On The Rocks (Love After Midnight Book 3) Page 8

  “What were you going to do?” he asked, fingers on the hem of my sweater at my wrist again, only this time slipping beneath to caress the skin.

  I struggled to keep my breathing even. It was the barest touch and yet . . .

  “Anabelle?”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “You were leaving,” he said, stepping closer, and now I was contending with the feel of my hard nipples brushing over his chest. “Where were you going? Today, when you came out and planned on abandoning me to my shopping quest.”

  Look. I knew I should push back, knew I should continue being contrary just for self-preservation’s sake. This man could break me.

  So easily.

  But he was also . . . temptation.

  So much temptation crammed into a six-foot-plus package, so much temptation that my knees were weak, as was my resolve, and my tongue.

  “The beach,” I blurted.

  His eyes flicked down to my sneakers, my jeans, my sweater, up to the cloudy sky, a hint of drizzle in the air. “The beach?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Yes, the beach. Why do you care?”

  Another shrug, this one careless. “I could go to the beach.”

  “You—?” I was frowning, the question still on the tip of my tongue when he rounded the car and sat in the passenger’s seat. “What—”

  The door slammed.

  “I—” My mouth opened and closed like a fish. I knew it did, knew it looked ridiculous. And yet, I just stood there like a . . . fish.

  Did fish stand?

  Was I slowly going insane?

  The answers to each of those questions were both an affirmative and a negative. I was going to let the universe guess which answer belonged to which question. Although, I was slowly going insane, so really, I supposed I didn’t need to leave it to the universe.

  Snorting at my idiocy, I debated my options.

  I could call Brooke. Demand she come yank her brother out of my front yard, preferably by the ear. But he’d gotten my address from someone, and I knew my friends well enough to understand they’d probably looked for a moment to meddle.

  They were awesome. I loved them. They enjoyed meddling.

  So no, Brooke would probably just ignore my call.

  Or worse, say something like, “You should go for it with my gorgeous brother. Wouldn’t it be perfect? We’d be sisters!”

  Okay. Full disclosure. She would realistically only say the last two.

  I was the one lusting after her brother.

  Leaning down to glance through the driver’s side window, I jumped when I found those sunglasses pushed up on his head, those piercing blue eyes on mine. The color of the ocean.

  The ocean I wanted to visit.

  The ocean that would, more than likely, remind me of this man.

  He smiled. My thighs went to Jell-O.

  “Fuck,” I muttered, straightening even while I instinctively knew that I was screwed.

  Fine. Option two: gird my loins, ignore the attraction that was melting me from the inside out, and use this time to piss Hayden off so much that he realized I was not worth the trouble.

  Was I smart enough to know this was unhealthy?

  Yes.

  Did I care?

  No.

  Glaring up at the clouds for one long moment, I shoved down the bone-deep attraction, grasped on to reality (that being Hayden was not for me), then yanked open the driver’s side door. A second later, I plunked into the seat. A heartbeat after that, I had the keys in the ignition, the engine started up, and we were backing out of the driveway.

  “Cute house,” he said.

  “I actually live in the cottage out back,” I told him. “The owners retired recently and are getting ready to put it on the market.”

  “What does that mean for you?”

  I shrugged, a lot more casually than I actually felt. “Hopefully, the new buyers will be cool and want the rental income. Or,” I said, still affecting casual, though it was harder to do, especially since, of all the places I’d lived in the world, the small studio behind this medium-sized bungalow just a few blocks from the bar was my favorite. “I’ll move.”

  I’d hate it, though. I loved the main house as much as I did the studio.

  Modern but built to reflect the architecture of the area. Clean lines with a craftsman feel. The best part of the entire house? The backyard. So much greenery in what was a typically arid climate. But the marine layer regularly crept into this neighborhood and because of that, the garden was lush. Cute little flower boxes, a winding paved pathway, old growth trees, and an honest-to-God fountain.

