Take A Chance On Me (8 page)

She nodded. Her attention shifted, dropping to his mouth. Her pink tongue snuck out and licked at her bottom lip before retreating.

He bit back a groan at the illicit images assaulting him.

Jesus. Here she was talking about her dead father and all he could think about was defiling her. He pushed the impure thoughts away. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

She shook her head. “I should get back to work.”

He dropped his hand from her neck, refusing to think about how much he liked the feel of her skin under his palm. “Are you sure I can’t help you look?”

“I want to do it myself,” she said, her voice still thick with emotion.

“All right, Princess.” He straightened and crossed his arms. He wanted her to forget: forget about her family and what she’d left behind. He wanted her sass, not her sorrow.

And he wasn’t above baiting her to get it.

He fixed a stern expression on his face and jutted a chin at the car. “Get busy, little girl. As much as I’d love to clean out this garbage pit of a car, I don’t have a Dumpster available. Trash bags alone won’t get the job done.”

She shot up, planting her hands on her hips. “What did you say?”

Yes, there it was: the fire she hid under those layers of Catholic guilt. He cocked a brow. “What’s your objection? That I called you little girl, or messy?”

She threw her shoulders back, thrusting out breasts that were almost lost in Gracie’s too-big T-shirt. “Both!”

“I call it like I see it.” He shrugged a shoulder. “What are you going to do about it?”

Her mouth fell open, and her eyes flashed all sorts of interesting variations of green. She stepped forward and poked him in the center of his chest. “You . . . you . . . ,” she sputtered.

He leaned in close, sucking in the scent of lavender, breathing in her hint of wildness. Jesus, he wanted her. He needed every ounce of control to not take her mouth in a hard, brutal fuck-you-where-you-stand kiss. Instead he whispered, “You what?”

With another hard jab of her sharp, white-tipped nail, she stomped a foot, temper riled. “You, you jerk!”

“Come on, you can do better than that, can’t you?” He paused, waiting one delicious beat that made her lean in closer. “Little girl?”

“You arrogant, egotistical . . .” With a strangled scream, she hauled back and punched him in the chest, hard enough that some of the air in his lungs whooshed out.

Before she could strike again, he snagged her wrist, caught her around the waist with his free hand, and pulled her close. Her cheeks were flushed a pretty pink. Body rigid, she met his gaze with fiery defiance.

He searched her face and found what he was looking for under her righteous, indignant temper: excitement. Hunger.

He tightened his hold, pressing along her spine to force her the last couple of inches she needed to be flush against him. He needed one taste of that mouth.

But before he could give in to the impulse that was riding him hard, a police cruiser pulled into the parking lot and flashed its lights.

“Ah, fuck.” He dropped his hold. Impeccable timing. He’d kill the bastard.

“Are we not supposed to be here?” Maddie asked, her tone a bit breathless.

The black-and-white pulled to a stop and the door swung open. Next to him, Maddie cleared her throat and smoothed down her rumpled clothes.

“It’s fine. He’s just an asshole,” Mitch said wryly.

Charlie Radcliff stepped from his vehicle, looking the cliché of a small-town cop, complete with mirrored sunglasses.

“He looks . . .” Maddie shifted closer to Mitch’s side. “Imposing.”

He supposed that was one way to say it. Decked out in a tan uniform, Charlie strolled toward them, flashing a cocky-ass grin when he stopped in front of them.

“I just happened by,” he said, in the slow drawl of his that hinted at Southern roots. “Is there a problem, ma’am?”

Mitch slanted a glance in her direction. She stood military straight, vehemently shaking her head. “Everything’s fine, Officer.”

“Sheriff. You sure about that?” Charlie said, sounding like a complete hard-ass. “Looked to me like you were being accosted.”

“N-no—”

Mitch cut her off. “Would you get the hell out of here?”

“Mitch,” Maddie said, with a low hiss.

Evidently in a devious mood, Charlie stalked forward, placing a hand menacingly over his baton. “What did you say?”

“Fuck. Off.” Mitch fired each word like a bullet.

“Mitch, please,” Maddie said, tone pleading.

“Do I have to take you in?” Charlie’s attention shifted in Maddie’s direction and his mouth twisted into a smile that Mitch had seen him use on hundreds of women during their fifteen-year friendship. “I’ll be happy to look after her for you, Mitch.”

A stab of something suspiciously close to possessiveness jabbed at his rib cage. Mitch shot Charlie a droll glare. “Over my dead body.”

One black brow rose over his sunglasses. “That can be arranged.”

“Please, don’t take him to jail,” Maddie said, sounding alarmed.

