Authors: Toni Blake
Half Moon Hill (46 page)
He said nothing as he rejoined her in the yard, so she cleverly remarked, “Milk.” Then cringed.
Stop with the brilliant comments already!
Lucky Romo lowered the dish to the grass halfway between Tessa and the woods, then stepped back beside her. And that’s when she realized what Mr. K. had wanted when he’d been meowing at her. Amy gave him a saucer of milk every night with dinner—and Tessa had forgotten. Stubborn, spoiled cat.
“Is that him?” Lucky asked.
Tessa’s heart rose to her throat when she followed his pointing finger toward the edge of the yard, where the forest met the lawn—Mr. Knightley crouched there in the taller grass, peering at the milk as if it were prey. “Uh-huh,” she whispered.
Both of them stayed quiet as Knightley slowly, silently inched toward the milk, his movements implying he thought he was being very sneaky about the whole thing. Once he started lapping at it, Tessa gingerly moved in to kneel beside him. He didn’t flinch when she reached to stroke his fur, too caught up in the milk, and she sighed, “Thank God,” giving the spotted cat an affectionate squeeze. For the first time since Knightley’s escape, Tessa felt like she could breathe again. She hadn’t lost Amy’s cat. Life would go on.
But then she remembered the weirder part: Lucky Romo, of all people in the world, had helped her find him. She still couldn’t fathom that this big, tough guy was him. He’d left town at eighteen, which was—she did the math—sixteen years ago now. But this
had
to be him. The whole motorcycle thing fit. As did the name on the back of his shirt. Sure, it
could
be somebody else’s business, but he looked so much like Mike with that thick, dark hair and olive complexion.
So this was him. Lucky Romo. Home at last.
But . . . if he wasn’t here to reconcile with his family, why was he in Destiny?
The second Mr. Knightley reached the bottom of the shallow bowl, Tessa anchored one arm snugly around him and pushed to her feet. “Thanks,” she said. Although peering back up into that tough-guy face and those captivating eyes made her a little dizzy. She’d never known a guy with muscles like this. With long hair. With so many tattoos.
“No problem.” He was still Mr. Unemotional, though, his voice flat and detached.
“You saved my life,” she felt the need to add.
He gave his head a pointed tilt. “I wouldn’t go
that
far.”
His words made her remember the whole outlaw rumor. Maybe an outlaw biker dude took that kind of statement a lot more literally than she did. And did this mean she should be scared? She’d been a
little
scared even
before
remembering that part.
And yet . . . even as her muscles stayed tensed, she felt a response to him in other places, too. In her breasts. Between her thighs. Good Lord—what was
that
about? Or—wait. Maybe it was all just nerves, her whole body getting into the act because he was so freaking intimidating. Hopefully. She couldn’t tell.
So she dropped her gaze briefly and bit her lip, her heart still pounding too hard, before forcing her eyes back to his one last time. “Well, I better get him into the house before he tries to make another break for it.”
Mr. Unresponsive didn’t reply, so with cat in hand, she turned to go.
That’s when he said, “See ya later . . . hot stuff.”
The last words halted Tessa in place. What had he just called her? Looking over her shoulder, she raised her gaze back to his—to find another tiny hint of amusement there as he said, “Your shirt.”
Glancing down, Tessa wanted to die. She’d completely forgotten she wore a snug white tank with the words
Hot Stuff
written in script across it, actually half of a pajama set Rachel had given her for her birthday; the matching pants had little smiling hot peppers all over them. But the worst part was—she wasn’t wearing a bra, a fact that was scandalously apparent. She even caught a hint of color through the thin cotton. Dear God in heaven.
A weekend in a cabin near Destiny seems like the perfect Christmas gift to Sue Ann Simpkins—until her ex’s best friend, Adam Becker, shows up at the door, claiming the cabin is his! But when a sudden snowstorm strands them together in very close quarters, Adam realizes that what he really wants for Christmas is a second chance at love. Now all he has to do is convince Sue Ann . . .
“W
hat, um, are we doing?” she whispered in the still air.
“I don’t know,” he whispered back, sounding earnest and yet . . . maybe a little needful.
And then she lifted her gaze to his and their eyes met and she had the feeling she was looking at him like she wanted him to kiss her.
And she must have been right about that, too, because that was when he leaned slowly, tentatively forward and brushed his lips ever-so-gently across hers. She let out a little gasp as the pleasure it delivered cascaded through her deprived body. Oh boy. Oh wow. Oh Lord.
When their eyes met again, she noticed how blue his sparkled in the firelight and that her chest now heaved a little. And she said, dumbly, “I have a plate in my hand.” Because it seemed like it was going to be hard to kiss him that way.
But he never acted like it was dumb at all—instead he just rushed to take the plate and set it on the coffee table with his—and then he took her back into his arms, pulled her close enough that there was no mistaking the hard bulge in his pants, and lowered his mouth to hers in the most powerful kiss she’d ever received.
Whoa.
She wasn’t usually thankful for blizzards, but suddenly, all she could think was—let it snow!
