Chapter 2
Banter As Foreplay
“Have you ever tied a woman to your bed?” Charlie asks casually.
I nearly choke on my beer, gaping at her. “You need a goddamn filter.”
It’s a good thing we’re the only ones left at the table.
“Oh, please,” she scoffs, waving me off. “Don’t act like the thought has never crossed your mind. It’s always the broody, serious types who have secret sex dungeons complete with a wall of whips and chains.”
“I prefer my hand and a paddle,” I deadpan, drinking in the sight of her.
“Careful, Heath,” Charlie warns, taking a sip of her vodka soda. “Keep looking at me like that, and I might start thinking you want to use that paddle of yours on me.”
Jesus Christ.
If she wasn’t on her second drink, I’d think she was tipsy. But no, this is just Charlie being Charlie, and she’s making it extremely challenging to keep my hands to myself.
Her continuous glucose monitor, or CGM for short, hasn’t even buzzed with an alert tonight.
I relax a little, figuring she’s already accounted for the alcohol like she usually does with her diabetes.
Regardless, I can’t exactly bring it up, or she’ll wonder why I’m so concerned with her well-being.
What would I tell her? That I’ve wanted her for a long time and the idea of anything happening to her makes my heart hammer against my ribs?
My obsession started the night of her twenty-first birthday at the local saloon. She climbed barefoot onto the bar, belting out “Jolene” into an empty beer bottle, her green eyes lit with a wild kind of joy as she danced like she owned the whole damn room.
The problem?
I was a thirty-year-old man pining after my sister’s friend who was far too young for me. Hell, she still is. That hasn’t stopped me from wanting her, leading to this moment when resisting her any longer feels like a losing fight.
I lean back in my chair, resting my beer on my thigh. “Hasn’t anyone told you it’s dangerous to make assumptions, hellcat?”
Charlie scoots her chair closer to mine. “I rather like living on the edge. Besides, you’re obligated to be in a good mood. Your brother just got married.”
“I couldn’t be happier for Walker and Birdie,” I say.
I mean it. Walker found his perfect match, and after everything Birdie’s been through, I’m glad she has him.
Charlie raises a brow. “If that’s true, what’s with the scowl? It’s a wedding, not a funeral.”
“I’m still recovering from you digging your nails into my arms during our walk down the aisle,” I grumble, taking a long pull from my beer. “I’m surprised you didn’t leave puncture wounds.”
She rolls her eyes. “How else was I supposed to get your attention when you started speedwalking like you couldn’t get it over with fast enough?
It’s not my fault your timing is terrible, even after we practiced five times at the rehearsal.
” She holds up her hand, spreading all five fingers for emphasis.
It was essential I get it over with as quickly as possible, but not for the reasons she probably assumed. It was a challenge to concentrate with her hand tucked in the crook of my arm, and I was barely able to fight the urge to stop in the middle of the aisle and kiss her like I wanted to.
I couldn’t risk people peppering me with questions about why I seemed smitten with the woman I’ve gone to great lengths to keep at a distance.
And who, on the surface, it appears I don’t get along with.
No one would believe me if I explained that the reason I’m short with her is because I want her so badly it’s making me lose my damn mind.
“Ever heard of using your words?” I ask Charlie, my fingers idly peeling at the label on my beer bottle. “They’re shockingly more effective than a one-sided staring contest in front of a crowd. Now why don’t you go find someone else to torment?”
If Walker had any sense of loyalty, he would’ve made sure Charlie and I weren’t paired together today.
But with his twisted sense of humor and how much he enjoys watching me squirm, I’m not surprised he didn’t intervene.
Then again, it’s not like he and Birdie had much of a choice.
The only other bridesmaid and groomsman were my sister, Briar, and her fiancé, Jensen.
Besides, even if Walker had known how I felt about Charlie, it wouldn’t have changed a thing. He still would have made sure we were paired and probably would have talked Birdie into more wedding party activities that would force Charlie and me together.
Her eyes spark with mischief. “Don’t think I missed overhearing you promise Walker you’d be civil tonight. Too bad for you, I didn’t make the same promise.” I bite back a growl as she boops my nose like a petulant child.
“I swear to god you’re asking for trouble, woman,” I say, my voice dropping low.
I tamp down the urge to take her over my knee and redden her ass until she’s moaning my name.
She trails a manicured red nail along my collar. “Is that a threat or an invitation?” A wicked smirk crosses her lips. “Don’t think I didn’t catch you staring at my ass earlier. Can’t say I blame you. I do look damn good in this dress.”
Christ, I wish she was wrong.
Against my better judgment, my gaze drifts to the emerald slip dress clinging to her like a second skin, accentuating every curve.
Her scarlet hair spills over her shoulders, a striking contrast against the green fabric.
She’s dangerously beautiful, a siren who knows exactly the effect she has on me, no matter how hard I try to appear indifferent.
In most situations, I’m calm and collected.
But Charlie has a way of pushing every single one of my buttons.
The problem is, the second her mouth tilts into that signature smirk, I forget that our default setting is to rile each other up and that she’s supposed to be off-limits.
I definitely shouldn’t be thinking about how those pouty lips would taste or how good they’d look stretched around my cock while I fuck that smart mouth.
“For someone who’s supposedly irritated by my presence, you sure stare a lot,” she says, running her finger up my throat and tipping my chin upward. “I was right. It’s the dress, isn’t it?”
