Celina (Connelly Cousins #1) (4 page)

Beside her, Jamie shifted uncomfortably, but Celina didn’t seem to notice. She focused all of her attention on him, and damn, why did that make his cock throb?

“What color are your eyes?”

Kyle didn’t answer, but that didn’t stop her. “I bet they’re blue. And clear. Like ice.” Her voice grew softer, as if she was thinking out loud.

What the hell? Did she just blurt out anything that was on her mind?

Kyle stood abruptly, dropping a few bills on the table. “Dinner’s on me,” he said gruffly. “I gotta go.”

* * *

T
hey watched Kyle walk away, Celina silently noting his smooth, predatory gait as he did.

“I’m sorry,” she said, turning to Jamie. “I think I’ve upset him. Maybe I should apologize? But I’m not really sure what I said...”

Jamie suddenly seemed happier than he’d been all evening, and dug into his meal with renewed gusto. “Nah, don’t worry about it. That’s just Kyle.”

S
everal days passed, and Celina could not get Kyle out of her mind. She rationalized that it was only because she had offended him in some way and wanted to make things right, and
not
because she wanted to see him again. Jamie had brushed off Kyle’s abrupt departure and told her not to worry about it, but she couldn’t help but feel responsible. After all, he’d bolted right after she’d disengaged her brain-to-mouth filter and started talking about something that was obviously a sensitive subject with him.

Yeah, that sounded perfectly reasonable. And it was complete baloney.

She really did want to see him again, if for no other reason than to prove to herself that her romantic-fiction-addled mind had played havoc with her feminine sensibilities, and had embellished her perception of the strikingly handsome, enigmatic and fascinating Kyle McCullough.

The plain truth was, Celina had never been as acutely aware of a man as she was of Jamie’s brother. His presence wrapped itself around her, demanding her full attention, attention she found herself desperately wanting to give.

Kyle was gorgeous, in a bad boy sort of way. Long, black hair framed his face and fell beyond his shoulders. Mirrored shades sat upon high cheekbones and a nose that looked like it had been broken once or twice. Full, male lips were set in the perpetual hint of a smirk; a few faded scars were barely visible beneath the dark shadow dusting his strong jaw.

Not staring at him was difficult, so she’d had to make do with occasional surreptitious glances and the utilization of a few other senses. She’d focused on the sound his leather jacket made with each slight shift, or the rhythm of his breath, intrigued by how it seemed to stop entirely sometimes.

He’d spoken little that night, letting Jamie answer for him or ignoring comments altogether. But on those few occasions when he
had
said something, his voice had a direct line to her most sensitive parts. Rich and low, it had reverberated through her body like the rippling waves of a pebble tossed into still waters.

She’d allowed herself to breathe in the scent of him, too: fresh soap, leather, and something terribly dark and sensual. Sandalwood, maybe? Musk? Whatever it was, it was both captivating and unique. Without a doubt, she would be able to detect him in a room full of men with her eyes closed, just by his scent. That knowledge alone had had the heat pooling in the most feminine parts of her.

Just like it was doing right now.

At least she was alone this time, unlike the other night. Talk about awkward! Jamie hadn’t seemed to notice, thank goodness, but there had been several times when she was certain Kyle was staring at her from behind those dark shades. Had he been checking her out, too, or had she simply imagined the sensations of his gaze stroking over her breasts?

Thinking about it intensified the heat and sent delicious shivers up and down the length of her spine.

Yes, she wanted to see him again, if for no other reason than to see if she’d have the same uncharacteristic physical reaction (mental, too, since she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him).  Because if she did... no, she wouldn’t think about that yet. Not until she could be sure.

The whole situation gnawed at her until she finally worked up enough courage to do something about it. But what? And how? She didn’t have any way to get in touch with him, and the chances of running into him were pretty slim given that their paths hadn’t crossed prior to that dinner.

The easiest thing would be to simply ask Jamie how to get in touch with him, but she nixed that idea right away. Things were already a bit strained with Jamie, and she didn’t want to make things even more uncomfortable.

