Make Mine a Bad Boy (11 page)

She just refused to be the only one making a fool of herself.

“Only if you show me yours.”

Surprise flashed in his eyes before they steamed back up.

“Lead the way.”

Now that she was the main attraction, crazy things started popping into her head.
I wish I’d taken the time to shave this morning. Or trim. Or even fluff and spritz with some intoxicating perfume. I wish I owned intoxicating perfume. Something that would make up for the lack of hair sculpturing. Would a big bad biker prefer Brazilian or native? Or maybe somewhere in between—a wild Brazilian—

“I hate to hurry you, honey,” Colt’s voice interrupted her rambling thoughts. “But if you don’t show me something soon, what I have to show you might not be all that impressive.”

Her gaze flickered down to the bulge beneath soft damp denim, and she blushed. When she glanced back up,
a smart-aleck grin creased his face. Which annoyed her. She might not be an expert in the art of seduction, but she wasn’t a naïve schoolgirl anymore. If he wanted to play wicked, she could oblige him as well as any other woman.

Hooking her thumbs in the elastic of her panties, she slowly inched down the material, her fingers cupping her inner thighs and her thumbs forming a V around her moist—getting moister by the second—center. She kept her eyes on him, while he kept his eyes lowered, the heat of his gaze burning through his dark, thick lashes. She lifted her hips off the torn leather and slipped the satin down her thighs. The springs of the old seat squeaked, but not loud enough to cover Colt’s intake of breath.

She dropped her hips back to the seat, allowing the hem of the dress to fall over her lap as she struggled to get the panties over her cowboy boots. It wasn’t easy. And after getting one boot out, she gave up and left the scrap of satin dangling off the top of the other.

“Next time it might be easier, honey, if you just don’t wear panties.” Colt’s voice strummed across her.

“There won’t be a next time.”

His hot gaze lifted. “Then I guess we better make this good.” The
good
came out all sexy and sizzling as his eyes lowered to the spot between her legs.

But before she lifted her dress, she took a quick glance around. The rain had ended as quickly as it came, leaving behind sparkling rivers that trailed down the steamed-over windows. If she couldn’t see out, no one could see in. So she leaned back against the opposite door and slowly eased up the dress. The soft fabric brushed against the tops of her thighs, teasing the throbbing spot between her legs before coming to rest just above her hipbones.

Colt’s breath hissed through his teeth, and Hope glanced up. He hadn’t moved, but his body seemed tighter than before, his hands clenched in fists on the knees of his faded jeans.

“Spread them,” he said in a breathy groan.

Slowly, she separated her knees, settling one bent leg up on the seat and allowing the other to loll against the steering wheel. He didn’t touch her, but he didn’t need to. His gaze stroked over her most private parts like hot, skilled fingers as his breath grew more uneven. Her breathing followed his, and soon the air grew thick with restrained desire.

“Now you.” Her voice came out needy and desperate.

Without taking his eyes off her, he slid a hand to the button on his jeans and flipped it open. Tooth by brass tooth, the zipper eased down over the hard fist of denim to reveal black cotton stretched to the limits. With a few simple adjustments, he was released, and it was Hope’s turn to greedily eat him up with her eyes. His penis was smooth and hard with tiny veins pumping through it and a broad tip that held a trace of moisture. Her mouth went dry, and her heart did a funny little two-step.

“Nice,” she croaked.

“Thank you. You want to touch it?”

She glanced up expecting to see a cocky smile, but instead there was only serious heat. She swallowed and tried to remember why she wasn’t going to let things go any further than a little naughty fun. Of course, the day after was never fun. Especially when you had to confront the man you had naughty fun with.

Except she wouldn’t have to confront Colt.

He was leaving.

Tomorrow.

So basically all she had to do was hide out for one day. How hard could that be? Of course, sex was out of the question. But touching was well within the parameters of naughty without getting nasty. And with the way she was feeling, it wouldn’t take much naughty to send her right over the edge. Except about the time she leaned in to accept his offer, a cherub face pressed against the steamed-up, water-splashed glass.

