Hot Buttered Yum (10 page)

Roni stood in the
dark, wondering where Lucas had disappeared to. She couldn’t imagine he’d
remained on the patio, but she didn’t immediately see him anywhere else,
either. Once her vision adjusted to the night, she stepped to the parking lot
and began walking slowly toward the cars, letting her gaze roam as she tried
not to appear as if she was looking for someone so much as just going outside
for a break.

The night was
dark, but not so much she shouldn’t be able to see Lucas.
There was no moon, yet the stars were out in full force.

Two trucks
pulled into the lot at the far end, one after the other, and their headlights
flashed across one of the trees that had been decorated Monday, before hitting
the ocean beyond. As the lights swung on around, a faint glow touched the walkway
heading out to the beach. She could see a lone figure standing at the end.

The breadth of
the man’s shoulders suggested it was Lucas.

Joining him in
the dark with the ocean as a backdrop was not the smartest move she could make.
The best thing to do would be to go home. Forget the feelings that teased her
every time she looked at him. Forget that when he’d kissed her he’d touched
something she’d wanted to remain buried.

A deep,
soul-wrenching need for more.

She didn’t have
a place for that in her life. She couldn’t do “more.”

She shook her
head as her feet turned toward the beach and she headed out to Lucas.

As she
approached, she could better make out his form. He’d worn jeans again tonight,
along with a different pair of cowboy boots. And he had on a crisp,
long-sleeved white shirt, tucked into his belted jeans. Nothing
overly special.

Yet he
definitely had something special.

When she was
within feet of him and he didn’t turn her way, she paused. Unsure.
He had to have heard her. She suspected he wanted to talk about the other night.
The kiss. But what could she say? In one move you put
all the guys I’ve known before to shame?

She couldn’t
tell him that. A man couldn’t handle that kind of ego stroke.

Yet she also
couldn’t turn away and
not
have
whatever conversation he wanted to have. She found herself anxious to hear what
he thought about that kiss too. Masochist.

She joined him
at the top of the steps without saying a word. They stood there, arm to arm,
both staring out at the water. The tide was heading back out, and she had a
moment of feeling the same way. As if she should be running away instead of
walking to him. She inhaled the damp night air into her lungs and held it there.

“You about
finished avoiding me?” he finally spoke.

The air leaked
slowly from her chest.
Keep it simple
.
She nodded. “If I have to be.”

He turned his
head and peered down at her. The reflection from the stars lit his face. He
looked too serious. “We could go on playing this game,” he told her. “Or we
could play a different one.”

Games. Yes. That was
the way to do it. Keep it fun. Light.

She lifted one
shoulder. “What did you have in mind?”

His eyebrow rose
suggestively.

“Sex?” she
asked. So he didn’t want to talk about the kiss? He just wanted to take her to
bed? That should be a good thing given it was what she really wanted anyway. No
complications. Just easy, casual fun.

Except she
wasn’t going to sleep with him.
Right
. Because it was unprofessional.

She held in her
sigh.

He didn’t
immediately reply, just kept watching her. But the mood in his face did seem to
lighten a fraction. “I like your bluntness, Roni.
It’s enjoyable. A man doesn’t have to worry where he stands with you.”

She gave an
unconcerned shrug. She was what she was. A gust of wind blew into their faces
and she crossed her arms over her chest.

“But sex wasn’t
what I had in mind,” he confessed.

“Good, because
I’m still not sleeping with you.” Again, she did not sound convincing.

He chuckled. “I
like your humor, as well.”

“It’s true.” She
smirked. She sounded like a petulant child.

“Okay.”

She shut her
mouth. Who was she kidding? Get her alone and she’d probably be naked in under
a minute, conflict of interest be damned.

She glanced at
the bar, seeing even more people hanging out on the patio, framed by the twinkling
white lights that had been strung up around the doors and along the wooden
railing of the perimeter. It was a happy, relaxed scene. She could hear light
laughter and the jovial voices of the customers. They were having a good time.
She probably should have stayed up there with them.

