Kiss Me Katie! & Hug Me Holly! (19 page)

Riley had to laugh at that, but he wondered if Holly had any idea how much she'd just given the man. If she cared.

Dora sent Riley a wink and blew a kiss as he passed, and he blew one right back at her. “New job?” he asked. He'd known her forever, too, and knew that beneath all that huge red hair, overdone makeup and major attitude, beat a rare, warm, giving heart.

“Yeah.” She laughed, and it wasn't with her usual cynicism, but with genuine delight. “And it's my
own
job this time, not one given to me because of family obligations or pity or because they're afraid I'm going to embarrass them or anything like that.” She grinned. “My folks have never really forgiven me for having sex in the frozen section that first year out of high school.”

“Maybe because you seduced their best stock boy, and he let all the frozen lobsters thaw.”

“Yeah. That was fun. But I paid for that one big-time. Now I'm done ringing up grumpy ranchers. I'm going to cook. For real. Imagine that, be
ing paid to do something you love the most.” She let out a wicked smile. “Well, the second-most anyway.”

He laughed, enjoying her happiness. Riley knew how much this new job had restored some badly needed self-esteem and confidence to a woman sorely lacking in both, and again he looked at Holly.

She avoided his gaze.

They continued toward the kitchen. As Riley passed Jud, the older man suddenly got busier.

“Slow crime day?” Riley asked lightly.

Jud actually blushed. “She's trying really hard,” he said grudgingly, hitching up his slipping pants and looking at Holly. “Just wanted to be neighborly.”

“Uh-huh. Neighborly. Was there food involved, Jud?”

Holly smiled, giving him away.

“They offered me lunch, yes, and since—” Jud broke off until Holly disappeared into the kitchen, and he lowered his voice “—and since it's Dora cooking it, not the Low-Fat Queen, and since there's currently no cows on the run, what the hell, right?”

“Sounding a little defensive there.”

“Dammit, I'm hungry. Okay?”

“Okay.” Riley laughed. “Me, too.”

“Nah, you're sweet on her.”

“Am not.”

“Are, too.”

“Jud—”

“Are, too.”

Riley walked away from that. In the kitchen, Holly was pulling out a bowl. Which involved her stretching up until her shirt raised high, giving him a nice view of her belly button.

His mouth went dry. “Need some help?”

“No, it's one of the benefits of being tall. I can reach my own stuff.” She went up on tiptoe now, and leaned forward another little bit, which had her shirt falling away from her body. She sucked in a breath, as if that would give her another inch, and he saw more creamy skin, the outline of a few ribs, and he found himself wishing she'd stretch more, enough to give him a good shot of breast as well.

That's when he realized it was official.

He was sweet on her, just as Jud had accused him.

7

F
ORCING HIS EYES CLOSED
, Riley stood stock-still, until he heard Holly's voice, which had a smile in it.

“The oatmeal isn't
that
scary,” she said. “I promise. Dora helped.”

“I'm not afraid of your oatmeal.” He took the bowl, which was warm in his fingers.

“What
are
you afraid of?”

That she was standing too close to him, because he could see things in her eyes that made him dizzy. Or maybe those things were in his own eyes and he was just seeing them reflected back at him. “I'm afraid you've been taken over by aliens. You're different.”

“Different?” She turned away and tripped over the dog, then bent to pat him on the head.

This was the same woman who only days ago had looked at that mutt as if he were a mite-ridden monster, and yet she was now smiling fondly, as if she'd grown to care for him.

“You ever going to name him?” he asked.

“No,” she said, hastily moving away from the dog as if she'd just realized what she'd done. “He's not mine so there's no reason to.”

“How do you know he's a
he?

Crossing her arms, she went for a haughty look and failed. “He just is.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he's cocky and walks with an attitude.”

“And?”

“And—” she rolled her eyes “—and because I looked, okay?”

He grinned. “Okay. City girl.”

“Don't change the subject. How do I look different?”

“Different…softer.” Yeah, definitely softer. It was a good look for her. “I may be going out on a limb here, princess, but you're looking…
happy.

“Don't be silly.”

“Why would it be silly to look happy?” He scooped a bite of oatmeal into his mouth and was surprised to find it nearly melted there, it was that good. “You're right, this is fantastic.”

“Thank you.”

“See? Right there, you said ‘thank you' and you
said it with such a sweet, kind voice. Definitely different. Now, tell me why that's silly.”

“Because I don't want to be soft or sweet.” She let out an unladylike snort and crossed her arms, a definite defensive stance. “I've never been sweet and kind in my life.”

