Caught Up in the Touch (17 page)

The tap of Jessica’s heels had the old woman looking up and over the rim of her bejeweled glasses. The sun caught on the metal frames, flashing blues and greens around the woman’s colorful bottle-red hair. Her smile wrinkled cheeks that were otherwise smooth and milky white. Unlike her carefully preserved face, age spots covered the back of her hands, and her knotty knuckles were in juxtaposition with the delicate rings on her fingers.

“Hello there, Jessica. Where’s my niece?”

“At home working on her budget.”

“You’re welcome to check out some more books. I’ll put them on Lilliana’s card.”

Not anxious to leave the cool building, she browsed through the nonfiction section, picking up a biography of Alan Greenspan. Then, she wandered toward the paperbacks.

A book cover with a man wearing nothing but a kilt caught her attention. His chest was waxed and abnormally muscled. She glanced to either side of her before picking it up, embarrassed by how appealing she found it. It made her think of
Braveheart
but with better hygiene. Was this how male teenagers felt looking at porn magazines?

“That’s a good one, but this one is even better.” The voice made her jump and drop the sexy Highlander. Darcy Dalton stood at her elbow holding out a different book with a woman in a jewel-toned floor-length gown.

Jessica retrieved the dropped book and tucked it against the hardback in her arms, the nearly naked Highlander chest to chest with a beaming Alan Greenspan. Darcy held the new one out with a smile and waggling eyebrows. Just like Logan. Jessica’s shoulders unwound. “I didn’t think you’d read this kind of stuff.”

“Why on earth wouldn’t I? They’re awesome. I spent my summers at the library with Ada. Now she loved a good romance too, but she would have tanned my backside if she’d known I was filching steamy romances at age ten.”

“I’ve never read one,” Jessica said.

“In that case…” Darcy pulled out books until Jessica balanced half a dozen bare-chested men and bosomy women in her arms.

Jessica muffled her laughter after hearing it echo off the marble. “This is plenty, thanks.”

“Miss Esmeralda is our romance curator. She’s read more than I have. Lately, I feel like I’m living a romance novel.” A soft smile curled Darcy’s lips and softened her face. A green ribbon of emotion tightened Jessica’s chest, but Darcy cut through to Jessica’s heart with her gaze. “Logan is a good man. One of best, in my somewhat biased opinion.”

“Yes. He’s been—” A flash of Logan pressing her against the wall sprang into her head, muddling her thoughts. “He cooked me dinner.”

Darcy hummed. “He’s cooked dinner for lots of women, but he’s never taken one up into the woods with him.”

“Wait,
what?
How many women?”

“None that’s lasted. He likes to keep things casual, so no one gets hurt. My cuz is all about keeping it light.” Darcy straightened the spines of the books on the shelf, but she side-eyed Jessica.

How many women were ‘lots’? Was she one in a long line? Did it matter? Wasn’t she destined to leave him behind? Her logic laid out the questions while her heart stomped in womanly outrage.

Darcy stared as if waiting for answers to questions she hadn’t actually voiced.

“I need to go.” Jessica did an about-face and walked out of the library without checking out any of the books in her arms.

Casual and light? Is that what they were doing? One actual date and a make-out session. She’d been the one practically begging for it against the side of the house. He owed her nothing, especially not empty promises. She took long strides to her car. She had absolutely nothing to be mad about.

She was mad.

Two men, dressed in identical khaki pants, navy blue polos, and ball caps approached in the opposite direction. One blond, the other dark-haired. Dalt and Logan.

Logan’s smile and the appreciative, knowing slide of his gaze up and down her body only made the pull between her logic and her emotions worse.

*   *   *

With effort, Logan unstuck his eyes from the length of leg highlighted by the white shorts and ridiculous heels. Who wore shorts and high heels? His gaze eventually reached her face.

“You.” She bit out the word as if she’d caught him jacking off in a movie theater.

“What?” His stomach did a weird flippy thing.

“Am I one in a long line of women you’ve wooed with your culinary skills? That’s what Darcy said.”

Robbie Dalton muttered something and looked at the treetops. “I’ll just be…” He cleared his throat and walked off.