Both Charlie’s and Mitch’s attention snapped to her.

“Now, why would you be thinking that?” Charlie asked, in an amused voice.

Maddie’s gaze darted back and forth. “He threatened you.”

Mitch laughed and Charlie scoffed. “Honey, he’s nothing but a pesky little fly I’d have to bat away.”

Comprehension dawned and her worried expression cleared. “Oh, I see. You know, you should tell someone this is some macho-guy act before you get rolling.”

“And what fun would that be?” Charlie rocked back on his heels. Even with his eyes hidden behind the mirrored frames, it was damn clear he was scoping Maddie out from head to toe. Under his scrutiny, she started to fidget. She pressed closer to Mitch, almost as if by instinct, pleasing him immensely.

“Don’t mind him, Princess.” He slid his arm around her waist, pulling her tighter against him. “He likes to abuse his power over unsuspecting women.”

“Um,” Maddie said, fitting under the crook his arm as though she were made for him, which was odd considering he towered over her by a foot. “I bet it’s quite effective.”

Charlie laughed. “Maddie Donovan, you’re everything I’ve heard and then some.”

Maddie stiffened, pulling out of Mitch’s embrace and cocking her head to the side. “How do you know my name?”

“Honey,” Charlie drawled, the endearment scraping a dull blade over Mitch’s nerves. “This is a small town. People don’t have anything else to do but talk. Give me time and I’ll know your whole life story.”

That strawberry-stained mouth pulled into a frown, and two little lines formed between auburn brows. She studied the cracked concrete at her feet. Suddenly, she looked up, her cheeks flushing when she realized they were watching her. She smiled brightly. “Oh well, I guess this is what I get for making an entrance.”

Charlie chuckled, shifting his attention to Mitch. “I like her. Are you bringing her tonight?”

Mitch nodded. “That was the idea.”

Maddie glanced at him, shielding her eyes against the sun. “Tonight?”

“Sunday night is one of the few times none of us work,” Mitch explained. “Sam, Gracie, Charlie, and I usually get together and have dinner. I’d planned on mentioning it at some point.”

“That sounds fun.” She gestured at her car. “I should keep looking.”

Charlie bent and peered into her car, smiling. “I can see you’re one of those tidy women who likes everything in its place.”

Maddie’s chin tilted with that defiant little lift. “If you must know, I actually am. My car is one of the few places I throw caution to the wind.”

Mitch studied her. Somehow, he didn’t quite believe that. He thought that the real Maddie was represented in that mess of a car. Hell, he should know: she’d managed to blow through his life like a tornado in less than twenty-four hours. But unlike her, he welcomed the chaos. After three years of mind-numbing monotony, it felt good to use his brain again and even better to feel the kick of excitement, the rush of challenge she presented.

“I see,” Charlie said, resting his elbow on the top of her car. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Maddie shook her head. “Nope, just looking for money.”

Charlie stepped back and walked up to Mitch while Maddie climbed into the driver’s seat on her hands and knees, oblivious to the taunting view her ass presented.

Mitch said, in a dry tone, “Thanks a lot, asshole. I’d almost had her relaxed before you showed up.”

“Is that what you were doing?” Charlie asked in a slow, amused drawl. “Relaxing her?”

“I was working on it.”

“That’s not all you were working on,” Charlie said. “What’s the plan?”

“At this point, I’m winging it.”

Maddie’s calf flexed as she contorted herself in an impossible position and she disappeared into the well of the passenger’s seat.

“And to think,” Charlie said, “if she’d have stayed in her car, I would have been the one coming to her rescue.”

“Fuck off,” Mitch said in his mildest voice, ignoring the kick of possession thumping insistently against his chest. He’d known Charlie since they were teenagers. Charlie knew all the right buttons to push and was looking for a reaction.

Mitch wouldn’t be giving him one.

Besides, even if Charlie had found Maddie first, it wouldn’t have mattered. Charlie had been sleeping with Gracie for over a year, and while they were more friends with benefits than lovers, it had been a while since either one of them had gone looking elsewhere.

Maddie’s body twisted and she emerged from the car. A beam of sun caught the thick tumble of waves in her ponytail, highlighting a million different strands of red. Hair that beautiful could only have been a blessing from God. Her lips tugged down. “I couldn’t find anything else.”

“I’m sorry,” Mitch said, not sorry at all. The certainty that she needed to stay had only grown since last night, and the less money she had, the better. The trick was to make sure she had enough that she didn’t worry about taking advantage, but not so much that she could go anywhere. Like a motel.