Which was yet another problem. Because while Jamie didn’t make her heart pound furiously or make her breath catch, Kyle did.

So she asked someone who knew just about everyone there was to know in Birch Falls – her brother. Johnny knew right away who Kyle was and where he worked. Apparently Kyle was some kind of demigod when it came to bikes. Johnny’s eyes lit up as he talked about some of the special things Kyle had done – even how he’d been featured on one of the popular Chopper shows on cable several times – but most of it went right over her head.

Johnny was less enthusiastic, though, when he realized
why
she was asking.

“Stay away from him, Lina,” he warned, expressly informing her that Kyle was “not her type”. She tried to explain that she just wanted to apologize to him for something she’d inadvertently said, but he just laughed it off. “Nothing coming from your sweet little mouth could have offended him, baby sister.”

But in the end he softened, just like he always did when she really wanted something. And when Lina went to bed that night, it was with the knowledge that Kyle worked at a cycle shop downtown known as Big Mo’s.

––––––––

I
t was well past closing time when Lina finally worked up the nerve to get out of her car and approach Big Mo’s Cycle Shop. Mo – a big, scary-looking guy who very much looked the part of the stereotypical biker dude with his long beard and bandana-capped head - had been gone nearly half an hour, but the shop lights stayed on, and Celina knew Kyle was still in there. She’d sat outside the building for the last three nights, gathering her courage, watching people come and go. Kyle was always the last to leave.

A bell jangled above the door when she walked in. It was one of the old-fashioned kind, not one of those electronic-beam models every place seemed to have these days. The smell of welded metal and new tires hit her immediately. A faded sign above the register proclaimed the shop was “protected by Smith and Wesson”, though someone would have to have a death wish to break into the place. The pounding bass of head-banging heavy metal came from the back, and it was there that Celina headed with small, hesitant steps.

At first, the room appeared empty except for the stripped carcasses and assorted limbs of dismantled cycles. She walked slowly and quietly, unaware that her every move was being carefully monitored.

* * *

F
uck
, swore Kyle under his breath.
What is she doing here?
He’d spent the last week trying to forget everything about her – the way she looked, the way she smelled, the way she saw right through his shades and into his goddamned soul. But it was hard, because Jamie couldn’t shut the fuck up about her.

Kyle told him she was trouble, but would he listen? No, the stupid bastard thought everything about her was as pure as the new fallen snow. Nobody could be that innocent, not when she nearly had him ready to release in his jeans from the other side of the table. He hadn’t shared that particular bit of info with Jamie, but he’d gotten his point across.

Which probably explained why he hadn’t heard from his brother in the past few days.

The lack of contact was a welcome respite. Kyle hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, but at least he hadn’t had to listen to Jamie go on and on about her, too.

Celina made her way hesitantly into the bay, having not yet spotted him in the shadows. She stopped at one of the smaller models he’d acquired on the side. Its minimized frame was perfect for a lady’s reach, and occasionally there was a demand for just such a thing. He sucked in a breath as she ran her hand over the buffed-out metal like a lover’s caress, felt his heart skip a beat when she wrapped her fingers around one of the handles, gripping it and stroking lightly across the inside of her hand.

Please don’t straddle it. Please don’t straddle it
. Kyle repeated the phrase like a desperate mantra in his mind. She bit her bottom lip and shifted her weight as if that was exactly what she was about to do.

“We’re closed,” he barked, suddenly behind her, causing her to jump. Without thinking, his hand shot out to steady her before she knocked the bike onto the floor.

Yeah, that’s why he did it. Because of the bike.

He immediately wished he hadn’t. She clung to him like a life preserver in the middle of the sea, until her brain was able to work out that she was not in a life-threatening situation.

Embarrassed, she took a step back, and he couldn’t come up with a good reason to keep her from doing so. His erection did, though. She’d brushed against it in the process and he’d heard her gasp. He grumbled inwardly. She shows up and within seconds, he was like iron. He didn’t bother trying to hide it. Maybe it would scare her away.

