A Wedding on Bluebird Way Page 14

  A minute later the soft clicking of heels tapping against the hardwood floor had him jumping to his feet. He turned and felt his jaw drop. He forced it shut. “Wow. You look . . . Wow.”

  Savannah Loving twirled before him. The hem of her skirt fluttered around her thighs. The black top she wore seemed to be made of nothing but straps, and clung to her body like a second skin. Flashes of bronzed skin peeked out of the top as she turned. Red heels completed her look, with little cutouts at the front that showcased her painted toenails.

  She was like a shot of adrenalin to his veins. Absolutely amazing.

  “Will I do?” she asked. She ran a hand over her hair. “I forgot to buy a hair dryer, so you’re stuck with curls.”

  Hank didn’t understand the connection between the two, and he didn’t care. “You’re beautiful, curly-haired or straight.” He cleared his throat. “But you already knew that.”

  “A girl still likes to be complimented.” Smoothing her palms down her skirt, she shot him an uneven smile. “Besides, I haven’t worn something like this since college. Wasn’t sure I could still pull it off.”

  She didn’t have to worry about that. He would be sure to take over the job of pulling it off if she couldn’t. He held the flowers out. “I made reservations at Five Sixty. Are you ready to go?” The sooner they left, the sooner they’d be back. He should have ordered dinner in.

  Taking the bluebonnets, she buried her nose in the blooms and inhaled deeply, doing all sorts of interesting things to her top. “You picked flowers for me?” Her eyes were wide, disbelieving, and the look was a hook to his gut.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “This can’t be the first time you’ve gotten flowers.” Even that putz Worthington wouldn’t have been that stupid.

  “Not hand-picked.” She tapped the plastic band holding the stems together. “That’s a creative use of your zip-ties.”

  He shrugged and thanked all that was holy that no other cop had seen him use the restraint on a bouquet. “Are you ready to go?” he repeated.

  “Yeah. Let me go put these in water.” She disappeared into the kitchen for a minute and came back with the flowers in an eight-ounce orange juice bottle she must have pulled from the garbage. She placed the makeshift vase on the coffee table and picked up a thin cardigan from the back of the couch. She shrugged it on. “Let’s hit it.”

  He kept his hand on the small of her back as they walked to the Jeep. His fingers twitched as their connection broke after he’d handed her in. He trotted to the driver’s side and slid in. Finding her hand on the armrest, he joined their fingers as he drove out of the lot and headed downtown.

  She ran her thumb over his, seeming to want the connection as much as he did. The soft scent of vanilla filled the interior, and he wondered if it was perfume or body wash. There was so much to learn about a woman at the start of a relationship, and Hank was eager to find out everything there was to know about Savannah Loving.

  “What did you do today?” he asked. “Aside from go shopping for that sexy outfit.”

  “Bought a novel and read in the park by your condo.” She shifted, and her skirt rose up her thighs an inch. “I can’t remember the last time I just did nothing. For the past year, every day has been either filled with work or wedding planning.”

  That cooled his jets fast. “Did you talk to your parents at all?” His stomach tensed. “Or Worthington?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll text my parents again tomorrow. And Chance . . . I need to speak to him. Soon.” She sighed. “He deserves better.”

  Hank didn’t know the man, but he figured Worthington had gotten exactly what he deserved. A man who didn’t take care of all his woman’s needs didn’t deserve to hold on to her. And why a man would want the quiet, obedient Savannah instead of the spitfire beside him, he didn’t know.

  Flipping on his blinker, he turned into the parking garage under Reunion Tower. Hank didn’t much care for the esteem in Savannah’s voice when she spoke of her former fiancé. Did she still have feelings for him? Hank didn’t know what was going on between him and Savannah, but he sure as hell didn’t want to be her last fling before she settled down with the respectable doctor.

  “Have you thought about what you’re going to say to him?” he asked as he pulled into an empty spot.

  Shaking her head, she climbed out of the Jeep. Hank followed. “What do you say to the man you treated horribly?” she asked. She stared at her toes as Hank walked around the car to join her. “How do you apologize for something like that?”