If that last kiss had been filled with power, the ones that followed were stunningly . . . smooth, controlled, and skilled. Wow. Adam definitely knew how to kiss a woman. As his hands skimmed her curves—one roaming her back, the other drifting seductively up her side toward her breast—it all left her breathless, the pleasures at once simple yet profound. The lack of urgency in his kisses combined with the confident way he delivered them gave the impression that he wasn’t racing toward some better end—but that he was completely and wholly satisfied by the moment, that he was enjoying the passion passing between them just as much as she was.
She found herself shocked by how easy it was to stand there and kiss him, how her body seemed to take over, instantly comfortable moving against his. Since that’s what was happening now, very naturally—her breasts shifted sensually against his chest, her fingers twined in his thick, mussed hair. His hands had eased onto her ass now, which, of course, meant that in front she was grinding against him where he was hard and thick—and wow, talk about being breathless.
This should be more awkward.
But instead, it was just . . . pleasure, plain and simple.
Despite being the town matchmaker, Amy Bright is desperately shy when it comes to her own love life—and helpless when it comes to firefighter Logan Whitaker, with whom she’s head-over-heels in love. One smoking-hot kiss could change everything for them . . . but will it ruin a one-of-a-kind friendship, or show Logan and Amy that they’ve already found everything they need, right here in Destiny?
F
inally, after a long moment, she said something so honest to Tessa that it was the first time she’d ever realized how true it was. “I used to think that. But I’m just not sure I believe it anymore. I’m not sure I’m meant to have that kind of happiness.”
Tessa’s face fell as she instantly knelt next to Amy’s chair. “Of course you are, Ames. Everyone is. I went through a long drought myself if you recall, and felt pretty undateable. But then Lucky came along and all that changed in the blink of an eye.” Then she shook her head, obviously befuddled by Amy’s attitude. “What on earth brought this on?”
Amy tried to swallow back all the emotion that rushed through her in response to the question even as she heard herself admit, “Something happened.”
“Something happened?” Tessa asked.
“With Logan,” Amy told her.
Tessa’s eyebrows shot up as she moved smoothly into the overstuffed chair across from Amy’s and leaned forward, her gaze wide. “Start talking.”
So Amy took a deep breath, and then she talked. She told Tessa the whole story of how Logan had kissed her but then afterward acted like she had the plague or something. Only Tessa didn’t seem to hear the part about the plague. Instead, she seemed . . . unaccountably overjoyed. “Oh my God, this is so great! I mean, could it be any greater?”
Now it was Amy who blinked her astonishment. “Um, yes. Yes, it could be.”
“Because you and Logan know each other so well! You’ve already got all of that behind you! You know each other’s families and backgrounds, you know who the other is deep inside, you know the kind of life each other has lived and wants to live in the future. I mean, Lucky and I had problems with some of that stuff—and it counts for a lot. All you and Logan have to do is get past the awkward friends-to-lovers transition and then you’ll have it made.”
Amy just stared at her friend, feeling like they’d done a role reversal. It was usually Amy who saw everyone’s relationships through rose-colored glasses, refusing to acknowledge the difficult parts. But now she was viewing things from the other side. “Except for one fairly important thing,” she told Tessa. “He doesn’t want to go from friends to lovers. Because he doesn’t see me as a lover—only as a friend.”
“But he didn’t kiss you like a friend, right?”
“No.” He’d kissed her like . . . like she’d always dreamed of being kissed. “But he also said he must have thought I was someone else. I think he sees me as . . . more of a sister.”
At this, however, Tessa just made a face. “I think he said that just to cover up because it caught him off guard. And I’m sure you’re exaggerating the part about him acting like you had the plague.” Then she gave her head an inquisitive tilt. “But before we go any further, let’s back up a minute and answer the most important question here. How do
you
feel about
him?
”
Amy expelled a sigh and let everything she’d thought and felt since that kiss play back through her head. Reliving it quickly made her heart beat too hard and her palms sweaty. Her skin got hotter, too, and she soon noticed that, at the moment, it wasn’t particularly easy to breathe. And she still suffered that same mix of happy-sad-confused that had been making her feel a little crazy ever since the kiss. And she realized that even though she knew he didn’t want her, would surely
never
want her, and that this whole thing was very likely going to ruin their lifelong friendship, she still felt weirdly happy and giddy inside when she pictured his handsome face in her mind.
And then,
then,
she had no choice but to face the truth, the truth which she suddenly understood had probably been festering inside her for a while now but she’d just been too in denial to admit to herself. It seemed useless to
keep on
denying it now, though, so she finally said to Tessa, “I think I’m in love with him.”
TONI BLAKE’s lifelong love of writing began when she won an essay contest in the fifth grade. Soon after, she penned her first novel—nineteen notebook pages long. Since then, Toni has become a multipublished, RITA
-nominated author of contemporary romance novels that are both sexy and heartwarming. Her work has been excerpted in
Cosmo
and reviewed by
USA Today
and
First for Women
magazine. Toni lives with her husband in the Midwest, and when not writing, she enjoys traveling, quilting, and scrapbooking.
www.toniblake.com
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HALF
MOON
HILL
WILLOW
SPRINGS
HOLLY
LANE
WHISPER
FALLS
SUGAR
CREEK
ONE
RECKLESS
SUMMER
LETTERS
TO
A
SECRET
LOVER
TEMPT
ME
TONIGHT
SWEPT
AWAY
