All Things Pretty (2 page)

I watch his arms and shoulders through the
thin material of his shirt as he deftly maneuvers the jack. He
really is just a big guy! His back is extremely wide, but it tapers
in a dramatic V to a trim waist and narrow hips. As I examine the
way his long, bent legs curve into his butt, I notice that his
shirt has ridden up just enough that I can see smooth skin at the
base of his spine. I can’t see buttcrack. But I can’t see underwear
either, which makes me wonder if he wears any.

God, that’s hot!

I jerk my eyes away, as though he might be
able to feel me looking at him and thinking such things. It
wouldn’t do for me to flirt with another man. If wind of it ever
got back to Lance…

This time, I do shiver, but not in a
pleasant way.

Sig rises to his feet and turns his
panty-melting grin toward me. “That oughta do it.” He brushes off
his hands. “All locked up?”

I nod, trying not to be affected by his
charisma, but
geez!
It’s so hard!

“In that case, your chariot awaits,” he
says, sweeping his arm out in front of me. “Or in this case, a
truck because it’s the only thing big enough for a guy like
me.”

“How tall
are
you?” I ask as he opens
the passenger door for me.

“Six-six.”

“Wow! Six-six?” I repeat, impressed.

“Yep. Six feet, six inches of awesome.”

“And modesty.”

“Yeah, that, too,” he half-grins, closing my
door.

I watch my rescuer make his way around the
front of the truck to the driver’s side, a dreamy sigh fluttering
in my chest. As much as I don’t want to be, I’m charmed. Right down
to the butterflies in my stomach and the weak feeling in my knees.
I’m just thankful that, after today, I won’t ever have to see
Perfectly Hot Stranger again. Because I’m pretty sure that would be
a disaster.

CHAPTER TWO- SIG

“So, did I hear you call yourself Tommi?” I
say as I pull back onto the highway.

“Yes.”

Damn that’s sexy!
A dude’s name on
such an incredibly gorgeous, very feminine woman? Good God
Almighty!

“Is it short for something?”

“No. Just Tommi.”

Tommi, with blonde waves. Tommi with emerald
green eyes. Tommi with an ass so perfect my fingers itch to grab
it, squeeze it, hold her against me.

“Where to, Just Tommi?”

She gives me the address of a women’s
clothing shop in a swanky area of town. I’m not too surprised by
the neighborhood, considering that she drives a candy apple-red
Maserati.

Despite how much I want to, I don’t ask
questions about her destination. I don’t want to make her more
uncomfortable.

I can tell that I make this woman nervous.
Not like she thinks I might try to hurt her or try to take off with
her or anything, but like she’s uneasy with our attraction. Because
I know damn well she feels it. Holy shit! I can almost
taste
it,
it’s so strong.

I kinda like that I make her uneasy. I like
watching her squirm. It’s very interesting–the way she avoids eye
contact as much as she can, the way she nibbles her lip before she
answers me. She wants to get away as fast as she can, but maybe
because she thinks it’s best, not necessarily because she
wants
to.
I get the feeling what she
wants
to do is flirt
back. Only she won’t.

Or I could be the egomaniac she thinks that
I am and this could all be in my head.

But I don’t think so.

I’m not sure why she’d feel like she needs
to act a certain way around
me
. Unless she puts on a show
for everybody, which makes me even more curious about her. I’ve
been around her for all of ten minutes and already I find her
fascinating. Yeah, this should be interesting.

“Tell me, Tommi, what makes you tick?”

That draws her eyes over to me. If I weren’t
driving, I’d hold that gaze until she turned to putty in my
hands.

“What do you mean?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. What do you love?
What do you hate? What makes you get up in the morning? What do you
dread more than anything?”

In her head, she had an immediate answer to
one of my questions. I just don’t know which one. It showed on her
face before she could look away. Of course, she won’t be sharing it
with me. I’m not even sure I expected her to. I just wanted to ask.
I’m not sure why. Maybe just to see how she’d react.

“Are you always so nosey?” she asks
distantly, her eyes facing forward, staring blankly out the
windshield at the passing scenery.

