Rough Ride (9 page)

Gretchen smiled at him as she passed by and lifted dishes in the tub against her hip. “Not too late to run.”

He shook his head. “Not going anywhere.”

Trent walked back in and froze at the sight of Gretchen dancing around the tables, picking up dishes and Tonya sweeping and singing with the broom still. Lane moved to a cleaned off table and sat. His brothers joined him a moment later and watched the two move around the room.

Jacob leaned forward. “We’re at a girl party.”

Lane watched, amused. “I know.”

Trent opened his cards. “How long do you think this is going to take?”

“Until they get done, I guess.”

Trent shook his head. “I hope the music changes.”

Gretchen came by and cleaned the table next to them. “Don’t bet on it.”

“Good,” Trent beamed at her. “I love this stuff.”

She laughed. “Liar.”

Trent dealt the cards and she kept working her way across the room, bussing tables, wiping tops down. Tonya moved along behind her, stacking chairs on top of the table, and sweeping across the floor under them.

Lane picked up his cards and tried to make sense of them. Then Flora came out with a mop bucket, also drunk dancing and mopping behind Tonya’s cleaning. They’d clearly had the system down. And did someone turn the volume up?

They played their rounds as the girls worked, cleaned and mopped. He dealt. Then another deal. He wasn’t sure how many rounds they played. They always just played for the hell of it—bragging rights, but Lane checked his watch and saw an hour had passed. The three girls were in the back corner. Flora took the mop around the last table and dropped it in her water. “All done.”

Lane folded his hands and stood. “We done?”

Gretchen laughed again and he fell back in his seat. “Lord no. There’s a pile of dishes three times taller than I am.”

Trent flipped through the cards in his hands. “Must be a short stack.”

“Short jokes, baldy? Really?” She whacked him with the damp rag she’d been cleaning tables with on the way to the kitchen.

“I shaved it on purpose.”

“Cause it’s thinning or receding?”

His eyes narrowed and Lane laughed and settled back in his chair loving every moment. And it was dangerous, but not something he could pass up. For a moment he couldn’t help but wonder what if. What if he told the truth about what he knew? How long would they be pissed at him for keeping momma’s disease a secret or would they never get over the betrayal?

The girls disappeared through the kitchen swinging doors so hopefully they were just about done and he could get the hell out of here. He returned to his cards, but no sooner did he figure out some sense of his hand, a crash sounded from the kitchen. Lane pushed through the swinging door to the kitchen in seconds, his brothers on his heels.

Gretchen spun and faced them with a yelp. “Something wrong?”

Lane blinked. “There was a crash.”

Her gaze slid away toward her hand where water streamed from the faucet. “I dropped some dishes in the sink.”

Tonya moved in next to her, stole the water for a moment while she filled a pitcher. “We’re fine. Nearly done. If you boys are tired, you don’t have to wait. Really. Totally sobered up.”

The kitchen was long and narrow. A big silver door was at the end. On one side was a line of griddles and fryers. Along the other was a wall of shelving half full of dishes, pots and pans and a big sink where Gretchen stood.

Lane was ready to go, but it was dark outside, late, and he didn’t like leaving them here alone. Even though it was a small town and likely as safe as Mayberry, he didn’t like it. “Anything I can do to help?”

The three women stared at him, their mouths parted.

Gretchen cleared her throat. “Yep. I’ll wash, you rinse.”

Flora gestured at Jacob as she walked toward the big door at the back. “Let’s get ice. You’ll save me from getting the ladder.”

Tonya shook her head and tossed Trent a brush. “If you burn yourself cleaning this grill with me, I’m not responsible.”

Lane moved in next to Gretchen and waited while she filled her sink with steaming hot, soapy water.

She sprayed her water and bubbles foamed up. “Rinse them with warm water. Put them in the drying rack.”

She reached in and started washing, adding a pile of soapy plates to his side while he waited for her sink to finish filling with water. She reached for another pile of plates, slid him the faucet and started on the next load. “Rinse well.”

He grinned. “I got this.”

“If you wanted to wash, you could have jumped in a lot sooner.”

He laughed. “Wasn’t sure what all cleaning up required.”

