Waiting For A Girl Like You Part 11

We moved at a snail's pace blocked in by hotel shuttle busses, yet my body could be floating deep in blue-green water clear enough to see forever. The Abbie effect. I caught my reflection in the winds.h.i.+eld, a surf rat in need of a haircut and a shave. I'd seen my face a thousand times but not really seen me, not through Abbie's eyes.

Steering toward Departures, the truth was I was in a car with a woman I'd met two days ago. On the surface, the average man would call this a hot fling, yet somewhere between h.e.l.lo and last night we'd blown past the surface. She was soft heart and iron spine. I'd changed because of Abbie. It'd be impossible not to.

Best of all she was comfortable in life's ambiguous places. I was falling for her. f.u.c.k. Two days and I was falling for her.

What would happen if Abbie gave me a lifetime?

I pulled up to the curb, switched to parking lights, and left the motor running. I reached over and stroked her thigh. Florescent lights outside tinged Abbie's hair white gold. Big blue-green eyes swallowed me. Open and honest. No make-up. Not even lip gloss on sh.e.l.l pink lips and she was beautiful.

"Mark?"

I swallowed hard, tracing a slow line on her jeans. I could get this right and win her. Or I could f.u.c.k this up.

I linked our hands. "Two days and you've left your mark on me."

My heart beat hard. Our music was a porter blowing his whistle and car horns in the distance. I curved one hand around her nape and pulled her close. Our foreheads touched. My free hand slipped inside her jacket, memorizing her shape. Her flat midline. The top of her ribs. Abbie rubbed her nose against mine. She whispered my name and I could hear the smile in her voice when I reach for her b.o.o.b. The weight was a comfort. f.u.c.k. Wanting a woman's curves was one thing. Touching the curves of the woman you love? It filled empty spots inside me.

"You're perfect." I plucked her nipple. "I've been waiting for a girl like you."

Abbie buried her face in my neck, her hitched breaths sweet. We huddled, safe in the dark car. With my hand in her jacket no one could see my intimate touches. We'd look the same as other couples embracing in long good-byes.

Abbie moaned against my skin as my thumb circled her aureole through her s.h.i.+rt. "What are you telling me?"

Blinding headlights blasted through the back window. A siren blipped and a loud speaker announced, "Move on."

I broke away from Abbie. "At least he didn't say 'Stop feeling her up.'"

Laughing, she jumped out and waved at the police car, calling out, "Sorry. We'll move."

The cruiser rolled past. I grabbed my black bag and hustled around to Abbie waiting on the curb. She tugged the front of my hoodie, her smile sweet and s.e.xy. "No hands. You have to talk to me with words."

Travelers moseyed past, dragging wheeled luggage. Despite the noise around us, I kept my voice intimate.

"Wait for me Abbie. I don't deserve you but I want you. For the rest of our lives."

I brushed her unruly bangs aside for a better view of her face. She was beautiful, her sparkling eyes looking straight into my soul. I resented the clothes layered between us, the crowds, and for the first time, my surf trip.

"The rest of our lives." Her arms slid around my waist. "No one's ever asked for forever."

"I am."

"I want to be with you too." She glanced at the bag I clutched in my right hand. "This trip...how long will you be gone?"

"A month. Maybe longer. I don't know. I need this break." I stroked her jaw with the back of my fingers. "Do you understand?"

"I do." Hugging my waist tighter, she pushed up on her toes and kissed my mouth -a sweet peck full of understanding. It was a gift. She was a gift. "I'll wait for you. But you'll email me? Send me pictures of Margaret River?"

I kissed her forehead, grinning without shame. "I have your work email."

"That's right. My stalker."

We held each other, our breaths in rhythm. Crowds flowed around the island we made. I memorized the scent of Abbie's hair, how her body fit against mine.

She pulled away, her eyes tender. "You'd better get going. The sooner you leave means the sooner you'll come back to me."

I traced her hairline. "I'll take you there someday, to Margaret River and a lot of other places." It was crazy. I was the one with my feet rooted in place.

"You need to do this. I don't know what's ahead, but I'm certain of one thing-us." Abbie paused, her eyes flaring as if struck by a new idea before giving me her megawatt smile. "You and I...we're an us-"

I kissed her open-mouthed us. The word reverberated inside me, gentle as a whisper, deeper than the sea, healing her, healing me.

It took me thirty-five years and two days, but I finally found us.

Anything But Safe.

By Gina Conkle.

CHAPTER ONE.

