Authors: Mackenzie Crowne
She refused to allow her gaze to follow the attractive backside of a man who’d been given a surplus of male confidence. Lisa wasn’t of the same mind. Disappointment softened the anger in the clerk’s eyes as they trailed him out the door. CC shook her head. Some women didn’t recognize when they’d dodged a bullet.
Two minutes later, coffee in hand, she stepped out onto the sidewalk. Walter spotted her and lunged, startling a passing group of teenage girls. His leash snapped tight. Undaunted, the eleven-month-old pup spun in a happy circle. Hind end wiggling with excitement, he danced around the wary teenagers, entangling one of the girls in the heavy canvas strap of his leash.
A reckless endangerment lawsuit flashed through CC’s mind, and she rushed forward to grab his collar. “He’s harmless.” She tugged the dog back, and freed from the tether, the frightened girl skittered away, casting nervous glances over her shoulder as she hurried down the sidewalk with her friends.
CC scowled at her exuberant dog. Oblivious to the averted disaster, his body quivered with juvenile exhilaration as he gazed up, wearing a doggy smile.
“Damn it, Walter. What am I going to do with you?”
I was only playing. No need to curse.
She frowned at his imagined answer, delivered in Antonio Banderas’s sensual accent. Normally, the whimsy of applying Zorro’s sultry tones to her dog amused her…. “God. I have
got
to get a life. Come on, boy. Let’s go home.”
Ninety-five pounds of leaping, overgrown puppy were impossible to control with only one hand. Like a four-legged wrecking ball, the dog sprang. Large paws thumped against her chest. Coffee flew and CC’s world tilted.
Staggering under Walter’s weight, she stumbled backward and slammed into a human brick wall. A low grunt sounded in her ear. Walter lunged again and the back of her head collided with a solid chin. She had no time to be shocked at the large hand sliding up her rib cage and clamping onto her left breast. The brick wall toppled and took her along in the process.
A rough
oof
burst from her lips, but the jarring landing she expected didn’t occur as she came to rest with her butt cradled by a very male lap. Long, denim covered legs stuck out from beneath hers. The odd combination of sawdust, coffee, and something sweet, yet spicy, teased her nostrils, making them flare. She squeezed her eyes shut briefly, then turned her head and stared into the Beantown Gigolo’s laughing face.
Walter’s warm tongue swiped at her cheek and kept her from making a bad situation worse by babbling incoherently. Angling her face away, she recaptured his collar. Strong arms tightened around her and alerted her to the hand still cupping her breast. Before she could slap at the long fingers curled around her flesh, a soft hiss blew in her ear.
She twisted around to meet the blue gaze so close to hers and the hiss became a soft groan. He shifted his hips, drawing her attention to the swelling erection pressing into her left butt cheek. A horrified gasp escaped her lips, and he tightened his hold.
Seemingly unconcerned by his body’s reaction, warm humor twinkled in the gigolo’s eyes. “Not that I’m complaining, but we should probably get up. We’re drawing a crowd.”
She glanced around. He was right. Half a dozen pedestrians had paused in their early morning travels to witness the spectacle they presented. The urge to flee from prying eyes clawed at her like wicked talons, overshadowing her embarrassment at the drag of his palm releasing her breast as she scrambled from his lap. She rolled to her knees and shot him an accusatory glare. He wiggled his fingers as if he only now realized where they’d rested, but the twinkle in his eyes said just the opposite.
He gripped her elbow and helped her to her feet. To her further agitation, he didn’t let go.
“You okay? Nothing broken?”
She shook her head as her gaze flew from one stranger’s face to another. Terror, insidious and painful slithered through her. The years dropped away, and memories of other clamoring crowds rushed her. She fought against the all-too-familiar suffocation compressing her lungs, forcing herself into a shallow pant.
Breathe, CC. You aren’t nine, and these people have no idea who you are.
