Chapter Seven
Travis had always known that Cara was good with dogs.
Obviously.
But he had only known that because it was her job. He’d never actually seen her work with a pooch, just as she’d never actually seen him put out a fire. But now, an hour later, Henry lay on the floor of his kitchen, his belly stretched across the cool tile, his eyes fluttering closed, as he drifted off into doggy dreamland. He was spent from the lesson.
Perfect timing.
Travis wasn’t nervous, but he wanted to make sure that Cara actually had enjoyed working with his dog before he popped his question. Judging from the progress the stubborn little guy had made in only one hour with her—he was now sitting on command most of the time—he bet she’d be game to help. Travis pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and offered her a beer.
“Or we could have a glass of wine?” she asked, her voice rising.
Travis wasn’t a wine drinker. But he knew that when a woman wanted to have a glass of wine with you, it was usually a good sign of her interest. It was even better when she brought the bottle, because she had reached into her purse and produced a pinot noir from Silver Pine.
Wait.
He wasn’t supposed to be thinking of her like that, in terms of interest. He had to narrow in on his mission—the fireman’s auction and the help he needed from her—not try to read anything into a bottle of wine, like whether it was a prelude to something more.
She’d made it clear there was nothing more.
“Let me get you a glass,” he said, reaching into a cupboard. He passed it to her, then tracked down a rarely-used corkscrew in a kitchen drawer. He reached for the bottle. But as she handed it to him, it nearly slipped from her fingers. He grabbed it quickly before it crashed to the floor in a crimson blur. Fast reflexes came in handy.
“Sorry about that. I keep meaning to get these replaced with the drop-proof variety,” she said, holding up her hands.
He laughed at her dry sense of humor. “Nah. Keep them. We’ll make it a game. You keep trying to drop things and I’ll see what I can catch. Reminds me of my football days,” he said as he unscrewed the cork.
“You’re on.” She dipped her hand into her purse, fishing around in that giant bag. She retrieved a bottle of nail polish, dangled it for a flash, then let it fall.
He lunged, grabbing it before it splattered on the floor, and clutched it in his fist. “Damn. That was impressive.”
Her eyes lit up as he dropped the nail polish into her hand. “It was. You move fast.”
“No. I meant you. Impressive how you just went for it. I didn’t think you were really going to take me up on that.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You like challenges, don’t you? I couldn’t resist.”
“I do like challenges. And you do, too. If memory serves, weren’t you the one Alycia Andrews challenged to a rousing rendition of ‘All I Want for Christmas Is You’ at the holiday party at her wine shop a few years ago?”
Cara’s eyes widened. Then she dropped her face into her hands in mock embarrassment. When she lifted her forehead, she peered at him through spread fingers. “Now you’re teasing me for my singing skills.”
He laughed deeply as he poured a glass of wine and handed it to her. “Hardly. I thought you did a damn fine job belting that out in that little Christmas singing competition, and moving your hips, too. You were always a good dancer.”
She shook her head as if she couldn’t quite believe she’d done it. But he could remember it clearly—her brazen willingness to grab a mic and sing her heart out, complete with the final finger-point-at-the-whole-damn-crowd at the end of the tune. She had a fearless side that he admired. She didn’t seem afraid of anything, and that’s how she had sung—with everything she had.
He reached inside the fridge, grabbed a bottle of beer, and opened it. “Bet you sing in the shower, too.”
She raised an eyebrow and shot him a naughty look. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Oh hell yeah. I’d like to know.”
“Do you? Sing in the shower?” she asked, turning the tables on him.
He put on a straight face, feigning intense solemnity as he joined her at the table. “No. I take my showers very seriously. I am all business,” he said, and when she laughed, he wanted to pump a fist. He wasn’t sure why he felt that way, but he sure did like making her laugh. Always had. Maybe because she had a pretty laugh, just like she had a pretty voice.