"She's mine." AJ tipped his head at the slender woman pus.h.i.+ng past the bar's dented metal door. Her strappy high heels clicked on cement, a far cry from the scuffed work boots most patrons wore. She waved down Scully, the bartender, who pointed at a payphone in the corner. She side stepped mashed fries on her way to the relic on the wall and fished for coins in her wallet.

He smiled at her eyes darting around the smoky room -he wasn't the only man giving her a predatory stare.

"That blonde? She's outta your league, man." Sean, a buddy through thick and thin, took aim on worn baize. Cue b.a.l.l.s clattered. Two made a quiet snick into a side pocket. Sean scooted around the table, eyeing his next shot.

"Yeah, I know," AJ drawled, tracking the flimsy summer dress molding to her body. Her a.s.s was a lush upside down heart. Finely curved. Two perfect handfuls.

Tonight wasn't the first time he'd seen the woman, but her surprise appearance in his favorite bar jarred him. She brought to mind gated communities and tailored lawns. Not his type. Too expensive. Yet, something about her lured him. They'd crossed paths around town. She was cla.s.sy but never uptight like other upscale women with their pursed lips and Mercedes sedans. Those same women weren't always so fussy. Plenty gave him a hungry stare when they came to his shop.

Blondie would warm up with the right touch. His wolfish grin spread with that image. Maybe a fantasy. Maybe not. Her gauzy, flesh-tone dress didn't mesh with his worn out jeans, and he didn't know her name. He'd spied Blondie three times in the last month, loading groceries into her car, buying flowers, exiting a Starbucks. She'd seen him too, staring at him behind the s.h.i.+eld of her sungla.s.ses, lips flirting in a half smile. Their game was an exciting version of hide and seek. Where would he see Blondie today? The sight of her always jolted him. It'd been a long time since he had this hot, electric feel for a woman.

Their game boiled down to one thing. He wanted her. Tonight.

He hooked a thumb in his front pocket, waiting. Men sauntered by clutching beer bottles. A lanky biker fed quarters into the juke box. Seconds pa.s.sed and a lonely guitar plucked the opening notes of Stairway to Heaven. Blondie hung up the phone and fumbled with her purse.

Come on, turn all the way around. I want to see you.

Awareness. .h.i.t her. He saw the exact moment. Her glossy red lips parted, b.r.e.a.s.t.s pointed higher, the involuntary responses a woman made to male interest. Blondie moved in a slow tight circle, searching the smoky bar. Her dark-eyed gaze touched him. A primal charge raked his skin. Black-fringed eyes widened with recognition, traveling the length of him leaning against the pool table.

"That's it. Show me some spirit," he said under his breath.

Her bravado didn't last. The woman ducked her head, beating a path to the door. She'd have to walk by him. His quarry almost sprinted through the room, a flurry of blonde hair and fluttering dress.

"h.e.l.lo." His voice vibrated low.

She stopped in her tracks. "Hi." French manicured nails dug into her purse straps. "I'm just on my way out. My car broke down and I'm waiting for a tow truck."

His face creased with a friendlier smile. "Maybe I can take a look."

She s.h.i.+fted her purse across her midsection like armor, giving him a quick once over. His blood warmed despite her skittish response. s.h.i.+t. This could be a great beginning or a colossal crash and burn.

Brown eyes squared with his. "I guess it can't hurt."

He handed off his cue stick to Sean. "We'll finish this game later."

"Sure we will." Sean balanced both sticks. "I'll see you tomorrow."

AJ tossed a twenty on the table and headed for the door. Always the gentleman, he pushed it open for her. Summer air hugged them, the heat heightening smells of newly paved asphalt road.

"I was driving back from my sister's, when all of a sudden I heard a loud clunk. The engine just died." She took a quick breath. "So, I coasted into the parking lot here, and my cell phone's not working because my nephew spilled glue all over it... " She spoke in a rush, her animated hands punctuating every word as she picked her way through the graveled lot.

Her spindly heels slowed their progress. On the way, she launched into a run down on the car's maintenance history, her rapid chatter a trail of breadcrumbs for him to follow as they walked through the maze of vehicles. Blondie hardly took a breath until they were alongside a blue Volvo.

"This is it. It's unlocked."

An old newspaper, running shoes, and empty tissue boxes littered the interior. The model was about four years old and judging by the dust and dried water spots outside, Blondie was no car sn.o.b. Popping the hood, he smiled at his quick a.s.sessment. Dentists checked teeth. He checked cars. Leaning over, he poked around the engine while she prattled from a safe distance.

He eyed her over his shoulder. "You always this talkative?"

Her lips froze. She blinked and exhaled slowly. "When I'm nervous, yes." She cleared her throat. "Even when I'm not, actually. I just talk a lot."

