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“No.” She shook her head. “Why would I be upset? We had sex. It happened. You’re clean. I’m clean. There will be no…” She gulped. “There will be no babies and we’re all good.”
His hand was still on her, but he cupped the side of her face and she couldn’t help herself—she leaned into him, welcoming his warmth.
“I’ll drive you to the airport.”
“No, I…I have my rental and I’ve got to get Josh there as well.”
He stepped closer to her, his warmth washing over her skin, his scent lingering in the air between them. “So you’re coming back in a few days then.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.”
“Good.” It was only word, but it was all she needed. For now.
“How long before you have to be at the airport?” His voice was husky, thick with sinful things.
She covered his large hand with her much smaller one. She knew what he was asking. And no they hadn’t really talked, but there was something here between them. And right now, in this moment, she was willing to forget about the talking in order keep whatever this was alive.
Here she was. Was she willing to jump?
“We have enough time for me to fulfill a fantasy I’ve always had.”
“Fantasy?” Matt flashed a smile. “I’ll do my best.”
“I’ve never had sex in the backseat of a car before.”
A thrill shot through Grace at the heated look in his eyes. He bent closer, his breath hot on her cheek. “Which one?”
Grace snuggled into him, and grabbed his hand. “Whichever one has the biggest backseat.”
Matt slid his mouth along her neck. “The Thunderbird doesn’t have a back seat but it’s front will do just fine.”
Her heart skipped a beat and she felt dizzy. Because she was already falling. Was the trip down going to be worth it this time? Would the pain be bearable if things went south?
In the end, Grace knew that there was only one way to find out. This man—this complicated, infuriating, tender, secretive man—was one hundred percent, totally worth it. She was going to jump.
“The Thunderbird it is.”
12
Thursday evening came on the heels of yet another two inches of snow. New Waterford was covered in the white stuff, and all the locals agreed that the area hadn’t seen this much snow in nearly one hundred years.
They still had two weeks until Thanksgiving, and already the small town was lit up like a Christmas tree. Apparently it didn’t take much to spread the holiday cheer, although that particular brand of joy hadn’t made its way to one very grumpy Matt Hawkins.
As he headed into the Grill, he had to ask himself for at least the tenth time, why in hell he’d decided to come out.
“Hurry up, Matt. Geez, I’m freezing my butt off out here.”
Oh. Right. Betty Jo Barker would be that pain-in-the-ass reason.
He opened the door and waited for her to enter, and they were immediately swarmed by the members of their challenge team. They joined the men and women at the bar, and eventually Matt relaxed. Betty hadn’t been home in ages and her sisters had all managed a night out.
Damn, he would have been better off watching the Red Wings game with Beau, Logan, and Shayne. But Betty wouldn’t hear of it, and he’d never been able to say no to the girl.
So Matt ordered a draft, grabbed a barstool, and settled in for the show. The Barker triplets were something to see, three identical women who couldn’t be more different in personality—and three women who attracted trouble like bees to honey.
Betty had always been his person, the hellraiser—the only other human being on the planet who really got him. And watching her whoop it up with her sisters made his heart swell. It was good to see her and he was damn glad she was back home.
“Missed me, didn’t you?” She nearly knocked him off his stool as she slipped her arms around him and yelled across the bar for a jug of beer. The girl had traveled the world as a model and had recently made a name for herself as a serious actress, but she was still a downhome Michigan girl. And she hadn’t changed a bit.