“They’re talking
about you,” she informed him. She returned her gaze to Lucas. “At least the
women are. Trying to figure out who you were with under the
deck the other night.”

“I heard.”

If someone happened
to look in their direction at that very moment, it wouldn’t take much to put
two and two together. “Did you tell anyone?”

That eyebrow
thing again.
“You think I’m the kind to kiss and tell?”

“I have no idea
what kind you are. All I know about you is that you’re an amazing-looking guy,
you’re from Dallas, and you’re a computer programmer.” She paused, then shot him a grin. “And that you’re a
weak man around an avocado.”

His grin met
hers. “Had to give them something, right?”

The local
grocery store owners probably loved the shared tidbit as much as the women did.
Given that she’d bought a bagful herself, with Lucas in mind, she’d put money
on her not being the only female who had more of the green fruit lying around
right now than they needed.

“And thank you
for the compliment,” he added. “You happen to be an amazing-looking woman
yourself.”

Flattery seemed
to work on her, if the squishy place in her heart was anything to go by. She
barely kept from leaning into him. “Thank you,” she mumbled politely, instead.

She was in so
much trouble with this guy.

As if in
unspoken agreement, they both headed down the steps together. They got to the
third board from the bottom and stopped. She was wearing jeans tonight, and
didn’t mind getting sand on her rear. They lowered to the riser, putting Gin’s
and its cheery lights out of sight. They could no longer see the bar.
Therefore, the people at the bar could no longer see them.

Lucas leaned
back, resting his elbows on the step three above where he sat. She kept her
focus trained forward. The ocean felt less threatening than the man at her
side. The wind swirled curls in her face and she tucked them behind her ear.

“You know
something else about me, as well,” he told her.

She shot him a
quick glance. “What’s that?”

“That you like
kissing me.”

There it was.
She knew it would have to come up.

There was no
sense hiding from the fact. She nodded. “I do like kissing you. It was quite
enjoyable, in fact.”

“Good.”

He said nothing
more, as if he’d merely needed the confirmation and now he was free to move on.
Only, he didn’t take the conversation anywhere else, either. He just sat there.
Mute.

She studied the
ocean a bit longer before peeking at him once again. “I also know you’re a
cover model.” She hesitated, feeling intrusive, but she’d been wondering about something
all week. And if he wasn’t going to keep the conversation
going himself …

“I don’t
understand the model
and
the
programmer thing,” she blurted. “How did that happen?”

One side of his
mouth hitched up and he slowly sat upright. He took her hand in his and flipped
it palm up, then brought it to his thigh and began absently tracing her fingers
with his.

“I modeled to
put myself through college,” he told her. “A woman from a romance publisher’s
art department noticed me at a Starbucks my first year. I looked like I was
already in my twenties, and I’d been working out hard for the previous couple
of years so I was fit. Apparently, that was what it took.”

If he described
himself simply as “fit” today, he was sorely missing the boat.

“Sounds easy,”
she said. She liked the way he touched her hand.

He flattened all
five of his fingers on top of hers, putting them palm to palm, and sat there,
head tilted, looking at the two of them together. Her fingers were long for her
size, but his dwarfed hers.

“Sometimes a guy
gets a break.” His voice was easy when he finally spoke, yet she detected a tenseness to it.

“Did you ever
regret doing it?”

He looked at her
and she wished it wasn’t so dark that she couldn’t read his eyes. “My parents
would rather I had made money some other way. But they also knew they were in
no position to help with tuition. Blue-collar workers.
They did their best. Still do, in fact. They’re pretty terrific.”

“So you still
have them both?”

His finger
paused while tracing a circle in the middle of her palm. “That’s right. Your
father died when you were young, didn’t he?”

“I was
eighteen,” she pointed out. “Not exactly young. And
how did you know about that?”