Then she surprised him by singing a line from what distinctly sounded like a Taylor Swift type tune. “That’s what I sang in the shower this morning. It was blasting on the local radio station, so I sang along.”
He raised an eyebrow and held up his beer. “Very impressed.”
She held up the glass to toast. “To showers. Music. And to well behaved dogs,” she said, eyeing Henry.
He clinked his bottle against hers. “I will drink to all of that. And speaking of dogs, and speaking of challenges. I have a special request, Cara.”
She took a swallow of the wine. “Okay, what’s the request?”
“I’m in the California Bachelor Fireman’s Auction in two weeks. I’ve done it for the last few years, and…” He paused and held up his thumb and forefinger to show a sliver of space. “I’m this close to winning first prize.”
She furrowed her brow. “You’ve never won?”
He shook his head, heaving a frustrated sigh. He forced his lips into an exaggerated pout. “It’s embarrassing.” He hung his head in pretend shame.
She patted his thigh. “There, there,” she said playfully.
But her fingers on him didn’t make him feel playful at all. They sent his mind reeling with images he was going to have to push far, far away if his plan was going to work. As his eyes strayed to her hand on his leg, he tried to buckle in his own desires. His instincts were blaring like a siren, telling him to clasp her hand, to draw her close, to turn the slightest touch from her into a whole lot more, into her wrapping those luscious legs around him, sinking down on him, and riding him right here, right now, her hair flowing down her spine as she called out his name. Great. Now he was rock hard. What was he thinking, wanting to spend more time with her to prep for the auction? Being in the same vicinity with the woman he wanted but couldn’t have was like sending someone on a diet to infiltrate the Ben & Jerry’s factory.
But hell, he wanted to win, and he had his reasons. He focused on the task at hand, doing his best to ignore the tempting memories of the other night and the repeat he wanted of it right now.
“Here’s the deal with the fireman’s auction. In addition to whatever the winning bid is for the top man, first place also gets five thousand dollars, and the prize goes to a fire-related charity of the winner’s choosing. And I want to win big to give it to the Families of Fallen Firefighters,” he said, speaking crisply so he wouldn’t choke up on why it meant so much to him.
She straightened her spine and nodded. “Of course. That’s a great charity.”
“Yeah. It is. Their support helped my mom. Their survivors’ network made a big difference for her when she was struggling, even a few years after my dad died. Some of the others who’d been through the same kind of loss helped pull her out of the depression she battled for a while there. The problem is, they’ve been hurting for a few years for funds, and this year has been particularly tough for the charity. They’ve had to cut back on the one-to-one support services for families, and on the counseling. But they’ve found a few small businesses that have put up some money, and an insurance broker has even offered to match any donations of five thousand or more. So with the prize and the match, that could make a big difference.”
He’d given money before to the cause, and while he had a nice savings account, he didn’t have the kind of stability in his job to peel off those funds all by himself. This auction was his big chance. “So I want to win the big prize and give back even more to them.” The moment bordered on solemn, as Cara fixed him with a serious stare and blinked back the start of a tear. He cleared his throat. “And I’m hoping you can help.”
“Absolutely,” she said, scooting her chair closer. His heart dared to skip a beat with the certainty of her answer. He hadn’t even shared details, and she’d already said yes. “What do you need?”
A small laugh escaped his throat. He was about to turn a serious moment into a light-hearted one, but he hoped he was talking Cara’s language. He knocked back a swallow of his beer, and then set the bottle down amidst a mess of papers and magazines on his table. “Here’s the thing. I’m pretty sure Henry can help me win first prize.”
She knit her eyebrows together. “How?”
He tipped his forehead to the sleeping puppy, curled up like a comma by the kitchen doorway. “That right there is a top-notch chick magnet,” he said, and Cara cracked up instantly, peals of laughter rippling through the evening air that drifted in from the open porch door.
“He is absolutely a chick magnet,” she agreed. “I bet when you take him for a walk in the town square, all the ladies are stopping to talk to you.”
