Chapter 5
Chapter Five
At first, I didn’t believe my eyes. But now that I’ve caught his scent on the breeze, there’s no denying. The dip my stomach takes reminds me of riding on a rollercoaster. “I would never have expected to see you here.”
Questions burn through me as I move closer to the stranger from the bank when I should probably be going the other way.
Eyes softening, he studies my face as he turns toward me, lowering his voice for only my ears. “I was told everyone would be here, so I was hoping on an outside chance that included you.”
Smooth.
Tonight he’s in a perfectly fitted black suit, black shirt, and dark gray tie. No baseball cap tonight and his thick dark hair is impossible to ignore.
Man, he really is as handsome as I remember. Maybe more. I’ve never liked business men, but this man redefines what a suit can look like.
Then, there’s that face. My god , he is an architectural marvel. A perfect collection of angular planes and hard edges anchored by a solid jaw and sexy lips that make my skin crave his kiss.
The burning in my veins grows worse by the second.
But as hot as he makes me, beyond all that yummy collection of body parts, there’s a stillness in the man’s dark gray eyes that drowns me.
He makes me feel seen.
“I’m here…”
It’s a weak reply from my dry throat. Lucky I could speak at all around the pounding of my heart blocking my airway.
He’s completely serious, and locked on me like a missile guidance system, observing my every breath. “So nice to see you, pretty lady.”
Help!
That cashmere timbre is the final anchor, if I wasn’t drowning in him before, it pulls me under his spell.
I never had a thing for American Southern drawls. Not even McConaughey affected me. But this hits different.
I drag my eyes away before they bleed from his hotness. “You as well.”
Was that a lie?
I don’t understand how to feel about him. The voracity of my attraction to him shocks me.
I can’t really feel this level of magnetism. It’s impossible.
Maddening, truthfully. Feeling completely frustrated with myself, I chuff at him. “I really believe you’ve spent an entire day of your vacation thinking about me.”
Wow, girl. I am such an idiot.
“That sounded really bitchy.” I wince and give him an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry, you just make me feel…confused. Maybe it’s the leftover adrenaline from this morning. I haven't felt right since.”
A soft sound rumbles in his chest as the hard line of his mouth eases. “I’m glad you told me. Honesty is good. And it’s true, I was thinking about you as I drove over here.”
My hands tremble and I squeeze my purse so hard the sequins bite into my palms like tiny knives.
He looks down at my body. No leering. Just a quick glance. But his tone is thicker. “Not the only time I’ve thought about you since this morning. I’m glad you’re here. You look beautiful, by the way.”
I shiver as those words slide down through me. All of it.
Not that he has to speak to have the effect of a wrecking ball.
All he’d have to do is loosen that dark gray tie, unbutton his black dress shirt to expose that broad expanse of chest and women would fall into his bed.
Me included.
Christ on a cracker. What is wrong with me?
I teeter on my heels. Not that I’m particularly good at wearing them, but every little thing he utters registers on the Richter scale.
It sure rattled my windows.
Fighting for a normal breath, I realize my right hand has moved nervously to lay at the base of my throat. I’ve studied body language enough to know this is a move humans make when they feel threatened or unsure. But I couldn’t stop myself if I had to.
I blow out a little breath. “It’s been a weird day and I can’t seem to find my emotional center. I just hope you weren’t thinking about me because you had a headache from my purse cracking your skull.”
This pleases him. His lips curve.
I hold up my electric-blue sequin clutch. It’s the one sparkly thing I own. “See, I have the small purse tonight. Nothing hard inside this one.”
The rumble of humor in his chest makes my nipples tighten. A panicked thought hits me—any second they will be visible through the thin dress I’m wearing.
His grin deepens to the kind of cocky male smirk that does serious damage. “No cracks or dents in my head. But I have to ask what you had in there that felt like a fifty-pound kettlebell?”
I pinch my lip between my teeth. “It was a replacement part for the PTO—power take-off—on my tractor.”
