Fast, Furious and Forbidden

But he didn’t believe for a moment Cardin had him out here to talk about his plans for his property. “You’re welcome to help, but I gotta know. What’s behind the offer?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, affecting a frown that raised his suspicions not already at full mast.

“What do you want from me, Cardin?” he asked, taking hold of the lip of the can and spinning it out of the way, leaving the space between them filled only with a tension that lived and breathed. “Because I can’t imagine it’s the same thing I want from you—no matter the message you delivered with the corn.”

She licked her lips as she looked away, lifted her chin as she looked back. “If you take me up on my offer, you’ll find out, won’t you?”

Trey pulled in a deep breath, blew out a sigh. Her rules, he reminded himself. Her rules. And since he wasn’t getting anywhere today…“What about your hours here? Don’t you work pretty much full time?”

“I do, but I have connections.” Her smile punched him in the gut, and he was already aching. “The boss won’t mind scheduling around me.”

In that case, he wasn’t going to say no. “You wanna start tomorrow? I figured I’d tackle the outbuildings first. See what’s worth selling. Burn the rest, and haul what won’t burn to the dump.”

“Sure. I’ll talk to Jeb about using his truck. He gets a kick out of driving my Mini.”

Trey tried to picture the wide shoulders, six feet two inches, and prominent paunch of Cardin’s grandfather behind the wheel of her red Mini Cooper convertible and had not a bit of luck. “That I’d pay to see.”

“Then I’ll get him to quote you a price.”

Funny girl. He took a step toward her. “Say eight o’clock then? Or do you need more beauty sleep than that?”

“I’m okay on the beauty sleep, don’t you think?”

Cocky girl. A second step. “Could be you’ve had too much already. Could be an early morning would be good for you. Say…seven?”

“If I didn’t have so far to drive, we could get started at six.”

Brave girl. He took a third. “You looking to spend the night?”

“I might consider it,” she said, wetting her lips—and causing his head to blow a fuse.

Fuses elsewhere were inches from overload. “I’ve been at the track since I got here. I’m not sure there’s a mattress worth sleeping on at the house, but I do have a second sleeping bag in my gear.”

“Sounds great. We can stack them and spread them out. Or even zip them together.”

“Don’t toy with me, sweetheart.” Another step, and their thighs brushed. “I might think you’re actually of a mind to see to our unfinished business.”

“Do we have unfinished business?” she asked, backing away.

He followed. She stayed. “Cardin? Toying?”

“Now that you mention it, there is something I’ve always wanted to ask you.”

“So ask me.” He was willing to give her any answer she wanted as long as it meant he could touch more of her, and do so with something other than his denim-covered thighs.

“It’s about Tater’s kegger.”

“What about it?” As if he didn’t know.

“When I saw you…” She let the sentence trail and backed into the rear wall of the ice house.

“With Kim?”

She nodded. “What were you thinking?”

Hands at his hips, he snorted. “There wasn’t much thinking going on there.”

“I know that, but I’ve always wondered if your mind wasn’t on me…instead of Kim.”

What was he supposed to say to that? Admit the truth? Tell her that he had trouble remembering that Kim had been there at all? That his mind saw only the look of fascination that had been on her face? That even now he could feel how firm her breasts, how hard her nipples had felt against his chest?

“I’m thinking about you now. That’s all that matters.” He pressed his body to hers finally—finally!—raising her hands and pinning them to the wall. Then he lowered his head and nuzzled his cheek to her jaw, finding her earlobe and nipping it, nipping it again when she groaned.

“It’s softer than I thought it would be. Your beard stubble.”

The last time they’d been this close, he’d been fresh from the shower. “I need to shave.”

“No. Don’t. Not until I get a chance to feel more.”

This time Trey was the one to groan. Two sleeping bags zipped together. Her skin smelling like the sun. Crap on a pinhead, and he was supposed to wait? “Are you talking about now? Or are you talking about tonight?”

“I’m talking about anytime you want me.”

Chapter 4

IF CARDIN WASN’T CAREFUL, kissing Trey Davis was going to become her favorite pastime, and she would forget all the other things she needed his help to accomplish. But right now? All she wanted was this kiss.

Like the one in the Corley trailer, this one wasn’t perfect. It couldn’t be; it was stolen, desperate, next to a Dumpster against the ice house’s back wall. Anyone could come along at any moment…

She increased the pressure of her lips on his, pulling him in, needing him nearer to have her way. His mouth was warm, tasting of butter and salt and yeasty beer. His hands holding hers above her head were possessive and strong, and being his captive thrilled her.

He angled his head in one direction, she angled hers the other, fitting against him to deepen the tangle of their tongues, the crush of their lips. The heat deepened, too, as did the beating of hummingbird wings in her belly.

He saw to the close fit of everything else; the threading of their fingers, her hands pressed to the wall, the in and out weaving of their thighs, their flush torsos. She felt as if she was the tiniest thing beneath him, hiding in the shadow of his shoulders, disappearing behind his breadth.

He felt like hard work, and smelled like clean clothes and fresh country air. He was everything a girl could want in a guy, and more than most would get. He was decent, honest, a good man. She’d wanted him since high school, and was close to admitting she had been a little in love with him all this time.

She nuzzled his ear, whispered, “Trey?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you marry me?”

TREY JUMPED BACK AS IF Cardin had jabbed him with a cattle prod. Not exactly the response she’d hoped for, but then he hadn’t given her time to explain.

“That didn’t come out exactly right,” she heard herself saying, though she supposed even had she used the words she’d carefully thought through and planned for her proposal, it would still have been an unexpected shock.

“I goddamn hope not,” Trey said, his hands at his hips, the furrow of his frown deep enough to get lost in. “Marriage is the last thing I’m looking for.”