Restless
Restless
Kimberly Raye
Paige Cassidy is on a major self-improvement kick. Divorced from a man who swore she could do nothing right, Paige is making it her business to learn how to be a woman…in every sense. And sexy, restless Jack Mission is just the man to give her a few lessons in love….Texas bad boy Jack Mission is tired of being a drifter. He's ready to find a good woman and settle down. And beautiful Paige Cassidy is definitely good–in bed and out. But Paige only considers their erotic interludes "research." She's not looking for a commitment. And it's up to Jack to convince her that she's already all woman–his woman!
“Don’t turn off the lights. Please.”
Jack put the video camera aside. “Okay,” he said. “For now.” He stared at Paige for a long moment. “Close your eyes.”
“What?”
“Trust me, remember? I’m the teacher, you’re the student. Now close your eyes.”
She drew in a shaky breath and fought to calm her beating heart. “I don’t understand what this has to do with—”
“Sex appeal comes from the inside. You want to learn all about sex, then you need to realize your own sex appeal. You need to feel it, Paige. That’s what it’s all about. Feeling, not seeing or understanding. That’s why I want you to close your eyes. So you’re not distracted.”
She drew in a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.”
When her eyelids had fluttered closed, his voice suddenly seemed deeper, huskier. She could sense his nearness, feel the heat emanating from him. Suddenly, she was in a world where all that mattered was desire.
“That’s it, Paige.” He picked up the video camera again. “Now undress for me…”
Dear Reader,
I’m back again this month with another bad boy to heat up your nights! Jack Mission is a sexy, restless, love-’em-and-leave-’em type who returns home to Inspiration, Texas, for his brother’s wedding. Temporarily, of course. No way is Jack trading his wandering ways to settle down. At least, that’s his intention until prim-and-proper Paige Cassidy turns his world upside down.
It’s bold, it’s provocative, it’s a BLAZE! I love writing for such an ultra-sexy line! And it looks like I’ll be writing many more of these seriously sexy books. Look for my short story in the new BLAZE anthology, Midnight Fantasies, available in June 2001. And then watch for the launch of Harlequin’s newest—and hottest—series, Harlequin Blaze, also in 2001.
I love to hear from my readers. Please drop me a line c/o Harlequin books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9, or you can visit me online at www.kimberlyromance.com.
Enjoy, and have a deliciously sinful read!
Kimberly Raye
Books by Kimberly Raye
HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION
728—BREATHLESS
791—SHAMELESS
Restless
Kimberly Raye
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To Curt
I love you very much
Contents
Chapter 1 (#u3812ac8d-7957-5381-bd03-3d532e254b2c)
Chapter 2 (#u349ca5c9-095e-5ab6-9986-659ff426d6c8)
Chapter 3 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
1
SOME MEN WERE JUST made for sex.
The thought struck Paige Cassidy the moment she spotted the man through the lens of her video camera at the crowded wedding reception.
It wasn’t so much the way he looked, though he was handsome enough to make even devout manhater Imajean Strickner adjust her bifocals and smooth her heavy-duty girdle.
Tall and muscular and tanned, he stood just over six feet tall, his broad shoulders filling out the black tuxedo jacket to mouthwatering perfection. His ragged sun-streaked blonde hair caught the light and his strong jaw, sensuous lips and rugged air made her think of open prairie, wild horses and hot nights beneath a stardusted sky.
But it was more than his appearance that screamed HOT STUD ALERT!
It was the way he moved.
She blinked and adjusted her focus, her gaze fixed on his lean tanned fingers stroking up and down the long neck of his beer bottle. Up and down, slow and steady, again and again in a sensuous stroke she could practically feel along her spine.
And the way he smiled.
She watched as he leaned toward the blonde, blue-eyed woman standing next to him at the bar. She whispered something in his ear. His lips tilted at the corners, lifting in an enticing, suggestive grin that made Paige’s heart shift into overdrive.
And the way his liquid gray eyes seemed to deepen when his gaze snagged hers and—
He was looking at her.
Her hands went limp on the camera and she would have dropped it had she not been wearing the safety strap around her neck. He’d already turned back to the blonde, leaving Paige to wonder if she’d only imagined that brief, heart-stopping moment of eye contact. The intensity of his gaze, the heat…
“Say, there, Paige, how about cuttin’ up the dance floor with me?”
The voice came from behind her and she turned to find Shelby Hoover standing there, his straw hat in hand. He stared at the worn tips of his Justin boots peeking from beneath the hem of a pair of starched Wrangler jeans and rubbed a hand over the top of his burred black hair. His black mustache twitched at the corners as he chewed his bottom lip and waited for her answer.
Unfortunately Shelby didn’t rouse her hormones into an orgasmic frenzy, but the man did know his left foot from his right. What’s more, he was ready to settle down. And he didn’t go around flirting outrageously with pretty blondes.
Shelby wanted more. He wanted a house and kids and forever.
Just like Paige.
She glanced down at the bridal bouquet she’d caught and smiled. In Paige’s mind, she and Shelby were a perfect match, even if he hadn’t yet worked up his nerve to ask her out on a date. She wasn’t giving up hope. Shelby was just quiet. Shy. Insecure.
Qualities Paige had known all too well. Up until six months ago when she’d walked away from Cadillac, Texas, and a failed marriage. She’d headed straight for Inspiration and a brand-new improved life.
She’d been determined, but scared. Until she’d met Deb Strickland, the owner and editor of the town’s only newspaper and now, the prettiest bride Paige had ever seen.
She shifted her attention to Deb who stood across the room beside her new husband. The woman had given her a job and some much-needed help, which was why Paige had been more than willing to use her newly learned video skills to record her friend’s wedding to Jimmy Mission, the most handsome man in the county.
Unwillingly, Paige’s attention shifted back to the bar. Better make that one of the most handsome men in the county. Jimmy definitely had some competition for the title since his younger brother had rolled back into town, and straight into Paige’s line of vision.
She would have known Jack Mission anywhere. He was a legend in town. The cool, elusive drifter who wandered into Inspiration on occasion and then right back out. According to Deb, who knew everything about everyone in town thanks to her gossip columnist, Dolores Guiness, Jack was a legendary heartbreaker and not a man Paige should be wasting her thoughts on.
Her mind should be on Deb and making the best wedding she could. The woman had helped her so much. With Deb’s encouragement, Paige had managed to trade her shyness for a little sass, her quiet demeanor for a more outspoken one, and her insecurity for some much needed self-confidence. Deb had been one of the few people to help her when her sorry ex-husband had walked out on her, leaving her the new girl in a small, close-knit town.
Woodrow. His name popped into her head and before she could stop herself, she lifted a self-conscious hand to check for any wayward strands of hair. Woodrow had always hated her flyaway mane. It had always been too long or too short. Too straight or too curly. Too…wrong.
Her gaze collided with a pair of liquid gray eyes and her hand stopped a heartbeat shy of making contact. Heat bolted through her, pushing aside a lifetime of insecurity, until she felt only the beat of her own pulse and a fierce expectancy in the pit of her stomach.
He was so handsome. Those eyes and those lips…slightly large for a man, but just right for kiss—
“Paige?” Shelby’s voice drew her back around and heat rushed to her cheeks. She’d forgotten all about him! “Are you okay? You look a little flushed.” He eyed her. “Maybe we should just forget the dancing and try it some other—”
“No,” she blurted. Flushed or not, she wasn’t about to discourage Shelby when he’d finally worked up his nerve to ask her to dance.
“Don’t be silly.” She put on her brightest smile. “I’m just tired of lugging around this video camera. I’d love to dance. It’ll give me a chance to ditch this thing for a little while.” She dropped the camera onto a nearby table and, with the bouquet clutched in one hand, took Shelby’s with her other, determined to ignore the pull of the man who stood several feet away.
A few seconds later, she was moving across the dance floor as if she’d been born to it. Ironic considering she’d been the worst dancer in two counties up until a month ago when she’d enrolled in Earl Sharp’s Dancing for Beginners.
Paige Cassidy had been the worst at everything.
It’s all in the past.
She’d turned over a new leaf, started a new chapter of her life, and she wasn’t looking back. She had been naive and clueless way back when, but she was changing things. She was rising above her background and bettering herself by taking several self-improvement classes.
The past was over and done with and Paige was looking toward the future.
Her gaze strayed of its own volition to the handsome man standing at the bar before she gave herself a great big mental kick in the butt.
Men like Mr. Made For Sex had only one thing on their minds when it came to women, and it wasn’t the future. While he might be good for a wild, hot romp in bed, he wasn’t a forever kind of guy, and that’s the only kind Paige was interested in at this point. She’d fallen for his type before and found nothing but a world of heartache.
The next time she slid between the sheets, it was going to be with someone who would be there the morning after and the morning after that. Someone who wouldn’t take the best years of her life, then roll out of town one day with MaryJean Wallaby, the customer service clerk from the Piggly Wiggly with the biggest pair of boobs in the county.
Not a notorious love ‘em and leave ‘em type like Jack Mission.
No matter how her heart pounded every time she glanced his way.
AFTER THIRTY YEARS of living, there were only two things in life Jack made it a point never to do.
He didn’t stand within stomping distance of a newly broken horse, even one that appeared as calm as the Gulf on a hot summer afternoon.
And he didn’t dance.
Of course, it wasn’t the dancing itself he had a problem with. That was the fun part. Bodies touching. Rubbing. Feeling.
His gaze went to the redhead two-stepping her way around the dance floor, a full arm’s length of space between her and her partner, and he couldn’t help but smile. The way he moved to a sultry George Strait tune involved two bodies getting to know each other, but not everyone seemed to have the same notion.
She danced the same way she did everything else—prim and proper. Like the way she’d held the video camera, her back stiff and straight, a serious look on her face as if she were filming a late breaking news story rather than a wedding reception. Or the way she’d held her back so stiff and straight when she’d caught the bridal bouquet. Or even the way she’d eaten her slice of wedding cake—her napkin on her lap, her mouth firmly closed after each mouthful, not a crumb falling on her cover-everything-up floral print dress.
His gaze roved from her shoulders down to her waist—where there would have been a waist if the dress had been a little more flattering. It wasn’t. It hung like a sack, making her look shapeless from her shoulders to her trim ankles. His gaze snagged on the ankle bracelet glistening below her calf and his fingers itched to trace the path the gold followed.
Crazy. She wasn’t his type. She was like all the other women here who’d practically fallen over each other to catch his new sister-in-law’s bouquet. Marriage-minded. Every single one of them.
And dancing with such a woman, especially in a small town like Inspiration, was like courting. One led to two. Two to three. Next came dating and before he knew it, he’d find himself trussed up in another monkey suit, only he wouldn’t be standing in as best man this time. He’d be taking the vows himself.
He’d made that mistake before. He’d never make it again.
“How about it?” An attractive blonde motioned to the dance floor. “You want to prove you know how to use those boots you’re wearing?”
