Shot of Sultry (12 page)

Bobbi almost threw up in her mouth.

“Are you okay, Miss Gallagher?” Sarah touched Bobbi’s forearm with French-manicured fingers. “You’re practically green.”

No shit. Green with envy. “Oh, I’m fine. Just need to drink more.” Tequila—a double shot. “This heat’s brutal.”

“I know.” Sarah stroked her smooth, blond ponytail. “When the humidity’s this bad, I can’t do a thing with my hair.”

How tragic. “Don’t worry, you look great.” Unable to take another moment of gilded small talk, Bobbi got down to business. “Now listen, I’m not trying to pressure you, but if the moment’s right, feel free to…” she swallowed the bitter lump in her throat, “…k-kiss Trey. Don’t wait for him to make the first move.” See? There, that wasn’t so bad. She could totally survive this.

Sarah smiled, revealing pearly whites that would make an orthodontist jizz in his pants. “My pleasure.”

Oh god. Maybe she couldn’t survive this. “Um, on second thought—”

“Hey, Sarah.” Speak of the devil, Trey strode forward and extended a handful of vibrant daisies to his date. Bobbi sank a few inches. She loved daisies. Sarah brought the bouquet to her nose while Trey tipped back his hat with one finger and grinned at her reaction, flashing his deep dimples.

Bobbi didn’t know how he’d managed it, but he looked even sexier now than he had fifteen minutes ago. The sun had stained the apples of his cheeks, giving him a rugged edge, especially when combined with that weathered cowboy hat. A few sweaty, blond tendrils of hair clung to his temples, and his black T-shirt hugged every blessed contour along his muscled torso, leading Bobbi’s eyes to his long, lean thighs showcased beneath slightly dusty jeans. Just then, she decided she
was
perfectly capable of hating Sarah. Because that was the kind of woman Trey belonged with, not some hot-ass mess from Inglewood with enough debt to sink a small country.

Bong hopped out of his van and slung his microphone pole over one shoulder. He glanced at Bobbi’s face and furrowed his brow. “What’s wrong, boss?”

The Golden Couple tore their gazes away from each other to study Bobbi. Sarah rested one hand over her chest in a
bless
her
heart
motion and cooed, “I think she’s overheated.”

That was one way of putting it. “No biggie. I’m about to go grab a beer.”

Her innocent words drew the attention of Weezus and Colton, who’d just approached from behind. “Drinking on the job?” Weezus asked, peering around the camera atop his shoulder. “That’s a first.”

“Ah, hell,” Colton drawled, winking at her, “everyone knows beer doesn’t count as drinkin’. It’s nothin’ but liquid bread.” Still in uniform, he leaned back against the van and adjusted his utility belt. “Let’s go get a drink together, honey. A good, strong one. My date bailed on me, and I need a shoulder to cry on.”

Trey stiffened and cleared his throat, shooting daggers at his friend.

“She stood you up?” Bobbi asked, narrowing one skeptical eye. “Or you already nailed her and didn’t call the next day?”

After a few low chuckles, Colt admitted, “Both.” He pushed off the van and ambled over to her, then slung an arm around her shoulders. “I could sure use a stiff one. How ’bout it?”

With Colton,
stiff
one
didn’t necessarily refer to booze, but Bobbi knew how to handle him, and she needed a distraction from the impending Kissapalooza. It wasn’t five o’clock yet, but what the hell. A margarita on the rocks couldn’t tell time. “Fine.” She raised her cell phone at Bong and Weezus. “Call if you need me.”

“Hold on.” Trey settled his hand on Sarah’s lower back in a protective gesture, and Bobbi’s stomach dropped to the asphalt. He seemed to have warmed up to her pretty damned quickly. “This is exactly the kind of stuff Luke asked me to watch out—”

“What’re you afraid of, Lewis?” Colton smirked, clearly baiting Trey. “I’ll take real good care of our girl since you’re otherwise occupied.”

Through a clenched jaw, Trey reminded Colt, “It’s a dry county. There’s no place to get booze around here.”

“Well, now, you’re absolutely right.” Colt nodded, a grin practically splitting his face. “We’ll have to go to my place.”

“The answer’s no.”

“Enough.” Bobbi rolled her eyes. She half expected them to free their tallywackers and hold a pissing contest right there in the parking lot. “Go film this date and—”
get
it
over
with
. She darted a glance to the sky, where gunmetal clouds had begun to roll in. “And work in some shots of the parade before the storm shuts us down.” Trey’s prophetic leg had been right about the pressure change. “Guess this means no fireworks.”

