His Southern Temptation (13 page)

“I’m not asking you to decide right now. Just promise me you’ll keep an open mind.” His words were a soft caress against her skin, in perfect complement to the way his calloused hands petted her back in long, soothing strokes. “Think about giving us a chance.”

She groaned against his shoulder, the urge to flat-out deny his request not as powerful as she expected. The fact that she was even considering his suggestion told her that she should hitch the first flight back to the islands. “Why couldn’t you just let this go? Why couldn’t we go along as we always have?”

He nudged her face up with his hand, forcing her to look at him. He was smiling, his eyes bright blue and smile boyish. It was the expression of a man who knew what he wanted. Damn.

“Because I want you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” He leaned down, brushing a soft kiss across her mouth, dipping in to taste and making her squirm with the shot of desire it produced. He nudged back, the beginnings of an erection nestled against her thigh. “Beck told me I needed to use our time here to convince you to stay. I realized he was right.”

“Well, hell, if you’re taking relationship advice from Beck, then this is already a disaster.”

He chuckled against her hair, shaking them both. “True. His relationships usually only last the time it takes to zip and unzip his pants.”

They moved, scooting back under the covers to lie face-to-face, legs tangled together. For a while the only sound was their breathing and the various creaks and pops of the old house. Taylor let her mind wander over the day’s revelations.

“Why didn’t you tell me about my mother hitting you at the church?”

“I didn’t see the point. Your mom needed to be mad at somebody and I was happy to take the brunt of it.”

“She never did like you.”

“Understatement of the century.” His words were partially muffled as he pressed a soft kiss just under her ear. “What did she say when you told her about Bobby cheating on you?”

“She told me to get over it. That a successful marriage required compromise and this was one of the first of many.”

“What?” His head lifted, anger and shock warping his expression and causing his fingers to tighten against her hip.

“My father’s latest fling wasn’t the first. Now Mother feels betrayed because after all these years he didn’t follow the plan.”

“That’s really…” Lucky struggled, his brow scrunching up in concentration.

“Fucked up?”

“I was going to say sad, but yeah, that’ll work.” Lucky wedged a knee in between her legs and shifted around until his erection was nestled against her clit. She gasped, moving against him, each glide shooting sparks up her spine. She needed to say something before they disappeared into the oblivion of what they did best.

“Lucky. I don’t think I can give you what you want.”

“You’re going to have to spell it out for me, Tay. What can’t you give me?”

She couldn’t say the words.

Her thoughts must have been written all over her face because his expression morphed from confusion to understanding. In a flash, she was under him, her entire world funneling down into the space of shared breaths and full body contact. It was heaven and she wondered if she could give it up.

“Taylor, all I’m asking for right now is an open mind. We’ll see how it goes from there.” Lucky brushed hair off her cheek, joining their lips in a warm kiss.

“And what if I still want to go back to Hawaii?”

“I’ll drive you to the airport myself.”

She knew he would do it. Lucky was a good as his word.

She just didn’t know if it was a promise she wanted him to keep.

Chapter Fifteen

He was going to go blind.

Lucky stood in the doorway of the library at Elliott House, unable to move. The sight of Taylor in one of her body-hugging running outfits was always amazing, and his body responded to the sexy way her hips swiveled and pumped in time with the heavy beat pouring out of the sound system. But the addition of five of the fine churchgoing ladies of Elliott gyrating along with her was something he could have gone his whole life without seeing.

This was going to require therapy.

“Shake it, ladies. Move those hips.” Taylor moved among the women, guiding their movements with her hands and demonstrating sexy moves designed to get any man’s blood boiling. The sight of his fourth-grade teacher shaking her moneymaker…made his stomach do a high-dive into his toes.

The sound of the front door opening and closing tore his eyes from the train wreck in front of him. Teague stood on the threshold, his expression taking on a hard edge at the sight of Lucky. They hadn’t spoken since the night at the jail.

“What’s going on?” Teague asked, motioning toward the door.

Not waiting for an answer, he strode toward the doorway and took a good look at the scene before him. Lucky would have paid good money to have a photograph of the myriad emotions skittering across his friend’s face within the span of a few seconds: curiosity and shock edged with just a hint of nausea.

