Hot Pursuit (6 page)

“Forget it,” she said with a conviction she
didn’t quite feel. “As I recall, the last time didn’t turn out so
well for me.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

“You said that earlier.”

“I did.”

She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “So
why’d you come then? I heard you the first time.”

He sighed. “Evie. Jesus.” He raked a hand
through his hair, and her blood hummed at the ripple and flex of
muscle. “I just got back from the desert. Life out there is…
unpredictable. It makes a man think. And I’ve decided that I don’t
like feeling like a shithead for something that happened ten years
ago. I want to clear the slate.”

Evie let out a breath. She’d been so hurt;
then she’d been angry. But it was a long time ago and she couldn’t
hold a grudge forever. Even now, she recognized that most of her
feelings about the incident were still tied up with having her love
so cruelly flung back in her face. The other stuff, while
definitely unpleasant at the time, hardly mattered anymore.

“We were kids, Matt.”

“I hurt you.”

She didn’t flinch from his gaze. “You did.
But I’m not sixteen anymore. And like I said today, it was my fault
too. I asked you to do it. And I told a couple of my friends about
it, so it wasn’t just you telling the boys.” She shrugged with a
lightness she didn’t quite feel. “What happened was probably
inevitable. The guys thought I was easy. The girls who were jealous
said I was a slut. They made my senior year difficult in some ways.
But what hurt the most was never hearing from you again.”

There, she’d said it. She’d told him what
really hurt, and she’d given him a window into her feelings back
then. He’d have to be an idiot not to know, but it was always
possible he hadn’t.

“I should have called you.”

The music changed, the beat slowing. Evie
took a step backward instinctively, but Matt caught her hand and
held it tight. She tugged once, then stopped. They faced each other
across a few feet of space. Around them, couples began to slide
together, fitting into each other.

Evie’s pulse beat harder. Her skin sizzled
where they touched, his big hand engulfing hers, his palm calloused
in a way that shocked her. He was a Girard—rich, entitled—and he
had a workman’s hands.

“One dance.”

Her insides melted a little more. “I’m not
sure it’s a good idea.”

But what she really wanted to do was say
yes.

His eyes were bright. “Why not? We’re adults
now, Evie. No one’s getting hurt here.”

He said it like it was so easy, but was it
really? Wasn’t she still vulnerable on some level? She was down on
her luck right now, feeling like a loser, and here he was, the same
gorgeous, cocky, beautiful creature he’d always been.

Except, no, he was more than that, wasn’t he?
There was something behind his smile now. Something dark and sad.
Pain flared in his gray eyes and then was gone so quickly she
wondered if she’d imagined it.

It shocked her. She suddenly wanted to know
what had happened to him. She’d heard about him being held captive
by terrorists. How could he not be affected by something like that?
Of all the things she’d expected Matt Girard to do with his life,
putting himself into danger had not even occurred to her. He had
everything. Why would he want to risk his life that way?

She remembered when his mother had died. He’d
been twelve. Mama had taken her to the wake out at Reynier’s
Retreat. There were so many people crowding the beautiful rooms of
the mansion. The house was heavy with sadness and thick with grief,
and it had scared her. She’d escaped to run down the wide lawn.
She’d known where to find Matt. He’d been curled inside the hollow
of a tree they’d found a few years before.

He’d been dressed in a black suit, his dark
hair slicked back carefully, his gray eyes wide and wounded as he
looked up at her. Her heart had lifted into her throat then. She’d
only been eleven, but she’d felt something in that moment that
rocked her world—and would continue to rock her world until she was
sixteen and shattered by his casual cruelty.

But not that day. That day, she’d slid into
the hollow and sat down beside him. When she’d put her arms around
him, he’d turned his face into the crook of her neck and wept.

Evie sucked in a breath. How could she walk
away from him now, knowing there was something behind those eyes?
He was hurting again, and she didn’t know why.

“One dance, Evangeline,” he said softly when
she hesitated. “Make a soldier’s night. I just got back from the
desert a few days ago. I’d like to dance with a pretty woman and
forget about that hellhole for a while.”