A grin popped on
his face. “Because I was a beginning stalker before you disappeared on me.
There was plenty of info to be found about you and your father playing together
up until he passed.” He grew quiet as if respecting the loss of her parent,
before adding, “I also happen to know that we have the same birthday. One year
apart.”

Having the same
birthday was kind of cool.

“You’re …”
she racked her brain to remember what had been on his index card. “What? Twenty-seven?”

“Yep. And you’re
twenty-eight. Will be twenty-nine on February twenty-third.
I always did like an older woman.” He winked.

She rolled her
eyes. “Don’t try so hard. I like you better when you don’t.”

His grin inched
a few degrees more wicked, and her nether regions
turned to blaze. Dang, but she liked this guy.

“So your
parents?” she asked, pulling her mind back from thinking about how much more
she could
like
him if she let
herself. “You’re close to them?”

He nodded and
returned to exploring her hand. “Very. We live in the same neighborhood,
actually. I bought a house down the street from them a couple years ago.”

That piece of
info set Roni back. Okay … he held down a good
job. He had a house. In a
neighborhood
.

Suddenly he was
coming across as a bit more settled and “serious” than she’d imagined.

“But you don’t
have a wife, right? Living in that house with you?”

He gripped her
hand and pulled her to her feet. “I already told you I don’t.”

She glanced over
at Gin’s. She wasn’t ready to go back in. Looked like the
place had quieted down, though. The patio doors were still wide open,
but everyone had gone back inside.

She and Lucas
stood facing each other. Tonight’s three-inch stacked heels barely made an
impact in matching up to him.

“What are we
doing here?” she asked. She held up their joined hands and used her other to
motion back and forth between them. “Why’d you want me to come outside with
you?”

“To talk.”

“But why?” she
asked. “And if you didn’t want to talk about that kiss from the other night, if
you’re not going to try to get into my pants tonight, then what
are
you doing? What game are you playing?
I like to know the rules before I participate.”

Lucas let go of
her hand, but only to slide his fingers to her wrist. He circled the bone and
did the same with the other arm. Then he moved one step down and turned her to
face him. She now looked out toward the ocean while he faced the boardwalk. The
difference in their height was much more manageable.

“I brought you
out here,” he began, “because I
did
want to talk about that kiss.” He put his hands at the base of her spine,
keeping her wrists bound and pulling her arms behind her back. “And of course
I’d like to get
into your pants. What
man wouldn’t?” He gave her a teasing wink when she made a face at him. “And the
game tonight is exactly what we’ve been doing.” He leaned in to whisper. “We’re
getting to know each other.”

His chest wasn’t
quite touching hers, but with a deep breath it would be.

And she was
quite fond of the feel of being shackled by his hands.

“Then why didn’t
we talk about the kiss?” she whispered.

He nuzzled her
ear. “We did. You said you liked it.”

“That’s it?” She
tilted her head, giving him better access to her neck. “That’s all the talking
you wanted to do?”

His mouth
brushed the underside of her jaw, just below her ear. She sizzled to her toes.

“I found out
what I needed to know. Did you want me to tell you that I liked it too?” he
asked, his voice going husky as he continued nibbling at her neck. “Because I did. I thought about it all night long. And I
thought about your breast.” He inhaled and his chest almost brushed hers. “And
the piercing on your nipple.” His lips were back to her earlobes. “I got myself
so hard thinking about it that I had to take matters into my own hands.” He nipped
at her lobe. “Twice.”

Her breathing
had turned to pants.

“And yet I still
couldn’t sleep,” he told her. “I put in hours of some of the best work I’ve
ever done for my company, all because I was so juiced by the thought of getting
my hands back on your breasts. Only next time, I want to touch flesh.”

“Well,” she
breathed out. “
Oh-kay
. I think we’ve sufficiently talked about
that.”

Lucas chuckled.
The sound hit the side of her neck and crept over her shoulders and down her
spine. “I could tell you what I imagined you doing while I jacked off,” he
offered.