Wyne and Chocolate (Citizen Soldier Series Book 2) (2 page)

“You are
something else, Jill,” he said, voice low, sending those butterflies into a
frenzy.

Unsure
if his comment was good or bad since it wasn’t followed by an
“I can’t wait
to get rid of your clothes”
or
“I can’t wait to get rid of you
,
”
she decided not to react.

Too bad
her body didn’t get the memo. It trembled without her consent.

Stupid,
neglected body.

“Does
your heater still work?”

She knew
he wasn’t talking about sex. Still, willpower kept her snort at bay. That, and
the fact the last one had hurt like a son of a bitch. Unfortunately, her mouth
was operable. “God, I hope so. My
heater
hasn’t been used in over a
year.”

Oh…crap.
Please tell me I didn’t say that out loud…

He
glanced from her to the dash then back again, narrowing his gaze on the second
pass.

“The car
heater doesn’t work. And, don’t mind me,” she rushed to say, desperate to take
the focus off her lack of sex confession. “I think the pain is making me a bit
delirious. I don’t seem to have control over my mouth.”

Oh God,
she was in trouble now, because he was staring at her lips.

“Are you
in a lot of pain?” he asked, lifting a hand to touch her face.

Even
though she was freezing her knickers off, she knew it was the gentleness of his
touch and the tenderness in his gaze responsible for the tremors racking her
body. She rarely saw this side of the man, and dammit, she was powerless to
resist. His about-face confused her silent.

“Come
here.” Muttering a curse, he sat back in his seat and hauled her onto his lap.
Apparently assuming her tremors were due to the cold, he rubbed her arms with
one hand and her legs with the other.

Despite
the fact he wore gloves, her body reacted to his caress as if they were both
buck naked and going at it hot and heavy. Unable to stand firm, she melted into
him with a delicious shiver. 

He held
her close, cradling her head against his chest as he spoke quietly. “It’s okay.
I got you, Jill. You’re in shock from the accident. You’ll be okay.”

She was
in shock, all right. Shock of finding herself sitting on his hard lap.
Plastered to his fine body. Hearing her name in his sexy, low tone. His sure,
warm hands stroking her legs and arms. Feeling his steady heart beating strong
under her ear.

The cute
guardsman had invaded her dreams for months, now he would fuel them until the
next New Year. Unexpected, his tenderness cracked something open in her chest.
She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes against the stinging. It had been so
long, so damn long since a guy had held her close and tried to take care of her
for a change. Wanting nothing in return. She’d been in her late teens…nearly
nine years ago. God, she didn’t realize how much she missed it.

“Hey,
it’s okay. Don’t cry,” he said, tipping her face to stare up at him. “Remember
what you said? You have insurance. You only hurt your nose…”

“And I
have my moldy penises,” she said, a smile tugging her lips.

“Yes.”
He laughed, warmth from his gaze heating her down to her high-heeled
boot-covered toes. “We can’t forget about them.”

“Nope,”
she agreed, mesmerized by the play of shadows the brim of his Army hat cast on
his face, and the way her body craved his caress that wasn’t sexual, just steady,
constant, reassuring. “Or my pitch.”

“Yeah.
What did you pitch? Your chocolate?”

Before
she knew it, she was telling him of the phone call she’d received about a last
minute cancellation that granted her the opportunity to pitch her chocolate to
a national corporation while she was in the city picking up her molds. “I
apparently passed the initial taste test. They said it had to pass two more…”

He
stiffened. “Jill, do you have it patented, or whatever it is you do with food?”

“Yes.”
She nodded. “It’s okay. I’m safeguarded should they attempt to duplicate the
taste.” Her uncle had his lawyer make sure her recipes were protected.

“That’s
good.” Mason expelled a breath and relaxed beneath her. “So, how long do you
have to wait?”

“Two to
three months,” she replied, while her mind began to fog at the thought of his
concern.

Again,
it had been so long since someone other than family had been worried for her
well-being. The thoughtfulness knocked her off balance. She hadn’t expected it
from the cute but closed-up Wyne. And she was already less than par thanks to
that dang pothole and wrecking her car…and sitting on the tempting lap of the
guardsman she’d admired from afar, lest she got too close and he bit her head
off.

Not
true. That wasn’t why she’d kept her distance from Mason Wyne since moving to
the Poconos over a year ago. She wasn’t worried about her head. Heck, she’d
gotten good at handling disgruntled bookies and thugs during her marriage. No.
She wasn’t worried about her head at all. It was her heart. And New Year’s
Resolution #3 again—
Resist the urge to help everyone and everything
.

Mason
was an
everyone
. And he needed help.

One look
at him when she’d arrived last year and her instinct to help the guy she’d met
all those summers ago had bubbled over. The Wynes had been regulars at her
uncle’s pizza shop, but thanks to braces and acne, she’d been too awkward and
shy to be anything more than an acquaintance.