“I really appreciate the invite.” He smiled and held up his bottle. “But I’m still nursing this beer, sugar.” He touched the rim to his lips and downed a minimal swallow of the gold liquid.
“Later then?”
The refusal was there on the tip of his lips, but she looked so hopeful. Before he could stop himself, he nodded. “Later.”
He watched as she walked back to the cluster of women who hovered near the cake table, at least half of whom had already asked him to dance.
His gaze went to his beer. He had all of three swallows before later arrived and he had to make good on his word to all of them. Then again, if he took small sips, he could stretch it out to a good six or seven.
“Come on, stud. Let’s dance.”
“Sorry, darlin’, but I’m still working on this—” The words died as Jack turned to find his new sister-in-law smiling up at him, looking every bit as beautiful in white as he’d imagined when he’d gotten word that Jimmy was finally tying the knot. She had long, dark hair, bright blue eyes and a figure that had undoubtedly lured his brother like a bee to honey. But Jack had no doubt it had been her intelligence and the sympathetic glimmer in her gaze that had caught ole Jimmy for good.
“It’s a law,” Deb told him. “You have to dance with the bride, particularly if the groom is busy talking new breeding techniques with his new stepdad at the bar.”
Jack’s gaze went to the trio standing a few feet away—Jimmy, his mother and an older man with a gray handlebar mustache. The man slid his arm around Jack’s mother and she smiled.
“She’s had a permanent smile on her face since the two of them walked down the aisle a few months back. She looks happy, doesn’t she?” Deb asked, her gaze following Jack’s.
“Very.” A welcome sight because the last time he’d seen his mother, she’d been dressed in black, a tear-dampened handkerchief clutched in her hand as she’d watched his father’s casket lowered into the ground. A heart attack had taken the elder Mission several years ago while he’d been out riding fence. His mother had taken it hard, but just as his dad would have wanted, she’d eventually started to live again. He smiled. He couldn’t think of anyone who deserved a little happiness after so much heartache. “Red seems like a good man.”
“He is, and speaking of men, I’ve danced with everyone here with an X chromosome, except Jupiter Daniels, and word is down at the VFW that his X is questionable. That leaves my new brother-in-law.”
“So I’m a last resort, am I?”
“Maybe I saved the best for last.” She took the bottle from his hand and downed the last few swallows with one gulp. “Now you’re all done. Let’s go.”
“Nice wedding,” he murmured once they were moving around the dance floor. He caught the faint scent of apples and cinnamon and half-turned, only to see the redhead a few feet away, a serious expression on her face, her full lips moving as if she were counting each step. She was so stiff, he had the insane urge to haul her into his arms just to see if he could loosen her up.
It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that she had the fullest, softest looking lips he’d ever seen. And it certainly wasn’t because he actually wanted to feel those lips against his own.
It was the principal of the thing. They were at a wedding. A happy occasion. She ought to be enjoying herself.
“That’s Paige Cassidy.”
“That’s nice.” He forced his attention back to Deb and away from the numerous ways he could loosen up the wholesome looking redhead. Ways that wouldn’t leave her the least bit wholesome by the time he finished with her. Even if the very last thing he needed was to touch or kiss or even think about a woman like Paige Cassidy.
No matter how much he suddenly wanted to do all three and a whole helluva lot more.
“She works at the newspaper for me.”
“That’s nice.”
“She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
His gaze narrowed. “Get those notions right out of your head, little sister.”
Deb shrugged. “What’s wrong? You don’t like girls?”
“Not that type of girl.”
“And what type would that be?”
“The marrying kind.”
“And what’s wrong with the marrying kind?”
“Not a thing. They’re just not my kind.”
She gave him a knowing look. “You like those freedom-loving singles, huh?”
“They have their finer points.”
“Yeah, they get hives just thinking about commitment.”
He grinned. “Say, has Jimmy been giving you lessons on meddling? Because you’re really good at it.”
She gave him a pleased smile. “You think so?”
“You could have been born to it.”
“Thanks, but flattery isn’t going to shut me up.” She eyed Paige. “Don’t you think she’s pretty?”
He shook his head. “I plead the fifth on that one.”
“She is pretty. And she’s smart. And as nice as they come. And I think those glasses make her look sort of sexy, in a Katie Couric sort of way. Don’t you think?”
“You’re not getting anything out of me.”
“Come on, Jack.”
“No way. If I agree with you, you’ll haul me over there right now, and if I disagree, you’ll probably stomp my foot.”
“I’ll do that anyway.”
He grinned. “Either way, it spells trouble and I’ve already had more than my share.”
She gave him an exasperated look. “You need to meet a nice woman.” As if she’d just realized what she’d said, she shook her head. “God, what’s happening to me? Freedom was my middle name. I’ve been married a measly five hours and already I’m the spokesperson for marital bliss.” She shook her head. “You find your own woman. Just make sure she’s nice.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And smart.”
“Yes, boss.”
“And pretty.” He gave her a knowing look and she shook her head again. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop. So how long is the prodigal brother sticking around for this time?”
He arched an eyebrow. “How long until you get back from your honeymoon?”
“Two weeks.”
“Then I’d say about two weeks and an hour or so to pack.”
“Smart-ass.”
“I’m being truthful.”
“I know. That’s the problem. You don’t have to run off the second we get off the plane. You could stick around for a little while.” When he gave her a here-we-go-again look, she added, “This isn’t about getting married, it’s about settling down.”
“If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it’s probably—”
“I’m serious,” she cut in. “You can’t keep moving around from place to place forever. You’re thirty years old.”
“I like moving around from place to place, which is why I’m out of here when you guys come home. I’ve got a job lined up in Santa Fe next month with one of the biggest ranches in the southwest. They’re breeding and breaking their own cutting horses, but their trainer’s taking a leave for personal reasons. I’ll be filling in.”
“Temporarily.”
“Yep.”
“That’s pretty far away.”
“Yep.”
She gave him a pointed stare. “Don’t you miss your family?”
“’Course I do. But Jimmy’s busy with you and his new construction business. You’re busy with your newspaper. Mom leaves tomorrow to go on the road with Red for the senior rodeo finals in Vegas.” Red Bailey was the oldest living bull rider and had nabbed the championship in his division for the past five years in a row. “I’d say my family’s pretty much occupied for the time being, so no one’s likely to worry about whether or not I’m hanging around. Say, I thought you wanted to dance?”
“We are dancing.”
“We’re talking. Now this,” he twirled her and watched her smile, “is dancing.”
The conversation ended, thankfully, and for the next thirty seconds they moved faster, spinning around the dance floor until the song played down and Deb gave him a hug.
“Thanks little brother and good luck.”
“Shouldn’t I be wishing you luck? You’re the one who just married my pigheaded brother.”
“True.” A smile tugged at her lips as she stared past him. “But I’m not the one with a dozen or so single women headed straight for me.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and murmured, “Be strong,” before dashing off in a swirl of white.
Jack turned in time to see a cluster of women headed straight for him, each of them obviously ready to claim the next dance.
He glanced down at his empty hands and contemplated a mad rush for the bar. Then his gaze hooked on a familiar redhead exiting the dance floor barely an arm’s length away.
She’s not your type, cowboy.
Damn straight. She was like all the others, frilly and feminine and out to find herself a future husband.
With one exception. Unlike all the others, she wasn’t headed his way. Why, she hadn’t even smiled at him when he’d caught her eye from across the room.
For whatever reason, it seemed as if Paige Cassidy wasn’t the least bit interested in him.
And it was a shame, a damned shame, for anybody to look so uptight on such a happy occasion. She needed to loosen up, and Jack needed an escape.
He took two steps and reached for her hand.
“W-HAT ARE YOU DOING?” Paige blurted when Jack Mission slid his arm around her waist and steered her back out onto the dance floor.
“Last I looked,” he said as he swung her into his arms and started to move, “it was called dancing, sugar.”
Paige fought to keep from stepping on his toes, her senses overloaded by so much male heat. He was too close and this was too sudden. Just what the heck did he think he was doing?
He hadn’t even asked her to dance!
“I don’t really think—”
“It ain’t about thinking, sugar. It’s about moving. You can move, can’t you?”
The way he stared down at her, one blond eyebrow arched and a twinkle in his liquid gray eyes, stirred her indignation. “Of course I can.” And she’d spent good money to make sure of it.
“Then prove it.”
She had two choices. She could pull away, which wouldn’t be easy because Jack Mission had a very strong grip on her waist, or she could calm down, concentrate and make it through the next few minutes without embarrassing herself. “What dance are we doing?”
“I’ll let you pick.”
“It doesn’t work that way. Whichever dance we do is based on the speed and tempo of the song. This is a two-step. We should be going faster.”
He tightened his arms and drew her even closer. “Feels plenty fast to me.”
“It’s too slow, and too close.” She pushed against his chest and gained a few blessed inches of distance. There. Now she could breathe. More importantly, she could think. “We need speed and distance for this particular tempo.”
“Feels like just the right amount of distance to me.”
If only. Instead, Jack Mission filled her line of vision, surrounded her with his warmth and his scent and the hard, steady feel of his heart against hers—
The thought careened to a stop as she missed her step and stomped on the toe of his boot. Dread welled inside her. “Oh no.”
“It’s no big deal.”
“I missed a step.”
“I didn’t even notice.”
“I never miss a step.”
“Never say never.”
She glared at him. “You’re throwing me off.”
“Who? Me?” He grinned, a slow, heart-stopping expression that made her heart skip and her feet stall long enough for her to stomp on his foot again.
“Doggone it.”
“Sugar, you need to relax.”
“If you’ll just tell me what dance you’re doing, then I wouldn’t be messing up.”
“Are you always this uptight?”
“I’m not uptight. I just like to know what I’m doing.”
“Darlin’, just relax and breathe.”
Breathe? Was he crazy? Dancing wasn’t about breathing. It was about counting and watching your steps and…
Her thoughts trailed off as Jack pressed his hand into the small of her back and killed the few inches of distance she’d managed to gain. Soft curves met hard muscle and the air rushed from her lungs. Her nostrils flared and she drew in a deep breath. Bad move. His scent drifted across her senses, intoxicating her and she forgot all about trying to keep the rhythm and found herself taking another long breath. And then another.
He smelled of worn leather and virile male seasoned with a touch of danger that prickled Paige’s nerve endings and sent a rush of excitement through her.
“That’s better. You were way too stiff.”
“I was in a classic dance form.”
“It looked more like you had something stuck up your—”
“Good posture,” she cut in. “That’s lesson number one.”
“Says who?”
“Earl Sharp at Earl’s Dance Extravaganza. Lesson number two—” she said, trying to pull away again, but his hold was too strong. “There should always be a good six inches between you and your partner.”
“That’s no fun.”
“But it’s the correct way to do it.”
“And not much fun. I like to have fun.”
