Midsummer Madness. Christine Rimmer
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pajama top along, until he was rubbing the bare skin of her waist beneath the top.
Oh, it was heaven. How on earth could she have lived for thirty whole years and known next to nothing of this heady bliss? It was better than anything. Better than ice cream on a sweltering day, better than hot cocoa of a cold winter’s night. Better than— Oh, Lord, yes, it was true—better than driving her red car, or running Midsummer Madness for the first time in her life!
This was Midsummer Madness. Incredible. Divine.
Cody’s warm, big hand slid up her waist—and, light as a breath, skimmed the nipple of her left breast.
“Oh, my goodness!” Juliet gasped.
His hand repeated the action. Juliet gasped again. And then—
He pulled away.
Juliet, who realized her eyes were dreamily closed, opened them. She looked into Cody’s eyes, which were heavy-lidded and full of sensual promise. “I said, ‘oh, my goodness,’” she pointed out. “I didn’t say stop.”
Juliet found she didn’t regret her bold words when, for a moment, it looked as if he might resume where he’d left off—lower his mouth to where she could get at it, and start doing those lovely things with his hand again.
But the moment stretched out too long, and she had to admit that his expression had rearranged itself; he was now looking more stern than aroused.
Gently he guided her to a sitting position once more and handed her the belt to her robe, which had somehow ended up wrapped around his neck.
He said, “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Juliet, attempting to take things in stride, decided to be grateful for what she got. “I know,” she replied, “but I surely do thank you anyway, Cody McIntyre.”
Cody frowned at that. “Don’t thank me,” he said, rather harshly, she thought.
“But I—”
He cut her off. “Let it go.” Then he relented a little. “I went too far. I’m sorry.”
“You did?” She thought about that. “I don’t know. Isn’t…what you did natural? I didn’t ask you to stop.”
“Damn it, Julie. You’re a virgin.”
Juliet’s face flamed at the blunt way he said that. She turned away.
“Well, aren’t you?” he demanded.
She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, but she managed to nod.
He swore again. “That’s what I mean. You don’t know what the hell you’re doing. And damn it, neither do I. I don’t take advantage of virgins.”
Juliet wished she could crawl under the porch. Her ears were on fire from hearing Cody talk so bluntly about her lack of experience. She almost lurched to her feet and ran across the lawn for home. But then she decided that one of the reasons she was still a virgin at thirty was a distinct lack of nerve. She’d never really get to experience life if she always backed down. So she forced herself to stay put and dared to speak. “Well, um, then,” she began somewhat wiltingly. She drew in a bracing breath and went on with more gumption, “If you don’t take advantage of virgins, then why did you kiss me?”
He granted her another long look. Then he muttered with feeling, “Hell, Julie….”
She stared right back at him. “’Hell, Julie,’ is not an answer.”
“Damn it….”
“Neither is ‘damn it.’”
“Look, I didn’t mean it to go so far—I didn’t mean it to go anywhere.”
Juliet felt a sad little sinking feeling in her heart when he said that, but she went ahead with her next question anyway. “Well, what did you mean, then?”
“I don’t know,” he said, finger-combing his hair and shifting on the step. “I couldn’t sleep. I came out here to play myself a lullaby. And then you came, trying to sneak up on me. It was like a game, and I started playing. I wanted to kiss you, so I did kiss you. And it went further than it should have.”
Juliet, absorbed in her own confusions, didn’t fully realize what a rough time Cody was having. He was both frustrated in his desire, and disgusted at himself for toying with an innocent. Partly in an effort to get his bearings—and also in an attempt to hide the evidence that his lust still wasn’t exactly under control—Cody slid even farther away from her on the step until he was practically wrapped around the big post that supported the porch roof.
Juliet noted his withdrawal, and thought regretfully of the delicious caress of his hand on her breast—a caress she was becoming more and more certain she would never experience again. She forced herself to take a long, hard look at the situation—and to recall that a man like Cody McIntyre was not a man for her.
She said, a little sadly but very firmly, “You’re right.” She solemnly nodded. “We went too far.”
Cody listened with only half his attention; he was still pondering the prospect of trying to stand up without embarrassing himself.
Juliet rebelted her robe and tied it with a no-nonsense tug. “We’ll just have to forget this ever happened, okay?” She rearranged the robe to cover her knees. “A gorgeous man like you is nothing but trouble for a plain woman like me.”
Forgetting the problem with his jeans, Cody whipped his head around to face her again, ready to inform her that looks do not make the man—and to add, for her information, that he didn’t find her plain at all. Lately.
But she prattled on before he could get a word in. “You’ve been good to me over the years. You always stood up for me when Billy Butley used to pick on me back in school, and you were my first client when I opened my service. I’ll always like you. A lot. But I don’t want to get mixed up with you. I’d only get my heart broken, and that’s a simple fact.”
“Now wait a minute—”
“No. You wait. Cody, the women are always after you. And one of these days, one of them would be sure to tempt you right away from me.”
Cody stared at her. He had half a mind to point out to her just how wrong she was. He could use his father as an example. From the time he met Cody’s mother, Wayne McIntyre had never so much as looked at another woman. Cody’s grandfather, Yancy, had been the same way. Cody came from a long line of truehearted men. No other woman could tempt him away from the woman he’d chosen for his own….
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