He nodded. There was just something about a puppy that reeled in women of every age, and that canine knew how to work them with his big-brown-eyed charm and wagging tail. “My plan is this. I want to bring him on stage with me for the auction. He’s my secret weapon. We’ll be the dog and the fireman, and I’m pretty sure I can nab the top prize and give the Families of Fallen Firefighters the funds they need to keep up their work.”
“You’d be irresistible with him,” she said, in that soft, flirty tone she’d used at the club. The sound of it set his blood racing and made him shift in the chair because matters below the belt were becoming infinitely harder.
He nearly smacked his own forehead to knock some sense into it. He was walking straight into temptation. Hell, he was knocking on the damn door and begging to be tortured by this woman. She was so damn sexy and funny, and so off-limits by her own admission.
But here he was, sticking his foot in that door, asking for more. “Irresistible?”
“Very much so,” she said, then grabbed her glass. She drained the rest of her wine. He ignored his beer. He needed to drive down to Calistoga in about—he glanced at the stark black and white clock on the wall—twenty minutes.
“So I take it you need my services to make sure that your guy is ready to go on stage. That he’s perfectly behaved, and will look absolutely adorable next to you, so the women can’t resist bidding on a date with the hottest single fireman in all of California,” she said, and he squeezed his eyes shut briefly at hearing those words.
Sure, he craved challenges, but this was testing him something fierce, as she dropped compliments left and right, which made his fingers itch to grab her, pin her down, and have her again and again. And he was the idiot walking straight into it, knowing he was going to spend even more time with the one woman who’d made it patently clear she was hands-off from here on out.
Even so, he fanned the flames of the fire. “Hottest in all of California?”
She nodded, and poured more wine for herself. “You know I think that, Travis. And I’m more than happy to help you and Henry win it all.”
“The auction is in two weeks, so we’d need to do lessons more than once a week. I’m thinking we should get together every other day,” he said, reaching for a canister of gasoline and watching the flames lick the sky now.
“That sounds great,” she said as she crossed her legs, kicking a foot back and forth, all cool and casual. His eyes were drawn to her feet; he wasn’t a foot man, but every single thing about this woman was pretty, down to the blue polish on those toenails. “I’m in,” she said with a bright smile.
This was almost too easy. He’d been expecting some friction, some kind of pushback, given the lines in the sand she’d drawn at the park. He didn’t expect her to so easily say yes. But maybe she’d snuffed out her desire for him. Fine, if she could rein in the urge, he could damn well do the same. Play it cool. Keep it all on the level.
“In fact,” she added, as she ran her finger along the rim of her wineglass, “it works perfectly with the favor I wanted to ask you.”
He held out his arms wide. “Anything. You’re helping me. I’ll do anything I can.”
“Great,” she said, and took one more sip of wine. A hearty sip. A big fat fucking gulp. Hell, was she going for liquid courage? Because she’d plowed through nearly two glasses in the span of fifteen minutes, and it sure seemed like she was fonder of wine tonight than he’d remembered. “Because here’s what I want.”
She scooted her chair closer, ran a hand through her hair, then met his eyes. Her voice was both sultry and drop-dead clear as the next words fell from her glossy lips. “I want to finish what we started at the club. I want you to fuck me six ways to Sunday. I want to stop daydreaming about more sex with you and start having it.”
If he’d been doing the dishes, a plate would have slipped from his hand, shattered into shards. If he were strolling along the sidewalk, he’d have stumbled in surprise. Instead, he scrubbed his hand over his jaw, narrowed his eyes, and said, “Come again?”
He had to be hearing things.
Her blue eyes sparkled, a naughty look in them as her lips curved upward. “Yes. That. Coming again and again.”
He’d walked right into a pun. “Now?” he asked, still in shock from the way she’d echoed her words from the dog park, the thing she swore they couldn’t do. This had to be a joke. Maybe a bet. Maybe she was giving him a taste of his own medicine from the other night.
