And Then He Kissed Me (4 page)

Kieran’s wide mouth twitched. Audrey tried not to stare at the movement, tried not to think about how much she’d once loved that mouth.

She narrowed her eyes. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”

Kieran grinned—a goofy, toothy motion that had her insides fluttering.

“Well, since you’re asking,” he said, his eyes traveling slowly along her body from head to toe, assessing her curves and attire like
she
was what he wanted to ride, “I suppose I should tell you that I’m your boss.”

Audrey stared. “Excuse me?”

“And calling me an asshole is grounds for firing.”

Audrey’s brain buzzed, trying to process how in the world her ex-boyfriend was standing in front of her claiming to work here.

Kieran Callaghan didn’t hold down steady jobs. He didn’t stick around anywhere for very long, in fact. That was a lesson Audrey herself had learned the hard way.

She stared at the expensive leather jacket covering his broad shoulders, the fine cut of the jeans he was wearing, the thick silver watch on his wrist. Audrey had pictured Kieran in her mind’s eye a thousand times over the past five years. He had been both handsome and intelligent when they’d met, and she figured he’d simply become less so as time went on. In her imaginary picture of him, he’d grown thin and ragged. In her version, leaving her had been the thing that had broken him.

In her wildest dreams he’d never improved. He was even more chiseled somehow, and his eyes held a depth—a wisdom—that unnerved her. Audrey’s breathing turned uneven, and it wasn’t just because of the corset.

“I don’t believe you,” Audrey said, trying to keep the turbulent emotions off her face. “There is no way you work here.”

“Now you’re accusing your boss of lying. You’re not really getting off on the right foot.”

The rule-obeying part of Audrey’s brain raised an alarm. If there was a chance Kieran was telling the truth, she needed to shut up now. In fact, she’d needed to shut up five minutes ago when she called him an asshole.

“It’s good to see you,” Kieran said slowly, his voice low enough so that Audrey swore she could feel the reverberations of it on her skin. “But we certainly can’t work together. I’m going to have to ask you to leave this position.”

A roar started in Audrey’s ears. She reached out to the motorcycle to steady herself.

Kieran Callaghan was
not
going to storm back into her life just so she could lose two jobs in two weeks. She was not going to just accept her pink slip and march out of here like the good girl everyone expected her to be. She was wearing eyeliner and stilettos, for crying out loud.

Kieran might be inside this dealership looking altogether different, but, by God, so was she.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Audrey said. She straightened on the back of the motorcycle. “I don’t care what your job is here. Do whatever you want. But this? Right here? Is
my job
.”

She marveled at the words coming out of her mouth. As if she spoke this way to people in authority all the time.

“Audrey, listen—”

“No, you listen. I don’t know who you think you are, but you’d better back off. Or there is going to be some serious trouble.”

Kieran’s eyes flashed. “Are you threatening me?”

He leaned in farther, and Audrey’s blood pounded. His strong jaw, his high cheekbones, his warm skin—it was all mere inches away. Some deep, reckless part inside wanted to throw herself against him, inhaling his scent and putting her lips on his like she had five years ago. Instead, she channeled her energy and looked him square in the eye.

“Why don’t you find out?
Asshole
.”

C
HAPTER
TWO

K
ieran Callaghan tried to focus on the fact that he’d just been called an asshole in his own showroom—twice—rather than admit to the overwhelming emotions that came with seeing Audrey Tanner again after all these years. He steeled himself against the searing heat flaming every one of his nerve endings. He forced himself to relax, to play it cool. He hadn’t anticipated running into her here, of all places, but that didn’t mean they had to be near each other for very much longer.

The back of his throat tightened, the way it always did when he was gambling and on the verge of either a crushing loss or an enormous win. He gave her the same easy smile he used to give the other card sharks around the green felt table, and ignored his churning insides.

I have to get her out of here,
he thought, fighting the pull toward her. Good Christian mother of Mary, the woman looked like she’d just popped off the pages of a magazine—and not the kind they kept in doctors’ waiting rooms. Back in the day, he’d been unbearably turned on when she wore running shorts and a tank top. Now that she was clad in leather and tight jeans, he worried his hands might reach for her before his brain could tell them not to.

“I’m not sure you understand,” he said, summoning every ounce of professionalism he had, “but this isn’t a negotiation.”

“Then it’s a war,” Audrey shot back. “Because you cannot fire me.” Her brown eyes, normally warm and welcoming, were flinty with irritation and anger. She placed a hand on the lean space where her hip met her waist. He tried not to stare, tried not to imagine his own fingers on that curve, moving slowly upward to—

“I am
talking
to you.” Her voice was tight with emotion. The sound of it echoed in the high-ceilinged showroom—a gunshot in what was supposed to be an oasis—and a few customers turned to stare.

Kieran arched a brow, letting that be his only reaction. He didn’t want customers suspecting that anything was amiss. But underneath his leather jacket, his whole body was a jumble of nerves. He was going to have to get her off that motorcycle and into a space where they could talk.

That is, if he could get control over himself long enough to get more than a handful of words out. Because seeing Audrey again was like being hurdled from a warm, dry room into a freezing hailstorm. It was shocking, jarring, and more painful than he’d like to admit. Emotions from the past pummeled him—guilt, affection, remorse.

Five years ago, he’d ridden a Harley into White Pine during its annual Asparagus Festival, fallen head-over-heels for Audrey, and then left after two weeks.

Since then, he’d worked hard to forget her, building a life for himself and letting five years of new experiences fill the space in his mind that she’d once occupied. He assumed he’d succeeded.

