Barely Behaving
JENNIFER LABRECQUE
The moment veterinarian Niall Fortson spies Tammy Cooper sunbathing in the nude, he knows his new neighbor is naughty– and a knockout! With a bad reputation and a bad attitude, Tammy has trouble written all over her. And though Niall isn't looking for a scandal, he can't resist her.Luckily Tammy has a solution to cure them of their mutual case of lust– a two-week secret affair.Tammy soon realizes the boy next door is almost more man than she can handle. And she's enjoying handling him–a little too much. After all, someone with her track record is all wrong for a guy dreaming of white picket fences. Still, Niall's determined to be more to Tammy than just a boy toy. And with the way he makes her feel, Tammy's inclined to let him convince her.…
Niall suspected that little Gigi had a bit of a foot fetish…
“Come, Gigi,” Niall called the dog.
Gigi ignored him, squeezing beneath the fencing and launching herself across the neighboring yard like a seven-pound rocket. Just as Niall reached the fence line, Gigi attacked the pair of bare toes hanging over a chaise lounge. The woman screamed and leaped to her feet.
In an instant, Niall’s world tilted on its axis. His neighbor was heart-stopping, blood-pumping naked. He struggled to focus on the woman’s face. It was damn hard.
“Let me guess—you’re my new neighbor and this belongs to you.” She nodded toward Gigi. Her distinctly Southern drawl held more than a note of amusement.
“Uh, yeah. I’m sorry we…uh…interrupted you.”
“No problem—I didn’t want to burn anyway.” Her friendly smile was faintly provocative.
Although totally nude, the woman was calm, cool and collected. He, on the other hand, couldn’t put together a cohesive sentence.
But he did know that he liked the neighborhood already….
Dear Reader,
I first met Tammy Cooper when I wrote my first Temptation novel, Barely Mistaken. Tammy, the heroine’s sister, was a bad girl—bad attitude, bad track record, bad reputation. But the more I got to know Tammy, the more I realized she wasn’t all that bad, just misunderstood. It’s trite, but true. Beneath the rebellious facade beat the heart of a vulnerable woman who deserved to be happy—even if she didn’t think so.
That’s the beauty of writing for Temptation—I got to give Tammy her own happy ending. But not just any man would do. Tammy had already tried that, and it didn’t work. No, Tammy needed a man who would delve deep enough to discover the true woman who hid behind the reputation. And lucky for her, that man moved in just next door….
Things heat up pretty quickly between them, and they learn two valuable lessons. One, that Tammy’s not as bad as she pretends, and two—that Niall is even better than he looks…. I hope you enjoy Barely Behaving. I’d love to hear from you. You can write to me at P.O. Box 801068, Acworth, GA 30101.
Happy reading,
Jennifer LaBrecque
Books by Jennifer LaBrecque
HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION
886—BARELY MISTAKEN
904—BARELY DECENT
HARLEQUIN DUETS
28—ANDREW IN EXCESS
52—KIDS+COPS=CHAOS
64—JINGLE BELL BRIDE
Barely Behaving
Jennifer LaBrecque
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To Jake, forever in our hearts, Advantage and Cleopatra (formerly known as Fair Game). Also to Catherine McGovern and Southeastern Greyhound Adoption (SEGA) for their tireless dedication to saving these magnificent animals.
Contents
Prologue (#ua21385f8-0b7d-5dd4-863c-0be56b74d76f)
Chapter 1 (#u063fca5a-9191-51ae-8f4d-ce830b26dbac)
Chapter 2 (#u07eeff79-1aa2-5ae4-8daf-d9463c6080e1)
Chapter 3 (#u1f33dbc2-d778-56d5-80be-fdc27cfc247a)
Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue
“SEX, MARRIAGE AND MEN don’t mix. I like sex and I like men. But I’m skipping marriage from here on out. And this time I mean it.”
Tammy Lorelei Cooper Williams Schill Brantley tossed her latest divorce decree onto her kitchen’s tiled island. The papers skidded past the miniature tabletop Christmas tree toward her younger sister, Olivia. “And I’m taking back my maiden name. I’m going back to Cooper. I’ve finally figured out who I am.” And by God, she liked the woman she’d come to know.
“I wish you’d let me kick your ex-husbands’ no-good cheating butts.” Olivia’s gray eyes held a blood-thirsty glint.
Tammy laughed and shook her head as she scooped ice into the blender. Her quiet, conservative little sister had a whole other side. Especially now that Olivia was nine weeks pregnant. With her wildly fluctuating hormones, Olivia could shift from butt-kicking mad to uncontrollably weepy in sixty seconds.
“I appreciate the sentiment and I’ve thought about doing it myself a few times, but they’re not worth it. Men are all pretty much the same when you come right down to it. They’re made that way. Which means they’ll take good sex any way they can get it. Even mediocre sex. Hey, just make that readily available sex.”
Or at least that seemed to be the case with her ex-husbands. Tammy dressed sexy and she was an admitted flirt, but she’d taken her wedding vows seriously—she didn’t fool around when she was married and she didn’t fool around with someone else’s spouse. Unfortunately, her ex-husbands hadn’t shared her outlook.
She poured cranberry juice in the blender and tossed in pineapple chunks and a banana. She topped it off with a vitamin and soy packet.
Olivia pulled out two glasses from the cabinet. “Not all men are that way. You married good old boys who thought you should wait at home while they played the field.”
Not pretty, but apropos. “That about sums up Jerry, Allen and Earl.”
“But they’re not all like that. You just haven’t met the right man yet,” Olivia said.
Tammy shook her head. Newlyweds. They always wanted to share the love.
“Personally, I don’t believe in Mr. Right. But I wouldn’t mind a round or two with Mr. Right Now. A year without sex—” Olivia checked her with a raised brow. “Okay. If I have to count the attempted reconciliation quickie with Earl—and I shouldn’t have to because it wasn’t very good—then it’s been ten and a half months. But as of today, I’m no longer a married woman, so when Mr. Right Now comes along, watch out. It’s been so bad lately I’m afraid to be left alone in the produce section.” And she was only partly kidding. Ten and a half months was a long time.
During her separation, she’d been seriously tempted by two men. Earl’s sister’s husband, Tim, was a hottie. Tim had stroked her ego at a time she desperately needed it and offered to stroke other things. Lowell Evans, the town hunk, had also offered his own brand of solace. Hard as it’d been, she’d turned them both down.
“You can talk about Mr. Right Now, but I think you’re an incurable romantic beneath all that cynicism.” Speculation underlaid Olivia’s laugher.
“Nope. Wrong on both counts. I’m a reformed romantic who’s evolved into a realist.” It was almost embarrassing to recall her naive certainty at seventeen that she and Jerry would love one another forever. That had died a swift but painful death when she’d caught him boinking Lilly Lawson. She’d hoped for love ’til death do us part when she’d married Allen. By the time she’d married Earl—she wasn’t proud to admit it, even to herself—there’d been a hint of desperation in her pursuit of true love. “After three matrimonial rounds, I’ve figured out men consider fidelity a mutual fund investment.”
Olivia uttered a compound obscenity Tammy’d never heard her use before. Actually, she didn’t think Olivia knew words like that.
“Did you learn that from Luke?” It was still mind blowing Olivia had married a rebel like Luke Rutledge instead of Luke’s straight-arrow brother, whom she’d dated. Almost as strange as Tammy and Olivia becoming close friends and confidantes after thirty years of uneasy sisterhood.