I force my eyes back to her face. “I don’t think you could handle my brand of attention.”
Her smirk deepens. “Wow. Emotionally unavailable and pretending you’re too much for me. Adorable.” She shifts closer, the sweet scent of her coconut shampoo flooding my senses. “Why don’t you stop dodging the truth and admit it already?”
“Admit what?”
“That you want me,” she purrs.
Fuck, this woman is going to wreck my self-control.
My grip on the beer bottle tightens as I force a neutral expression. “Believe me, if I were interested, you’d know.”
Charlie bats her lashes. “How so?”
I glance around to make sure no one is within earshot.
Only a few stragglers remain, clustered next to the dessert table on the far side of the backyard.
Most of the guests left after Walker and Birdie went back to their place, and at some point while I was talking with Charlie, my parents must have gone to bed.
This is where I should excuse myself and head inside. Yet, against my better judgment, I stay seated.
I finish my beer in one long pull and set the bottle on the table before shifting closer to Charlie, my voice dropping to a whisper. “I’d pin you up against the barn with my tongue down your throat, and you’d be begging me to carry you to my loft and fuck you until you couldn’t walk straight.”
A flush rises to her cheeks, her eyes growing wide. If only she knew how often I’ve imagined the same scene. Except in my fantasy, we never make it to the loft. I have her bent over the nearest hay bale, my cock buried deep inside her while she cries out my name.
“If you’re so unaffected”—she leans in closer, her breath warm against my cheek—“then why are you touching me?”
I glance down, only now realizing my hand is resting on her leg, fingers spread across her skin. It’s dangerously warm and soft, and my grip tightens, sending an unwelcome jolt of desire straight to my cock.
“It’s a temporary lapse in judgment,” I mutter defensively. “Don’t read into it.”
She tilts her head, studying me.
Charlie can sniff out vulnerability from a mile away, and if she even suspects she’s gotten under my skin, she’ll never let me hear the end of it.
I’m not about to give her that kind of leverage.
Not when I’m unsure whether she’s toying with me or if she’s just as turned on by this intoxicating push and pull as I am.
“Interesting,” she says, her eyes flicking down, “considering your hand is still on my thigh.”
“Shit,” I hiss, yanking my hand away.
She lets out a melodic laugh as she takes another sip of her vodka soda. “Listen, Heath, it’s no secret you’re not exactly my favorite person.” Ouch. “Doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun tonight. God knows everyone else is getting laid. Why not us?”
Holy fucking hell.
All these years of keeping my distance are now hanging by a thread. I’m convinced she must be a witch sent here specifically to test every ounce of my self-control.
“You don’t want to fuck me, sweetheart. I’m the moody prick you can’t stand, and I’m too old for you.” Not to mention, I’m her best friend’s brother.
All reasons she should remain strictly off-limits.
Charlie sets her glass down and rises from her seat. I watch with bated breath as she slinks over and lowers herself onto my lap. My hands instinctively grip her hips as she settles against me, her ass pressing against my growing erection.
“What the hell are you doing?” My voice comes out hoarse.
She flashes me a grin as she winds an arm around my neck.
“I’ve always had a weakness for hot ranchers and older men.
Why not get a two-for-one deal with you?
” I swear the world tilts when she takes my cowboy hat and puts it on her head.
“Don’t worry, I’m not looking for anything serious like a marriage proposal.
Just a casual hookup with no strings to take the edge off. ”
“Like a one-night stand?”
She grins. “Bingo.”
It’s reckless to consider spending a night with Charlie. I already want her far more than I should, and we’ve never even kissed. If I allow myself to touch her even once, there’s a good chance I may never recover.
Still, the idea of getting a taste of her takes root anyway. Whether it’s the four beers I’ve had or watching my brother finally marry the woman he’s pined after for years, every line I’ve drawn where she’s considered is starting to blur.
Charlie slowly runs her fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck. “So what’s it going to be? Should I call the taxi to take me home?”
Fuck, her boldness turns me on more than it should. I love that she’s confident enough in her desires to ask for what she wants without reservation. And if we cross this line tonight, there’s no question she’ll go right back to giving me hell tomorrow and pretending none of this ever happened.
I look around the yard again and notice we’re now the last guests still outside.
The cleanup crew has arrived and is starting to break down tables and chairs.
Since the wedding was held at the ranch, Ma and Birdie’s mom had rented most of the furniture and linens to make teardown easier.
Probably a good thing, too. Otherwise, my family would be out here asking why the hell Charlie’s in my lap when our default setting is constant bickering.
I turn back to look at Charlie. “Don’t call the taxi.”
“What exactly are you saying?”
I tug the brim of my hat lower on her head. “Spend the night with me.”
The corners of her mouth lift in amusement. “Heath Halstead, are you propositioning me for a one-night stand?”
I let out a low chuckle. “Yeah, hellcat. I am.”
“How presumptuous of you.” She downs the rest of her vodka soda and stands, holding out her hand. “Better bring your A-game, or I’ll have to spread a rumor that you have performance issues. Your fragile ego wouldn’t survive it.”
“Careful what you wish for. I don’t do half measures,” I growl.
The only way I’m justifying this is by telling myself it’s a one-and-done arrangement.
I’ll do my damnedest to get her out of my system and move on after it’s over.
Even as the thought crosses my mind, I know it’s bullshit.
I’ve spent years trying to stop wanting her, but once I get her in my bed, I already know one time won’t be enough.