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EIGHT

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~Cora~

I HADN’T MEANT TO TELL him so much about my career, or my father. But at least it was out there now. I didn’t have to hide everything about myself from him. Actually, I was compelled to tell him everything about myself. And I wanted to know everything about him, too.

“I can see how making something would be more satisfying than tearing it down. Although I can appreciate the freedom in just pulling shit out and throwing it around to get it out of the way. Kind of like a brutal cleansing.” My smile grew. “Or like tossing some jerk on their ass.”

He took another bite of his ribs. “God, this is good. It might actually be the best in the state.”

“Well, it’s New England...is that such a high bar to hit? I mean, it’s not like you’re talking Texas BBQ, where the real masters are.”

“Oh? And you’ve been to Texas to check out that world-class grub?”

I hesitated. “Yeah. I’ve been there a few times. A perk of growing up in the travel industry. I’ve been to lots of places, from when I was a little girl. I can remember being on airplanes and the stewardess bringing me a Shirley Temple.”

“So you’ve never been able to hold your liquor, huh?” He laughed and his eyes sparkled at me, momentarily stunning me into silence.

“Well, I was like four or five, so I doubt anyone would’ve given me anything stronger than that Shirley Temple. Besides, it was the whole experience of being on a plane and drinking like a grownup that stuck in my head.”

“First class, huh? Must have been nice.” He took a sip of his beer. “I’ve bummed around the country a bit since I graduated from high school about six years ago, but not too many plane rides. Met some nice people, and some not-so-nice ones, too. Traveled by train and bus, mostly.”

“And where did those trains and busses take you? Or actually, where are you from originally? Was this your destination or your starting point for your grand adventures?”

“Yeah, I’m from here. Allentown, to be precise. Moved around a bit when I was a kid, but mostly different apartments and houses with my mom. And then she married Jake’s dad, and we moved in with them.” His focus drifted off for a moment. Then, shaking himself, he said, “But after high school, I was ready to take off. Took the Greyhound to the Midwest—the farthest I could get on the cheapest ticket out of town. I kicked around there, doing odd jobs and getting by. Worked as a convenience store clerk on the graveyard shift, a janitor for a cleaning company, a forklift driver...let’s see, I think there was a short stint as a warehouse packer, but that was like for a week or something...hated that one.”

“Is that why you came back home? Bad job choices? Or was it something else?” Please don’t say it was for a girlfriend...or because of a girlfriend. Shit—where did that thought come from? It shouldn’t matter to me whether he came back for a girlfriend or for a job or for any particular reason. But it did.

“Bad job choices factored into it, sure, but I was getting tired of drifting around, no real friends or roots to keep me in place. And then Jake bought that bar, fixed it up. I thought I’d check it out, and ran into Ryan there. The rest is history, as they say.” Dixon licked the BBQ sauce off his fingers, and my gaze was pulled to the action.

I couldn’t seem to look away, imagining his tongue licking something...someone...else. Me. I gulped and took a sip of my drink, trying to tear my eyes away.

“Are you checking me out again, Ms. Stetson? Tsk, tsk...can’t even pretend it’s the booze making you so bold and brazen. Or...that Coke isn’t hiding some Jack in it, is it?” His teasing tone was cut short by the waitress coming to check on us.

“You need anything else?” The blonde bombshell leaned over Dixon, practically shoving her cleavage in his face. She totally ignored me—I was invisible as she perused Dixon like a slab of meat.

“No, thanks. Just the check when you get a chance.” Dixon hardly looked at her and kept his heated gaze in my direction. “We’ll get dessert at home, right, gum drop?”

“Uh, yeah, right, cuddle bear. Dessert at home sounds great.” I could hardly keep my laughter to myself when I made up that ridiculous endearment for him. Served him right for calling me gum drop.

The waitress gave me a withering glare, turned on her high heels, and left without another word.

“Cuddle bear?”

