Rock Me All Night

“Of me?”

“I guess. There’s something about you, Jack Montrose, that makes me wish…”

“What?”

“For something experience has taught me doesn’t exist.”

He didn’t want to know what that thing was. There was a sadness in her voice and in her eyes that made him want to pull her into his arms and promise her he’d never let her feel that way again. And he knew that he wasn’t the kind of man who could really make promises like that. Dammit. He knew then that this coffee thing was a mistake, and one he wouldn’t repeat. Because Lauren wasn’t like the women he’d dated in the past. She wasn’t going to be satisfied with only six months, and for the first time in his life he wondered if he would be.

Lauren ordered a chai, and Jack ordered regular coffee and added a little cream to it. An awkward silence filled the space between them. She didn’t know what to say to him. They’d only just met and yet she felt as if she’d known him forever.

Lauren toyed with her spoon until Jack reached across the table and covered her hand with his. His hand was big and warm. His nails were buffed and square—nicer looking than hers, because despite her mother’s lectures, Lauren still bit them. She was a little embarrassed and thought she should pull her hand away.

“Nervous?” he asked.

His voice seemed even deeper in the early morning hour. He wore an Icelandic cable-knit sweater and a pair of jeans so faded and soft that they clung to his thighs. She wished she’d slid in beside him on the bench seat in the booth instead of playing it safe. She wanted to be cuddled next to his big frame. To lean against his shoulder and just listen to him talk.

“No. You’re just a guy and I already got your number.”

He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles before stroking the center of her palm. Little tingles of awareness spread upward, making her shift restlessly on the bench.

“Just a guy. That’s harsh. How many guys have picked you up after work and taken you to a classy joint like this one for coffee?”

Lauren glanced around the diner. It had character. The chrome-and-Formica tables and vinyl-padded seats were never going to grace the pages of any style magazine. But she liked it. “This place isn’t that bad.”

“What about the guy?”

She shifted her hand in his grip and held his large one in hers, palm up. She traced the lines on his palm with her free hand, keeping her gaze firmly away from Jack’s stormy one that seemed to see too much.

“Lauren?”

“The guy’s not bad either.” She dropped his hand and wrapped both of hers around her hot teacup to rid herself of all connection to Jack. He was disturbing to her on too many levels.

“What’s the problem then?”

God, she was a mess. She should have gone on her mother’s show. “Girls Who Can’t Trust Their Own Instincts.” It would probably be a ratings boon, and people across the country would give advice on why she shouldn’t be sitting in this booth with Jack Montrose.

“It’s just…this is odd. Why did you call me tonight?”

“I want to get to know you better.”

“How much better?”

“Naked,” he said, lifting one eyebrow and gazing straight through her to her soul.

She wanted to see him naked, too. He probably had an all-over tan, and she could tell from the cut of his sweater and jeans that there wasn’t any spare fat on his body. “Well, that’s to the point.”

He leaned across the table, all possessive male intent on keeping the advantage. Another shiver slithered down her spine and she leaned toward him. Their faces were inches apart. She felt the brush of his breath against her cheek.

“You were hedging toward it too slowly for my tastes.”

“I’m not a speedy person.”

“I am.”

His gaze fastened on her mouth. She licked her lips and heard him groan. “Then you should try out our Mile of Men.”

“No, thanks.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want a strange woman picking me off the line. I want you.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Who knows? Tell me about you, Lauren. What do I make you wish for?”

She sank back against the chair and took a sip of her tea. “I thought you’d forgotten that.”

“I forget nothing.”

“Really?”

“Truly. Photographic memory. It’s a pain in the neck sometimes.”

“Like me?” she asked. Anything to avoid discussing her ill-timed remark earlier. What had she been thinking?

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Nah, but you’d think it.” She should finish her tea, say thank you and get the hell out of here before she said anything else she’d regret revealing to him.

“Not about you. Tell me.”

“Do we know each other well enough to exchange secrets?” she asked, stalling.

“I want to see you naked, so I think we have to swap secrets.”

“No quickie one-night thing?”

“Would you be happy with that?” he asked.

She thought about it. A one-night stand wasn’t her thing, but Jack teased at something deep inside her that she was afraid to let out. Something oddly vulnerable that all the men who’d loved and left her had damaged, and she didn’t want to risk that again. And a one-night stand—well, that was about lust, not about emotions and scarred souls.

“Lauren?”

“No. I want more than that with you.”

He lifted her hand from the table and brushed his lips over the back of her hand. “I knew it. Trust me.”