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“Astroglide,” he said, choking on his laughter. “Good brand.”
Charley’s throat closed completely, so she said a silent prayer for the Virgin Mary to make her disappear, like right now.
Sadly, Mary evidently had the day off—or didn’t help non-Catholic non-virgins—because Charley stayed exactly where she was, trapped in the hallway with a man hotter than any man should be, talking about personal lubricant.
She tossed the remaining things in her bag and tried to make a hasty retreat to the bathroom, leaving the nightmare packet right where it was, but he grabbed her arm. Electricity skittered across her skin and pooled between her legs, and she bit her lip so she wouldn’t moan like a porn star. Nothing had ever felt this good, and the man was barely touching her.
Clinging to self-control by the skin of those proverbial teeth, she looked at him. His huge grin left no doubt how funny he found the situation.
He slid his fingers down her arm to her hand, turned it palm up, and dropped the foil packet into it. “You might want this later.”
Charley nodded her head and dashed into the ladies’ room. She’d used it before, but now it was her salvation since Mary hadn’t come through. She leaned against the door, and she could swear she heard him laughing on the other side.
Chapter Five
Charley waited an eternity for the return of quiet in the hallway. Pulling the door open a crack, she peeked out. No one. With feet quieter than a cat on the prowl, she sneaked past the men’s room and down the corridor.
She spied two motorcycle club members by the restaurant exit, but neither of them was the man she ran into. Thank Mary for that, at least.
Without making eye contact, Charley muttered a curt, “Excuse me,” and slipped out the exit into the humid night air. She rushed across the asphalt to her car, which was blissfully illuminated by the streetlight she’d parked under, but stumbled on the blasted high heels she loved so much. As she righted herself, her rear driver’s-side tire came into view. It was flatter than yesterday’s soda.
The low pressure light.
Oh god, she wanted to leave before that man came out. But bigger than her stupid humiliation, she needed to return home for the deadline. No client of hers was going to get in trouble with the IRS on her watch. That had been Daddy’s promise to everyone he ever signed, and she upheld it, no matter how foolish the client.
AAA. Charley took a calming breath. Suffering biker mortification again was a risk while awaiting a knight in shining tow truck, but she would be on her way.
Reaching into her bag, she found her phone and pulled it out. She pressed the button at the bottom, but nothing happened. She pressed it again. Zilch. No numbers showing the time. No starry night background.
Charley pressed it three times in rapid succession because everyone knows panic makes phones work better. Nothing.
She didn’t have a car charger. She’d never needed one since she charged her phone each night without fail. Using GPS twice over the mountains must have run it dry.
With effort, Charley stuffed her alarm back down. The owner, Roger. He’d let her borrow his phone.
Just then, the restaurant door squeaked open. Three bikers exited the building and headed toward their motorcycles. The man she’d crashed into was with them, right in front. She gasped, and it was like he heard it. He immediately altered his course and took her in from her head down to her shoes, a slow study that made her bones quiver. When he got to her heels, instead of coming back up, his head turned to the flat.
He closed the distance and stood inside Charley’s personal space, that area complete strangers were supposed to stay out of except in a crowded elevator. He invaded it like he owned it.
She started to step back, but his voice brought her up sharp. “You got a flat.”
Part of her wanted to quip how observant he was, but instead she watched his full lips form the words and slide into a smile. He wasn’t teasing her, not like outside the bathrooms.
“Want me to change it for you?”
She whipped her eyes to his, and her face warmedagain. He must have seen her staring at his mouth. She had to swallow, a big gushing sound in her ears, before she could answer. “I was going to call AAA, but my phone’s dead.”
“The AAA responder lives over in Selima and would take an hour to get here. Don’t know why they contract with someone so far away, but they do.” His focus went soft. “Can’t have a beautiful woman waiting in a dark parking lot. Wouldn’t be safe.”
He’d called her beautiful. Well, that was something to balance the embarrassment.
Then he smiled again. It was a little predatory, but Charley could have sworn there was a twinkle in his eyes. Those chocolate confections were expressive, like they had secrets she just had to learn.
She knew what most people would say—tell him “no” in a decisive voice and go back into the restaurant. She didn’t even consider it.
“Dog, you coming?” one of the bikers yelled from across the lot.
He glanced over his shoulder. “Go on. I’m staying behind.”
