Mustang Sassy (8 page)

“Done what?”

“You know,” Sass said in a low voice.

“You mean, you shouldn’t have kissed me?”

“Yes. I mean, no.” She shook her head. “I didn’t kiss you.
You
kissed
me
.”

Jordan leaned closer. “Sounds like someone has a faulty memory. You definitely kissed me first. Not that I didn’t enjoy it.”

This could not be happening. Suddenly she was back in the cabin with Jordan towering over her…too close. His lips looking much too inviting.

With a gasp, Sass pushed Jordan’s arms away and stalked toward her table. She had no idea what was going on. Her body’s response was completely abnormal. Could guilt make a person horny? She’d have to ask Libby about that, because this unsolicited physical response to an almost stranger was not typical for her.

As soon as Sass sat down, she realized she wasn’t going to get the chance to discuss anything with her friend because Libby’s eyes were fixed somewhere above Sass’s head, as if something tall, broad, and blond was hot on her heels.

“May I join you?”

Sass cringed and took a long, slow drink. She caught Libby nodding vigorously, encouraging Jordan to pull a chair up right beside her. Sass shrugged, set her bottle down, and said, “Suit yourself.”

A slender, freckled arm extended across the table. “I’m Libby.”

“Jordan.”

Libby glanced at Sass and then back at Jordan. “Do you two know each other?”

“No—”

“She kidnapped me. Didn’t she tell you?”

Libby gave Sass an accusing glare, leaned her elbows on the table, and said with way too much enthusiasm, “No. She neglected to mention anything of the sort. Do tell.”

Shaking her head, Sass said, “I didn’t kidnap him.”

“Okay. Kidnap might be a little harsh. She offered me a lift and then left me in the middle of nowhere. I guess that makes it abandonment.”

Libby laughed.

“Hey. He wanted breakfast. I dropped him at the truck stop. No biggie.”

“Yeah. With no ride. Ten miles out of town.”

“Classic Sass.” Libby was laughing so hard her cheeks were turning pink.

Jordan proceeded to recount the entire, embarrassing morning, including the flat tire, the indecent show Sass was putting on by the side of the road, the cabin…everything. Well, not everything, he left out the part about the kiss. Thank God. The way he told the story though, had Libby nearly rolling on the floor of the bar, laughing so hard. He was a good storyteller and if the story hadn’t been about her, she might have found it funny, too.

“I’m going to grab another beer. Can I get something for you two?”

“Sure. Vodka cranberry.” Libby beamed.

Jordan looked expectantly at Sass. Her beer was done and she would have loved another but it wasn’t a good idea. She needed to keep her wits about her. “I’m driving,” she said. “Just a Coke.”

The second Jordan had his back turned, Libby pulled her chair close and whispered, “Oh my God. Now I know why you wanted to come here. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“Don’t play games. I’m your best friend.
He’s
your one-night stand.”

“I wasn’t talking about him.”

“Right. You were talking about some other hot, random stranger you kidnapped the other day? C’mon, Sass. He’s totally one-night-stand worthy.”

“I…” Sass’s words trailed off as a thought came to her. Wasn’t she trying to create the illusion that there’d been nothing between her and Carlos? If Libby thought she was here because of City-boy, maybe that was a good thing. “I don’t think he’s interested.”

“Are you nuts? He totally is.”

Sass shook her head.

With a little laugh, Libby said, “You really have no idea how pretty you are, do you?”

“Don’t talk crap.”

Leaning over, Libby patted her hand. “Don’t worry. I’m your wing-girl. We’re going to make this happen.”

Sass had no idea what Libby’s “wing-girl” status entailed, but she probably wouldn’t like it. Before she could ask for details, Jordan returned, setting drinks down in front of them.

“So, Jordan. Where are you from?” Libby asked with a gleam in her eye.

“Denver.”

“You heading back tomorrow?”

For the first time since joining them, Jordan appeared uncomfortable. “No.” He lifted the beer to his mouth and tilted his head back, taking a long drink. Sass watched the way the muscles in his tanned neck moved as he swallowed. He had a nice neck. Strong. She bet he smelled good. Right there, where his Adam’s apple moved. Probably tasted good, too…

A sharp pain in her shin brought her back from her fantasy of sniffing City-boy’s neck. Libby mouthed the words,
You’re staring
. Then with a high-beamed smile aimed right at Jordan, Libby asked, “How long do you plan on staying?”

