A Lawman in Her Stocking (9 page)

Her eyes met his and he could tell that she was gripped by the same tension he was. He quickly stepped back and waited for her to precede him up the porch steps.

Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. He was trying his damnedest to be a gentleman, but it seemed everything was working against him. He was going to be alone with Brenna in his cabin, she had on an outfit that sent his temperature soaring and he was harder than he’d been in a month of Sundays. It was a lethal combination to his good intentions any way he looked at it, and not at all encouraging.

When he opened the door and they stepped inside the darker interior, he reached out to turn on a lamp and cursed vehemently. “It looks like the storm has knocked out the power. Stay here and I’ll be right back.”

Entering the kitchen area, he removed a kerosene lamp from one of the shelves in the pantry, lit the wick, then went back into the living room where Brenna stood looking cold, wet and more desirable than any woman he’d ever seen. “Let’s get you something warm and dry to put on,” he said, placing the lamp on the mantel over the fireplace.

He went into his bedroom to find her something to wear, but made it a point not to look at his king-size bed. No telling how many different scenarios his suddenly active imagination would conjure up.

A sudden flash of light and a deafening clap of thunder preceded a startled cry from the other room.
The hair on the back of his neck stood straight up and every nerve in his body came to full alert.

“Are you all right?” he asked, rushing back to where Brenna stood, staring out the picture window.

As she nodded, she pointed toward the lane. “I was startled when lightning struck that tree.”

“This can’t be happening,” he muttered, his hand tightening into a fist around the sweatsuit and thick socks he’d retrieved from the dresser.

Looking at the smoldering tree stump, then at the live oak blocking the drive, he couldn’t believe how fate had stepped in to make matters worse. They were trapped, and there was no way they’d be making it back to town until the storm moved on and he could use the chain saw to clear the lane. And, if the reports were accurate, that wouldn’t be until sometime tomorrow afternoon.

Dylan swallowed hard. He and Brenna would have to spend the night in his cabin. Alone.

Sweat popped out on his forehead and his groin tightened predictably. Glancing down at his chest, he almost groaned. The star pinned to his shirt represented justice, integrity and honor—principles he’d tried his damnedest to uphold all of his life. But at the moment, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to live up to the last part of the code.

He glanced down at the woman standing beside him. With each passing second, his thoughts were becoming increasingly less honorable and exceedingly more lusty.

Suddenly unable to stand still, he handed her the sweats and the thick socks, then turned to the fireplace. “Get changed and I’ll see about getting a fire
started.” Without looking at her, he gritted his teeth and added, “We’re going to be here a while.”

“Is there something I can do to help?” Brenna asked, watching Dylan place logs in the stone fireplace.

He shook his head. “There’s not much to do. We’ll just have to sit tight and make the best of things until the storm lets up.”

She pushed up the sleeves of the oversize gray sweatshirt and reached for her tote bag. Please let there be something chocolate somewhere inside, she prayed. But the only thing she found that was even remotely related to her chocolate addiction was a crumpled wrapper and a coupon for fifty cents off her next candy purchase.

Sighing, Brenna put the canvas bag back on the cushion beside her and stared at Dylan’s broad back. They were trapped in his cozy cabin and there wasn’t any way out until it stopped raining.

She glanced out the window. It didn’t appear that would happen any time soon.

“In case you’re wondering,” he said, sounding calm, “we’re probably going to be spending the night here.”

Turning back to face him, she nodded. “I figured that would be the case.”

How had she managed to sound so matter-of-fact when her insides fluttered wildly and her pulse beat like a little miniature snare drum?

She knew she was grasping at straws, but she had to ask, “You couldn’t use the Explorer to pull the tree out of the way enough to drive past it?”

He shook his head. “Afraid not.” His back to her, he continued to work at starting the fire. “And I can’t saw the tree up and move it until the storm lets up.” He chuckled. “I’m not real big on dodging lightning bolts at any time, but especially not when I’m holding a chainsaw with a twenty-inch steel bar.”

