Sweet as Sin (10 page)

He’s funny, once you cut through the bad-boy image, although his wit is sarcastic. And he’s a softhearted person, but he’d be pissed if I said that out loud. Watching him laugh is like, well, it’s amazing. You can tell he doesn’t laugh much but when he does, it changes his whole face.”

“Oh my God, you’re falling for him.” Andrea, red dripping down her hand, gaped at her as if she’d grown three heads.

Livvy wished she could deny it. Falling for John wasn’t smart; it held risks she was unfamiliar with. He made her pulse race and her stomach lighten with just a look, a touch. A smarter move would be to walk away, find someone less intense, less provoking.

Instead, a fierce strength swelled in her chest and she fixed her sister with a steady stare.

“Maybe I am. It’s so early, who knows. I just know that whatever’s happening feels good and I’m not stopping it.”

Livvy heard John’s door close, bid a hasty goodbye to her sister and dashed inside to grab her shoes and wallet. She met him at the border of their properties. Just watching him descend the 104

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stairs had made her appetite flutter. “We’re taking your truck?”

He nodded and in minutes backed out of the driveway. Livvy sneered at his radio station and flipped it. He flipped it back with a grin. They repeated the jostle five times until his hand on her knee stilled the battle. His smile made her lungs freeze despite the heat index.

“My truck, my music.”

“Redneck.”

“Proud of it.”

At the home improvement store, she laced her fingers in his and he squeezed her hand.

Contentment kicked through her system like caffeine. Who knew shingle shopping could be the best date she had ever had?

The smell hit him like a front-end loader, English Leather and peppermint. A chill formed in his gut and spread out like a cancer, consuming him. John drew a shaky hand down his clammy face and looked around for the monster that couldn’t be there. Across the checkout register, one aisle over, a man with a cane paid for petunias. The elderly man smiled wide, showing yellowed and missing teeth. Against his chill, a raging fire erupted in John’s belly as nausea blanketed him. He had to get out of there. Now.

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“I’ll wait at the truck.” He ignored Livvy’s confused frown and barreled through the

automatic doors. Dry heat smacked him in the face and he gulped burning lungfuls of air sprinting to the Ford. His heart pummeled his chest wall harder than a jackhammer. He bent at the waist, hands on knees, to inhale and exhale slowly.

Gradually his heart rate slowed, his breathing moderated and he climbed into the driver’s seat.

Logically, he knew what happened. Scent was the single most powerful trigger for memories, he’d read. The demonstration of that trigger just took him by surprise. He hadn’t smelled that

combination in twenty years.

“Hey, what happened in there?” Livvy’s voice jerked his head to the open passenger window.

The wind tossed her hair, and her eyes filled with concern.

“Just the heat.” The lie came easily. “Hop on in while I load up, okay? And fingers off the radio or you walk home. This truck is a no-pop zone.”

It worked
. She smiled and opened her door as he climbed out. He scooped the heavy pack off the wheeled trolley. The shingles hit the truck bed with a hard thump. It was a sound he was

intimately familiar with.

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Livvy worried her lip and studied John.
What
happened?
The earlier trip had been full of teasing and affection. Now tension and dark foreboding seethed in the truck cab. His jaw worked side to side and she could hear his teeth grinding. Every muscle in his body was tight, prepared for battle.

He never took his eyes off the road, brows pulled hard to the center.

She tried to draw him from his mood by

flipping the radio channel. He didn’t respond. She turned the music back with a sigh and looked out the window. The scenery zipped by at an amazing clip. Snapping her eyes back to him, she noticed the speedometer. Seventy.

“Murphy, slow down. There are always cops through here.”

His expression never changed but his foot fell on the accelerator. The massive engine purred like a satisfied cat and leaped. Eighty.

“Murphy! Come on, stop it.”

Lip curled, he pushed even more and the

vehicle soared past a line of cars. Eighty-five and climbing.

“I mean it. Slow down.”

Cold fury radiated from his fierce eyes and he glared at the road as if it were the enemy. Along his neck, below his ear, a dark vein stood out as he gritted his teeth and punched the motor.