“And I like to know what I’m doing.” Paige thrived on it. She never, ever wanted to feel out of control again, and Jack Mission definitely made her feel that way.
He winked and her heart fluttered. “You’re doing just fine,” he told her. “Maybe a little heavy on your feet, but I like the way you’re stroking my shoulder.”
Her fingers clenched as she became instantly aware of her hand moving back and forth across the soft tuxedo material covering his broad shoulder. His grin widened.
“So which rule talks about stroking, darlin’? Four or five? Or are you just improvising?”
“Yes. I mean, no. I didn’t mean…” She frowned. Explanation? She had no explanation other than the fact that Jack Mission had made her forget six weeks worth of nightly dance lessons in less than two minutes. She’d stomped on his feet twice—better make that three times—and she’d forgotten everything she’d ever learned, especially the all-important fact that Jack wasn’t her type.
Her traitorous nipples seemed to have an altogether different opinion.
As if he felt the throbbing tips press into his chest, he gave her a knowing smile and dipped his head, his lips brushing her earlobe. “You know, maybe you’re not as uptight as you look.”
“I am not uptight.”
He eyed her for a long moment. “Darlin’, you’re as uptight as they get. An uppity up if I’ve ever seen one.”
“I am not,” she insisted, forcing her thoughts away from his delicious smell and the feel of his body against hers. She managed to concentrate for the next moment, until the song finished, and she finally, finally managed to pull away. She was about to turn and walk away, then her curiosity got the best of her. “So what’s an uppity up?”
His grin was heartstopping. “Kiss me and maybe I’ll tell you.”
At his words, a rush of heat went through her and sent her pulse fluttering. For a brief moment, she imagined the press of his lips against her own, the whisper of his breath on her mouth, until her common sense intruded along with a healthy dose of righteous indignation. “Kiss you?” She shook her head. Was he serious? “For your information, I don’t even like you.” On that note, she turned to walk away.
His deep chuckle followed her. “Why do you think I asked you to dance?”
2
“HEY THERE, JACK. Jimmy and Deb leave you here to clean up all this by yourself?” Red Bailey clapped Jack on the back and twisted one end of his graying mustache as he waited for Jack’s mother to finish saying goodbye to Judge Baines, the man who’d officiated at the wedding ceremony.
“They left me.” Nell Ranger, the Mission housekeeper and the closest thing Jack had to family next to his mother and brother, rushed by carrying a box overflowing with trash. She wore a blue dress pinned with a crushed carnation corsage. “Those two young’uns have a lot more sense than to expect this boy to clean up after them. Why, he never picked up his underwear way back when and I’d give a pretty penny that things haven’t changed much.”
Jack feigned a look of outrage. “Get ready to fork over the penny, darlin’, ‘cause I haven’t left a pair of underwear lying around in years.”
Nell stopped in the middle of gathering several dirty crystal plates and eyed him. “You mean to tell me you finally turned over a new leaf?”
“Not exactly.” He gave her a wink as he shrugged off his jacket. “I stopped wearing the damned things.”
“Just to get out of picking them up, I’m sure.” Nell shook her head and proceeded loading her arms with dirty cake plates.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re blushing, Nell Ranger.” Jack tugged his bow tie loose and stuffed it into his pocket.
“Nonsense.” She deposited the plates on a nearby tray. “I gave up blushing the day I went to work for your momma. Why, if I had a nickel for every time you or your brother said something outlandish, I’d be a rich woman.”
“Rich, huh?” He slid his arms around her bountiful waist and gave her a hug. “I’ve always wanted to find myself a sugar mama.” He kissed her cheek before she shooed him.
“Just never you mind trying to help. I’ve got Myrtle and the girls coming over to get this place in order just as soon as they take off their Sunday best.”
“I’d be glad to help.”
“And drive those old biddies to distraction with all those winks and smiles when I need to get some work done? No, thank you. You just take yourself off to bed right this very second. I declare, after roaring in here barely a half hour before the ceremony, you must be dead tired.”
Amen. Which could explain why he’d done something so foolish as to challenge Paige Cassidy to kiss him. No matter how good she’d smelled.
His nostrils flared at the last thought. Her scent, all apples and cinnamon and warm woman, clung to him and he fought back a wave of need.
Yep, exhaustion made a man do foolish things, and Jack should know. After his wife had passed away, he’d spent the next six months barely eating or sleeping. He’d drank his way through those days, only to open his eyes one morning just outside of Vegas and find himself married for the second time to a woman he’d known for barely two hours.
Never again.
He was getting some shut-eye and forgetting all about Paige, how sweet she probably tasted and how he really, really wanted to find out first-hand.
At least for tonight.
Challenging Little Miss Uppity Up had been the most fun Jack had had in a helluva long time. Judging from the desire burning in her gaze for those few stunned moments before she’d summoned her anger, she was just as intrigued at the prospect of playing a little game of liplock with him. Just as turned on.
For the time being, of course. Paige had made it very clear that she didn’t like him. That, alone, made her the perfect woman to help him sate the lust eating him up from the inside out. A lust she felt as intensely as he did. He’d been with enough women to make him somewhat of an expert and he could spot a hungry woman at twenty paces. Paige needed some relief as much as he did. Not to mention, she didn’t have any romantic notions about him. He’d given up romance years ago when he’d watched the preacher throw the first handful of dirt onto his first wife’s casket. His only wife.
I don’t even like you.
Yep, she was perfect, all right, which meant that come tomorrow, Jack intended to pay her a visit and see what he could do to get Paige Cassidy to accept his challenge. Soon. Jack had never been long on patience.
He could only hope Paige was just as impatient. Otherwise, it was going to be a heck of a long stay in Inspiration.
“I HAVE TO HAVE THEM,” Paige told the young man sitting at the desk opposite hers. “Now.”
He leaned back in his chair, his ankles crossed, his feet encased in a pair of orange flip-flops that matched the orange flowers in his Hawaiian print shorts. Wally, Deb’s former copy boy, might have been laying out at the beach rather than sitting in the small office that housed Inspiration’s only newspaper, the Inspiration In Touch.
Paige wiped the sweat from her forehead. It felt as hot as a day at the beach. Hotter thanks to the lack of windows and the lifeless air conditioner in the far corner.
“Would you just hold your horses?” Wally took a long sip on the straw sticking out of his glass of iced tea before shifting his attention back to the magazine open on his lap. “What’s the big hurry?”
“I’ve got an SAT meeting in a half hour and an hour’s worth of work to do before then. I need to see the notes on your article so that I can write the copy before I go.”
“Do it later. It’s the beginning of the week. The issue doesn’t go out until Friday.”
“And I’ve got a week’s worth of work budgeted until then. We’ll never get the paper out on time if we leave everything until the last minute. There’s work to do.”
“You work. I’m on strike on the grounds of unbearable working conditions.” Surprise lit his eyes as he glanced up at her. “Hey, did you know a woman gave birth to a fifty pound baby boy last week in Gentryville, Kentucky?”
“You actually believe what you read in those tabloids?”
“I do,” said the fiftyish woman sitting at a nearby desk. Dolores Guiness knew everything about everybody and was only too glad to spill every juicy detail each week in her Around the Town section, also known as The Gossip Column. “Not everything, mind you. But those trashy things do print decent articles on occasion. Like that presidential wannabe and the floozy a few years back. Then there was all the hoopla about Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley, some of which was garbage, but a lot of it panned out.”
“But a fifty pound baby?” Paige looked at the woman in disbelief.
“It could happen. Myrtle Simpcox’s niece over in Stafford knew this woman who had a neighbor who actually gave birth to twins that weighed twenty-five pounds each. Put ‘em together and bam, you’ve got your fifty pound birth.”
“See?” Wally shot her an I-told-you-so look.
“I still don’t think it’s a good idea to put too much faith in The Tattler. Now a real newspaper—” she tapped the copy on her desk. “That’s a different story. Real papers report real news. They have a responsibility to readers.” She eyed Wally. “Responsibility? Do you remember that concept?”
He gave her an exasperated look. “So what are you trying to say?”
“That you have a responsibility not only to our readers, but to Deb. She left you in charge because she trusted you.”
“She left me to roast in this hell. I can’t think in the heat. Give me air conditioning and I’m a super reporter. Until then, I’m struggling to keep my body temperature at a decent level. Want some raspberry tea? Jenny from the diner brought it over.”
“She still have the hots for you?”
“Unfortunately.” He shook his head. “By the way, you’re making my life miserable.”
Said misery had resulted from Deb’s infamous column—Deb’s Fun Fact for the Week—which Paige had inherited a few months ago when Deb had traded in her wild single woman status in favor of her upcoming marital bliss. The fun fact was a line or two of savvy love advice for the single women of Inspiration, such as “Sweeten Up Your Sweetie with Sweet Rolls” or “Light his Fire with Lingerie.” Since Wally was one of the few bachelors in town, the single females of Inspiration had targeted him as the perfect candidate to test out the weekly fun fact. The tea was courtesy of last week’s ‘Tickle his Fancy with Iced Tea.’
“You should be thanking me.”
“For robbing me of my privacy? For destroying my peace and quiet? For creating a town full of stalking sex-starved women?”
“On behalf of the women in town, I resent that. Privacy is overrated. Now hand over the notes.”
“They’re in the top drawer.”
“The one right next to you?”
“Yep.”
“The one barely six inches away from your right hand?”
“That’s the one.” He turned the magazine and studied the picture of the woman and her fifty pound bundle of joy from several angles. “True or not, this looks awful painful to me.”
“I’ll tell you what’s painful,” Dolores piped in from the corner, touching a hand to her gray coif. “I let Ida Louise over at the Cut-n-Curl frost my hair and I swear, she pulled out more than she colored.”
“Well you wouldn’t catch me letting Ida touch one hair on my head,” Wally broke in. “The woman’s as blind as a bat…”
The conversation continued and Paige let out an exasperated breath before stomping over to Wally’s desk and hauling open his drawer. Retrieving the notes, she headed back to her own desk and sank down into the seat. Sweat slid down her temples, her neck, and she grabbed a napkin to blot the moisture.
Wally shot her a knowing look. “Told you it was better to keep still in this heat.”
“Deb’s going to kill you when she finds out you sat on your butt all week while the world passed us by.”
“At the rate things are going, this heat’s going to kill me a heck of a lot sooner than Deb will. Besides, she’s a thousand miles away. How’s she going to know if I took a siesta in the dying heat of the afternoon?”
“Because Little Brother’s here watching you,” Dolores said.
Paige blotted her forehead. “Don’t you mean Big Brother?”
“She means Little Brother.” Jack Mission’s voice floated into the room and tickled the hair on the back of Paige’s neck. She opened her eyes to see him standing in the doorway looking dark and delicious, leaning against the lemon yellow colored doorframe.
