Chapter Fourteen
Tiffany woke with the sheets tangled in her legs and sweat coating her torso. A night weaving through one erotic fantasy after another left her hot and aching. Even in her dreams, she had no business whoring it up with Thomas Hunter. Maybe a run would scratch the itch clawing under her skin. It’d been days since her last workout. The cellulite must be multiplying as she lay there.
She pulled on a pair of workout pants and a crop top. The top ended well above her belly button and left her stomach bare. Her pants didn’t help, cut low across the hips. They were fine for a session of hot yoga in a Chicago gym, but she hadn’t anticipated slogging down the road in rural Utah. There was nothing for it. Even her book wasn’t relieving her itchiness. She needed to work off some of her excess energy. Quietly, she let herself out into the still morning. She checked the time on her phone and winced. Only the very brave and very stupid got up at this time. The mountains blurred in an early morning haze draped over the land. Dew sparkled in lacy cobweb festoons between the trees and threw a blanket of bling over the grass.
After a few stretches, she set out. Her footsteps pounded a dull tramp in the still morning. Selecting her running playlist, she slipped in her ear buds. The higher elevation jammed in her chest almost immediately and she slowed her pace. It really was rather beautiful with the mountains providing a dramatic counterpoint to the brush.
A car passed her and the driver raised her hand and waved. Tiffany smiled. It was the sort of courtesy you forgot about until you saw it happen. It was nice. She kept the run short. God knew where she could end up if she strayed too far from the motel. Still, by the time she turned, her mood had lifted. Her breathing adjusted to the altitude and she’d worked up a decent sweat. The sun gained some height, and with it, the last of the morning cool vanished. She calculated calories burned by her run. That would go some way to dealing with the hot dog she’d eaten last night at the drive-in. She hadn’t had a hot dog since she’d gone to a kid’s birthday party when she was five. Daddy had almost hopped out of his skin. It was very lucky he wasn’t there to see her now. Ice cream and a hot dog, all in one day. He might have a coronary.
The careful eating habits from her pageant days were ingrained. It had made Daddy so happy when she won. Maybe because her mother had been a model, and Daddy tried to mold her into a perfect replica of the original. She didn’t remember much of her mother: the scent of Joy, eyes the same color as hers, and a laugh that made everyone around her smile. Things might have been different if her mother had lived.
The motel pool water sparkled and beckoned her from across the parking lot. She pulled her phone out of the pouch sewn into her pants and turned off her music. A short swim would be great, but she hadn’t thought to pack a swimsuit. Of course, she hadn’t planned on being stranded in Youngtown, Utah, for however many days it took Chuck to produce a radiator.
There was nobody at the pool. She could be in and out before anyone noticed. Her running top would work for one half of her. There was one pair of shorts in her bags that might do the trick. She headed for her room.
And plowed straight into a warm wall of muscle. Thomas, hot and male, and smelling like heaven. Her hands made contact with his hard pecs. Reflexively, her fingers curled into the warm muscle. The skin on her belly slid against his, washing her in a wave of heat that spread from the point of contact to murmur temptation low in her belly. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
Holy shit. Thomas was an eye feast. Big, hard, and cut in all the right places. His large hands burned through the fabric at her hips.
“Hi.” Her voice came out in a stupid tween fangirl squeak.
Rough and hoarse, his voice stroked her spine. “Hi.”
“Um, sorry, I didn’t see you there.” Her face must be all red and sweaty, and she had zero makeup on. Her knees did a weird collapse thing and she had to tighten her muscles to keep herself upright.
He was naked from the waist upward. The scent of soap clung to him. Naked skin pressed against hers in a slow, steady burn. “Have you been for a run?”
Her mind blanked. She didn’t trust her voice, so she nodded at his chest.
Dark brown nipples stood out against the tan of his chest with a very light dusting of hair in the center. Sweet Mother of God, but he had those sort of washboard abs that made her head go fuzzy. And carved laterals disappearing into the waistband of his board shorts.
“You’re going for a swim?” A rush, more breath than vocal. She spent her working life around seriously cut men wearing a lot less. She’d run oil all over bodies like this one only a few days ago and her breathing had been fine. Her fingers spread across his muscle, anticipating rubbing oil all over him. If she leaned forward an inch, she could press her mouth to the curve of his throat.
A distinct rasp made her look up. “Tiffany?”
“Yes.” Right there in that lazy, hot blue gaze was the burn telling her he felt it, too. She melted under his unwavering stare, hypnotized.
“It seems we have a bit of a problem.”
No problem, yelled her hormones.