“No, that wouldn’t be a very good idea,” she agreed, glancing back at the fallen tree. “I suppose I should call and cancel my meeting for this afternoon.” She hated the fact that it would put the Beautification Society behind on their plans. Knowing she had no choice, she retrieved her planner from the tote. “Do you think your phone still works?”

Dylan rose to his feet and walked over to a desk in the corner of the room. Picking up the receiver, he listened, then set it back on its base. “It’s out, too.”

“How am I going to let the ladies on the Main Street committee know that I won’t be able to meet with them?”

“I’ll go out and use the radio in the cruiser to contact Jason. I need to let him know what’s happened anyway. While I’m at it, I’ll have him make the calls for you.” Dylan started toward the door, then turned back. “Do you have a list of the members involved?”

She pulled a paper from her datebook, then handed it to him. “Please ask him to let everyone know we’ll reschedule the meeting for next week. Do you think he would mind calling my house to leave a message for Granny and Pete, as well?”

“No problem,” he said, walking to the door.

While Dylan went out to make the radio call to his deputy, Brenna curled up on the couch and stared at the blazing logs in the fireplace. When she left for the
grade school just after lunch all she’d had on her mind was being the Story Lady for an hour, meeting with the Main Street committee to discuss the next phase to be completed before the Jamboree on Christmas Eve night, and asking Dylan if he’d like to come over for a movie. Now, she was having to cancel her meeting and planning to spend the night with him.

She shook her head. She wasn’t spending the night
with
him. She was spending the night in his cabin and he just happened to be there with her.

She took a deep breath. Dylan’s masculine scent on the clothes he’d loaned her assailed her senses and a tremor raced the length of her spine. She closed her eyes against the coil tightening in her lower belly. She’d tried to tell herself for days that she was spending time with him because it was preferable to spending time alone while her grandmother was out with Pete. But the truth was, no matter how hard she’d tried, she was falling head over heels for him. And it scared her silly.

Dylan cursed as he hung the mike back on the dashboard of the Explorer. He had the urge to punch something.

While he’d been giving Jason instructions about calling Brenna’s place and the women on her planning committee, Myron had walked into the office. The man had been so excited about the fact that Brenna was having to cancel the meeting, Myron had told Dylan he intended to see that Dylan received a commendation for going above and beyond the call of duty in his effort to stop the B.S. Club.

Dylan had tried to explain that it was a bizarre act
of nature and that he had nothing to do with it, but Myron wasn’t listening. All the man could concentrate on was the fact that future plans for the Main Street Project had been put on hold for a week, giving the men extra time to come up with a scheme to stop whatever the women had planned next.

Sighing heavily, Dylan got out of the truck and made a mad dash for the front porch. He was sick of hearing about the B.S. Club, the Main Street Project, and the men’s desire to stop the women from making any further changes.

He stood with his hand on the doorknob. The way he saw it, he had a choice to make. He could either spend the rest of the day feeling guilty about his part in the men’s attempt to stop the women of Tranquillity, or he could forget about the town and concentrate on enjoying Brenna’s company.

For the first time in the past hour, he smiled. As far as he was concerned there was no contest. Myron, the B.S. Club and the Main Street Project be damned.

He was going to spend the rest of the day, and night, concentrating on the most exciting, desirable woman he’d ever met.

“W
ould you like another s’more?” Dylan asked, pulling a long-handled barbecue fork with toasted marshmallows on it from the fireplace.

Sitting on the braided rug in front of the hearth, Brenna shook her head as she licked the sticky remnants of chocolate and marshmallow from her fingertips. His mouth suddenly felt as if it had been coated with cotton. But when her little pink tongue darted out to remove a graham cracker crumb from her index finger, sweat popped out on his forehead and upper lip.

“No, thank you,” she said, smiling. “I’ve had my chocolate fix. I’ll be fine for a while.”