Taking her hand, Colton towed her away from the group. “C’mon, honey. We’ll make our own.”

“Goddamn it, Colt, I’m not playin’.” Pure rage flashed in Trey’s eyes, his tensed body twitching as if poised to spring on the deputy. Judas Priest, he was worse than Luke.

“Chill, Golden Boy.” Unable to bear the sight of him at Sarah’s side, Bobbi turned away. “I can handle myself. Just remember what I told you.” She hoped Trey and the crew hadn’t noticed the tremor in her voice, proof that she wanted that kiss to happen as much as she wanted a full bikini wax from Jack the Ripper.

“Where’re you going?” Trey demanded.

Though still facing the other direction, she was aware of his eyes on her, a hot, electrical charge tingling along the back of her neck and spreading like warm honey over her shoulder blades. She heaved a sigh, desperately trying to rein in her emotions and act like a professional. She could justify one drink in the middle of the day, but not driving into the next county when the crew might need her. And no way in hell was she setting foot inside Colton’s skeevy palace of porn. “I guess I’ll settle for an iced coffee.”

Before Trey had a chance to object any further, she set off, briskly leading the way to Blessed Brew. Five minutes later, she and Colton had barely made it inside before the sky opened up and put a soggy end to the Independence Day festivities.

Bobbi sagged into a booth at the back of the café and faced the wall while Colton ordered their drinks. She didn’t want to people-watch, only to drown her jealousy in sugar, cream, and caffeinated goodness.

When Colton rejoined her, it was with an iced mocha latte—extra whipped cream—and a consoling pat on the shoulder. “Here ya go, hon.” He set it gingerly on the glossy Formica tabletop and took the seat across from her. “If that doesn’t do the trick, you let me know, and we’ll head to my place for somethin’ stronger.”

“I’ll be fine, thanks.”

Something, or more accurately some
one
, from behind caught Colton’s attention, and he offered some lucky lady a wink and some filthy eye-sexing before returning his gaze to Bobbi. “You’re not foolin’ me, sugar. Neither is Lewis. Even a blind virgin could see you two’re hot for each other. I never stood a chance.”

She shifted on her seat, the vinyl clinging painfully to the backs of her bare thighs. “He’s my subject. Getting involved with him is out of the question.”

“And let me guess, playing matchmaker’s eating a hole in your gut?”

“Yeah.” She brought the iced mocha to her lips and sighed into the plastic cup. “I practically ordered him to get to first base tonight.”

“Want me to kiss you?” Blue-green eyes twinkling with mischief contrasted against his russet skin, and Bobbi understood why half the women in Sultry Springs were sprung for the man. “This mouth,” he said as he pointed to his own lips, “is guaranteed to ruin you for all other guys.”

“Think I’ll pass.” She took a sip of sugared coffee and smiled. “No telling where your mouth has been.”

A few smooth chuckles escaped said mouth. “Who am I to hide this gift from the world?”

“Maybe you haven’t found the right woman to share it with.” She decided to push for a few tidbits on Leah McMahon. “Or from what I heard, you did find her, and she got away.”

With those words, his playful mood darkened—his eyes narrowed, jaw set, shoulders clenched halfway to his ears. Oh yeah, she’d hit a nerve.

“Trey told me about the pastor’s daughter,” she said casually, trying to keep him from shutting down. “Sounds like she really screwed you over. What happened?”

“Get this straight.” Colt’s typically seductive voice went sharper than a sword’s edge. “She didn’t do anything wrong. It was all me.” He tipped his head, delivering a pointed gaze that warned her to back off. “It’s bad enough that I have to live with what I did. I’m not talkin’ about it with you. Leave her outta this.”

They both fell silent, letting the squeak of wet shoes against tile replace their charged conversation until Bobbi peeked through her lashes and asked, “What if I could find her?”

His wide-eyed reaction was instantaneous—one of pure, unadulterated hope—but just as quickly, he bottled up those emotions and stuffed them down. She’d done it enough times to know. “Don’t waste your time.”

“Why? Because you think she won’t forgive—”

She was interrupted by a pair of large, wet, male hands slamming against the Formica—hands she’d know anywhere because they’d made her body tremble on more than one occasion. She turned to find Trey braced against the table, his drenched black T-shirt molded to him like a second skin as turrets of raindrops streamed down his face and fell from his angular jaw. His straw cowboy hat cast a dangerous shadow over his stormy, blue eyes, which seemed to devour her where she sat. A thousand butterflies took flight, pirouetting inside Bobbi’s stomach as her mouth went drier than Death Valley at noon.

