Travis

Excitement, worthy of a teenaged geek about to date the head cheerleader, tingled through me as I found myself in the parking lot of Valentine’s a full thirty minutes early. A couple of other cars occupied the parking lot, but either the lunch crowd hadn’t arrived or she didn’t do a large midday business.

My steps slowed as I approached the heavy wooden doors. Just beyond that entrance I would find the woman who’d been on my mind nonstop over the past several hours. It was no use reminding myself that I had no business being here. I knew that, yet here I was.

Christine’s voice was like a siren’s call.

I couldn’t ignore it.

The moment she had crossed my path, everything and everyone else seemed to fade into obscurity. Even the search for the woman who’d once been the most important person in my life. I didn’t understand it, but I was powerless in the face of it.

The brass handle was warm from the midday sun. Drawing a fortifying breath, I pulled the door open and stepped inside.

She was sitting at one of the tables off to the side, concentrating on a red laptop computer. My heart rate picked up a bit, as I let my eyes trail along the curves beneath a form-hugging pale pink tank, tucked into another pair of low-riding blue jeans. One leg was folded beneath her on the chair; a sandal rested on the floor next to her. Purple-tipped toes moved in rhythm to the jukebox music.

Captivated, I tipped back my Stetson and lingered against the doorway, watching her. And because I was watching her, I knew the instant she became aware of my presence. Her hand hovered over the keyboard then she pulled it back and sat motionless for a moment. Finally, she angled a look over her shoulder to meet my scrutiny.

Her own gaze swept a fiery path down my body, then back up again and she greeted me with a leisurely smile that steamed my blood. “Have you been there long? I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

* * *

Christine

With lazy movements, he took off his hat and set it on the end of the bar, holding my eyes with his own as he sauntered across the room.

“No hardship.”

When he stood directly in front of me, well inside my bubble of personal space, I had to resist the sudden urge to lean in and kiss that incredibly sensuous mouth. Then thoughts of resisting temptation faded to nothing as he took the initiative.

He leaned closer, paused, then finished his approach. I lifted my face, my eyelids heavy, my breath hanging up in my throat. The first brush of his lips was subtle, a butterfly hovering. Only our lips touched. It was a relatively chaste kiss, but my reaction to it was anything but. I steadied myself with my hands on his waist as little zings of pure wow factor traveled to my brain.

He deepened the kiss only slightly, but lingered with his lips on mine. His hands slid up my arms to cup my bare shoulders, his thumbs drawing tiny circles which sent flashes of electricity rocketing to all the appropriate places. When he drew away, I moaned in protest. My grip tightened on his waist, willing his mouth to return to mine. He eased back another inch, running his hands down my arms to my hands, squeezing lightly before breaking the contact.

“What was that?” I whispered.

He touched a finger to my nose. “If you have to ask, I must not have done it right.”

I laid my fingertips against my lips. “Oh, no,” I breathed. “You did it right.” Maybe a little too right, considering I no longer maintained the upper hand in the encounter.

His eyes lit on my fingers and his roguish grin faded into a look of pure physical hunger which painted fiery brushstrokes of need into my brain. I wasn’t used to needing. But my pulse skipped into high gear with the certainty he’d intentionally shown me his hunger, and just maybe that meant he was feeling as off-balance by whatever was happening between us as I was.

“Fact is, Bluebell, I’ve wanted to do that since about two seconds after you called me a jackass.” The playful grin returned. “Thought I’d get that first one out of the way, so it’s not hanging there between us anymore.”

I felt a little dizzy. “And now that you have?”

He tipped his head and slid a glance over my lips. “I’d like to go back for seconds at some point,” he said softly. “Would that be a problem for you?”

“I’d say there’s a good chance I won’t have a problem with that. In fact…” I pushed my hair behind my ear, leaning toward him. I froze, stepped back and looked up. “What did you just call me?”

Travis winced. “Bluebell. Bad habit of mine, so I’m told. Nicknames.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I remind you of an ice cream brand?”

He shrugged and then smiled one of those devastating, toe-curling, dripping-with-desire smiles. I felt myself salivating and it had nothing to do with lunch.