CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Newman arrived with Katie and Cubby at the Howler. The air was warm and filled with the scent of a summer night. The town was bustling with tourists and locals out enjoying a walk. No one was in a hurry to go anywhere, and Newman liked that. When he left Howling, everyone was always on the clock. Tonight was rock ’n’ roll night, and he and his friends were dressed accordingly.
“It’s gonna take me a week to get this shit out of my hair, Katie.”
Cubby wore jeans, a white T-shirt, and had his hair slicked back. Katie wore a tight skirt, high spiky heels, a wide belt, and a short-sleeved shirt. Around her head was a pink band.
“Aww, it’s a proud moment. Our sheriff has product in his hair for the first time in his adult life,” Newman said.
“One more word and I’ll deck you, I don’t care that it’s your birthday,” Cubby snarled.
Newman laughed, but left the sheriff of Howling alone… for now. He was greeted by friends as he walked into the bar.
“Happy birthday!” Everyone slapped his back or kissed his cheek. Home, he thought. There really was no place better.
“Your folks back?”
Newman shook his head at this question from a local. “Not for a few more weeks.”
“Shame, your dad’s missing a weekend of golf.”
He smiled and moved on, and tried not to tense up at the mention of his father. Not many people could get a reaction out of him, but he was one. Honesty had him adding Hope Lawrence as the second. But his reaction to her was totally different.
Pushing thoughts of both Hope and his father aside, Newman made for the bar, and waited to be served with Cubby at his side. Noah and Faith often employed tourists temporarily during the summer months, and he guessed that the waitress with her back to him was one of them. Not overly tall, but she had nice long legs, and as he was an ass man, he checked that out too. Very nice in a short denim skirt. Thick, shiny brown hair hung to her shoulders. He nearly swallowed his tongue when she turned and he realized it was Hope. Her eyes looked bigger, and those lashes were indecently long now. He couldn’t seem to drag his eyes from her soft, pouty lips. Makeup, he realized. She was wearing some. The shock held him speechless for seconds.
“What?” Her frown was fierce as she came to serve him.
He found his tongue. “I didn’t know you were working here.”
“Now you do.”
“Be nice, Hope, it’s his birthday,” Cubby said.
“Happy birthday,” she said, offering him a fake smile. “Nice hair, by the way. Although without all those fluffy curls for the girls to swoon over, it may be a lean night. Because let’s be honest here, they’re your best feature.” Her head then tilted slightly as she studied him, and he noted glitter on her cheekbones.
“You told me my abs were my best feature.”
Her eyes shot from him to Cubby, who was now smirking at Newman’s side.
“You play with fire, little girl, you’ll get burnt,” Newman said. Hope may smack talk with him, but the truth was she was an innocent in the world of man-woman combat.
“Whatever. What do you want to drink?”
“You almost look pretty. What’s with the makeup?”
“Faith did it, something about me scaring her customers.”
“Right, that makes sense then.” Newman managed to drag his eyes from her lips.
“So order already, I can’t stand here all night talking to you.”
“Two beers, and a medium white wine, thanks.”
“I got this,” Cubby said.
“All good, bud, you go find a seat with the others.”
Newman watched as Hope poured the drinks. She knew what she was doing and he remembered she’d worked here before leaving Howling. She wore a red bandana, and the contrast was something with her dark hair. The top buttons of her shirt were threatening to come undone. She looked hot, and way too sexy, and Newman wasn’t entirely comfortable with the look.
“Eyes up!” he snarled to the two Finlay brothers to his right. They were noticing Hope’s buttons too.
“There you go.” She shot him a look, then the Finlays as she placed the drinks before him.
“Your buttons are coming undone.”
She looked down at her shirt, but didn’t move to do them up.
“I’m wearing something underneath, and FYI, I can take care of myself, and have been for years.”
“Your shirt’s coming undone and you have too much makeup on.” Newman was not someone who usually spoke without thinking.
She braced her hands on the bar and eyeballed him.
“You’re always ragging on me about my clothes and inability to be a woman, in the Paul Newman handbook of how one should look. Yet when I’m reluctantly forced into clothes and makeup, suddenly I’m a tart.” She slapped his card back on the bar.
“I didn’t say you were a tart, and I was just looking out for you.” Newman winced at how lame he sounded.
“I see where you’re going wrong there. You keep confusing me with someone who gives a shit,” she snapped. “Now go away, I have more grateful people to serve.”
Newman sent the Finlays a look that he hoped meant back off, but wasn’t entirely sure they were sharp enough to get it. He then did something totally out of character. Standing on his toes, he leaned over, grabbed the front of Hope’s shirt, and kissed her on the lips.
“Happy birthday to me,” he said. Shooting the brothers another look, he saw they got his point now.
“What the hell!” Hope snarled.
Newman stepped back with his drinks before she could retaliate. The first person he encountered was Buster, and the smirk on his face confirmed he’d seen the kiss. He wore a black suit and glasses and looked like a Blues Brother.