His brows quirk up as he whistles. “Damn. That’s the last thing I expected you to say. And I know what a PTO is, by the way. I grew up around farm equipment. But honestly, I was thinking if it wasn’t a weight, maybe it was more like a Colt 45 with a scope.”
I shiver. “Oh no. Not in my purse. I don’t like guns. I have them at home because of wild animals and snakes, but I don’t walk around with one. Which reminds me, do you always carry when you’re on vacation?”
He glances away and straightens his suit coat. “Depends.”
Weird answer.
The shift in his playful mood is abrupt. Now he looks tough. Deadly, even.
More questions spin through my head. Including self recrimination. I hate that I find him even sexier looking that way.
Nerves fluttering, I realize I’m about to turn into that girl—the one that talks because she’s about to rip open at the seams. I clear my throat. “Well, thanks again for trying to step in during the robbery.”
He shifts, rubs at the back of his neck, causing the fabric of his shirt and jacket to pull tight. “I would like to have stopped them.”
“You tried. That’s more than I can say for anyone else.”
I have to force my eyes up so I don’t drool. He looks so fine in a suit. The way his shirt hugs his narrow waist is impossible to ignore.
My lips twitch. I can hear my best friend from college, Mellie, replying to that thought. Girl, that is not fine. That is god-like.
There are a lot of muscles under that perfectly fitted sleek black suit and onyx black shirt. I felt every single one of them when I slammed into him. And when he ran into me.
Well, not every single one of his muscles. I bet he’s got…
Oh. My god.
I can’t believe I just tried to picture his cock.
Maybe I’m the one that took the anvil to the head.
Face heating like I’m an egg on hot pavement, I make a failing attempt to clear my throat. “I owe you an apology for this morning.”
Croak. Croak. I sound like a frog in heat.
He straightens, tugging his shirt cuffs down, and steps closer. Now we’re inches apart.
“No apology needed. I’m just glad you weren’t injured in the robbery.”
My heart speeds as his clean, warm scent wraps around me, The tropical evening breeze is blowing right this way, carrying his pheromones. A one way road right to my brain.
I draw a shaky breath. I can feel my pulse everywhere. As in EVERYWHERE.
I can’t put together a rational thought when my clit is throbbing like a drumbeat. So I look anywhere but at him for an agonizing moment.
Somehow, I manage to reply, “They never hurt anyone.”
When his head tilts, his focus sharpens. Dark gray irises turn to the color of night sky. “This happens a lot?”
“Every few months. I was away at college for a while and since I got back, I hardly ever come to town. Fortunately, I’ve managed to avoid the problem until this morning. It’s just something that people here put up with.”
This displeases him.
But that’s not what I find most interesting. I like watching his eyes. The way they go hard and stone-still, but also have this energy behind them.
When he thinks, the color deepens.
Is that really possible?
Always being the curious type, I want to test this theory to find out.
He speaks, jolting me back from my musings. “Well, now I know that you’ve just gotten back from college, and that you don’t like guns, and you have a tractor, but I’ve yet to learn your name.”
His extended hand makes the little hairs on my arms stand at attention. Praying my hand isn’t as wet as my panties probably are, I extend my palm. “I’m Marianna.”
He holds my gaze as his hand presses against mine.The size difference is crazy. His fingers completely engulf me all the way up to my wrist.
“I knew you’d have a beautiful name. How could you not, as pretty as you are.” He lets his gaze drift over my face, stopping when our gazes are locked. “Call me Walt.”
I blink very slowly, paralyzed from my eyeballs down. I can’t think or breathe with him touching me.
He runs hot. And electric.
Run, girl, run.
Instead of taking off like my tail is on fire, I stammer, “N-Nice to meet you in a more conventional way. I promise not to hit you with a tractor part again.”
“I like this much better.” A sexy, earth-tilting smile softens his eyes, pulling me in even more.
Then over Walt’s shoulder, I see my worst nightmare walking my way.
A grating male voice rises above the music. “There you are! I see you’ve met Mr. Goodlove.”
Great. What a way to ruin a moment.