Bound to the Bachelor (8 page)

Of course, he had such an amazing, rock-hard body; he’d probably look good in anything. Or nothing.

That’s so helpful, thanks a lot
, she told her brain.

“Listen –”

“Give it up, Lily. I’m not abandoning you on the slopes.”

“Awesome. Then we can just keep having a super time together, then,” she muttered, sliding her goggles back down.

As it turned out, it wasn’t completely awful. After a couple more easy runs she felt confident enough to try a blue square trail and managed not to embarrass herself. Beau bought hot chocolates from the kiosk near the ski lift afterward, and as she stood in the winter sun, hot chocolate warming her belly, she glanced across at him and couldn’t stop from smiling.

“You were right. It’s a great day,” she said.

“Can I have that in writing?”

“The bit about you being right?” She pretended to consider it for a moment. “Nope. Probably not. And if you ever tell anyone I said it, I’ll deny it to my dying breath.”

“You give any ground, ever?”

“Do you?”

“I’m going to take that as a no.”

“Ditto.”

She was still smiling as she tossed her hot chocolate cup in the trash, though.

They tackled another couple of runs before calling it quits and heading back to the resort for lunch. Lily didn’t say anything, but she’d started to feel the unaccustomed exercise in her legs, and she was more than grateful to shed an outer layer when Beau led her into the resort.

“We’ve got a choice of fine dining or burgers and beer by the fire,” he said as they checked their coats.

“You made two reservations? Isn’t that a bit sneaky?”

“I was trying to anticipate the needs of a demanding customer.”

Lily bit back a laugh at the provocative remark. “Just for that, I’m opting for burgers and beers. So there.”

True to his word, they were shown to a table by a roaring open fire in a huge stone-built fireplace. The decor was rustic mountain with a few whimsical touches, and floor to ceiling windows offered breath-taking views of the mountain. It wasn’t until Lily sat down and dragged her gaze from the panorama outside to the man across the table that she realized his eyes were the exact color of the clear winter sky.

Like that was fair. Thank God he’d been wearing sunglasses all morning.

“You should be warned, I’m not one of those dainty women who orders a salad and picks at it,” she said as she opened the menu.

“Knock yourself out,” he said.

“Wouldn’t that save us an awkward conversation?” she murmured.

His mouth quirked into a smile. She shifted her gaze back to the menu, disturbed by how compelling she found him.

It was his eyes. And cheekbones. And the way he had of smiling in slow degrees, as though he was thinking something private and dirty and really enjoying it.

It was just as well he didn’t like her, because she was a little afraid of what she might do if he turned his formidable charm on her. Something stupid and reckless, no doubt. Something she’d regret.

“Good afternoon. Welcome to Big Sky Resort. I’ll be your waitress for the day. Are we ready to order yet?”

Never had Lily been so grateful for an overly-cheery, bouncy waitress. She kept the girl at their table as long as she could, asking for opinions on the various burgers and beers before finally making her selection. Beau sat back in his chair, taking it all in, not even looking at the menu when it came time to order his meal.

They regarded each other across the table once the waitress had gone, neither of them saying anything. For the life of her, Lily couldn’t read what was going on behind his eyes. She hoped like hell hers were similarly opaque. It would be deeply mortifying if he had any idea how much he unsettled her when she’d done her damnedest to meet his coolness with indifference all these years.

“So, Beau. The Marines. What made you join?” she said, latching onto the first subject that came to mind.

“High school was finished. I needed to do something. I didn’t want to go to college or sit behind a desk somewhere.” He shrugged a big shoulder as though it was self-explanatory.

“How many tours did you do in Iraq?”

“Two.”

She could feel his resistance like a force field. He didn’t want to talk about it.

“Your turn,” she said.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s your turn to ask a pointless question.”

“I thought you weren’t into small talk?”

“You want to sit here and stare at each other?” she asked.

His gaze flicked to her mouth before sliding briefly down her body. When his gaze once again met hers, she could see the distance in it. The judgment.

“Here’s a question for you,” she said on impulse, resting an elbow on the table and leaning toward him slightly. “Why don’t you like me?”

She’d always wondered, and now seemed like a good time to clear the air. If that were even possible.

“I don’t dislike you.”

She made a rude noise. “Yeah, you do. From the moment you met me, you’ve been standoffish. You didn’t even want to sit next to me at Andie and Heath’s wedding. You think I’m a pain in the ass. Admit it.”

“Oh, I definitely think you’re a pain in the ass. But I don’t dislike you.”

She rolled her eyes. If he didn’t want to lay his cards on the table, it was no skin off her nose. She was more than happy to resume Cold War status.

“Fine. Whatever. Let’s talk about something else. What’s your favorite color?”

“Give me your hand.”

She stared at him. “Why?”

“Relax. I’m not about to propose.”

“I didn’t think you were,” she scoffed.

She could feel heat climbing into her face.

His hand lay palm up on the table between them, waiting for hers. Feeling ridiculously nervous, she reached out and set her hand in his.

His skin was warm, his fingers strong as he wrapped them around hers. His gaze pinned to her face, he turned her hand over, his thumb sliding sensually across her palm. A jolt of electric awareness raced up her arm and through her body, setting off fireworks in places that hadn’t seen a man in more than a year.

“That’s why I keep my distance,” he said, his voice very deep.

She licked her lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you?” He slid his grip up her hand to her wrist. Two fingers stroked over her pulse point, firm and knowing.

Heat unfurled in her belly and she squeezed her knees together to try and quell the traitorous throb between her thighs.

Keeping her face poker-straight, she shook her head, feigning indifference.

