Lars was leaning up against the doorframe, oozing so much raw masculinity she almost rolled her eyes. “Aw, come on. Really?”
It was ridiculous that he was this hot. She looked him up and down slowly, with unapologetic candor, finally meeting his eyes with a grin. Your bed, Cowboy. Later.
He smiled back at her, flashing straight white teeth, the tan skin crinkling around his Arctic-blue eyes. He was wearing cowboy boots and jeans again, of course, but instead of his regular polo shirt that he wore for work, he had on a grey t-shirt under a long-sleeved, button-down shirt in a navy and grey plaid, which was open, unbuttoned. Over that, he wore a weathered, tan, canvas barn jacket with a dark brown leather collar that just grazed his neck, and a tan cowboy hat over his silvery-blond hair.
“Seriously?”
“What?” he asked, turning slightly to place his hands on the frame over her door and hang there innocently, extending his arms and flexing his chest muscles in front of her, blocking the entire doorway with his body and grinning back at her.
He was so adorable, she chuckled.
“Look at you, all proud of yourself.”
“What do they say? If you’ve got it, flaunt it?”
“Oh! And so modest!”
He lowered his arms, crossing them, his eyes twinkling. “I’m just teasin’.”
“I’ve only seen you in work clothes. In your polo shirts.”
“Yeah, this is more…me.”
She shook her head, wishing she could compose herself. He looked like the cover model for a “sexy cowboy” shoot. All he was missing was a lasso over his shoulder and a horse in the background.
“Well…it works.”
“Does it?”
She stepped forward until she was almost touching him then raised her eyes to his face.
“Yeah.” She placed her palms on his grey t-shirt and his muscles flexed under her hands. “We’re never going to make it to the grizzlies at this rate.”
“Screw the grizzlies,” he growled.
He held her eyes as he put his hand on her neck, his fingers resting on the hairs at the nape of her neck, his thumb brushing her cheek in front of her ear softly. As he pulled her gently toward him, she rose up on tiptoes to meet him, closing her eyes as his lips touched hers. She moaned against the heat, the jolt, the swirling inside, fingers curling on his chest. He adjusted and readjusted his lips until they were molded full and flush to hers, slightly parted, moving rhythmically.
His free arm encircled her, his other hand moving against the contours of her neck, kneading the warm skin there, the rough pads of his fingertips gently grazing her hot, eager skin and delivering a sharp sweetness that made the muscles in her back flex, arching her into his body. Finally his lips moved from her mouth, grazing her cheek to her ear as she leaned into him, surrounded by his smell, his taste, the urgent sound of his breathing as his teeth tugged gently on her earlobe.
She gasped an ahhhh sound which ended in a moan from the back of her throat, surprised by the sharpness of his teeth and the way her insides turned to jelly at the unexpected bite. She leaned her neck to the side and his hat fell to the floor as his forehead finally rested under her ear, on her pulse, bowed in supplication or prayer, or just…heaven.
His chest moved rapidly under her fingers, she could feel the insistent thumping of his heart. She slowly opened her eyes, raising her hands to his face, and gently pushed him back, away from her neck so that she could read his eyes.
He didn’t smile at her. He looked at her, and she read vulnerable and overwhelmed on his face, all signs of cocky teasing gone. The fierce tenderness in his eyes had to be a mirror of her own. She had a name for her own feelings, and last night he’d given the same name to his. They were falling in love with each other, and it was too soon and too much and it should be impossible after knowing one another for only a week, but staring back at his face, into his beautiful blue eyes, she knew that it was happening and there was nothing—nothing—that either of them could do about it now.
“Jane…” he murmured, the sound of her name on his lips imbued with hunger, with tenderness, with longing.
And that was the moment she realized it; she trusted him. No man looked at a woman like that if there was room in his heart for any other woman. Her heart was safe with him.
She pulled his head back down and pressed her lips to his, sweeping her tongue over the seam of his lips until they opened for her. He wrapped his arms around her again, his hands curling into fists against the suede that covered her lower back, pushing her closer and closer to him, as if she could never be close enough. Her fingers played with the short blond hair behind his ears and she felt him shiver, heard a strangled groan released from his throat, felt the evidence of his arousal increasingly unmistakable against her belly.
If they didn’t stop now, they were going to end up on her bed in a matter of minutes.
She turned her head gently away from him, positioning his forehead against hers, eyes closed, trying to catch her breath. She could smell coffee light on his breath, just as she had tasted it a moment ago.
“Grizzliesssss,” she breathed, wetting her lips and smiling as she opened her eyes.
He leaned back from her, grinning. “Damn, Jane. Every word with that voice. I could listen to you all day.”
“Grizzliesssss,” she said, again, trying for lower and breathier, but couldn’t pull it off because she started giggling. “And good, ’cause that’s the plan.”
“You’re goofy this morning.”
“I’m happy this morning,” she answered, readjusting the bag on her shoulder, and straightening the sunglasses that threatened to slip off her head after so much kissing.
“Is that so?” He leaned down to pick up his hat and backed out of the doorway, watching as she pulled the door shut behind her.
Jane thought of last night and this morning and today and tomorrow…
“That’s so.”
***
Lars wasn’t sure how she’d feel about him making her a mix CD like a high school crush, but if the look on her face was any indication, the hours of work it had taken to put his favorite 60s songs on a CD and print a picture of grizzlies for the inside cover of the jewel case were well worth the effort.
“You made me a mix? When did you have time? It’s like we’re going steady, Just-Lars!” Always a little sassy, but he could tell she was pleased as her cheeks colored pink and she touched the picture gingerly with her fingertips, and it made him feel awesome.
“Tuesday night. After you broke things off. I was feeling sad.”
“So you did something nice for me?” She tilted her head, smiling at him tenderly.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Jane. I had to do something.”
She took the CD out of its case and slipped it into the player.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d want to listen to, so I put some of my favorites on…we’ll see what you think.”
As the familiar strains of the Del-Viking’s “Come Go With Me” filled the cab, Jane turned to him and beamed.
He’d done well.
She started singing along softly, legs crossed toward him, occasionally looking at him with that sweet smile, bright green eyes taking in the scenery as they flew under the Roosevelt Arch into the park as he’d done a thousand times before.