“Kid!” she screamed as she drew her legs together and shoved down her dress.

“Now, honey,” Colt sat up and reached for her. “I’ve got that covered. I never play without a raincoat handy.”

“I’m not talking about me getting pregnant, you idiot!” She slapped at his hands. “I’m talking about a real kid!” She waved a finger at the window. “A kid who just saw my pieces!” She fumbled around for her panties, but when she shoved her other boot through the hole, the satin ripped clean in half.

Colt looked back at the window behind him. The kid was gone, but the face imprint was still there.

“Shit!”

While Hope stuffed her ruined panties in her boot, he readjusted. Although he had a hard time getting his zipper up.

“Damn it, I thought you told me nobody lived here!”

“That’s what Mama said. And they probably don’t.” She leaned up and wiped a circle in the steam. “It’s probably some kid from another trailer.”

“Well, why the hell isn’t he in school?”

“How would I know? Do I look like the principal?”

Once he had his jeans zipped and buttoned, it only
took a second for his temper to cool. And only another for him to chuckle.

“Well, I guess that’s what we get for being naughty.”

“Real funny.” Hope glared at him. “Now we have to figure out how to get out of here without him seeing us.”

The smile slipped. “Afraid to be caught with the Bad Boy of Bramble?”

She shot him a smug grin. “No more than you should be worried about being caught in a compromising position with a woman expecting twins.”

“Point taken.” He made his own circle in the steam. “Well, it looks like he’s gone now. No doubt scared by that hog-calling squeal of yours.”

“You are just a hoot a minute, Lomax.” She shoved open the door and cautiously stepped out.

The rain had completely stopped, although it still dripped from the overhanging branches of the elm. Shaking out her damp dress, Hope looked around, but all she saw were piles of dripping junk. She was about to tell Colt that the coast was clear, when a black dog came bounding through the hedge that separated the property from the lot next door, quickly followed by her twin sister.

“Hope?” Those sweet-as-blueberry-pie eyes blinked in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

She slammed the door in Colt’s face, just as Buster slapped his muddy paws on her chest and bathed her face in dog slobbers. She pushed him down, and, having been taught at an early age that the best defense was a good offense, she threw the question back. “What are you doing?”

Faith blinked. “I was trying to get Buster to come in out of the rain when I heard you yell.” She looked back at the car. “Is someone in there?”

“No.”

“But I think I see—”

“A little rain won’t hurt a dog,” Hope cut her off as she reached down and pushed Buster away from the door where he’d started to whine. “So quit fretting about Buster and get back inside before you catch your death.”

“But…”

“No ifs, ands, or buts.” She flapped her hands. “Go on with you. Mama would kill me if I let you get even a sniffle.”

Stubbornness obviously ran in the family because Faith didn’t move a muscle, except for the ones around those innocent eyes that she squinted at the car. But fortunately, after only a few seconds she gave up and looked back at Hope.

“I’m sorry about the baby thing.”

A simple
sorry
didn’t come close to making up for the last few days of hell Hope had had to endure. Between pregnancy advice and people fighting over shower dates, Hope was about ready to blow this town regardless of whether or not she had money or a plan. But since an angry tirade would only prolong the conversation, she had little choice than to accept.

“Apology accepted.” She tried to brush the mud off the front of her dress. “Well, you better get inside, and I better get going.”

“But what about Shirlene’s brother?”

Hope’s head came up, but she refused to look behind her. “What are you talking about? Everyone knows I wouldn’t be caught dead with Colt Lomax.”

Faith leaned closer and squinted even harder. “Are you sure? Because that looks exactly like the man I met
Saturday night, and the one I saw with you and Shirlene at the diner.”