Wally’s feet hit the floor. Papers rustled and his tea glass nearly toppled over. “I was, um, just doing a little research for a travel article.”
“For a trip to Gentryville, Kentucky?”
“No. I mean, yes. I mean, I’ve always wanted to go to Kentucky. And speaking of going, I’ve got to do the ‘This Is Your Neighbor Interview’ with Loretta Marks. She’s the new Sunday School teacher from Austin. Later.”
“I wouldn’t have thought he could move that fast considering the heat,” Dolores said. She leaned back in her seat, aimed her handheld fan at her face and eyed Jack. “So what brings you here?”
“Returning my tux.”
“Last I looked, Earline’s place was up the street. You’re at least a block out of the way.”
“I needed some exercise. Say, Dolores, is that a new hairdo?”
Her curiosity faded into a sheepish expression. She touched a hand to her hair. “Why, yes. I mean, it’s still the same style, but I had a new color job done just this past week.”
“My compliments to your colorist.” He tipped his hat and Dolores actually blushed.
Paige blinked just to make sure she was actually seeing correctly. Dolores Guiness never blushed. She made other people blush all the time with her know-it-all attitude and her all-seeing eyes, but never succumbed to turning red herself. Paige blinked a second time just for good measure. Sure enough, there was no mistaking the stain pinking Dolores’ chubby cheeks.
“It’s a shame you’re out in all this heat, though.”
“What?”
“I mean, a pretty hairdo like that won’t stand up for long in this. Is it always this hot?”
“My, my.” She clicked the button on her fan. “It is hot.”
“What happened to bearable?” Paige arched an eyebrow.
“I can’t very well go to the ladies’ auxiliary tea with wilted hair, now can I?” Dolores gathered up her purse and her notes. “I’ll just finish these notes up downstairs in the diner where it’s cool.”
“Sounds like a good idea.” He winked and Dolores blushed again before heading out the doorway.
“You’re related, all right.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The only other person who’s ever made Dolores turn that shade of red would be your brother Jimmy.”
“What can I say?” He shrugged. “It’s a gift.”
A few moments of silence ticked by before Paige finally found her voice. “So why are you here?”
“I was returning my tux.”
“I mean here, here.”
“You forgot this last night.” He held up his hand and for the first time, she noted the battered bridal bouquet that he held.
“Thanks. I’d forgotten all about it.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“What? That I’m having memory loss?”
He grinned. “That you were so shaken up after our dance that you couldn’t think straight.”
“You think so?”
“Darlin’, I know so. You wanted to kiss me.”
“You wanted me to kiss you. If I had wanted to kiss you, I would have.” She glanced at her watch. “I have to get going. I’ve got an SAT meeting over at the activity center.” She gathered up her purse and notebook.
“I’ll show you the way.”
“I know the way.”
“Then you can show me the way. I don’t think I’ve seen the new activity center. When was that built? Last year?”
“About five years ago.”
“I don’t get around town much when I’m home.”
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“What?” he asked, as he followed her down the steps.
“Following me.”
“Maybe I’ve always wanted to go to a SAT meeting.”
“Do you even know what SAT stands for?” When he grinned, she shook her head, then elaborated. “It stands for Sick and Tired.”
“That’s just what I was going to say.” He fell into step beside her. “Sick and tired of what?”
She smiled at him. Maybe it was a good thing he was following her. If he was so determined to make a nuisance of himself, the next half hour would undoubtedly change his mind. “You’ll see.”
“I don’t know if I like the tone of your voice.”
“Too late to chicken out now. Come on.” She took his arm and tugged him down the street.
“SO I TOLD HIM,” Harriet Miller said, “I would really like dessert.” She shook her head. “Do you really need that dessert? Harvey asks me.” She frowned. “So I said, I want that dessert. I deserve it, Harvey. I deserve it.” Her words met with a round of applause from the other women seated around the circle of chairs that comprised Sick and Tired, the women’s empowerment group Paige had been hosting for the past month.
“That’s wonderful,” Paige told the woman, desperately trying to ignore the man who leaned against the wall just inside the doorway, his arms folded as he watched her.
She’d expected him to run the other way the minute he discovered the nature of the group. Not many men felt comfortable in a group of venting women, but he’d simply smiled, said hello to several of the ladies he knew, and propped himself inside the doorway.
“So what did you have?” Louisa Jenkins asked. “The brownie or the apple pie?”
“The apple pie,” Harriet declared with a smile. “With a double scoop of ice cream and caramel sauce.”
“Atta girl!”
“You go, honey!”
“Score one for women everywhere.”
“Thank you, Harriett,” Paige told the woman, determined to ignore the way her skin flushed hot and cold every time she glanced at Jack. She was making it a point to avoid glancing at him or even thinking about him. She’d made it twenty-five minutes already. She could handle a few more. “That was a wonderful example of exercising your empowerment. Does anyone else have anything they would like to share? A moment when you realized you needed to speak up for yourself and did. Or maybe you simply realized it, but haven’t yet had the courage to make the stand. Either way, we’re here to listen.” Paige glanced around the group, careful not to let her gaze linger too long on Jenny Turnover, the newest addition to Sick and Tired.
Most of the group was comprised of women rebelling against their husbands, but Paige had the feeling that Jenny had more bothering her than a spouse nagging her to lose five pounds, or one that wanted his beer brought to him in a glass rather than a can. There was a glimmer of fear in Jenny’s eyes that Paige recognized all too well.
“Anyone? Remember, we’re here to help each other. To encourage and listen.” The group remained silent and Paige clapped her hands. “Well, then, let’s end today’s session with a few words of encouragement. As women, we need to speak up for ourselves and do what we think is right. We don’t have to fit into the mold that society has shaped for us. I hope you all remember that. And don’t forget, you are special. You’re entitled to the best things in life. Until next week, ladies.”
After a little chitchat, the group disbursed and Paige turned to gather up her notes.
She paused, every nerve in her body going on instant alert when she felt Jack’s hand on her arm. She turned toward him.
“Now I know what’s wrong with you. This,” he fluffed her ruffled sleeve, “is just a disguise. You’re really a man-hater.”
“I do not hate men. Just because I’m a capable woman and I encourage other women to be capable, doesn’t mean I don’t like the opposite sex.”
“You don’t like me.” He seemed proud of the fact.
“I don’t dislike you. You’re just not my type.”
“But you want me anyway.”
“I do not.”
“Oh really?” He fingered her nipple through the thin fabric of her dress.
She stepped back from his touch. “That’s just physical.”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” And before she could say a word, his lips covered hers.
His mouth moved against hers, his tongue sweeping her bottom lip, begging her to open up and let him inside, and for a split second, she couldn’t think or even breathe. Her heart all but stopped beating and she just stood there, feeling him against her, coaxing her, seducing her.
His arms pulled her close and his body pressed the length of hers, his heat overwhelming her until her knees actually went limp. His tongue teased and his lips nibbled and she couldn’t stop her mouth from opening. He swept inside, tasting and stroking and stealing her common sense for a long, heart-pounding moment.
When he finally pulled away and stared down at her, she simply stared up at him.
“I was right.”
“About what?” she said, still dazed.
“You wanted to kiss me.”
“I…” The word yes was on the tip of her tongue, but it couldn’t quite make it any further. “I’m late,” she blurted. “I—I have to get back to the paper.” She snatched up her purse and notebook and left as fast as her feet could carry her.
She needed to breathe, to think, to figure out what the heck had just happened.
It was the worst kiss of her life.
IT HAD BEEN THE WORST KISS of Paige’s entire life.
Not the kiss itself, mind you. That had been terrific. Wonderful. Stupendous. Jack Mission knew exactly how to slant his mouth just so and stroke his tongue along the length of hers and lick…
She fought down a sudden burst of heat that pebbled her nipples and made her walk faster toward the safe refuge of the newspaper office.
No, it wasn’t the kiss itself that had been so horrible. It had been her reaction to it. The wonder she’d felt, the awe, the total cluelessness. Her mind had gone completely blank and she’d been dumbfounded as to what to do next. As if Jack Mission’s kiss had been her first kiss ever.
Pathetic.
True, it was the first kiss she’d had in months, but it wasn’t the first time she’d locked lips with a man. She knew how to kiss for pity’s sake.
Okay, so she’d only kissed three men and one qualified more as a boy, but she’d had many kisses since her very first during a game of spin the bottle at a birthday party when she’d been thirteen. She’d been married, for crying out loud.
Can’t you do anything right, woman?
The question echoed through her head and brought back a wave of anxiety. For so long, she hadn’t been able to do anything right. She hadn’t been able to dress appropriately or clean good enough or cook well enough or—
Water under the bridge.
She’d started a new life and broadened her horizons. Thanks to her weekly cooking lessons, she could actually do more than boil water. She could strip her no-wax floors better than Mr. Clean himself, and she actually wore more than just jeans and oversized T-shirts.
And the kissing?
Before she could dwell on the question, she heard a voice behind her. She slowed and turned in time to see Shelby gaining on her, his hat in hand.
“Hey, Shelby.”
“I hope I’m not keeping you from something. You look like you’re in an awful hurry, but I really wanted to talk to you about something.”
“I was just headed back to finish up a story. You can walk with me.”
“That’s okay. I’ve got a load of hay to drive back to my place. This’ll just take a second. Say, you did a good two-step the other night.”
“What?”
“I saw you dancing with Jack. You did a good box waltz.”
“That’s what I was doing?” Of course it was. She would have known a box waltz anywhere.
Except with Jack Mission as her partner.
He’d pulled her close and she’d been conscious of only one thing—him.
“Look, I was thinking that maybe, if you’re not busy next Friday night…”
Here it was. The moment she’d been waiting for. Shelby was actually going to ask her out.
“That is, I’ve been meaning to try this new steakhouse out on Route Five and I thought that if you like steak—”
“Geez, I’m late.” She made a big pretense of glancing at her watch. “I’ve got an interview over at City Hall with the sheriff.”
“Sure. I just thought that if you wanted to try—”
“Did you hear that?”
He glanced behind him. “What?”
“That noise. It sounded like Deb’s cat. She’s back at the newspaper office and she’s been so lonely with Deb out of town, she’s taken up howling.”
“They’ve only been gone a couple of days.”
“And the poor thing’s already grieving. I really need to see about her and then get to my interview. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Before he could get in another word, she turned and started down the street.
What the heck had she just done?
She’d been waiting for him to ask her out. Hoping for it.
But that was before the kiss. Before she’d realized how totally inept she was when it came to interacting with the opposite sex on a romantic level. She didn’t know how to kiss right! How could she go out with Shelby when a date was surely going to lead to an intimacy she was totally unprepared for.