“Always.”

I see the corners of her mouth twitch. “At
least you’re honest.”

“To a fault.”

Rather than bantering with me, Tommi grabs
her phone and holds it up for me to see. “I guess I’d better call a
tow truck.”

I’m quiet at she searches for a number and
then again as she talks back and forth with a rep on the other end
of the line.

We arrive at some ritzy little boutique far
too quickly. And I wasn’t rushing either. In fact, I was barely
going the speed limit.

When I pull into the lot and shift into
park, I turn to Tommi. She’s ready to jump out and run, it looks
like. Her hand is on the door handle and her eyes are wide.

“I’ll be back in just a few minutes. Are you
sure you don’t mind waiting?”

“I’m sure.”

“Some men act like waiting hurts,” she
offers.

“I don’t mind waiting for you.”

Her eyes twinkle the tiniest bit. “Even if
it hurts?”

I laugh. “Especially if it hurts.”

“Okay. Thank you. Really,” she says with a
sweet smile.

Makes me want to kiss her. Among other
things.

“No problem.”

I relax into my seat as she climbs down and
slams the door behind her. I can’t help watching the muscles in her
lean legs flex as she walks, watch the way her round ass moves
inside the denim of her shorts with each step. She’s so tall and
her legs are so long, my dick gets antsy just thinking about having
those babies wrapped around me, her hot, wet body pressed up tight
against mine.
Holy shit
!

I’m listening to the radio, enjoying the
breeze coming through the open window when she comes back out the
side door of the store. I’m pretty sure my damn chin hits the floor
the instant I see her.

Her hair is pulled up into a messy platinum
pile on top of her head, just a few waves hanging loose around her
face and brushing her shoulders. She’s dressed in a skin-tight red
dress that hugs every curve. It’s split almost to the hip on one
side, perfectly showcasing her world-class legs. The whole thing
reveals just enough of her lightly tanned skin to make a man wanna
beg. And I do. Wanna beg, that is.

Tongue practically dragging the floor, I
watch her as she walks in tiny steps to the passenger door. When
she opens it, I get a whiff of her delicious scent as it wafts
through the cab of my truck. Sexy and spicy, but still kind of
soft. Everything she’s trying
not to be
for me. But she
already is, whether she’s trying or not.

I see her eyebrows come together in a frown
as she stares down at the side step. She reaches for the hem of her
gown and tugs it up a couple of inches and grips the inside of the
door. She’s trying to figure out how to climb in here without
tearing her dress or being unladylike and showing too much of
anything. What a contradiction she is.

Her struggle spurs me into action. “Wait,” I
tell her, getting out to walk around to her side. She turns to face
me when I come up behind her. As I stare down at her, I realize I
want her. Well, I already knew that, but now I know
how much
I want her. A whole damn lot!

She looks up at me, sorta shy, hella sexy.
Her eyes…
God!
They’re sin and innocence and trapped little
bird, all in two exotic-shaped emeralds trimmed in thick, black
lashes. Like she knows what I’m thinking, she glances away,
nibbling at her lip again. They’re painted a dark ruby color, and
they look wet. Shiny. Like she’s been licking them.

As if she can feel me looking at them, I see
her tongue sneak out at one corner of her mouth and I have to bite
back a groan.

“Need some help?” I ask for the second time
today.

She peeks up at me and laughs, a deep
throaty sound that has me picturing her dancing in the rain. Naked
and free. “This is becoming a habit.”

“Not all habits are bad.”

“No, but some are dangerous,” she mutters in
a husky voice that vibrates all the way down to my balls.

“Nothing wrong with a little danger once in
a while.”

Her smile turns sad, but she says nothing.
After a few seconds, I move a step closer to her. She doesn’t back
up, but the way her lips part makes me wonder what she thinks I’m
about to do. Kiss her?

Slowly, I lean in, letting my hands settle
at her tiny waist. “Put your hands on my shoulders,” I
instruct.