The tightening in his chest at the sight of her was telling him otherwise. Audrey might look completely different, but her effect on him was exactly the same as he remembered.

The only difference was that now he wasn’t a wild and reckless rider tearing up the open road and doubling down every chance he could. That was a lifetime ago, which meant that no matter what feelings were bubbling to the surface, he couldn’t let Audrey’s nearness affect him. He was a professional, dammit. And this was his showroom. No one called the shots in here but him.

He was in the process of telling her to leave again when his eyes landed on the top of her bustier, and his words got lost somewhere between his brain and his mouth. Her breasts were practically sculpted over the top of the leather, forming twin mounds that had lust rolling through him in hot waves.

“Up here, Callaghan,” Audrey said, pointing to her face.

His eyes snapped to hers. What the hell was wrong with him? He was a professional manager, for crying out loud, not some horny teenager. “Get off the hog, and let’s go talk,” he said, trying to regain control of the situation.

“No. You have no right.”

“As this dealership’s advancement director, I sure as hell do.” His tone was icy, clinical. Underneath the bustier, she stiffened.

“What’s an advancement director?”

“I make sure new Harley-Davidson dealerships get up and running right.”

“This one seems fine.”

Her beautiful mouth, small and bow-shaped, was knotted tightly.

He’d never seen her mouth in such a state. When they were together, she’d used her mouth to smile, or to kiss him so eagerly he thought he’d snap from the desire between them. He was long gone by the time she’d frowned that deeply, he supposed.

Dammit, he should have expected to see her again instead of assuming he could avoid her. He should have planned better, strategized more. He could practically hear Lorne laughing at him for his stupidity. “You fuckin’ blockhead,” his boss would say, smacking him on the back of his head. And then he’d guffaw until Kieran was laughing, too, unable to help himself.

“You think this is funny?” Audrey demanded. “You think it’s hilarious to come in here and threaten someone’s job?”

“You already have a job,” Kieran answered, instantly refocusing. “You’re a gym teacher. You shouldn’t be here.”

Audrey’s face paled. “That—that’s not the case anymore. I work here now.”

The news surprised him; the broken note in her voice disarmed him. But he pushed past it. “Not for much longer you don’t. Get off the hog and follow me, or I’ll call security.”

“No.”

“Suit yourself.”

He was reaching into his back pocket for his cell phone when she thrust her hand forward to stay his. The feel of her fingers on his skin had him seeing dark spots in his peripheral vision.

“Wait.”

He didn’t dare meet her gaze again. Instead, he stared at her fingers, at the short, trimmed nails that were so plain and practical in contrast to the rest of her. They were still a gym teacher’s nails, he thought, wondering what in the world had happened to Audrey to make her shimmy into tight clothes and sit on a motorcycle for pay.

“I can’t,” Audrey whispered, leaning closer to him. Her scent reached him—fresh detergent and a hint of vanilla—and it was all he could do to keep his face a mask of indifference.

“You can’t what?”

“I can’t get off this bike. Literally. And I’m not misusing the word.”

“You’re stuck?”

“Something like that.”

“How’d you get on the bike, then?”

Audrey pulled her hand back, and he noted its absence acutely. “I did a little shimmy thing, sort of pitching myself forward.”

“So do that again, but in reverse.”

“Well, I would except…” She tucked a piece of glossy brown hair behind an ear, stalling.

“Except?”

“I felt a button pop. On my jeans. And I’m afraid, if I do it again, that…” She lowered her eyes and studied the seat’s black leather. Kieran worked to keep a straight face.

“You’re afraid that if you get up, your pants will fall down?”

“Not fall down, no. They’re too tight for that. But split open at the front? Yes.”

He could see her cheeks color, even under the makeup. It made the light dusting of freckles across her nose even sexier, if that was possible. He shook his head, trying to stay focused.

“Well, that’s no problem,” Kieran replied casually, even though the idea of Audrey’s pants bursting open had his cock hardening against the fabric of his jeans. “We’ll just do this.”

In one smooth motion, he scooped her off the Harley and into his arms. He shook his head when he saw her getting ready to protest. “You yell or whine, and I’ll carry you outside and lock the doors on you. You stay quiet, we can talk in the back room. Agreed?” He saw an angry muscle working in her jaw, but she nodded nevertheless.

And then, just like that, Audrey Tanner was back in his arms.

He’d been so sure that he’d be able to return to White Pine and avoid his past altogether. So how he came to be
carrying
part of it in the form of Audrey Tanner, how her arms came to be looped around his neck, how her smell was everywhere, intoxicating him as he stormed toward the back room, was a turn of events he could never have predicted. It was also a dangerous set of circumstances, and he never should have let it get this far.

He had a job to do, dammit. He was here to build on his future—not relive the past.

When he reached one of the back offices he kneed the door open, then placed her roughly on the floor. She stumbled a little in the heels, but righted herself, glaring at him. He was about to tell her to change clothes and get out of the dealership when he heard a pop. Something on the bustier came loose—he wasn’t sure what—and before Audrey could stop it, the front panel covering her chest slid downward. Her mouth made a horrified little O as her breasts sprang from their constrictive covering. Her nipples pebbled at the sudden exposure to cool air. Kieran got a hungry eyeful before Audrey scrambled to cover herself with a mortified “Oh!”

Instinctively, he reached forward to help her. “I’m so sorr—” he started before she swatted his hand away.

“Stop it!” she cried. “Get back!”

Just then, Fletch Knudson walked through the office door, and pulled up short. His neat moustache twitched. His ice-blue eyes flicked back and forth between them. “What in holy hell is going on here?”