Riding Out the Storm (10 page)

“I
know it.” He covered her hand with his and looked down at it before looking
back into her eyes. “But I see you with Zach and I wonder—”

“He’s
just my friend, just a co-worker. I never loved him, though I suppose the
person I was at the time wanted to. Can we—I don’t want us working together to
be a problem for you.”

He
eased back and smoothed her skirt down, then took her hand and drew her to a
sitting position. “He’s not my favorite person, and I wonder what he did that
was bad enough to push you away, yet you still remain close. But I trust you.”

Warmth
spread through her. “You do?” She could explain the rest to him later, and hope
he’d understand. But tonight it was about the two of them, as it should have
been this weekend.

“I’m
sorry I made you think I didn’t.” He cupped her cheek and kissed her softly. “It’s
part of being in love, isn’t it?”

She
swayed into him as the car turned a corner. Off-balance was apparently the
theme of the evening. “You love me?”

He
trailed his fingers through her hair and the corner of his mouth hooked up. “I figured
it out when I walked out of the motel and knew I didn’t want to be anywhere
else but with you.”

She
shifted closer, covering his hand with hers. “Then you’re a little slow on the
uptake, because I realized I loved you when I saw how calm you were when our
plans went to hell. How patient you were to wait for my anniversary. Your—generosity
only sealed the deal.”

He
angled his head to cover her mouth with his, and she squeezed his shoulder as
warmth rolled through her—desire and so much more.

“Where
are we going?” she asked when they parted.

“I
got us a room. Our own room. With a heater.” He kissed her temple. “And one.”
He kissed her ear. “Big.” He kissed her jaw. “Bed. We’re going to have the
weekend we wanted. We just have to squeeze it in to one night.”

“No.”
Tears blurred her eyes as she looked up at him. “We have the rest of our lives.”

Also
Available

Lessons For
Teacher

by

Emma Jay

University
teaching assistant Jamie Winston is ready to break out of her shy,
unadventurous shell by finally approaching Brady Lane—the sexy Iraqi war vet
seated in the front row of her journalism class. He’s brave and
outgoing—something Jamie is not—and good looking to boot. Her shy flirtation
with Brady at a frat party leads to a deliciously sinful tryst that leaves her
wanting more. Each breathless encounter with Brady peels away a layer of Jamie’s
insecurity, leaving her more wanton and willing each time. But eventually, all
good things must come to an end. When Brady finally leaves for an internship,
will Jamie be brave enough to let him go?

Chapter One

The music
pounded in Jamie Winston’s blood as she walked up the steps to the frat house,
feeling as out of place among the milling bodies as she felt in front of the
journalism class where she was the teaching assistant.

Like a fraud.

She’d never
been to a frat party in her life, just something else she’d missed her first
time in college. Her marriage and job had taken all her time, though she’d
longed for the complete college experience. She wouldn’t have the courage now,
her second chance at college, if her best friend Susan hadn’t encouraged her to
act on this ridiculous impulse.

That, and her
inappropriate crush, Brady Lane, was rumored to be here. Susan grinned
approvingly, giving Jamie a once-over and an exaggerated wink. Great. She’d let
her younger friend choose her wardrobe—a knit spaghetti strapped top, snug
jeans and wedges—a far cry from the loose blouses and conservative skirts she
wore for class, but appropriate for a warm October evening in Texas. Susan also
had a hand in fixing her hair, an almost sultry style, dark blonde hair
tumbling out of a carefully placed hair clip. Sort of librarian-gone-wild. And
her make-up, well, she almost didn’t recognize herself.

She hoped
Brady would recognize her. Or maybe not.

She wasn’t in
the habit of crushing on her journalism students, but Brady was different. He
was older than the others, close to her age of twenty-five, having served in
Iraq in order to qualify for the GI Bill. He was handsome, yes, tall and broad
shouldered with biceps as big as her waist, but more, he was intense, focused,
and interested in what she was teaching. He wanted to be a war correspondent,
and his bravery excited her as much as anything else.

She got the
feeling that he, like her, wanted the complete college experience, no matter
that he was five years older than the other students here.

She spotted
him as soon as they entered the main room of the frat house. He leaned against
the wall by the bar, a bottle in his big hand. Younger men surrounded him, a
mixture of hero-worship and acceptance. The air of command about him made her
nipples hard. Did she have the courage to approach him?

Susan leaned
close and growled playfully in approval. Great, he was here, now what? How was
she supposed to get his attention? And what would she do if she got it? She had
the feeling if she gave him the right signals, he would take charge. While she
knew this was shaky ground, considering she was a T.A., she couldn’t help
herself. Something about Brady compelled her to step out of the comfort zone
she’d allowed herself since her divorce.

As if he
sensed her thoughts, he glanced up and met her gaze. Her face heated, but she
didn’t look away, instead gave him what had to be a goofy smile. He returned
it, brows drawn together a bit quizzically, then turned back to the guys with
him.

So not a good
sign. Disappointment burned hot in her belly.

“Go talk to
him. I’ll get us something to drink,” Susan urged, nudging Jamie with her
shoulder.