“Sure. That’d be a good start. And maybe the next day and the next and the next. But not forever. Just for, say, a few weeks? Up until the auction would probably be sufficient. We could even line up this fling with the dog training.”
He peered around the corner, leaning back in his chair, as if he were scanning for a candid camera ‘gotcha’ moment. “Is Megan here? Is Jamie? Is this some kind of payback?”
She shook her head. “No. Why? You don’t want to have a fling with me?”
He nodded vigorously. “Oh, I want it. I want that more than you can even know. But are you for real? Is this a joke? Or a prank?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I ask you to sleep with me, and you think I’m pranking you? Give me more credit than that,” she said with a huff.
He reached for her hands, laced his fingers through hers. “I will give you all the credit in the world. Just tell me, is this a real question?”
She nodded, and there was no teasing in her eyes, no playing around, just a sweet, vulnerable, and honest look. “I want you,” she whispered, “so much it drives me crazy. But I know you don’t do relationships. This is no commitment, no dating, no fuss, no muss. Two weeks while we train Henry, and then we’re done.” She wiped one palm against the other to show it would be a clean break at the end.
“So you want dog training and sex?” he asked, still sure he was hearing things—like, his wildest fantasies coming true.
“Yes. The perfect combo.”
“Okay. And not that I’m protesting, because let me make it clear, my answer is yes, fuck yes, and absofuckinglutely yes, but why the change?”
She let go of his hands to stand up, then sank back down, straddling him. Oh, hell. There went any breathing room in his jeans. His dick did its best approximation of a flagpole.
She cupped his shoulders, looking him square in the eyes. Being this close to her was dizzying, and an absolute rush. “Because, Travis, I can’t get you out of my head. Or my body. I went on a date the other night with the nicest guy around. I think there could be something real with him,” she said, and he bristled and nearly breathed fire. The image of her on a date with someone else made his gut twist. “But all I could think about when I was out with him was sleeping with you and all the ways I want to have sex with you.” His head was fever hot. A tremor of lust slammed into him, and he grasped her waist, digging his fingers into her hipbones.
“There are so many ways I want to have you, Cara,” he whispered, hot and rough against the delicate skin of her throat, savoring the way gooseflesh rose instantly on her skin.
“And that’s what I need. You gave me the best sex of my life, starting way back when we were in high school, which is crazy in and of itself. But so it goes, and no one compares to you. Not that I have a ton of experience, but the way I see it is, I will never be able to move on and have the dream—the white picket fence, and the family, and all those things I want—if I’m still thinking of how good it is with you.”
“Don’t forget about the time after college graduation on the picnic table in the woods by the river. And then that night three years ago when you were back in town for Alycia’s holiday party, and I kissed you under the mistletoe at the party after you sang that song, and you pulled me into a coat closet and insisted on having me right then and there,” he said.
She dropped her face into her hands. “See? That’s my point,” she muttered, and then looked up at him. “All those times are messing with my head. And I can’t seem to connect with anyone else because I’m hung up on you. So the only conclusion I can come to is, if I’m ever going to meet Mr. Right, I need to get Mr. Wrong out of my system.”
Sweeter words were never uttered by a woman. Because this was a dream come true. Cara was his fantasy girl, but she was more than a fantasy. He’d had her, and he knew just how good it was when the two of them were together. He slipped his fingers under her shirt. She trembled at his touch and his hands traveled north, seeking out those wondrous breasts, which damn near seemed to be calling his name. “So you need to fuck me to stop wanting to fuck me?”
She leaned her head back in a yes, her throat long and inviting. So feminine, so enticing, and so primed for hot kisses. He blazed a trail up the column of her throat as she answered him with the hottest words ever: “Fuck me hard, and fuck me slow, and fuck me wild.”
That sounded more like a recipe for wanting more sex, but Travis wasn’t going to protest. He was dying to slide into her wet heat, to feel her body take him deep and shudder beneath him. “And that’s all you want?”