Olivia smirked and pushed her tortoiseshell glasses more firmly on her nose. “No. I already knew it. But he does encourage me to use it.”
“Well, don’t get all wigged out about my exes. The way I see it, they did me a favor. Who knows if I would’ve even finished massage therapy school and I probably wouldn’t have opened my own business if I’d stayed with Earl.”
Indignation rolled off Olivia. “What a load of rot, telling you he was sleeping around because you were too busy with classes and work.”
Tammy shrugged and turned on the blender, grinding the fruit and ice to a smoothie. “He was an affair waiting to happen. If it’d been up to Earl, I’d still be doing acrylics in his sister’s salon and asking him for grocery money each week.”
Olivia would never know the half of it. Earl had made Tammy’s life hell. A shiver slid down her spine. Just talking about it made her appreciate what a close call she’d had.
Olivia swore again.
“You like that word don’t you?”
“It’s appropriate.”
“Well, at least half of it’s on target, but I don’t think it’s fair to drag his mother into it. Anyway, I’m kicking butt in the best way possible. Living well is the best revenge. I’ve got my own house, my own business, and I’ve done it on my own. All of them thought I was nothing without them. Hell, for the longest time, I thought I was nothing without them.”
Another mood shift struck again and Olivia teared up. “I am so proud of you. You’ve done great.”
“Thanks.” Olivia’s approval meant a lot to her. “I have done great.” Tammy loved her small house, her business and her newfound independence. She was doing better than great—not too shabby for the white-trash girl with the bad reputation whose mother abandoned their family and whose father couldn’t kick the bottle. And it had only taken her fifteen years and three bad marriages to find herself. She wasn’t about to get off track again.
She poured their liquid lunch into two glasses.
“I’d like to propose a toast,” Olivia said, hoisting her glass. “Goodbye, Earl.”
“I’ll drink to that.” She clinked her glass against her sister’s, elated to close that chapter of her life. She didn’t even want to talk about it anymore. She was her own woman now. “And here’s to spending the rest of my day off working on my Vitamin D therapy.” Tammy laughed at Olivia’s blank expression. “I’m going to work on my all-over tan.”
“You’re nuts. It’s November.”
“It’s gorgeous outside—a record high today and then it’s supposed to be twenty-five degrees cooler tomorrow. Plus the Walters’ place next door has been sold. That means my naked tanning days are numbered.”
And it was one of her favorite things to do. Between a screen of trees and her fence, she couldn’t see Mrs. Flander’s house to her right at all. Unfortunately, the Walters’ backyard offered an unencumbered view of her patio about halfway down the fence line.
“Go for it.” Olivia glanced at her watch and jumped up. “Gotta run. We’ve got a seniors’ book club meeting at the library in half an hour. Thanks for the smoothie, congrats on getting rid of Earl and enjoy your afternoon naked.”
“Thanks. Maybe I’ll get lucky and run into Mr. Right Now.” Olivia shook her head. Tammy laughed and pressed several smoothie additive packets into Olivia’s hand. “Don’t forget to drink one a day. It’s good for you and the babelet.”
“Yes, boss.”
Tammy waited until Olivia reached her car before she closed the front door.
It was time to get naked.
1
“I LIKE IT ALREADY.” Niall Fortson stood next to the U-Haul beneath the sprawling oak that encompassed the postage-stamp front yard. He breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with fresh, clean air.
As an army brat, he’d traipsed from military post to military post, all the while craving a place where he could put down roots and start a family. A place similar to his grandparents’ small town, where he’d spent his summers chasing fireflies at dusk and fishing the deep pools along the banks of the muddy Cohutta.
Colthersville, Georgia, was just where he wanted to be.
Gigi, a Pomeranian Chihuahua mix, and Memphis, a cream puff disguised as a bull mastiff, clambered out of the moving van.
Cissy Simpson, the local Realtor, kept a careful eye on Gigi and Memphis as she beamed and gestured toward the residential street with its modest frame houses. “It’s an older neighborhood, but quiet and the backyards are nice and big.” She flashed a professional smile and herded him up the walkway. “Just what you ordered and quite a deal.”
He followed Cissy toward the broad steps fronting the porch. Gigi and Memphis dashed around the yard, marking bushes with the frenzy of dogs in a new place.
“The dogs like it.”
“Good.” She smiled tightly at the dogs. Definitely a cat person. “Now let’s see…the front steps have been replaced. The whole house has a fresh coat of paint….”
His mind wandered while she ran through her litany of the owner’s improvements. The rambling frame house with its mullioned windows was a far cry from the brick-fronted Georgian tract mansion he’d shared with Mia in their cookie-cutter subdivision. He already preferred this.
And he’d feel the same even if he wasn’t still mildly—okay, actively—pissed off that Mia had flushed eight years together down the toilet rather than marry him. It wasn’t Colthersville or the move she’d objected to. They’d always planned on Niall buying into a small-town practice and on getting married. But when the time came, Mia had been willing to make the move but not willing to marry him, regardless of how important it was to him.
She’d dictated they could move on her terms or he could leave alone.
He’d left. The house. The furniture. Her. He’d grabbed his animals, his books, his veterinary journals and a hodgepodge of stuff from his college days that Mia had relegated to the basement, and left. Yeah, it still rankled.
“So, are you ready to see the inside?” Cissy stared at him expectantly.
He shook off the past. “Let me get the cats out first,” he said.
Cissy waited by the front door while he retrieved the cat carriers from the front seat of the moving van.
Niall mounted the steps with Tex and Lolita. “This is the new place, guys.” The cats blinked, still mellowed by tranquilizers.
“You’re a veritable Dr. Doolittle.” Cissy eyed the cats much more warmly than the dogs.
“Comes with being a veterinarian. We tend to like animals.”
“I see.” She obviously didn’t get his attempted humor. She opened the front door and gestured him inside. “Welcome home, Dr. Fortson.”
Niall stepped inside and settled the cat carriers next to the wall. Time worn hardwood floors smelled of wax. Sunlight slanted through uncurtained windows in the two rooms flanking the shotgun hall, casting diamond patterns on the wood floor. Even without curtains and furniture, it felt welcoming and comfortable.
“The bedrooms are upstairs.” Cissy gestured to a craftsman-styled staircase angled to the left.
He’d given her three criteria, a large, fenced yard, a dishwasher and a moderate price tag. Buying Dr. Schill’s vet practice had soaked up his cash.
The house’s price tag had been moderate. Cissy’d assured him it came with a dishwasher. He whistled for the dogs. “I’d like to check out the backyard.”
Cissy carefully avoided the dogs as they charged past, Gigi’s toenails clicking a rhythm on the wood floors while Memphis moved through like a small herd of elephants. “It’s straight ahead and out through the kitchen. Now, about the kitchen, it’s very—” Cissy hesitated, as if searching for a word.
Niall followed her into the room, then stopped in his tracks.
“Turquoise,” he supplied.
“Retro,” she countered.
“Yeah.” Christ. The kitchen hadn’t been part of Cissy’s cyber home tour. Now he knew why. “I didn’t know they made those in turquoise.”
Bright lemon yellow walls provided a backdrop for the blue-green appliances. He and Mia had dropped a couple of thousand dollars on a custom-designed refrigerator and dishwasher to match the cabinetry in their kitchen. “It’s, uh…”
“Cheery,” Cissy suggested with a bright smile. “I hate to run but I’ve got a two o’clock appointment.” She grabbed his hand and pumped it. Ye gods, the woman had the grip of a sumo wrestler. “Welcome to Colthersville and enjoy your new home.” She backed toward the hallway. “I’ll see myself out. Let me know if I can help you with anything else,” she called over her shoulder.