“Pissing on your turf, boy?”
“No, just thanking her for the birthday wishes, baker boy.”
“So that was not about the Finlay brothers and the fact they had their eyes on your girl then?”
“Let it go, Buster.”
“You and Hope, who’d have thought it?”
Newman eyed his friend. Out of the group, this was probably the one who could hold a secret for more than ten seconds.
“Nothing to think about, so let’s leave it there.”
Buster then slapped him on the shoulder. “Your secret’s safe with me, bud.”
“What secret?” Willow arrived. She wore a knee-length lavender dress, nipped in at the waist. Her hair was in a high ponytail.
“Hey there, sweet cheeks.”
“Birthday boy.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a smacking kiss on his cheek. “You can have your present later.”
“Willow,” Buster moaned. “You don’t say shit like that to a guy.”
“What? Why?”
Newman laughed.
“I’ll look forward to it, Willow.”
He left the couple, and heard Buster explaining just what she’d implied. His friends were in a booth, and they made room for him. Jake McBride, another friend and Katie’s brother, raised his glass, and they toasted Newman. He then started opening the presents they handed him. A Longhorns cap from Tex.
“Again, bud? Seriously, it didn’t work last year. You got a lifetime supply of these or something?”
The Texan smiled, flashing his teeth. He was dressed like his brother in a white T-shirt and jeans, hair slicked back, arm slung around his wife, another friend, Annabelle Smith, who looked like she’d stepped off the set of a Grease remake. The other arm was resting on his brother’s shoulder. This is a happy man, Newman thought with a tug of jealousy. In fact, they were all happy. His friends were, for the most part, loved up, and he was pleased… no, really he was, he told himself. The problem was, he’d decided that wasn’t for him, but lately… well, lately he wasn’t quite so sure. His eyes went to the bar, and he looked at Hope and wondered what the hell this shit was with her. Why she made him unsettled. Maybe it was as simple as the fact that he was feeling ready? Should he start looking seriously for a life partner?
“Me next.”
He took the roll of paper from Willow and opened the silk bow. Unrolling it, he looked at what she’d drawn. It was all of them. His friends. Tex was leaning on Jake, and Newman on Cubby. Noah had Brad in a headlock, and Buster was at the end pulling a muscleman pose. It was natural, and so freaking brilliant he felt tears prickle in his eyes. It could have been any day after their ball games.
“I don’t know what to say, Willow. It’s really something,” he managed to get out.
“You just said it all.” She smiled.
The rest of his gifts ranged from insulting to useful—from the women. When the music started up, they were soon moving to the floor. He danced with a few of the local girls, and told himself he was not watching Hope.
“My round,” he said, ignoring the protests, and made for the bar. Why couldn’t he stay away from the woman?
“Hey there, birthday boy.”
“Faith. How’s Hope doing?”
“Don’t tell her I said this, but she’s awesome. Always was. Noah and I reckon she’s a pro. Has a nice way of handling people without getting too close, and gives as good as she gets.”
“Yeah, she’s certainly a people person.”
Faith laughed. “She was raised by Militant, not sure how you’d think she’d be any different?”
“Ryan always was.”
“Must be more like his father is my guess.”
“You know anything about him, their father?”
“Dad and Mom knew him. Said he was a good sort, but him and Militant weren’t compatible. He left, and never returned.”
“They see him?”
Faith shrugged. “Hope is pretty closed about her father, so I never pried. Why the interest?”
“Curiosity, I guess.”
“I think it may be more than that, birthday boy, but we’ll leave it there.”
While Faith made up his order, he watched Hope. She was smiling at the guy she was serving. Her buttons, he noticed, had long since given up. At least she wore a tank top underneath. Still, it was low enough that he could see the curve of her breasts when she leaned over. The guy was enjoying the show. Newman wasn’t.
He wondered about earlier in the Hoot. What had frightened her and made her run? What had her looking cornered?
“Here you go.”
“Sweet, thanks.” He handed Faith his card. “Hope got a break anytime soon? Thought she could come and catch up with the others.”
“She’s not the catch-up kind of person, you know that, Newman. Prickly as hell, and awkward in most situations that involve people.”
“Unless she’s in a bar, as it turns out,” Newman added.
“There is that. Ten minutes, and she’s on a break.”
“Thanks.”
He took the drinks back to the table, but only Brad and Macy were there, and they were pretty oblivious to anyone else, staring deep into each other’s eyes in that way that made him uncomfortable. Leaving, Newman circled the bar slowly, stopping a few times to talk to people, and eventually came out the other side in time to see Hope exit and head outside. He followed, walking behind her up the street in the cool evening air. The streets were quieter now, but she was still safe to be walking about on her own, and Newman knew her safety wasn’t the reason he followed.
“Hey.”
She kept walking past the shops, ignoring him.
“Hope.”
He watched her shoulders rise and fall, and then she turned and faced him.