“I’m glad I found Pete’s stash of candy bars,” Dylan teased, in an attempt to keep things light. “I’d hate for you to go into chocolate withdrawal.”

“Oh, that wouldn’t be pretty,” she said, shaking her head. She grinned impishly. “You should have seen me the day we painted the fire hydrants. I’d gone all day without something chocolate and by late afternoon, I was not someone you’d want to be around.”

At the mention of the Main Street Project, Dylan felt his eyebrow begin to twitch rhythmically. If he never heard another word about the B.S. Club and their plans it would be all too soon.

“When we start on—”

He quickly broke off a small section of chocolate and placed it to her lips, effectively cutting off what she was about to say. “I don’t want you getting cranky,” he said, hoping his smile looked less forced than it felt. “And I don’t want to discuss anything about the Main Street Project.”

“Why not?” Her throaty laughter as she chewed the candy sent a shaft of longing straight through him. “We have the cutest Christmas—”

“I’d rather concentrate on you,” he interrupted. He reached out to run his index finger along her soft cheek. “You’re much more exciting.”

Dylan watched her luminous blue eyes widen a moment before she broke off another piece of the candy bar and popped it into her mouth.

“You know what they say about chocolate, don’t you?” he asked, breaking off another piece.

She shook her head.

“Studies have shown that eating chocolate creates the same chemical reaction in the brain that making love does,” he said, reaching down to lace his fingers with hers.

“I think I’ve heard that, too,” she said, her gaze reflecting the same awareness he felt.

The feel of her smooth skin and the sound of her sultry voice did strange things to his insides and sent his temperature soaring. When she glanced up at him from beneath her lashes, desire—urgent and hot—flowed through his veins.

The shadows cast by the kerosene lamp and the logs blazing in the fireplace lent an intimacy to the room that stole his breath. Bathed in the soft glow, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life.

He tugged her forward. “Come here, darlin’.”

“I doubt this is wise,” Brenna said, her gaze locking with his as he pulled her onto his lap. She knew she should put up more than a token protest, considering their situation. But the truth was, she wanted Dylan to hold her, to once again make her feel cherished and desirable.

“It probably isn’t wise,” he agreed. He placed a piece of chocolate between his lips, then brushed it across hers. Kissing her, he gently pushed the candy into her mouth with his tongue, then drawing back, he smiled at her. “But what the hell. I’ve never been accused of being the sharpest knife in the drawer.”

She closed her eyes as the rich taste of chocolate spread across her taste buds. “Dylan?”

His mouth touched hers again in a feathery caress as he licked the chocolate from her lips. “What?”

“Please kiss me.” His tantalizing caresses weren’t nearly enough.

A groan rumbled up from deep in his chest and he
pulled her close, but continued to tease her. “In a minute, darlin’,” he whispered against her lips. “This heightens the anticipation.”

She shook her head and put her arms around his shoulders to tangle her fingers in his thick, black hair. “No, it doesn’t.” She suddenly felt quite breathless. “It just makes me crazy.”

He chuckled and the low sexy sound caused her heart to skip several beats and the butterflies in the pit of her stomach to flap wildly. She knew she was playing with fire. They were completely alone, with no chance of interruptions. But she didn’t care. She wanted Dylan to kiss her. And more.

The thought should have sent her running as fast as her feet would carry her back to the safety of her shop in Tranquillity. But the fear of being intimate with Dylan, of holding his body to hers, and experiencing the contrast of a man and woman for the first time didn’t frighten her nearly as much as the thought of never knowing the power of his love.

He barely touched her mouth with his, then gently sucked on her lower lip. “I want you to remember this kiss for the rest of your life, Brenna.”

She would have told him there was no way she could ever forget it, but his tongue slipped inside to trace her teeth, then stroke the inner recesses, and Brenna lost the ability to think of anything but the man holding her so tightly against him. The hunger of his kisses, the taste of his passion, sent heat surging through her veins and made every cell in her body tingle to life.