“We need to talk,” was all he said before turning on his booted heel and stalking into the hallway that led to the bathrooms and two defunct pay phones in the back.

Bobbi glanced over her shoulder, scanning the booths and tables, with no sign of Sarah or the crew. What on earth had happened out there?

“You’d better go on,” Colton said, seeming to recover a fraction of his good spirits, “before he hauls you over his shoulder and smacks your ass again.” He snorted a dry laugh. “Unless that’s what you’re after.”

“I’ll just be a minute.” She scooted along the cushioned vinyl and pushed to standing.

“Take your time, honey. I need to get back on duty.” He removed his Stetson just long enough to rake a hand through his long, raven hair. “But you know where to find me if you wanna take me up on that offer.”

Her foggy brain couldn’t summon a witty comeback, so she breathed, “Sure,” and began on shaky knees toward the back hallway. Her limbs moved as if underwater, her pulse racing, though she couldn’t identify why. Something about the furious heat in Trey’s glare had made her equal parts eager and terrified of being alone with him. Her destination seemed farther away with each step.

When she finally reached him, he faced the emergency exit, one shoulder propped against the wall, arms folded in a combative stance. The faint glow from the exit sign overhead bathed him in red, serving to heighten the sense of foreboding in the dim space.

“What’s going on?” she asked softly. When he didn’t respond, she moved closer, resting her palm against the planes of his strong back. “Where’s the crew? And Sarah?”

Slowly, he turned to face her, then stared her down for several long seconds. He advanced one inch at a time until he’d trapped her body between two walls—one of wood paneling, the other of muscled flesh. Bracing his palms on either side of her head, he murmured, “I sent them all home.”

His simmering gaze swept her face and settled low on her mouth. Electric heat rolled off his body in waves, along with the scents of summer rain and pure male desire. She swallowed hard before managing to ask why.

“Because,” he explained, eliminating all but an inch of space between them, “I couldn’t stand being around her another second.”

The predatory stance of his body, his closeness and fever, sent Bobbi’s pulse into overdrive as tension coiled low in her stomach. “B-but she’s perfect.”

Trey shook his head, lowering it until they were eye-level. “Turns out she’s got a pretty big personality flaw. A total deal-breaker.”

Bobbi didn’t understand—Sarah had it all: looks, brains, charisma, the whole package. “What could that possibly be?”

Moving his lips to her ear, he whispered, “She’s not you.”

His words tore a gasp from her lungs, or maybe it was his hot breath nuzzling the helix of her ear. Responding without conscious thought, she arched her back until her breasts conformed to his damp chest. He sucked in a breath, muscles tense. “Does this mean I can touch you now?”

God help her, he felt so good, like the first day of spring after an eternal, dark winter, and she didn’t hesitate to say, “Yes.” She craved his touch like a drug, wanted to feel it over every inch of her skin more than she wanted to breathe.

He wasted no time lowering his face to hers. With the rough hands she’d grown to love, he took her cheeks between his palms and kissed her so slowly it made her throat close, his wet mouth sliding over hers in one soft, simple motion that somehow managed to feel mind-blowingly erotic and tender at the same time. At once, she opened to him, sighing against his lower lip and inviting him to take more—and he did, tilting her head back to deepen the kiss and exploring her mouth with the tip of his soft tongue.

He tasted so deliciously sweet and sensual that she couldn’t stop the moan from escaping her chest. She wrapped both arms around the thick pillar of his neck in a compulsion to pull him closer as their tongues twined and circled in their seductive dance. She needed to feel his weight crushing her, and he seemed to understand, pinning her to the wall with his hips, pressing every strong, solid contour of his body against her. In that moment, she felt whole, as if this man’s warmth had been the one thing missing from her life all these years. Tangling one hand in her hair, he released a jagged breath before claiming her mouth again, harder, sucking and nipping at her lips in a clear show of possession that thrilled her to the soles of her feet.

She’d experienced plenty of kisses in her life, some hot in their own right, but never anything like this. Never a kiss that burned her up from the inside out, branded her, made her feel so utterly adored. Trey slowed down, brushed his soft lips against hers, and brought her palm to rest atop his chest, where his heart pounded a furious staccato for her. She glowed with the knowledge that right now he wanted only her—no other woman in the world.