  Like living in a fairy princess’s forest retreat.

  “Nice place to have to leave behind.”

  Yes, it was. But, “I’m good at leaving things behind.”

  Silence.

  A long moment of quiet that wound tighter and tighter. I could feel Hayden staring at me, but I refused to look, refused to do anything except keep my eyes determinedly on the road.

  Finally, he asked, “What kind of things do you leave behind?”

  My fingers clenched on the steering wheel, and I knew the movement revealed too much, knew it gave this interesting and intense man a glimpse of something I didn’t want to. But I still couldn’t stop the response, the words from pouring out and filling the space between us. “Same thing as you, I suppose.”

  His breath caught.

  I heard it, the last sound before more silence descended.

  Now, I wondered what was worse. His insightful questions, his flirting, or his silence.

  All rubbed my skin raw. All made me want to do things I shouldn’t—reveal too much, believe that he might want me, and stop the car, take his hand, and ask him if he was okay after everything that happened.

  But he wasn’t mine.

  Wouldn’t be mine.

  Maybe he could become family?

  The niggling thought made me want too much. I loved Brooke and Iris, Brent and Kace, but it was a love that was careful. These people took care with me, with my heart, with my pain. They loved me back, fiercely, had earned my trust over the years.

  Hayden hadn’t.

  And yet . . . he made me feel much more than I was comfortable with.

  Because I thought he could slot himself into my family quite easily.

  And when things didn’t work out between us, it would hurt like hell to lose Brent, Iris, Kace, or Brooke. I wasn’t cold enough to think that it wouldn’t, wasn’t dumb enough to think they’d choose me over Hayden. But I also knew I would survive it. Because I’d lost my mom, because I’d lost my dad, my sister, my brother—in different ways, but the loss was still there.

  But . . . a man would occupy a different space in my heart.

  I was too self-aware to not acknowledge that, no matter how much I wanted to stick my head in the sand and pretend it wasn’t like that.

  Hayden had looked at me on the porch less than a week ago, and I’d been flayed open, spread wide and available for consumption. I was the zombie, he was the brain. I was drawn to the succor and pulled too deep. It would devastate me when he was gone. There would be no going on, going back, no tucking it all down and moving on.

  I’d be broken.

  I knew that as intrinsically as I knew that giving in might be worth it anyway.

  He was a once in a lifetime man.

  Wild. Sweet. Persistent. Charming. Annoying. Sexy. Intense. Too many things and yet the absolute perfect amount.

  But I knew I wasn’t a once in a lifetime woman.

  And there was the crux of the issue. That was why I knew I wouldn’t be whole at the end of this.

  If you know the ending so easily, my baby, my mom’s voice murmured. Then why are you running so scared?

  “I’m not,” I muttered, forgetting myself, feeling Hayden’s eyes on my profile again, knowing I sounded unhinged or at least a bit kooky to be talking to myself when another human being was in the car.

  But I was good
at pretending.

  So, I just pretended I hadn’t said anything. Pretended he wasn’t there next to me. Pretended Hayden wasn’t a pulse in my heart, a longing in my soul, a—

  Take the hard way, baby. Just this once.

  I couldn’t.

  I can’t.

  Swallowing hard, I continued with the things I was good at—keeping my eyes on the road, smothering the cravings that would make me vulnerable. The freeway was quiet since it was too early for evening rush hour but too late for morning. Coming back from the coast would be a bitch, but I’d been planning on staying late enough to let the traffic settle.

  Except, now I had a companion.

  I wondered if I should turn back but discounted the thought the moment it crossed my brain. Likely, the stubborn, sexy man would camp out in my car and refused to move, even if I did drive home.

  “And I would sleep in here.”

  I jumped, knowing I hadn’t spoken aloud, but his quiet statement filled with heat and determination said he’d read my thoughts anyway.

  “What? Your mystery military group teach you ESP as well as how to rise from the dead?”

  “Fire.”

