Unbroken: Country Fever, Book 3 (9 page)

“Excuse me, I just have to head back to my table. I think I see my friend.” She smiled at the man and turned away.

Her breath caught as she came up against the burning hunger in Christian’s eyes.

He stood five feet away, his expression burning with want even though she’d just had her heart carved out. Anger bubbled up inside her.

She reached over the bar and snagged the hose used to dispense soda. With a yank, she drew it over the bar top and aimed it right at Christian’s groin.

“Looks like you need something to cool off.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but she sprayed him before he got a word past his kissable lips. The club soda shot out and soaked his fly. She aimed lower, thoroughly wetting him.

“Son of a—Claire, what the hell’s the matter with you?”

Satisfaction replaced her irritation, and she handed the soda hose back to the bartender with an exchanged grin. Then she strode away from the bar, drink in hand.

Christian was on her instantly, snapping at her heels, his voice angry in her ear. “What the hell was that for?”

For devouring me with your eyes. For making me feel things I’m not ready to feel.

She glanced over her shoulder at his furious expression. His musky scent filled her head. “For looking at me as if I’m a dessert and you haven’t eaten in a week.”

He stopped short, but she kept walking. Feeling him fall away, she continued on with a bounce in her step. She didn’t take five steps before he appeared at her side, as if on a spring.

“Look, I know you’re hurting—”

She whirled on him, and her drink sloshed over her fingers. “Don’t talk to me about that.”

He met her gaze, and the understanding she saw there sliced through her more easily than any blade. Her chest tightened.

Christian wrapped his fingers around her wrist and drew her in. “Who knows how you feel better than I do, huh, Claire?”

She slumped in his hold. For a second, she hung there while George Jones crooned to a finish and a Barbara Mandrell song started up. Christian’s hard chest was inches from her nose. She longed to drop her face to the front of his shirt and breathe him in.

He removed the glass from her hand and set it on the nearest table. “That’s it. Come outside with me.”

She let him draw her through the obstacle course of tables and outside. The cooler night air struck her hot face. She gulped.

“I haven’t heard from him,” Christian said. He released her and kicked a boot into the gravel.

Claire studied his expression in the blue glow from the single parking light. Shadows accentuated the hollows of his cheeks and his unshaven jaw. His eyes glittered.

“He’s not here, but we are,” he said hoarsely.

Knotting her hands, she struggled to keep from touching him. Yes, he could comfort her. Make her feel alive again. But what if they were no good without Tucker? Some magic might have taken place that night, and without Tucker’s spell, she and Christian were nothing but silent pawns on a game board.

When she didn’t speak or react, he kicked the ground harder and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “Let’s go get a chili dog, all right?”

At least six inches of pure fat on a bun didn’t come with heartache.

“Okay.”

He led her to his truck and opened the door for her. She slid onto the vinyl seat, too aware of his closeness. He came around the front of the vehicle and hopped in the driver’s side.

She’d sat beside him a number of times while shuttling around the Langley Ranch, but this felt more formal.

She didn’t know Christian, yet she knew how his face looked when he climaxed. Knew how he tasted and how gentle he was with the animals. And how desperately he was hurting from Tucker’s loss too.

He started the engine and top forty radio blared into the cab. Giving her a sheepish smile, he turned the music down.

“Where’s the best place to grab a chili dog?”

“The Quickie Mart, of course.” Shooting her a crooked grin, he braced a hand on the seat near her shoulder and twisted in order to back up.

She dug out her cell and texted her friend to let her know she wouldn’t be at The Hellion as planned. As she flipped through contacts, she paused on Tucker’s name. For an excruciating moment, she considered texting him.

Miss u.

Why did u go?

Chris and I are getting too close.

None of those seemed appropriate, so she stuffed her phone in her purse.

“You wouldn’t believe the work it took to make this road surface so perfect.” Christian’s low voice slid over her senses, a caress she didn’t want.

Playing along, she asked, “Like what?”

“Ten twelve-hour days for a crew of twenty men. Up here, we had to hand dig the ditch, because the space was too tight for the machinery.” He glanced at her. “It’s strange. You can drive this stretch of road a hundred times and never really know it until you’ve touched it.”

She could look at Christian as a handsome man who made her body hum, but since that night she’d come against his mouth and on his fingers, she’d never think of him the same way.

After a while, he asked, “You were meeting friends at The Hellion again?”

“Yes, we have a standing date.”

“Who do you have in your life besides friends?”

“My aunt.”

“Brothers or sisters?”

“No, just a dad who drives truck. I don’t see him very often. My aunt has taken care of me forever.”

His lips tightened, causing a bracket to form around the corner. “I have a sister, Moira, who lives about two hours away with her family. She has four kids and one on the way.” He shook his head. “I don’t know when she became a brood mare, but—”

Claire smacked his biceps hard, and he hunched around the steering wheel in laughter.

“Thank God it’s not foal season. I can’t possibly be expected to know how to pull a foal on the ranch.”

“Yeah, that’s beyond my scope too.”

The weight of their new responsibilities crashed over them. Tucker had told Christian that he’d be gone for a few days. Two had passed without word from him. When would he come back? What happened when the animals ran out of food? On a waitress’s income, there was no way Claire could buy food. And she was sure Christian’s income wouldn’t get them much further than a couple of chili dogs scarfed down in the parking lot of the Quickie Mart.

They bumped into the parking lot. She gripped the “holy shit” handle to brace herself.