“Still nothing.” She tried to pull her hand free, but he tightened his grip, his gaze still on her face.

“I don’t believe you,” he said.

She opened her mouth to respond just as he slid his fingers higher, stroking the tender crease inside her elbow. She gasped, unable to hide her response, her back arching ever-so-slightly as a rush of pure heat rocketed through her, hardening her nipples and tightening her sex.

His pupils dilated, and for a second his grip tightened on her arm. Then he released her, sitting back in his chair, his big body loose and relaxed.

“I rest my case.”

She felt… buffeted. As though she’d just endured a windstorm. She reached for her glass of water and was mortified to see that her hand was shaking. She snatched it back and dropped it into her lap, away from his watchful gaze.

“So, I have sensitive elbows. What’s your point?” she asked.

“You know what my point is.”

She did. For some perverse reason, her body wanted his. Badly. And the feeling was obviously mutual, if the look in Beau’s eyes was anything to go by.

“We have good chemistry,” she said grudgingly.

“Good?” One of his eyebrows arched high.

Okay, it was off the charts. But she wasn’t going to gratify his ego by confirming what he already knew.

“It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’m not interested in starting anything,” she said coolly.

She hadn’t been interested for about three years now. Once word had got around Marietta about her former profession, she’d had more than her fair share of hound dogs sniffing around, looking to play out the fantasy of having their own private lap dancer. It hadn’t taken long before she’d wearied of trying to sort the men who were genuinely interested in her from the creeps looking for a thrill or a notch on their belts, and in the end she’d simply given up. Far easier to concentrate on the less painful and fraught aspects of life than to invite constant disappointment into her world.

“That suits me just fine,” Beau said.

She cocked her head as she processed the full implications of what he’d just admitted. “So, let me get this straight – you’ve been a rude jerk to me for nearly five years because you didn’t want to want me?”

“I was never rude.”

“I beg to differ.”

“I kept my distance. That’s all. You didn’t exactly roll out the welcome mat yourself, you know.”

“Yeah, because I thought you were judging me for being a stripper, because you treated me like I was radioactive, and if you came too close you were going to turn into Spiderman.”

He frowned. “It’s not my place to judge anyone. I’m hardly a saint. And I can think of a lot less honest professions.”

So could she. Politician, evangelical TV preacher, fortune teller…

“Good to hear,” she said.

They eyed each other.

“Maybe it’s time to call a cease-fire,” he said.

The waitress appeared with their meals then, and Lily held back her response while a platter loaded with a delicious-looking burger and a bowl of steak fries was placed in front of each of them.

“Enjoy your meal,” their waitress said before leaving them to it.

“What would a cease-fire look like?” Lily asked once they were alone again.

He hefted his burger. “I quit avoiding stuff Andie invites me to because you’re going to be there. You do the same.”

She paused with a fry halfway to her mouth. “You do that?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t.”

She ate the fry, then washed it down with a mouthful of the pale ale she’d chosen.

“God, that’s good. And I don’t manage my social calendar around you, Beau Bennett. Never have, never will.”

“Bullshit.”

She gave him a look.

“You didn’t come to the party I threw for Andie’s birthday last year because it was at my place,” he said.

“I was busy.” It was a lie, of course. She’d sidestepped the party because she hadn’t wanted to be on Beau’s home turf.

“Hey, if you don’t think you can handle the heat, we can leave things the way they are.”

She grabbed her burger in both hands. “I can handle the heat, don’t worry.”

She took a huge bite of her burger, only registering Beau’s amusement when she’d finished chewing and swallowing.

“You weren’t kidding about the dainty thing, were you?” he said.

She managed to give him the finger without losing her grip on the burger.

“Very elegant,” he said dryly.

She concentrated for a second and managed to produce a creditable burp. He laughed, the sound low and sexy and appreciative. Even though she knew it was foolish to buy in to the buzz of attraction crackling between them, she couldn’t stop herself from smiling.

They locked gazes, and for a second Lily got caught in the banked heat in his steady regard. She remembered how good he looked in his tight black boxer-briefs, how hard his flat, muscular belly was, how her body had lit up when he touched her.

They both broke the contact simultaneously, focusing on their individual meals, fussing with their drinks.

“I’m not sure a cease-fire is a good idea,” she said, carefully not looking at him this time.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

She shot a quick glance at him. He looked disgruntled. As though he was annoyed with himself for not being able to control his response to her. She guessed that, like her, he didn’t relish admitting that something had gotten the better of him. One thing they had in common.

That and the whole mutual fiery-dangerous-lust thing.

“Tell me about your house renovations. Andie tells me you’re thinking about knocking your cabin down and starting from scratch…?” she said brightly, determined to move on.

“That’s the plan, yeah…”

She let out a silent sigh of relief as he took up the conversational baton. A few more hours, and this date would be over.

Hallelujah.

‡

F
orty minutes later,
Beau watched Lily as she raved about the dessert she’d ordered to the waitress who was clearing away their plates.

“That was so good. I haven’t had apple pie that good since forever. And that cinnamon ice-cream…” Lily crossed her eyes to convey how much she’d enjoyed the sweet treat. “Unbelievable, out of this world, insanely good.”

He bit back the urge to smile. Unlike a lot of the beautiful women he’d known, Lily didn’t seem hung up on how she looked or how she might present at any given moment. She hadn’t checked her hair or make-up once since they’d arrived at the resort, and she’d just devoured her burger as though someone had announced there was a zombie plague and this was her last meal. She didn’t seem to care if she looked goofy or foolish, and she certainly didn’t go out of her way to preen or pose – and yet half a dozen of the men dining around them had kept her under covert surveillance during their meal, checking her out.