Redneck Romeo

Her lips quirked. “Okay. It was a tiny bit funny.”



The waitress dropped off the pie.



Rory immediately snatched both forks. “For that lesbian hooker story, you lost pie. If you behave yourself, I might give you a little taste.” She sliced off a forkful and popped it in her mouth. “Mmm.”



He growled, “You’re gonna torture me. Makin’ sex noises while you’re eating that pie.”



“Sex noises?” she asked innocently.



“Sex noises like you’ll make when my mouth is buried in your pussy. When I’m licking up every bit of your sweet cream and then when I go back for another bite. And another because I’m positive I won’t be able to get enough of the slice of heaven between your thighs.”



Rory sliced off a huge piece of pie and held it up to his lips. “I’m gonna love hearing that deep growly voice whispering sexy things in my ear when you’re making me moan those sex noises. But for now, how about if we stop teasing each other because it’s bound to get us into all sorts of trouble in a public place.”



He grinned. That was Rory’s way of telling him he’d passed her I’ve changed test. “I agree.” He let her feed him the pie.



“So were you really in Amsterdam?”



“Yep. Wasn’t my favorite place, but I had a good time.”



“Where was your favorite place?”



“Lloret de Mar in Spain.” Dalton started talking about his travels. Then Rory told him about her experiences overseas and they completely lost track of time.



The waitress pointed out the lights were off in Dewey’s, and she showed them the door.



“First time we’ve closed down a restaurant.”



“Far more fun than closing down a bar.” He took her hand as they walked to his truck.



“I’ll definitely have a clear memory of tonight.”



At her house he left his truck running so he wouldn’t be tempted to stay, but he walked her to the gate. “Thank you for today. For all your help and hanging out. I had a great time.”



“Me too. Do you, ah, want to come in?”



“Yes.” Dalton twisted a strand of her hair around his finger. “More than anything. But I’m gonna turn around, get in my truck and go home instead.”



“Okay.”



He pressed his lips to hers. “I’m goin’.”



“Uh-huh.”



Another kiss. “Seriously.”



“I believe you.”



The sweet kisses ended and he damn near inhaled her.



Jingle raced out the doggie door and barked at them.



Dalton broke the kiss. “Helluva guard dog, Rory.”



She laughed.



“I’ll see you this week.”



Chapter Nine



Rory couldn’t believe it when Dalton waltzed into her yoga class at the community center.



She just about swallowed her tongue seeing him in a black tank top and baggy athletic shorts, his feet bare, his hair just a little too shaggy, dark stubble on his face, those damn dimples and a gleam in his ridiculously blue eyes. The man looked like a rogue pirate. A hot pirate, with thickly muscled arms and a broad chest. When he stretched his arms above his head and his shirt rode up, she noticed that sexy cut of muscle on either side of his hips. She envisioned herself dropping to her knees and following that deep line with her tongue.



And yep, she caught a glimpse of his abs. Whoa. Did he have a six-pack, an eight-pack, or my god…was that a twelve-pack of abs?



No. Fucking. Way. Now she really wanted a closer look.



The other ladies in the class were taking a serious gander at the delicious Dalton. It’d be all over town tomorrow that a macho McKay male had attended a women’s yoga class. Then again, a McKay being surrounded by swooning women wasn’t exactly news.



That thought annoyed her. Rory marched up to him and completely invaded his space. “What are you doing here?”



“Takin’ your advice. You said if I wanted to get to know you, I’d show interest in what matters to you. So I’m here ready to be bent to your will, Teach.”



“Do you have any idea what goes on in a yoga class?”



“Nope. That’s why I’m counting on you to show me all your moves.” Dalton’s gaze dropped to her mouth. “With your lips this close I’m tempted to give you one of them bully-kisses you’re so fond of.”



Rory took a step back. “Not happening. There are yoga mats in the corner. Grab one so we can get started.”



“Yes, ma’am.”



She whirled around and walked to the front of the gym. When she faced the group, Dalton flashed her a very male grin. Then she watched as Lou-Ann handed him her pink yoga mat and trotted to the back of the room to get another one for herself.



Unreal.



“Welcome, everyone. Since we have a new member in our midst tonight, I feel it’s important to go over the rules. First rule. No talking. This isn’t a social activity. Second rule. If your muscles become fatigued during a pose, drop into downward-facing dog or child’s pose. Please don’t pack up your belongings and interrupt class by leaving. Third rule. Remember to breathe.” Rory smiled at the sixteen regular class attendees. “Let’s get started.”