My grin couldn’t be contained. “What? You can dish it out, but you can’t take it? If you can call me gum drop, I can call you cuddle bear.” I took a last slurp of my soda. “And no, there’s no Jack in my Coke. I’m perfectly sober, thank-you-very-much.” God, if there had been any Jack in that Coke, I’d be calling him more than cuddle bear—more like Mr. Panty Melter or stud muffin. Hell, I’d probably be speechless if he kept that steady gaze on me and just let him do whatever felt right at the moment. Which would probably be amazing. And bad. Don’t forget...you don’t need entanglements right now. That little voice might be the voice of reason, but I was ready to tell it to shut up already.

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AFTER OUR LATE LUNCH, it was only about a half-hour drive back to Jake’s. And for that full thirty minutes, we played the radio, singing along to the songs and laughing at each other’s off-key renditions and wrong lyrics.

“That is so not ‘We built this city on sausage rolls’! Oh my God!” I laughed so hard, I was gasping for breath. “And that is the worst song ever! I can even prove it!” I grabbed my phone and searched for “Worst Song Ever.” Not surprisingly, the first results were the infamous song that Dixon was belting out—with the wrong lyrics and warbling like a bird on speed. “See! The internet says so!”

Dixon grinned at me. “Nope. ‘Ice Ice Baby’ is the worst song ever.” He whistled the tune while pulling into the parking lot and then turning off the engine.

“And should I mention that you quoted this ‘worst song ever’ when you were looking in the freezer for ice for my ankle? I think you like the worst songs ever—you probably even have that CD from that old music talent show—you know, the guy who couldn’t sing, never made it to the actual show, but somehow got three albums produced.” I pointed my finger into his chest, my mock horror in full force.

“The talented Mr. William Hung was just misunderstood by the masses. ‘She Bangs’ is a classic for the ages.” He took my finger from his chest and wrapped his hand around it, pulling my full hand into the warmth of his palm.

The cab of the truck turned from a laughfest to dripping with anticipation. I could barely breathe, but not because I was laughing anymore. No, my heart stopped as his eyes darkened and arrested my movements. I was caught in the smoldering heat building up in the small space. I put my other hand over his hand and that same spark from our first night together popped and tingled.

Just a few inches away, and I could touch his lips. Feel that softness turn to molten heat as his mouth covered mine. Some brave part of my brain—I wasn’t sure whether I’d be thanking it or cursing it later—moved my body those precious inches. And I was right there.

Dixon’s breath caught and puffed out over my mouth. Then, that gentle pressure of his lips on mine had me forgetting everything but him. No work, no family, no Mark, no silly nicknames or horrible songs...just the feel of his lips, the tip of his tongue looking to dance with mine. He pulled me closer with one hand; the other wrapped around my neck, caressing the side and holding me in place. What started as a gentle kiss morphed into a more demanding, more intense...claiming.

My hands fought their way free and landed on his shoulders, trying to pull him closer...or trying to press myself against his hard chest. He tunneled his fingers into my hair, as he plumbed the depths of my mouth with his tongue. All I could do was respond in kind in a manic attempt to meld my body with his—whether that was our mouths and tongues or by eliminating any space between our bodies.

His mouth left mine, but he wasn’t done.

He licked, nibbled, bit, and sucked at my neck. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this.” His murmured words heated my blood as his actions had my heart hammering so hard, it was a wonder he couldn’t hear it. “Oh, Cora.” He swept my lips with another kiss before pulling back to look at my face.

I was torn between staring into his eyes and feeling his lips—and his body—pressed against mine. In an uncharacteristic move, I left my side of the cab and moved toward Dixon. I turned my body so I could straddle his lap, and he moved the seat back to make some extra room. My hands wound around his neck and I leaned in to kiss him again. A moan slipped out—but I couldn’t tell whether it was me or him.

Dixon slid his hands to my ass and held on. “God, Cora.”

I moved my hips and rubbed against him like a cat in heat. That was a good description of what I was feeling. All rational thought left my head as my pussy moved over his jean-covered but hardening cock. A few more minutes of that, combined with his lips on my neck, and I was sure I would explode.

“You are so amazing, Cora.”

The whispered words in my ear sent shivers down my spine.

Then, without warning, he held my hips still, not allowing any movement.

“God. We’ve got to stop, Cora. I’m—I—oh God, this is not what I imagined when I thought about us together.”