“This thing between us—”
“No.” It came out more like yes, and she cleared her throat. “No,” she said and tried to mean it. “I can’t.” She pried her fingers away from his smooth muscle and stepped back. “It’s not going to be a problem, because I’m not going to let it be.”
His hands dropped from her hips immediately. She missed the warmth.
His lips twitched. “If you say so.”
“I do.” She nodded so hard, her ponytail jerked up and down. Ryan was waiting for her at home. Ahead of her was Luke and the messed-up issue of her divorce. There was no space in her life for another man, however good he smelled or however much she wanted to wrap herself around him. “I can’t.”
He stared down at her, his face unreadable. For a moment, she wanted him to argue with her, sweet-talk her out of her decision. He shrugged and stepped away. “Okay.”
She felt cheated, and she had no right to. Dredging up a smile, she said, “Enjoy your swim.”
He spun and strolled toward the pool, leaving a gaping, man-sized hole where he’d stood.
She opened her door and slipped inside. Then she risked a peek around the doorjamb. Damn, but he had a great body. His faded board shorts hung indecently low on his hips, but curved around his ass lovingly. She rubbed her hands together vigorously to get rid of the imprint of his chest. Her decision had to be final. With another nod she shut the door to her motel room. It hit the latch with a determined click. Okay, time to stop screwing around. She was attracted to Thomas Hunter, but that didn’t mean anything. There were lots of attractive men in the world. This wouldn’t be the last time she looked at another man and tingled in all the right places. They were animals. Sexual attraction was part of the drive to reproduce. And there were some mighty fine animals prowling around on two legs. She didn’t need to freak out every time her ovaries recognized a good sperm donor.
Her phone vibrated and she looked down.
Let’s talk, Ryan texted.
She smiled at her phone. Thomas Hunter was hot, but Ryan was the man for her. She dialed his number.
He answered almost immediately. “Hey, there. Are we fighting?”
“Not anymore.” She laughed, relief making her almost giddy. “Are you calling because you miss me?”
“Always.” That was sweet. She had no business being mad at Ryan. He’d told her the truth. She was the lying dirtbag here. Guilt could be messing with her head. Getting her all hot and bothered over Thomas. With things back to normal with Ryan, her girl parts would behave again.
“Where are you?” Ryan asked.
“Sulking.” Back to normal with Ryan meant getting this Luke thing squared away.
“You know that is only self-defeating, right?”
“I know.” She loved how grown up Ryan was. “I’ll be home in a day or two. Now, tell me what you’ve been up to.”
Ryan took the invitation at a gallop.
She made the appropriate noises into the phone as he told her about an up-and-coming real estate deal he was involved in, something to do with warehouses and an office complex. She only really heard the numbers. Testing her theory, she peered through the blinds on the window facing the parking lot and the pool beyond.
Thomas stood there, water streaming down the planes of his chest.
A girl could lick—she snapped the blind shut. Too soon. She wrapped up the conversation with Ryan and made sure to say good-bye nicely.
In the shower, she made a decision. This was a boundary thing. Hers blurred around Thomas. They were merely strangers traveling the same path for a short time. When each of them got what they wanted from Luke, this would be over. When Dakota was settled with his brother, they would part ways. Thomas would go back to whatever it was an engineer did in Africa, and she would start planning the most perfect wedding day.
She dug through her suitcases and found an Alexander Wang tank dress and paired it with a pair of high-heeled sandals. Now she felt like the real Tiffany. A visit to the Miura was next on her list. An entire day in rural southern Utah was a challenge to fill. But there would be no more outings alone with Thomas. From now on, they went everywhere as a threesome or not at all.
“Good plan, girl.” She gave herself a firm nod in the mirror. The dress clung to her in all the right places. After she’d seen the car, she’d use the rest of the day to get a jump on wedding planning. She would need to see what was trending in wedding dresses. There was also the venue to be considered, flowers, the right caterer, all that stuff.
Of course, Ryan and his mother would want a say. His mother was a lady of strong opinions, which she liked to share. And Daddy would want to be consulted about everything. His princess was getting married. It was a big day for him. A big day for her, she meant. Her big day. Mrs. Ryan Cooper. Her heartbeat accelerated uncomfortably and a fine sweat broke over her skin. She wanted to be Tiffany Cooper, most of the time.
She grabbed her purse. Stepping out of the room, she surprised a middle-aged man dressed in overalls.
He took a step back when he saw her and uttered a hasty “Ma’am.”
Tiffany nodded to the man and stalked down the corridor to the room next door. She rapped sharply on the door. “I’m going to take a walk to the repair shop,” she called through the closed door.
“Like that?” Dakota spoke from almost directly behind her.
Tiffany jumped and spun around.