  “Maybe you’re not the only one who needs to be apologizing,” Hank growled. Yes, she was feeling much too friendly toward her former flame. “You don’t need to explain anything. Just tell him it’s over and move on.”

  Savannah snorted and fell into step beside him as they headed for the elevator. “I take back what I said about your being a good boyfriend. If that’s how you ended things with your girlfriends, you deserve a trophy for being a jackass.”

  “Talking something to death never helps a situation.” The doors opened, and they stepped from the elevator into the center of the restaurant. Stunning three-hundred-and-sixty-degree views of the Dallas skyline greeted them.

  A maître d’ took Hank’s name and showed them to their table. Hank pulled out Savannah’s chair and settled himself across from her at the intimate two-top next to the floor-to-ceiling window. The restaurant revolved so slowly Hank barely felt the movement.

  Savannah opened her napkin and draped it over her lap. “Let’s not talk about home. Tell me about life as a cop. Do you enjoy the work?”

  And so they ignored all their problems and enjoyed dinner as the skyline gradually spun around them. When Savannah laughed, she threw her head back. When she told him about the prank she’d been arrested for in college (but not charged), her eyes sparkled. And when she told him about her first-graders, her smile was bright enough to melt ice in December.

  She ordered tiramisu, and Hank watched as she relished every last bite. “Are you done?” he asked when she finally dropped her spoon. “Don’t want to lick the plate?”

  “Don’t tempt me.” Leaning back, she rested her hands on her stomach and groaned. “It was all delicious. Thank you.” She tucked her chin down and gazed at him with liquid eyes. “Thanks for everything. You came into my life at just the right moment, and I don’t know how to repay you.”

  Hank had some ideas. He tossed cash on the table and stood. Tucking her hand in his arm, he led her to the elevator. “Do you want to go for a walk to work off our meal?” He prayed she said no. But he’d been raised to be a gentleman, and gentlemen didn’t rush their women to bed.

  “In these heels?” She stepped onto the elevator, and pointed the toe of her red pump.

  Hank had to agree. Those heels were sexy. Much more suited to other activities. Ones where Savannah would be off her feet.

  “But there is something I’d love to do with you.” She leaned into him. “Take me home and I’ll show you?”

  He sped back to the condo, keeping an eye out for blue lights, anxious to get her home. His whole body felt tight, itchy, as though he wanted to burst out of his skin. He never could have imagined the annoying girl with pigtails would turn into this woman. Hot, sweet, and full of sass.

  When she returned home to Serendipity, she’d better not fall back into her submissive behavior. Hank would have to make sure she didn’t lose her nerve.

  She hopped out of the Jeep and rested her hands on the roof. “Do you trust me?” she asked as he stood across the vehicle from her.

  A smile stretched his face. “That depends on what you want to do with me.”

  “Stay here.” Without waiting for a response, she spun and raced up the stairs on those heels.

  Hank’s excitement turned to confusion. He looked around the parking lot. Empty except for him. What was Savannah up to?

  The sound of flip-flops slapping on the stairs drew his attention. She’d changed her footwe
ar and put on the sweatshirt he’d given her. Her hands were behind her back.

  He’d rather hoped that clothes would be coming off, not being added on.

  She held up her keys and helmet. “Let’s go for a ride.”

  “What? Now?” He looked at the Ducati parked two spots away.

  She sauntered over to it and flicked her hair over her shoulder. “Scared?”

  Oh, hell no. “I taught you how to ride, remember? I know my way around a bike.”

  Slinging a leg over the driver’s seat, she bit her lip and looked up at him. “But I’m going to be driving. Scared yet?”

  Hank’s skin tingled. Striding to her, he plucked the helmet from her hand and plopped it on her head. He climbed on the Ducati behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Hit it.”

  Savannah revved the engine and, with a howl at the moon, took off.