Evie swallowed. “That’s not fair.”

He grinned. “Because you can’t say no
now?”

She nodded.

“Good for me then.”

“Just one dance and we go our separate ways,
got it?” Because she didn’t want to feel this tangle of emotions
again. This tiny blossoming in her heart that said she was going to
be in so much trouble if she didn’t shut it down quickly.

“If that’s what you want.” His voice was
rough.

He took her other hand then, ran his palms up
her arms to her shoulders. Little sparks of sensation swirled in
her belly, lighting her up like the Fourth of July. He pulled her
into his arms right there on the edge of the dance floor.

Evie braced her hands against his chest,
pressed back when he tried to bring her closer. It was already
overwhelming to be so close to him. To feel his heat and hardness
next to her body.

To feel everything she’d once wanted so
much.

“I don’t bite,” he murmured. “Unless you want
me to.”

“Hardly.” But heat flowed through her at the
thought. Evie closed her eyes. This was insane. Why had she agreed?
It was like she’d stepped back in time and gotten caught in all her
girlish dreams.

She was in Matt Girard’s arms, dancing with
him in public. Poor Evie Baker and the rich senator’s son. The boy
most likely to succeed and the girl who would never amount to
anything. What a pair.

She should have refused, no matter how much
she ached for him. No matter how much history flowed between
them.

But he’d trotted out that returning soldier
line and she’d caved like a fallen soufflé.

She should walk away right now, but she
couldn’t seem to make herself do so. Instead, she tried to keep
distance between them, stood stiffly in his embrace with her hands
on his shoulders until he grasped her arms and twined them around
his neck. “At least look like you’re having fun.”

“What if I’m not?”

He laughed. “Pretend.”

They swayed to the music without talking. His
body was so hard, like he’d been carved from marble. He was lean
and lethal, a finely honed military machine. From the hard contours
of his shoulders to the flat planes of his abdomen, there wasn’t an
ounce of softness anywhere on him.

His hands were in the small of her back,
caressing her as they moved. She became acutely aware of her
breasts pressing against his chest. When she tilted her head back
to look up at him, his eyes were intense. She turned away even as a
thrill shot through her.

“I’ve missed you, Evie. I didn’t realize how
much until I saw you today.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying.”

A bead of sweat trickled between her breasts
and her skin grew hot. She’d forgotten how steamy Louisiana nights
could be. Why did these morons still party at the lake? They
weren’t teenagers anymore, and they had houses.

“We haven’t spoken in ten years. I hardly
think you missed me that much.”

Matt’s hands slid across her back, leaving a
trail of flame in their wake. “I said I didn’t realize it until
today. That’s the truth. You were always honest with me, Evie. I
liked that. Needed it.”

Evie snorted, more to cover the riot of
sensations inside her than anything. “You couldn’t have liked it
that much. You used to sit on me until I cried uncle.”

Matt laughed. “Yeah, you really knew how to
piss me off back then. But you were my best friend when we were
little.”

“Until you left private school and started
going to Rochambeau Junior High. Then I was persona non grata.”

“Hardly. But you were a girl, and I needed to
get in good with the guys.”

“And the other girls.”

He gave her that pretty grin of his. “Yeah,
that too.”

As if he’d ever had an ounce of trouble in
that department. She remembered his first day in public school, how
thrilled she’d been to have him there where they could hang out
together—and how jealous she’d been when he’d started paying
attention to other girls.

“We go back a long ways, don’t we?” Her arms
around his neck relaxed a little, until it felt almost natural to
be dancing with him like this.

“Yeah. It’s kinda nice, isn’t it?”

Her body was singing and zinging with sparks.
“It is, in a way. In other ways, it’s not so great.”

He looked puzzled. “How do you mean?”

Evie sighed. “Geez, Matt, you aren’t that
clueless. It was fun while we were kids. I adored you—and then it
changed as I got older and realized what boys were for. But it
didn’t change for you, and that set me up for a lot of angsty
nights discussing you endlessly with my friends.”

“You discussed me?” He looked puzzled and she
wanted to pinch him. Men.

