bush baby. “I don’t need it much,” he continued. “So you may as well use it until you get yours fixed. Unless it already is?”

“No, it isn’t, and thank you. That’s very generous of you,” she said faintly. Then she cleared her throat. “I’m not sure when I’ll have enough money to get my rust bucket fixed. I had a setback today.” She gestured toward the coffee table where he saw an elaborate necklace worked in sterling silver and heavily encrusted with semiprecious gems.

“That’s the piece Crystal Kerrigan commissioned, isn’t it?”

“Huh, that’s what I thought, too.” She proceeded to tell him about her visit to Crystal Kerrigan that afternoon, and by the time she was finished, her fingernails were digging into her knees.

“That’s outrageous,” he fumed. “Could you take her to court?”

“It wouldn’t be worth the trouble and expense. I don’t have much cash as it is.”

He drew in a breath and leaned forward. “Tyler, I can—”

“Don’t.” She glowered at him. “Don’t you dare offer me money.”

“It would just be a loan—”

“No. I won’t take your money!” Stormy cobalt eyes flashed a warning at him. “I can take care of Chloe by myself. I don’t need any help.”

Where had this sprung from? He studied her carefully, noting the dark smudges beneath her eyes, the faint tremble in her stubborn chin. He’d never seen her like this; she seemed sovulnerable. Shifting closer to her, he took her hand. “Tyler, what’s up? Did something else happen this afternoon?”

Her fingers were cold and stiff in his, but she didn’t pull away. She gazed at him for a while before saying, “I ran into my mother at my aunt’s place. She doesn’t show up very often, but whenever she does she manages to get under my skin. This time, she suggested I wasn’t up to looking after Chloe and that I should ask Gretchen for help. She said there was no shame in that, just being practical.” She drew in a deep, quivering breath. “Practical! Yeah, I bet she found it practical to dump me in foster care when she couldn’t be bothered with me anymore.”

Luke squeezed her hand, wishing he could siphon off some of the long-buried anguish she was feeling. “What happened to you in foster care? Were you abused, neglected?” His imagination went into overdrive.

But she shook her head. “No, nothing like that. My caretakers were mostly okay, I guess, but I never wanted to be with them. I was always giving them a hard time, running off whenever I could. I went through several homes before Aunt Daphne came and rescued me.” Her face took on a passionate determination. “I’ll never do that to Chloe. I’ll never give her up just because it’s too hard.”

The ferocity in her face made his heart contract.

“No one’s going to take Chloe from you,” he assured her. By now her fingers were crushing his with the force of her emotions. “I, for one, wouldn’t dare to take you on with that savage snarl on your face. It’d be like trying to steal a tiger cub from its mother.”

She blinked, and a slow, wry smile curved her lips. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

“Anytime you need a cheer squad, just holler over the fence.”

Her iron grip on his fingers eased, her body relaxed, and he became aware that they were sitting next to each other, holding hands, and they were alone and in harmony. It seemed the perfect opportunity to kiss her. He turned to face her and saw the same thought must have hit her. He could see it in the glimmer of her eyes, in the way she moistened her lips with her tongue, and in the warmth of her body as she leaned toward him. He hadn’t come here to kiss her. Before knocking on her door, he’d had very solid reasons why he wasn’t going to kiss Tyler, but now, as he gazed at her, all those reasons flew from his brain, and the only thing he knew was that a gorgeous woman wanted to kiss him.

She shifted into his arms, fluid and inviting. Her blue eyes seemed to eat him up, and then their lips met, and her mouth was hot and moist and exciting. Logic sizzled away to be replaced by just one primitive idea: yes. As he intensified the kiss, she shimmied into his lap and slipped her arms around his neck. Yes. Lust, reined in for so long, roared in his veins. He ran his hands up and down her back, kissing her madly, drinking in the taste and smell of her, enjoying the tiny moans escaping from her. He slid his tongue deep into her mouth and felt her immediate response. Yes. Oh God, yes.

Grasping her thighs, he hitched her more firmly on his lap, relishing the heat of her body radiating through her thin cotton leggings. As she lifted her head, he caught a glimpse of her face gloriously flushed with arousal. Her radiance took his breath away, but, with dousing clarity, he knew he had to halt this before it got out of control. After confiding in him, she was vulnerable and emotional, and to take advantage of her now would be so wrong.

He rested his hands on her shoulders, figuring that was the least erogenous area of her body, and held her at arm’s length. “Tyler,” he gulped, “we’d better stop.”

Her eyes had that sensuous, drugged look, and her mouth was luscious as chocolate. “Why?” she said in a husky, come-hither murmur. “We’re keeping to the rules. Nothing below the neck and our clothes are still on.”

“Not for much longer.” Beneath the loose T-shirt, her shoulders were round and smooth, making him want to rip off the T-shirt and nibble at her. Who knew shoulders could be so sexy? Clamping his teeth, he dropped his hands to his sides. “We both know a few high-school kisses aren’t going to satisfy us.”

She leaned back, and he had to stifle a groan of frustration as she pressed against his lap. Slowly she trailed her hand down the front of his shirt, letting her fingernails catch at the buttons. “And what exactly will satisfy you?” she purred, her voice so smoking hot his jeans almost caught on fire.

He swallowed, mesmerized by her languorous exploration of his chest. Jeez, the things he wanted to do with her “Maybe I shouldn’t answer that or you might take fright.”

Her chuckle sent tingles down his spine. “I don’t take fright easily.”

He could believe that. His mouth moistened, and his brain threatened to dissolve into mush. With the last remnants of his self-control, he forced himself to say, “Sweetheart, I didn’t come over here tonight hoping to end up in your bed. In fact, I was determined not to kiss you at all.”

She pursed her lips and frowned at him. “Why not? Last time I checked there wasn’t anything wrong with my breath.”

He tried not to smile. “There’s nothing wrong with your breath, or your body. The opposite really, as you well know.”