The front door closed behind Cissy and Niall crossed the cheery kitchen. He opened the back door and the dogs raced outside, clambering across a wooden deck to the fenced yard beyond.
Niall stepped out on the deck, satisfied. This more than made up for the kitchen. The majority of his half-acre lot sat behind the house, enclosed by a wooden privacy fence. Gigi and Memphis took off across the weed-studded lawn, a canine odd couple. A faint breeze stirred a swing into motion beneath a bare-branched oak. Spent wildflowers choked the lot’s back corner. A nostalgic air enveloped the property, as if time had stood still. The kitchen was definitely stuck in the seventies. He grinned at the notion.
The dogs loved it here already. The unmowed grass, although overgrown, appeared healthy. A sense of belonging he’d yearned for all his life enveloped him.
He looked at the property to the right. Whoa. A shapely pair of ankles and feet hung over the end of a chaise lounge. Interest strummed through him. Shrubs hid the rest of the woman—those feet and ankles could only belong to a woman. He’d obviously spent too much time behind the wheel of the moving van if he felt this much interest in a pair of legs—make that one-fifth of a pair of legs.
“Hello,” he called, loud enough to carry across the distance. The feet didn’t even twitch. “Hi, there.” He tried again, louder yet. Still no response. Maybe she was asleep. Or hard of hearing. The feet and ankles were nice, but, hell, she might be older than his own mother, for all he knew.
If he walked over to the fence and down a bit, he could probably see past the shrub. Niall nixed the idea, deliberately turning away. That’d be great. He could move into town and earn a reputation as a Peeping Tom, all in one afternoon. News traveled fast in small towns. Have you heard? The new vet’s a perve. He laughed into the warm day at the idea.
His laughter died a quick death as Gigi squeezed beneath the fencing—she’d found a hole—and disappeared to the other side. The side belonging to the geriatric sunbather. Damn it to hell. Gigi loved to nibble on toes—one of her more endearing traits.
“Gigi. Come. Come, Gigi,” he commanded.
Gigi behaved as usual. She ignored him, launching herself across the neighboring yard like a seven-pound rocket. Niall loped across his yard. Gigi was over there. He was over here. He aimed for damage control.
Just as he reached the fence line, Gigi attacked the bare toes hanging over the chaise. The woman screamed and leaped to her feet.
In an instant, Niall’s world tilted on its axis. She wasn’t geriatric and she was heart-stopping, blood-pumping naked. Except for a navel ring, earphones and a pair of sunglasses—and they didn’t particularly count.
Niall struggled to focus on the woman’s face. It was damn hard. She plucked off her earphones.
“Let me guess, you’re my new neighbor and this belongs to you.” She nodded toward Gigi who had commandeered the chaise lounge. Her distinctly southern drawl held more than a note of amusement.
With unhurried movements, the woman tugged the towel from beneath the dog and wrapped it around her, sarong-style, tucking the knot in the cleft of her breasts.
She lowered her glasses and peered over them, her sparkling blue eyes encouraging him to speak up. She appeared more amused than embarrassed. Although totally nude moments ago, she was calm, cool and collected. He, fully clothed, couldn’t seem to bumble through an introduction.
“Uh, yeah. Sorry about this. We’re your new neighbors. Meet Gigi. She’s more bravado than brains. I’m sorry we…uh…interrupted you.”
“No problem—I didn’t want to burn anyway.” Her friendly smile was faintly provocative.
“No. Burning would be bad.” Speechlessness was actually preferable to his inane banter.
“Give me a minute and I’ll meet you at my gate so you can get Gigi.” The woman turned toward her house, displaying an equally impressive towel-covered backside. Some men liked skinny, stick-women. He wasn’t one of them. And she was no stick. She glanced over her shoulder “Does she bite?”
“Huh?”
“The dog. Does she bite?” Laughter flavored her southern accent.
“Only unsuspecting toes.” He recovered his wit.
Smiling, she turned and disappeared into the house.
Niall felt sure the woman would be wearing more than her towel and navel ring when she showed up at the back gate. He wasn’t so sure whether he’d be relieved or disappointed.
But he did know he liked the neighborhood already.
BUTT-ASS NAKED was a helluva way to meet the new neighbor. There were probably worse ways to meet the new folks other than in her birthday suit, although none immediately came to mind.
Given his slack-jawed response, she’d definitely made an impression. For the first time in as long as she could recall, she’d actually felt self-conscious about her nudity. Apparently he was a new species of man. The ones she knew were the ogling variety. The way he’d carefully looked her in the eye rather than ogle her had compelled her to cover herself. But a hint of her bad girl tendencies had remained because she’d found the situation stimulating.
He was fully dressed—well, as far as she could tell, with only his head and shoulders sticking up over her fence—and still she’d felt a powerful tug of attraction. As she’d told Olivia earlier, she was in a bad way.
Out of deference to her new neighbor’s sensibilities, and the wife and two kids probably lurking in the background, Tammy pulled on her jeans and shirt, which she’d draped over the kitchen chair, the fabric playing against her still stimulated parts.
She wasn’t kowtowing to public opinion, but she’d become a little more circumspect since she’d gone into business for herself. She glanced down at her plunging neckline and hip huggers and laughed. It was more conservative than wearing a towel.
She stepped out onto the patio. There, Gigi lounged indolently on the chaise, full of bold attitude. Tammy laughed at the audacity of the funny-looking little dog. “Come on, you. Your family wants you back.” She walked past the dog and snapped her fingers.
Surprisingly, Gigi hopped down and flounced along beside her.
The lush grass cushioned her bare feet as she crossed the yard to her waiting neighbor. The man’s dark brown hair, a few weeks past a good haircut, glinted in the sun. Nice square jaw, his hooked nose a shade too big by most standards but very masculine. Even now, fully clothed, self-consciousness caused her to flush as she approached him.
“One small dog returned to you.” She opened the gate and the little dog pranced through.
A worn T-shirt hung on him, revealing well-muscled arms. Even though he was built like a former linebacker—who’d managed not to go to fat—his stance lacked the aggressive arrogance so common in big men. Nerves fluttered low in her belly.
“On the porch, Gigi,” he ordered with affectionate tolerance, then turned to face Tammy. Her breath hitched in her throat. Oh, baby! Up close, he possessed the most extraordinary, soulful, brown eyes—yummy, sinfully rich pools of dark chocolate flecked with caramel framed by long dark lashes. They were a sensuous contrast to the masculine lines of his face and his strong nose. Their impact coursed through her all the way to her toes and sent her mind tumbling between the sheets.
“I apologize again for Gigi’s bad manners. I’m Niall Fortson.” He extended a massive hand.
Hadn’t she heard once that the size of a man’s hand, or was it his feet—instinctively she glanced down—indicated the size of…She yanked her gaze up and her mind out of the gutter. She had to stop thinking this way.
“I’m Tammy Bran-uh, Cooper,” she stumbled over the last name, but now was as good a time as any to go back to her maiden name. “No harm done with Gigi.” She grasped his hand. His palm was warm and dry, his clasp sure and solid, and his touch echoed through her, setting off sparks. She desperately needed a good…dose of control. One touch and she was ready to jump him.
