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“I haven’t figured it out yet.”
And that’s why you don’t do crazy. “But you think California?”
Daylight filtered by the curtains turned her eyes Pacific blue, and he could practically see the long shadows of palm trees swaying in their depths. “I won’t know ‘til I give it a try.”
Not the response of a woman looking to settle down anytime soon. His primary reaction to that realization should have been relief, but right at this moment, he didn’t care for the reminder that her time in Bluelick was limited. “Maybe, but I bet I could make a few of your places really happy in the meantime.” He drew a meandering arrow up her rib cage, deliberately tickling the sensitive skin while inching toward her breast. She laughed and scooted away, arms hugged to her sides.
“Don’t you dare, West. Two can play this game, and I happen to know where you’re vulnerable.” She risked an attempt to tickle his side but instantly retreated to her balled-up position when he countered by running his fingers along her unguarded flank.
“Vulnerable? Me? I have longer arms and a significant weight advantage. Oh, and a much more fascinating array of targets to choose from.” To demonstrate those advantages, he propped himself up on one elbow and cruised his hand over her thigh.
That led to some definite thrashing. “Aaack! No!”
He stopped to let her breathe. “Not there, huh? How about here?” A moment of grappling and he had her over his lap. She squealed and twisted in some highly ineffective evasive maneuvers as he skipped his fingertips down the small of her back and over some very vulnerable curves.
“Oh God. No more.” Her feet kicked the mattress as if trying to swim away. “You win.”
Did he? He dialed his touch back to the barest glide of fingertips and waited for her to catch her breath. “There are terms to your surrender.”
“Wha…?” The word dissolved into a fit of residual laughter. She tossed her hair out of her face and tried again. “What terms?”
He drew a bullseye over one cheek and appreciated the way the smooth skin puckered with goose bumps. “Go out for ice cream with me tonight.”
Her smile wavered for an instant then slipped sideways into a smirk of pure challenge. “That depends.”
“On?” He retraced the bullseye.
This time instead of squirming for freedom, she lifted her hips and then lowered them so his ever-hardening cock nestled in what could easily become his happy place. “Someone recently told me going out for ice cream is a euphemism for having sex. Are we talking ice cream or are we talking a proper fucking?”
You could do a reasonable degree of crazy. “You’ll have to say yes to find out.”
“I guess that could be arranged, but”—she wiggled her hips—“what if I’m craving a treat right now?”
He pulled her up until she straddled him. “I guess that could be arranged, as well.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Whatever you’re on, girl, I need me a dose.”
Roxy laughed at Addy’s comment and continued wiping down the counter. “What can I say? The Sunday dinner shift is a goldmine. A morning of church makes people extra generous with their tips.”
Addy returned from switching the door sign from OPEN to CLOSED and dropped onto a stool between Melody Merritt-Bradley, one-time jilted fiancée, now happily married to the fire chief, and Ginny Buchanan, beauty salon owner and duly elected mayor of Bluelick, affectionately known as “Sweet Virginia” by her police chief husband, Shaun.
“Nope, that’s not it,” Addy said. “I don’t care how good a shift is or how many tips you rake in, it doesn’t leave you grinning like you slept with a banana in your mouth.”
Ginny, a flame-haired firecracker bearing a passing resemblance to Princess Ariel—if the Disney version had grown up on the working-class side of the tracks in a small southern town—propped her elbows on the counter and aimed an emerald green gaze at Roxy. “Uh-uh. Not a banana, but based on that smile, I’d hazard you had something in your mouth.”
Melody let out a mock gasp and thwacked her friend on the arm with the back of her hand. “Is that any way for the mayor to talk?”
Addy laughed, but on Melody’s other side, Ellie Longfoot, town doctor and petite counterpart to tall, rangy Tyler, scrunched her brow over her soulful brown eyes. “I don’t understand. Medically speaking, almost nothing you put in your mouth will enhance your smile.”
Ginny looked down the counter at her. “Seriously? This question from the woman married to Tyler Footlong Longfoot?”
“What’s Tyler got to do with…ohhhhh.” Her Bambi eyes widened as realization dawned. “A dick!” she whispered and pointed at Roxy. “You slept with a dick in your mouth.”
“I, um…” Roxy found herself in the crosshairs of four sets of eyes. The merriment dancing in the big, brown ones made her suspect Dr. Swann had deliberately played dumb. She took a final swipe at the counter and then folded her towel with more care than the task deserved. “I can neither confirm nor deny.” She had no regrets, but West wouldn’t appreciate her broadcasting his moment of weakness all over town.
“That’s a confirmation,” Addy said, almost reverently. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a dick anywhere near me, I didn’t recognize the smile.”