“You're not looking into the right mirror.” He scooped up another three bites of oatmeal to hide the fact he wanted to take at least three bites out of her. “I can give you examples of your kindness, if you need them.”

“I don't.”

“You're letting Mike hang his artwork. In case you don't know, you now walk on water.”

“His artwork is good. I'm doing myself a favor by putting up something people will want to look at.”

“How about Jud? He wasn't exactly welcoming to you. Don't tell me you turned the other cheek that easily.”

“I needed his help, he wanted good food. We compromised.”

“Uh-huh. And what about Dora?”

She shifted, giving herself away. “What about her?”

“I suppose you hired her away from a job that
was slowly killing her because you actually like loud, slightly tacky, buxom redheads.”

“She's not loud.” She hesitated. “And it's not up to me to judge her personal taste in clothing.”

He laughed. “That was very…tactful.”

“I like Dora.”

“I like her, too, I just didn't expect you to.”

“Why not? She's my—”
Friend,
Holly realized with no little surprise. On the outside, they appeared to be very different, but that was an illusion, for she thought that just maybe she and Dora had far more in common than they'd realized.

For one, neither of them were exactly cherished by their families.

For another, they both seemed to have a problem letting people close enough to form a relationship.

“She's your what, Holly? Your friend?” Riley's eyes shone with something far too close to pride and affection for her tastes. “You've made a friend here in this annoying town, among people you don't like?”

“I never said I didn't like this place. And as for the people…I think that could change.”

He smiled, and it was a breath-taker. “So, you do like it here.”

She decided to use anger to combat that funny melting sensation in the region of her heart, which
was absolutely not going to get involved here. “You know, Sheriff, you have this misconceived notion that I'm this big-city snob. You don't seem to see the real me.”

“Don't I?” Both his smile and expression warmed, and he moved closer to her, close enough so she could feel his breath on her cheek, could feel the heat of his body.

She liked it, far too much.

“I see you, Holly,” he whispered. “I see the false bravado and confidence. I see beneath it, too, to the woman who thinks she's all alone in everything she does, who doesn't know she already has people who care about her, people who want to help. Not because of what you offer to give them, but because they like you and
want
to help you.”

“I sincerely doubt that.”

“Why? Why don't you want to believe that you can be liked just for you?”

“Do
you
like me just for me?” The minute the words were out of her mouth, she wished them back. It rated right up there with her most embarrassing moment, next to that time at her last job when she'd pulled out all the stops in catching the man she thought she wanted, only to find out he'd done the same to the woman
he'd
wanted—and that hadn't been her.

Which reminded her, no more men!

“Never mind,” she said urgently, trying to back away but suddenly his hands were on her hips, drawing her against him.

“No, you asked, and I'm going to tell you. I want to make sure you hear me, though.” His hands slid up her arms, slowly, so slowly, to capture her face, which he gently stroked with his fingers. “Yes, I like you, just for you.” He smiled, and it was rueful. “I didn't
want
to like you, I'll give you that. But it's done now, and I won't turn from it.”

Panic was new for her. New and unwelcome.

He liked her!
“I think we should stick with your instincts,” she said quickly. “We don't want to like each other, so we should—”

He set a finger to her lips, halting her words, and leaned even closer, so their mouths were only a fraction of an inch apart. “Don't say this is stupid,” he murmured. “I'm well aware of the stupidity factor.”

“So let's get smart!”

He smiled slowly. “Later.” And he placed his mouth over hers.

It was what she'd dreamed about every night since she'd come to Little Paradise, whether she
wanted to admit it or not. But even in her dream, she hadn't gotten it right.

This
was right.

It was also terrifyingly hot, deep, messy and…bone-melting.

Riley didn't just kiss her; no, he had to possess her. Had to make her surrender to it. His hands hauled her closer, his lips claimed hers, and she couldn't hold back her sigh of pleasure because this was even better than her midnight fantasies.

At her little whimper, he groaned and deepened the kiss. Both of them staggered, and she fell back against the counter, Riley right with her, holding her, touching her, kissing and kissing her as if he never intended to let go.

She thought that just might be okay with her. She couldn't get enough, either. Her hands slid up his chest, around his neck, holding his head close to hers in case he decided he didn't want to kiss her anymore.

No chance. His hands held her captive between the hard counter and his even harder body. When she finally had to break off the kiss or suffocate, he simply shifted, dropping openmouthed kisses along her jaw, her neck, nuzzling at her collarbone where the material of her shirt gave away.

She did the same, tasting his skin, tugging on
his earlobe with her teeth, eliciting a deep-throated moan before he cupped her face again, holding her still to kiss her; harder, wetter, deeper than before.