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Kimberly Raye
Paige Cassidy is on a major self-improvement kick. Divorced from a man who swore she could do nothing right, Paige is making it her business to learn how to be a woman…in every sense. And sexy, restless Jack Mission is just the man to give her a few lessons in love….Texas bad boy Jack Mission is tired of being a drifter. He's ready to find a good woman and settle down. And beautiful Paige Cassidy is definitely good–in bed and out. But Paige only considers their erotic interludes "research." She's not looking for a commitment. And it's up to Jack to convince her that she's already all woman–his woman!
“Don’t turn off the lights. Please.”
Jack put the video camera aside. “Okay,” he said. “For now.” He stared at Paige for a long moment. “Close your eyes.”
“What?”
“Trust me, remember? I’m the teacher, you’re the student. Now close your eyes.”
She drew in a shaky breath and fought to calm her beating heart. “I don’t understand what this has to do with—”
“Sex appeal comes from the inside. You want to learn all about sex, then you need to realize your own sex appeal. You need to feel it, Paige. That’s what it’s all about. Feeling, not seeing or understanding. That’s why I want you to close your eyes. So you’re not distracted.”
She drew in a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.”
When her eyelids had fluttered closed, his voice suddenly seemed deeper, huskier. She could sense his nearness, feel the heat emanating from him. Suddenly, she was in a world where all that mattered was desire.
“That’s it, Paige.” He picked up the video camera again. “Now undress for me…”
Dear Reader,
I’m back again this month with another bad boy to heat up your nights! Jack Mission is a sexy, restless, love-’em-and-leave-’em type who returns home to Inspiration, Texas, for his brother’s wedding. Temporarily, of course. No way is Jack trading his wandering ways to settle down. At least, that’s his intention until prim-and-proper Paige Cassidy turns his world upside down.
It’s bold, it’s provocative, it’s a BLAZE! I love writing for such an ultra-sexy line! And it looks like I’ll be writing many more of these seriously sexy books. Look for my short story in the new BLAZE anthology, Midnight Fantasies, available in June 2001. And then watch for the launch of Harlequin’s newest—and hottest—series, Harlequin Blaze, also in 2001.
I love to hear from my readers. Please drop me a line c/o Harlequin books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9, or you can visit me online at www.kimberlyromance.com.
Enjoy, and have a deliciously sinful read!
Kimberly Raye
Books by Kimberly Raye
HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION
728—BREATHLESS
791—SHAMELESS
Restless
Kimberly Raye
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To Curt
I love you very much
Contents
Chapter 1 (#u3812ac8d-7957-5381-bd03-3d532e254b2c)
Chapter 2 (#u349ca5c9-095e-5ab6-9986-659ff426d6c8)
Chapter 3 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
1
SOME MEN WERE JUST made for sex.
The thought struck Paige Cassidy the moment she spotted the man through the lens of her video camera at the crowded wedding reception.
It wasn’t so much the way he looked, though he was handsome enough to make even devout manhater Imajean Strickner adjust her bifocals and smooth her heavy-duty girdle.
Tall and muscular and tanned, he stood just over six feet tall, his broad shoulders filling out the black tuxedo jacket to mouthwatering perfection. His ragged sun-streaked blonde hair caught the light and his strong jaw, sensuous lips and rugged air made her think of open prairie, wild horses and hot nights beneath a stardusted sky.
But it was more than his appearance that screamed HOT STUD ALERT!
It was the way he moved.
She blinked and adjusted her focus, her gaze fixed on his lean tanned fingers stroking up and down the long neck of his beer bottle. Up and down, slow and steady, again and again in a sensuous stroke she could practically feel along her spine.
And the way he smiled.
She watched as he leaned toward the blonde, blue-eyed woman standing next to him at the bar. She whispered something in his ear. His lips tilted at the corners, lifting in an enticing, suggestive grin that made Paige’s heart shift into overdrive.
And the way his liquid gray eyes seemed to deepen when his gaze snagged hers and—
He was looking at her.
Her hands went limp on the camera and she would have dropped it had she not been wearing the safety strap around her neck. He’d already turned back to the blonde, leaving Paige to wonder if she’d only imagined that brief, heart-stopping moment of eye contact. The intensity of his gaze, the heat…
“Say, there, Paige, how about cuttin’ up the dance floor with me?”
The voice came from behind her and she turned to find Shelby Hoover standing there, his straw hat in hand. He stared at the worn tips of his Justin boots peeking from beneath the hem of a pair of starched Wrangler jeans and rubbed a hand over the top of his burred black hair. His black mustache twitched at the corners as he chewed his bottom lip and waited for her answer.
Unfortunately Shelby didn’t rouse her hormones into an orgasmic frenzy, but the man did know his left foot from his right. What’s more, he was ready to settle down. And he didn’t go around flirting outrageously with pretty blondes.
Shelby wanted more. He wanted a house and kids and forever.
Just like Paige.
She glanced down at the bridal bouquet she’d caught and smiled. In Paige’s mind, she and Shelby were a perfect match, even if he hadn’t yet worked up his nerve to ask her out on a date. She wasn’t giving up hope. Shelby was just quiet. Shy. Insecure.
Qualities Paige had known all too well. Up until six months ago when she’d walked away from Cadillac, Texas, and a failed marriage. She’d headed straight for Inspiration and a brand-new improved life.
She’d been determined, but scared. Until she’d met Deb Strickland, the owner and editor of the town’s only newspaper and now, the prettiest bride Paige had ever seen.
She shifted her attention to Deb who stood across the room beside her new husband. The woman had given her a job and some much-needed help, which was why Paige had been more than willing to use her newly learned video skills to record her friend’s wedding to Jimmy Mission, the most handsome man in the county.
Unwillingly, Paige’s attention shifted back to the bar. Better make that one of the most handsome men in the county. Jimmy definitely had some competition for the title since his younger brother had rolled back into town, and straight into Paige’s line of vision.
She would have known Jack Mission anywhere. He was a legend in town. The cool, elusive drifter who wandered into Inspiration on occasion and then right back out. According to Deb, who knew everything about everyone in town thanks to her gossip columnist, Dolores Guiness, Jack was a legendary heartbreaker and not a man Paige should be wasting her thoughts on.
Her mind should be on Deb and making the best wedding she could. The woman had helped her so much. With Deb’s encouragement, Paige had managed to trade her shyness for a little sass, her quiet demeanor for a more outspoken one, and her insecurity for some much needed self-confidence. Deb had been one of the few people to help her when her sorry ex-husband had walked out on her, leaving her the new girl in a small, close-knit town.
Woodrow. His name popped into her head and before she could stop herself, she lifted a self-conscious hand to check for any wayward strands of hair. Woodrow had always hated her flyaway mane. It had always been too long or too short. Too straight or too curly. Too…wrong.
Her gaze collided with a pair of liquid gray eyes and her hand stopped a heartbeat shy of making contact. Heat bolted through her, pushing aside a lifetime of insecurity, until she felt only the beat of her own pulse and a fierce expectancy in the pit of her stomach.
He was so handsome. Those eyes and those lips…slightly large for a man, but just right for kiss—
“Paige?” Shelby’s voice drew her back around and heat rushed to her cheeks. She’d forgotten all about him! “Are you okay? You look a little flushed.” He eyed her. “Maybe we should just forget the dancing and try it some other—”
“No,” she blurted. Flushed or not, she wasn’t about to discourage Shelby when he’d finally worked up his nerve to ask her to dance.
“Don’t be silly.” She put on her brightest smile. “I’m just tired of lugging around this video camera. I’d love to dance. It’ll give me a chance to ditch this thing for a little while.” She dropped the camera onto a nearby table and, with the bouquet clutched in one hand, took Shelby’s with her other, determined to ignore the pull of the man who stood several feet away.
A few seconds later, she was moving across the dance floor as if she’d been born to it. Ironic considering she’d been the worst dancer in two counties up until a month ago when she’d enrolled in Earl Sharp’s Dancing for Beginners.
Paige Cassidy had been the worst at everything.
It’s all in the past.
She’d turned over a new leaf, started a new chapter of her life, and she wasn’t looking back. She had been naive and clueless way back when, but she was changing things. She was rising above her background and bettering herself by taking several self-improvement classes.
The past was over and done with and Paige was looking toward the future.
Her gaze strayed of its own volition to the handsome man standing at the bar before she gave herself a great big mental kick in the butt.
Men like Mr. Made For Sex had only one thing on their minds when it came to women, and it wasn’t the future. While he might be good for a wild, hot romp in bed, he wasn’t a forever kind of guy, and that’s the only kind Paige was interested in at this point. She’d fallen for his type before and found nothing but a world of heartache.
The next time she slid between the sheets, it was going to be with someone who would be there the morning after and the morning after that. Someone who wouldn’t take the best years of her life, then roll out of town one day with MaryJean Wallaby, the customer service clerk from the Piggly Wiggly with the biggest pair of boobs in the county.
Not a notorious love ‘em and leave ‘em type like Jack Mission.
No matter how her heart pounded every time she glanced his way.
AFTER THIRTY YEARS of living, there were only two things in life Jack made it a point never to do.
He didn’t stand within stomping distance of a newly broken horse, even one that appeared as calm as the Gulf on a hot summer afternoon.
And he didn’t dance.
Of course, it wasn’t the dancing itself he had a problem with. That was the fun part. Bodies touching. Rubbing. Feeling.
His gaze went to the redhead two-stepping her way around the dance floor, a full arm’s length of space between her and her partner, and he couldn’t help but smile. The way he moved to a sultry George Strait tune involved two bodies getting to know each other, but not everyone seemed to have the same notion.
She danced the same way she did everything else—prim and proper. Like the way she’d held the video camera, her back stiff and straight, a serious look on her face as if she were filming a late breaking news story rather than a wedding reception. Or the way she’d held her back so stiff and straight when she’d caught the bridal bouquet. Or even the way she’d eaten her slice of wedding cake—her napkin on her lap, her mouth firmly closed after each mouthful, not a crumb falling on her cover-everything-up floral print dress.
His gaze roved from her shoulders down to her waist—where there would have been a waist if the dress had been a little more flattering. It wasn’t. It hung like a sack, making her look shapeless from her shoulders to her trim ankles. His gaze snagged on the ankle bracelet glistening below her calf and his fingers itched to trace the path the gold followed.
Crazy. She wasn’t his type. She was like all the other women here who’d practically fallen over each other to catch his new sister-in-law’s bouquet. Marriage-minded. Every single one of them.
And dancing with such a woman, especially in a small town like Inspiration, was like courting. One led to two. Two to three. Next came dating and before he knew it, he’d find himself trussed up in another monkey suit, only he wouldn’t be standing in as best man this time. He’d be taking the vows himself.
He’d made that mistake before. He’d never make it again.
“How about it?” An attractive blonde motioned to the dance floor. “You want to prove you know how to use those boots you’re wearing?”
“I really appreciate the invite.” He smiled and held up his bottle. “But I’m still nursing this beer, sugar.” He touched the rim to his lips and downed a minimal swallow of the gold liquid.
“Later then?”