“You taste like chocolate and sweet, sexy woman,” he said, his low drawl sending quivers of
delight shimmering through her. Her nipples tightened and she arched against him in an effort to get closer.

The hard muscles of his chest crushed her breasts as he lifted her, then stretched them both out on the rug in front of the hearth. Melting against him, she reveled in the rapid beating of his heart, his groan of pleasure when she traced his nape with her fingertips.

Brenna brought her hands down to his shoulders, then giving him a little push to create a space between them, she worked on the snaps of his chambray shirt. She wanted to feel the warmth of his skin, the steely muscles that she’d admired the first day they met.

“I want to touch you,” she murmured.

Her heart stopped, then took off at a gallop. She couldn’t believe the degree of passion in her tone, or that she’d spoken her thoughts aloud.

But before she had time to dwell on the admission, Dylan rose to his knees, yanked the snap closures of his shirt free and quickly shrugged out of the garment. Her breath caught at the sight of his well-developed chest and stomach. The man could pose for a calendar and easily sell a million copies, she decided as she reached up to trace the ridges of sinew with her fingertips. His sharp intake of breath encouraged her and she placed her palms over his pectoral muscles to feel his flat male nipples pucker in response.

“We’re going to touch each other,” he promised.

His dark green eyes held her captive as he took her hands in his. Pulling her to a kneeling position in front of him, he slipped his hands beneath the hem of the sweatshirt he’d loaned her to stroke the sensi
tive skin from her waist to the underside of her breasts.

The raw desire she saw in his heated gaze, the feel of his callused palms on her skin and the clean, manly scent of him, created a longing in her that she’d never known. It was as if he’d unlocked her heart, her soul. She wanted to make love with him, to have him become a part of her body as she would be part of his.

In that moment, she knew beyond a shadow of doubt that she was falling in love with Dylan. But before she had time to think of the implications of her discovery, Dylan eased his hands up to cup her bare breasts.

“You aren’t wearing a bra,” he said, smiling as he supported the weight of her with his palms.

“It was too wet from the rain,” she said, her cheeks heating as she tried to explain why she wasn’t fully dressed.

The smoldering look he gave her took her breath. “I’m glad.” Leaning forward, he kissed her. “I want to see you, darlin’.”

Unable to make her voice work, she nodded without hesitation.

He must have sensed her vulnerability because he gave her an encouraging smile a moment before he swept his hands upward and stripped her of the sweatshirt. When he tossed it aside, her first inclination was to cover herself. But she heard his sharp intake of breath, saw the spark in his eyes turn to flames of desire, and any lingering inhibitions she might have had melted away.

Smiling appreciatively, he took her hands in his
and placed them on his chest before cupping her breasts with his palms. “You’re beautiful, Brenna.”

He gently chafed the beaded tips with the pads of his thumbs, then leaning forward to kiss the hollow behind her ear, whispered, “I’m going to taste you.”

As he nibbled his way down her neck to her shoulder, then her collarbone, her head fell back and she trembled at the feel of his lips on her skin. Delicious, honeyed heat flowed through her to form a heavy coil of need in her nether regions and she had to bite her lower lip to keep from moaning aloud. But when his hot mouth closed around her taught nipple and his tongue flicked over her tight flesh, she couldn’t have stopped the sound from escaping if her life depended on it.

Dylan lifted his head. He didn’t think he’d ever heard a sweeter sound than that of the pleasure he’d created in Brenna. “That’s it, darlin’. Let me hear you. Let me know how I make you feel and what you need.”

Rising to his feet he pulled her up with him, then placed his hands at her waist to dip his fingers beneath the elastic band of the sweatpants he’d loaned her. The discovery that she wasn’t wearing panties sent a shockwave of heat straight to his groin and his straining body felt as if it just might bust the zipper of his fly.

“They were wet, too,” she said, unable to meet his gaze.

