TAKE A CHANCE (Chance Colorado Series) (20 page)

A vague memory of his saying something about Dulcie giving them to Tanner floated through her mind, but it didn’t really matter. She’d been too busy enjoying the feel of his words rumbling in his chest to worry about what he’d actually had to say.

Too bad Dulcie hadn’t sent her toothbrush. Her mouth tasted like goats had been sleeping in there. A bottle of mouthwash caught her eye and she poured a hefty swig into a tiny paper cup and sloshed it around in her mouth until she couldn’t stand the burn any longer.

She stepped out of the big pajama bottoms and pulled the overly large T-shirt over her head, wincing as she lifted her arms. A quick check in the mirror revealed a bruise the size of her hand on her side. She’d have to remember to ask if she’d wrestled any bulls last night. And what the bull won after winning the match.

Climbing into the warm shower, she allowed the hot water to flow over her face and into her hair. What a godsend! It felt so good, it was even worth the pain of standing on her poor, wounded feet.

Try as she might to remember, the whole sticker incident was a blur. In fact, a major portion of the evening was a blur, though some of it was coming back to her in bits and pieces. She remembered wandering down a dark alley. Remembered making her way down a hallway that could have been straight out of some old horror film. Remembered smoke. A fire, maybe? She did have a vague memory of being really upset when she’d left the restaurant, so that might make sense.

She leaned over to rinse soap from her hair, and the movement set her head pounding. At least it was only a headache now, not that awful, nauseous spinning she’d felt last night.

Not like when she’d come out of the ladies’ room. Not like when she’d peeked into the kitchen.

Not at all like when she’d seen Shayla and Logan kissing.

* * *

Urging Allie to hurry up again was the last thing Logan wanted to do. She no doubt felt awful this morning considering the night she’d had. If only he’d known enough to warn her against that second drink, he might have saved her going through all this.

But he hadn’t.

What he had done was spend the night rubbing her back and holding her hair as her body had rejected the alcohol she’d poured into it. But not even that was enough to make up for what she’d gone through. And now he needed to force her to move faster, because they were running out of time. The alarm he’d set would be going off soon to warn them they needed to get moving if they were going to get her home before six, like he’d promised Dulcie they would.

The water in the bathroom had stopped running quite a while ago, but he’d heard no other movement behind the door. Worry over her physical well-being began to outweigh any concern over getting her home too late to conceal the fact that she’d been out all night.

He rapped his knuckles against the door. “Allie? Everything okay in there?”

Slowly, the door opened and she stepped into the hallway next to him, a vision of steamy temptation. Barefoot, she wore only jeans and a tight blue T-shirt, both of which looked as though they’d seen better days a decade ago. Gold-blond curls that normally looked as if they were just barely held under control hung in damp, orderly waves, framing a face pink with the heat of the shower.

It took everything he had not to sweep her off her feet and race down the hall to his bedroom. Who did he think he was kidding? It took everything he had not to go at it right here on the floor in front of the bathroom door. One word from her and—

“No,” she said quietly, looking up at him, her eyes darkened with emotion. “No, everything is not okay.”

Those were not the words he’d imagined her saying.

“What’s wrong?”

He moved toward her, but she backed away and held up one hand, as if to separate herself from any contact with him as she skirted around him and headed back toward the living room.

“What’s wrong?” he repeated, following after her.

Allie stopped in the middle of the room, her arms crossed in front of her, her face clearly reflecting some internal debate she waged with herself.

“Where were you last night? At the restaurant, I mean? I remember sitting at that table, all alone, for what seemed like forever. What happened to you?”

The question was long overdue and certainly one that deserved an answer.

“There was a small electrical fire in the kitchen. I smelled the smoke and went to investigate. Once I found it, I was focused on dealing with it. I’m sorry. I should have thought to send someone out to let you know what was going on but I was doing my job and I just got wrapped up in the moment.”

“Wrapped up, yeah, that’s a good description,” she said. “At least from what I saw, it is.”

“I was doing my job,” he insisted, actually hearing what she’d said only after he spoke. “What do you mean? What exactly did you see?”

She lifted one shoulder in what appeared to be an elaborate show of indifference. “Not much really. Just you and Shayla.
Wrapped up,
as you call it. Sharing a moment, I guess. Well, a kiss more than a moment, but we’re dipping into semantics territory now and, actually, it’s not any of my business what you do anyway.”

“No, you’re right. It’s not,” he agreed, regretting the words the instant they left his mouth.

He didn’t owe a justification of his actions to her or anyone else. But for some reason he didn’t quite understand, he wanted to explain to her what had really happened. He needed to explain it to her. He needed to wipe that expression of hurt from her eyes.

“In spite of what you think you saw, I wasn’t kissing Shayla.”

“I know what I saw, Logan. Granted, I was totally sloshed, but that doesn’t change the fact that I know what I saw. She was all over you.” Allie looked away for a second, chewing her bottom lip. “Again, not that it’s any of my business what you do with her. It just would have been nice if you hadn’t been doing it with her when you were supposed to be having dinner with me. That’s all.”

That was hardly
all,
and both of them knew it.

“I didn’t kiss her,” he said again, slowly making his way across the room to where Allie stood. “She did kiss me. She wound herself around me like bindweed out in the pasture and I had to pull her off. But I didn’t kiss her. I wouldn’t do that whether I was having dinner with you or if I’d been there all by myself. What once existed between us is long gone.”

Five years long gone, to be exact.