“Until my car’s done.” He glanced at the pool table where Carlos was still playing.

“No kidding,” Libby said, giving Sass another nudge under the table. “So, Jordan, what is it that you do?”

“I’m an artist.”

Sass wondered if she appeared as surprised by his response as Libby did. An artist? He didn’t seem like an artist. He gave the impression of someone who’d be comfortable wearing a suit every day and going to work in some glass office building. Or, with those muscular arms of his, she could picture him as a professional athlete. Training every day. But artist? That one totally took her by surprise.

“So do you paint? Draw? Where do you sell your stuff?” Libby asked.

“I don’t.” He smeared the damp circle his beer bottle made on the table.

“Then how do you make your living?”

“Day job.”

“Oh, I know what you mean. We can’t all be Sass.” Libby winked at her.

Sass didn’t want to talk about herself so she prompted him to finish. “So, what’s the day job?”

“I’m in HR and do some marketing, too. Not the most exciting job in the world.” He pointed his bottle at Libby. “What about you?”

“I work at the Pharmasave.” She smiled slyly. “But that’s only my day job. Not my passion.”

“I’ll bite,” Jordan said, grinning at Libby’s segue. “What’s your passion?”

Libby leaned across the table and spoke in a weird husky voice that Sass had never heard before. “I sell sex toys. Lotions, potions, edible undies, that sort of thing.”

Oh, no. No, no, no, no. Why did Libby have to turn every conversation to sex? The woman was obsessed.

But before she could change the subject, Jordan said, “Sex toys, huh? That’s not an occupation you hear about every day.”

“I try to be original.” Libby grinned. “I’ve got a talent for choosing the perfect product for each customer. You want to know what I think you’d like?”

Jordan laughed good-naturedly

Oh, for heaven’s sake. This was why Sass didn’t date. This little dance that Libby and Jordan were performing, this mating ritual that involved innuendo and small talk, drove Sass nuts. For the first time, she understood why Libby pretended to sell all that shit. Not because she actually believed in the products, but because it gave her a come-on line. Dirty girl.

Well, Sass had had enough. It was one thing to have a conversation about sex with Libby alone. Quite another to have it with City-boy present. The whole situation was making her twitchy.

She stood with a leg stuck out and a hand planted firmly on one hip. She tried to smile. “Do you want to dance or something?”

Jordan stared wide-eyed at her for a second and then a slow smile spread across his face. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the dance floor, where there were only two other couples.

Sass realized her mistake too late. He pulled her into his arms and started to sway to the music. Dammit! She didn’t want to
slow
dance. Being so close to Blondie did zero to relieve her of her pent-up frustration. With her hands on his hips, she eased him back in order to give them a little breathing room.

“So, uh, you do marketing, huh?”
Talk, Hogan. Just keep talking. That usually turns guys off.

“Yeah.”

“Who do you market for?” Good God. What did she know about marketing? It didn’t matter. She just had to keep him talking. About sane stuff. Like
anything
but sex and sex toys.

“I’ve done some work for dealerships, auto bodies, car rallies.”

“Oh really?” Now here was a topic she could get into. “Anything I’ve heard of?”

Jordan’s grip loosened as he shrugged “Probably not.”

“Then you’re not doing a very good job.”

He chuckled. “Okay, let’s see, Aurora’s Fleet Sales and Service?” Sass shook her head and he rattled off half-a-dozen names of companies he’d done jobs for. She hadn’t heard of any of them except one.

“You work for Carlyle’s Classics?”

“Not really,” Jordan said quickly. “That’s where I picked up my beater.”

“It’s a beater now, all right. Why didn’t you just take it back to Carlyle’s to get it fixed? I bet they’d give you a deal.”

“It’s not exactly roadworthy.”

“Right.” Sass hoped Jordan didn’t notice she was experiencing difficulty swallowing.

“The tow would have cost a fortune.”

“Uh-huh.” She continued to nod, feeling guilty as hell. She’d wrecked the guy’s car and now she was slow dancing with him, letting him buy her drinks and staring at his lips remembering what it was like to kiss them. What did that make her? A first-class shit, that was what.

