The Texan's One-Night Standoff. Charlene Sands
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country Christmas ballad piped in through the speakers surrounding the room. “Would you like to dance?” he asked.
She smiled sweetly, the kind of smile that suggested softness. And he would’ve believed that if he hadn’t seen her just deck a man. A big man.
Her head tilted to the left, and she gauged him thoughtfully.
He was still standing, so that was a plus. She didn’t find him out of line.
“Sure. I’d like that, Galahad.”
“It’s Brooks.”
“Ruby.”
She led him to the dance floor and he took over from there, placing his hand on the small of her back, enfolding her other hand in his. Small and delicate to big and rough. But it worked. And how, did it work.
He began to move, holding her at arm’s length, breathing her in as they glided across the dance floor.
“I thought you were in trouble back there,” he said.
“I gathered.”
“Are you a black belt or something?”
“Nope, just grew up around men and learned early on how to take care of myself. What about you? Do you have a knight in shining armor complex or something?”
He laughed. “Where I come from, a man doesn’t stand by and watch someone abuse a lady.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Apparently I was the only other guy in the place who didn’t know you could handle yourself.”
She was looking at him now, piercing him with those cocoa eyes and giving him that megawatt smile. “It was sorta sweet, you coming to my rescue.” Was she flirting? Man, oh man. If she was, he wasn’t going to stop her.
“I was watching you, like every other guy at the bar.”
“I like to play pool. I’m good at it,” she said, shrugging a shoulder. “It’s a great way to blow off steam.”
“That’s exactly why I stopped into the bar myself. I needed to do the same.”
“You get brownie points for not saying the obvious.”
“Which is?”
Her lips twitched and she hesitated for a second, as if trying to decide whether to tell him or not. “That you know a better way to blow off steam.”
Her raven brows rose, and he stopped dancing for a second to study her. “You must drive men wild with your mouth.”
She shook her head, grinning. “You’re sinking, Brooks. Going under fast.”
“I was talking about your sass.”
She knew. She was messing with him. “Most men hate it.”
“Not me. It’s refreshing.”
He brought her closer, so that the tips of her breasts grazed his shirt and the scent of her hair tickled his nostrils. She didn’t flip him over her shoulder with that move. She cuddled up closer. “So far, I have two brownie points,” he said. “What can I do to earn another?”
Her gaze drifted to his mouth with pinpoint accuracy. Air left his chest. A deep hunger, like none he’d experienced before, gnawed into his belly.
“You’ll think of something, Galahad.”
* * *
The stranger’s lips touched hers, a brief exploration that warmed up her insides and made her question everything she’d done since setting eyes on this guy. Usually she wasn’t this brazen with men. She didn’t flirt and plant ideas in their heads. But there was something about Brooks that called to her. He had manners. And he knew how to speak to a woman. He seemed familiar and safe in a way, even though they’d never met before. He wasn’t hard on the eyes either, with all that blond hair, thick and wavy and catching the collar of his zillion-dollar shirt. He was as citified as they came, even if he wore slick boots and sported five-o’clock stubble. As soon as she’d spotted him at the bar, she knew he didn’t belong. Not here, in a dusty small town out in the middle of nowhere. Cool Springs wasn’t exactly a mecca of high society, and this guy was that and then some. His coming to her rescue, all granite muscles and fists ready to pummel, was about the nicest thing a man had done for her in a long while.
Trace came to mind, and she immediately washed his image from her head. She wasn’t going to think about her breakup with him. He was six months long gone, and she’d wasted enough time on him.
Instead she wrapped her arms around Brooks’s neck and clung to him, her body sizzling from the heat surrounding them. He began to move again, slower, closer, his scent something expensive and tasteful. Her nerves were raw. Something was happening to her. Something unexpected and thrilling. Her life was too predictable lately, and it was time to change that.
His mouth found hers again, and this time the kiss was hot enough to brand cattle. A fiery mix of passion and lust, making her forget she didn’t kiss strangers like this, on an open dance floor with half the town watching. But Brooks didn’t let up, and she couldn’t pull back or move away. It was that good.
She played with the curling ends of his hair.
He slid his hands lower on her back.
She tucked herself into him.
He groaned and kissed her harder.
The music ended and she hardly noticed.
She stared into his blue eyes.
He gave her a smile.
Her body was shaking.
He was trembling, too.
“What now?” he rasped. “You want another dance?”
She shook her head. “I need air.”
He took her hand and led her off the dance floor and out the door of the C’mon Inn. Clouds shadowed half the full moon, and the bite of December air should’ve cooled her down. But Brooks kept her close to his side, his body shielding her from the cold. Any shivering she was doing was caused by the man beside her and not the dropping winter temperature. He led her around back, where a bench made of iron and wood sat unoccupied near a walled garden. “Would you like to sit?” he asked, and before she could answer, he took a seat and reached for her, giving her the option of where on the bench she wanted to plop down. She chose his lap.
His satisfied smile was her reward, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re beautiful, Ruby. You probably hear that all the time.” His hand grazed her neck as he held her hair back to nibble on her throat. Then his tongue moistened her skin as he laid out a row of sensual kisses there. Her insides went a little squishy from his tender assault. Whatever this was, it was happening fast. His rock-hard erection pressing against her legs told her he was as turned on as she was.
“Not really. I tend to scare men off.” By her own choosing, she warded off men’s advances before giving them half a chance. She’d been waiting around for Trace, hoping he’d come back to her, but that hadn’t happened. And now she found pleasure in this man’s arms. She didn’t know a thing about him, other than her instincts said he was a decent man.
“Little ole you,” he whispered softly before claiming her lips again. The taste of alcohol combined with his confidence was a sweet elixir to her recent loneliness. His mouth pressed hers harder, and the tingles under her skin bumped up another notch. “You didn’t scare me off.”
“Maybe that’s why I’m here with you.”
“I like the sound of that.” The rasp in his voice intensified.
They stopped talking long enough to work up a sweat. Sharp and quick tingles ran up and down her body, and her breaths came in short bursts. She was aware of him at every turn. His well-placed touches made her tremble. His kisses swamped her in heat. Brooks