  His hands clenched her waist. He couldn’t say it was a comfortable feeling riding behind Savannah, not having control of the bike, but it was exhilarating. Her skirt flapped back over his pants, exposing her long legs. Her butt, nestled between his thighs, was round in all the right places. If she didn’t run them off the road, this would be one hell of a ride.

  She took the Northwest Highway and pulled over in a park with a view of the skyline. Cutting the engine, she lifted off her helmet, her hair swinging loose, and leaned back against his chest.

  Hank wrapped her close. “This seems to be the night for amazing views of Dallas.”

  They watched the bright lights below with the stars faint above them.

  “This is weird,” she said softly.

  “What is?” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and kissed the soft skin of her neck. Nothing about this felt weird to him. Everything felt right.

  “This. You. I’ve known you as an adult for two days, and I feel more comfortable with you than I ever did with . . .”

  “Worthington?”

  “And everyone else in Serendipity.” Cupping his hand at her waist, she rubbed her thumb over the top. “With you, I feel free to be myself.”

  “You are free.” He tucked his chin on her shoulder. “And don’t ever stop living the way you want.”

  Twisting, she looked him in the eye. “I know why I’m here, Hank. But why are you? I’m a wimp who almost married someone because her parents wanted her to.”

  He kissed her nose and each of her eyes. “I could tell you, but I’m not much of a talker. I’d rather show you.” He climbed off the bike and nudged her hip. “Scoot back. I’m driving this time.” She pressed her lips together and rolled her eyes, but wiggled onto the back seat. She secured her helmet as he slid in front of her. “Now, hold on tight. I don’t want you flying off the back.” He started the bike.

  “Sure,” she said dryly. “Safety first.” Tucking herself up tight against his back, she wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed.

  And with the sweet woman pressed tight, Hank took off, eager to get her home.

  * * *

  They hurried to the front door. Savannah waited as he unlocked it, her pulse pounding in her throat, mouth gone dry. Her body wanted Hank as much as he seemed to want her, but a small part of her brain warned her this was a mistake.

  A mistake on Hank’s part.

  She told her brain to shut up.

  He pushed open the door and dragged Savannah inside, pulling her against his chest. She linked her hands behind his neck, and their mouths clashed together.

  Hank kicked the door shut with his boot. Grabbing her around the waist, he lifted, and she wrapped her legs around his hips with a soft moan.

  He felt so good under her hands. Strong. Solid. And so very, very hot, as if he were burning up from the inside.

  He stumbled to the couch, his mouth crushing hers, their tongues tangling. She tasted the bite of tiramisu he’d stolen from her bowl, smelled the sage and moss of his cologne. He was like one giant buffet for her senses. She shrugged out of her sweatshirt, kicked off her flip-flops. Hank skimmed his palm down her bare arm, and goose bumps followed in his wake.

  Without raising his head, he found the sofa and gently lowered their bodies. He covered her curves with his hard planes. He nestled between her thighs, and her mind shortcircuited. Grazing his palm up her side, he cupped her breast, and she just about melted.

  She suckled on the tip of his tongue, dug her hands into his hair, and loved the way he groaned. “Hank,” she whispered. She tugged on his shirt, pulling it from his slacks, and skimmed her hands underneath and up his back. “You feel so good.”

  That was an understatement. He felt fantastic, but she didn’t need to inflate his ego to epic proportions just quite yet. He scraped his teeth down her jaw and nuzzled the soft skin of her neck. Damn. Get her an air pump, and she’d inflate away. No man had ever made her ache so sweetly. Her pulse pounded. Her body heated, and she wanted to tear off her clothes. And then Hank’s. Or maybe both at the same time. He sucked the lobe of her ear into his mouth and bit down.

  She whimpered and rocked her hips into him.

  He cursed.

  “Babe,” he said, trailing his lips down her neck to her collarbone. “You taste so damn good.” He pulled one of the straps of her top off her shoulder and kissed the exposed skin.

  Feeling for the hem of her skirt, he slid his hand underneath. She reached for the button to his slacks, and her engagement ring hit his abs and turned on her finger. She froze.