The refusal was there on the tip of his lips, but she looked so hopeful. Before he could stop himself, he nodded. “Later.”
He watched as she walked back to the cluster of women who hovered near the cake table, at least half of whom had already asked him to dance.
His gaze went to his beer. He had all of three swallows before later arrived and he had to make good on his word to all of them. Then again, if he took small sips, he could stretch it out to a good six or seven.
“Come on, stud. Let’s dance.”
“Sorry, darlin’, but I’m still working on this—” The words died as Jack turned to find his new sister-in-law smiling up at him, looking every bit as beautiful in white as he’d imagined when he’d gotten word that Jimmy was finally tying the knot. She had long, dark hair, bright blue eyes and a figure that had undoubtedly lured his brother like a bee to honey. But Jack had no doubt it had been her intelligence and the sympathetic glimmer in her gaze that had caught ole Jimmy for good.
“It’s a law,” Deb told him. “You have to dance with the bride, particularly if the groom is busy talking new breeding techniques with his new stepdad at the bar.”
Jack’s gaze went to the trio standing a few feet away—Jimmy, his mother and an older man with a gray handlebar mustache. The man slid his arm around Jack’s mother and she smiled.
“She’s had a permanent smile on her face since the two of them walked down the aisle a few months back. She looks happy, doesn’t she?” Deb asked, her gaze following Jack’s.
“Very.” A welcome sight because the last time he’d seen his mother, she’d been dressed in black, a tear-dampened handkerchief clutched in her hand as she’d watched his father’s casket lowered into the ground. A heart attack had taken the elder Mission several years ago while he’d been out riding fence. His mother had taken it hard, but just as his dad would have wanted, she’d eventually started to live again. He smiled. He couldn’t think of anyone who deserved a little happiness after so much heartache. “Red seems like a good man.”
“He is, and speaking of men, I’ve danced with everyone here with an X chromosome, except Jupiter Daniels, and word is down at the VFW that his X is questionable. That leaves my new brother-in-law.”
“So I’m a last resort, am I?”
“Maybe I saved the best for last.” She took the bottle from his hand and downed the last few swallows with one gulp. “Now you’re all done. Let’s go.”
“Nice wedding,” he murmured once they were moving around the dance floor. He caught the faint scent of apples and cinnamon and half-turned, only to see the redhead a few feet away, a serious expression on her face, her full lips moving as if she were counting each step. She was so stiff, he had the insane urge to haul her into his arms just to see if he could loosen her up.
It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that she had the fullest, softest looking lips he’d ever seen. And it certainly wasn’t because he actually wanted to feel those lips against his own.
It was the principal of the thing. They were at a wedding. A happy occasion. She ought to be enjoying herself.
“That’s Paige Cassidy.”
“That’s nice.” He forced his attention back to Deb and away from the numerous ways he could loosen up the wholesome looking redhead. Ways that wouldn’t leave her the least bit wholesome by the time he finished with her. Even if the very last thing he needed was to touch or kiss or even think about a woman like Paige Cassidy.
No matter how much he suddenly wanted to do all three and a whole helluva lot more.
“She works at the newspaper for me.”
“That’s nice.”
“She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
His gaze narrowed. “Get those notions right out of your head, little sister.”
Deb shrugged. “What’s wrong? You don’t like girls?”
“Not that type of girl.”
“And what type would that be?”
“The marrying kind.”
“And what’s wrong with the marrying kind?”
“Not a thing. They’re just not my kind.”
She gave him a knowing look. “You like those freedom-loving singles, huh?”
“They have their finer points.”
“Yeah, they get hives just thinking about commitment.”
He grinned. “Say, has Jimmy been giving you lessons on meddling? Because you’re really good at it.”
She gave him a pleased smile. “You think so?”
“You could have been born to it.”
“Thanks, but flattery isn’t going to shut me up.” She eyed Paige. “Don’t you think she’s pretty?”
He shook his head. “I plead the fifth on that one.”
“She is pretty. And she’s smart. And as nice as they come. And I think those glasses make her look sort of sexy, in a Katie Couric sort of way. Don’t you think?”
“You’re not getting anything out of me.”
“Come on, Jack.”
“No way. If I agree with you, you’ll haul me over there right now, and if I disagree, you’ll probably stomp my foot.”
“I’ll do that anyway.”
He grinned. “Either way, it spells trouble and I’ve already had more than my share.”
She gave him an exasperated look. “You need to meet a nice woman.” As if she’d just realized what she’d said, she shook her head. “God, what’s happening to me? Freedom was my middle name. I’ve been married a measly five hours and already I’m the spokesperson for marital bliss.” She shook her head. “You find your own woman. Just make sure she’s nice.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And smart.”
“Yes, boss.”
“And pretty.” He gave her a knowing look and she shook her head again. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop. So how long is the prodigal brother sticking around for this time?”
He arched an eyebrow. “How long until you get back from your honeymoon?”
“Two weeks.”
“Then I’d say about two weeks and an hour or so to pack.”
“Smart-ass.”
“I’m being truthful.”
“I know. That’s the problem. You don’t have to run off the second we get off the plane. You could stick around for a little while.” When he gave her a here-we-go-again look, she added, “This isn’t about getting married, it’s about settling down.”
“If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it’s probably—”
“I’m serious,” she cut in. “You can’t keep moving around from place to place forever. You’re thirty years old.”
“I like moving around from place to place, which is why I’m out of here when you guys come home. I’ve got a job lined up in Santa Fe next month with one of the biggest ranches in the southwest. They’re breeding and breaking their own cutting horses, but their trainer’s taking a leave for personal reasons. I’ll be filling in.”
“Temporarily.”
“Yep.”
“That’s pretty far away.”
“Yep.”
She gave him a pointed stare. “Don’t you miss your family?”
“’Course I do. But Jimmy’s busy with you and his new construction business. You’re busy with your newspaper. Mom leaves tomorrow to go on the road with Red for the senior rodeo finals in Vegas.” Red Bailey was the oldest living bull rider and had nabbed the championship in his division for the past five years in a row. “I’d say my family’s pretty much occupied for the time being, so no one’s likely to worry about whether or not I’m hanging around. Say, I thought you wanted to dance?”
“We are dancing.”
“We’re talking. Now this,” he twirled her and watched her smile, “is dancing.”
The conversation ended, thankfully, and for the next thirty seconds they moved faster, spinning around the dance floor until the song played down and Deb gave him a hug.
“Thanks little brother and good luck.”
“Shouldn’t I be wishing you luck? You’re the one who just married my pigheaded brother.”
“True.” A smile tugged at her lips as she stared past him. “But I’m not the one with a dozen or so single women headed straight for me.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and murmured, “Be strong,” before dashing off in a swirl of white.
Jack turned in time to see a cluster of women headed straight for him, each of them obviously ready to claim the next dance.
He glanced down at his empty hands and contemplated a mad rush for the bar. Then his gaze hooked on a familiar redhead exiting the dance floor barely an arm’s length away.
She’s not your type, cowboy.
Damn straight. She was like all the others, frilly and feminine and out to find herself a future husband.
With one exception. Unlike all the others, she wasn’t headed his way. Why, she hadn’t even smiled at him when he’d caught her eye from across the room.
For whatever reason, it seemed as if Paige Cassidy wasn’t the least bit interested in him.
And it was a shame, a damned shame, for anybody to look so uptight on such a happy occasion. She needed to loosen up, and Jack needed an escape.
He took two steps and reached for her hand.
“W-HAT ARE YOU DOING?” Paige blurted when Jack Mission slid his arm around her waist and steered her back out onto the dance floor.
“Last I looked,” he said as he swung her into his arms and started to move, “it was called dancing, sugar.”
Paige fought to keep from stepping on his toes, her senses overloaded by so much male heat. He was too close and this was too sudden. Just what the heck did he think he was doing?
He hadn’t even asked her to dance!
“I don’t really think—”
“It ain’t about thinking, sugar. It’s about moving. You can move, can’t you?”
The way he stared down at her, one blond eyebrow arched and a twinkle in his liquid gray eyes, stirred her indignation. “Of course I can.” And she’d spent good money to make sure of it.
“Then prove it.”
She had two choices. She could pull away, which wouldn’t be easy because Jack Mission had a very strong grip on her waist, or she could calm down, concentrate and make it through the next few minutes without embarrassing herself. “What dance are we doing?”
“I’ll let you pick.”
“It doesn’t work that way. Whichever dance we do is based on the speed and tempo of the song. This is a two-step. We should be going faster.”
He tightened his arms and drew her even closer. “Feels plenty fast to me.”
“It’s too slow, and too close.” She pushed against his chest and gained a few blessed inches of distance. There. Now she could breathe. More importantly, she could think. “We need speed and distance for this particular tempo.”
“Feels like just the right amount of distance to me.”
If only. Instead, Jack Mission filled her line of vision, surrounded her with his warmth and his scent and the hard, steady feel of his heart against hers—
The thought careened to a stop as she missed her step and stomped on the toe of his boot. Dread welled inside her. “Oh no.”
“It’s no big deal.”
“I missed a step.”
“I didn’t even notice.”
“I never miss a step.”
“Never say never.”
She glared at him. “You’re throwing me off.”
“Who? Me?” He grinned, a slow, heart-stopping expression that made her heart skip and her feet stall long enough for her to stomp on his foot again.
“Doggone it.”
“Sugar, you need to relax.”
“If you’ll just tell me what dance you’re doing, then I wouldn’t be messing up.”
“Are you always this uptight?”
“I’m not uptight. I just like to know what I’m doing.”
“Darlin’, just relax and breathe.”
Breathe? Was he crazy? Dancing wasn’t about breathing. It was about counting and watching your steps and…
Her thoughts trailed off as Jack pressed his hand into the small of her back and killed the few inches of distance she’d managed to gain. Soft curves met hard muscle and the air rushed from her lungs. Her nostrils flared and she drew in a deep breath. Bad move. His scent drifted across her senses, intoxicating her and she forgot all about trying to keep the rhythm and found herself taking another long breath. And then another.
He smelled of worn leather and virile male seasoned with a touch of danger that prickled Paige’s nerve endings and sent a rush of excitement through her.
“That’s better. You were way too stiff.”
“I was in a classic dance form.”
“It looked more like you had something stuck up your—”
“Good posture,” she cut in. “That’s lesson number one.”
“Says who?”
“Earl Sharp at Earl’s Dance Extravaganza. Lesson number two—” she said, trying to pull away again, but his hold was too strong. “There should always be a good six inches between you and your partner.”
“That’s no fun.”
“But it’s the correct way to do it.”
“And not much fun. I like to have fun.”
“And I like to know what I’m doing.” Paige thrived on it. She never, ever wanted to feel out of control again, and Jack Mission definitely made her feel that way.
He winked and her heart fluttered. “You’re doing just fine,” he told her. “Maybe a little heavy on your feet, but I like the way you’re stroking my shoulder.”
