Always the Designer, Never the Bride (8 page)

When she opened them again, Audrey jumped to find J. R. standing next to her.

"Smoke?" he asked, extending an open package of candy cigarettes in her direction.

Her first inclination had been to swat him for scaring her, but he looked almost adorable, so she shrugged and took one of them from the pack and held it loosely between her lips.

"Well?" she said with one eyebrow arched.

"Well, what?"

"Got a light?"

J. R. Hunt unexpectedly charmed her with a wave of laughter that sounded as sweet as church bells on a distant hill. And Audrey didn't have the good sense to listen to the other bells—
the alarm bells—
sounding off in her head.

"How about you take me for a ride on that motorcycle of yours," she suggested.

And five minutes later, Audrey lifted her petticoat, tossed one leg over the bike and hiked herself up to the back of the seat. With her cotton poodle bag pressed into his back and her arms tucked beneath J. R.'s warm leather jacket, Audrey held on tight as they flew over the hill and rode straight out of Sandy Springs.

"It's one of my favorites," J. R. said from atop the picnic table where he and Audrey had parked near the mill in Roswell. "I bought this bike and restored her with the intent of resale, but I just couldn't bring myself to let her go."

"Her?" Audrey repeated. "I sense a bit of a love affair going on here."

"You could say that."

"Does she have a name?" she teased. "Tell the truth. You've given her a name, haven't you?"

He waved her off at first. How could he admit to her that he really had dubbed his bike with the moniker of his all-time favorite female? Then, on a spontaneous whim, he shrugged and confessed.

"Tillie."

"Tillie!" she echoed with a laugh. "Tillie Harley-Davidson Hunt. I like it." After a moment, she coyly asked, "So? Out with it. Who's Tillie?"

"My family's cocker spaniel when Dev and I were growing up. I have very fond memories of my summers with Tillie."

Audrey's laughter twirled around him like a lasso, and it snagged him by the heart suddenly, tightening until he could hardly breathe.

"She's a '57 Sportster," he managed, shoving through to another subject beyond the living doll seated below him on the bench of the picnic table. "That was the year Harley-Davidson introduced the Sportster. I guess I've put six grand into restoring her, but she's a fine bike now."

Audrey pulled the candy cigarette he'd given her from the zippered compartment of her bag and lifted it toward him. "Well. Here's to Tillie," she said in a sort of a toast before she took a bite out of it and fed him the other half.

The moon hung low in the midnight blue Georgia sky, casting a silverish glow over Audrey that made her look a little like a porcelain doll in her petticoat and angora sweater. Her platinum hair turned to pewter in the moonlight as she stared out into the sky. Then, without so much as a glance in his direction, she sighed.

"You're doing it again, aren't you?"

"What?" But he knew what. And yes, he was staring at her again. He couldn't seem to help himself.

"You're watching me."

"Yeah," he admitted softly. "I am. How do you know?"

Audrey turned around and narrowed her brown-gold eyes. "I can feel it."

"Can you?" he asked, and he reached forward and sifted his fingers into the hair at the base of her ponytail.

She stunned him a little when she moved into his touch, and she closed her eyes for a moment as he tightened his grip on the back of her head. Vowing not to let a moment like this one pass, he dropped from the tabletop down to the bench beside her in one quick swoop, his fingers tangling into her hair until he pulled the ribbon and the cloth band clean out of it. Digging both hands into her loose silky hair, he pulled her face gently toward him and pressed his lips to hers.

They were soft and pliable, and she tasted like frosting. Wondering if she would let him, J. R. deepened the kiss. Slowly, cautiously. It was a little like stepping into a caldron of warm, simmering water, and J. R. could think about nothing more than the pleasure of plunging completely into it for a swim.

With no forewarning whatsoever, Audrey inhaled sharply. And then she gave him the biggest surprise of his adult life when she slid her arms around his neck and pulled him toward her enthusiastically.

J. R. thought he heard the distant sound of . . .
angel's harps?

"She's a nightmare. As Kat often reminds me, there's absolutely no chance of actually pleasing her. And yet I continue to try because . . . well, because I need her."

"Look, you're a talented girl," J. R. commented as he stood over the sketches scattered across the table before them. "Certainly, there's another client that can offer you what Kim Renfroe can, minus all the drama."

"Sure there is," Audrey replied, sinking into the chair beside him. "Angelina could ask me to design a wedding gown, and then make the covers of every magazine in the known world wearing it."

J. R. caressed the side of her face with his thumb, tenderly holding her chin in the palm of his hand. As Audrey looked up into his light eyes, a surge of electricity shot through her.

What was it about this one guy that just melted her down into a walking cylinder of warm liquid mush? Audrey had never been the type to kiss someone she barely knew. But one touch of his hand to her face, one crooked smile, and she had fallen to pieces! No man had ever had this kind of effect on her before, and it had a strange impact. She felt part powerless and part empowered.

Get ahold of yourself, Audrey. He's just a boy.

"There's no gray area for you, is there?"

"I'm sorry. What?"

"There's black, and there's white. No in-betweens."

She shrugged slightly, trying to smile, but it didn't seem to reach the surface.