Okay, this
was why she’d come, but the last of her nerve had gotten her up the steps and
through the door. She caught him looking at her again, this time more speculative.
She pulled in a deep breath and moved across the room toward him.

“Hi, Brady,”
she murmured.

“Jamie.”

A shiver went
through her when he said her name. She didn’t teach as Miss Winston, though she
knew other T.A.s did. That he thought of her by that name gave her hope. That
meant he thought about her.

Wow, she was
suddenly feeling way younger than anyone else here.

“I didn’t
expect to see you here.” His gaze traveled up and down her body. She quivered
with the need to hunch her shoulders or otherwise hide.

“Dayum,” one
of the boys surrounding him added, his gaze following the same path as Brady’s
had. “You put the ‘t’ and ‘a’ in T.A.”

“Dude. Not
cool,” Brady chided. “And terrible line.”

The boy
shrugged and turned back to his friends, but Brady kept his eyes steady on
hers. She dipped her head, her courage deserting her, afraid he’d see too much.

“You want a
drink?” he offered.

“My friend’s
getting one.” She gestured toward Susan, who approached.

“Your date?”

“My-no! No, I’m
not—” God, did he think she was a lesbian? Boy, talk about seduction fail.

“Okay.” He
took a swallow of beer, still watching her as she accepted her own bottle from
Susan. “Do you come to a lot of frat parties?”

“This is my
first. You?”

Three girls
burst out of the crowd, pushing past Jamie to grasp Brady’s hands and arms. “We’re
playing Truth or Dare. Come play with us.”

He hung back,
even as one girl’s slim hand glided intimately over his waist. His grin was
affable as he shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Oh, come on.”
One curled her hand around his arm and pressed her breast to his bicep. “It’s
going to be dirty.”

He snuffled a
laugh and sipped his beer. “Not really my thing.”

“Honey, it
could be.” The three girls tugged at him, working together, but he remained
firmly against the wall.

“Another
time,” he said smoothly.

“You always
say that,” one of the girls pouted. “No matter what we ask.” But she turned
away with her friends, who contented themselves with his friend.

“I want to
play,” Susan piped up, following. “Hot boys.”

Jamie opened
her mouth to protest being left alone, but Susan was swallowed by the crowd.
Jamie eased back against the wall by Brady’s side, pulse pounding, mentally
cursing Susan for abandoning her.

“So what made
you decide to come?” Brady asked, lifting his beer to his lips.

“A few of my
students invited me. I always wondered what it might be like.”

“I thought
you might be undercover, doing a story or something.” He brushed a fingertip
over her bare shoulder, sending heat pulsing through to all her favorite parts.
“This is a different look for you. Don’t get me wrong.” He held out a hand,
palm out to stem her protest. “I like it. A lot.”

She huffed
out a nervous laugh, her nipples tightening at just that simple contact. God,
the man had an uncommon power. “No, not undercover. And thanks.”

“Is it what
you expected?”

“Um.” She
looked from the circle of Truth or Dare players just as one of the girls
flashed her breasts, to a couple pressed against the bar, the boy’s hand up the
girl’s skirt, his rhythmic movements leaving no doubt about what he was doing.
Another boy puked in the corner. “Not quite. A little more
Animal House
than I expected. What are you doing here?”

The corner of
his mouth hitched up. “Doing a story.”

“For your
journalism portfolio.”

“I’m applying
for an internship in the spring.”

She ignored
the tightness in her chest from his words, from the knowledge he’d be moving on
soon. Which meant if she was going to do this, she was running out of time. “I
know. I already sent in my recommendation.”

“Yeah?
Thanks.”

“You’re a
talented writer. I don’t think you’ll have any problem.”

He turned to
face her, his shoulder against the wall, a grin creasing his handsome face. “I
don’t think you came here to talk shop.”

“No. I didn’t.”
She smiled. She’d taken the first step toward what she’d come here to do,
attracting his attention.

“So. Truth or
dare?”

Wariness
winged through her at the playful glint in his eyes, and she glanced toward the
circle where Susan was playing tonsil hockey with Brady’s friend.

“Truth.”

“Why are you
really here?”

She gave a
toss of her hair, hoping to convince him of the lie. “Susan wanted to come and
she didn’t want to come alone.”

He looked
over at the circle. “Yeah, I don’t buy it. You know the penalty in lying in
truth or dare? You have to do a dare.”

She drew in a
sharp breath at the winking dimple. What kind of challenge would he give her?
Something sexy? Could she pull it off? Her confidence was shaky. “What would
you dare me to do?”

He lifted his
gaze as if he was considering. “Let me think about it. I’m pretty sure it has
something to do with that outfit, though.”

A sizzle of
desire ran through her, settling between her legs. For the first time she
considered tonight might actually end as she fantasized, in his arms. She sipped
from her bottle. “Okay. Truth or dare.”

“Dare.”

Okay, she
hadn’t expected that. She’d been prepared to ask some lame question that she
probably already knew the answer to. Now she had to think of a dare.

The driving
pulse of music gave her an idea. “Dance with me,” she blurted.

He lifted his
eyebrows. “That’s your dare?”

“Not
challenging enough?”

He shook his
head. “Not nearly.”