Lucky in Love

God, she was so fierce she made his heart ache. They could use her at his work, he thought, but was doubly glad that she pretty much embodied Lucky Harbor. Hopefully she’d never live through some of the horrors out there, or lose her genuine compassion to jaded cynicism. “So what makes a woman like you take on such a thing?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Usually this sort of thing is driven by a cause. What’s yours?”

She turned away, busying herself with washing her hands again.

“Ah,” he said. “So I’m not the only one with secrets.”

She turned back to him at that, eyes narrowed. “Tell you what. I’ll answer one question for every question you answer for me.”

He knew better than to go there. He might have treated her like a one-night stand but he knew damn well she was different. By all appearances, she was pretty and sweet and innocent, but beneath that guileless smile, she held all the power, and he knew it. She’d have him confessing his sins with one warm touch.

She isn’t for you…

“Yeah,” she said dryly, hands on hips. “I figured that’d be too much for you.”

It was. Far too much. He was leaving…and yet he opened his mouth anyway. “What time do you get off?”

This shocked her, he could tell. Fair enough. He’d shocked himself too.

“Seven,” she said.

“I’ll pick you up.”

“No,” she said. “You know the pier?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll meet you there. In front of the Ferris wheel.”

She didn’t trust him. Smart woman. “Okay,” he said. “In front of the Ferris wheel.”

“How do I know you’re going to remember to show up for this date?”

A date. Christ, it was utter insanity. But he looked into her beautiful eyes and nearly drowned. “Because this time I’m in charge of all my faculties,” he said.

Except, clearly, he wasn’t.

Chapter 9

Stress wouldn’t be so hard to take if it were

chocolate covered.

As Mallory got into her car after her shift, her phone rang from an unfamiliar number.

“He came to the hospital to see you?” Amy asked.

Mallory didn’t bother to ask how Amy knew Ty had been at the hospital earlier. It was probably put out as an all points bulletin. “Whose cell phone is this?”

“I just found it at the diner. Don’t tell Jan; she likes to keep all the leftover phones for herself.”

“Amy! You can’t just use someone’s phone.”

“And that,” Amy said dryly, “is why you need Bad Girl lessons. Okay, impromptu meeting of the Chocoholics commencing right here, right now, because you’re in crisis.”

“I am not.”

“Lesson number one,” Amy went on without listening. “Always use a situation to your benefit.”

“That’s lesson number one?” Mallory said. “What’s lesson number two?”

“Lesson number two is not to get your exploits recounted on Facebook. Rookie mistake, Mal.”

Mallory sighed. “Do you have any wisdom that might actually be helpful?”

“Yeah.” There was some muffled talking, and she came back on. “Grace is here. She needed a big, warm brownie after pounding the sidewalk today looking for a job. She says lesson number three is to understand that guys are about the visuals, and she’s right. Always wear Bad Girl shoes and Bad Girl panties. They create the mood.”

The panties were self-explanatory. “Bad Girl shoes? You wear steel-toed boots.”

More muffled talking as Grace and Amy conferred on this subject.

“Okay,” Amy came back to say. “Grace thinks it’s a frame of mind. I’m a shit-kicker, so the boots work. You’re…softer. You need high heels. Strappy. Sexy.”

The thought of high heels after being on her feet all day made Mallory want to cry. Then she remembered how it had felt when Ty had put his hands on her ankles and removed her heels for her. She’d liked that, a lot. “My only heels hurt my feet.”

“Get another pair. Lesson number four,” Amy said. “Get a hold of his phone and scan through the contacts.”

“I’m not going to run through his contacts!” Mallory paused and considered. “And what would I be looking for, anyway?”

“Anyone listed as My Drug Dealer. That’s when you’d run not walk.”

Mallory blinked. “The guy who left his phone at the diner has a contact that says My Drug Dealer?”

“And also Bitch Ex-Wife. Oh, and Mommy.” Amy sighed. “Not a keeper.”

Grace got on the phone then, her mouth sounding quite full. “You’re going to have to make the next meeting in person, Mallory. This brownie is orgasmic.”

She could use an orgasmic brownie. “One of you take a turn now.”

“Well, Grace here has been turned down for all the jobs she applied for from the Canadian border to San Diego,” Amy said. “So I’m considering pouring her a shot of something to go with the brownie. In the meantime, I called Tara at the B&B, and they had no problem giving her the local discount to keep staying there for cheap, since she’s a local now. As for me,” Amy said, “I’m status quo. Waiting for warmer weather to make my move.”

“Your move on what?” Mallory asked.

“Life. In the meantime, we’ll concentrate on you,” she said. “You’re the most screwed up so it makes the most sense. Get some bad girl shoes.”

Mallory hung up and drove to the pier. When she got out, she took a moment to inhale the salty ocean air as the sound of the waves hitting the shore soothed her antsy nerves. At the pier’s entrance, flyers were posted, one for an upcoming high school play, another for a musical festival the following week. But it was the flyer for the town’s monthly Interested Citizens Meeting that caught her interest.

This was where Bill Lawson would pitch her Health Services Clinic and get the town’s collective reaction.

In the meantime, she had another meeting, one that, according to her heart rate, was imminent. She’d changed into a summer dress she’d borrowed from Tammy’s work locker. Tammy had superior clothes. This was what happened when one was married to a mall cop. By way of her husband, Tammy got a hell of a discount.

Walking to the Ferris wheel, Mallory took quick stock of her appearance. Not too bad, she thought, although her walking sandals were definitely not up to Bad Girl code.

Next time.

The night was warm and moist, and the waves rocked gently against the pylons far below the pier. The power beneath her feet made the pier shudder faintly with the push and pull of the tide, which matched the push and pull of anticipation drumming through her.