“Did you look in your trunk?” Charlie asked, ever so fucking helpful.

Mitch shot him a glare, but the bastard just gave him a smug smile.

“Duh,” Maddie said, banging the heel of her palm on the side of her head. “Most of the mess is in the car, so I didn’t even think to look.” She reached inside the car and pressed a button. The trunk popped open. She trotted over and flung it the rest of the way.

With a loud gasp, Maddie’s hand flew to her chest.

Mitch’s gut tightened. Why did he have a bad feeling?

She pulled out a gym bag and jumped up and down in the excited way women had. “I’d forgotten I’d left it in there. I remember now: my hands were full and I couldn’t carry it.”

Mitch crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowed on the gym bag.

“It won’t be much, but at least I’ll have some clothes!” She dropped it to the ground and crouched next to it. The zipper seemed to echo in his head as she opened the damned thing and started to rifle through the contents.

The duffel contained workout clothes, a towel, running shoes, and a variety of other female items. She clutched a bottle to her chest and hugged it tight, beaming at him with a smile so bright his breath caught. “My shampoo.” Another bottle clutched tight. “My perfume.”

The contents should have eased his mind, but didn’t.

“Oh my God, makeup.” She held a bag and raised her gaze to the heavens. The sunlight caught her ivory skin so she fairly glowed. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

Charlie chuckled. “She is a cute little thing, isn’t she?”

The knot in Mitch’s stomach grew, and he realized he had ground his teeth so tight that his jaw was starting to ache. With considerable effort, he forced his muscles to relax. He was safe. She hadn’t found anything that would send her away.

She opened a side pocket and squealed with delight as she unearthed toothpaste and a toothbrush. In a split instant, all of her frantic motion stopped as she froze. Her eyes widened, and a huge smile split her face. “I can’t believe it. Going to the gym to work out my frustration finally paid off.”

She slipped her hand into the side pocket and pulled out a shiny silver credit card.

Chapter Seven

Sitting in the parking lot of Revival’s only motel, Maddie clutched the credit card tightly enough for the hard plastic edges to bite into her skin. In the hoopla of the week before the wedding, she’d forgotten about tucking the card into her gym bag to renew her membership.

At first, the discovery had seemed like a gift from God. But like most gifts from the heavens, this one had come with strings and unforeseen tests.

Mitch sat next to her. The hard and impenetrable quiet between them was a stony, almost tangible thing.

Outside, the sun blared too brightly against the asphalt parking lot as the temperature climbed steadily over the afternoon. Even with the air-conditioning blasting, her bare thighs stuck to the black leather seats of his BMW.

Another minute ticked by on the electronic display.

At a loss for how to tackle the elephant in the room, she trailed a path over the sophisticated electronic console. “Is this car a holdover from your lawyering days?”

The corners of his mouth turned down. “Something like that.”

They’d managed to keep up an affable front after the sinfully good-looking sheriff had driven away in his cruiser, and Mitch had driven her to the “local” Target, twenty miles away. As they’d roamed the various aisles, he’d broken the ice with his wicked charm and teasing attempt to seduce her back to his house. She’d lapped it up, enjoying every second, because she’d known it would come to an end soon enough.

Even lunch had been heartbreakingly fun as he’d presented numerous closing arguments to sway her. But the bad mood lurking under the surface had reared its ugly head when she’d offered him gas money.

She scowled. What was the big deal?

He’d driven her around practically half the day and taken his time, effort, and resources to help her. It wasn’t a cardinal sin to pay her own way, although he clearly didn’t agree.

On the ride to the motel, the tension grew as discontent stirred like a boiling pot waiting to spill over.

Why wasn’t she happy?

With the backseat loaded with Target bags, and five hundred dollars in her pocket from the cash advance she’d taken from the ATM on her way out the door, she’d accomplished exactly what she’d wanted. Except what had she really proved? That given a credit card with a healthy limit, she could take care of herself?

She stared out the window at the motel that would be her home until her car was fixed. Rundown and decrepit, the sign advertised color TVs and vacancies, with the V blinking at intermittent intervals. The parking lot was littered with the usual cars and pickup trucks pulled into neat little rows outside their accompanying doors. A carport decorated with multicolored tinsel housed a pack of Harleys. Maddie didn’t know if the odd touch made the place more ominous, or less. She pointed at the strange sight. “Isn’t it a little early for Christmas decorations?”

The air conditioner blasted from the vents, rustling the plastic from the backseat.

“Please reconsider.” Mitch’s words were soft, yet firm, as if he was fighting back a demand he couldn’t quite leash. “I don’t want you staying here.”

