Summer Nights (Fool's Gold #8)

Two hours later he parked in front of her house. He’d showered and changed. On a whim, he’d stopped by a florist shop on the main street and picked up a bouquet of roses. Hokey, maybe, but still a classic choice. He’d gone with pink rather than red, to keep things light.

She opened the door before he had a chance to knock. She was wearing one of her strappy summer dresses and no shoes. Which meant she barely came to his shoulders. Her hair was long and loose, all curls. Her toes were a bright pink. She was walking, breathing sex and the second he saw her, he wanted her with the desperation of a man who’d spent the past twenty years alone on a desert island.

“For me?” she asked, smiling up at him. “Thank you. Wow. That’s unexpected. But lovely.”

Barely able to control his need, he handed her the flowers. She took them, breathed in the scent, then drew him inside and shut the door.

She put the flowers on a small table by the door. After turning back to face him, she put her hands on his shoulders and drew him close.

“Hey, handsome cowboy. I haven’t seen you in a while,” she murmured.

He went willingly, pulling her against him and kissing her deeply. Even as he ran his hands up and down her back, he thrust his tongue into her mouth. She met him stroke for stroke, arching against him, rubbing herself against his rapidly growing erection.

He moved his hands from her hips to her rear. He squeezed the curves. When that wasn’t enough, he found the zipper and jerked it down. After grabbing her dress by the shoulders, he gave it a tug.

Several things happened at once. Annabelle moved back slightly, so her dress could fall off her arms and drift down to the floor. He opened his eyes to watch the show. A heartbeat later, he saw she wasn’t wearing anything under the dress.

Nothing. As in naked.

She smiled up at him. “I missed you.”

He had to swallow before speaking. “You, ah, mentioned that in your text.”

“I wasn’t lying.”

“I get that.”

“Good.” She took his hand, then turned and led the way to her bedroom. “I thought we could play doctor. I have a few places that need attention. Want me to show you?”

He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten so lucky. Annabelle was funny, smart and caring. She was also something of a wildcat in bed. No one looking at her reading a story to kids at the library would guess that. Unless the person knew about the dance of the happy virgin and had had the pleasure of kissing her into moaning surrender.

Need pulsed through him in time with his heartbeat. He was hard enough to ache, and more than ready to play any game she wanted.

They reached her bedroom. She turned to face him again. “Oh, Dr. Shane, can you help me?”

As his hands settled on her br**sts, he leaned in to press his mouth to hers. “Yes, ma’am, I can. Let me see if I can figure out where it hurts and then I’ll kiss it and make it all better.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ANNABELLE WAITED AROUND the side of the barn. The day was warm and clear, with a light breeze. Two afternoons ago a storm had blown through, dropping enough rain to wash everything clean. Now the ground was dry, the flowers bright, the moment perfect. Wedding perfect.

“I feel ridiculous,” Charlie muttered, tugging on the waistband of her dress.

“You look great.”

She did, Annabelle thought. The pinkish-melon fabric complemented her coloring, while the sweetheart neckline and fitted bodice showed off unexpected curves. One of the Gionni sisters—both helping the bridal party and on a truce for the wedding—had curled her short hair then used product to add an edge to the curls. Makeup, applied by a very brave Nevada, accentuated her blue eyes and long, dark lashes.

“You can dress up a pig, but it’s still a pig,” Charlie muttered.

“Wilbur would look very handsome in a tuxedo, and you’re not a pig. You’ve spent your whole life trying to be the opposite of your mother. May I point out she’s not here, you’re a woman and every now and then it’s fun to dress like you remember that. You look beautiful. Yes, it’s a compliment. Suck it up and go with it.”

Charlie blinked at her. “For a short person, you have a lot of attitude.”

Annabelle laughed. “I’m also wearing four-inch heels which I could use as a weapon. Don’t piss me off.”

“I guess I won’t.”

Heidi came around the side of the barn. Glen and May were with her, both helping hold up the gown.

Heidi looked at them and sighed. “What was I thinking, wearing a train on grass? Once we get through the ceremony, I won’t care about stains but until Rafe sees me, I want to be perfect.”

“You’ve succeeded,” Annabelle told her, taking in the upswept hair, the sparkling tiara and the graceful dress. “You’re stunning.”

“She’s right,” Charlie told her, voice thick. “Damn, I’m getting all misty.”

“Thank you,” Heidi told them. “For everything. For being my friends and helping me and—”