Logan watched Dalt leave with something akin to fear. Logan backed into a small alley between brick buildings, wide enough for foot traffic but not cars. She followed, juggling an armful of books and a pissy attitude. Why would Jessica be pissed, unless she was also a little jealous? Warmth cascaded through his body. What did it signify?

“I won’t be made a fool of, Logan Wilde.”

“I’m not looking to make a fool of you. I enjoy your company, thought you enjoyed mine.”

“I do, but…” Her gaze scooted to the moss-covered bricks at their side, and she readjusted the books in her arms. “I don’t want you toying with me.”

“How so?” He tried to brush a lock of auburn hair off her forehead, but she jerked her head to the side.

“I don’t want to”—she took a quick glance over her shoulder toward the street and dropped her voice to a whisper—“
hang out
with you and then see you schmoozing with someone else. I guess I’m old-fashioned like that.”

“So you don’t want me schmoozing other women while we’re … hanging out?” He bracketed the last two words with his fingers.

“Do you want to schmooze someone else?” She clutched the books to her chest. Vulnerability shone from her eyes. The question was like taking the safety off a gun.

“I’m not interested in schmoozing anyone else.” He wasn’t a hundred percent certain what he was agreeing to, but her entire body relaxed with his answer, her shoulders dropping and her hip popping out. “For as long as you’re here,” he added.

Tension filtered back into her body. “Since yours is the only job offer I’ve received, I guess I’ll stay until I find something else.”

No doubt, she could have a job at a Fortune 500 company with a single phone call. “I’ll be glad to keep you on as long as you need.” Insinuation lowered his voice, and he herded her back against the wall. How did they seem to always end up in this position?

He dropped his face next to hers, his cheek almost skimming hers, waiting for her move. She shifted, nuzzling him with her nose. He closed his eyes and breathed her in. Citrusy, sweet, intoxicating. “So we’re hanging out now, are we?”

“When we’re at Adaline’s things have to stay strictly business.” Her words fell between them, vague and breathless. Her head rolled to the side. Her scent drew him closer, and he dropped his lips to where her hair curled around her ear.

“We’re not at Adaline’s,” he whispered before tugging her earlobe between his teeth. Her quick inhalation was like pouring lighter fluid on the fire he’d kept banked all night. Again, he fought the urge to take her against a wall where anyone could hear her raw moans.

She dug her fingers into his biceps. Books bounced off his feet, cracking the spell she’d cast on him. He pushed off the wall until they were nose to nose.

Chatter from passersby on the street penetrated the sexual tension cocooning them. She came to her senses first, pushing him back and dropping into a squat to gather the books. He grabbed up one at his feet. A romance novel. He didn’t voice his surprise. In fact, he’d come to expect twists and turns the more he learned about her.

He plucked two more books out of her arms. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Don’t you have a big game tonight?” They fell into step on the sidewalk.

“Dalt and I were headed to The Diner. Won’t have a chance to eat again until after the game. Are you coming tonight?”

She opened the passenger door of her Audi and tossed the books onto the seat. Her car was fixed, yet she hadn’t pointed it straight out of town. “I’ll be there. I don’t know much about football, but I did buy a shirt to support the team. What do you think?”

He was jealous of the falcon spread taut over her spectacular breasts. He had to clear his dry throat to get words out. “You look great.”

A blush bloomed, and she tucked the same piece of hair behind her ear several times, but a smile curved her lips and she glanced at him though her lashes like a practiced flirt. Once she understood that she was the sexiest, most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen, he would be toast. Not that he planned to spew such insanity aloud. He needed to maintain some amount of control and distance. She was worried about him toying with her? Well, he was worried she planned to annihilate him.

A whistle cut from across the street. He nudged his head. “Dalt’s waiting. I’d best be getting on. Come around to the pavilion after the game if you want. I’ll give you a lift home.”

“Maybe.”

Keeping his gaze on her, he jogged backward until she got into her Audi and drove off. He crossed the street to his best friend.

Laughter crinkled Dalt’s eyes. “Are your nuts intact?”

“Barely. I might strangle your wife.”

“She was trying to protect you.” He held up both hands. “Her words, not mine.”

