Muffin Top (Page 46)

“I just acted as your eye candy.”

Did that sound defensive or humble? He wasn’t sure which one he meant it to sound like. The truth of it was that he was done being the good-time guy, and the worst thing would be for Lucy to think of him that way.

“Eye candy?” Lucy asked, shaking her head. “You were a lot more than that.”

“And when we get home?”

Fuck. He didn’t mean to ask that question—not here, at least—and judging by the guarded expression on Lucy’s usually open face, she wished he hadn’t, too. He wasn’t sure exactly what to say next, so he just stared into her soft brown eyes. But he couldn’t shake the itchy sense of impending doom he’d learned to listen to the first time he’d stepped foot into a house on fire. If a firefighter didn’t listen to that sixth sense, the chances of coming out crispy went up exponentially.

“Being here this week, this isn’t real life,” she said, her voice so soft he had to lower his head to hear her more clearly. “It’s a little cocoon.”

True, but he wasn’t ready to give into that just yet, tingly sense of danger or not. “And what do you think will be different back in Waterbury?”

Before she could answer, the music changed to a fast song from years ago and people streamed onto the dance floor. For a second, they just stood there, staring at each other, the full weight of future possibilities pressing down against them. Then, Lucy gave a practiced smile that she’d probably used a thousand times to defuse tense situations in her office.

“A lack of potato sack races.” She grinned, then pulled him into a circle of people dancing along with the fast beat.

It was a good move—defensive without being obvious—but Frankie knew what she was doing and he wasn’t having it. There was more between them than just picnic games and hot sex.

All he needed to do was persuade her that this was more than just a temporary good time.

Chapter Seventeen

An hour later, Frankie was white-knuckling Scarlett’s steering wheel. There was dark, and then there was country backroads dark. He couldn’t see a damn thing except the little bit of road Scarlett’s headlights illuminated, a million stars, and Lucy next to him in the front seat. She was still wearing that sexy-as-all-get-out red dress that wrapped around her like a promise and a tease—oh, and a makeshift blindfold he’d made from the Antioch High School Queen sash she’d gotten along with the crown on her head.

“You know, I wouldn’t do this for just anyone,” she said.

The “this” being getting in his car without knowing—or being able to see—where they were going. It was a definite sign of trust from a woman so used to fighting her battles alone, one that he took as a very good sign for the trip back home tomorrow.

“It was my kick-ass singing abilities, wasn’t it?” he asked, turning left onto a narrow dark driveway after passing a small wooden sign that read Laughlin Hotel.

Lucy chuckled. “You’re horrible and you know it.”

“True.” He reached out and laid his palm on her thigh, watching out of the corner of his eye as she bit her bottom lip. “But luckily I have other talents.”

“And those include driving blindfolded women around in the middle of the night?”

The words may have been flippant, but her tone was all sexy kitten and he was so down for that. Fuck. He was beyond down, he was uncomfortably up for it. For her. Always. So, he let out a sigh of relief when the boutique luxury hotel hidden away in the woods like some kind of fairy castle appeared at the end of the long driveway. It was four stories tall and built to look like a castle. Booking the tower room had made his credit card cry, but it was going to be worth it.

He parked Scarlett in one of the few available spots, cut the engine, and undid his seatbelt. Then, he leaned across and untied the sash around Lucy’s eyes. “We’re here.”

She blinked a few times, then looked around. Two beats after her gaze found the Laughlin Hotel, she turned to him a little slack-jawed with surprise and her eyes alight with glee.

“How in the world did you get a room here?” she asked, letting out a little mewl of approval. “They are booked for years in advance.”

Yep, that was exactly the reaction he was hoping for. Calling in his chips with his sister had been worth it.

“Felicia,” he said and got out of the car.

Lucy was out of Scarlett before he could make it around to open her door. “More, please.”

Taking her hand in his, he walked with her around to the trunk, where he’d stored an overnight bag he’d sweet-talked her into packing by saying they might want to change into something more comfortable after the dance for a trip back out to the lake.

“Well, her fiancé’s family has enough money and pull to help me get in at the last minute.” He popped the trunk and grabbed both of their bags before closing it. “Felicia did owe me a favor, and I called it in.”

“For what?” Lucy asked as they headed toward the front door. “Saving that crazy cat of hers from a tree?”

“Hell no. If Honeypot got stuck, I’d leave the feral animal there.” Okay, he wouldn’t, but Felicia did have one of the meanest cats ever to cat. “I helped her pick out a dress to wear.”

She pulled him to a stop outside of the hotel’s massive oak doors. “You were your sister’s wingwoman?”

Out of habit, he looked around to make sure no one overheard that little bit. “If you ever tell, I’ll deny it.”

She raised herself up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing that luscious mouth of hers millimeters within kissing distance. If he hadn’t been holding both of their overnight bags, he would have had his hands on that round ass of hers and tugged her close so he could feel every inch of her.

Just a little taste, that’s all he wanted—at least until he got her up into that room.

“Like everyone doesn’t already know you’re a giant softie,” Lucy said.

“Not all the time.”

She lowered one arm and brought it between them and let her fingers graze over his dick. “And thank God for that.”

It might have just killed him a little, but he managed to hold onto his control and not drag Lucy to the closest horizontal surface. Instead, they walked into the opulent hotel reception area. All Frankie had to do at check-in was show his driver’s license and leave a credit card number for incidentals—and it still took too long. He needed to get Lucy into that room.

They couldn’t get to the elevator fast enough for him, but as soon as the doors slid shut he dropped the bags and had her pressed against the wall. Four floors wasn’t enough time to do much, but he still managed to get his hands under her skirt, skating up the outside of her thighs and over her full hips as he took her mouth, hard and with more than a little bit of a desperate edge.

Her nimble fingers were starting to work his suit pants button free when the elevator dinged and the doors opened to reveal a small foyer with two doors at the opposite end.

How he managed to tear his mouth away from hers before the door closed on them again, he had no fucking clue. All he knew was one moment he was inches away from touching the softest, wettest piece of heaven, and the next he had Lucy in his arms, holding the suitcases awkwardly in one hand, and was striding toward that lone door—which was the next obstacle to getting her naked.