Her hand still tingled, even after the handshake ended. Actually his touch had more than her hand tingling. She checked out his ring finger. Naked. Of course, the lack of a wedding ring didn’t mean much. Any minute now she expected a perky blonde to bounce around the corner with a couple of cute-as-pie kids in tow. Gigi had woman’s dog written all over her. Tammy discreetly squinted past him to his front porch.
“Are you looking for something?” He glanced over his shoulder.
So much for discretion. “Just thought I’d meet the rest of the family.”
Niall whistled. A massive dog lumbered out the front door. “Tammy meet Memphis. Memphis, Tammy Cooper.”
Memphis hiked a leg before ambling over to sniff her crotch in greeting—definitely a man’s dog. “Uh, hi there,” she offered. Good grief, her entire hand would fit in the dog’s massive mouth.
“He’s harmless,” Niall reassured her.
“I’ll take your word for it.” She wasn’t nearly as comfortable with this beast as she was with the toe-biter.
He laughed, a low pleasing rumble that slid over her like a warm blanket on a cold night. “So, you’ve met Memphis and Gigi. The cats are still in their carriers. They don’t travel well so I sedated them before we left.” He grimaced.
Okay, this was why she usually skipped subtlety. It didn’t get her anywhere. She’d met her fair share of married men who conveniently forgot to mention the wife and kids. She’d openly fish and if he didn’t bite she’d point blank ask him if he was married. “We as in the rest of your family?”
He grinned and she realized he’d known all along she wanted to find out he was married. “We as in me and the animals. No kids. And my ex-live-in—or significant other, whatever you want to call her—stayed with the house in Oklahoma City.”
The significant other business surprised her. Niall Fortson didn’t look like the shacking up type. She didn’t exactly know what the shacking up type looked like but it wasn’t him. The ex-significant other explained Gigi.
“Gigi belonged to your ex?” She’d bet the farm.
Surprise flitted across his face. “How’d you know?”
Aha. Her instincts hadn’t failed her. “Lucky guess. How’d you wind up with her? The dog, not your ex.” Shoot her for being nosy, but inquiring minds wanted to know.
“Mia wanted Gigi and then decided she was too high-maintenance.”
Mia. She sounded like an urbane sitcom character. Tammy had a feeling the woman had been far more high-maintenance than the dog.
He peered over her shoulder in teasing imitation. “What about your family?”
Tammy laughed at his easy ribbing. “It’s just me.” It felt good to say that—no, make that great. “My ex-husbands, all three of them, stayed with the houses.” Might as well air the multiple divorces up front.
“Probably a good thing. It could get crowded with three ex-husbands hanging around.” Niall quirked his mouth in a lopsided smile that started in his eyes and radiated to engage the rest of his face. A small scar along his upper lip added a hint of rugged sexiness. Tammy’s pulse quickened and a slow heat curled through her. A sense of humor and a bone-melting smile. “Any pets?”
“No. No pets.”
“And now you’re living next to Wild Kingdom.” Another dose of that smile and her heart rate did another bump and grind. “I’ll try to keep Gigi on my side of the fence.”
“Your animals are fine. I don’t have anything against animals—I just don’t want the responsibility.” Or another gaping wound that came with losing a pet. Once had been enough. Pets and kids were cool as long as they belonged to someone else.
Thank God she’d had the sense to go on the pill at a young age and not jump into motherhood during any of her marriages. She’d been thrown into the mother role when Martha Rae, as she’d thought of her mom for years now, abandoned their family. Not only had Tammy done a lousy job mothering Olivia and their brother Marty, she’d had enough of it to last a lifetime.
“They do require commitment.” Did she simply imagine it or did his ready smile falter a bit? He obviously had a thing for animals.
“What brings you to Colthersville?” Tammy asked, filling in what had become an awkward silence. And she was curious.
“I’m a vet. I’m joining Dr. Schill’s practice.”
Didn’t that just rip? Yeah, he had a thing for animals. “Congratulations. Dr. Schill’s a good vet, even if he is an old goat.”
Surprise raised his brows. “Okay. Thanks for the information.”
She thought she’d shown some restraint. She positively loathed the man. She could’ve called him a lech. It was a much more accurate description. “Sorry. I call ’em the way I see ’em. I was married to Dr. Schill’s son.”
Niall winced. “Things didn’t end well?”
The beginning had been great with Allen and the ending had been fine. It was the in between that had stunk on ice. From the day they’d married, Dr. Schill acted as if Tammy wasn’t good enough for his son. Then the randy old goat had cornered her in the kitchen and put the move on her one Thanksgiving. A well-placed knee had taken care of the immediate situation. Later, when she’d mentioned it to Allen, he’d defended his father, claiming Tammy had misunderstood his dad. In her book, it was difficult to misunderstand the old guy squeezing her breasts. Her marriage had gone downhill from there.
She shrugged. “It was a long time ago. Allen was my second husband. He’s remarried and he and Jenna have two kids now, so all’s well.”
An ant marched across her bare foot. She shifted to one foot and nudged it off with her toe, swaying slightly. Niall reached out and wrapped his hand around her upper arm. “Steady.”
“Thanks.” A soft shiver slid down her spine at his touch. He dropped his hand and in an instant she was back to two feet firmly on the ground, but the heat evoked by his touch continued to radiate through her.
“It’s safe to mention you’re the girl next door?”
She laughed aloud at the idea of her being the girl next door. Like any other place, small or otherwise, Colthersville had its share of gossips and she’d given them plenty to talk about over the years. It’d take about two seconds for anyone in Colthersville to fill him in on her reputation.
“That’d be a poor choice of words. I don’t think anyone who knows me would buy into the girl next door label. I’m the resident bad girl.”
And he might just be Mr. Right Now.
2
“BAD IS A RELATIVE TERM. You don’t strike me as bad at all.” As a rule, Niall liked people—almost as much as he liked animals—but in the span of five minutes he found himself inordinately drawn to Tammy Cooper.
A cynic would’ve said it was due to his first glimpse of her naked, but it was more than that. Of course, he’d never forget that first sight of her—and she wasn’t going to let him, either.
“In case you missed it, I was naked when I met you.” He would’ve had to be dead to have missed it but, thank you, Jesus, he’d been alive, cognizant and fully appreciative. “Has it been your experience that nice girls sit around naked?” Her amazing blue eyes sparkled. The little vixen was thoroughly enjoying needling him.
“Actually, I have very little experience with women sitting around naked. Nice or otherwise.” If she wanted to play the bad girl, he’d play her straight man.
Niall propped his arm against the fence and really looked at Tammy Cooper—a much safer proposition now that she was fully clothed. Bottle-blond hair just this side of brassy—he’d known from when she jumped up earlier she wasn’t a true blonde. Sky-blue eyes with a hint of wariness beneath all the makeup. Gauzy, white shirt with a plunging neckline and the provocative thrust of dusky nipples. Bare midriff with a gold navel ring—he had no clue why that was such a turn-on but it was—above low-slung jeans. Bare feet with a toe ring. Very sexy. “However, I hardly think that naked qualifies you as a bad girl.”
She tilted her head, her hair sweeping against her shoulder. She smelled like coconut and her golden skin glistened with suntan lotion. “Did you miss the three husbands I mentioned?” A thread of tension ran through her laughing banter.
No. He hadn’t missed her obvious attempt to warn him off. Instead of off-putting, he found it intriguing. “Duly noted.” Niall, known for his congeniality, discovered a perverse pleasure in arguing with her. “I thought you were very nice about Gigi. You didn’t throw a screaming fit when she surprised you.” Mia damn well would’ve and Cissy, the Realtor, had certainly maintained her distance. “Instead you laughed.”