They entered The Diner and flagged down a waitress to put in a to-go order of BLTs. Well-wishers and advice-givers mobbed them. Once back out on the street, Logan picked up the thread of their conversation. “Jessie and I have agreed we are ‘hanging out’ and I won’t ‘schmooze’ other women.” He air quoted twice and then added, “Whatever the hell that means.”

Rare laughter rumbled out of Dalt. “I think you agreed to date exclusively. Are you sleeping with her?”

“No.”

“But you want to.”

“Jesus, of course I do. She’s freaking gorgeous, and everything is in working order.” His voice rose with his incredulity.

Dalt hummed, the sound full of speculation.

“I hate it when you do that. What?”

“Why haven’t you put the moves on her?”

“Who says I haven’t?”

Dalt sent him an answering incredulous look. “I’ve seen you in action, and I’ve never seen a woman resist your moves.”

Logan heaved a sigh. They entered the football pavilion. Everything was quiet; expectation vibrated in the air. It was the lull between the end of the school day but before the players poured into the locker room for the team meeting. Dalt led the way into his office, taking the chair behind the desk. Logan cleared off a stack of graded calculus homework, plopped his sack down, and pulled up a chair.

“It’s complicated. Last night, we had dinner without the Montgomery job offer murking the waters. Then, I go and offer her a job at Adaline’s until she finds something better. And, today we agreed to hang out until she finds some
one
better.” Usually BLTs were Logan’s favorite, but the first bite was tasteless and unsatisfying.

“You think she’ll go looking for something better?”

“Why wouldn’t she? But I hope she sticks around long enough for me to get her out of my system.”

“If all you wanted was to get her out of your system, you would have bagged her already.” Dalt took a bite of his sandwich and studied him.

The two of them had survived two tours in Afghanistan together. Robbie Dalton was trustworthy and solid, and Logan had been ecstatic when Darcy had set her sights on him two years ago.

But the man’s silences could be torturous. Logan ran a hand down his face. “She’s different. Tough as nails, yet underneath there’s something that makes me want to handle her gently, protect her.” Logan shrugged. It was as close an explanation as he could get without shining a light on his own vulnerability.

“How does she make you feel?” Dalt asked between bites.

“Are we seriously going to talk about my fucking
feelings
before our first game?”

“There’s more to life than football.” Dalt popped the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth.

The cacophony of male teenage voices echoing down the concrete hallways saved him. “Right now, football is all I want to think about. Let’s do this.”

The next hours passed in a blink. Being in front of the hometown crowd fired a nervous energy in the boys that had to be harnessed. If not, mistakes would be made and the game lost. Logan huddled with the wide receivers and lectured them about ball security. He pulled out a whiteboard and went over plays the boys should know by heart but could be easily forgotten in the heat of battle. The reiteration seemed to settle their nerves.

Dalt clapped his clipboard against a metal beam and whistled. The team formed a semicircle around him. Logan stepped back and leaned against the door. Heated whispers drew him into the hallway. Scott and Hunter argued a few feet down the hall. Although it wasn’t a physical confrontation, animosity throbbed.

“You boys get your butts in here unless you want to run extra laps on Monday.” Logan’s voice carried down the empty corridor.

Both boys turned toward him. Scott looked ready to rip someone’s head off, while Hunter’s face reflected relief, and he was the first one to slip in the door. “Sorry, Coach Wilde,” he mumbled on his way to stand next to Alec Grayson.

Anger stiffened Scott’s gait. The boy had set a bench-press record that week, but worry and suspicion, not pride, beat at Logan.

He grabbed Scott’s shoulder pads and tugged him to a stop. “This is the second time I’ve caught you and Hunter in a set-to. Talk to me.”

Certainly, emotions ran high before a game, but the dynamic energy vibrating Scott’s body seemed darker. “Girl trouble.”

He shrugged Logan’s hand off and stood with the defensive line, shifting on his feet like a boxer before a bout. Maybe it was girl, maybe it wasn’t.

Dalt led the team out for warm-ups. The stadium lights lit the night like a beacon. The buzz of the crowd hummed over the staticky music on the loudspeakers. The first home football game of the season always took on a festival-like quality. And the fact the team had made the playoffs the last two years only added to the excitement.