Authors: Laurie Leclair
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction
Keeping a smile pinned on her face she made her way into the lion’s den. But, up ahead the real problem stood, shaking her to her core.
His dark gray eyes followed her every move, unnerving her. The lazy, heavy lidded look sent tingles through her veins. Halting in front of him, his fresh, outdoorsy scent made her head spin, or was that just the man himself?
Highly aware of him, she endured his thorough perusal, as if he mentally stripped the clothes from her one piece at a time. She knew the second he noticed the rapid pulse beating at the base of her neck. He looked lower and, as if mesmerized, gazed at the rise and fall of her suddenly aching breasts encased in the silky green blouse as her breaths came in short, quick pants.
As if gathering his wits, he grinned wickedly. Locking gazes once again, he reached out and gently pulled the thread of a spiral curl loose from the corner of her lip. Softly, he brushed it away, his knuckle skimming her cheek. “Hello, sunshine.”
Heat branded Tessa where he’d touched her flesh, his slightly rough finger lingering for a moment longer than necessary.
Oh, how I remember those hands.
She drew in a shaky breath as warmth flowed through her chilled body at his words.
Sunshine.
While all the other kids on their block used to call her string bean or knobby knees, he’d always called her sunshine, making her glow inwardly. That wicked grin of his, enveloping body heat, and his deep whiskey voice had the same, devastating effect as it always did.
Magic.
“Well, Chance Deveraux, how the hell are you?” she asked in a breathy voice, saying the first thing that popped into her numb mind as she drank in the incredibly sexy man he’d become.
He threw back his head and laughed, a nice gusty sound that broke the tension in the room. Soon the surrounding mourners began to talk in low, hushed whispers.
Tessa made out her name on many peoples’ lips and how dare she intrude on their moment of grief. The ball of nerves in her tummy tightened. And something inside her withered at the constant age-old division of loyalties among the towns’ people. So many of them had taken sides years ago and never faltered from that stance. It shouldn’t bother her after she’d lived with the snickers and stares for all this time. But somehow, deep down, it still did. Why couldn’t everyone just get along?
Oh, Lord, they don’t know why I’m here. Didn’t Gil tell anyone?
Reading the quizzical expression on Chance’s ruggedly handsome features she had her answer. Not even he knew.
“Can I buy you a beer?” Chance shoved the bottle in front of him along the shiny surface of the bar.
Shaking her head, she made a face recalling the one time she sneaked a sip in high school and had promptly spit it out. “Don’t touch the stuff.”
He shrugged. “Me, either. Not anymore.”
The few short, clipped words held a wealth of meaning. What had happened to him? Instead of probing deeper, she said, “Soda, it is.” Tessa looked her fill, hungry for the sight of him as he gestured to the bartender for two colas.
In the ten years since she’d last seen him, he’d changed noticeably. Gone were the long hair and too-thin look. From studying his profile, she noted his dark hair, sprinkled with a smattering of premature gray, was cut short and close to his head, bringing out his strong, handsome facial features. When he whipped around to look at her again, she sucked in a sharp breath, adding silently,
it also brings out his all-seeing, smoky gray eyes.
For a moment, she became lost in the flecks of charcoal gray speckling his irises.
Shrugging self-consciously for being caught staring, she swung her gaze away from his. But she couldn’t deny the one, all-too-brief scan of the rest of him. Up close the well-defined muscles, encased in faded jeans and gray pullover shirt showed his flat stomach to perfection, replaced the thinness of yesteryear. And he’d adopted a guarded look that hid a great deal, she suspected.
She swallowed hard as the comparisons sprang to mind. Once, on a fall night much like this one, she’d had the privilege of kissing and touching him.
Now, searching his stare for any sort of recognition of those sweet, drugging kisses, her middle dipped and a coldness invaded her heart. His drunken state at the time had seen to it that he didn’t remember. While she could never seem to forget.
“Here.” Walter Peabody’s gruff voice brought her out of her reverie and back to the here and now. The bartender’s dark, narrowed eyes rested on her. Tessa shivered at the look of disapproval on the balding man’s pale, softly wrinkled face, knowing that she wasn’t wanted here. He shoved the cans, along with two glasses, in front of them, and then departed, muttering, “As I live and breathe I can’t believe a Warfield is in Gabe Deveraux’s pub. Now I’ve seen everything.”