Her fingers clenched as she became instantly aware of her hand moving back and forth across the soft tuxedo material covering his broad shoulder. His grin widened.
“So which rule talks about stroking, darlin’? Four or five? Or are you just improvising?”
“Yes. I mean, no. I didn’t mean…” She frowned. Explanation? She had no explanation other than the fact that Jack Mission had made her forget six weeks worth of nightly dance lessons in less than two minutes. She’d stomped on his feet twice—better make that three times—and she’d forgotten everything she’d ever learned, especially the all-important fact that Jack wasn’t her type.
Her traitorous nipples seemed to have an altogether different opinion.
As if he felt the throbbing tips press into his chest, he gave her a knowing smile and dipped his head, his lips brushing her earlobe. “You know, maybe you’re not as uptight as you look.”
“I am not uptight.”
He eyed her for a long moment. “Darlin’, you’re as uptight as they get. An uppity up if I’ve ever seen one.”
“I am not,” she insisted, forcing her thoughts away from his delicious smell and the feel of his body against hers. She managed to concentrate for the next moment, until the song finished, and she finally, finally managed to pull away. She was about to turn and walk away, then her curiosity got the best of her. “So what’s an uppity up?”
His grin was heartstopping. “Kiss me and maybe I’ll tell you.”
At his words, a rush of heat went through her and sent her pulse fluttering. For a brief moment, she imagined the press of his lips against her own, the whisper of his breath on her mouth, until her common sense intruded along with a healthy dose of righteous indignation. “Kiss you?” She shook her head. Was he serious? “For your information, I don’t even like you.” On that note, she turned to walk away.
His deep chuckle followed her. “Why do you think I asked you to dance?”
2
“HEY THERE, JACK. Jimmy and Deb leave you here to clean up all this by yourself?” Red Bailey clapped Jack on the back and twisted one end of his graying mustache as he waited for Jack’s mother to finish saying goodbye to Judge Baines, the man who’d officiated at the wedding ceremony.
“They left me.” Nell Ranger, the Mission housekeeper and the closest thing Jack had to family next to his mother and brother, rushed by carrying a box overflowing with trash. She wore a blue dress pinned with a crushed carnation corsage. “Those two young’uns have a lot more sense than to expect this boy to clean up after them. Why, he never picked up his underwear way back when and I’d give a pretty penny that things haven’t changed much.”
Jack feigned a look of outrage. “Get ready to fork over the penny, darlin’, ‘cause I haven’t left a pair of underwear lying around in years.”
Nell stopped in the middle of gathering several dirty crystal plates and eyed him. “You mean to tell me you finally turned over a new leaf?”
“Not exactly.” He gave her a wink as he shrugged off his jacket. “I stopped wearing the damned things.”
“Just to get out of picking them up, I’m sure.” Nell shook her head and proceeded loading her arms with dirty cake plates.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re blushing, Nell Ranger.” Jack tugged his bow tie loose and stuffed it into his pocket.
“Nonsense.” She deposited the plates on a nearby tray. “I gave up blushing the day I went to work for your momma. Why, if I had a nickel for every time you or your brother said something outlandish, I’d be a rich woman.”
“Rich, huh?” He slid his arms around her bountiful waist and gave her a hug. “I’ve always wanted to find myself a sugar mama.” He kissed her cheek before she shooed him.
“Just never you mind trying to help. I’ve got Myrtle and the girls coming over to get this place in order just as soon as they take off their Sunday best.”
“I’d be glad to help.”
“And drive those old biddies to distraction with all those winks and smiles when I need to get some work done? No, thank you. You just take yourself off to bed right this very second. I declare, after roaring in here barely a half hour before the ceremony, you must be dead tired.”
Amen. Which could explain why he’d done something so foolish as to challenge Paige Cassidy to kiss him. No matter how good she’d smelled.
His nostrils flared at the last thought. Her scent, all apples and cinnamon and warm woman, clung to him and he fought back a wave of need.
Yep, exhaustion made a man do foolish things, and Jack should know. After his wife had passed away, he’d spent the next six months barely eating or sleeping. He’d drank his way through those days, only to open his eyes one morning just outside of Vegas and find himself married for the second time to a woman he’d known for barely two hours.
Never again.
He was getting some shut-eye and forgetting all about Paige, how sweet she probably tasted and how he really, really wanted to find out first-hand.
At least for tonight.
Challenging Little Miss Uppity Up had been the most fun Jack had had in a helluva long time. Judging from the desire burning in her gaze for those few stunned moments before she’d summoned her anger, she was just as intrigued at the prospect of playing a little game of liplock with him. Just as turned on.
For the time being, of course. Paige had made it very clear that she didn’t like him. That, alone, made her the perfect woman to help him sate the lust eating him up from the inside out. A lust she felt as intensely as he did. He’d been with enough women to make him somewhat of an expert and he could spot a hungry woman at twenty paces. Paige needed some relief as much as he did. Not to mention, she didn’t have any romantic notions about him. He’d given up romance years ago when he’d watched the preacher throw the first handful of dirt onto his first wife’s casket. His only wife.
I don’t even like you.
Yep, she was perfect, all right, which meant that come tomorrow, Jack intended to pay her a visit and see what he could do to get Paige Cassidy to accept his challenge. Soon. Jack had never been long on patience.
He could only hope Paige was just as impatient. Otherwise, it was going to be a heck of a long stay in Inspiration.
“I HAVE TO HAVE THEM,” Paige told the young man sitting at the desk opposite hers. “Now.”
He leaned back in his chair, his ankles crossed, his feet encased in a pair of orange flip-flops that matched the orange flowers in his Hawaiian print shorts. Wally, Deb’s former copy boy, might have been laying out at the beach rather than sitting in the small office that housed Inspiration’s only newspaper, the Inspiration In Touch.
Paige wiped the sweat from her forehead. It felt as hot as a day at the beach. Hotter thanks to the lack of windows and the lifeless air conditioner in the far corner.
“Would you just hold your horses?” Wally took a long sip on the straw sticking out of his glass of iced tea before shifting his attention back to the magazine open on his lap. “What’s the big hurry?”
“I’ve got an SAT meeting in a half hour and an hour’s worth of work to do before then. I need to see the notes on your article so that I can write the copy before I go.”
“Do it later. It’s the beginning of the week. The issue doesn’t go out until Friday.”
“And I’ve got a week’s worth of work budgeted until then. We’ll never get the paper out on time if we leave everything until the last minute. There’s work to do.”
“You work. I’m on strike on the grounds of unbearable working conditions.” Surprise lit his eyes as he glanced up at her. “Hey, did you know a woman gave birth to a fifty pound baby boy last week in Gentryville, Kentucky?”
“You actually believe what you read in those tabloids?”
“I do,” said the fiftyish woman sitting at a nearby desk. Dolores Guiness knew everything about everybody and was only too glad to spill every juicy detail each week in her Around the Town section, also known as The Gossip Column. “Not everything, mind you. But those trashy things do print decent articles on occasion. Like that presidential wannabe and the floozy a few years back. Then there was all the hoopla about Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley, some of which was garbage, but a lot of it panned out.”
“But a fifty pound baby?” Paige looked at the woman in disbelief.
“It could happen. Myrtle Simpcox’s niece over in Stafford knew this woman who had a neighbor who actually gave birth to twins that weighed twenty-five pounds each. Put ‘em together and bam, you’ve got your fifty pound birth.”
“See?” Wally shot her an I-told-you-so look.
“I still don’t think it’s a good idea to put too much faith in The Tattler. Now a real newspaper—” she tapped the copy on her desk. “That’s a different story. Real papers report real news. They have a responsibility to readers.” She eyed Wally. “Responsibility? Do you remember that concept?”
He gave her an exasperated look. “So what are you trying to say?”
“That you have a responsibility not only to our readers, but to Deb. She left you in charge because she trusted you.”
“She left me to roast in this hell. I can’t think in the heat. Give me air conditioning and I’m a super reporter. Until then, I’m struggling to keep my body temperature at a decent level. Want some raspberry tea? Jenny from the diner brought it over.”
“She still have the hots for you?”
“Unfortunately.” He shook his head. “By the way, you’re making my life miserable.”
Said misery had resulted from Deb’s infamous column—Deb’s Fun Fact for the Week—which Paige had inherited a few months ago when Deb had traded in her wild single woman status in favor of her upcoming marital bliss. The fun fact was a line or two of savvy love advice for the single women of Inspiration, such as “Sweeten Up Your Sweetie with Sweet Rolls” or “Light his Fire with Lingerie.” Since Wally was one of the few bachelors in town, the single females of Inspiration had targeted him as the perfect candidate to test out the weekly fun fact. The tea was courtesy of last week’s ‘Tickle his Fancy with Iced Tea.’
“You should be thanking me.”
“For robbing me of my privacy? For destroying my peace and quiet? For creating a town full of stalking sex-starved women?”
“On behalf of the women in town, I resent that. Privacy is overrated. Now hand over the notes.”
“They’re in the top drawer.”
“The one right next to you?”
“Yep.”
“The one barely six inches away from your right hand?”
“That’s the one.” He turned the magazine and studied the picture of the woman and her fifty pound bundle of joy from several angles. “True or not, this looks awful painful to me.”
“I’ll tell you what’s painful,” Dolores piped in from the corner, touching a hand to her gray coif. “I let Ida Louise over at the Cut-n-Curl frost my hair and I swear, she pulled out more than she colored.”
“Well you wouldn’t catch me letting Ida touch one hair on my head,” Wally broke in. “The woman’s as blind as a bat…”
The conversation continued and Paige let out an exasperated breath before stomping over to Wally’s desk and hauling open his drawer. Retrieving the notes, she headed back to her own desk and sank down into the seat. Sweat slid down her temples, her neck, and she grabbed a napkin to blot the moisture.
Wally shot her a knowing look. “Told you it was better to keep still in this heat.”
“Deb’s going to kill you when she finds out you sat on your butt all week while the world passed us by.”
“At the rate things are going, this heat’s going to kill me a heck of a lot sooner than Deb will. Besides, she’s a thousand miles away. How’s she going to know if I took a siesta in the dying heat of the afternoon?”
“Because Little Brother’s here watching you,” Dolores said.
Paige blotted her forehead. “Don’t you mean Big Brother?”
“She means Little Brother.” Jack Mission’s voice floated into the room and tickled the hair on the back of Paige’s neck. She opened her eyes to see him standing in the doorway looking dark and delicious, leaning against the lemon yellow colored doorframe.
Wally’s feet hit the floor. Papers rustled and his tea glass nearly toppled over. “I was, um, just doing a little research for a travel article.”
“For a trip to Gentryville, Kentucky?”
“No. I mean, yes. I mean, I’ve always wanted to go to Kentucky. And speaking of going, I’ve got to do the ‘This Is Your Neighbor Interview’ with Loretta Marks. She’s the new Sunday School teacher from Austin. Later.”
