Unable to Resist (44 page)

Thursday goes off without a hiccup. Well, kind of. Liv nurses her hangover all day and I contemplate Duane’s odd exit. He texts me throughout the day, most of them sweet, of course. Others are enough to make me blush, or combust. My Cowboy is dirty.

I find myself hiding smiles and flushed cheeks from customers. Otherwise I’d look like the namesake Liv so graciously bestowed upon me—noob. I feel like a damn noob.

It’s getting more and more difficult to concentrate on normal tasks. I usually go through my routine with little to no mishaps. That’s usually Liv’s area of expertise. She’d punch me if I said that out loud, but it’s true. The girl can’t go a day without dropping or tripping over something.

But today, I can’t even fill the espresso machine correctly. I’ve dropped a whole tray of cupcakes and then proceeded to smack my head on the counter when I bent to pick them up.

“Holy hell, are you alright?” Liv asks as she skids to a halt in front of me and my mess.

My arms flail in front of me. “I’m fine. My head’s not in it today. I’ll get it together eventually.”

It didn’t happen.

So maybe there were a few hitches.

Friday wasn’t much better. Liv kept shooting knowing glances at me all day, and it drove me nearly mad. I distinctly got the impression she was in on what was going on tonight and it made me anxious. Liv’s never been good at keeping secrets and my so-called best friend wouldn’t give me any inkling as to what she was planning with Duane. It was infuriating to say the least.

I only spilt one cup of coffee by the end of the day, so I’d say it was a win for the most part.

Later that evening, while getting ready, Liv looks over at me in the bathroom mirror and her eyes begin to water.

“I love you, you know that? I know you’ve had a hard go of things in the past years,” she sighs, letting the weight of my past take over her, “but you are an amazing person. Beautiful and silly. Funny and serious. You are all these great things, and I hope you realize it.”

I put my eyeliner down, and give her a quizzical look. “What’s this all about?” My heart is warm from her words, but it’s so unlike her to be so mushy.

She sets her mascara on the counter, and hops up. “I know,” she starts and trails off, “I know you feel like you don’t deserve love. I know your past has messed with your head but that doesn’t mean we don’t love you.”

A tear escapes my eye and I wipe it away. “I know you love me, Liv. I love you, too.”

She swipes at her own tears. “I know you love me, too, you noob, but things didn’t quite click until you told us about what happened with Kyle and—the baby.”

I cross my arms. “What do you mean?”

She grabs my hand and gives me a reassuring squeeze. “I never really understood why you stayed away from men. I just figured you were shy or maybe you were a lesbian.”

She laughs and I roll my eyes, but smile despite myself.

“There would be times,” she continues, “when a guy would hit on you and you’d instantly retreat into yourself, never fully interacting with them. You’d even do that with customers. I don’t think you realized it, but knowing the hell you went through, it all makes sense now.” She squeezes my hand again. “You are worthy. You are meant to love, and to be loved. Mia and I both adore you. It’s time to start believing in yourself.”

Tears are flowing freely down my face now, but I smile and offer her a half laugh. “Thank you so much for being my best friend, Liv,” I say as I hurl myself into her arms.

She grunts and wraps her arms around me. “You aren’t my friend, Ann. You’re my sister, and you’ve always been.”

I swipe at my face again and nod. “I know. I just—I love you. You don’t know how much you’ve helped me throughout the years. You may not have known my reasoning for being the way I was, but you were always there. You were my rock. I can’t thank you enough.”

She lets me go, reaching for tissues to blow her nose. “Yeah, well,” she brushes off my compliments in typical Liv fashion, “enough of that. Let’s finish getting ready.”

Smoothing my hands down my electric blue, silk peplum top, I assess myself in the mirror. My black skinny jeans show off my hourglass hips and hug my thighs like a glove. I decided to straighten my hair, so it hangs down my back in different layers of red. I’ve kept it simple with my makeup; my eyes stand out even more with the blue top and the black mascara makes them pop. With a soft shade of lipstick, and a bit of blush, I look fierce.

“That top is really working for you,” Liv says next to me.

In a flowy black tunic and blue skinnys, she looks picturesque. Her bright blonde hair is pinned back in an elaborate twist, and her dark eyes dance with anticipation.

“Oh! I have amazing shoes that you can borrow,” she says joyfully, then runs to her room.

I grin into the mirror while applying a couple sprays of perfume.

“Now, these,” she says, hurling black pumps into my hand, “these will knock him dead.”

Applying them to both feet, I tower over Liv’s five-foot-four frame. “Ready, dillhole?” I ask.

Looping her arm through mine, she nods, leading me to the living room. “Yep. Let’s do this.”

As we exit my bathroom, I stop in my tracks. “Wait.” I look at her. “Where am I going?”

Duane gave me a vague text earlier today, telling me he’d have a car pick me up at eight, but he didn’t say a word about where the car would be taking me. At the time, I smiled at the fact someone was having a car pick me up.
A car.
For me. I’m so not the fancy type, but having Duane want to spoil me kind of makes me appreciate that he thinks I like fancy.

Shut up, you’d love fancy if you had the choice.

I’ve just never been fancied.