“That’s all I want. Well, I do like it when you get all bossy and tell me what to do, so I want that too,” she said, pulling back to shoot him a mischievous look as she trailed her fingertips down his chest. His breath hitched. “I want your body, and I want to walk away when we’re done.”
He yanked her closer, her chest slamming against his as he nibbled on her earlobe, drawing out a moan. Then he bit down. She yelped lightly, and he soothed out the sting with his tongue. “You can have anything you want with me. You name it. You tell me how you want to get me out of your system, and I will deliver it,” he said, and flicked open the button on her jean shorts. She gasped as he tugged down the zipper. “But first, you’re going to strip for me. So stand up and take these off.”
She scooted away from him, kicking off her sandals then dipping her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts.
“Take them off slowly as you look at me. Don’t rush a damn thing. I want to know that you’re undressing just for me. Show me how much you want this,” he instructed, leaning forward, parking his elbows on his thighs as he savored the gorgeous sight before him. Cara, stripping in his kitchen, giving him that wild look that undid him. Like she’d done at the club. Like she did at the Panting Dog all the times he bumped into her there. Like she’d done every moment they’d been together. When they were alone, she ditched the fun, sweet, quirky hometown girl she also was, and turned into this naughty woman who craved dirty sex with him.
“You sure you want them off all the way?” she asked, tilting her head and batting those eyelashes.
“Positive.”
“Like this?” She inched one side down over her hip, a sliver of her panties peeking out. Dark pink. Sinfully hot.
“More. All the way off.”
“If you say so.”
“I do say so. Show me what you wore for me.”
She stopped undressing and gave him a chiding look. “How do you know I wore something just for you?”
“Because you came here to seduce me. You came here with a plan. You were armed with a proposition you knew I couldn’t resist. And I bet you chose your weapons wisely,” he said, arching an eyebrow as he reached his fingers to the patch of pink lace that she’d revealed. He hooked his thumb underneath and brushed the pad against her hipbone, watching as she drew a sharp breath. “All the way off, now. Let me see.”
“Tell me if my weapons work at disarming you, Travis. Tell me if they make you want to take me right now and throw me down on your bed,” she said as she pushed her shorts over her hips, down to her thighs…and oh holy fucking hotness.
His dick pounded against his jeans, and he stopped moving. Just stared at her panties. They were pink, black, lacy, and so damn enticing. His throat was parched. He lowered his head, bending to her waist so he could brush his lips against the fabric. A delicious moan fell from her mouth to his ears. He ran his finger between her legs. She was so wet that the pads of his fingers were damp. A landslide of want tumbled through his body.
“Cara, you’re going to need to wear sexy lingerie every day for the next few weeks, because it drives me absolutely wild. Everything you do does.”
She bit her lip, then said in a sexy, husky voice, “That’s exactly why I wore them.”
He tugged her shorts off the rest of the way, and she stepped out of them.
“But let me make one thing clear,” he said.
“Yes?”
“I’m not taking you on the bed. You didn’t come to me with this proposition so I could hold your hand like a blushing schoolboy and walk you back to my bedroom, then dim the lights, put on soft music, and do it all slow and gentle.”
“You’re right. I didn’t come to you for that.”
“You came to me because you know we’ve never bothered to wait for beds,” he said, running his hands down her bare legs. “And if you want to get me out of your system, it’s going to happen everyplace but the bedroom. Get on my table. We’ll start there.”
He shoved the magazines and papers in one swift move, letting them tumble to the floor. Henry lifted his head in curiosity, then rose and trotted out of the kitchen as if he were giving them their privacy. Perfect. Travis picked up Cara and set her on the edge of the table. Then he slid his hands under her ass and inched off those panties, his breath catching in his chest and all the blood in his body diverted to his dick once more as he watched her laid bare before him. Her beautiful bare pussy glistened with desire, ready for him.