Who You Least Expect (2 page)

“Why are you dancing with me?”

A stupid question, but it was the best she could come up with.

“I got the sneaking suspicion that you’d planned on ignoring me all night.”

She had been planning to ignore him, along with almost everyone else, but with Cody standing so close, she had a hard time recalling why. But she couldn’t admit that, of course.

“Mr. Sommers, you overestimate yourself. There’s nothing sufficiently interesting about you to gain my attention, to make no mention of inspiring me to ignore you.”

He smiled down at her, his eyes soft with amusement and disbelief.

“And besides, from what I saw, you were so busy charming every eligible woman in Thornehill Springs, there was no need for me to ignore you,” she said in a rush.

Damn!

She’d tried to focus on Verna and Joe and Quinn and tried to pretend everyone else didn’t exist, but she hadn’t been able to stop her gaze from following Cody as he’d moved about the room, flirting with and charming every woman he’d come into contact with. And now, despite her attempts at nonchalance, she’d given herself away. The little flash of victory in his eye proved that he hadn’t missed her inadvertent confession.

“Ms. Bishop, if I don’t rise to the level of your notice, how do you know who I was talking to?” he asked, the smirk on his face mirrored in his voice.

She threw him what she hoped was her most cold glare, the one that made people think twice before tussling with her, but he just smiled brighter. She kept herself from gaping, but just barely, and then almost cried out with glee when the last strands of the song finished and the dancing stopped.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I h-have…duties to attend to. Have a nice evening,” she said, uncaring of how flustered she sounded. She
was
flustered, and if she didn’t get away from him, she’d slip. And she couldn’t afford to slip.

He held her a second longer and then let his arms drop, a genuine smile that still managed to be cocky on his face.

“You do the same, Blake. See you around,” he said.

Without bothering to correct him for shortening her name, Blakely spun on a heel and headed in the direction that would take her away from him most swiftly, all the while steadfastly ignoring the prickle of awareness that told her his gaze followed her every move.

••••

There were no two ways about it: Blakely Bishop wanted him as much as he wanted her. The softness in her eyes, the way she slightly pursed her lips, the yielding way she held her body as if she was fighting to keep herself from closing the distance between them so that their bodies touched. All of those little tells that she probably would have been mortified he’d seen, and Cody was not unfamiliar with the look of a woman who wanted him.

He watched as she practically scurried away from him like she had rocket propulsion. A smile curved his lips as he let his gaze trace her petite but shapely form. And as he stared, he again wondered what about her fascinated him so. She was beautiful by any measure, clear dark honey skin, wide eyes, and full lips that made her stand out in a crowd. But he knew it couldn’t be her looks. Sure, Cody enjoyed beautiful women, but he preferred them down-to-earth. He liked a woman who’d have a beer with him, a woman who liked to get as dirty as he did—in bed and out.

And he’d bet his last dollar that Blakely wasn’t that type.

Every time he’d seen her, and that had been fairly often in the run-up to his pal Joe MacDermid’s wedding, she’d been so perfectly coiffed it had blown his mind. There was never a hair out of place, ever. Her clothes were always neat and looked really expensive, and her short nails were perfectly buffed to a shine. She was pristine, so pristine in fact that after the second or third time seeing her, he’d been unable to escape thoughts of what it would be like to get beyond that perfect exterior, to see her mussed, a little less polished, see her face flushed, eyes sparking with the passion that he’d put there.

An unlikely scenario, or at least he’d thought until today. She’d always been reserved around him, not hostile per se, but she’d treated him with politeness that bordered on condescending.

But during that dance, he’d seen a crack in her facade and his decision had been made.

She might not know it yet, but Blakely Bishop would be his.

••••

The incremental release of the tension in her shoulders and the loss of that tickle of awareness he always caused told her that Cody had left. That small part of her that wanted to make her forget who she was, forget
where
she was and pursue him with a vengeance, was disappointed. She was self-aware enough to acknowledge that she wanted him, badly, knew that under different circumstances she wouldn’t have hesitated to explore the chemistry between them and find out if Cody Sommers delivered everything those eyes of his promised. And that reckless streak, the one that couldn’t care less about propriety or gossip, urged her to do just that.

But the rest of her, the part that she wished was all of her, if only to silence the little voice inside her head that said she didn’t have to be bound by her last name and past, not even here in Thornehill Springs, was relieved he was gone. Cody tested her resolve in a way that no one else ever had and time with him, even in these public surroundings, would lead to ruin. So when she glanced around the hall and confirmed that he was indeed gone, she let out a sigh and smiled, happy to have at least some of the tension relieved.

As she walked out of the hall, she tried to reflect on the good things that had happened today. It seemed every person in Thornehill Springs had made it out to the wedding, and as complicated as her feelings about this town were, sharing in Verna’s special day had been worth the agitation. Besides, she was an adult now, one who’d made a life for herself. Of course, it hadn’t worked out as she’d planned, and she had come home, bent but not entirely broken. But nobody in town needed to know that and she didn’t need to bow to the pressure to come clean. As far as they were concerned, she’d just come home like so many others did. And she wasn’t the same person they’d known. Her past didn’t matter, and she wouldn’t let these people, this place, control her. Not anymore.

She was exhilarated by her resolution and by the opportunity it presented. The new Blakely Bishop didn’t care what other people thought of her or who she chose to spend time with. Which meant there was no reason that Cody Sommers couldn’t, temporarily anyway, be hers.

Chapter Two

Cody was bored. He glanced over at the smoking-hot brunette he’d hooked up with—eight weeks? No, twelve weeks ago—and turned back to the pool table.