Hands jammed in his pockets, Dakota raked his gaze over her. “You’re wearing that to a repair shop?”
She refused to be intimidated by a seventeen-year-old. Tiffany raised her chin and stared back. Yes, she didn’t blend in with the locals, but she wasn’t a local, so there really was no problem.
The door to Thomas’s room opened behind her. His presence hit her in a warm wave. “Why don’t we drive?”
Tiffany looked down at her heels. That was probably for the best. She gave a vague nod in his direction, careful not to make eye contact, and moved toward the truck. Her nape prickled a warning that his gaze was on her. He opened her door and she smiled her thanks at his shoulder. The smell of soap on warm skin teased her as he climbed into the truck beside her.
Outside her car window, the day began in Youngtown. A young couple with a stroller and their dog raised their hands and waved. She sensed Thomas looking over at her once or twice, but she kept to her view. The whisper of sound from Dakota’s music was the only break in the silence.
The repair shop was hosting a town meeting as they drove up. About twenty men milled around the parking lot, chatting to the mechanic. The star of the show? The Miura. The car must’ve been washed because she sat there gleaming like a visiting queen, all the men clucking around her.
Tiffany opened her door and jumped down before Thomas could do the honors.
As one, the men turned to look at her. Tiffany pushed her shoulders back and glided over. “Good morning,” she greeted the gathering at large.
A bass rumble responded.
The mechanic, who had a fresh pair of overalls on for the occasion, materialized from the crowd. A shiny name tag announced his name as Corey. “The boys came on over to admire your little lady.” His gaze drifted between her and the car.
Behind him the men bobbed their heads in agreement.
“It ain’t often we see something like her in these parts.”
Again, she really hoped he was talking about the car.
More rumbling and nodding from the fan club.
Corey sidled closer. “Your man, Chuck, gave me a bell this morning. Said that radiator was on her way. He dug one up in Salt Lake, so he’s sending her on down. Should get here before I finish my lunch.”
Tiffany got an eye-watering waft of cologne. She greeted the news with a big smile and an inward wave of relief. “That’s great. Do you know how long it will take you to get it installed?”
“Shouldn’t take me long. If we get no problems from her, she’ll be done by this evening.” Corey winked at her, flashing a dazzling white smile. “Got me some help to make it go a bit faster.”
“I knew I could rely on you, Corey.” She touched his arm. A little positive reinforcement never hurt. And she was out of Youngtown that evening. Hell, yes.
Thomas whistled something beneath his teeth. It sounded a lot like Tom Jones’s “Delilah.” Smart-ass. But nothing could get her down right now. Corey would get the radiator that afternoon. She would be on the road again by tomorrow morning.
“I took a bit of a liberty this morning.” Corey sidled closer. “Seeing as she don’t like to be driven all that much. I asked Hank, over there”—a heavyset man with a handlebar moustache nodded in her direction—“if you could use his trailer. Hank’s a bit of a collector and he has one of them fancy trailers you can put this little beauty up on.”
“It would be my honor,” said Hank, his voice surprisingly high for his walrus appearance.
“Of course, we’ll rent it from you,” Thomas said. “I can drop it back when we head back to Chicago. Once we get the car to where she’s going.”
A shocked silence descended on the parking area. “You aren’t keeping her?”
Tiffany could have kicked Thomas as all the men turned to look at her with varying degrees of horror. “Unfortunately, she’s not mine.” Her chest tightened as she said the words. Long, fast rides down quiet roads were a thing of the past. “I’ve only been able to look after her for a short while.”
Corey looked at her mournfully.
“I’m really going to miss her.” Tiffany’s throat clogged. Seven years of love and money into making the Miura beautiful again. After what Tiffany had done to the beautiful old car, it seemed only fair.
“I’m sure you will.” Corey patted her shoulder awkwardly. “She sure is a thing of beauty.”
“Thank you.” She cleared her throat. Stupid getting sentimental over something that wasn’t even yours. “You’ve been great.”
Corey went all shades of red and actually looked a little misty eyed.
Thomas whistled again.
Corey shot him a frown. “That feller of yours all right?”
“He’s not my feller.” Tiffany leaned forward to confide. Aftershave hit her in waves. “And I’m not really sure what’s wrong with him.”
Dakota kicked up dust as they made their way back to the truck. “Now what?”
She stepped into the truck and waved. The entire parking area waved back. Such a nice group of men.
“We could go for a walk,” Thomas said. “The countryside around here is quite spectacular.”
“Lame.” Dakota switched his attention to his phone.
For a second she was tempted to go with Thomas. And that made the decision for her. “I have things to do.”
And those things did not include Thomas Hunter.