“I wouldn’t have thought he could move that fast considering the heat,” Dolores said. She leaned back in her seat, aimed her handheld fan at her face and eyed Jack. “So what brings you here?”
“Returning my tux.”
“Last I looked, Earline’s place was up the street. You’re at least a block out of the way.”
“I needed some exercise. Say, Dolores, is that a new hairdo?”
Her curiosity faded into a sheepish expression. She touched a hand to her hair. “Why, yes. I mean, it’s still the same style, but I had a new color job done just this past week.”
“My compliments to your colorist.” He tipped his hat and Dolores actually blushed.
Paige blinked just to make sure she was actually seeing correctly. Dolores Guiness never blushed. She made other people blush all the time with her know-it-all attitude and her all-seeing eyes, but never succumbed to turning red herself. Paige blinked a second time just for good measure. Sure enough, there was no mistaking the stain pinking Dolores’ chubby cheeks.
“It’s a shame you’re out in all this heat, though.”
“What?”
“I mean, a pretty hairdo like that won’t stand up for long in this. Is it always this hot?”
“My, my.” She clicked the button on her fan. “It is hot.”
“What happened to bearable?” Paige arched an eyebrow.
“I can’t very well go to the ladies’ auxiliary tea with wilted hair, now can I?” Dolores gathered up her purse and her notes. “I’ll just finish these notes up downstairs in the diner where it’s cool.”
“Sounds like a good idea.” He winked and Dolores blushed again before heading out the doorway.
“You’re related, all right.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The only other person who’s ever made Dolores turn that shade of red would be your brother Jimmy.”
“What can I say?” He shrugged. “It’s a gift.”
A few moments of silence ticked by before Paige finally found her voice. “So why are you here?”
“I was returning my tux.”
“I mean here, here.”
“You forgot this last night.” He held up his hand and for the first time, she noted the battered bridal bouquet that he held.
“Thanks. I’d forgotten all about it.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“What? That I’m having memory loss?”
He grinned. “That you were so shaken up after our dance that you couldn’t think straight.”
“You think so?”
“Darlin’, I know so. You wanted to kiss me.”
“You wanted me to kiss you. If I had wanted to kiss you, I would have.” She glanced at her watch. “I have to get going. I’ve got an SAT meeting over at the activity center.” She gathered up her purse and notebook.
“I’ll show you the way.”
“I know the way.”
“Then you can show me the way. I don’t think I’ve seen the new activity center. When was that built? Last year?”
“About five years ago.”
“I don’t get around town much when I’m home.”
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“What?” he asked, as he followed her down the steps.
“Following me.”
“Maybe I’ve always wanted to go to a SAT meeting.”
“Do you even know what SAT stands for?” When he grinned, she shook her head, then elaborated. “It stands for Sick and Tired.”
“That’s just what I was going to say.” He fell into step beside her. “Sick and tired of what?”
She smiled at him. Maybe it was a good thing he was following her. If he was so determined to make a nuisance of himself, the next half hour would undoubtedly change his mind. “You’ll see.”
“I don’t know if I like the tone of your voice.”
“Too late to chicken out now. Come on.” She took his arm and tugged him down the street.
“SO I TOLD HIM,” Harriet Miller said, “I would really like dessert.” She shook her head. “Do you really need that dessert? Harvey asks me.” She frowned. “So I said, I want that dessert. I deserve it, Harvey. I deserve it.” Her words met with a round of applause from the other women seated around the circle of chairs that comprised Sick and Tired, the women’s empowerment group Paige had been hosting for the past month.
“That’s wonderful,” Paige told the woman, desperately trying to ignore the man who leaned against the wall just inside the doorway, his arms folded as he watched her.
She’d expected him to run the other way the minute he discovered the nature of the group. Not many men felt comfortable in a group of venting women, but he’d simply smiled, said hello to several of the ladies he knew, and propped himself inside the doorway.
“So what did you have?” Louisa Jenkins asked. “The brownie or the apple pie?”
“The apple pie,” Harriet declared with a smile. “With a double scoop of ice cream and caramel sauce.”
“Atta girl!”
“You go, honey!”
“Score one for women everywhere.”
“Thank you, Harriett,” Paige told the woman, determined to ignore the way her skin flushed hot and cold every time she glanced at Jack. She was making it a point to avoid glancing at him or even thinking about him. She’d made it twenty-five minutes already. She could handle a few more. “That was a wonderful example of exercising your empowerment. Does anyone else have anything they would like to share? A moment when you realized you needed to speak up for yourself and did. Or maybe you simply realized it, but haven’t yet had the courage to make the stand. Either way, we’re here to listen.” Paige glanced around the group, careful not to let her gaze linger too long on Jenny Turnover, the newest addition to Sick and Tired.
Most of the group was comprised of women rebelling against their husbands, but Paige had the feeling that Jenny had more bothering her than a spouse nagging her to lose five pounds, or one that wanted his beer brought to him in a glass rather than a can. There was a glimmer of fear in Jenny’s eyes that Paige recognized all too well.
“Anyone? Remember, we’re here to help each other. To encourage and listen.” The group remained silent and Paige clapped her hands. “Well, then, let’s end today’s session with a few words of encouragement. As women, we need to speak up for ourselves and do what we think is right. We don’t have to fit into the mold that society has shaped for us. I hope you all remember that. And don’t forget, you are special. You’re entitled to the best things in life. Until next week, ladies.”
After a little chitchat, the group disbursed and Paige turned to gather up her notes.
She paused, every nerve in her body going on instant alert when she felt Jack’s hand on her arm. She turned toward him.
“Now I know what’s wrong with you. This,” he fluffed her ruffled sleeve, “is just a disguise. You’re really a man-hater.”
“I do not hate men. Just because I’m a capable woman and I encourage other women to be capable, doesn’t mean I don’t like the opposite sex.”
“You don’t like me.” He seemed proud of the fact.
“I don’t dislike you. You’re just not my type.”
“But you want me anyway.”
“I do not.”
“Oh really?” He fingered her nipple through the thin fabric of her dress.
She stepped back from his touch. “That’s just physical.”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” And before she could say a word, his lips covered hers.
His mouth moved against hers, his tongue sweeping her bottom lip, begging her to open up and let him inside, and for a split second, she couldn’t think or even breathe. Her heart all but stopped beating and she just stood there, feeling him against her, coaxing her, seducing her.
His arms pulled her close and his body pressed the length of hers, his heat overwhelming her until her knees actually went limp. His tongue teased and his lips nibbled and she couldn’t stop her mouth from opening. He swept inside, tasting and stroking and stealing her common sense for a long, heart-pounding moment.
When he finally pulled away and stared down at her, she simply stared up at him.
“I was right.”
“About what?” she said, still dazed.
“You wanted to kiss me.”
“I…” The word yes was on the tip of her tongue, but it couldn’t quite make it any further. “I’m late,” she blurted. “I—I have to get back to the paper.” She snatched up her purse and notebook and left as fast as her feet could carry her.
She needed to breathe, to think, to figure out what the heck had just happened.
It was the worst kiss of her life.
IT HAD BEEN THE WORST KISS of Paige’s entire life.
Not the kiss itself, mind you. That had been terrific. Wonderful. Stupendous. Jack Mission knew exactly how to slant his mouth just so and stroke his tongue along the length of hers and lick…
She fought down a sudden burst of heat that pebbled her nipples and made her walk faster toward the safe refuge of the newspaper office.
No, it wasn’t the kiss itself that had been so horrible. It had been her reaction to it. The wonder she’d felt, the awe, the total cluelessness. Her mind had gone completely blank and she’d been dumbfounded as to what to do next. As if Jack Mission’s kiss had been her first kiss ever.
Pathetic.
True, it was the first kiss she’d had in months, but it wasn’t the first time she’d locked lips with a man. She knew how to kiss for pity’s sake.
Okay, so she’d only kissed three men and one qualified more as a boy, but she’d had many kisses since her very first during a game of spin the bottle at a birthday party when she’d been thirteen. She’d been married, for crying out loud.
Can’t you do anything right, woman?
The question echoed through her head and brought back a wave of anxiety. For so long, she hadn’t been able to do anything right. She hadn’t been able to dress appropriately or clean good enough or cook well enough or—
Water under the bridge.
She’d started a new life and broadened her horizons. Thanks to her weekly cooking lessons, she could actually do more than boil water. She could strip her no-wax floors better than Mr. Clean himself, and she actually wore more than just jeans and oversized T-shirts.
And the kissing?
Before she could dwell on the question, she heard a voice behind her. She slowed and turned in time to see Shelby gaining on her, his hat in hand.
“Hey, Shelby.”
“I hope I’m not keeping you from something. You look like you’re in an awful hurry, but I really wanted to talk to you about something.”
“I was just headed back to finish up a story. You can walk with me.”
“That’s okay. I’ve got a load of hay to drive back to my place. This’ll just take a second. Say, you did a good two-step the other night.”
“What?”
“I saw you dancing with Jack. You did a good box waltz.”
“That’s what I was doing?” Of course it was. She would have known a box waltz anywhere.
Except with Jack Mission as her partner.
He’d pulled her close and she’d been conscious of only one thing—him.
“Look, I was thinking that maybe, if you’re not busy next Friday night…”
Here it was. The moment she’d been waiting for. Shelby was actually going to ask her out.
“That is, I’ve been meaning to try this new steakhouse out on Route Five and I thought that if you like steak—”
“Geez, I’m late.” She made a big pretense of glancing at her watch. “I’ve got an interview over at City Hall with the sheriff.”
“Sure. I just thought that if you wanted to try—”
“Did you hear that?”
He glanced behind him. “What?”
“That noise. It sounded like Deb’s cat. She’s back at the newspaper office and she’s been so lonely with Deb out of town, she’s taken up howling.”
“They’ve only been gone a couple of days.”
“And the poor thing’s already grieving. I really need to see about her and then get to my interview. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Before he could get in another word, she turned and started down the street.
What the heck had she just done?
She’d been waiting for him to ask her out. Hoping for it.
But that was before the kiss. Before she’d realized how totally inept she was when it came to interacting with the opposite sex on a romantic level. She didn’t know how to kiss right! How could she go out with Shelby when a date was surely going to lead to an intimacy she was totally unprepared for.
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Kimberly Raye
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Paige Cassidy is on a major self-improvement kick. Divorced from a man who swore she could do nothing right, Paige is making it her business to learn how to be a woman…in every sense. And sexy, restless Jack Mission is just the man to give her a few lessons in love….Texas bad boy Jack Mission is tired of being a drifter. He′s ready to find a good woman and settle down. And beautiful Paige Cassidy is definitely good–in bed and out. But Paige only considers their erotic interludes «research.» She′s not looking for a commitment. And it′s up to Jack to convince her that she′s already all woman–his woman!