"I suppose you're right," she replied, leaning forward with her chin in her hands, elbows propped on the edge of the table. "I'm sure there are lots of other opportunities out there for a designer trying to make her mark. But none of them came across my path. Kim Renfroe walked right up to my door and knocked. It was like some sort of . . . miracle."

J. R. pressed his hand on her shoulder, then he took hold of it and guided her to her feet. As she stood there facing him, hoping with all her strength that he might kiss her again—but knowing she shouldn't let him—Audrey swooned slightly. She tilted toward him, completely against her conscious will, and his arms engulfed her as she did.

They fit together so perfectly, and she nuzzled her face into the curve of his neck where it fell as naturally as one glove resting in the palm of another. He stroked her hair and leaned his head down toward her, his warm breath tickling her ear as he whispered her name.

Even as she moaned softly, Audrey thought,
This is very bad. What am I doing?

And yet she raised her face toward him just the same. Closing her eyes, she allowed J. R. to kiss her. Before she knew it, her thoughts had descended into completely unfamiliar places; and if he'd have asked her, she would have gone anywhere with him. Absolutely anywhere, doing absolutely anything.

"Audrey," he repeated. "I have to go."

A diamond-tipped needle screeched across the record of the night, and Audrey looked up at him.

Go? You have to GO?

"This is a very dangerous attraction we've got going here," he told her. "Despite my basest instincts, I'm a smart enough guy to know that there's a fork in the road right now. And I'm going to choose the high one."

Yes. Take the high road,
Audrey thought.
Thank you. Good boy.

I hate the high road.

"And you need to get some sleep before Kim arrives in the morning."

"Yes." It was all she could muster.

"Tomorrow is going to be a very big day for you, angel."

She nodded. "Yes."

"I'm betting on you."

Audrey managed to push a smile up to her tingling lips.

J. R. grabbed his jacket from the arm of one of the chairs in the sitting room and headed straight for the door. When he opened it and turned back toward her, Audrey imagined herself flying across the room and leaping into his arms. Instead, however, she remained firmly planted.

"See you tomorrow?"

She nodded. Again.

Just hang on. He's almost gone. Don't do anything stupid. Just stay strong and don't make a fool of yourself. He's—

When J. R. smiled and extended his arms toward her, Audrey instantly stalked across the room and fell into them. She slipped her arms around his neck and pressed his head toward hers until their lips met. When they parted, she felt breathless and faint, and she almost heard the audible
click!
as their eyes locked together.

"Well, isn't this a fine how-do-you-do?"

They both reeled toward the corridor where Russell and Kat stood there staring at them.

"Audrey, I was worried sick!" Kat exclaimed. "You just disappeared without a word."

"I-I'm sorry. J. R. took me for a ride on his motorcycle, and we kind of . . . lost track."

"Well, thank goodness you're all right. Why didn't you answer your phone? I didn't know what to think."

"But now we do," Russell cracked, shooting J. R. a boys' club kind of grin.

"No, you don't," J. R. snapped. "Let's go. These ladies need to get some sleep."

Russell leaned down and pecked Kat's lips. "Had a real bonzer bash getting to know you, Kit-Kat," he told her. "See you tomorrow?"

"Absolutely."

Russell looked at Audrey and winked. "Glad you're safe. Relatively."

Before she could answer, J. R. snagged Russell's arm and dragged him down the hall.

The door had barely latched before Kat moved in on Audrey. "Spill!"

"You first," she said as she returned to the table and began pulling the sketches together into a neat pile. "You and Russell Walker. That's an interesting and unexpected pairing."

She melted down into a string of giggles. "Isn't it?"

"So tell me what happened. You two looked like dates at the senior prom."

"It felt a little like that," she said, crawling into one of the dining chairs and tucking her feet under her. "We couldn't stop talking, Audrey. After we left you at the bowling alley, we went for a walk, and he told me all about Australia and losing his family."

"He lost his family?"

"His parents and two brothers," she said, wide-eyed. "In a car crash."

Audrey sat down in the adjacent chair, reaching over and touching Kat's knee. "That's awful!"

"I know. He was only sixteen. That's when he came to America. Some photographer discovered him, and he did some modeling. But he lived in a one-bedroom apartment in New York City for two years with five roommates, and then he was homeless for almost a year."

"Homeless?"

"I know, but after that is when he got his first movie role and his career took off." Kat sighed and looked at the sketches in front of Audrey.

"Speaking of careers taking off, do you want to see what I have ready for Kim?"

"No."

Audrey blinked at her. "No?"

"No. Not until you tell me what led up to that lip-lock we walked up on."

"Oh. That."

"Yes, that. Audrey, for as long as I've known you, I've never seen that side of you."

"Well, I hope you got a good look," she said. "It was a momentary lapse of focus. It won't happen again."

I hope. That boy just . . . brings out . . . something . . . HEAT.

"That's a shame," Kat remarked.

"I don't know what came over me tonight. Maybe it's just the pressure that's been building. Maybe I just needed to let off a little steam."

"Or create some."

Audrey dropped her head into both hands. The groan that rose in her throat turned into a sort of growl, and she peered at Kat through her fingers. "It
was
kinda steamy," she admitted. "He is so hot, Kat."

"He really is."

"Oh, and he's got this unbelievable tattoo."

"Tattoo!"