Neither the reminder nor the breathing technique helped. Her lungs constricted beneath an iron band of dread. She tightened her grip on Walter’s collar, prepared to force her way through the human wall of interest to make her escape. Desperate, her gaze darted to the fingers wrapped around her elbow, then bounced up to the face of the man holding her captive. Between the hat’s brim and the glasses, his brow beetled together.
He surprised the hell out of her when he turned on their audience and his sharp command held the steely edge of menace. “Nothing to see here, folks.”
One by one, the nosy pedestrians began to wander off, and she clamped down on her bottom lip to suppress a whimper of relief. Taking advantage of his preoccupation, she turned to go. The long fingers still wrapped around her arm brought her up short.
He softened his hold but didn’t let go. “Hold on a second.”
Teeth clenched, she squeezed her eyes shut against the ominous black halo hovering at the edges of her vision. She gulped convulsively as her oxygen-starved lungs trembled on a spasm.
“Hey, what’s this?”
With a fingertip under her chin, he tipped her face up, and her eyes flew open. A single, sharp gasp provided a shallow breath of air, but not enough. Not nearly enough.
“Hey now,” he crooned and stepped closer. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Over the buzzing in her ears, the echoing facsimile of his Bostonian accent came from a distance.
Oh, no. No, please. Not here. Not now.
Her circle of vision shrank. Warm fingers brushed over her arm. Confused alarm tightened his features. “Don’t faint on me, baby. You’re fine. Everything’s going to be fine.”
A helpless shake of her head was the best she could manage. She opened her mouth and gulped like a grounded fish.
“Aw, hell.” He dipped his head and covered her mouth with his.
Shock did the job her breathing technique couldn’t. Suddenly, a sweet, healing breath filled her lungs. Tasting of coffee and spice, he sucked and nibbled at her lips, and her eyelids fluttered shut. Terror fell victim to wonder, and she greedily accepted his unexpected gift of desperately needed air. Awareness broadened slowly, taking her beyond relief to recognition as strong arms surrounded her and his hard body pressed to hers.
He’s kissing me. The Beantown Gigolo is freaking kissing me! On the sidewalk. In Manhattan. In broad daylight! Holy hot lips!
She waited for the surge of panic, but pleasure held sway as his silken tongue rubbed against hers, retreated, returned, and retreated again. With a final, gentle nibble of those magical lips, he broke the kiss and lifted his head.
She couldn’t prevent the shuddering sigh, didn’t even try. Lethargy, heavy and warm, dragged at her. A moment passed before she could open her eyes. Like twin funhouse mirrors, the lenses of his glasses reflected her pale image.
“You okay?”
Hanging suspended in his arms, she blinked at him. Was she okay? How was she supposed to answer when she had no idea? He’d scrambled her brain, managing something she’d never been able to achieve on her own. Her breathing remained erratic and shallow, but she wasn’t sprawled on the sidewalk in a dead faint, and her body hummed with undeniable pleasure. Overall, that qualified as more than okay in her book.
“I—” Was that her voice, all breathy and hoarse? “Uh… I’m fine.”
He dipped his chin, and above his glasses, his steady blue gaze moved over her face in a slow survey. She swayed as he slid his arms from around her, and he gripped her shoulders with his large hands.
“Glad to hear it, but what about me?”
Guilt ricocheted down her spine. Caught up in the remnants of childhood nightmares and then that unprecedented kiss, she’d forgotten all about their fall. Had he been hurt? The possibility hadn’t crossed her mind.
She eyed his squared chin but found no evidence of damage from the impact with the back of her head. Likewise, his body received a quick study. As solid as he appeared, an injury didn’t seem likely. Patently refusing to think of one prominently solid body part swelling beneath her butt, she squinted her eyes in suspicion. “What
about
you?”
The clenched line of his jaw softened with his chuckle, and he released her shoulders. “I just sacrificed my body so you wouldn’t be hurt, not to mention that little mouth-to-mouth exercise. I deserve a thank you, at least, if not an introduction.”