Tempting not to explain any of the warm-up exercises, or demonstrate the resting poses, but her class motto had always been “all who enter are welcome”.



Including the man who’s only here so he can get into your yoga pants?



Yes.



Maybe she ought to modify that motto on the flyer.



Rory sat cross-legged at the top of her mat, hands resting palms up on her thighs. She demonstrated the uji breathing technique before she segued into basic stretches.



Then they were on their feet performing sun salutations. Four sets of each series got the blood pumping and the sweat rolling. She talked them through standard standing poses. While she started the second set, her advanced students worked through backbends.



“Now we’ll move to basic triangle and work on all triangle poses before we switch to hip openers.” Rory shot a look at Dalton.



His face was bright red. Sweat coated his arms and damp rings darkened his tank top. He looked like he was in pain. But he also wore the determined look she recognized.



So she hid her smirk and kept going.



During the last round, she wandered through the class, making adjustments to individuals’ postures.



Dalton struggled—like so many did in the beginning—with the basic downward-facing dog pose.



She stopped in front of him.



He immediately dropped to his knees, breath choppy. He sent her a questioning look from beneath those thick black eyelashes.



“Watch how I get into proper position.” Rory placed her palms flat on the floor and hiked her hips up, while rolling her shoulders down and back as she dropped her heels to the floor. She spoke in a low tone. “Now breathe in for three counts and exhale for three counts.” As soon as she finished, she said, “Your turn.”



His upper body strength was impressive but he had little flexibility in those massive shoulders.



“Elongating the spine is key to flexibility in yoga. Since you can’t get your heels on the mat it’s all right to keep your knees bent. Drop your head between your arms. No, not that far. Ears by your biceps. That’s it. Now stay like that. I’ll adjust your hips.” Rory widened her stance, setting her feet beside Dalton’s hands. She flattened her palms on his lower back and pushed.



Dalton grunted.



“Feel the difference in that stretch?”



“Uh. Yeah.” His arms shook and stopped supporting his body, so when he dropped to his knees, Rory’s hands slid over his butt.



His perfectly round cowboy butt. She wanted to dig her fingernails into that hard, tight flesh. When he flexed his butt cheeks like he’d read her intentions, her hands fell away.



Dalton lifted his head and her crotch was in his face. Right at his mouth level. So close she could feel his rapid exhalations between her thighs. So close it would only take a slight tilt of her pelvis…



Their eyes met.



The hunger in his sizzling blue gaze had her retreating.



Rory strolled to her spot, trying not to imagine the rough stubble on Dalton’s face abrading the inside of her thighs. Or how she’d direct that smirking mouth exactly where she wanted it and put that sassy tongue of his to good use.



Her gaze met Dalton’s and he licked his lips. Had the man been reading her mind?



Probably. Because face it, Rory, you’re pretty damn transparent.



She shook herself out of it and worked through the final stretching exercises before instructing her students to grab their straps for cool down.



Normally savasana was her favorite part of class. Stretched out on her mat, eyes closed, remaining motionless as her mind drifted into blissful nothingness after a hard yoga workout.



But tonight, her thoughts were focused on a hunky man five mats away. A man who’d taken her suggestion about getting to know her seriously. A man it was getting harder and harder to shake off. She wrestled with the truth that she didn’t want to shake him off. She liked his attention.



People around her began to get restless—her sign savasana was over. She coaxed everyone out of the relaxation state and finished the practice in lotus position with Namaste.



The yoga group didn’t stick around to chitchat after class. Vanessa pointed to Dalton, waggled her eyebrows and mimed call me before she scooted out the door.



Leaving Rory and Dalton alone.



She wandered over. He remained in savasana on his mat. “Dalton? You all right?”



“No,” he groaned. “You wrecked me. I can’t move. I think all the muscles in my body have seized up and you’ll need to take me to the ER.” He groaned again.



“So you’re admitting yoga is hard?”



“Hell yes.” Dalton cracked an eye open. “Wasn’t there supposed to be chanting? Sitting around doin’ deep thinkin’ about life and shit?”



Rory laughed. “In some yoga disciplines there’s meditation and chanting. Not in this one.”