As she reluctantly slid onto a stool she brushed Chance’s hip accidentally. For a moment, she stilled, as did he, experiencing the bolt of electricity that shot through her body. Jerking her head around to face him, she asked, “Did you feel that?” Then she promptly cursed herself for always saying the first thing that jumped into her head.
His slow, sexy smile told her his answer without words. She raised her gaze to his darkening eyes and her heartbeat picked up the wild, thundering pace from just a few seconds ago. “What do you think? Of course I felt it.”
Gulping hard, she could only nod.
Magic.
She’d searched for it with someone special. But no one ever quite connected. Not like Chance Deveraux did. The enemy. What would Granny say if she ever found out?
The thought of her elderly relative had Tessa breaking out in a cold sweat. Granny had nixed any kind of romance Tessa had ever attempted to establish with a man, sighting their many flaws and how she’d only get hurt eventually. A pang of loneliness throbbed to life. How could she convince granny that she already hurt without love in her life? And if she couldn’t get granny to allow a man in her life, then how in the world could Tessa have the baby she longed for?
Sighing, she knew she’d have to keep her wanton feelings for Chance Deveraux, bad boy extraordinaire, bottled up tight, or suffer the consequences at home. She’d had lots of practice doing that while growing up. The risk of her being seen here and with him increased ten-fold.
Her middle dipped, realizing that granny would find out from the town’s gossips. A wave of shame washed over her; she’d disappoint her granny.
Again.
Despite all her best efforts she always fell short of pleasing the high standards of the lady who had raised her when no one else would. The least she could do was honor the age-old feud and stop embarrassing her grandmother.
Clearing her throat, she longed for a drink, but couldn’t quite bring herself to take even a sip from the enemy’s camp. She disregarded the cola and fell back on her wit, making the best of a bad situation. Leaning close, she whispered, “Don’t tell my granny or she’ll be liable to put a chastity belt on me.”
His laughter rippled over her, warm and soothing. “How’s the old bat anyway? Still curmudgeonly as ever?”
A part of her agreed with him on his description, but the fiercely loyal part answered instead, “Granny’s just feisty, that’s all.”
“Yeah, right.” He snorted. “You’re feisty, she’s cranky, permanently.”
She couldn’t help but giggle at that. “You should be careful what you say about her; it might get back to her, then she’ll chase you down the street with a frying pan again.”
He arched an eyebrow, his expression indignant. Something low and deep tugged within her at that sexy look. “Who? Me? I was completely innocent the last time she did that.”
Warming to the subject and him even more, the knot in her middle relaxed. “Really? Then what about the time before that when you’d snuck in the house, stole her undies, then hoisted them up in the tree in the front yard, so they flapped in the wind for all the neighbors to see.”
Horrified, he asked, “Undies? Hell, Tessa, they were nothing short of bloomers!”
Fighting the losing battle of her bubbling laughter, she wagged a finger at him. “So, you admit it then.”
Closing the small space between them, he said softly in her ear, “I not only did do it, but I took a pair of your panties, the sweet little green pair with Saturday written on them in white lettering. I still have them.”
His hot breath tickling her flesh sent shivers down her spine. The fresh, pine scent of his after-shave wrapped around her in a sensuous fog, sucking her into the dangerous man. But his words and his bad boy ways stunned her.
He still has my panties! What else did he take over the years?
Rearing back to look him in his twinkling gray eyes, she said, “That was you! I thought granny tossed them out.”
He scowled. “You gave
her
credit for that?”
At his disgruntled look she burst out laughing. “Chance Deveraux, you dog you.”
Shrugging, his rugged features relaxed into a smile and the tiny lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled, but it didn’t fully reach down and erase the pain in his eyes. “I prefer devil to dog, sunshine. And don’t tell me you never tried anything like that in your life.” He poked his chest, saying, “I know better than that.”
“Who? Me?” she mimicked his earlier mock outrage.