Flashing lights whirled in the rearview mirror Inez Kelley

107

with a siren’s quick, loud
chirrrrrrrrp
and his eyes snapped up. “Shit!”

“What the hell did you expect?” she screeched.

The truck slowed and pulled to the side of the road. The familiar silver-and-black Crown Victoria coasted to a halt behind them. Livvy stared in the rearview mirror as a certain North Carolina State Trooper approached the truck.

Oh, this could be bad. Really, really bad.

John rested his wrists on the top of the steering wheel and closed his eyes. The tightly controlled blankness on his face couldn’t hide the blazing anger singing from his body. Livvy wished she were anywhere but here at this minute. She turned to face her window when the trooper stepped to the driver’s side.

“Sir, your license and registration, please.” She felt John shift and heard the visor in front of her flap down but she didn’t turn around. “Sir, do you realize you were going ninety-one… Livvy?”

Livvy pasted on a bright wide smile and turned around. “Hey, Leo.”

On the steering wheel John’s knuckles went white but he showed no other reaction. So far he hadn’t uttered a sound, and Livvy doubted any could escape the rigid cords of his throat. The confusion on Leo’s face slid to trained speculation.

He shifted a look from her to John and back.

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“Everything all right?” His voice was neutral but she caught the look of concern in his eyes.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Her voice cracked, too high and too fast, and deliberately took a quick breath. “Murphy’s working on my roof for me. We had to get some shingles before Lowe’s closed. Hey, you have to stop by the Shack tomorrow. I’m making chocolate-chip baklava, your favorite.”

I’m rambling. I’m rambling, Murphy’s got a
bug up his ass and Leo’s worried. One is pissed
and the other has a gun. Happy happy joy joy.

Leo’s gaze narrowed, judging her words, then moved to study John. John stared directly ahead, his fists squeezing the steering wheel. Leo held John’s license up, his eyes bouncing silently between the card and the man for a long minute before he lowered the plastic. Once more his gaze settled on Livvy. He gave her a small smile.

“I’ll be sure to swing by and get a piece. I do love your baklava.”

Holding the registration and license out in two fingers, he offered them back to John. Just as John moved to take them, Leo flipped them back toward his palm. Livvy groaned mentally.
Not
now, Leo. Please, none of this macho bullshit.

“Y’all have a good day. And slow down.”

John took his papers and nodded tightly. Leo touched his campaign hat brim and nodded back Inez Kelley

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before looking at Livvy. The look he sent her was pure warning. “I’ll call you, Liv.”

John put the truck in gear and pulled back into traffic at a legal speed. The tic that appeared in his jaw enthralled her. He stayed silent for several tense minutes.

“I’d have paid the damn ticket, Livvy. You didn’t have to flirt my way out of it.” His voice was gravel and bit the air with friction.

She swung her head and glared. “I wasn’t

flirting, and if you’d slowed down when I asked, you wouldn’t have gotten stopped.”

“What? And missed meeting the famous Leo?

Hell, no, wouldn’t have missed that experience for the world. Think he’ll call you tonight? Or will he wait until tomorrow? He want more than

chocolate chips with his baklava?”

The sarcasm was too much. Whatever strain had filled the cab had seeped into her skin and she lashed out. “All right, you know what? You’re a dick. He’s a friend, that’s all. Grow up, Murphy.”

“Right, a friend,” he sneered. “I saw you kiss him.”

“So what do you want, a cookie?” Livvy

shoved her hair off her forehead. “It was a peck between friends, that’s it. I’ve done a hell of a lot more with you, although at this minute, you couldn’t pay me to kiss you.”

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John shot onto a side street. He slammed the truck into park, released his seatbelt and whirled in one motion. His kiss stole the gasp from her throat. The center console bit into her hip as his tongue slid between her lips. She tried to hold on to her anger, but it proved too difficult.

“Murphy—”

“I’m sorry, Livvy. I just…got jealous and I’m being a bastard.” With her forehead against his, she felt him force the stiffness from his body. The hand from her nape sank into her hair and he squeezed his eyes tight. “Forgive me?”

