“Over the years, I’ve worked a lot of odd jobs and picked up whatever I could to help pay the bills until I bought my own business.” Tank winked at her. “It’s a little different from going to Paris for culinary school.”
“Yeah.” Lena hesitated. “My life was a little different.” Her chest tightened, and she took a deep breath, clutching her fists in her lap.
“Where did you grow up?”
“San Francisco. My parents and I used to come here on vacation. We’d rent a bungalow on the beach for a month or so.” Memories of her father building sand castles flitted through her mind. “It was fun times.”
“Are both your parents still together?”
“Were. Past tense.”
A moment of silence enveloped them, and Tank shifted in his chair. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
She looked at their mostly finished food and noticed the empty tables and chairs as the remaining night staff started bussing and cleaning up the place. There wasn’t another customer in sight. Their waitress was inside, leaning up against the bar, apparently flirting with another server, her phone out in her hand.
“I think we’ve overstayed our welcome.” A weak laugh escaped her lips. “I know my staff and I hate it when we’re dead tired and want to go home, but customers keep sticking around.” She checked the time on her phone. “I really didn’t think we were talking for that long.”
“Me neither. I rarely talk this much.” Tank rose from his chair and pulled hers out, offering his hand. “I’ll get the check, and then we can take a walk on the beach.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
As she rested her palm in his, she was struck by the sizzle of physical awareness that jolted through her from the simple contact.
Squeezing her hand, he walked over to their server to pay the bill. As much as her feminist side hated to admit it, she liked it when Tank took charge.
“And what if I wanted to pay my half?” she asked as he walked back across the deck toward her, stuffing his wallet into his pocket.
“I wouldn’t have let you.”
And that was the end of that.
Tank’s intense gaze pinned her to the spot. Easing his hand behind her head, he cupped her neck and took her lips.
Tank
When Tank pulled away, they were both panting. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d made out like that. Probably not since he was under the bleachers in junior high school.
Lena did something to him, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what it was. The smell of her hair, the taste of her lips, the feel of her skin… it all seemed to have gotten inside of him, or into the air all around him. The connection he felt to her went deeper than just attraction. It was something intense—a strong pull to someone he didn’t know.
Her fingers curled into his biceps. “That was amazing,” she whispered against his lips, “but we should take it down a notch before we both wind up naked in public and hauled in on indecent exposure charges.”
“It’d be worth it,” he said, squeezing her tightly. More than once, he’d imagined her back arching as he slammed into her. She’d wrap those long, sexy legs around his waist, then he’d flip her over, smack her sweet ass, and pummel her while pulling her long, silky hair. Just the other night, he jerked off as he imagined himself tasting every single inch of her flesh with his mouth.
“Are you okay?” Lena asked. “You’re… growling.”
Clearing his throat, he abruptly dropped his hands from her waist. “Yeah. Never been better.” He held out his hand and pivoted. “Let’s go for that walk.”
She didn’t take it. “Actually, it’s getting late. I need to be at work early in the morning.”
She’s pulling away. Tank ran one hand over the side of his face. Lena affected him more than he liked or wanted to deal with. Fuck. What the hell’s going on with me? He wasn’t used to feeling anything but lust for a woman. After his ex-wife took off with another man, Tank’s heart hardened, and he shut himself off from caring. In his mind, women couldn’t be trusted, even the ones who swore they would never hurt him. Life had been just fine with the club girls and the citizens he’d take to his bed— no strings attached, and no betrayals. Then she came along, and he didn’t know what the fuck was happening to him.
Lena laughed softly. “You look like you’re a million miles away.”
“No. Something got into my head just now.”
“I know how that goes. I hope you understand about me having to leave.”
“Yeah, sure. No problem.” He breathed out slowly. “I’ll drive you back to the bar.” He continued to hold out his hand, and this time, her fingers slid easily into his with little hesitation.
He led them toward the parking lot without a word. The whole time he could tell she was fighting with herself on whether or not to say anything else. She didn’t need to say a damn thing on his account. He could more than handle it. He was a big boy.
“Keys?”
She tossed them to him as he led her to the passenger side of the SUV.
“You didn’t even ask permission, you know,” She teased as she slid into the car, “to drive me back to the bar and to your mystery ride.”
“You would stop me if it made you uncomfortable.”
“How do you know that?”
“You’ve made your position very clear from the get-go, darlin’. At the engagement party, you took no prisoners.” He counted off on his fingers as he listed their various encounters. “When you saw me at the print shop. Tonight. We’re keeping this at a casual level. You’re nothing if not a wholesome dose of honesty, which I can appreciate. But, if it’ll make you feel better, is it okay if I drive your SUV?”
As if there was another option, she made him wait for it. While he leaned over her in the vehicle, she acted like she was thinking, taking her time.
“Any day now. It’s getting late.” He faked a yawn to make his point, and split into a grin when she hit him playfully in the side. “I might get too tired to do a damn thing, and then we’d be stuck here.”
“I’m still able-bodied, and I can still drive my own car. So no, we wouldn’t be stuck.”
“See? Calling me on my bullshit. Now let’s get going.”
Through the entire ride back to the bar, she didn’t take her hand back. But when he pulled into the back parking lot and cut the engine, she squeezed once and pulled away. No big deal. She was clearly wrestling with shit. And to be honest, so was he. He looked back at her again. She had her head down, her warm, chestnut eyes looking up at him through thick lashes. A small, shy smile curved her lips.
Fuck. It was like his heart stopped beating for a second.
His fingers flexed on the steering wheel. He sure as hell needed to say something, but there wasn’t a damn thing in his head. Instead, he eased back in the seat, slipped the keys out of the ignition, and dangled them across the console.
She took them from his hand, and he heard the small hitch in her breathing as their hands touched.