“Of course. It’s what girls do. We like a boy
and we obsess about it. About what he said, what he did, how he
looked at us. Does he like us or not? Things like that. I wanted
you to like me as a girl, not as a buddy. And you never did.”

“I did.” Her heart did a little skip that it
shouldn’t have so long after the fact. “But I tried not to. I
didn’t want to mess up what we had.”

“We didn’t have anything by then. You’d been
ignoring me since I got breasts.”

His gaze dropped to her chest and she
automatically stuck a finger under his chin and tilted his head up
again.

His grin was not in the least apologetic.
“Hey, you mentioned them. They are magnificent, by the way.”

She refused to feel an ounce of pleasure over
that comment. “I did indeed, but that wasn’t an invitation to ogle.
Focus on my eyes, Girard.”

“Such pretty eyes. So blue they’re almost
purple.”

Evie rolled said eyes. “Flattery? After all
this time? Care to tell me what’s up?”

His expression changed, growing quietly
serious. “I wish I could.” He gave his head a little shake. “I’ve
seen a lot of bad shit in this world, Evie. You’re soft and sweet
and you smell good.”

There was a lump in her throat. “It’s just
perfume. You should smell me when I’ve been picking crabmeat out of
shells all day. Or after a long shift on the line, standing over a
hot grill—”

“Evangeline.”

Evie blinked up at him. “What?”

“You gave me one dance. Do we have to talk
about crabmeat and grills?”

Heat slid into her cheeks. “No, I suppose
not.”

He slid his hands to her hips and pulled her
tighter against him until she wanted to whimper. “Good. Because I
want to remember this the next time I’m on an op.”

Evie dropped her gaze from the heated
intensity of his. They moved together silently for a few moments.
And then she spoke. “I heard you got shot. Did you really?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes flew up again and her heart pounded.
“Where?”

“A flesh wound in the side, nothing life
threatening. Hurt like hell though.”

She shook her head. “I can’t understand how
you ended up in the military. It’s not what I thought you’d
do.”

His eyes glittered. “And I always knew you’d
do something with cooking.”

She didn’t miss that he’d deflected her
comment, but she smiled anyway. “How could you know that? It wasn’t
like I ever cooked a meal for you when we were swinging from trees
or sneaking up on Christina with crawdads.”

“No, but you talked about food a lot. About
the texture of cupcakes, the correct sweet-to-tart ratio of
lemonade, and the heat index of your mama’s jambalaya. And then you
went to work out at Charlie’s that summer before my senior year. I
brought Jeanine Jackson on a date there, remember?”

Evie had to stifle a groan. “God, how could I
forget? I dumped a pitcher of sweet tea down her shirt. But that
had nothing to do with cooking.”

Matt laughed. “No, it sure didn’t. What did
she say to you again?”

“I think
you bitch
is about right. Or
some variation of that phrase.”

“No, I mean before that. Before you ‘tripped’
and lost control of the tea.”

Evie sighed. “She gave me a dirty look and
told me not to talk to her boyfriend if I wasn’t taking his
order.”

“Was that it?” His brows drew down as if he
were thinking back. “I thought for sure it must have been something
worse.”

“I didn’t like her tone.”

Matt snickered. “Sounds about right. You
never did back down from a fight.”

The song ended then and Evie took a step
backward. Matt’s grip on her tightened, but then he let her go, his
hands dropping to his sides. Evie swallowed. “Thanks for the dance.
It was nice.”

His gaze was so intense she wanted to look
away, but she didn’t. “It doesn’t have to end here. I’m home for a
few days. I want to see you again, Evie.”

Her heart ricocheted around her chest. “I
don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He shook his head. “You keep saying that to
me,
chère
, but your eyes say something different.”

She clasped her hands together and took a
deep breath. “I’ve always been weak where you’re concerned. But too
much time has passed and there’s too much drama when you’re
involved. I’ve got enough going on in my life without adding you to
the mix.”

His expression sharpened. “Are you seeing
someone?”

She wished she could say yes, wished it were
true just long enough to make him go away. And she didn’t, because
she didn’t want him to go away.