“Yes, you,” he said, using his forefinger and thumb to cup her chin. His touch scorched her skin. “How about the time you stole my clothes when I went skinny-dipping in Carbuncle pond?”
Heat flew to her cheeks. Her impish streak burst forth. “I’ve got to say you do have really nice buns.”
“Ah hah! So, you do admit it now.”
Holding up her hands briefly, she agreed. “Guilty as charged.”
“I knew it was you all along.” Releasing her, he shook his head. “Oh, Lord, you should have seen me hobbling down the dirt road that night. Every time I saw any sign of lights coming, I’d rush to the side of the road and hide.”
“Hey, I left a trail of clothes for you, didn’t I?”
“You started out with my sock. What was I supposed to cover with that anyway?”
The tantalizing image flashed through her mind and she bit back on a groan. More heat whooshed through her blood stream. The prank of the past, combined with the forbidden aspect of this meeting, made her nerves jumpy and her senses heightened to the underlying sensual currents pulsing between them.
Now it was his turn to hold up his hands. “Oh no, don’t even go there.”
“It was funny then, and, if you’d think about it, it’s even funnier now.”
He laughed, a warm, genuine sound that held none of the raw emotions she’d thought she’d heard earlier in his voice.
“God, you’re good for me, Tessa.” Just the way he said her name in that whiskey-husky voice of his sent thrills through her veins. “I’ve been feeling sorry for myself until you walked in.”
Her chest ached for him. “I’m sorry about your granddad, Chance. He was sweet, funny, and he adored you.”
“Chip off the old block, huh?” he nearly choked.
Reaching out to him, she covered his fisted hand with hers. He flinched, and then withdrew. Swiftly, he checked out the interested audience unable to tear their eyes off her and him. Turning back, he looked at her as if he’d only just realized who she was.
“How would you know what he was like? Hell, the Deverauxs and Warfields haven’t said two kind words to each other in who knows how many years,” he said between gritted teeth, a muscle jerking along his jaw.
The blast of anger shouldn’t have surprised her, but it did nonetheless. Waves of pain rolled off of him and hit her. Behind it all she realized that she should never have come here tonight.
Twisting on the stool, she made to jump off. “You’re right, I don’t belong here.”
He shifted abruptly, barring her way. Standing before her, tall and imposing, he asked, “So why did you then?”
Briefly, she squeezed her eyes shut, blocking the painful memory that his stance brought back to her. The feel of his hand lifting her chin had her opening her eyes and gazing up at him. Ten long years fell away and she recalled those moments when she’d last been this close to him.
She’d clung to that image in the wrenching months afterward. With each new day and the knowledge they had brought, she’d found a place deep inside of her and escaped to the precious time she’d spent in Chance Deveraux’s strong arms.
Along with the rush of painful memories came some good ones, too. For the first time, granny had reached out to her, only knowing a man had left her heartbroken. Granny’s brief, miraculous transformation of bitterness to love would forever be branded in Tessa’s soul. Love would heal them both.
Now, she searched his gaze, peeling away the hurt, looking past the rebel and into his soul. Her heart twisted as she hungrily stared at the man who had once claimed her heart and soul.
And he never even knew it, no one had, except me.
While coming here tonight, she’d convinced herself that once she saw him again the little girl crush she had on him years ago would have vanished. Now, mesmerized by his darkening gray eyes, she knew different. The attraction was there, stronger and more palpable than before. How in the world could she keep it buried from everyone this time?
She stared into the eyes of danger. He could never find out her secret,
all
of her secrets. Never. If he ever did he’d rush to tell granny the truth to gain the upper hand in the feud and ruin her relationship with her only surviving relative.
She had to do whatever it took to stay away from the one man who yearned to destroy her granny and in the end her. Despite the pulsating attraction between them, she knew he’d do it.
Panic began to bubble in her chest; if she wasn’t careful she’d eventually blurt out the truth. Her mouth had always gotten her in trouble. She had to get this over with, and quick, and then put as much distance between her and Chance as humanly possible.
“You didn’t answer my question. So why did you come here tonight to a place you knew wouldn’t welcome you, in fact might have even kicked you out?” His softly asked question dropped her back to earth.