Now, if
it weren’t for the fact he’d avoided women, particularly her, she might not
have been able to fight her recessive
help those in need
gene. But she’d
had a year to grow strong. To build up an immunity to assisting the needy. To
becoming their champion. To aiding anything that breathed. She’d gotten pretty
stern. Heck…she only fed four stray cats and took in one dog…and a rabbit
orphaned last spring, both of which she’d found homes for. Single digits. Those
she helped hadn’t totaled into double digits. It was a record.

One she
intended to keep, despite the shadows that sometime haunted the grumpy guy’s
beautiful eyes. Or the way he seemed to work all the time between the resort
and the Guard. But, that was none of her concern. Nope. Mason Wyne was none of
her concern.

“You
must be tired. Do you have to patrol the road all night?”

Damn,
the question was out before she could swallow it down.

He
stilled his hands and stared deep into her eyes. “Why? Did you have something
in mind, Jill?”

She
didn’t…until now. And, darn it, why did he have to go and say her name again?
All sexy, and low…and sexy. Those butterflies returned to flutter low in her
belly, and his incredible woodsy, yummy man smell only fueled the flurry.

“Yeah,”
she replied, her own voice a rough whisper. She cleared her throat and lifted
her hand to touch the scruff on his chin.

But he caught
and held her hand and repeated, “What did you have in mind?”

“Chocolate
penises.”

M
ason wondered briefly if he’d lost his mind. That would explain
why he was flirting with Jill. She was dangerous. He’d known since the first
day they’d met. Well, re-met, after she’d moved to the Poconos permanently.

Back
when he was a teen, Jill Martelli had been a cute but shy visiting New Yorker,
a few years his junior, that had fascinated him and his teenage brothers, but
they’d had too much respect for Al Martelli to sniff around his young niece.

That,
plus their dad forbade any contact outside the restaurant, claiming she was too
sweet for the likes of his horny boys.

His dad
had been right. But that was nearly ten years ago. They were no longer adolescents,
a fact he’d instantly noted the day his nephew had dragged him into her candy
shop last spring.

The cute
New Yorker had grown into a beautiful, attractive brunette that sent shockwaves
of awareness down his dormant body. He’d stood there, stiff and unblinking,
watching as she’d stooped down to look Tyler in the eyes and answer the
kindergartener’s question about hollow chocolate rabbits. Jill could’ve brushed
the little boy off like most adults, but she hadn’t. She’d treated his nephew
like he’d mattered and,
ah…hell
, that had mattered to Mason.

It had
also sent up a red flag. The woman made him feel…hot, bothered, hungry,
lonely…needy. Everything he did not want. Everything he’d cut out of his life
since his broken engagement. So, he’d made it his mission to avoid being in her
presence.

He
couldn’t avoid her now. Nor could he evade the heat consuming his body or the
way he felt alive for the first time in months. Maybe even years.

“I have
a large order of chocolate penises…penis pops…a large order of pops to fill,”
she rushed to say, heat flooding her cheeks in a pretty shade of pink that
deepened the brown of her eyes.

She
stared up at him, gaze warm and inviting, sweet smile on her face despite her
swollen nose and dried blood. God, she was adorable.

And he
was in deep trouble. “Why would a pretty woman spend a cold evening making
candy…alone?”

“You
think I’m pretty?”

Christ,
she was gorgeous, but it was just like her not to know. She wasn’t fishing for
compliments, either. The woman genuinely didn’t know she was a beauty with
silky brown hair his fingers had longed to touch. Mesmerizing eyes that turned
him inside out whenever she smiled, making him feel warm and accepted, flaws
and all. A cute little button nose, looking a bit painful at the moment, and
full, kissable lips that curved into a ready smile at the drop of a hat.

She had
a natural beauty. An effervescence that drew people in and made them feel
alive, important, cared for—exactly what he was trying to avoid. But…right now,
alone in the dwindling daylight with her warm curves settled on his lap, he was
powerless to resist.

“Yes, I
think you’re pretty. And smart, funny, kind.”

Her
blush deepened and his heart rocked against his ribs. Hard.

There
hadn’t been movement in his chest for years. Not one solitary blip, even when
he’d dated that famous Broadway star last summer. The only time movement
occurred was when Jill Bailey was near. This was not good. It was a strong
argument against flirting, one he noted…then ignored.

“So, why
do you have a night of candy making planned instead of a date?”

She
laughed, and shifted as if uncomfortable with the compliment and question. The
shifting ignited more movement. This time, behind his zipper.

“I’m
trying to get my business off the ground. I don’t really have time to date.”

Something
he completely understood. Since he and his three brothers had purchased their
resort three years ago, he’d pretty much been married to the place, between
fixing it up, guiding tourists on adventures, creating a web marketing
strategy, plus drills and deployment in the Guard, he’d barely had time to
breath.

