AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Such was the power of Jeremiah Stone.
His eyes touched Lucy’s face, the lipstick she’d put on because she thought she looked so tired and worn without it. The black shirt that her mother said was going to give men the wrong impression, and from the look in Jeremiah’s eye as he traced the neckline with his gaze, she’d have to give the point to her mother.
Jeremiah was getting an impression all right, but Lucy couldn’t say if it was wrong.
“What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” he asked and she laughed, because he’d meant her to, because he was so charming that such a cheesy line got new life coming from his mouth.
“Waiting for you to get so drunk you pay me money to drive you home.”
She lifted the cup of coffee she’d been nursing to her lips and took a sip. Terrible. Really, really awful. If this taxi thing was going to work out, Joey was going to have to invest in some decent coffee. Maybe clean the machine for the first time this decade.
“You’re still doing this?”
“A woman’s got to work.” She tried to sound as if she believed in this taxi thing. But she knew it was ridiculous. She knew it was a bizarre downward turn for her. It was one thing to run Patty and the girls to the Snip and Curl for their hair appointments, but hanging out here waiting for drunk cowboys was a new low.
But she could not sit at that ranch tonight, doing nothing. Counting the money she owed people, praying the condo sold well enough to clear half her debt.
Watching her mother knit.
It was insane.
And this…this ridiculous taxi business was her only alternative.
“You’re going to drive drunk cowboys home wearing that?”
“You sound like my mother.” She leaned back, confident in not only what she’d worn, but in the fact that she could handle a drunk cowboy. She’d been doing it for a number of years. Drunk men were sort of a specialty of hers. A product of Walter.
“Well, your mother is a smart woman.” He stood up from his seat, all smooth charm gone as he towered over her. “You want to drive people around, fine, you can drive my boys all you like. I’ll pay you. But this...” He jerked his thumb behind him at the crowd of men and women behind him. “This is asking for trouble.”
“You know, Jeremiah,” she said, her temper pricked by his high-handedness. “I am a grown woman.”
“Yeah, a beautiful, sexy grown woman who shouldn’t be alone in a car with half the men in here, even when they’re sober.”
The beautiful sexy thing she’d known, it was in his eyes when he looked at her, in his lips when they’d kissed. But it was sort of shocking to hear him say it. An electric current charged through her, waking her body up in a painful rush.
“You sure you want to talk about this? I’d hate for it to get too deep and you break into hives.”
“If I do, just tell me what color your underwear is.”
It was the devil, the devil in her, the devil in his eyes, the devil that didn’t understand what she was doing wasting her time with a taxi service. The devil made her do it.
She leaned forward, close enough to smell him, spicy and manly and clean. “What underwear?” she whispered.
His laughter boomed through the bar, turning everyone’s head. “You are a wicked, wicked woman, Lucy Alatore.”
She leaned back, satisfied and giddy with the power of the attraction between them. It was dangerous, she knew that, but...well, it was fun.
“So, this taxi business?”
“You won’t let go of this, will you?”
His grin was pure sex. Knowledgeable wild sex. This was going to be fun.
“I’m working on some commitment issues.”
“Really? Me too.”
“I knew we were alike.”
“I think I have the opposite commitment issue from you.” She folded the paper with a sharp crack.
“What exactly are you saying?” he asked, pretending to be wounded.
“I’ve done one job, and one job only, my entire life. It’s been jewelry and design since I was a teenager—over twenty years, Jeremiah.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Most people would love to have a calling. Hell, if I could still ride I’d be in the rodeo.”
“But I failed at that calling. Or it failed me, I don’t know. I just know it’s time for me to do something different.”
“What does that have to do with commitment? Or us?”
She leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand, looking him square in his beautiful eyes. “How many woman have you slept with?”
“No way.” He shook his head. “I will never tell you.”
“Because you’re embarrassed?”
“No. I mean, it’s not that many. Everyone thinks because a man knows how to talk to a woman he’s slept with half the population.”