It didn’t. He could tell with some amusement that she quite obviously avoided looking at him
down there
. Yeah, she was good. Acting like she’s never felt a man’s hardened shaft against her slightly rounded, soft stomach.

Goddamn it.

“You scared me,” she said in a rush of cinnamon-scented breath, and he fixed her with his hardest, most bad-assed stare from behind dark lenses. He’d flung on the shades the minute he emerged from behind his latest project.

What did she expect?
She should be scared. Didn’t she realize she was in here alone with him?

She was even smaller than he’d thought. Had he been so inclined, he could have done anything he wanted to her and she wouldn’t have been able to do a damn thing about it. She didn’t give the impression she was the least bit vacuous, nor that she had a death wish. So what was her deal?

Her head just came up to his shoulders, and she was barely half the width of him. That only made her luscious curves stand out all the more, even in the modest top and shorts that she wore. He bit back a curse. Didn’t she have an ounce of self-preservation instinct? And why was he feeling so goddamned protective all of a sudden?

“You shouldn’t be here.” His voice was low and smooth, the voice of a predator giving a final warning. If she had any sense at all she’d be running for the door.

She lifted her eyes from his chest and looked into his face.
Shit
. Big, green eyes, like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi bearing down on it.

Oh, yeah, I’m a big, bad Peterbilt, baby.

She flushed and lowered her gaze, but that only had her looking right at the massive erection that was straining close to his waistband. With a sudden inhalation, she went back to staring at his chest.

“I, um, I just wanted to apologize.” Her voice was low and velvety, but he had no trouble hearing her over the blaring music. It was like he was tuned in to her own personal frequency. Shifting his weight to the other leg, he toned down the killer glare just a hair. “For what?”

* * *

C
elina took a fortifying breath, trying to summon the courage to say what she had come to say. It was too late to back out now. Once she got started, the words tumbled out quickly.

“I’m sorry I asked about your eyes the other night. Jamie never said I shouldn’t or anything, and I had no idea that you were really, you know, sensitive and all. Which is okay. I get it. I mean, I’m really weird about my...”

Celina blushed furiously and paused, realizing that she was babbling like an idiot. She shook herself, trying not to think too hard about the rock-hard pecs in front of her eyes. The ones she wanted to reach under his shirt and run her hands over, followed closely by her tongue. She mentally cursed when she felt the wetness seeping into her panties, glad her shorts were black and nothing would be easily visible.

“Anyway,” she stammered, “I obviously upset you, and you left so fast I didn’t have a chance to apologize, and you never even got to eat or anything, and ... Oh damn, this just isn’t coming out right.”

* * *

S
he took another breath, and Kyle was tempted to cover those soft, full lips with his own, just to shut her up. But something inside him enjoyed the fact that she was getting flustered around him. Not scared, though. Nervous. She lifted her eyes to his face again.

“And so I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“You think I got pissed off because you asked me about my eyes?” That’s why she’d been sitting outside the shop these last few nights? To tell him she was sorry because she thought she had offended him? Because she felt bad he hadn’t eaten dinner?

Yeah, he’d seen her out there, parked just down the street in the classic black Jag. It was driving him insane, knowing she was out there, waiting. He’d stayed later and later each night, hoping to find out
why
. If she only knew the real reason he’d left the restaurant – because had he stayed there one more minute, he would have slung her over his shoulder and carried her off to spend the rest of the night fucking her senseless.

“Didn’t you?” Her voice was so quiet, so trusting.

She searched his face, looking for an answer. What was he supposed to say to something like that? That the last person who’d pissed him off was still recovering in the hospital? Or that the last person who’d actually given a shit whether or not he’d skipped a meal had been buried years ago?

She shifted and dropped her eyes back to his chest, looking oddly disappointed when he didn’t respond. “That’s all I wanted to say. I’ll go now.”

He didn’t move, so she took a step around him and headed for the door.