Christian pulled into a parking spot and sat there for a minute.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“Umm. I forgot about my wet jeans.”

Laughter bubbled from her. Too easily she recalled his shocked expression when the cold liquid hit his man parts.

He dug into his back pocket and produced a battered leather wallet. He peeled off a couple of bills, but her gaze was locked to the small ring where a condom obviously was tucked. “Here, get what you want and two dogs for me.”

She accepted the bills, careful not to touch his fingers. “Drink?”

“Biggest sweet tea you can get your hands on.” His smile was infectious.

“Be back in a few. You stay here with your wet jeans.”

“Smartass.”

Grinning, she went inside. While getting drinks, she ran into a woman who told Claire she was there buying cough medicine for her child. She was a single mom and had to ask her neighbor to sit with the feverish child because her deadbeat ex was never around when she needed him.

Claire nodded politely and made all the right sounds. By now, she was so accustomed to listening to people she knew who needed a sympathetic ear and who required a couple of words to soothe them.

On some level she was glad to be an outlet for so many, but on the other…who was ever going to help her?

While she was checking out, she stared through the big windows at Christian’s truck. He was a dark shadow in the depths of the cab, his ball cap pulled low over his eyes.

Lust spiked in her. Visions of Christian tumbling her into the mattress, his strong body pinning her, spiraled in her mind.

Her stomach leaped. With a bag of chili dogs and two drinks in hand, she pushed through the door of the convenience store. Outside, she froze in her tracks as their gazes met.

Sparks flew between them. On the heels of that was a rush of panic and guilt. This wasn’t how she should react after Tucker left. She still wanted that man with every cell of her being.

Except she wanted Christian too.

She made her feet move. He leaned across the seats and opened her door for her. Then he took everything from her hands and set it aside. His big body loomed so close. What would happen if she just wrapped her arms tight around him and yanked him down for a kiss?

“Claire.” His voice was choked, as if he’d just guzzled two shots and a beer chaser.

She swung her gaze to his magnetic one. A quiet noise sounded in her throat.

Slowly, Christian cradled her face in his hands. She zeroed in on his mouth. The upper bow was completely shadowed by hair growth, but she easily recalled how sensual his upper lip was while working over her folds.

She shuddered.

And he kissed her.

Her breath caught in her chest and dizzying pleasure stole her senses. Automatically, she spun her arms around his shoulders.

He held the kiss for a long minute, lips unmoving. Tenderness washed through her like floodwaters through a gorge, stripping away any rough edges she might have and leaving only the soft woman behind.

She melted into the kiss.

With a growl, he angled his head and pressed on the seam of her lips. She opened to him instantly, accepting his plunging tongue.

His chest rumbled against hers as he captured her tongue in an erotic dance. In the background the faint strains of a Taylor Swift song floated, mingling with their heavy breathing.

Claire shifted to draw away, but he sank his fingers into her hair and held her. For a heartbeat, they stared into each other’s eyes.

“Come home with me.” His gruff tone made her pussy flood.

Before her head could catch up with her body, she found herself nodding. Dazed with passion.

A crooked smile spread over Christian’s face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. Without a word, he eased back into his seat and got the truck rolling.

The air buzzed with innuendo. Her heart pattered like a wild rabbit’s, tripping over itself even as thoughts fell over each other. But there was no making sense of what was going on.

Tucker gone.

Her longing.

Christian here.

Her longing.

Christian dug inside the paper bag and pulled out a foil-wrapped chili dog. He passed it to her. The aroma hit her, and her stomach grumbled.

He shot her a smile and bit into his. In four big bites, he wiped out his first dog. She unwrapped hers slowly and nibbled at it.

“Where do you live?”

“Up on Mac Hill.”

Her eyes bugged. “The place everyone goes parking?”

He gave a light laugh. “Well, they don’t go parking at my place. I live in a basement apartment about a mile from the make-out grounds.” He eyed her, steering with one hand and pulling the foil off his second chili dog. “But we can go there if you want.”

“What—go parking?”

“I haven’t gone in a decade or so.”

She stared at the road ahead. Maybe having a romp in the truck would make their encounter less intimate. Purely fun.

Who am I kidding?

She gave a nod.

By the time Christian guided the truck into the wooded spot that was so perfect for concealing lovers, she was soaking wet. Her pussy tingled and her nipples throbbed.

He cut the engine and popped a mint into his mouth.

“Can I have one too? That chili…”

“We’ll share.”

She couldn’t stop her smile from blooming on her face. He leaned across the console and gathered her up. In a swift tug, he yanked her so she was half lying on his lap.

“This is cozier,” he said a split second before claiming her lips. The first brush ignited her. Moaning, she wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her mouth under his.

He neatly tipped the mint onto her tongue.

“Mmm.” She sucked, letting the peppermint fill her head, along with the musk of the man.

“I like you, sweetheart. Probably too much.”

She quivered at his words, but before she had a chance to fully process what they meant to her already cracked heart, Christian slipped his hand over her breast. She arched, filling his palm completely.

He chased the mint around her mouth with his tongue, batting it around, scooping it up. Finally, he stole it back.

“Hey!”

He closed his fingers over her hard nipple, and she gave a throaty cry. As he circled her bud, she dropped her head back. He closed in on her throat, licking a path to the sensitive hollow. Then he pressed the mint against her skin and skated it upward. The coolness in comparison to his scorching tongue threatened to make her come without a single stroke.