Dixon’s words stopped any movement I was trying to keep going. “You thought about us together?” My heart jumped into my throat.

“Well, yeah. But dry-humping in broad daylight in front of my brother’s bar, when anyone could come up and see us, was not exactly part of my scenario for getting to know you.”

“I guess you have a point. It’s not exactly...umm...appropriate behavior for a second date either, huh?” I climbed off his lap and sat back on my side of the cab. I pressed my hands against my cheeks.

“God, Cora. I don’t want ‘appropriate behavior’ with you. But I thought—I hoped—our first time together would be something other than a quickie in a parking lot. Something romantic, or exotic, or heart-stopping—just like you.” Dixon leaned over and his lips met mine in a passionate kiss, stoking the fire once again. “I want you—but I can wait for the right moment. And I’m thinking this isn’t quite it. Not yet, anyway.” He positioned himself a short distance away, but still within reach.

I brushed his hand with my fingertips and looked into his eyes. Desire and heat glowed there, and sincerity radiated in his voice. “Okay. Sounds like a third date is totally in order. I’ve got a busy week, but I could meet you at Jake’s on Thursday. Sound good?”

“Thursday? Yeah, that’s fine. Around seven?” He fiddled with my fingers and grasped my hand, twining our fingers together.

I could only nod as he pulled my hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. So much for no entanglements.

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“OH MY GOD. YOU TOTALLY should have done it with him!” Wendy sat at the small kitchenette table later that night, staring at me.

“Wendy, I am so not the kind of girl to have sex in public! That’s you—remember? What was his name? Ken? Kurt? Anyway, it’s better that he put the brakes on things. I’m not looking for a relationship, remember? I haven’t figured out how to get Mark to leave me alone, and I’ve got Dad to deal with, too. I don’t think he’d be super thrilled to find out that not only I am not going to marry Mark, and not stay at Stetson Suites, and open my own B&B, but that I’m dating a construction worker. He might not be as snobby as Mark and his parents, but he’s still got that kind of attitude.” I brought over the teapot and filled our mugs with the steaming liquid.

“Maybe he’ll be happy when you’re happy. And if that means dumping Mark for Dixon and working toward your own career goals and not his—” Wendy stopped and laughed. “Yeah, right. That’ll never happen. But seriously, you could have gone up to Dixon’s place and then got it on. No reason to stop the action, my friend. Gotta take those opportunities when they show up—never count on second chances when it comes to amazing sex. And it sounds like it’d be amazing.” She blew on the tea and waved her hand over the mug.

It was the right thing to do—stopping before we’d crossed that line—but God, I was seriously bummed about it. I don’t think I’d ever felt like that before. I would have done anything he asked to keep experiencing that soaring feeling as our bodies moved together. The thought of getting naked with Dixon had my panties getting wet and my heart stuttering over itself. The anticipation high made my pulse race, right along with my imagination.

Wendy drilled her gaze at me. “So, what’s the plan? I mean, after you hook up with Mr. Hot Guy. Is he going to be a night to remember fondly as you forge forward with your life plan? Or are you daydreaming about something serious with him?” She sipped from her mug, awaiting my answer.

“How do I know? I’m swimming in all these feelings and I can’t tell up from down. Sometimes it feels like I’ve got so much going on, but really, most of it is just in my head. I haven’t done much to move my plans forward. It’s less than a year before my inheritance goes through, and then I can get going on the B&B, but I need to get this Mark thing taken care of. It doesn’t matter whether or not it gets serious with Dixon...it’s not going to happen with Mark, no matter what he or my father thinks.” My hands warmed from the mug, and I glanced at the tea. “Yeah, I could see Dixon in my future...but whether it’s more than a fling, who knows.” My hushed words filled the room.

“Well then, get your ass in gear, girl. Time to lay down the law with your father and Mark. If you want something, you have to take it...or in this case, quit taking their assumptions about your future as fact. Time to pull up those big-girl panties...and then drop them for Mr. Hot Guy.” Wendy let out a whoop and motioned as if she were cracking a whip.

Wendy’s antics had me smiling in response. And daydreaming about dropping my panties for a certain construction worker with a piercing blue gaze and a heart of gold.