You are not going to sleep with him again, she told herself firmly. That was just a one-time thing. You’re only here now because you’re curious about him.

And also because he’d looked hot today at the hospital. Damn, she had a problem. A big, attracted-to-him-like-a-moth-to-a-flame-type problem. How that was possible, she had no idea. Their good-bye on the night of the auction had been…abrupt. Although nothing about what had occurred before that had felt abrupt. Nope, everything had been…amazing.

She stopped at the entrance to the line for the Ferris wheel. When her inner drumming turned into a prickle at the base of her neck, she turned in a slow circle.

And found Ty watching her.

He was leaning back against the pier railing, legs casually crossed at the ankles, looking for all the world like a guy who made it a habit to be carefree enough to walk a beach pier.

They both knew that wasn’t true.

And good God, just looking at him did something to her. His hair was tousled, like he’d been shoving his fingers through it. Stubble darkened his jaw, and his firm, sensuous mouth was unsmiling. The scar above his brow was new and shiny, and the mirrored sunglasses only added to the whole ruffian look he had going on.

It suited him, in a big way.

He was dressed in cargoes and a dark T-shirt snug across his broad chest and loose over his abs. He looked big, bad, built, and dangerous as hell.

And he was hers for the evening.

Hers.

Not one of her smartest moves. But stretching her wings wasn’t about keeping her head. It was about…being. Living.

Feeling.

And the man definitely made her feel, a lot. Already in their short acquaintance, he’d made her feel curious, annoyed, frustrated, and the topper…

Aroused.

She was feeling that right now in fact, in spades. She wanted to shove up his shirt and lick him from Adam’s Apple to belly button.

And beyond.

Slowly he pushed the sunglasses to the top of his head and his stark green eyes locked unwaveringly on hers. She knew he couldn’t really read her mind, but she jumped and flushed a little guiltily anyway for where her thoughts had gone.

He pushed away from the railing and came toward her, all those muscles moving fluidly and utterly without thought. She had no idea what she’d expected, but it wasn’t for him to take her hand in his and pull her around to the side of the Ferris wheel, out of view, between a storage shed and the pier railing.

“W-what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer. He merely put his big hands on her, lifted her up to her tiptoes, and covered her mouth with his.

Her purse fell in a thud at her feet. Her fingers slid into his hair. And when his tongue slid over hers, all her bones melted away.

Then before she knew it, the kiss was over and she was weaving unsteadily on her feet, blinking him into focus. “What was that?”

He scooped up her purse and handed it to her. “I lost my head. You’re distracting.”

“And you’re not?”

His eyes heated. “We could fix that.”

“Oh no,” she said. “You said you weren’t a long-term bet. You said you weren’t even a short one.”

“But I’m on your list. Your list of Mr. Wrongs.”

“Yeah, about that. I’ve rearranged the order of the list.” This was a bold-faced lie. She’d not rearranged the list. He was the list.

He raised a brow. “Did what’s-his-name from the hardware store get ahead of me? The one who sleeps with anyone with boobs?”

“Maybe.”

“I was at the hardware store today,” he said. “Anderson was there, flirting with some cute young thing.” Leaning in, his mouth found its way to her ear. “You can take Anderson off your list.”

Oh no he didn’t. He didn’t just tell her what to do. “I—”

He pressed her into the railing and kissed her again. Apparently he didn’t want to hear it. That was okay, because she forgot her own name, much less who was on her list. She had her tongue in his mouth, her hands in his silky hair, and her br**sts mashed up to his hard, warm chest. She’d have climbed inside him if she could.

You came here to ask him questions.

In an attempt to go back to that, she squeezed her thighs, thinking keep them together, but his knee nudged hers, and then he slid a muscled thigh between hers. Good. Lord. He felt so…good. Drawing on some reserve of strength she didn’t know she had, she pushed on his chest. For a beat he didn’t budge, then he stepped slowly back, his eyes heavy-lidded and sexy.

“Okay,” she said shakily. “Let’s try something that’s not going to lead to round two of sex in a public place.” His expression was giving nothing away. Not exactly open, but she was a woman of her word, and she wanted to know he was a man of his. “What do you do for a living? Are you…military?” she asked, letting loose of the one thing she couldn’t seem to get out of her head. It was the way he carried himself: calm, steady, looking ready for anything, and that bone-deep stoicism. Not to mention how he’d looked while at Ryan’s bedside—like he knew to the depths of his soul what Ryan was feeling.

A low, wry laugh rumbled out of him. “So we’re going to ease into this then.”

“Yeah.” She was glad to see the smile. “You don’t know this about me, but I tend to jump in with both feet.”

“I noticed.” He looked at her, his eyes reminding her that he knew other things about her as well, things that made her blush. “At the moment I’m rebuilding a few cars.”

This didn’t exactly answer her question, and in fact, only brought on more questions. “So you’re a mechanic?” she asked.

“While I’m here in lucky Harbor.”

“But—”

“My turn. The other night. Why me?”

She squirmed a little at this, although it was a fair enough question. He already knew that what they’d done that night at the auction had been a first for her, but what he didn’t know, couldn’t know, was that she’d only been able to do it at all because she’d felt something for him. Which was crazy; they’d been perfect strangers. “Like I said, it’d been a long time.”

“So I was handy?”

“Well, Anderson already had a date, so…”

He growled, and she laughed. “I don’t know exactly,” she admitted. “Except…” Just say it. “I felt a connection to you.”

He was looking very serious now, and he slowly shook his head. “You don’t want to feel connected to me, Mallory.”

“No, I don’t want to. But I do. And there’s more.”

“The whole bored and restless thing?” he asked.

So he’d also overheard her entire conversation with her mother. The man had some serious listening skills.