"I won't bite."

Five Harley riders sped by on the empty road. Sam's Bar was on an isolated lot outside town. No other businesses or development. Late summer sun was a lazy orange ball dropping behind thick trees. He swatted a fly buzzing his ear and dipped lower over the engine. Gravel crunched behind. Instinct brushed his skin. She was coming in for a better look...at him.

"I've seen you around town." Blondie's hip rested against the car's side panel.

His poking slowed. So, she's admitting to us noticing each other. Good.

When it came to attractive women, he had a one-track mind. Right now it raced with ways to tease the feminine curves planted an arm's length away. His pulse ticked too fast for his liking, and the sweat beading his nape wasn't entirely from summer heat. He knew what was wrong with the vehicle but gave himself a moment, checking this and that to get his focus back.

"Timing belt's snapped." He stood tall, swiping both hands on his jeans. "Have the tow truck take your car to McMillan's. It'll be ready by five tomorrow."

"McMillan's? Thank you." She tucked loose hair behind her ears. "I'll take your recommendation, since I know zilch about Hidden Valley's auto shops." A beat of silence pa.s.sed, measured by bright brown eyes searching him. "What's your name?"

"AJ." He grinned a crooked turn of the lips, usually a hit with the ladies.

"Nice to meet you, AJ." She offered a stiff but graceful hand. "I'm Jennifer."

He took her smooth hand in his, liking the slender fingers sliding into his grip. She was warm and soft to his hands coa.r.s.e from abrasive cleaners.

"Yeah, we've seen each other around town." He shut the hood as she took in his battered work boots and the barbed-wire tattoo peeking out from his sleeve.

"Yes, I've noticed you looking at me from time to time."

"Small town. And you're a fine-looking woman."

Jennifer messed with a ruffle on her dress. Maybe he was going too fast? She swallowed delicately the subtle tell chased by a gentle smile.

"Thank you, I guess. Hidden Valley's not so large, is it?"

"I grew up here."

"Oh, not me. I moved here about two years ago."

She checked the road, her nails digging crescents in her purse straps. The bar's blue and white neon signs snapped to life over the door. Night was coming. She was fidgety, standing with a virtual stranger outside a roadside bar, her car broken down. So they'd seen each other around town. That didn't mean anything to a woman alone. She had good reason to be wary.

He made sure the timbre of his voice was soothing. "Hey. I like a pretty woman as well as the next man, but you're safe with me."

She drifted toward him, laughing and drawing out her words. "Welllll, the way you looked at me felt so predatory, so, ohhhhh, I don't know-"

"Did you like it?" Every inch of him tensed.

Jennifer's breathing ebbed and flowed faster. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s safely hidden inside her wrap-around dress pushed up a fraction. Attraction was a funny thing. It defied boundaries like money and education, yet when wanting to be fed, nothing less than sheer will and total avoidance squashed the hunger. Jennifer stared at him. And he knew. She sized him up, deciding whether to stay a polite stranger or push past her comfort zone, giving this spark a chance.

"Yes." She sighed, a warm slip of breath he could almost feel.

His senses went razor-sharp. The blunt edges of her hair slid over her shoulders, touching the front of her dress. Golden skin flushed, her face, her neck, the exposed vee of her chest. "It's been awhile since a man looked at me that way." Her voice was wispy.

"No boyfriend?"

A shadow crossed her face. "No, I'm a widow. More than a year now."

"Want to talk about it?"

His b.u.t.t was on the edge of the hood. He stretched his legs out and crossed them at the ankle. Jennifer set her purse on the ground and planted her rear beside him. He waited stock-still, not wanting to spook her. They sat quietly, getting comfortable with silence when she crossed her feet at the ankle and braced her hands on the hood like him.

"I'm a mess." She stared at distant pine trees, a long sigh chasing her words. "You could say I'm at a cross roads with all the intersections. .h.i.tting at once."

Her profile was pretty. Waning sun crowned her with gold, touching the line of her nose, her full lips parted with unsaid words. If he read her right, her exhale was an admission of defeat or disappointment. He wasn't an expert at women, but his mom and a string of girlfriends taught him times like these a man needed to shut up and listen. Not fix things. Not solve problems. Just listen.

"So what about these cross roads of yours?"

Her head tilted one degree at him. "You really want to listen to me?"

"Why not?"

"Because we're strangers and we both live in the same town." She shuddered. "It'd be embarra.s.sing. I couldn't walk by you and pretend you didn't know."

He chuckled, kicking a rock across the graveled lot. "Didn't stop you from pretending I didn't exist before."