“Damn it, Lucky, you could have warned me!” Teague choked out, his body reeling backward. “What the
hell
is she doing in there?”

“I think she’s teaching them a stripper routine.” Laughing, Lucky shoved him back toward the kitchen, determined to put as much distance between them and the nightmare on Main Street unfolding in the library. “I think this calls for a drink. Beer?”

“Yeah.”

Lucky grabbed two beers out of the fridge, popping the caps and sliding one across the countertop toward Teague, who’d settled at the bar. The first gulp went down easy, the coolness of the liquid reaching a part of him that was parched after a day working at the farm in the heat.

He glanced at Teague, gauging his mood. He was relaxed on the stool, and when they caught each other’s gaze, they both snickered. Any tension between them left with the church ladies who were currently at the front door, departing with loud laughter.

“Man. I’m sorry about the other night,” Lucky said.

Teague took another swig of his beer and waved him off. “Forget it. I know how Taylor is. If she was determined to go there, no one could have stopped her. Any hint of the sweet, compliant little sister I grew up with disappeared when she slugged that asshole at the altar.”

“I think it’s for the better.”

Teague paused for a moment, contemplating his answer. Finally he nodded, saluting Lucky with his bottle. “You’re right. I don’t worry about her half the world away. I know she can handle herself.”

“Leave her alone!” The cry, sharp and strangled, shot down the hallway and erupted in the kitchen like a grenade full of shrapnel. Right on its heels, accompanying screams and exclamations chased down the original blast and propelled Lucky toward the source with Teague in his wake. He didn’t hear Taylor’s voice, and that fact alone frightened Lucky to the point where panic was running right alongside him.

The massive mahogany door was flung open, the afternoon sunlight as bright as the rage pulsing in his veins. A man had his hands on Taylor and was attempting to drag her down the steps. She was putting up a good fight, but it was a losing battle since the man was easily double her size. Lucky planned on evening the odds in her favor.

He didn’t yell—the cacophony of frightened women would render it useless, and his training programmed him to sweep in silent and deadly. Once his right foot hit the threshold of the porch, Lucky launched himself at Taylor’s attacker, brutally removing her from his grasp and shoving her to the side. Lucky came down on the man with a vehemence he’d kept at bay since his days in the military ended.

It was over quickly.

The asshole was used to dealing with people who quickly caved in to bullying only slightly more intimidating than what was delivered in the local high school. Shock eclipsed every other expression when Lucky grabbed him by the shirt and delivered two quick jabs to the face. The crunchy, liquidy sound of the guy’s nose yielding to the impact of his fist caused satisfaction to bloom like a rose in his chest. This is what he was trained to do. This time it was personal.

Lucky slammed Taylor’s attacker to the ground, leaning on his windpipe until his eyes bulged and the skin around the edges of his mouth turned purple. Just a little more pressure and the guy would go down like a slutty girl on prom night.

“Lucky! Stop!” Teague appeared in his peripheral vision, reaching out to grab him.

“Teague. Back. Off.”

“Lucky. Stop. You’re going to kill him.” Teague inched closer and Lucky took his eyes off the man-sized bug in his grip long enough to flash a warning at his friend. It worked, because Teague recoiled before he took his next breath.

“If I wanted to kill him I’d have snapped his neck by now. This is what I do. Don’t get in my way.” Lucky took a steadying breath and tried to ease back on the menace. He wasn’t so far gone to forget where he was and that he no longer had government immunity to secure a victory by any means necessary. Besides, he wouldn’t get any answers from this guy if he coated the front walk with his brain matter.

He returned his gaze to the intruder, relieving the pressure enough to allow him answer his questions. “I’m going to ask you this once and I swear to God if you lie to me I will feed your nuts to my dad’s dogs. You get me?”

The man nodded.

“So hurry up, dickhead. Tell me what I want to know.” Lucky leaned a little on his throat to remind him that his generosity was the only thing standing in between his next breath and a toe tag. “Who do you work for, motherfucker?”

