The Chase (6 page)

“So that’s it? We’re just good now? Friends?” Evan asked, his expression a little bemused.

“Being friends would be nice.” And so would having him take her hard up against a wall.

Yikes. Where had that thought come from? Kendall crossed her legs in between his. Tuesday was right. She needed to get out more.

“Okay, so fill me in on the last ten years. What have you been up to?”

That question was easy. “Umm, let’s see. Driving with single-minded determination. That’s about it.”

“No quickie Vegas weddings? No trips around the world? No moment where you walked away from it all and decided you wanted to be like a pastry chef or something?”

“No, no, and no. I wanted to be a driver.”

“And now you are.”

“And now I am.”

He smiled softly, a smile that went all the way to his rich chocolate eyes. “Good for you, Kendall. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” she said, mortified when she realized how breathy her voice sounded. Clearing her throat, she added, “What about you? What have you been doing?”

“Same thing as you. Though it’s safe to say I lack the single-minded determination.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Just that I haven’t been driving well. Some days I just wake up and wonder if this is it . . . struggling and never getting that championship win, that holy grail of racing.”

“Some drivers never get that. It doesn’t mean you weren’t successful.” Kendall paused, wondering what else she should say. The truth was, she and Evan didn’t know each other anymore, and she couldn’t tell if he was really discontent or just expressing frustration.

But while she gathered her thoughts, he shrugged and grinned. “Listen to me whining. Guess I don’t have much to complain about. I wouldn’t have made a good pastry chef either.”

So he didn’t want to go deep. That was fine. Kendall was just so glad they were talking like this, normal, relaxed, that she wasn’t about to push it. “Oh, I don’t know. You made me a cake for my eighteenth birthday, remember? It was chocolate and it was awesome. A little lopsided, but it tasted like heaven.”

The gesture had been as sweet as the chocolate.

But Evan gave her a sheepish look. “I have a confession to make. I tried to bake you a cake, and it was a disaster, so I bought another box mix and paid Eve twenty bucks to do it for me.”

Kendall laughed. “Are you serious? Well, damn, and here I thought you were a whiz in the kitchen. But I think I’m flattered. At that point in our lives, twenty bucks was serious cash.”

“Very true. And the kitchen is not a room I excel in. On the other hand . . .”

Oh, she knew that look. Kendall held her breath, her heart ramming against her rib cage. “Yeah?”

When the hell had his hand dropped onto her knee? And why wasn’t she shifting away from it?

“I definitely know my way around the bedroom.”

THE
minute the words came out of Evan’s mouth he figured he had just veered into scumbag territory, but he was drunk, and Kendall was smiling at him, and it had just flown out before he could stop it. Here they were, having a friendly conversation for the first time in years and he had to go and ruin it. But that was precisely why he had said it . . . it had been so long since he’d seen her in anything more than passing, and that had always been laced with animosity.

Sitting here, legs close, chatting intimately and openly, he had just been overcome by how beautiful she was, and the flirt had just popped out.

Drunk or not, he knew he needed to apologize.

But before he could, Kendall said, “I remember that even more than I remember your chocolate cake.”

Damn
.

“In those days I probably had more enthusiasm than skill, but being with you made it easy, Kendall.”

“It was definitely easy, alright.” Her tongue moistened her lips. “I didn’t know I could feel that kind of pleasure until you.”

“I was scared to screw it up since I was your first . . . I wanted it to be good for you.”

“It was.”

Her eyes had darkened with the same lust he was feeling, but also with tenderness. The combination had Evan’s gut twisted up, feeling like he’d landed squarely back in the past, when they had been together and he had been happy. Being loved by this woman had been a damn fine thing.

“I have never regretted it was you. Not even after the way it ended.”

Evan swallowed hard against the emotion that was crawling up his throat. “Thanks. I needed to hear that. And trust me, I never regretted it either. Even when I was pounding on your front door, I wouldn’t have traded that for never having met you.”

“I guess that’s good at the same time it’s tragic, huh?”

Yeah. But he’d spent enough time wondering, regretting. It was time for a new chapter in their story. “We can only go forward, not backwards. No sense in beating ourselves up any more than we have.”

“Oh, I can always find ways to beat myself up.” Kendall gave a slight smile then shifted her leg so it was alongside his.

Evan knew he probably shouldn’t be this close to her, shouldn’t be stroking her thigh right above her knee, but it felt so natural, the expression on her face triggering his response. That was the way she’d always looked at him, like he was the only person in the room, and while he knew he didn’t have the right to still touch her, it felt like he should.

“Don’t beat yourself up about this or anything else. We were kids. It was overdramatic and dumb. Just remember that I loved you.”

The minute those words left his mouth, Evan suddenly realized that he needed to get the hell out of there. Needed to put distance between himself and her dewy pink lips, her cleavage, which had matured in the last ten years, and her tender, lust-laced eyes.

Especially when she said in a breathy voice, “Oh, I loved you, too.”

That wide gaze, the warmth of her body, the sexual tension in her voice had him leaping off his bar stool. Time to go before he said or did something totally and completely stupid.

“That’s probably a good place to leave this, Kendall, before we manage to find a way to irritate each other again. I should go. Thanks for coming out. I’m really damn glad you did.” Evan pulled out his wallet and dropped some cash on the bar.

“I’m glad I did, too, but I don’t think you should drive home, Evan. You have had quite a few drinks.”

He wanted to deny it, but it was the truth. “I’ll call a cab.” He sucked down the last of his water and pulled out his phone. “I’ll just look up the number.”