With a bag in one hand (I assume it holds
the clothes she was wearing) and a little clutch thing in the
other, she reaches for me and I lift her into the passenger seat
until she can scoot back and swing her legs around. We watch each
other, sort of expectantly. I’m not sure what she wants me to do,
but I sure as all hell know what
I want
to do. Before I
think about acting on it, though, I shut the door and take a deep
breath.

I’m not used to holding back, and why I am
for this girl, I have no idea. Maybe it’s because she has an air
about her that makes me thinks she needs more rescuing than just
from being stranded on the highway.

I climb behind the wheel and start the
engine. As I’m shifting into gear, I see Tommi’s pale hair enter my
peripheral vision and I turn to look at. Her leg is exposed all the
way to the top of her thigh and she’s leaning forward to adjust the
strap of her sparkly silver shoe. When she straightens, she catches
me watching her.

“Men should be glad they don’t have to wear
shoes like these,” she says.

“It’s for the best. We could never make them
look that good,” I reply with a lopsided smile.

“Oh, I don’t know. I bet you’ve got great
legs,” she says, glancing down at my lower body before looking
quickly away like she slipped up by making such a comment. But she
did
make it, which means I was right. It’s not
me
that makes her nervous. It’s this damn sizzle between us.

“You’d win that bet. And any time you wanna
see ‘em, you just say the word.”

She smiles again, but says nothing as she
fiddles with the latch on her purse, back to avoiding eye
contact.

“So, where to next?”

“The Hotel Magnifique.”

“Nice,” I say, familiar with that venue as
well. This woman is obviously used to the finer things in life.

We ride the short distance in silence. I can
almost feel her tension ratcheting up every time she glances at the
clock. When I pull up beneath the covered area at the front of the
hotel, Tommi finally looks at me again.

“Thank you so much for your help today. I
don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“It was my pleasure,” I confess
sincerely.

The attendant opens the door for her and
she’s about to climb out when I reach for her wrist. “Wait. Don’t
forget your stuff,” I warn, nodding to the bag lying on the
floorboard.

“Oh. Thank you.” She doesn’t seem the least
bit grateful. In fact, she looks distressed, like I reminded her to
take a car bomb with her as she goes. Finally she reaches for it
and then tosses another smile my way when she’s out and her feet
are on the ground. “Thanks again, Sig.”

I nod to her, watching her as she walks
gracefully toward the entrance. Just before she goes through the
door, I see her duck to the side and stuff her bag of clothes into
a garbage can.

Now why the hell would she do that?

After she disappears inside and I’m pulling
away, I’m more determined than ever to find Tommi again. And to see
what those eyes look like when I kiss her for the first time.

CHAPTER THREE- TOMMI

I plaster on a smile as I follow the hostess
to the table where Lance is waiting for me. My stomach is a ball of
knots. I feel like I’ve got the touch of sexy chocolate eyes all
over me, like it’s obvious to everyone around me that I just spent
the last hour with someone I’m insanely attracted to. I chastise
myself for such a ridiculous notion and I take a deep, calming
breath.

“There you are,” Lance says when I approach.
His steely blue eyes are hard. Harder than usual. He isn’t happy.
That much is plain to see. “I was beginning to think you weren’t
going to show up.”

Like that would ever happen. I’m not
stupid.

“My car broke down on the way over.” I can’t
tell him where I really was.

His brow knits. “What could possibly happen
to a brand new car?”

“A flat tire.”

“Why didn’t you call?”

When I’m seated, I let him push my chair in
and wait for him to sit before I answer. The pause gives me time to
collect myself. It’s important that I stay calm when I’m not
telling the truth. I’ve learned this through necessity, much like
I’ve learned to lie through necessity. Luckily, I’ve become quite
an accomplished liar. I can make a complete fabrication seem not
only plausible, but
true
. Lying has become as useful and
essential to me as air or water or sleep. And I’m about as proud of
it as I am the rest of my sordid history, which is not at all.

“I didn’t need help. I’ve changed a tire
before. Unfortunately, the spare was flat as well. That’s why I’m
late.”

I gasp when he reaches out, like the strike
of a snake, and winds his fingers around my wrist. My first thought
is that he knows I’m fibbing. My second is that he can’t possibly
know. My third is to keep calm.