“Problem?”
“Come and have a drink with us.”
“I can’t drink, I’m working.”
Her face was closed, which was pretty much her usual expression when she was in company.
“Then come sit and talk with us.”
“I’m tired, Newman. I haven’t been on my feet like this in years. I’m going down to the water for thirty minutes to sit on the bank. See ya.”
She walked away from him, like she always did, and he reacted like he always did to her. Only her , he thought. She was the only one who could make him lose reason. He followed her down the bank to the water.
“Go away.”
“Why are you so rude?”
“I like rude.”
“You’re not twelve anymore, Hope. You can’t carry it off.”
“And you can? You were rude to me earlier in the bar.”
He had been, and was ashamed of his jealous behavior.
“I’m sorry, I had no right to speak to you that way. For the record, you look beautiful, but if I’m being honest, you looked beautiful without makeup.”
He stopped close to where she stood, and she was forced to look up at him.
“You don’t have to lie to me, Newman. I’m not someone who needs to hear that kind of crap.”
The moonlight did amazing things to her face.
“I’m not lying.”
Newman cupped the back of her neck, then used his thumb to tilt her chin so that her lips were at the exact angle he wanted.
“Go away.” She sounded breathless.
“You should be nice to me, it’s my birthday.”
“I don’t do nice.”
“Try.” He lowered his head.
“Don’t.”
“Do.”
Newman brushed his lips over hers once, twice.
“Newman,” she sighed. Only then did he take her deeper. She was so goddamned sweet, his body was alive in seconds. The small sounds she made urged him on. Her hand fisted in his hair, and soon she was plastered to him like a second skin. A fact he was more than happy with.
He pulled her shirt free, then slid his palm beneath and felt the heat of her skin as he trailed his fingers up her spine. The other hand he used to cup her ass, pulling her closer, pressing her to him.
Hope was burning with lust. She ached for Newman’s wandering hand to move upward, and cup her breasts. Wanted it as much as her next breath, which, incidentally, she was struggling to draw. Pressed to his hard body, she could feel every muscle, and his desire was evident against her stomach. A wicked heat flushed her, and need drove her to her toes to get more of him.
“You smell good,” he whispered in her ear, before moving lower to kiss that spot beneath.
“Beer smells good?”
“Damn straight.”
His lips reached her chest, and then he was undoing the last buttons of her shirt. His hands pushed her tank top high, and she felt the cool air on her stomach.
“I like your bra.”
She had no idea which one she wore.
“Especially the small ducks marching across the curve of each cup.”
She forgot to think as he pulled a cup down and licked her nipple. Lightning rocketed through her. Heat spiked in her belly.
“Newman.” Hope wasn’t sure if it was a moan or a plea, but whatever it was, he responded by taking her breast into his mouth and sucking. His other hand slid under her skirt and up her thigh.
“Yes.” Hope sighed as he stroked her through the satin of her panties.
Her hands were under his shirt and moved upward, nails scraping his skin, making him shudder.
It was the sound of voices that had him stopping. He lifted his head and pulled her into his arms, holding her there until the voices had gone.
“Hope?”
He lifted her head from his chest.
“It’s okay. I know you’ve been drinking—”
“You think I kissed you, among other things, because I’ve had a couple of drinks?”
Hope took a step back when he released her, and fixed her clothes, very aware that he was watching her.
“So what was the reason in the elevator?”
“You were angry.”
“So I have to have a reason to kiss you? I can’t just think you’re seriously hot?”
Hope ignored the little jolt his words gave her, and nodded. “We both know that’s not true. Now, I have work to do. Let’s just forget this happened.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
She looked up at him. Noted the clenched jaw, narrowed eyes. His hair was no longer slicked back but standing off his head, and she realized her hands had done that, just as they’d made the creases on his shirt.
“Of course you do. For heaven’s sake, Newman, this is me. You don’t even like me.”
“What’s this then, if I don’t like you?” He took her hand and pressed it to his groin. There was no mistaking his erection.
“That was crude.” She snatched her hand back. “Stop it. You don’t behave that way. You’re always the gentleman.”
“Not always,” he muttered, advancing on her again. The look in his eyes told her he meant business, so Hope did the only thing she could think of, and ran.
Reaching the Howler, she wrenched open the door and sprinted inside, and straight into someone.
“See, I told you she had the hots for me.”
And that was all the night needed to really piss her off. Although if she was being honest, what she and Newman had just shared hadn’t pissed her off, it had transported her to a place she’d never been before.
“Excuse me, I need to get back to work. Let me go, Brodie.”
“Aww, come on, Hope. Just having a little fun. You’ve filled out nicely since you left. How about you and me dance a little?”
“Let her go, Brodie.”
The steel in Newman’s voice gave the Finlay brother second thoughts, enough so that Brodie eased his grip on Hope long enough for her to kick him hard in the shin. It’s a damn shame I’m not wearing my boots, she thought, watching him grab his leg.