Gotta Have It

Angel.

The sound of his old nickname for her stirred Abby inexplicably. She’d forgotten he used to call her that because she was such a Goody Two-shoes.

She stood there with her hand thrust out, feeling like a fool and not knowing how to gracefully retract it. She had the oddest sensation that if she just stretched her hand out far enough she could caress that night ten years ago, touch the girl she had once been and pull her back from making the terrible mistake of sending him away.

Fanciful, decried the critic in her head. You can’t recapture the past.

Grab him, whispered her long-buried desire. Make a new future.

And there lay the crux of her predicament. Safety on one side, passion on the other and Abby trapped firmly in the middle, immobilized.

Durango sized her up with one long, lingering glance that made her feel completely naked. She didn’t like feeling vulnerable. She didn’t like feeling out of control. And he made her feel both of these things.

Her nose itched.

Thank heavens, she’d taken an antihistamine on the drive up, even if it did make her mouth all cottony. It was better than sneezing her head off.

“After all these years, you still remember me,” he said.

“Of course she remembers you,” Tess babbled. “She still has sex dreams about you and—”

Abby trod on Tess’s instep. Shh.

“Ow!” Tess glared and hopped around on one foot, grossly exaggerating the slight injury.

Abby sent her a look that said, serves you right for interfering in my love life.

Durango’s grin widened. “And you were going to be satisfied with just shaking my hand? You haven’t changed a bit, Angel. Still holding back. Still keeping your emotions under wraps.”

“I don’t think that’s…” Abby began, but got no further.

“Come ’ere.” He strode forward, encircled her in a bear hug and lifted her off her feet.

Oh, my.

Contact with his hard, masculine body threw her into a tailspin. Her breasts were smashed flat against his broad, honed chest. He smelled delightfully of wind and sun and leather.

His muscles rippled as he squeezed her tight. His hair tickled her ear. His chin made contact with her cheek and the slight scrape of beard stubble shoved her long-dormant libido into overdrive.

She wanted him.

Badly.

Abby froze. She remembered now, with distinct clarity, why she hadn’t taken his side all those years ago when everyone in Silverton Heights had turned against him.

She’d been too afraid.

The strength of his life force was just too overwhelming, his passion too raw, his intensity too intimidating for her to handle. She had been the good girl with the stark dread of ending up bad, just like her incorrigible mother.

Durango kept holding her. His big laugh rumbled intoxicatingly in her ears, his ebony eyes sparkling with devilment, his exhilarating scent blinding her to any other smell.

No.

She would not allow herself to get swept away by the force of his energy. She would just wait him out. Eventually he would have to put her feet back on the ground.

It was like waiting out a hurricane.

He just kept standing there. Holding her.

Abby didn’t move. She most certainly did not hug him in return, but his embrace transported her back in time.

In her mind’s eye, she saw the sexually repressed young girl she had once been longing to explore the red-hot passion surging through her veins but was too scared to act. That’s why she’d kept fantasizing about Durango all these years. Because he was the flame she hadn’t been brave enough to extinguish.

At last, Durango set her down and stepped away to eye her once more.

“You look amazing,” he said huskily.

She dropped her gaze. So do you, she yearned to say but prudently murmured, “Thank you.”

“You still living in Phoenix?” His face was lively with interest, his body language compelling.

“Uh-huh.”

“She’s still living in her father’s house.” Tess rolled her eyes. “Of course, she was getting married, but that deal sort of fell through. The groom ditched her for a stripper on their wedding day. Thank heavens. Ken was all wrong for her.”

“Ken Rockford?” Durango cleared his throat.

At the private high school in Silverton Heights that they’d all three attended, Durango and Ken had been archenemies, with Ken the class president and football quarterback to Durango’s rebel without a cause, smoking in the boys’ room.

Abby nodded but didn’t look at him. Gee thanks, Tess, for making things so much more awkward.

Durango snorted but said nothing. An uncomfortable silence fell.

“I’m Tess, by the way.” Tess stepped forward to shake his hand. “Remember me? I was away at boarding school when you and Abby were dating, but we met at your father’s annual Christmas party that year.”

“Didn’t you used to be a blonde?” he asked.

“Yep, and a brunette before that and once I did the tricolor blond-brunette-red-hair thing. So I guess you could say I was a calico.” She shrugged. “I’m not like Abby who’s had the same tame hairstyle all her life. I get bored easily.”

Durango laughed. “I like you, Tess.”

“I like you too, Durango.”

Dammit, was Tess flirting with him? And criticizing her hairdo to boot? Abby experienced a flick of jealousy so hot and quick it startled her.

“Are we going to do this vortex thing or not?” she snapped, irritated with herself because she sounded jealous.

“Sure, sure.” Durango nodded. “Who’s calling shotgun?”