Livvy pulled back and shook her head. “You confuse the hell out of me, Murphy. You’re so easy to get pissed at and yet so easy to forgive. By now, you have to know I don’t want any other man. This isn’t about Leo. What happened back there? What made you so upset?”

“Let it go, Liv, okay? I’m sorry.” The smile he sent was dazzling, brilliant and as fake as a three-dollar bill.

The message rang loud and clear.
Back off.

The shingles package bit into his shoulder as John hefted it up and slammed the tailgate shut. A lightweight flashing was coiled in a cardboard box and Livvy carried it easily across the lawn. Angry voices halted them both.

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“How come you get a five-thousand-dollar

dress and I have to eat chicken? Get a cheaper gown and a better menu.”

Tugging on John’s arm, Livvy pulled him

toward the house. He dropped the shingles as softly as possible and followed her into the kitchen.

“Barbie and Ken fight much?” He motioned

out the window to the backyard-turned-

battleground. Ever since Livvy had confided her secret comparison to him, he couldn’t stop mentally seeing the two wearing bathing suits and standing in little cardboard boxes.

“Not usually, but Andy’s being a bit of a control freak with the wedding. Want some lemonade?”

He accepted just to have something to do with his hands. His skin crawled with the intensity of his earlier anger. He’d been looking forward to maybe swinging the hammer before the last of the daylight faded. Giving the arguing couple space seemed a smarter move but his mind shifted from anger to sex with lightning speed. The surplus adrenaline coursed through his veins like a drug, heightening his awareness.

Livvy flitted around the kitchen, chattering, but he couldn’t focus on her words. Her ass was a different story. The firm rounds of her butt pressed against her capris as she bent to pull 112

Sweet as Sin

something out of the cabinet. On any given day, if he were asked his favorite part of a woman’s body, he’d give a different answer. Legs, breasts, ass, he liked it all. But with Livvy there was something sensual about her, something just a tick over beautiful that made him instantly hard. He wanted her like mad. Just the memory of the soft sounds she made when she came on his fingers made his cock jump.

He ripped his eyes from her body and

concentrated on her face before he had a visible erection. No sense browsing when the

merchandise wasn’t available yet. Her full lips moved as she spoke but he wasn’t listening. He imagined them sliding along his skin. Something she said must have been funny because she laughed, tossing her head back and exposing her throat. A knot grew in his gut at the expanse of creamy skin. He wanted to bury his head there, lap the sugar from her body until she begged for more.

This is not working. I need to burn off some
energy fast
. John pressed the icy glass to his forehead and tried to think about gas prices, changing the oil in his truck or how much his ticket would have been. Nothing would erase the erotic image of Livvy naked, those violet eyes pleading for him to take her. That image morphed into angry brown eyes, spitting fire.

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Everything got too loud. The refrigerator hummed like a bee. The swoop-click of the second hand on the clock grated and he swallowed.

His pulse rate jumped, booming in his ears like a kettledrum. Sweat popped along his upper lip. His gaze flicked to the doorway. Three steps and he could be out of the kitchen. Another forty-four steps to his deck staircase. Less than a minute and he could be in his house, safe and in control. His feet twitched to move.

The patio door shot open and John bolted

straight, his grip nearly shattering the glass in his hand. Without thought, he put his body between Livvy and the door.

“Divorce attorneys should never get married anyway so maybe there won’t be a wedding.

How’s that for a compromise?” Tow threw over his shoulder. He left the patio door open and stalked down the hall. Eyes wide, Livvy hurried into the back yard.

John crossed to the counter and peeked out the curtained window. Andrea was crying, her head bent into her arms. Livvy rubbed her shoulders as her mouth worked soundlessly.
Yeah, two
emotional women, time to bail.

Tow stormed up the hall carrying a gym bag overflowing with clothes. The deep flush on his face was almost comedic but there was nothing funny about the wrath in his eyes. He jammed the 114

Sweet as Sin

bag onto the counter. “Want to go grab a couple beers?”

Alcohol sounded fucking perfect right now.

“Yeah. Let me tell Li—”

“Don’t do it, man. Escape the noose while you can. Before you know it, you’ll have to ask permission to take a leak and she’ll have your balls in her purse, too. Screw it, let’s just go.”