Luck of the Draw (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 1) (20 page)

He stopped in the shade of a nearby bridge and threw up his hands in a helpless gesture.

“What is it about you?” he asked, as if she had any idea whatsoever what he was talking about. He closed his eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right. I’m just trying to figure out… make
sense
…” He shoved his hand in his hair again and took a couple steps forward then stopped as if thinking better of getting too close. “What I can’t figure out is what is it about you that every time we’re in the same room, I can’t think of anything but— ”

“Kissing me?” she ventured.

His lips became a grim line. “
Among other things.”

She stared up at him, at the soft clump of hair that stuck out where he’d shoved his fingers into it. She already knew how it would feel. “Maybe it’s pheromones.”

“Pheromones.”

“Yeah. You know, like hormones for the olfactory senses. I read about it in a magazine once.”

“Pheromones,” he repeated.

“Apparently you don’t really smell them, more your body senses them and reacts. It happens completely without our being aware of it.”

He nodded, stepping closer. “That would explain why I can’t explain it. I just have this really out-of-proportion attraction to you, and it’s driving me nuts. I haven’t been able to figure out what happened that day... why we—”

“Collided in the bathroom?”

“Yeah.”

She nodded. “It took me by surprise, too.” She looked at him then
—at the way a little shock of hair curled adorably over his forehead, at the way his eyes crinkled at the corners—and got all tingly inside. “So, um…what now?”

He stared at her, clearly not understanding the question.

“What do we do now… about this, um, out-of-proportion attraction thing?”

“You’re not bothered by it?”

“Should I be?”

“
You’re a widow!”
he cried.

Kate closed her eyes. “So everyone keeps reminding me.”

“Isn’t this,” he made a rapid motion back and forth between them, “I don’t know...
inappropriate
?”

“Inappropriate?” she cried, the warm fuzzy feeling zipping away. “Do you realize this is the first time I’ve been out
—
alone
—like a real grown-up since Randy died? Do you think I want to stand here in my best sundress debating whether I’ve gone through an appropriate mourning period? What does that even mean?

“I was looking forward to just one night where I could be me, okay? A night I could relax, have a good time, laugh a little, maybe get lucky...”
Get lucky?
What was she saying? Never mind, she was on a roll!

“So don’t talk to me about what’s appropriate,” she said, practically stabbing him in the chest with her index finger, “or I’m liable to do something really inappropriate just to spite you!”

He stared at her, the silence stretching out between them. “You were hoping to get lucky?”

CHAPTER NINETEEN
____________________

KATE
STARED AT
J
IM.
O
KAY, more precisely, his mouth. “Maybe,” she said.

He glanced up the hill to the diner. “Would it be really inappropriate to suggest we ditch Doug and Rachel and go somewhere... alone?”

Kate absorbed his words, a warm tingle swirling deep in her belly. “Probably.” His face fell. “But I’d like that anyway.”

“You would?”

She smiled. “Do you want me to change my mind?”

“No! No, don’t do that. We’ll
—let’s go.” With that, he grabbed her hand, his fingers warm and firm on her own, as they stumbled up the embankment to the diner.

“Go where?” she asked.

He paused in front of the diner. “My place?”

Kate felt another swirl of heat in her belly. She nodded.

Eager excitement flashed across Jim’s face, as he pushed at the diner door. “I’ll handle this,” he said as he handed her his truck keys.

A few minutes later he slid into the pickup, a plastic bag of take-out containers in hand. “Thought you might want it later,” he murmured as he grabbed the truck key and crammed it into the ignition.

They rode in silence, the anticipation palpable. Kate thought she could feel it, pressing on her skin, her own excited energy pushing out.

She licked her lips and glanced out the window. It was a short drive to the lake. A few minutes. Not nearly enough time to entertain second-thoughts.

Which was just as well, because if she allowed herself to wonder what she was doing, whether it was fair to Jim, to Liam, to… Dear God, she’d probably run back to the safe familiarity of Connecticut at the first opportunity.

Fact was, though, it was July second. Randy had been gone over two months now.

She closed her eyes and resolutely closed the lid on her emotions.

She wasn’t thinking about that tonight. She wasn’t thinking about the past or mistakes, who she was or what the future held. Tonight was about living. Here. Now.

The pickup lurched to a stop in Jim’s driveway. He cut the engine, silence filling the cab, his hands resting on the steering wheel. Finally, he looked at her.

“It’s not too late to change your mind,” he said.

She swallowed any remaining uncertainty. “I wouldn’t be sitting here if I wasn’t sure.”

He nodded, tugging at the brim of his cap thoughtfully before pulling it off and setting it on the dash. He grabbed the take-out bag then jogged around to open her door. Kate slid out, her sandals crunching on the gravel drive.

He stood so close she could see the sweat glisten on his brow, a muscle twitch in his cheek. He wet his lips and took a step away. She watched his throat shift as he swallowed.

Jim unlocked the back door to his house, and Kate preceded him into the small hallway of his walk-out basement. Pegs on the wall overflowed with coats and clutter. Jim hurriedly relieved a peg of its cargo and stuffed it over another. “Maybe we should have gone around front. I wasn’t expecting company.”

She assured him it was fine and hung her purse and sweater on the hook then followed him upstairs. The house had a simple layout with the kitchen/dining area to the left and living area to the right. And while it was clearly a bachelor’s home, it was homey; and, aside from a toppling pile of
Fine Homebuilding
magazines by the lone couch and a partially-dissected power tool on the dining room table, it was neat.