“We’re nearly done now. Tonya’s getting the grill cleaned. Flora is filling the drink machine with ice and shutting down and locking up. Then these dishes.”

“Then what happens?”

“We go home.” She smiled and closed her eyes. “I take a long hot bath. Pull all my blinds down. Close curtains. Kick the air down low and climb in bed, put my feet up and sleep.”

He swallowed and kept rinsing. “Sounds like a plan.”

She hmm’d. “It is. I know it sounds weird, but when I help out on occasions, I love that part afterward.”

Tonya slipped between them. “You’re not crazy, doll. I love that part too.”

Lane shook his head. “This is a hell of a lot of work.”

“Yes it is.” Tonya nodded. “Start tipping better so the work goes down easier.”

Gretchen laughed. “You walked into that one.”

Lane shook his head and rinsed the last dish in sink. “True. That all of them?”

Tonya appeared on the other side. “Almost. Gotta dry and put away.”

She tossed them both a rag. “You two dry and we’ll put away. This will be done in record time.”

Trent looked up from the rag he’d caught against his chest. “Where’d Jacob go?”

“With Flora filling up ice.”

Lane shook his head. “That must be one hell of a big ice bucket.”

Chapter Ten

Gretchen stretched her legs out, pointed and flexed her feet to loosen the stiffness. “Thanks for driving me home, you didn’t have to.”

“You look tired.”

“I am tired.”

Lane parked in her slot and walked her up the door, slid the key in the lock and opened it for her. She smiled as she passed through the doorway and when he entered behind her, she wasn’t complaining. There had been no missing the darkening of his gaze when she’d mentioned a bath and bed at the diner. Now to convince him to join her.

She kicked her shoes off once inside and moaned at the thick carpet cradling her feet. “Oh, that’s nice.”

She glanced up and found him staring down, his eyes dark. “Your feet must be nearly numb.”

“Years ago I did this every day and I was used to it. Now I’m just out of practice.” She wiggled her sweaty toes in her socks. The move sent a soothing stream of pleasure up her tired legs. “If you want something, help yourself. I need a bath.”

“Okay.” And he swept her off her feet.

She yelped and grabbed him by the shoulders. “What are you doing?”

“You said if I wanted something, I should help myself. And you’ve waited on people all night long. It’s my turn.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t let go and she for damn sure didn’t protest. She pointed down the hall. “My bedroom and bathroom is that way.” She rested her head against his shoulder. “This is really my favorite part of the night now, when I don’t have to do anything at all.”

He carried her down the darkened hallway and she sighed against him. He was strong and warm and she just wanted to curl alongside all of it. If she didn’t feel so disgustingly gross, she would have told him the couch was far enough.

But she was gross. Too gross to even think about feeling sexy. Layers of grease and steam were thick on her face. Slick in her hair. Sweat had slid down her back, coated in her clothes only to still sweat more.

She hit her bedroom door with her toe and reached around and flipped on the light. Her robe was puddled on the floor. Towel tossed across the unmade bed. Orange panties were on top of the clothing pile along the wall. The matching bra over the side table next to her bed. It wasn’t at all like Lane’s neat bedroom.

He stopped, his eyes landed on each article of clothing and he grinned. “Orange and matching. Sexy.”

She laughed and dropped her head back against his shoulder. She wouldn’t tell him she’d worn them on separate days. Or that she’d worn the bra for several days in a row and that’s why it was by the bed. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“You don’t have anyone to inspect your home?”

She chuckled. “Funny, but no. Besides, I wouldn’t say anything to anyone if they had clothes on the floor. I look for things that could cause damage to the home.”

He stepped in her bathroom, flicked the lights on and she pressed her lips together. The counter was coated in rollers, hair dyer, and what seemed like hundreds of bottles.

His brow rose. “I’m not saying anything.”

“I was in a hurry when I left too.”

“Said I wasn’t saying anything.”

Her cheeks were warm. “I had to take the pie to your house. And then get to the diner.”

He sat her down on the side of the bathtub and squatted before her. “I said I wasn’t going to say anything.”

She studied him. “You have that look.”

He glanced around again. “I have three other brothers. Mom declared her bedroom and bathroom off limits. You just have a lot of stuff.”

She chuckled. “It takes a lot for a girl.”