  I blinked, eyes darting to the right before I caught myself. And no, I was not going to ask him to explain.

  “The answer to your question is you are made of fire.”

  “Um, I don’t think I asked a question whose answer is fire.”

  “Okay.” A shrug. “So it’s the answer to the question you didn’t ask aloud, the one that’s pinging around in your head, the one that’s wondering why I’m interested and pushing this and wanting to know you more.”

  I frowned. “And it’s because I’m made of fire.”

  “Yes.” My brows stayed pulled together and I nearly jumped out of my skin when he brushed his fingertips over my cheek. “Yes,” he murmured, “because fire is attractive. Fire is admirable. Yes, because I like women who can hold their own. Yes, because I don’t give a shit if you bust my balls all day because that just means I’ll be able to kiss your smirk off that gorgeous mouth after you finish teasing me.”

  I swallowed hard, was quiet for too long.

  But those words. Fuck, I liked them so much.

  I couldn’t like them. It was dangerous and risky and I deliberately changed the topic back to something unimportant. “Brooke says I’d be more likely to gore someone with my horn”—I nodded at the unicorn that was perched on my dashboard—“than to fart rainbows.”

  A pause, and I thought he’d turn the topic back to fire and all those scary assertions.

  “I don’t know”—my gaze flicked to his again, saw the edges of his mouth curved into a sexy smile, the amusement in his eyes, and I relaxed—“farting rainbows is a special skill. Only the best in the world have it.”

  “Is that something your super-special-commando training taught you?”

  “Absolutely.” His smile went full grin. “Unicorn farts are a highly flammable and volatile substance. Only those with superior training can be trusted with their safekeeping.”

  I chuckled, totally unable to believe we’d gone from talk of fire to having a conversation about unicorn farts . . . and that I was enjoying it.

  “Who are you?” I asked incredulously.

  Silence, but then again, I was good at creating it, at helping it descend in a hot, uncomfortable blanket that threatened to stifle everyone and everything around me. Maybe that was my superpower. Well, the silencing ability paired with no shortage of caustic remarks and an uncanny ability to push people away.

  My amusement faded, my fingers clenched on the steering wheel.

  “I’m just Hayden,” he said, voice soft, tempting.

  My fingers stayed clenched.

  “And you’re just Anabelle.”

  Yeah, that was the problem.

  “I think you’re funny and sexy and beautiful. I want to get to know you better. That’s it. No strings or undercurrents—unless you’re thinking of the sexual kind, in which case, yes, I’ve been dreaming about fucking you since the moment I saw you perform calisthenics on Brent’s front porch.” He brushed his knuckles over my cheek. “I’ve woken up hard every morning since you kissed me.”

  I released a shuddering breath. “That kiss was supposed to make it so you didn’t like me.”

  Another brush, this time over the corner of my mouth. “It didn’t work.”

  Heat scorching through my body, I took the turn off for the winding highway that would lead down to my favorite beach. “It doesn’t make sense, Hayden.”

  Still close enough for me to smell, to feel, to . . . want.

  He leaned back, and it wasn’t a slice of disappointment I felt. It wasn’t.

  “I know,” he said, “that I’m just starting to get to know you, just beginning to understand what’s going on in that brain of yours. But . . .”

  “But what?” I prompted, unable to stop myself.

  I shouldn’t care about what he was thinking. And yet . . . I did. Admitting that, even just to my own mind, settled the flutters in my stomach, soothed the whirling mess that had been swarming my insides since the first moment I’d seen Hayden. Despite my attempts to pretend otherwise, I was drawn to this man.

  It made no sense.

  Life sometimes made no sense.

  A piece settled in my heart, the vice on my lungs eased.

  “But,” he said after a long moment, “you’re confident.” I felt his eyes on me but didn’t glance his way. To do so would reveal too much. I was confident in my own skin. I knew who I was . . . and who I wasn’t.

  That part wasn’t the problem.