She fixed her attention on the lobby door. The vacancy sign winked mockingly. She clutched the credit card more tightly. “I can’t.”

He turned, shifting in his seat, his long legs hitting the console. “Why?”

She bit the inside of her cheek. Why was this so hard? It should be easy to walk away. For all intents and purposes, he was a stranger: leaving should be simple. Her gaze dipped down to the door handle. The hard lump of guilt sat like a rock in her stomach.

What kind of a person was she that she’d had an easier time walking away from her wedding than getting out of this car?

Next to her, Mitch waited; the air was tense with everything unsaid.

He was different from Steve in that way. If she’d had this conversation with Steve, he would have answered his own question already. She traced her index finger along the cool metal door handle.

If he bothered to even ask the question in the first place. She took a deep breath and expelled it slowly. “People have been taking care of me for so long, I can’t remember what it’s like to make my own decisions.” The confession surprised her. She hadn’t planned it.

“Go on,” Mitch prompted. That soft, low voice sent a shiver down her spine.

She craned her neck to look at him. The sun caught the dark gold of his hair, highlighting his warm skin and eyes. He was a beautiful man. He was rugged and powerful, a walking fantasy come to life, and he wanted her. Even more startling, she wanted him back, almost fiercely.

Maybe this was God’s idea of a practical joke. Or maybe it was just another test.

She swallowed past the tightness in her throat. She didn’t know what it was, other than not meant to be. “I need to take care of myself right now. To prove to my family and myself I can do it.”

“And you can’t prove yourself and stay with me?” Resignation slid into his expression.

The desire to change her mind rose swiftly, filling her chest. She bit her bottom lip hard enough to feel the sting of pain until she composed herself. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” The word rasped across her skin like the blade of a dull knife.

Her throat closing over, she shrugged. “I don’t know why.”

For several long-drawn-out moments, he studied her. His eyes narrowed as though he was looking for something; then finally he gave a sharp nod. “Okay. I don’t like it, but I understand.”

A confusing mixture of unhappiness and regret washed through her. How she longed to be convinced. Ironic, considering her main gripe about Steve was that he’d never take no for an answer.

She lowered her lashes. “I guess there’s nothing else to say.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he said, crooking a finger. “Come here.”

Her throat went dry, and her heart gave a thud. On instinct, she shook her head.

His expression turned ruthlessly intent. “Maddie, I’ve been thinking about that mouth of yours for almost twenty-four hours straight. You don’t think I’m going to let you go without touching you, do you?”

Had it only been one day? How was that even possible? It seemed as though a lifetime had passed since she’d run out on her wedding. “Um . . .” She swallowed hard and squeaked out, “Yes?”

A long pause filled with sexual awareness so thick it practically coated the air.

How did he do it, flip the mood? Only moments ago, she’d felt bereft, but with one wicked glance she’d forgotten everything dogging her.

“I’ll tell you what.” He smiled, and it was so filled with cunning that the fine hairs on her neck rose in anticipation. “Tell me you won’t regret it and we can end things right here with a friendly pat on the back.”

“I-I d-don’t know what you mean,” she lied, loving and hating the direction the conversation had taken.

“Do I need to spell it out?”

“No?” The word was a question instead of the statement she’d intended.

“You want to take care of yourself, right?”

She nodded, sensing a trap but unable to stop playing into his hands.

He leaned close, placing his elbow on the console, taking up every spare inch of breathing room. “You’re ready to ditch the good Catholic girl and start doing what you want?”

The strange mixture of lust and irritation he evoked pulled in her stomach. “Well, when you put it that way.”

The curve of his lips held a distinct sexual tilt. “If you get out of this car untouched, tell me you won’t lie in bed late at night and regret it. Tell me you won’t wonder and wish you’d done things differently.”

Her pulse hammered and her throat dried up, leaving her unable to breathe, let alone speak.

He stroked a path over the line of her jaw, and Maddie forced her eyes to stay open instead of fluttering closed from sheer desire.

Why did it feel like an eternity since he’d touched her? Even more troubling, why did his hands feel so right? The slightly rough pads of his fingers trailed down the curve of her neck, leaving an explosion of tingles coursing through her.

“And remember, Princess,” he said, in a deep rumble of a voice that vibrated through her as though he were her own personal tuning fork. “Lying is a sin.”

She gasped, sucking in the last available bit of air left in the car. “That’s a low blow.”

He gave a seductive laugh, filled with heat and promise and the kind of raw passion she’d always dreamed about. “I’m not above playing dirty.” A sly smirk as he rubbed a lazy circle over skin she hadn’t known was sensitive. “In fact, I think you prefer it that way.”