“I thought I saw three bottles of lotion over there.”

“Only three? I know of at least four and that’s just for my face, never mind body.”

His eyes widened and he looked horrified. “Where do you put all that?”

She blinked. “Usually in different baskets under the counter.”

“No. On you. Where do you use all that?”

“My body, where else?”

“But you’re beautiful how you are.”

She could only laugh again. “I’ve been using all my lotions for years. You just told me it’s working and I should keep it up.”

He grimaced. “It just looks like a lot of work.”

“Girly work though, so it’s not really work. Maybe one day I’ll show you.” She reached behind her and turned on the tub, checked the temperature and put the plug in.

“Let’s get these clothes off you.” He tugged at her socks and her eyes widened.

The second sock came off her foot. “You’re going to stay.”

He grinned. “You thought I was going to leave?”

“Well, I….”

His big, calloused hands slid up her thighs. “Tip, if a man thinks he can strip a woman, he’s not going anywhere.”

Shudders crumbled over her skin and there went the last of that thought. He gripped the bottom of her tank and pulled it overhead, keeping hold of her wrists after the shirt was off. His palms brushed down the outside of her arms and she turned so boneless, she liked to have fell in the bathtub. He was just so huge. A big man, yet tender and caressing while stripping her down to panties and bra.

He flicked open the back hooks of her bra and tossed it aside. Before she could get a moan out, he frowned at her chest.

She glanced down, wondering if a french fry had gotten stuck in there. Wouldn’t be the first time, but there was nothing. Just breasts.

His thumbs pressed against the reddened skin the bra left behind and stroked. “This looks painful.”

And a moan came out as he rubbed her around her back, then front, massaging where the wire had been under her breasts. “When you wear it every day, you don’t notice.”

“I think I would.” He leaned forward, her breath caught and he left a quick kiss along the red markings. “These are too sweet to be hurting.”

She wrapped her arms around him, thinking it would be a good idea if he joined her in the tub. Or they could skip the bath and go to the bathroom floor. Even smelling like french fries and the grease trap off the grill, he could make her feel sexy.

He stood, lifting her with him. The rough pads of his thumbs stroked down her naked back to her waist. Standing before him in just her underwear was the most intense moment she’d had with him. He was all hard male. Even his thumbs dipping in her panties carried more strength than she could imagine, yet as he pushed them off so slow, so gentle, she could only shiver and step closer. Somehow desire him more when she didn’t think it was possible.

To discover more things about him. Feel the power of his chest, contained under his shirt against her cheek. To know the shuddering of his muscles on her lips. His fingers wrapped around her butt and lifted her until she was eye level and able to stare into his heated and steady gaze. She combed her nails through the slight roughness on his cheek.

His lips parted. A small breath eased passed them before she sealed her mouth over his. A groan vibrated through his throat, his fingers pinched before lowering her to standing in the tub. Hot water sloshed halfway up her calves and she curled her toes in it.

His hands caressed up her sides, arms, along the underside of her chin and tipped her face up to him. “Sit down.”

She lifted an eyebrow, but did as he said. “I thought you would get in with me.”

He shook his head as she lowered to her knees. “I get in that tub and we might not get out.”

She gave him a grin. “Doesn’t sound so bad.”

“That wasn’t part of your plan.” And he pulled the band from her hair.

Instead of leaning back, she hugged the side of the tub and ran her fingers under the cuff of his t-shirt. “What plan?”

He cupped water in his hands and poured it over her head. “For the evening. You said, take a bath and go to bed.”

“Oh.” She blinked and drew on the center of his chest with her fingers. The shirt was dark and she couldn’t see it, but his tattoo was somewhere under her fingertips on his chest. “I would be okay with changing my plan.”

He laughed and dropped another handful of water over her head. “I’m afraid you might fall asleep on me.”

“I’m not that tired.”

His brow rose. “We’ll see. Sit up so we can wash your hair.”

But she didn’t. She was the only one naked here. Was happy to get naked when she thought he was getting naked too. Last time she was the only one naked in front of a man was years ago. And she was married to the man. And it wasn’t that she had problems with her body. No amount of wishing or hoping would make her taller or bustier. She’d been out of high school far too long to be hung up on those issues.