“Mr. Wilkes. Ed—ie Eddie Wilkes.” The man stammered as if by uttering the name he would summon the devil to this little meet and greet.

Fury flashed through Lucky’s system, singeing away slivers of his humanity and leaving behind the charred remains of the normal twinges of conscience that kept most people from committing the unthinkable. He wouldn’t kill him, but years of training were hard to shake.

“Lucky, let him up,” Sheriff Burke’s voice, low and even, broke just over his right shoulder.

Lucky cursed, tightening his hold on Taylor’s attacker, who clearly thought the cavalry had arrived.

“Sheriff. Make him let me go. He’s going to kill me.” The weasel whined like one of those stupid yappy dogs rich women put in their purses—totally appropriate since he was Eddie Wilkes’s bitch. What Lucky wouldn’t give for one more minute to smack him around for being such a loser. And then another few seconds to beat the crap out of him for daring to lay a finger on Taylor.

“Burke, I need you to give me a little more time,” Lucky spat out between clenched teeth, his jaw aching with rage.

“No.” The sheriff’s word was clear. “I can’t let you settle this the way to you want to, son. Let him up and we’ll do this the right way.”

Lucky cursed. He levered himself off the guy, stopping when he caught the triumphant smirk twisting the bastard’s lips. Lucky didn’t even hesitate before he slammed his fist down on the slug’s face, connected with the sweet spot, and knocked him out.

The sheriff cursed loudly and creatively as Lucky hoisted himself up to a fully upright position. He smiled as he turned to face Burke, allowing his self-satisfied grin free rein as he dusted the dirt off his jeans.

“He’s all yours, Sheriff.”

Chapter Sixteen

“Are you feeling better, jailbird?”

Taylor emerged from the steamy bathroom, clean and wearing one of Lucky’s shirts. He sat on her bed among the purple ruffles with a hot mug of coffee in his hand. His hair was wet, his shirt off and jeans unbuttoned.

“Damn. You’re a beautiful sight.” She reached out to grab the coffee and flinched. There was an ugly bruise blossoming on the upper part of her right arm from where the crazy guy had grabbed her. “I know I was only there for a couple of hours, but it seemed like Burke questioned me forever.”

Lucky slid to the rug on the floor, dragging her down with him and tucking her under his arm. They relaxed into each other, drinking coffee and enjoying the moment of quiet after the craziest day ever. The day she got a glimpse of the Lucky she never knew before.

She’d never seen Lucky—hell, she’d never seen
anyone
look like that. He’d been as hard as the surrounding Blue Ridge Mountains and eerily devoid of any emotion. No anger. No fear. Not even determination rippled across the familiar planes of his face. Lucky had looked like a machine, a futuristic robot that resembled a human being until you pulled back the layer of synthetic skin and uncovered wires and computer chips. Now she understood what he’d done in the military. Now she understood why it would take him at least twenty-four hours with her before he’d act like a human being.

“Tay. You okay, baby?” He sat down his mug and tugged her closer. His hands now seemed larger and more powerful. “You’re like ice. Are you hurt? Do you need something?”

“I need you to be honest with me,” Taylor answered, surprising herself with her bluntness. He wanted her to stay and she needed to strip away all the crap hidden between them. “What did you do in the Marines? Was it even the Marines? The way you bashed that guy it was—”

“Hey. Slow down.” Lucky pulled her in close and she slid onto his lap, straddling him, eye-to-eye. He tucked a finger under chin, the rough pad of his thumb rubbing softly against her lower lip. “Do you really want to talk about this now?”

She nodded, gripping his shoulder tighter just in case he tried to put distance between them. Right now she couldn’t stand to be any farther apart than what clothes dictated. Part of her worried that if she lost the physical connection with him right now, she’d never really understand him.

“Damn, Tay. There are things I can’t tell anyone. Not sure if I’d want to even if I could.” His arms tightened around her as if he needed her assurance. “I
was
in the Marines. I had unique talents and they put me in special training—sharpshooting, advanced hand-to-hand combat, the strategy of eliminating targets efficiently. They loaned me out when people had special projects.”

Taylor watched him closely, the play of pain and pride mixed in his expression. “You killed people.”