And yet,
whenever the pretty baker was near, he felt the zing. His dormant heart moved.
His dick twitched. His whole damn body awoke when she entered a room. And it shouldn’t.
He had no business messing with her. Dancing with her at his sister Brandi’s
wedding. Visiting Confection Connection with his nephew. Just because she was
no longer a teenager, it didn’t change the fact she was still sweet, kind, and
caring. Jill was a hard worker, too. This stunt she pulled today, traveling to
the city in a major snowstorm to get candy molds so she could fulfill an order
proved she was devoted to making her business a success.

Sure,
he’d complained about her carelessness, but he also understood it. All too
well.

“Same
here.”

Her
smile widened. “Yeah?”

He
should draw back. Stop the madness before it started. She was a helper. She
helped lost causes.

Not him.
Never him. Hell no. He didn’t see helpers. Didn’t
do
helpers. Not his thing.

So, why
the hell was he still holding the woman? Why didn’t he place her back in her
seat?

Because,
with her warm, open gaze staring up at him, and sweet, full, inviting lips so
close to his, Mason could no longer deny it. He ached.

“Yeah,”
he replied, mouth hovering just above her parted lips.

For so
long, the need and yearning for something—someone—he’d managed to suppress
finally broke through. He needed a
woman. And Jill, with her quiet
acceptance, gorgeous body and warm, healing heart was knocking him for a hell
of a loop. The urge to tighten his hold and lose himself in her was strong.

So damn
strong…

A knock
sounded on the driver’s side window, jerking them apart.

“Hey,
you two decent?” Keiffer asked, his muffled voice barely audible through the
glass.

At the
moment, his brother was lucky the glass separated them or Mason’s fist would be
another cause for his muffled voice.

“Those
windows are awfully fogged,” the idiot said, continuing to push his luck.
“Thought I’d better give you a warning. Ethan and Greg are here with the other
Humvee.”

A second
later, Jill scrambled to her seat and opened the door. “Then you, Keiffer Wyne,
get to give me a piggy-back ride up that hill. No way am I going to ruin my new
boots. I’m liable to slip on my high-heels and bust my nose, again.”

“We
can’t have that.” His brother chuckled and twisted around to offer his back.

Mason
watched as the woman, who just moments before had warmed his lap with her soft
curves, climbed onto his idiot younger brother. An unrecognized emotion spread
through his shoulders and rippled down his spine.

“Oh,
Mason,” she called, a worried pitch to her voice. “Would you please grab my
penis molds?”

The
cold, snow-filled winter air carried his brother’s distinctive snort. “Yes,
Mason. Do grab the penises. You’ve had lots of practice.”

Bastard.

Not
bothering to give his brother the finger, he grabbed the four molds from the
back seat before following the laughing duo up the small hill to the two other
guardsmen already working on the broken Humvee.

“Ah,
Jill, step into my heated lair.” His oldest brother Ethan smiled as he rushed
to open the door to the running vehicle parked facing the front of his on the
deserted interstate.

“I doubt
she’s cold,” Keiffer said, twisting around so his cargo could climb into the
Humvee. “She had Mason and his penises to keep her warm.”

Flipping
his grinning sibling not one, but two birds, which wasn’t easy clutching the
damn dicks, he marched passed the two laughing guardsman and leaned inside the
vehicle to hand the blushing woman her molds. “Good luck with your deadline.
Make sure you get your nose looked at.”

“I’m
fine.”

“No. You
crashed your vehicle and need to be checked out.” He stared at her long and
hard, all the while knowing the stubborn woman was going to do whatever the
hell she wanted.

Before
she could respond, he slammed the door and turned to his older brother, not
bothering to hide his sudden annoyance. “I don’t give a damn what she says. You
make sure she’s checked out.”

Ethan
nodded. “Of course, don’t worry. I’ll handle it. Unless you want to ride back
into town with—”

“No.”
Hell no. The last thing he needed was to be around the woman any longer. Thank
God his younger brother had interrupted his moment of weakness. “I’m sure Greg
is almost done fixing my ride.” He strode to Keiffer’s buddy. The guardsman was
a gifted mechanic like his younger brother. There wasn’t anything those two
couldn’t take apart and put back together. The former was currently bent over
the opened hood of the broken vehicle, applying his magical fix-it powers. 

Christ,
that’s exactly how he’d felt with Jill on his lap, gazing into his eyes, her
warmth seeping past his walls, aiming straight for his busted heart with her
magical healing powers.

No
thanks. He’d done the
let the woman into his heart thing
. It hadn’t
worked out so well.

“Yeah.
That should do it.” The younger guardsman nodded and stood back. “Give it a
try, Keif.”

Mason
watched as his brother climbed into the dead vehicle, and cranked it over in
one try. “You are a genius like my brother, Greg. Thanks.” He slapped the guy
on his back and turned to Ethan. “You two take Jill straight to the hospital
and make sure she’s examined. Keiffer and I will continue on our patrol.”

Out in
the storm. Where it was a hell of a lot safer away from the sweet woman and her
tempting curves.