“I can give you a ride. I only had one beer.”

Damn it. Evan gripped his phone hard and fought temptation. It was the polite thing for her to say, right? It didn’t mean anything at all. Nothing suggestive or sexual or anything beyond casual friendship. Just that she didn’t want him to die or get cited with a DUI. She’d offer any idiot she knew a ride, including this idiot.

“It’s not a big deal.” It wasn’t. He needed to not make it one. Punching buttons on his phone, he tried to focus on finding the cab company’s number.

“Don’t be stupid. I’m giving you a ride.” Kendall stood up, grabbing her purse off the bar. “I just need to pay for my drink.”

Evan paused and gave her an incredulous look. “I already paid for your drink. And I guess you calling me stupid means that little moment we had a minute ago has passed. I didn’t get out of here fast enough before the good feelings went to hell.”

“Well, you are being stupid. It’s way easier for me to give you a ride than for you to sit around waiting for a cab. And the reason the moment passed is because you decided to bolt.”

Bolt? She thought he was capable of bolting? That was a surefire way to put his back up. “You calling me chicken?”

“I think we’re both chicken. That’s why we wound up not together in the first place.”

Evan drew himself up to his full height and looked down at the little spitfire in front of him. “I don’t back down from anything. On the track or off.”

“Oh, yeah? Then let me drive you home.”

She had crossed her arms on her chest and tilted her chin to meet his gaze defiantly, and Evan knew precisely what he was going to do. “I will if you give me a kiss.”

Her mouth dropped open. “I don’t think so!”

Evan fought the urge to smile in triumph. “Chicken.”

“I’m not chicken on or off the track, either.”

“Then kiss me.” He had her neatly cornered and felt damn smug about it.

She, on the other hand, looked furious. “I could just let you get a cab after all, you know.”

“But you won’t because that would be like letting me win.”

Kendall stood silent for a second, clearly weighing her options. Then she nodded. “Okay, if that’s the way you’re going to be. I admit that I can’t let you finish something I started. It’s a character flaw.”

Evan grinned. “One I’m about to enjoy.”

Kissing Kendall was like playing with matches and a big old vat of moonshine, but he was the first to admit he wasn’t exactly known for slow and logical. He was the poster child for speaking without thinking.

Her arms were still crossed and she did all but purse her lips as she stood there waiting. Evan tossed his phone onto the bar, and took his time moving in closer to her, studying her jawline, her pert nose, her luscious lips, her rich amber eyes watching him nervously. It pleased him to think that he could make her nervous, that the thought of a kiss just might have her insides twisting the way his were. When he lifted his hand to her face, she jerked a little, her backside bumping up against the bar.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Touching you,” he murmured as he cupped her cheek and leaned down over her.

The palm of his hand slid against the smoothness of her skin, while his fingers tangled into her hair, his lips drawing closer and closer to hers. Evan had positioned himself one leg on either side of hers so she was surrounded by him, a small but sexy nod to submission.

“Just get it over—”

Cutting Kendall off with his lips, Evan stifled the rest of her sentence, with the only goal making her forget to want any kiss with him to end. But the second his lips touched hers, he forgot whatever it was he was trying to prove. The second his mouth caressed hers, it was like he was nineteen all over again, hot and flushed and excited and in love. His mouth remembered Kendall, even after a decade, and he knew exactly how to tilt and touch her.

Desire shot through his body, aching shot through his heart, understanding shot through his mind. Gripping his hand in her hair tighter, Evan pulled her closer to him, pressing her chest against his as she opened her lips and surrendered to his kiss. What started out as one soft press of his lips to hers turned into a series of long, delicious, demanding kisses, his tongue slipping inside to taste her.

Past and present collided, sensory memories assaulting him, yet the desire was very much real and now, the tension between them new, their touch wary and mature instead of reckless and fumbling. She moaned, a breathy little sigh against his lips, and Evan followed suit when she dropped her belligerent stance and threw her arms around his neck.

She’d gone up on her tiptoes, and Evan moved his hands down her back, down to the curve of her ass, and squeezed. It felt so good, all of it, so good, that he forgot where he was, who he was, and what he was. Nothing mattered but tasting her, taking her mouth over and over and owning it.

But Kendall dropped down to the balls of her feet and pulled back when his hand slipped to the inside of her thighs. Definitely disappointed, definitely grateful that at least she’d had the sense to call a halt given that they were in public, Evan stared down at her, an erection that could cut glass straining against his jeans while he waited for her to ream him out. She was breathing hard, wiping her dewy lips, her eyes ginormous.

“Told you I wasn’t chicken,” she said.

Evan grinned. “Neither am I. Now I guess you should give me a ride home, huh?” And if he had his way, they’d be making a little pit stop en route and trying that kiss on for size a second time.

KENDALL
just about stripped her gears pulling out of her parking space, she was that unnerved. She drove a Corvette, a good old American sports car, full of speed and detailing and country sass. It had over 620 horsepower, and while its front weight bias might mean it would have a hard time beating out some of the other super sports models head-to-head on the open track, it was a damn fine car. It had been what her father had always wanted, and Kendall had bought one for him and one for herself. Her dad had wanted black. She had gone for the cobalt blue, that perfect shade that landed somewhere between royal and midnight, and it made her happy.

A symbol of success.

But at the moment, she was taking no pleasure in driving it with Evan Monroe riding shotgun. Because over the years she had thought about thumbing her nose at Evan, about rubbing his face in her success, just a little.