Can't Hardly Breathe. Gena Showalter
and Jase Hollister, Beck Ockley and Lincoln West are bringing friends to run the kissing booth.”
Beck Ockley, the husband of Harlow Glass.
He’s so rich, her mom once said, he buys a new boat whenever he gets the old one wet. Too bad he’s as dumb as a box of rocks. Only a fool would choose to spend the rest of his life with a woman like Harlow.
Carol refused to believe Harlow had changed. “Maybe,” Dorothea finally said. Not to see Daniel in action, of course, but to check out that kissing booth. “Scratch that. Yes.” She nodded. “I’m going, and you guys are, too.”
Lyndie’s nod held a scootch less enthusiasm. “Fine. I’ll be your incompetent wingwoman.”
“Bet I’ll be more incompetent than you.” Ryanne grabbed a carton of milk and a stick of butter from the fridge and asked Dorothea, “How do you want your eggs?”
Mimicking a meme she’d read earlier, she said, “In a cake, please.” She’d run five miles this morning, and she had internal wounds in need of soothing. Why not indulge her sweet tooth for once?
Ryanne snickered. “I have a chocolate ice-cream cake in the freezer.”
“You’ve got a chocolate ice-cream cake on the premises?” Lyndie jumped to her feet and basically shoved Ryanne out of the way mid-race to the freezer. “Gimme!”
Ryanne gathered three spoons. “I’ve never seen this chocolate-addicted side of you, Scott.”
“I usually only unleash her in private. But the fact that I’m willing to share with you should make you feel special.”
As soon as Lyndie placed the dessert on the counter, Dorothea crumbled the maple-glazed bacon over the top.
“Hey! What—” Lyndie began at the same time Ryanne said, “You can’t—”
“Trust me,” Dorothea interjected. “You’re about to weep with rapture. Bacon makes everything better, even cake.”
They dug in and moaned with bliss, Dorothea a little more heartily than the others. The salty-sugary treat went straight to her head in a dizzying, delicious rush.
“Who knew pigs in cream would rock so hard?” Ryanne said.
“I did.” Control nowhere to be found, Dorothea shoveled in another bite. “This is heaven on Earth.”
“Agreed.” The familiar voice startled—and horrified—her.
Heart thundering in her chest, she jumped to her feet. “Daniel.” Daniel Porter. Here. “I don’t understand.”
A glaring Ryanne extended her spoon as if it were a weapon. “How did you get in?”
“I knocked. You didn’t answer, but I heard voices and knew you were back here.” He shrugged, unabashed. “Your lock is a joke, by the way.”
“You actually dismantled—” Dorothea shook her head. “But why?”
He ignored her, saying to Ryanne, “I’ve already called the man who will replace the outdated lock with something even I can’t bypass. He’s tall, blond and has blue eyes. His name is Jude. Please don’t hurt him with your deadly spoon.”
“I don’t care what he looks like, or what his name is. If he shows up, he’ll be trespassing, just like you, and he’ll get locked up. I’m calling the...cops,” Ryanne finished lamely, shooting Lyndie an apologetic look.
Lyndie stared down at her wringing hands, her cheeks now chalk white. Fear radiated from her.
Fear? Just how bad had things been with Chief Carrington?
“Don’t worry, I’m leaving.” Daniel’s intense, amber gaze finally locked on Dorothea. “But first I’d like to speak with you.”
The air in her lungs turned to steam and evaporated; she began to wheeze, the urge to both fight and flee screwing with her head. “No, thank you? I mean, no. I’m having a girls’ night.” Translation: leave! Please.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “One way or another, I’m picking up where our last conversation ended. You sure you want to have an audience for that?”
He wouldn’t dare!
Who was she kidding? He would probably dare in a heartbeat.
“You guys had a conversation?” Ryanne lowered her spoon and arched a brow at Dorothea. “I’d love to hear the main topic...or were you guys too busy grunting to use actual words?”
Lyndie’s eyes widened like saucers. “Is he the raging diarrhea you were having?”
Kill me. Kill me now. Could this night get any worse?
She’d known a meeting had to happen sooner or later. Postponing it had been a mistake. If she allowed Daniel to say his piece now, she could say goodbye. Forever.
“Fine. If you’ll follow me...” Chin high, the rest of her trembling, she strode past him.
Heat pulsed from him as he followed her. Goose bumps broke out over her skin.
Once she reached the front door, hopefully out of the others’ hearing range, she faced him. Crap! He was so close she could have tripped over his shadow.
Bones threatening to melt, she moved two steps back. “How did you find me?”
“How did you know I was looking for you?” he countered. “Did you, perhaps, see me at your door and run?”
“I... Well...” She licked her lips. His hooded gaze followed the motion of her tongue, and the heat he was throwing off cranked up about a thousand degrees. In the next instant, he was looking at her as no man ever had. Not even her ex-husband. As if she were a mystery he had to solve. A dessert he wanted to eat. A treasure he expected to claim.
Her hands fisted. Someone needed to tell him a look like that made promises he couldn’t keep. And dang it, she hated that look almost as much as she loved it. It meant nothing to him but everything to her.
“Dorothea,” he prompted, “did you run away from me?”
Lying would lead to complications. How could she be expected to keep falsehoods straight when she could barely remember her name in this man’s presence? Still, there was no way she would admit to her cowardice.
“What I did or didn’t do doesn’t matter.” As she spoke, she waved her hands through the air to punctuate each word. A bad habit she’d fought most of her life, whenever her emotions got the better of her. “Tell me why you’re here.”
He closed what little distance separated them, and she backed up another step, then another, determined to remain at arm’s length. It wasn’t long before she smacked into a wall, and crap, he just kept coming until they were only a whisper apart.
A dark, dangerous whisper...
Her tremors redoubled as she breathed him in. He smelled like her favorite mix of essential oils: sandalwood, lavender and vanilla. And there was a good reason for that. She made soap as a special gift for the inn’s guests. A mistake, she realized now. She wanted to breathe him in forever.
“I’m here for you.” He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and brought her hand to his mouth. Out came his tongue, licking away a smear of chocolate. “I want to take you back to the inn and give you that orgasm you asked for—plus a couple more.”
What! He’s here to pleasure me?
“I didn’t... I mean...” Wet heat branded her core. “You’re too late? Stop tasting me?” Questions? Really?
“Mmm. You sure you want me to stop?” His voice deepened to a sensual purr. “Let me assuage my curiosity and find out if you’re this sweet all over. Let me see the exquisite body that haunts my dreams.”
The—exquisite—body in question