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A big swell of mom pride filled my chest but underneath it was the usual flutter of worry, the ever-present feeling of Am I doing this right? There was no one to back me up, no one to ask questions. My mom was gone and Paige was great but she was a nanny, not a parent. And soon it would get harder. Cody would start falling in love and dating and then having sex… If he was a girl, I could teach him about the dangers of men, but how did I make sure Cody turned into one of the good ones?
I sighed and looked off into the crowd. And that’s when I saw JD, marching determinedly towards us.
My brain struggled to process the image because it couldn’t be, not him, not here. But there was no mistaking that jaw line with its dark stubble, or the way he walked, slow and absolutely certain, unstoppable as an advancing tank.
The image of him flashed from my eyes to my brain and triggered a highlight reel of all my memories of that day in Mexico. The sharp tang of tequila in my nostrils as he smashed the bottle over the kidnapper’s head. The protective growl in his voice when he’d told me he was going to get me the hell out of here. The amazing solidness against my chest when I hugged him outside our hotel and the cold void when I’d had to let him go. My eyes went to those big, calloused hands and my chest went tight. I was remembering his hand squeezing mine and Cody’s, that feeling of not being alone.
My dad sauntered up to stand beside me. “What’s he doing here?” I croaked, my eyes still locked on JD.
I could hear the smile in my dad’s voice as he followed my gaze. “I might have invited him.”
I turned to stare at him, my eyes saying what my voice couldn’t. Daaad!
He grinned and turned to watch JD approach. I turned too and Oh God he was really here and close, now. People were shuffling out of his way, the men blinking at his battered boots and faded blue jeans, the women ogling the jutting curves of his pecs beneath his white shirt. In his cream Stetson and mirrored aviator sunglasses, he was the only person who looked more out of place than me. But he didn’t seem at all self-conscious. In fact, he didn’t seem to register the crowd at all. He stared straight ahead, utterly focused on his target.
I saw a flash of white fabric and blue flowers in his sunglasses.
He was focused on me.
The shock earthquaked through me, turning to heat when it reached my skin. No one had ever looked at me like that. It felt insane and wonderful.
I drew in a slow breath, trying to be cool. But then he arrived in front of me, his broad shoulders filling my vision, and the raw presence of him set off a five-reel jackpot in my head. All the secret fantasies I’d had in the week since Mexico clattered out into my mind. JD between my thighs, that hard ass rising and falling as he fucked me with fast, hard strokes. Me riding him, his big hands squeezing my breasts just the right sort of roughly. Me on my knees, ass in the air, and cheek pressed to the pillow as he drove into me from behind. I swallowed and stared up at him. It felt like the fantasies were being projected right onto my beet-red face: he’d see every naked inch of us.
In slow motion, I saw his hand lift away his aviator sunglasses. Then I was looking right into those amazing prairie-sky eyes and they were narrowing, crinkling at the corners: oh God, he knew exactly what I was thinking. Surprise flickered over his face. Then lust.
I swallowed and crushed my thighs together hard. There was something about him I reacted to, that solidness, that rough realness. My mind is always spinning, running numbers and figuring out weights and balance. But JD just stopped it dead. I could feel myself getting wet. God, what’s happening to me?
But it wasn’t just me. JD took a half-step forward as if pulled: he was as out of control as I was, and he seemed to be all about control. He loomed closer, towering over me, and I caught my breath. Then he seemed to catch himself and he shuffled back a half inch and tipped the brim of his Stetson to me. “Ma’am.”
I just stared up at him, overcome. I’d never had that effect on anyone, including my ex-husband. And the tip of the hat: it was sweetly old-fashioned and charming, especially coming right after that flash of raw lust.
JD turned to my dad. “Mr. McBride,” he said respectfully. “Thanks for inviting me.”