His comment coaxed another laugh and a one-shouldered shrug, which did incredible things to the low neckline of her blouse, which in turn did incredible things to his breathing. She had a nice laugh—warm, throaty, sexy. Hell, she turned simple breathing into a sexy experience.
“Tiny Mite the Attack Dog was funny.” Her husky voice stroked through him, firing all those impulses inside that hadn’t fired in a long time—perhaps ever. He and Mia had shared a healthy sexual relationship but he’d never experienced this kind of reaction to a woman before. And it wasn’t just because he’d seen her naked. She exuded an innate sensuality that brought to mind sweat-slicked bodies and hot, sticky sex.
Inside her house, the phone rang. She stepped away.
“I’ll try and keep Gigi in my yard.”
“Don’t worry about it.” She winked at him. Deliberately. Provocatively. “And I’ll let you in on a secret. Even bad girls like to laugh.”
He didn’t think he’d forget it anytime soon.
INVITING NIALL Fortson over for dinner was the neighborly thing to do, she reasoned as she rubbed fresh, pungent garlic and black pepper over two thick steaks. It had nothing to do with his sense of humor, his chocolate brown eyes or the heat tremors he’d set off with a single handshake. Well, maybe it had a little to do with that, but mostly it was a matter of being neighborly. She knew all about moving into a neighborhood without a friendly welcome. It was the pits.
The man traveled light, she’d give him that. It was a small moving van and it hadn’t taken him long to unload. He’d carried in a Nautilus machine with apparent ease when she’d returned from the grocery store earlier, which explained his nicely muscled shoulders and arms.
She washed and dried her hands. She was being weird and neurotic to be so nervous about inviting him into her space. For sweet pity’s sake, it was a house, not some inner sanctum. Before she could change her mind again and weenie out, she slipped out the back door. Tammy crossed the yard to his front door and rang the bell.
Sharp, staccato barking erupted on the opposite side of the door. “It’s me. From next door.”
Surprisingly, the barking stopped. Within seconds Niall opened the door, a towel in one hand. “Hi.” A welcoming smile lit his eyes and set off an internal heat wave. “I just got out of the shower,” he added with a charming note of self-consciousness.
That visual image left her nearly breathless. She didn’t have to close her eyes to imagine hot water sluicing over his bare, male, hair-roughened body. Droplets of water clinging to his broad chest, the flat planes of his belly, the jutting line of his…
She’d been good way too long. She’d focused on her business and her house. Now she was in close proximity to a decent man and she felt like a nymphomaniac turned loose on a football team. Overwrought, oversexed and out of control.
She tried to focus. Where were they? Oh, yeah. Him. Just out of the shower.
“I see.” Damp footprints glistened against the dark hardwood floor. Niall’s wet hair stuck up as if he’d just toweled it. He’d traded in jeans and a T-shirt for a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. There was a disquieting intimacy and eroticism in his bare feet, with their masculine sprinkling of hair. There was also something inherently sexy in his tousled hair, the scent of male deodorant and warm, damp skin. “Is this a bad time?” she managed to ask.
“No. Not at all.” Gigi danced around Tammy’s legs. “Back off, Gigi,” he ordered with a shake of his head. He glanced at Tammy, his brown eyes full of laughing apology. “She likes you. Unfortunately, Gigi is obnoxious around anyone who is the object of her affections.”
“She’s fine.” Tammy found the little dog’s outgoing cuteness disconcerting—she didn’t ever want to feel attachment to an animal again—but not obnoxious.
Niall stood aside. “Come in if you’re not afraid of the boxes and the beasts.”
Tammy stepped into his house, past his male, fresh-showered scent. “I came over to offer dinner. Nothing fancy. Just steak, salad and potato.”
“How fast can I say yes?”
For an instant she thought he might scoop her up and kiss her, he looked so excited at the prospect of food. And there were worse things that could happen. He had a nice firm mouth and that intriguing scar on his upper lip.
She’d been pretty sure Niall wouldn’t turn down her invitation to a hot meal. Exactly what kind of invitation would he turn down, if any?
“That was fast enough. Why don’t you come over in about half an hour? We can wash down some chips and salsa with cold beers before dinner.”
“Cold beer?” Niall looked like he’d died and gone to heaven.
“Yep.” And if he looked any sexier, with his tousled hair and hint of a five o’clock shadow darkening his jaw, she couldn’t be held accountable for her actions.
“Hot salsa?” His voice held a ragged edge.
She swallowed hard, her breath as ragged as his tone. The connection between food and sex had never been so achingly apparent. “It’s the only way I like it. The hotter, the better.”
“I’ll be over as soon as I change and clean up a bit. I need to find my razor.” He ran a hand along his jaw and offered a rueful smile.
“You’re fine.” Unshaven and undressed would be even finer.
“It’ll get better once I unpack.”
She’d been so caught up in Niall she hadn’t paid any attention to the house. Now she openly looked around. To the left of the door, the Nautilus machine sat in the middle of the dining room beneath a wrought-iron chandelier. In the den, to her right, a worn bookcase stood sentinel to an equally worn sofa, a scarred coffee table, a floor lamp that reminded her of the one at Pops’s house, and half a dozen moving boxes. He owned some butt-ugly furniture, that was for sure.
“You travel pretty light.”
Niall shrugged and his expression tightened. He jerked a thumb toward the den. “This was stuff from my days in vet school.”
Hmmm. She’d bet a dollar to a donut the ex in Oklahoma was parked on a much better-looking sofa.
“I’d offer you a tour, but I’m sure you’ve seen the house before.”
“Actually, I’ve never been inside. An older couple lived here before. They moved out a few months after I moved in. I’ve lived next door for less than a year.” She didn’t mention it had taken almost the whole seven months she’d lived in the house for the neighbors to accept her. Tammy wasn’t sure whether they’d been disappointed or relieved when time had proven she was just another home owner, not a wild orgy hostess. The fact of the matter was, Tammy was a bit of a loner. Olivia was her only visitor, except for the time her brother Marty had stopped in to borrow twenty bucks to buy a bottle of booze.
“Then how about the grand tour?” Without waiting for an answer, he started. “To your left is the former dining room, now known as the workout room.” She chuckled at his very guylike grin. “To your right is the den. The one-eared tabby on the back of the sofa is Tex. The orange cat peering between the boxes is Lolita.” When she heard her name, the marmalade cat limped from her hiding spot and leaped to the sofa to join Tex—pretty agile for a cat with only three legs.
“Hi, Tex. Hi, Lolita.” Tex returned her greeting with a basilisk stare and Lolita yawned daintily. They were the most pathetic-looking cats she’d ever seen. Niall Fortson seemed to have a soft spot for rejects.
“They stay indoors, so they won’t rush your yard the way Gigi did,” he explained with a smile as he ushered her down the hall to a doorway at the end. His fingers rested lightly against the small of her back and awareness whispered along her nerve endings. “Prepare yourself.” He looked at her with a hint of consternation. “Too bad you don’t have any shades with you.” He threw open the door. “Behold the kitchen.”
Beautiful sunny walls embraced turquoise countertops and appliances. It reminded her of a Mexican plaza on a warm afternoon. “Awesome. I love it.”
“You do?” His expression verged on comical. Obviously that wasn’t his take.
“Of course. How could anyone ever be depressed in such a great room?” She couldn’t frown in this room even if she wanted to. “Doesn’t it make you want to smile when you walk in?”