Liv gives me a look. “I’m not telling you crap, you noob.” The doorbell rings. “That’s your ride. And, for the love of God, have fun.”

She pinches my ass, and I walk to the door shaking my head, biting down a smile.

As the door swings open, I have to blink a few times. The man standing in front of me is dressed in a chauffeur suit, wearing all black—black shirt, black suit jacket and black pants. His slightly-wrinkled, light skin glows under the hall light and his face breaks out into a kind smile when he sees me. Tipping his hat, he grins a white, toothy smile that instantly warms me. Southern hospitality at its finest.

“Good evening, Ms. Daniels. Mr. Rynard is waiting.” He extends his elbow, and I signal with my index finger, before running to the kitchen to retrieve my purse and keys. Shoving my favorite chapstick in my clutch, I turn and walk to the chauffer with a noticeable bounce in my step.

Sliding my hand into his open arm. “What’s your name, sir?” I ask in a bubbly tone. I’m so freaking excited.

He clears his throat. “I’m sorry, ma’am. The name’s Eddie Walker.” He moves down the stairs to the back door.

My eyes widen when I realize I have no idea how he got inside the building in the first place. He looks at me incredulously.

“Oh goodness,” he looks down and blushes, “Ms. Liv let me in. She disarmed the alarm and left the door unlocked.” He assures. “You’ve got a good friend there.”

What is with everyone being able to read my mind? Are my emotions written on my face?

I decide to let it go and squeeze his arm. “That I do, and no worries. So, where are you taking me, huh?”

Eddie’s lips twitch. “That, ma’am, is classified,” he attempts with authority.

Dammit. I do love surprises, which I’m sure Duane knows if he’s talked to Liv, but the anticipation is nearly killer. I groan and step back as Eddie opens the door to the black SUV. Taking his hand, I pull my body into the lifted truck and Eddie closes the door.

The SUV has tinted windows, and the inside is all plush leather. Two rows of seats face each other on both sides of the truck, and one row is horizontally placed in the back. Up near the front, a bar sits full of ice and wine.

“Feel free to drink anything back there, Ms. Daniels,” Eddie suggests as he situates himself in the driver’s seat.

I nod my head. “Hey, Eddie?”

Looking in the rearview mirror, he looks to the back. “Yes ma’am?”

“Call me Ann, please.” I smile at him.

The sun is still shining bright to the west, so Eddie takes his dark sunglasses off, eyes sparkling. He gives a curt nod and agrees. “Okay—Ann.” His eyes shift back to the front, and he starts the engine. The truck roars to life, and we head north toward the outskirts of Nashville.

Passing my favorite shops on our way out of town, I get a text from Duane.

Duane: Good evening, Red. I’m a little hungry. Are you?

I smile down at my phone, and quickly reply.

Me: I could eat some food. Definitely.

Duane: I didn’t say I was hungry for food, but that works too.

My heart skips and stutters in my chest. I re-read the text over and over again, grinning like a fool.

My door swings open, and I look up from my phone. I hadn’t noticed we’d stopped.

Duane stands outside the door, his hands tucked into his pockets. He looks astonishing in snug denim jeans, his signature brown boots and a pearl snap, pressed black shirt. His eyes glimmer dark green, and I bring my hand to my chest. Beating wildly under my palm, I can’t remember the last time I felt like this.

Smiling a heartfelt smile, Duane softly cups my face and brings his lips down to meet mine. The instant his skin makes contact, electricity cracks between us. I’m still sitting in the back of the SUV, so I twist in my seat and pull on Duane’s shirt, bring him closer to me. He lets go of my face, and places his hands on my jean-clad thighs. Sighing happily, he squeezes. Feeling fire in my toes, I open my mouth, letting his tongue in.

Eddie clears his throat, and we reluctantly pull away. “Uhh—sorry,” he apologizes, “but if you want to make good time on your plans, you better get going.”

Duane gives a sly smile and he nods to Eddie. “Thanks, Ed. We’ll be back at nine thirty.”

Eddie dips his head, and turns for the front.

Duane offers his hand, and I slide out, holding firmly to it.

My feet hit the gravel and Duane balks. “You going to be okay walking in those heels?”

I lift my foot to inspect the height, and then look toward the house about a quarter mile away. I figure if I want to look good, I’ll suffer through the pain.

“I’ll be alright, Cowboy.”

With my hand in his, we walk down the dirt road, simply enjoying being together. The crickets begin to chirp as the sun descends on the horizon and the sky explodes into pinks, yellows and oranges.

I haven’t seen a real sunset in ages. Of course, I’ve seen them over the years at my shop, but it doesn’t quite compare to being out in the country, watching it in its prime. It’s breathtaking. “This is gorgeous, Duane.”

I see in my peripheral that he moves his head to look at me. “It is, isn’t it?”

I turn away from the sunset, and grin.

Just beyond a hill, a red barn comes into view. Just beyond the barn lies a beautiful two-story house. Painted blue with white trimmings, the house looks like something out of my dreams. It’s soft and inviting. The bright red door adds more character and my eyes bulge. I’ve always had a thing for red doors. Living in Arizona, I never got the type of neighborhood I often saw in movies; they didn’t exist. The wraparound porch stretches wide and a swing hangs from the beams.