Her arms, held so protectively in front of her, seemed to relax a little, and he could almost see the images flipping past as she searched her memory.

“Okay,” she said at last. “In fairness, I didn’t actually see you kiss her. So, maybe I did jump to a conclusion or two. The men in my life haven’t been all that trustworthy.”

He was within reaching distance so he reached out, closed his fingers around her upper arm and gently pulled her to him.

“I’m not those other men, Allie.”

“I know,” she whispered in return, as if, being so close, she couldn’t manage to speak any louder.

A whole new emotion filled her eyes as she stared up at him. An emotion he didn’t mind being responsible for putting there.

He breathed her in as he dipped his head to cover her lips with his. She smelled like something that belonged in his house. She smelled like his soap, his shampoo… his woman? That thought, which a month ago would have scared him beyond reason, didn’t seem to have the same power over him at this moment.

It certainly didn’t have anywhere near as much power as holding her in his arms did.

Her skin was warm and responsive under his wandering hands, encouraging him to explore further. His fingers slid up her sides, pushing their way under the soft cotton of her shirt, and she shivered as his thumbs trailed along the undersides of her breasts.

Shivered, but made no effort to push him away.

He walked her backward until they bumped into the sofa, then slowly lowered her to her back, following her down, careful not to break the kiss they held.

It wasn’t lost on him that her hands caressed his face before twining into his hair, her body pressing closer to his.

She gasped when he lifted his lips from hers. He traced one thumb over her lower lip before returning his hands to her waist to push her shirt up, baring her beautiful stomach and beyond to the lace above and the soft mounds encased in that lace.

She gasped a second time when he lowered his head to rest his lips against one of those lacy mounds. Her body lifted up toward him when he breathed out, his warm, moist breath flowing over her.

His fingers fumbled with the button on her jeans, and he silently cursed himself for ever thinking that he liked seeing a woman in tight jeans. From this moment forward, he was a confirmed loose-jeans guy. He quickly reconsidered that pledge when the button gave way and the copper tab of the zipper slid slowly down with only a little urging on his part.

He covered her lips once again with his own and swallowed her third gasp, the one elicited when his fingers slid between her smooth, soft skin and the lace revealed beneath the jeans.

She felt so good to him. This moment felt so right, so perfect. If only that damned beeping would shut up.

The alarm!

Reluctantly, he lifted his mouth from hers. “I can’t begin to tell you how much I hate to put a stop to this.”

“I know,” she sighed. “We have to go.”

Next time,
he promised himself as he forced himself to stand and offered a hand to help her to her feet.

The next time he planned the perfect evening, it would be perfect. He’d see to it. No family, no ex-girlfriends, and not one single damned alarm in the entire house.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“Would you like to explain to me how you can possibly call this our third date?” Allie grinned across the table at Logan, waiting for his response. They’d had breakfast, lunch, or coffee together two or three times a week, every single week since their disastrous night out at Golddiggers. “We have to be at number ten or fifteen by now, at the very least.”

“Granted,” he conceded, returning her grin. “But none of those are official dates. Tonight will be our third official date. To make up for—”

“Don’t say it,” she interrupted with a laugh. “Don’t even think it. Let’s not jinx ourselves.”

She wasn’t really a superstitious person, but so far, official dates hadn’t worked out so well for them.

“Tonight will break the Official Date Curse. I’ve got everything worked out with no possible hitches in sight this time. I’ll pick you up at six sharp, then we’ll go back to my place. We can pop open a bottle of wine, relax on the deck while dessert is baking and then I’ll grill steaks for us. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds pretty good,” she replied. “But how about instead of you coming to get me, you stay home and get things ready and I’ll drive myself out there.”

“If you’re sure that’s what you want to do. That gives me more time to run a few errands and still get a special dessert in the oven.” He pushed back his chair and stood, leaning down to brush a light kiss on the top of her head before offering a reminder: “Don’t forget, it’s the second turnoff after you go through the cattle guard and then just keep hanging lefts at each fork in the road.”

“Got it. See you tonight.”

The kiss was something recent and she was sure he’d only felt comfortable enough for it now because there were no other customers in the Hand except for Lila Murphy, and she was out of sight back in the bookshelves.

“Getting serious, I see.”

Of course, there was Dulcie, who seemed to see everything, even if you didn’t see her.

“You think so?”

Allie had been so focused on simply enjoying her time with Logan, she hadn’t allowed herself to stop and think about where the relationship was going. She hadn’t even allowed herself to think of what was happening between them as a relationship.

“Trust me,” Dulcie said as she sat down in the chair Logan had just vacated. “I’ve seen that man in the Hand almost every day since we opened. And I’ve known him my whole life. In all that time, I’ve never once seen him kiss anyone in public.”

“Maybe,” Allie conceded, a tendril of worry already beginning to wiggle around in the pit of her stomach.

“It is what you always wanted, right?” Dulcie asked. “What you always dreamed about?”

“Fantasized about,” Allie corrected.

After so many years of wanting this exact thing, it was difficult to accept that it actually might be happening. She had no doubt that Logan was attracted to her. His physical reaction to her was too obvious to miss. But actually liking her? There was a huge difference between physical attraction and an honest-to-goodness relationship. Though it had always been her fantasy that one day this would happen, it certainly hadn’t been her expectation. Especially not after all these years.

If Dulcie was right, this changed everything. If Logan’s feelings for her were more than just a simple case of lust, if what was happening between them was more than simply hanging out and having fun together, she couldn’t afford to ruin any chance they might have for a future together.