“Plus, I’ve heard of Buck Hogan. Of all places to have your car totaled, what a coincidence that it’s in the town of one of the best restoration shops in the state.”

To him it must seem like an unlikely coincidence and if she hadn’t been the one to take the iron to the car herself, she’d have been suspicious of such a coincidence, too.

Feeling light-headed, Sass whispered, “Yeah. That is weird.” Oh God. She had to change the subject. Fast. “Carlyle’s is one of Hogan’s biggest competitors.” Was it her imagination or did he stiffen at that?

“Is that right?”

“Mmhmm. I’ve never been there. What’s their shop like?”

He pulled back a bit. “Fine. You know. Average. Nothing special. I, ah, wanted to see if they were interested in some of my designs. They weren’t.”

“Your designs?”

“Yeah.” He smiled crookedly. “I design cars. You know, the art thing?”

“You design cars?” She knew people who rebuilt cars but not designed them. “I’d love to see some.” Shit! She didn’t want to get to know him, no matter how easy it suddenly was to talk to him. She was only pretending to like him. She didn’t really
want
to like him.

Except, she sure as hell liked the way his hand was making little circles between her shoulder blades. That felt nice.

No. No, it did not feel nice and she wasn’t going to hook up with him. This was all just for show. “About that kiss…”

“Yeah?” he said softly into her hair.

“It’s not going to happen again.”

“Okay.” One hand slid lower, just above her belt loop.

Somehow her head had come to rest against his chest and it was just as muscular as she’d imagined. Warm, too. She could even hear the slow, steady thud of his heart. Sass took a deep breath, inhaling his cologne. Mmm, nice. Like lemons or licorice or something else tasty. She licked her lips. “I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” She rubbed her cheek against his shirt. So soft.

“Yeah. That would be bad,” he whispered. “We don’t even know each other.” His fingers found their way beneath her shirt, and he caressed the bare skin of her lower back, right where her tattoo was hiding.

A thrill of pleasure woke up every nerve ending starting from her tailbone to the base of her skull.

“Hogan! Steak’s up!” Sam called.

As if waking from a dream, Sass’s head snapped up. She backed away from Jordan, slowly, unable to tear her gaze from his face. In a flash, his heavy lids opened wide, like he’d been caught in the same dream—or was it a nightmare?— and was only now coming out of it. She hurried to the bar. Thank God Blondie didn’t follow this time though she could still feel the ghost of his touch along her waist.

This was getting out of control. City-boy had lulled her with that big body of his and that spicy aftershave, hypnotizing her with his caresses and soft words. For a few seconds there, it had felt so damn good she’d forgotten what she’d done. But the blisters on her hands reminded her and Sass knew without a doubt she had to stay far away from Jordan before she made an even bigger mistake.

Chapter Six

That was too close. What had possessed him to tell her he’d worked for Carlyle’s? He’d lied about all the rest of it, why not that? The worst of it was he told her something he only ever shared with his family, his dream of designing. Then he’d given in to his impulse to touch her tattoo.

Dumbass.

He didn’t even need his brothers around to berate him.

When he’d seen her come in, he’d promised himself he would stay away. But after Tori’s advances became too obvious, well, Sass was the only other person in the place he’d met. Escaping Tori did not explain his irrational desire to be honest with Sass, though. While holding her sweet little body close on the dance floor, he had an overwhelming need to tell her exactly what he was doing in Greenview. When she’d asked to see his designs, he’d experienced a surge of excitement—almost as much of a turn-on as the discovery that she wore no bra beneath her thin shirt. The fact that he was so eager to sabotage his plans and throw away his dreams was a sure sign he had to stay away from her. She was Hogan’s daughter, for Christ’s sake. End of story.

Jordan realized he was still standing in the middle of the dance floor staring after Sass when he turned around and bumped straight into Libby.

“Want to dance?”

Sass was cutting across the floor with a platter of food. His first instinct was to follow her. It was a bad instinct. “Love to.”

The song playing was Tim McGraw’s “Let’s Make Love,” and Libby leaned into him as if she was taking the song literally. “Is Sass watching?” she whispered into his ear.

“Huh?”

“Just take a peek. Is she watching?”

Jordan glanced back toward the table. Sass was busy butchering the meat on her plate. She briefly met his gaze, squinted hard at him before looking away. “Sort of.”