  “You’re strong and assured behind the bar, protective of my sister, her friends,” he went on. “You don’t seem to have any doubts about your abilities or your intelligence, but you are completely clueless when it comes to how that confidence speaks to the rest of the world.” A beat. “And especially clueless about how it speaks to the male population.”

  “I’m not clueless,” I muttered, slowing as I navigated several switchback turns in a row.

  “You’re clueless about how I see you.”

  I sniffed. “You don’t know me.”

  “I want to know you.”

  “It—”

  “—doesn’t make sense,” he said softly, and this time instead of his fingers brushing my cheeks or my mouth, they captured a strand of my hair. “Like silk,” he murmured.

  I held my breath as I made it around the final turn, as I pulled into the parking lot, releasing it when I paused at the kiosk, rolled my window down, and waved to the park ranger who knew me on sight by now.

  “Make sure you bundle up,” Jacob said, the ranger I’d come to know just by the sheer number of times I’d visited this little beach. It had become my happy place, and the thirty-second conversations we had when I came in were just the right amount of social interaction for me. “It’s pretty cold out there today.” His mouth turned up into a smile. “Oh hey, I was going to see if you wanted to grab dinner after you’re done. There’s a great little restaurant a few miles down . . .” His eyes flicked over my shoulder, his words trailing off, and he was quiet for a long moment.

  After a second, I glanced in that same direction, saw that Hayden was staring at him coldly, and when I looked back, he seemed to force his gaze back to mine. I was beyond confused to see disappointment on the edges of his eyes.

  Was it because Hayden was in the car?

  He’d mentioned dinner several times before, but I’d always needed to get back.

  I’d just thought the invitations were because he was friendly. I peeked out of the corner of my eye at Hayden, saw him lift a brow that seemed to say, “You see?” and I liked the smug expression about as much as I enjoyed feeling like I was on my back foot in this interaction with Jacob.

  Was I really that clueless?

  Hayden’s self-satisfied look and Jacob’s disappointment told me that maybe I was.

  Shit.

  “Okay
, well, bye,” I said with an awkward wave. “I’ll uh . . . see you around.” I’d pressed the button for the window before the last syllable crossed my lips and hit the gas before the glass panel snicked closed.

  Heavy quiet descended as I navigated the nearly empty parking lot and slid into a spot.

  Hayden’s hand slid from my hair to my nape. “Still think I was talking nonsense?”

  “I—”

  I didn’t get a chance to finish my sentence, which was just as well, since I didn’t have any clue as to what I would have said anyway.

  What wasn’t as well—or at least not great for the wall I placed between myself and the rest of the world, and definitely not good for the purposeful distance I had inserted between this man and myself—was the kiss he laid on me.

  In fact, that touch of his mouth to mine sliced through the layers of concrete, dulled the sharp edges of barbed wire, and arrowed its way right into my heart.

  Uh-oh.

  Ten

  Hayden

  I was winning.

  No shopping.

  And now this addictive, intoxicating, arresting woman’s mouth was on mine.

  My cock had been alternating between a state of perpetual chub and rock-hard from the moment I’d seen her at her place. Incongruously, her sharp words had me gritting my teeth against the urge to get her to pull the car over and show her what they did to my cock. But the vulnerability in her eyes tempered that.

  This wasn’t a game.

  She really didn’t realize her appeal.

  I wasn’t sure if someone had been cruel to her—but I was damn sure going to find out and make them pay if they were—or if she just didn’t see herself clearly. Either way, I was going to make her understand.

  Yes, I knew that made me an egotistical asshole.

  No, I didn’t give two shits.

  Especially not with her lips pressing against mine, her body melting forward. I slid my hand into her hair, nudging the hair tie free, weaving my fingers into the silken black locks, tilting her head so that her mouth was at the perfect angle as I kissed her gently.

  Light. Soft. Coaxing.

  She sighed against my lips, hers parting, drifting open.