“Uh…” Apparently not.
Tammy pressed on, caught up in the room’s potential. “Some orange—well, really more like tangerine—curtains with the yellow and turquoise in them would tie everything together. Maybe toss in a splash of lime green. Funky but fun, in a happy kind of way.”
If that didn’t scare the bejezus out of him, nothing would. Men freaked when women made suggestions about their space, place or person. Jerry had nearly lost his mind when she’d vetoed hanging a mounted deer head in their bedroom—like she wanted a dead Bambi eyeballing her when she was trying to sleep or do other things. Niall looked a tad bemused, much like when he’d seen her naked earlier. “Orange?”
“Hmm. Tangerine. Trust me. I’ve been into this decorating thing lately.” She’d had a blast with her own house, discovering a sense of style she never knew she possessed.
“Okay. I can use all the help I can get.” He looked around the room, as if he could actually see it taking on a new appeal. “Funky but fun.”
Tammy leaned against the counter and laughed. “You’ve never done funky before?”
Niall ran a hand over his hair which did nothing to smooth it down. “No. But I wouldn’t mind giving it a try. I wanted a fresh start.” He glanced at the turquoise refrigerator and shook his head. “It’s definitely funky compared to matching cherry cabinetry.”
“It sounds hideously traditional and conservative.” Tammy would take the wild, bold beauty of this room over matching cherry any day.
Niall laughed. “I wouldn’t call it hideous, but it was conservative, except for the price tag. I’ll try to remember tangerine with yellow and turquoise.”
“Just go into Bergman’s and look a little lost. Women will fall all over themselves to help you.”
“I can certainly manage to look lost. That won’t be a problem. I’m not sure about the falling all over themselves business.” On some men, the modesty would’ve been calculated. Niall actually seemed clueless that the single women of Colthersville would be on him like white on rice.
“Trust me on this. I’m sure and I’m a woman.”
“I noticed.” The husky note in his voice and the look in his eyes trailed heat through her.
Awareness arced between them. She eased her tongue along her dry bottom lip and he clenched his jaw. A whine and a scratch at the back door eased the tension of a man and a woman in close quarters and brought them back to two neighbors chatting in the kitchen. Niall opened the door.
“I know where the clinic is, but other than that I’m clueless. What and where is Bergman’s?” he asked as the Big Dog lumbered in and ambled over to sniff Tammy.
Time for her to go. She didn’t trust Big Dog with his crotch-sniffing and enormous jaws. No one could ever accuse Niall of being a shallow pet owner—he hadn’t chosen his animals based on beauty, that was for sure.
She headed back down the hall toward the front door. “It’s the local everything store. Just watch out for Henrietta Williams, the owner. She’s a woman with a mission—finding a husband for her daughter Candy.”
Niall followed, his masculine scent of soap and deodorant teasing her from behind. “And what would be so bad about that?”
He had to ask? “You could wake up and find yourself married before you knew what hit you.”
He reached around her, close enough that she felt his body heat, and opened the door for her. “I’m ready to settle down.”
Tammy stepped out onto the porch, away from temptation. He was sexy, single…and looking to get married?
What a shame.
3
NIALL TOOK the long way to Tammy’s via the sidewalk rather than across the yard. Despite the warmth of the day, the temperature had plummeted when the sun disappeared. Between the crisp air and the colorful Christmas decorations on the houses, it felt and looked like late November.
Multicolored lights blinked on a Christmas tree in Tammy’s front window. A plastic nativity set glowed on her front lawn. He wasn’t sure whether he was the luckiest or the unluckiest sod in the world to be living next door to Tammy Cooper. She was sexy, flirty and simply being around her threw him seriously off balance. Niall didn’t do off-kilter. He expected things to be a certain way and they usually were.
His stomach rumbled as he knocked on the front door. He was starving. A fast-food lunch snagged from a drive-thru along the way had been a long time ago. He’d accept a meal from Genghis Khan.
Tammy opened the door with a smile that did dangerous things to his pulse.
“Hi, come on in.”
She looked and smelled a whole lot better than Genghis. She’d changed into a black shirt and pants that hugged her feminine curves. Bracelets encircled half the length between her wrist and forearm. Her scent, an exotic blend of spices, tantalized him. A harem girl fantasy popped into his tired, overwrought brain and refused to budge. Her wearing only those bracelets and a bunch of veils. Smooth gold skin. Navel ring. Her exotic fragrance.
Niall stepped inside and her arm brushed against his. Heat sizzled though him at the brief contact. What kind of heat would an intentional caress generate? Maybe he was simply tired and hungry but she blew his composure to hell. He turned to face her as she closed the door behind him. “I brought a six-pack of beer. Unfortunately, it’s warm, but I didn’t want to show up empty-handed.”
She took the package. “You didn’t have to do that, but thanks.”
Niall looked around the room, convinced that was a better plan than gawking at her.
If his kitchen was happy, her house was nearly ecstatic. From outside, it looked like the other neighborhood houses, but inside it was bright and bold. Yellow-gold walls and furniture in a mix of reds, purples and bright blues created a room that was comfortable and inviting without being fussy. “This is great.”
For a moment he glimpsed something akin to insecurity in her eyes—as if she’d been nervous about his response to her house. Quick as a flash it was gone and she smiled, obviously pleased by his response. “Yeah. I like it. Sort of vintage meets eclectic. I’m still working on it, but it’s been fun. That’s one of the great things about living alone. You only have to please yourself.” She arched her brow. “I bet Mia never let you keep your workout equipment in the dining room.”
Niall grinned at the thought of his Nautilus machine sandwiched between Ethan Allen dining room pieces. “How’d you know?”
“Woman’s intuition.” Her slow smile spiraled heat through him. “Come on. If you don’t mind hanging out in the kitchen. You can put a dent in the chips and salsa while I make the salad. You must be ravenous.”
“I wouldn’t turn food down. Thanks for inviting me over. Something smells good.” His stomach growled as backup.
“Bread and baked potatoes. The steaks will only take a minute.” He followed her, mesmerized by the sway of her hips and the curve of her back. She pointed to a small hallway to the right. “Bathroom and two bedrooms over there. This is really more of a cottage than a house but it’s mine.” The note of pride in her declaration was unmistakable. “And here’s the kitchen.”
At least a dozen flickering candles, of various shapes and sizes, casts shadows on the walls, creating a cozy intimacy in the galley kitchen despite the regular lighting over the sink. From the wax puddles, Niall surmised Tammy was into a candlelit kitchen, guest or no guest. Vintage Al Green crooned from a cabinet-mounted CD player. Lots of atmosphere. Very sexy. Very relaxing. “Very nice.”
“Thanks. Have a seat and I’ll get you something to drink. How about one of those beers you drooled over earlier?”
“I’m holding you to it.” Niall settled on a stool at a tile-topped island that doubled as a table in the compact kitchen. A large bowl of chips, salsa and guacamole sat in the middle of the island.
“One beer coming up.” She opened the fridge and bent forward, molding her black slacks across her heart-shaped bottom and damn near giving him a heart attack. “Help yourself to the chips and salsa. Be careful with the salsa. It’s hot.”
“That’s what you said earlier. I’m sure I can handle it.” He stared at the smooth expanse of skin bared by her shirt riding up above the waist of her pants, not nearly as confident he could handle himself around her.
She straightened, two beer bottles in hand and a smile lighting face. “Ah, a man after my own heart.”