Releasing her breath in one drawn-out sigh of frustration, Hope turned back to the car. Sure enough, the steam had evaporated enough to see Colt sitting there, as clear as day. He stared back at her with one dark eyebrow hiked up along with a corner of his sexy mouth. Wasn’t the man even smart enough to duck?

“Well, good mornin’,” he drawled as he stepped from the car and squatted down to scratch a wiggling Buster. “Nothin’ like a little rain shower to liven things up.”

Faith might be a little princess, but she was no dummy. Her gaze swept over Colt’s rain-soaked body, then back to Hope, then over to the car, and then back to Hope. And just that quickly, the sun rose in those wide blue eyes along with the biggest, most disgusting smile Hope had ever seen in her life.

“Well, good morning, yourself.” If people could pop from happiness, Faith was about to bust like an over-inflated balloon. “So what brings you here, Mr. Lomax?”

“Kindness and charity, Mrs. Calhoun,” Colt said with a smile almost as big. “I’m helping Hope deliver food boxes.”

Faith looked back at her. “How sweet.”

Hope’s desire to pick up the rusted crowbar at her feet and use it to wipe off both white-toothed smiles was almost too much to bear, especially when Colt continued to enjoy himself at her expense.

“That’s a mighty pretty dress you got on, Mrs. Calhoun.”

Since it was almost an exact duplicate of Hope’s—minus the mud—she threw him a glare as Faith blushed and held out the soft fabric.

“Why, thank you, but please call me Faith.”

Yes, please.

Colt shook his head. “Well, I’d love to, but my mama would have my hide if I showed such disrespect to such a fine married lady.”

Hope wanted to show them both disrespect and leave their butts in the dust of Shirlene’s Navigator. Unfortunately, the keys were in the pocket of Colt’s wet jeans. Besides, before she left, Hope had to convince her sister that she had no reason to be grinning like a Disney princess after all the wicked stepmothers had been banished to another kingdom.

“I sure hope you weren’t delivering boxes in that thing,” Faith said with just a tad bit too much innocence.

“No, ma’am.” Colt leaned an arm on the roof of the Chevy. “Even I couldn’t get this thing to run.”

She nodded, and Hope wondered if maybe she would leave it at that. But she should’ve known better.

“So if it doesn’t run, what were you doing?”

Hope opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Damn! Where was a brain when you needed it.

“We were just reliving old times,” Colt helped her out. “I used to live here, and Hope lived next door.”

Faith’s eyes widened, and she turned to Hope. “I didn’t realize this was where you and Shirlene grew up. You lived in Bubba’s trailer?”

Colt’s gaze snapped over to Hope’s, and she explained to both of them. “Some guy named Bubba Wilkes bought it off Daddy for a hunting lodge, and now my sister and Slate are living in it while Slate builds his house.”

Colt smiled and turned to Faith. “So welcome to the world of trailer trash, Mrs. Calhoun.”

Faith didn’t seem the least bit concerned about the negative connotation. “Thank you. I have to say, it was a little overwhelming at first, but now I love my little trailer. I’ll be sad when we move out this Saturday.”

“Slate’s new house is finished?” Hope asked, suddenly consumed with resentment.

“Everyone in town chipped in to help.” Faith’s eyes twinkled with happiness. “It’s been like a dream come true.”

Yeah, my dream,
Hope thought.

Faith nodded back in the direction of Bubba’s trailer. “Why don’t you come over and I’ll make you some tea.” She glanced back at the car. “That’s if you’re finished… talking.”

“No,” Hope said.

Colt’s eyebrows lifted. “We’re not done… talkin’, honey?”

Hope’s eyes narrowed as Buster came back over and sniffed around her boots. “No, I mean we don’t have time for tea. We need to finish delivering the boxes.”

“But I thought—”

“Try not to think, Lomax. Your brain can’t take the sudden exercise.”

He chuckled before demonstrating the manners that Hope had lacked. “Thanks for the invite, Mrs. Calhoun, but Hope’s right. We need to finish delivering the boxes before we get another gully washer. But maybe next time.”