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“Afraid next time even an audience won’t stop me.”
His muscles reacted to her words before his brain did, growing tense and aware. His skin suddenly seemed electrified—reacting with lightning intensity to her nearness, the smell of her hair, the brush of air her whispers created on his neck.
“Come to the fairgrounds with me.” He forced the command out of his throat rather than doing what he really wanted to do—kiss her senseless again and see if she meant it. But their daytime audience was more impressionable than last Sunday’s, so he stifled the impulse. His hand still on her arm, he turned, intending to lead her to his trailer. Not a four-star establishment, but it was the nearest private place he knew of. At least, the nearest private place with a bed. Which was exactly where the two of them were going to end up—he knew it as sure as he knew he was ready to start living this part of his life again. Emotion might have been dead to him for a while, but his libido had woken up and it had this woman’s name engraved on it.
She didn’t budge. “You don’t really know me.”
“I know you grew up in your minister grandfather’s house, have lived here for a year, you love your boss.” Brushing a strand of hair away from her eyes, he added, “I know you like cotton candy.”
“I repeat, you don’t know me.”
“Are you married?”
She shook her head.
He didn’t even ask if she had a boyfriend, knowing even that wouldn’t matter to him. “Then I know enough.”
“No,” she insisted. “Look, I like you. Really. But I’m not in the position to have a one-night stand with a stranger. My life’s not as…simple as it might appear.”
“My full name’s Damon Cole. And our walk—not to mention the kiss—says we’re no longer strangers. Besides, I don’t like simple.”
A tiny smile appeared. “Mine’s Allie Cavanaugh.”
He noted the name, just in case she managed to slip away again. “I don’t want a one-night stand with a stranger either,” he said. “But we’ve established that we’re now officially not strangers.” He looked up and pointed at the brilliant blue sky. “And it’s not night.”
Snagging her bottom lip between her teeth, she fought a visible battle not to laugh…or agree. He could almost see the mind working behind her eyes as she gave it some serious thought.
He knew what she was thinking. They were on the verge of being wild. Crazy. Reckless. All of the above.
But it came down to chemistry. They had it. For whatever reason, they sparked off one another in a way few people did, even those who proclaimed everlasting love and fidelity. He didn’t necessarily believe his grandmother’s stories of soul mates and love at first sight, but he definitely believed in chemistry.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said, her answer clear. “I guess I should have kept on walking when I saw you there.”
His jaw tightened. “You’re saying no?”
She nodded, though her frown told him she didn’t want to.
“When I know you want to say yes.”
With a helpless shrug, she tugged her arm free. “Maybe I do. I’ll be honest with you, right now, I don’t know what I want.”
He tried to coax a smile. “Other than cotton candy?”
Her lips didn’t even twitch. “I ate too much and got sick. I think I cured myself of giving in to silly cravings for a while.”
His chin lifted in challenge. “Including your craving for me?”
A typical female might have become indignant, denied his claim and tried to pierce his supreme confidence. Allie didn’t. “Yes. Including my craving for you.” With a sigh, she lifted a hand to his cheek and rubbed her thumb along his jaw, the brush of her smooth fingers cool and hot all at once. “I’ll regret it,” she said. “Believe me, I already know I’ll regret it. Goodbye, Damon.”
Without another word, she began to walk away. And because of the hungry helplessness in her voice, her obvious regret and their audience in the park, Damon had no choice but to watch her go.
“WHADDAYA MEAN YOU don’t know what you want? Any woman with a drop of estrogen in her body would want that man!”
Allie glanced over at Tessa, who was working with her at the library bake sale Saturday night. Already mourning the carnival’s imminent departure, all of Trouble’s residents appeared to have turned up to gorge themselves on candy apples and get dizzy on the Tilt-A-Whirl. “I can’t afford to want him.”
“Come on, what woman can’t afford a night of booty-shaking, rock-til-you-drop sex with a hot stranger you’ll never have to see again?” She rolled her eyes. “Imagine one night with a dream man who you’ll never have to watch scratch himself or get a beer gut or snort when he tells his nephews to pull his finger.”
Allie grinned, knowing the kinds of guys Tessa dated.