“Sacrificed your bod—” She snapped her mouth shut and pressed her lips together. Rattled, she’d forgotten the kind of man she was dealing with. Give a player an inch and he’d demand a mile. Okay, he was right about the apology. She owed him one. A big one. But an introduction? Not in this lifetime.
“Look, I’m embarrassed, and I don’t think clearly when that happens.”
He cocked his head and waited.
“Thank you for catching me.”
“And?”
“And good-bye.” Time to go. Any further conversation would inevitably lead to
why
that mouth-to-mouth exercise had been necessary. She spun away and tugged a lagging Walter down the sidewalk, not surprised when her unwanted savior slipped up beside them. He matched her stride for stride but said nothing.
Half a block later, she couldn’t take it anymore. She shot him a sidelong glance. “What?”
“I’m still waiting for my introduction.” He ruffled long fingers over Walter’s muscled back and grinned. “You may be a violation of the city ordinance, pal. I’m not sure this neighborhood is zoned for livestock.”
A smile wanted to form. She squelched the urge. Yeah, the guy was charming and his kiss had magical powers. He was also a player. She sped up her pace, to no avail.
“I’m Kevin Tucker, by the way.”
Curiosity got the better of her. “I thought your name was Keith.”
“Keith?” Confusion flitted over his bad boy features before a deep rumble began in his wide chest. His humor welled to become a full-throated laugh. Disturbed by the shiver of awareness at his obvious pleasure, she frowned.
“I’m flattered you were paying enough attention to catch my name, but it’s Kevin.” He nodded back toward the coffee shop. “Lisa was handing me a little payback by getting my name wrong.”
“Which you deserved.”
“Yeah, I did,” he said without hesitation and smiled. “But I’m a victim of extenuating circumstances. A dog really
did
eat the slip of paper with Lisa’s name and number.”
Her breath expelled in a scoffing huff. “Give me a break.”
“Cross my heart.” He backed up the claim with a finger slice across his chest.
Suspicious, she studied his innocent expression. “That excuse wasn’t just a dating version of my dog ate my homework?”
He shrugged and shook his head. “If you’d ever met Murphy, you’d understand.”
“Murphy?”
“An idiot mutt.” His chuckle skittered over her nerve endings, making them tingle. “So, I’m Kevin, and you are…?”
She stopped short. He halted beside her.
She sighed. “You’re not going to leave me alone until I tell you, are you?”
He faced her and crossed his arms.
“If I tell you, will you go away?”
He hesitated at the request but finally nodded.
“CC Calhoun.” She scowled. “Happy now?”
He moved quickly. Snatching up her free hand, his strong fingers kept her from pulling back. He bent to brush a whisper of a kiss over her knuckles, and the fine hair on her arms stood at attention. He straightened, and as though fully aware of the unexpected but completely pleasurable flash fires sparking throughout her body, a small smile curled the corners of his lips. He released her hand slowly.
“A pleasure to meet you, CC Calhoun.” Tapping a fingertip to the brim of his cap, he walked away.
Chapter 2
CC crouched over her workbench and ignored her cramped fingers as she twisted the dental-floss-thin wire. Over and over, she wrapped the yards of flexible metal filament around the skeletal base of the piece. An hour passed, then another. Shape slowly took form. A fifth hour neared its end when the finished sculpture finally emerged.
Intent concentration slid away as her critical eye considered every line of her creation. Sophisticated and sleek, the slim figure stood, one delicate, feminine arm outstretched as if in a plea toward the unknown.
She sat back and moaned at the sudden relaxation of screaming muscles. Rolling her head and shoulders, she stretched the bunched tendons in her neck and flexed her fingers to rid them of their stiffness.
Yearning
. The title whispered through her mind.
The foot tall sculpture filled her gaze, but as it had numerous times over the past six hours, Kevin Tucker’s smiling face formed in her mind’s eye. Sweet and spicy, the memory of his scent teased. A sharp snort cleared her nostrils and disbursed the haunting fragrance, but the memory of the man remained.