Wrapped around each other as they were, the ringing didn't immediately sink into Holly's consciousness, but eventually they had to stop to breathe again, and that was when she realized she'd totally lost it.

“I have to get that,” she murmured, straightening.

He straightened, too, looking hot, bothered and so damn sexy she had to turn away from him to even remember her name.

And she still had trouble.

“Holly,” she murmured, placing a hand to her racing heart. “Holly Stone.”

Riley let out a shaky laugh. “I didn't expect anything like that.”

“But at least you didn't nearly forget your name.”

“No, but I forgot everything else.” He shoved a hand through his already messed-up hair and stared at her. “That was…amazing.”

The phone rang again.

They could only look at each other. Holly actually might have gotten to the phone, but she didn't, couldn't, move.

The machine picked up the call, and after the message had run, Holly's mother's voice filled the room.

“Holly? I heard from the Mendozas, they were upset enough to make a shore-to-ship call! Tell me you haven't really messed up as badly as we've heard. I need to know whether you think you can fix things or if I have to send someone out there. Holly? Is the situation still out of control?”

Holly looked at the machine. “The
situation?
” She had to laugh, with lips that were still wet from the most amazing kiss she'd ever had. She looked at Riley, who's lips were also wet. “Definitely still out of control,” she said to herself.

Riley seemed to agree with that assessment as he turned to face the counter, leaning on it with tensed arms as if he needed the extra support.

“Holly?” Her mother's very cultured voice sounded annoyed. “I need you to call me back right away, do you understand? If you're going to do this to me, I need to know immediately so I can save the entire operation—”

Holly whipped up the phone, hoping to stop the words before her mother could further humiliate her in front of Riley. “This is a café, Mother, not one of your patients.”

“You're there.”

“Yes, and I happen to have things perfectly under control.”

“How can you when you're dumping ice water into the laps of big, hungry men? Or hiring the town floozy?”

Riley was looking at her now, and the expression on his face held an interesting and horrifying mixture of pity and compassion. Damn him anyway. Didn't he realize her mother always spoke to her this way? That she'd never had faith in Holly, but that was okay because she didn't deserve it since she'd never done anything to earn that faith? “The water thing was an accident,” she muttered.

“How about the gas leak? Killing people is bad for business.”

“Yes, I realize that.” Holly turned her back to Riley. “Trust me, everything is going to be fine.”

“I'm not going to trust you,” her mother said, shocked at the very idea. “How can I? You've held more jobs than this entire family put together. You've never in your life remained with one project for more than it took you to lose interest in it.”

Well, that hurt.

It shouldn't, Holly reminded herself, not when it was true. But dammit, she was trying to change. “I realize I've never given you a reason to trust
me before, but things are different now. I—I really wanted to make you proud of me on this one. I think I still can.”

How embarrassing was this? She was practically begging for her mother's attention.

Even worse, Riley had come close, his big, tall body right behind hers. He cocked his head so his ear was close to hers, next to the receiver. She tried to move away but he slid his hands real soft and gentle around her waist.

She couldn't resist soft and gentle. She'd never felt it before, not like this.

“Holly, this isn't the time to resolve your issues with your family,” her mother said. “Just don't make me look bad, I promised the—”

While her mother droned on, Riley switched tactics. He shifted to her other side, to her free ear, and whispered, “Hang up.”

“I can't,” she mouthed, pushing him away.

Riley refused to be budged.

“—we're trying to sell that place,” her mother continued, on a roll. “It has to look good when potential buyers come through. I should see if I can get your brother or sisters, or someone, out there, I—”

“I can do this,” Holly said, and dammit, her voice wavered. “I just need some more time.” She
might have even groveled, because this project had come to mean so much more than she could have ever imagined.

But Riley was right there, listening to every word, watching her with an intensity that made her want to squirm, and she refused to show him her weaknesses.

“I just want you to admit you're in over your head,” her mother said.

Over her dead body. “Mother, I—”

Static burst in her ear, only it wasn't the phone. It was Riley, doing a great imitation of a bad connection.

He winked at her and went on making the obnoxious noise.

She grinned back, suddenly feeling…light. “Gotta run, Mother. Bad connection.”

“Holly! Don't you dare—”

Riley pushed his finger onto the base, effectively cutting her off.

“Nice timing,” she murmured.

“Yeah.” He shifted her in his arms, turning her to face him. “Now…where were we?”

“Oh, no, you don't.” With an uneasy laugh, she backed out of his arms. On the counter was an open container of flour, salt and the various makings of bread, which she was about to give a shot,
compliments of one of Maria's recipes. To keep both her mind and her hands busy, she dipped into the flour and began measuring.

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