Rolling Like Thunder. Vicki Thompson Lewis
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or not, we might be actually doing it. More or less. Sort of.”
“We might.” She smiled as she gazed up at him. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve had so much fun.”
“You know what? Me, either.” He wanted to tell her that she was the most beautiful woman in the world, but instead he twirled her around one more time and the music ended.
Jack came by and leaned toward them. “Good job. Now let’s eat.”
The food, as Josie had mentioned, was excellent. Finn noted that the pub fries were better than what he served at O’Roarke’s. Humbling, because he was proud of his establishment’s pub fries, but this little saloon in Wyoming did them better.
After dinner everyone danced some more. Jack suggested that he partner Chelsea while Josie partnered Finn. Finn improved a lot while dancing with Josie, but he was grateful once Chelsea was back in his arms.
He was comforted knowing that she wasn’t any more accomplished than he was, but that wasn’t the only reason he liked dancing with her. He’d discovered how much he loved holding her.
She felt so right cradled in his arms. He should have guessed that she would. The warmth in her eyes told him she felt the same way. This trip was designed to deliver a Hail Mary pass that would clinch the Kickstarter project and save the ranch. No small potatoes, there. But already it felt as if even more was at stake.
As the evening progressed, Jack kept bringing over more O’Roarke’s Pale Ale. Finn knew his inhibitions were disappearing, and he could tell from the way Chelsea danced with him that hers were, too. He had to stay strong.
She’d made it obvious months ago that she thought they could have a lot of fun together. He completely agreed with her. But starting an affair with her had the potential to make him forget everything else. They had an important mission to accomplish this weekend, and he couldn’t let anything distract him from that.
Dancing with her was safe enough, though. They had people all around them and he still had to concentrate on his footwork so he wouldn’t step on her or run into other couples. That left him very little time to think about how soft her breasts felt or how perfectly their hips aligned thanks to her high-heeled sandals.
Then they goaded each other into attempting a very fast number. They made a mess of it, but he was proud of them for trying. When the music ended they clung to each other, laughing and gasping for breath.
Gradually he realized he could feel the rapid thump of her heart as she leaned against his chest. His palm, which was flattened against the small of her back, rotated in a slow massage. He hadn’t been conscious of doing it at first. He looked down at her and she was looking right back at him, her full lips parted as she sucked in air.
The heat of her body was nothing compared to the heat in her gaze. On cue, his groin tightened. He released her slowly and stepped back as he fought to control his reaction. He hoped she hadn’t noticed, but when the corners of her mouth tilted up a fraction, he thought she had. Maybe dancing with her wasn’t so safe, after all.
Just his luck, the party broke up after that. Pam came over to tell them she was going back to the Last Chance so she could spend the night with her husband. Breakfast would be served as usual because her housekeeper, Yvonne, was also the cook.
Several people offered Chelsea and Finn a ride back to the Bunk and Grub, but Finn suggested walking and Chelsea quickly agreed. He couldn’t speak for her, but he needed a cooling-off period before stepping into a cozy B and B where his room was right next to hers.
At least he hadn’t brought condoms. He was grateful for that as they walked through the cool night air. Fortunately the thought hadn’t crossed his mind in connection with this trip, and even if it had, he would have made sure not to have any.
“That was fun.” Chelsea’s heels clicked on the sidewalk, a sharper sound than what his boots made. “I expected to like them and I do.”
“Me, too. Great family. I have a good feeling about tomorrow. Their support could put us over the top.”
“Yep.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s kind of nippy out here.”
“Yeah.” This cooling-off period had turned out to be just plain cold. If he’d had a coat, he would have given it to her, but he didn’t, and taking off his shirt would be ridiculous. He felt the chill, too, after all that dancing in a warm room. Her blouse was flimsy compared to his cotton shirt, so she must be freezing.
From the corner of his eye he could see her struggling not to shiver. Aw, hell, he had to do something about that. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m going to put my arm around you so you won’t be cold.”
“That would b-be lovely.”
“I didn’t think about how the temperature drops at night in late August.” He kept his tone nonchalant as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and matched his stride to hers. “Warm during the day and frosty at night.”
“S-so I see.” Nestling against him, she slid her arm around his waist. “Thanks.”
And he was no longer cold. She fit against his side and synchronized her steps to his as if they’d walked this way hundreds of times. He tightened his grip on her warm, firm shoulder and imagined touching her warm, firm skin.
Oh, God, now he was thinking of what else they could do that would be effortless. Kissing, for example. And then sliding out of their clothes and into a bed, either his or hers. The more turned on he became the faster he walked. He didn’t realize it until he heard their labored breathing.
He slowed down. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to start race-walking.”
“That’s okay.” There was a hint of laughter in her voice. “Good way to warm up.”
He could think of another good way. In fact, that seemed to be the only thing he could think about.
She stopped making conversation and so did he. No telling what would come out of his mouth in his current state.
Her scent teased him with possibilities. Her hair swung as they walked, brushing his shoulder. He wanted to thread his fingers through those silky strands, cup the back of her head and finally taste the lips he’d stared at for years. Years, damn it!
Instead of kissing her, he let her go when they reached the B and B’s porch steps so he could dig out his keys. As it turned out, she got to hers first and opened the front door.
He followed her into the silent entry. A trace of cinnamon hung in the warm air and a Tiffany-style lamp glowed in the parlor. Etched-crystal sconces along the stairway created an intriguing mix of light and shadow. He remembered they were alone on the second floor of the house. No other guests.
Chelsea started up the carpeted steps and he followed, keeping a safe distance behind her. No, there wasn’t such a thing as a safe distance. He watched hungrily as her snug jeans lovingly stretched over her backside as she climbed. Even though he’d slowed his pace, his heart thumped as if they’d run the whole way.
Rational thought drifted away as insanity gripped him. Her hand on the polished railing made him think of her hand on his cock. The lack of condoms was no longer a lucky circumstance that would keep him from doing something stupid. It was a damned inconvenience standing between him and paradise.
Neither of his best friends would have been caught in this situation. Yet here he was, aching for someone who would probably welcome him into her bed if he gave the slightest indication that he wanted to be there, and he was condomless.
Pausing at her door, she inserted the key in the lock. His fevered brain attached a sexual connotation to that, too.
But there would be no inserting anything because he was without those little raincoats.
She glanced at him as he approached her. Her face was in shadow, her expression hidden. “See you in the morning.” Twisting the key, she opened her door and started through