She pulled a couple of frosty mugs from the freezer and opened the bottles. “How do you like it? Head or no head?”
Holy mother of Christ. His earlier harem girl fantasy supplied a mental image that left him happy to be seated. It promised to be one long night if he continued to read sexual meaning into her every utterance. “Head, please.”
She offered another slow, sexy smile that sizzled through him. “Coming right up.”
Yeah, he was.
“I like head, as well. There you are.” She carefully placed the beer on the tile in front of him.
“Thanks.”
She sat across from him. Her foot skimmed his calf, sending heat spiraling through him. “Sorry,” she murmured as she shifted.
The moment pulsed with a sensuality that left him breathless. Her scent. The candles. The music. Her touch. Her provocative comments.
“Please. Have some.”
He gave way to temptation and sampled what was in front of him. “Good chips and salsa.” Hot enough to keep him awake but not incendiary. He took a long pull of beer, relishing the cold bite of hops and foam against his tongue and throat. “Ahh, just the thing at the end of a move.”
“Why Colthersville?” she asked. Niall noticed her upper lip was slightly larger than her lower lip, giving her mouth a sensuous pout.
“I grew up a Navy brat. Sixteen different schools from kindergarten to high school. Of all the places we lived, I liked the south the best—the people, the weather, the food. Plus I spent my summers in a small town, Raeburn, with my grandparents. I knew from the time I was a kid, small-town life was for me. When I heard Dr. Schill was selling his practice, I went for it. Colthersville seems like a nice place to settle down and raise a family.”
Slightly embarrassed, Niall realized he’d just offered a long-winded soliloquy of his life. And that was probably more information than she wanted or needed. She was too easy to talk to. “What about you? You said you’d only lived here a couple of months?”
Tammy sipped her beer. White flecks of foam clung to her upper lip. She swiped her tongue along the full line of her mouth, devastating his concentration and composure. “My roots run deep in Colthersville. I was born and raised here. I only bought this house eight months ago. I’d been living with Pops after Earl and I split up.”
She spoke matter of factly about her divorce. Not that he wanted her crying in her beer, but she didn’t seem particularly brokenhearted or pissed or bitter—all very real emotions he’d seen in other divorced couples. He wasn’t brokenhearted and he wasn’t bitter, but he was pissed about his breakup with Mia. Maybe she’d worked through all of the above. “How long have you been divorced?”
She circled the rim of her mug with her fingertip. “Almost twenty-four hours.” She laughed at the surprise that must’ve shown on his face. “How about you? Well, not divorced but, ya know, splitsville?”
“Things were over a couple of months ago. I wanted to get married. She didn’t. I stayed in the house until it was time for me to move.”
She crumbled a chip into small pieces on her saucer. “That must’ve been a party.”
It had been damn awkward. “Luckily it was a big house and we tried to stay out of each other’s way.”
“Do you miss her?” Her soft question surprised him. No one had asked him that.
Denial sat on the tip of his tongue, driven by pride. But the sincere curiosity on Tammy’s face prompted him to say what he hadn’t faced before now. “Yeah, I guess I do. We were friends. At least we were ’til the end.”
“Maybe you’ll get back together.” She pushed her chin-length hair behind her ear.
“No.” That wasn’t pride talking, just surety. “There’s not a lot of middle ground when one person wants to get married and the other one doesn’t. Even that aside, it felt final when I left. It’s over.” For the first time he could say it without a bitter note.
She nodded, her blue eyes inscrutable. “Earl and I tried a year’s separation, but it was over when I moved out.”
“Do you miss him?”
“I did at first. Until I realized how much I liked being on my own.”
He was ridiculously relieved she wasn’t pining for her ex-husband.
“The papers came today,” she continued. “Sunbathing is my way of celebrating!”
It was a provocative reminder. “Do you do that often?” he asked, recalling with gut-clenching clarity her full, dusky-tipped breasts, the glint of her navel ring against her golden skin, the tangle of curls nestled between her thighs and the length of her legs.
“Which one? Divorce or sunbathe naked?” Her smile seduced. “Neither one anymore. That was my third strike and I’m out of the marriage game for good—” he didn’t have to be a boy genius to figure that one out “—and as for the other, I don’t want to upset the new neighbors.”
“I can’t speak for the other neighbors, but don’t let me cramp your style.” He wasn’t normally much of a flirt, but Tammy’s easy sensuality inspired him.
“Ah, but can I trust Gigi to leave my naked toes alone? They’re very sensitive, you know.” She glanced at him from beneath her lashes. One playful comment, a provocative look and she totally turned him on.
“I’m sure they are.” The thought of sensitive naked toes and sensitive naked other parts left him aching. Talking about something other than naked parts might not be a bad idea. Besides, he found that the more he knew about her, the more he wanted to know. “What do you do?”
“I’m a massage therapist.” Oh, hell, that just intensified the naked parts fantasies lurking at the back of his mind. “I started my own business five months ago and it’s going well.” Her husky laugh held an underlying note of self-consciousness. “I finally figured out what I wanted to be when I grew up. Before that I did a little bit of everything. I was a nail technician, a waitress, and a grocery store checkout clerk.” She propped her chin in her hand and fixed him with her bright blue eyes. “How about you? How long have you been a vet?”
She looked as if she really cared and wasn’t just making polite conversation. Actually, Tammy impressed him as doing exactly what she wanted and the niceties be damned. She’d certainly been forthright about Schill, her ex-husbands and her reputation.
“I finished vet school five years ago, but I knew that’s what I wanted to do from the time I was a kid. Except for the summer I was six and wanted to drive an ice-cream truck.”
Tammy laughed, “Talk about a shift in ambition. Why a vet?”
“It just felt right. I’ve always liked animals and I like to fix things. I drove my mom nuts bringing home sick animals.”
Throughout the meal preparation and dinner, they discussed everything from movies—she preferred suspense rather than his action thrillers—to the NFL playoffs. With a start, Niall realized they’d finished eating some time ago and a number of the candles had burned low.
Reluctantly, he pushed away from the island. “Thanks for a great dinner. I should be getting home.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed himself so much. “Let me help with the dishes before I go.”
“They’re no big deal.” Tammy blew off his offer.
“Good. Then it shouldn’t take us long to get them done.”
“A man who does dishes—let this get out and the women really will swamp you.”
Twice she’d alluded to other women swamping him. Was she trying to tell him she wasn’t interested? But he hadn’t gotten that impression at all. She felt the attraction between them—he’d seen it in her eyes more than once tonight.
“Didn’t any of your husbands ever help out in the kitchen?” He was no saint, but his mother had taught him and his brother and sister to clean up after themselves, and he’d figured out early on that cutting the work in half left more time for him and Mia. Not only was he not into having someone wait on him, it led to sex on a much more regular basis.
“Jerry, my first husband, thought wife was another word for maid. I was so young and dumb at seventeen, I went along with it, but Allen and Earl were okay.”
“Seventeen?” That seemed incredibly young. The summer Niall was seventeen, his father’d been stationed in Southern California at Point Magu. He’d spent his time cruising the Pacific Highway in his buddy’s beat-up convertible and learning to surf. Tammy’d already been married.
“It seemed like the thing to do at the time.” Her husky voice feathered across his skin. He turned to pass the plates to her as she spoke. Squeezed into the tight space between the island and the sink, her hip bumped his thigh and his arm pressed against hers. He’d never been aware of a woman to such a devastating degree. He felt on fire for her.