Jim indicated Kate should make herself at home in the living room while he put away the food. “Can I get you something to drink?” he called from the kitchen. “Lemonade?”

“Sounds perfect.” Kate picked up a small but exquisitely crafted wooden decoy from a shelf in the living room and turned it over in her hands. She set it back and picked up another.

“Gramps carved that one.”

She jumped at Jim’s voice and nearly bobbled the decoy before placing it back on the shelf. “They’re lovely. Did he make them all?”

“No. Just those two. The rest are mine.”

“
You
made these?”

He shrugged.

“They’re beautiful!”

“Thanks.” He bit his lower lip. “Here’s your lemonade.”

Kate thanked him for the drink and took a sip. He was staring at her again. Clearly she was going to need to get the ball rolling or they’d be talking about wooden birds and drinking lemonade all night.

“What did you say to Rachel and Doug?”

He took a sip of his drink. “I, ah, told Doug we had to go.”

“Didn’t he want to know why?”

Jim cleared his throat. “I think it was obvious.” He looked away, his cheeks tinged pink under his tan.

He was staring at her now, the easy smile that had become so familiar in the brief time she’d known him replaced with a tense, watchful demeanor.

Her skin tingled and she looked for a place to set down her drink. Spying a coaster, she set her glass on a side table. Jim leaned over and put his drink next to hers. He didn’t bother with a coaster.

She could hear their breathing in the quiet room, the air a bit close from the heat of the day. She smiled.

He grimaced.

“Kate, I—”

She put her finger to his lips. “Please, don’t. I know this must seem crazy. We hardly know each other, but… I don’t want to analyze it. Not now.”

She didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to admit her behavior was so far removed from her usual comfort zone it was like observing someone else. But Jim made her feel safe in a way she couldn’t put her finger on. Safe… and alive. No, that wasn’t right. He made her feel… hopeful. There was something about his eyes. So gentle, so kind. When she looked into his eyes, all the sad, lonely years melted away, and her heart felt light again, like a butterfly in her breast. She hadn’t felt that feeling in so very, very long. She couldn’t bear to turn it away. Not now. Not yet.

He nodded, his gaze boring into hers as he grasped her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. His thumb brushed over her fingers as he looked at her hand. “You took off your ring,” he whispered.

She nodded, and he brought her hand to his lips again, looked her in the eyes. “Tell me what you want,” he said.

“For you
,” she managed a shaky breath, “to do that again?”

He grinned against her wrist.

Kate watched, mesmerized, as his lips brushed her skin again, tracing a heated trail up her arm, his afternoon stubble lightly abrading as he worked his way to her shoulder.

Her mouth opened on a silent sigh as he trailed kisses up her neck, his tongue a silken tickle behind her ear. Her heart was pounding in her chest, an excited drum beat, and he hadn’t even kissed her on the lips.

“Are you sure about this?” His voice was low, his breath an uneven staccato on her cheek.

She closed her eyes. She could smell the light, sweet scent of arousal on his skin. “Yes.”

She slid her hands to his shoulders, her fingers digging in as he teased her with feather-light kisses, always a breath away but never quite touching his lips to hers.

This is what she wanted. To lose herself in the moment. To live in the moment. To forget everything else. Everyone else.

To feel happy and hopeful and, dare she say it, desirable for just a little while.

His body tensed under her fingertips, muscles bunching as she held onto him, her own balance compromised by his tender assault. She slid her hand instinctively down his rib cage, to the side of his hip. Forward.

“Kate,” he warned, his hand holding hers at bay. “I’m trying to take this slow.”

She grasped his face in her palms and made him look at her, a shiver of excitement sliding up her spine. “I never asked you to.”

He stood, motionless, his breath coming in short bursts, his hair lightly mussed, eyes dark.

She could hear the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, the ticking of a clock somewhere in the room and the pounding of her own pulse in her ears.

She couldn’t say who made the first move. All she knew is one moment they were staring at each other—still as the air around them—the next moment their mouths were fused, bodies crushed together in inelegant, urgent need.

His T-shirt went first, yanked over his head while trying to avoid separating their lips for any longer than necessary.

Kate appreciated this effort. As he toed off his sneakers, she kicked off her sandals and guided his hands to the button on her halter dress, sighing against his lips as he cupped her breasts in his palms as soon as the light fabric slid away.

She dug her fists into his hair, plastering their lips together, then pulled away to gasp for breath before diving back for more.

They made their way across the living room, fumbling with clothes, exploring, tasting, tugging. Then Jim stumbled on the trousers that had pooled at his ankles and pulled them both, sprawling, onto the couch.

Kate giggled against his lips, his muffled
oof!
swallowed by her mouth as she let her hands roam over his bare skin, enjoying the fact that he was pinned beneath her. It gave her a sense of power. Control. Except she didn’t need or want control over this. Wanted it to consume her. Invited it to.

Jim groaned against her mouth then pushed up and over in an effort to roll her beneath him.

They slid unceremoniously to the floor, narrowly missing the edge of the coffee table, tangled in their remaining clothes. Jim slumped his head against her bare shoulder.

“Before we kill each other,” he gasped, “why don’t we take this upstairs?”

Kate nodded earnestly, unable to form a single word, much less a whole sentence.

He kicked off his trousers and stood, cotton boxers the only clothes he had left on, as he helped her to her feet. Kate swallowed hard when he slid his hands down her body, taking her dress to the floor, leaving her in nothing but a pair of hot pink bikini underwear.