He put his finger under her chin and tilted her head up so their gazes met. “Do you have any idea how arousing it is for me just knowing you were naked inside my clothes?” When she shook her head, he
cupped her bottom and pulled her lower body to him. “Does this give you an idea?”

Her eyes widened at the feel of his arousal pressed to her lower belly and he watched with mounting satisfaction as the spark of awareness in her eyes changed to a smoldering ember of passion. Determined to fan the spark into the flame of unbridled desire, Dylan stepped back, then slowly, carefully moved his hands downward. The too-big pants fell away from her hips and legs to land in a heap at her feet.

Air seemed in short supply as he looked at her. Brenna was shaped the way a woman should be, with full breasts, soft curves and nicely rounded hips. She wasn’t the fragile type that a man was afraid to love for fear of breaking something when he held her to him. No, Brenna was a woman who could hold a man captive in her softness as she drained him of every last ounce of strength he possessed.

At first, she looked a bit unsure as she kicked free of the gray pool of fleece. But when her eyes met his, Dylan forgot all about her hesitant expression. Desire, passion and need were reflected in her blue gaze, and his only thought centered around removing the rest of his clothes and feeling all of her delicious body next to his.

With a practiced twist of his fingers, he worked the button at his waistband through the opening, eased the zipper down over his insistent arousal, then quickly shucked his jeans and briefs. Reaching for her, he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her to him.

The feel of her satiny skin finally touching his hair-
roughened flesh, the sweet, womanly scent that was uniquely Brenna enveloping him, and the sound of her soft sigh as she melted against him sent his blood pressure into stroke range and his heartrate into over-drive. Taking several deep breaths to slow his runaway libido, he buried his face in the red-gold cloud of her hair. He’d never in his entire life been as turned on as he was at that very moment.

Unsure of how much more of the sweet torture his body could withstand, Dylan swung her up into his arms and headed for his bedroom. He wanted to take things slowly, to make love to Brenna the way she was meant to be loved—slowly, thoroughly.

When he reached the side of the king-size bed, he threw back the comforter, lowered her to the pristine sheets, and stretched out beside her. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her again with every emotion he felt, but wasn’t ready to identify.

By the time he broke the kiss, Dylan felt as if he might go up in flames. Never had desire been so intense, or his need for a woman so strong.

“Dylan, there’s something I need to tell you,” she said, her lips skimming his shoulder and sending a shock wave of heat to every part of him.

“What’s that, honey?” he asked.

He propped his elbow on the mattress and rested his head on his hand. Staring down at the most beautiful woman he’d ever known, he lightly traced his index finger between the valley of her breasts, down her abdomen to her navel. Rewarded by her soft sigh and the trembling of her body at his touch, he continued his exploration. But when he reached the nest
of curls at the juncture of her thighs, her body stiffened.

“You wanted to tell me something?” he asked, slowing his exploration in order to give her time to relax.

The uncertain look she’d worn earlier returned and gazing up at him, she worried her lower lip a moment before she nodded. “I’ve…never done this before.”

She made the announcement so softly, he wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. “You’ve never been with a man?” The vulnerable look in her guileless blue eyes when she shook her head, touched something deep inside of him. “Not even the jerk who duped you into thinking the two of you would get married after he got out of law school?”

“We…” She stopped and shook her head again. “
I
never felt ready.”

Dylan’s heart stuttered. “And you feel ready now? With me?”

“Yes.”

The firmness he detected in her voice, the sincerity in her gaze, shook him to the very foundation of his soul. Brenna hadn’t given herself to the man she’d thought to eventually marry because it hadn’t felt right. But she was ready to give herself to him.

An admission like Brenna had just made should have doused all traces of his desire and sent him running like a tail-tucked coyote. But the thought that she felt ready to make love with him when she’d never felt ready to share herself with any other man made Dylan’s heart swell and his body throb with an intensity that caused his head to swim. Unable to express the depth of his feelings with words, he gathered
her in his arms and kissed her with a passion that he’d never believed himself capable of.