“Do you regret getting married so young?” He didn’t normally quiz people this way, but he felt compelled to know more about her—everything about her.
She looked up at him, her eyes serious. “Regret’s pointless—a waste of energy. We’re shaped by our past. If you regret where you’ve been, how can you like who you’ve become?” She closed the dishwasher and dried her hands. As if blown away by a gust of wind, her intensity vanished and she was once again flashing a naughty-girl smile. “Now I’m going to give you directions to the grocery store because the neighbors will talk if you show up for breakfast tomorrow morning.”
Tammy pulled a pen and paper out of a drawer. Bracing one hand on the island, Niall leaned over her shoulder. He forgot to read what she was writing, distracted by her nearness. An errant lock of her hair brushed against his chin as she looked up. Her breath fanned against his chin, her scent wrapped around him. In the light of the flickering candles and small lamp, her skin glowed and her blue eyes darkened.
God help him, but it was a subtle form of mental torture that he’d seen her naked before and now she was close and real and he wanted to see her naked again. But more than that, even though he’d spent the whole evening talking and laughing with her, he had the distinct impression several layers concealed the real Tammy Cooper. She’d been blunt and free and easy with personal information, but she’d only let him see what she wanted him to see.
Longing, unlike any he’d known before, gripped him. He reached out to touch her cheek, the yearning to test the satin of her skin against his finger and feel the fullness of her mouth against his almost a physical ache. Her lips were so close, so tempting, he could feel her warm breath against his mouth, could almost taste her…
At the last minute, sanity prevailed and he reached for the paper instead. He’d almost made a total ass of himself by repaying her courtesy and hospitality by making a pass at her.
For a moment something flickered across her face. Disappointment? Vulnerability? Niall’s own emotions were so tossed, he wasn’t sure. He just knew he needed to get out of here. “Thank you. For everything.”
Tammy escorted him to the front door, once again in control, her unguarded moment gone. “You’re welcome for everything.” She leaned forward, her body maddingly close. Her scent, her heat drew him closer til the tips of her nipples seared him through their layers of clothes. With a soft laugh, Tammy tugged his head down, her fingers soft against his neck. She pressed a quick, hot kiss to his mouth. The kiss was almost over before it’d begun. She opened the door for him. “Good night, Niall. My number’s on the paper. Give me a call if you need anything.”
At that moment Niall realized the distinct difference between want and need.
TAMMY WELCOMED her regular work routine the next morning. Last night’s dinner with Niall had left her restless. For the first time since she’d moved into her house, she’d known the discontent of her own company once he’d gone home. Worse yet, self-pleasure with Big Ben had fallen short of the mark, merely accentuating the longing Niall had stirred in her. Two D-cell batteries couldn’t mimic his breath stirring against her neck or the cautious heat in his dark eyes. She’d been so sure he was going to kiss her. She’d practically trembled with anticipation. She’d been so surprised when he hadn’t…. He’d left her no option except to kiss him instead and give him something to think about overnight. She’d certainly thought about it. And now she had a business to think about.
Tammy unlocked the old-fashioned, glass-fronted door that faced the town square. Saturdays were always booked and today was no exception. One of the smartest business decisions she’d made was taking Fridays off and opening Saturdays to accommodate clients’ work schedules or stay-at-home moms who needed to leave the kidlets with dad to make an appointment.
Her first appointment, Willette Tidwell, was in fifteen minutes, which meant Tammy had half an hour to kill, since Willette would be late to her own funeral when the time came.
She knelt on the Harlequin-tiled floor and leaned in to arrange an orange-ginger scented gift set beneath the Christmas tree in the narrow window front. Just enough time to finish the Christmas display. She’d sold three gift sets already this week.
The bell tinkled as the door opened behind her. She twisted around. Uh-oh. Lowell Evans.
“Hey, Tammy.”
“What’s up, Lowell?” She rose to her feet, sure she knew why Lowell had stopped by. She’d told him she wouldn’t go out with him until her divorce was final. She was a free woman today.
“Heard your divorce came through.” Bingo. The gleam in his bedroom-blue eyes bordered on predatory.
Why wasn’t his frank appraisal and appreciation eliciting even a quiver, especially after her ten and a half month hiatus? Once upon a time, that look had left her hot and bothered. Now it just left her bothered.
Tammy laughed, shaking her head. “I know news travels fast in this town, but it was just yesterday.”
“Yeah, well, Earl mentioned it at Cecil’s last night.”
She’d celebrated by sunbathing naked. Earl had celebrated with a beer or two at Cecil’s Bar and Grill. Actually, Earl wouldn’t have stopped at two unless he’d changed drastically in the past year. That’d been yet one more irreconcilable difference when they’d split up. Earl had grown increasingly fond of a inebriation. She’d grown up with a drunk—she loved Pops but she’d spent one too many nights as a child and a teenager looking after an alcoholic—by God, she wasn’t going to remain married to one. She hadn’t considered sobriety and faithfulness unreasonable requests.
She almost asked Lowell just how wasted Earl had been, but left it alone. Frankly, Scarlett, she didn’t give a damn.
Instead she looked at Lowell, which wasn’t a hardship ’cause Lowell was a bonafide hottie. A tough guy in a tight-jeans-and-tattoo, badass kind of way. Actually, just the kind of guy she’d always been attracted to. Past tense. Lowell wasn’t doing a thing for her now.
“You’re looking good, babe.” He leaned against the door with a swagger and raked her with hungry eyes. “Hot. So, now that you’re footloose and fancy-free, how about you and me going out?”
Lowell was the spitting image of Brad Pitt and she’d always had a thing for Brad. Her hormones should’ve been having a field day at the prospect of going out with him. She’d always maintained a gal had to grab a chance when it presented itself. Now, here was Lowell, opportunity personified, and she wasn’t interested.
Not the way she’d been interested when she’d felt Niall’s heat in the close confines of her kitchen last night or when she’d kissed him by the front door. That memory alone notched up her temperature.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
Lowell’s cocky grin faded. “You don’t think so?” He wasn’t nearly so sexy with his mouth hanging open.
“That’s right.” She turned to straighten the magazines on the table between the two armchairs. Her waiting room was small, but that was okay. There was never more than one person waiting at a time.
“Why the hell don’t you want to go out with me?”
Because she’d fricking said so should’ve been good enough. Lowell’s arrogant incredulity was beginning to work her nerves. “Lowell, I don’t owe you an explanation. I’ve said no so leave it at that.”
Lowell wasn’t a happy camper. He wasn’t used to being turned down.
“I may not still be interested when you decide you are,” he warned, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child.
His attitude weakened his case and strengthened her resolve. A grown man sulking was so not sexy. “I’ll take that chance.”
“Baby, I could play you like a violin. You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“I’m pretty sure I do.” Lowell struck her as remarkably similar to Earl, Jerry, Allen and all the other men in between. Same book, different page. And suddenly she was ready to read a different book.
Willette—on time for once in her life—peered through the glass door, questioning whether she should come in.
Tammy waved her in. “My appointment’s here,” she said dismissing Lowell and his attitude.
Willette strolled in. Lowell got in the last word as he stomped out. “Give me a call when you change your mind. Maybe I’ll be available.”
“What was that all about?” Willette asked before the door shut behind him.
Tammy had known Willette all her life. Married to Bob Tidwell right after high school, Willette had three children, owned a nice house in a new subdivision on the outskirts of town, served as president of the PTA, taught Sunday school at the Baptist church and lived vicariously through Tammy.
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