  Why was she still wearing Chance’s ring? Her heart twisted painfully in her chest, and her eyes burned. How could she let Hank touch her when she was wearing another man’s ring? What kind of person did that? Hank thought he saw something good in her, someone worthy of his affection.

  He must have been wearing blinders.

  He stroked higher, inching toward her core. She grabbed his wrist, stopping his exploration.

  “Something wrong? Did I hurt you?” He pushed his weight off of her, eyes narrowing with concern.

  “No. Nothing’s wrong.” She dropped her head back on the cushion. Nothing, except she was a horrible person. “Just, this is moving fast. And I”—she swallowed—“I’m still wearing another man’s ring.”

  “Then take it the hell off.”

  “The ring is just symbolic.” She scooted backwards until her shoulders hit the armrest. “It’s what it stands for that’s the problem.”

  Hank sat back. “Do you still have feelings for him?”

  “Yes, but not the way you think.” Chance was a wonderful man. He’d listened as she complained about the administration at her school. Held her hand when she’d needed seven stitches in the ER after she’d fallen over a broken-off post on her father’s ranch. She couldn’t help but care about a man as decent as Chance Worthington.

  But even though she cared for him, Chance had never made her feel like Hank did.

  She sighed. “I’m just not ready.” Pulling up the strap to her top, she tucked her feet under her. “This is moving really fast, and I need some time to think. I hope you can understand.”

  “I can be a patient man. I’m happy with waiting, especially for a woman like you.” He tugged at the collar to his shirt. “But will you ever be ready for a man like me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not a doctor. I’m not a Worthington. Not Serendipity royalty.” He turned on the couch and looked her in the eye. “I’m just a cop who was born on the other side of the tracks from you.”

  She stood and paced to the wall. Her stomach churned. “First of all, we don’t have railroad tracks through Serendipity. Second, is that the kind of woman you think I am? One who would reject a man with a blue-collar job?”

  Pushing to his feet, Hank crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, you did turn down my brother when he asked you to prom. The Evans name wasn’t good enough for you back then.”

  Any guilt she felt was swept away in a tide of anger. “Did it ever occur to you that I just didn’t like your brother? He alway
s struck me as a bit of a jackass. I’m coming to realize it’s a family trait.”

  Padding past him, she stalked into the kitchen.

  He followed and stood in the doorway. His gaze tracked her as she stomped to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water.

  “You’re right,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “My brother can be a jackass. And I can’t believe I’m still worried about my family’s reputation.”

  Her anger fizzled away. She stepped up to him and rubbed his arm. “Your father had a disease. It’s nothing to be ashamed about. Everyone in town loves your mom and brother. And when they get to know you better, they’ll love you, too.”

  “I’m sorry for being a jackass.” He cupped her cheek. “It’s weird. I haven’t seen you for years, and now you’re in my condo in Dallas. I don’t quite know where I stand. If we had started dating in town, it would have been easier.”

  She licked her lips. “When I go back, are you going to want to see me? Or is this a fun fling while we’re both away from our regular lives?”

  “I don’t care what town we’re in; I want to see you.” He lightly kissed her lips, and the last of her tension slipped away.

  Everything felt right when Hank was kissing her.

  “Will you see me? When I call you”—he brushed one of her curls off her cheek—“because I will be calling. Will you let me take you out? Hold your hand in public?” His Adam’s apple bounced up and down. “If I’m your rebound, tell me now, before we get any more involved.”

  “Why wait to call me for a date? Ask me now.” On this score, she could reassure him. She might be a hot mess who didn’t deserve a man like Hank, but if he asked her out, she wasn’t stupid enough to say no.

  A smile tugged at his lips. “Savannah, will you go out with me this Friday night? You will be back by then, right?”

  “With a date with you as an incentive, you bet your ass I will.” Rolling up onto her toes, she kissed the corner of his mouth. “And you can hold anything of mine you want in public. Within reason,” she amended.

  He grinned. “Savannah Loving, you have made my return to Serendipity much more interesting. I should have pulled you over months ago.”