Very bored.

He appreciated some of the charms small-town living offered, but there was definitely a downside. Sure, Thornehill was a nice sleepy little place to rest and relax, but he’d made his way through most of the available locals and was loath to indulge in repeats. It gave them the wrong impression, made some of them think that there could be something permanent, and he couldn’t have that.

But maybe… He glanced at the brunette again as she was doing her best to pretend that she was ignoring him while at the same time making it clear that she was waiting for him to come over. He gave a mental shrug. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Decided, he made one step toward the brunette and then stopped when the door to Mason’s, the only marginally adult establishment in the entire town, opened, bringing in an unexpected guest.

Blakely Bishop.

His friend Joe’s happiness aside, she had been, by far, the best part of the wedding-related festivities. She was beautiful, her prickly, sometimes icy demeanor interesting, and those moments when she loosened the tight reins of her control and let him see the woman inside were something he craved.

But most importantly, she was different, challenging. And a challenge was something he’d never been able to resist.

She hadn’t spotted him yet, so he watched as she looked around the bar, her brown eyes seeking something, though he wasn’t sure what. When her gaze landed on him, he shot her his cockiest smile and laughed out loud at the disapproving lift of her eyebrow. But she walked toward him and in an instant, the fire in his blood was stoked.

When she stopped in front of him, they stood, silent, her assessing him as openly as he did her. She looked as beautiful and perfect as always, her hair flowing around her shoulders and framing her face, the red of her blouse highlighting the honeyed tone of her skin, the dark denim jeans cupping her ass in a way that made him jealous.

“Come to play some pool, Blake?” he finally asked.

“It’s Blakely. And I don’t play games.”

The words were cold, the delivery nonchalant, but he didn’t need to be a psychologist like Poole to know a loaded statement when he heard one. Despite what she said, Blakely was in the mood to play, and so was he.

“But games can be fun,” he said, and he was again treated to a reproving lift of the brow.

“Maybe for some people, but not for me,” she said.

Instead of responding, he inclined his head toward an open table in the back and through silent agreement, they headed to it. When they’d settled, he said, “So if you don’t play games, how do you amuse yourself?”

It was her turn not to respond. She broke his gaze and quickly swept the room with her eyes. Seemingly satisfied with what she saw, she turned back to him. “Cody,” she said, spearing him with her eyes again.

“Yes?”

“We both know where this is headed, so let’s cut to the chase. I dislike wasting time on meaningless flirting or idle chatter.”

He hadn’t expected that; seemed Blakely Bishop was full of surprises, another point in her favor. Still, he wouldn’t relent so easily.

“I enjoy flirting and idle chatter.”

“Well, then, maybe you aren’t the man I thought you were. Or the man I’m looking for,” she said, again glancing around the bar but this time as if she were searching for a different companion.

Not on his watch. The vehemence of the thought took him off guard, but he didn’t try to stop it. Blakely had said she didn’t like games but that clearly wasn’t the case. And she might not know it yet, but she’d only be playing them with him.

“I’m exactly the man you’re looking for,” he said.

“Well, then, what are we waiting for?” she asked, eyes narrowing with incredulity.

“Blake, I wouldn’t want you to think I’m easy.” He flashed another smile.

“I know you’re easy, and today, I am, too,” she said without pause.

“You wound me, Ms. Bishop,” he said, turning his mouth down.

She scoffed. “Unlikely.”

He laughed, and she smiled at him, though the expression appeared grudging at best.

“What gives you the idea that I’m a man of looser morals?” he asked a moment later.

“You’ve made quite a name for yourself around here. From what I hear, you’re working your way through the single ladies in town alphabetically.”

A slight exaggeration but Cody still felt compelled to defend himself.

“That’s not entirely accurate,” he said, to which she smiled. “And I hope you don’t pay heed to gossip.”

“It can be useful, but no. It’s like the telephone game. Who knows what the truth is after it’s passed around from fifty people before it gets to you?”

“Exactly. And for the record, I’m going numerically, oldest to youngest.”

She laughed out loud, her face transforming with her humor and making her even more beautiful.

“In that case, you would have gotten to me sooner rather than later, but I’m happy to save you a little time.”

“Oh, it would have been sooner.”

“Well, then, let’s go,” she said, making as if to stand.

“But not today.”

She gave him the cutest frown and then stared at him unblinking. “So from the sound of that statement, I’m guessing you won’t take me to your house and let me fuck your brains out?”

“Afraid not, Ms. Bishop,” he said without missing a beat, though he was still surprised and intrigued by her forwardness. “Like I said, you won’t respect me if I don’t make you work for it.”

She stopped again, a small smile that was a mix of respect and annoyance playing at the corners of her lips. “Your choice. But this is a one-time invitation. It won’t be extended again,” she said, and then she took a sip of the water the waitress had left, watching him intently and waiting for his response.

The desire in her eyes, the way the light made her lips, wet with the remnants of her drink, shine had him instantly hard and reconsidering his stance. It’d be so easy and oh so fun to take her up on her offer, and he had more than half a mind to whisk her out of here right now.

But he held off, instinct telling him she’d be more than worth the wait, and that some quickie fuck that she would probably regret tomorrow wouldn’t be nearly enough of Blakely Bishop.

“I think I’ll be able to change your mind. Why don’t you stay awhile and let me try?” he said.

“That’s highly unlikely,” she responded.

“Ms. Bishop, I do so love a challenge,” he said.

“Your loss. But I guess I can stick around since I don’t have anything better to do.”