“I do not!” Her heart beating far too fast, she clutched at the credit card hard enough to snap it in two.

“Liar.” He slipped under the collar of her T-shirt to wrap a possessive hand around the nape of her neck. “I’m waiting.”

She gritted her teeth to keep from moaning. How did one man feel so good? Hot and sinful. Irresistible. She whispered, “For what?”

“My answer,” he said, inching closer. Their mouths mere inches away.

She swallowed hard. The truth sat on the tip of her tongue, and for once in her life, she decided to speak it instead of stuffing it back down. “I’d regret it.”

“Exactly,” he said, the word a soft breath against her skin. The pad of his thumb brushed over her bottom lip, sliding over the dampness until it felt swollen. Needy. “I can’t live with myself unless I’ve tasted this mouth.”

This was one regret she wouldn’t have to live with. Her anticipation was a hot rush, and everything stilled inside her.

Another brush over her lip. The roughness of his fingers was an erotic slide over the smoothness. Sensual.

He leaned in.

She waited.

His tongue flicked over her moist, ready flesh. Her nails dug into the palm of her hand, and she let out a frustrated squeak. She’d never wanted to be kissed more.

A hard nip of his teeth.

“Oh!” Surprise and lust mixed together. It heated her blood, making her pulse beat wildly in her throat, jolting through her nerves and sending them into rapid fire.

She’d never experienced this before, this kind of desire.

She wanted more. So much more. Wanted to force the raw, uncontained passion she’d read about but never experienced, to force his mouth to hers and wrap her body around him to feel the hard press of muscle and bone.

But she was too afraid.

So she balled her hands into fists to keep from reaching for him. The plastic cutting her skin was a harsh reminder of where this interlude would end.

His lips brushed hers. Nothing but a tease.

Her breath stuttered in her lungs.
Do it. Please do it.

His gaze met hers, a blaze of heat. “I might never get to have you, but I’m going to make damn sure you never forget this kiss.”

“Yes,” she said, the plea in her voice making her cringe.

And then his mouth covered hers. So possessively arrogant that her head spun.

It was every fantasy she’d ever had and then some.

A fierce claiming. Carnal passion. Mad, crazy lust. Her mind went blank. She forgot everything and everyone but this man and the sensations rioting through her.

His tongue swept past her lips to tangle with hers. She moaned deep in her throat, a low primal sound.

He pressed closer, slanting his lips, angling deeper. Pushing her harder. He twisted her ponytail, coiling the thick strands around his hand.

He tugged hard enough that she jerked against him. The sting mixed with desire in her veins, sending her blood racing.

She forgot about propriety. Forgot about right or wrong. Forgot everything but wanting—no,
needing
more.

Her fingers uncurled, and the credit card slid from her grasp, falling to her lap. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she reached to grab what she wanted. Him.

Shifting in her seat, she pressed against his solid chest. Greedy, she snaked a hand around his neck and pulled him close. Not caring that it wasn’t like her, she took.

Harsh breathing filled the car as he yanked her closer.

The kiss grew wetter. Hotter. More demanding.

A low growl vibrated against her lips. He twisted her hair tighter, pulling until a sharp tug at the base of her neck sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine. She ached. Needing to relieve the pressure, she rubbed her breasts against his chest like a cat in heat.

He slipped a hand between their bodies and cupped one full, swollen mound. His thumb swiped over her nipple. She cried out, the sound captured by his mouth.

God help her.

He rolled the bud.

Her hips jerked, longing for friction. Aching for it.

He pinched the stiff peak. The pressure was hard enough to send stars flashing on her eyelids and searing desire low in her belly.
Oh, yes, again. Please again.

He wrenched away.

God, no. Not yet. Mindless, she chased his heat, wanting him back, needing his mouth on hers, but he held her away.

“No!” The urgent plea so instinctual she couldn’t have stopped it if her life depended on it.

He grasped her shoulders. “It’s enough, Maddie.”

The words were more effective than a bucket of ice water. She ceased her struggle, and reality and sanity returned in a cruel rush. The hot sting of humiliation replaced the burn of passion.

His harsh expression softened. “Come on now, Princess. Don’t look at me like that.”

She bit her lip, her throat tight with embarrassment. What was wrong with her? She’d been shameless. “I’m sorry.” Her apology was automatic.

“No. Stop.” He let go of her shoulder and grasped her chin in his big hand. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

She nodded, wanting to die of mortification.

He gentled his hold. “Believe me, you’re perfect. Too perfect.”