In the Firelight (9 page)

Rhys watched as the meeting participants filed out of the room. From the sound of it, the discussion would continue, to a certain extent, at the Lone Pine Bar, one of three bars in the small town. This statistic made Rhys smile. Some things never changed. Montana towns were still made up of churches and bars. Michelle and Robert were loading their kids up to take them home, and he watched as Shea gave her friend a quick hug goodbye.

“You going to the Lone Pine?” Michelle asked.

Shea looked conflicted, and Rhys could see that, more than anything, she just wanted to go home. To her haven in the woods.

“I better…” she said dejectedly instead. “This is getting kind of real.”

Michelle nodded. “Well, just try not to get too fired up. Maybe have a drink. It might do you some good to relax a little.” Michelle’s eyes darted over to where Rhys stood off to the side. “Maybe you might even… enjoy yourself?” she added with a smile.

“Quit it, Michelle,” Shea grumbled.

Michelle’s little comment seemed innocent enough. Or at least as innocent as it could be with her obvious intent. But Rhys could feel something else in the woman’s tone, and there was a strange light in her eyes. Something that told him that he was getting under Shea’s skin, and that her friend could see it.

This was a big something.

“See you later, you little rascals,” Shea hollered goodbye to the kids in the truck. She turned back towards Rhys and, for a moment, she just looked at him, as if she were trying to solve a puzzle. Finally, she took the few steps towards him and spoke.

“So,” she began softly, “do you want to go to the Lone Pine with the others, or should I just take you to wherever you’re staying?”

“Were you going?” Rhys asked. “I’d like to buy you a drink. A truce.”

She didn’t want to. She was
afraid
to. Afraid to be with him. He could tell she just wanted to get the hell out of there, to leave him behind. But with a fortifying breath, she shrugged her shoulders and looked up at him with a challenging expression.

“Why not?” she murmured.

Chapter 7 ~ The Bar

The Lone Pine Bar was packed, something that usually only happened on Friday nights, Halloween, and New Year’s Eve. For a while, the discussion continued from the hall, Shea straining her ears to hear every word, to convince and sway the opinions around her. Rhys stayed close the whole time, causing her to feel jittery and off-balance. Before she realized it, as the crowd began to shift to more of a party atmosphere, she had anxiously sucked down three rum and Cokes.

"Watch out," Rhys said as he slipped his arm around the curve of her waist. "This guy needs to get by."

His hand slid softly down her spine to settle on the curve of her backside, and the touch of pressure brought her tightly up against him, eliciting a tremble that ran through her.

Shit!
 
The rum was going straight to her head. She stared up at him for a moment.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he murmured softly with a concerned smile.

Shea could feel the heat of his body, the softness of his flannel shirt. She could smell his enticing clean scent of soap and pine. His fingers shifted slightly where they rested, almost gripping, and the motion brought her a little closer even until her breasts were firmly pressed against his chest. Her breath caught in her throat at the flicker of heat in his eyes, and the rest of the bar seemed to fade as a tremor ran through her. Rhys dipped his head slightly, and Shea’s eyes drifted closed.

Oh my God, he was going to kiss her again.

Just before his lips could taste hers, Trinity came burrowing through the crowd, followed by a few of her barfly friends. “Hi, Rhys,” she smiled widely, noting that Rhys’ hand was firmly seated on Shea’s ass.

“Ladies…” Rhys winked at the girls, and all three broke out into nervous giggles. Shea pushed at him slightly, but he held her firm and looked back down at her with a stern shake of his head that stilled her and made her heart thud heavily in her chest. It unnerved her that she so quickly complied, and Shea took another long drink of her rum and Coke.

“Oh my God, Trinity,” one of them exclaimed a little too loudly as they disappeared back into the crowd. “You’re right. He’s amazing!”

“Wow!” the other chimed in with a squeal. “But what the hell is he doing with Shea?”

Rhys looked down at Shea as she scoffed at the comment.

“What’s wrong?” he laughed.

“My God, you’d think they’d never seen a dude before,” Shea grumbled as she reached for her fourth heavily-alcohol-laden drink, finishing it off and holding her glass up to the bartender to indicate the need for yet another.

“Are you jealous?” Rhys beamed as he studied her.

“No. Of course not,” Shea argued a bit breathlessly. “It’s just kind of disgusting the way every woman in this town seems to be throwing themselves at you. Even some of the married ones.”

“You
are
a little jealous, aren’t you?” he needled.

Shea grabbed her new rum and Coke, taking another long drink through the tiny straw as she looked up at him with a bit of annoyance. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she finally muttered, very unconvincingly.

“Well, would you like to know a secret?” Rhys teased, taking a sip of his beer. He set the bottle on the bar, and then reached his fingers up to trace the curve of her jaw. His hand was chilled from holding the cold bottle, and the cool touch tingled and teased her skin. “There’s only one woman in this town that has kept me awake at night.”

“What the hell?” Her eyes flew back up to his. “I barely know you. And you expect me to believe that you’re already sleepless over me? Me… little tomboy Shea.” She snorted in a rather unladylike fashion.

“Sweetheart, I don’t see you as a tomboy… at all. You are really pretty fucking hot, you know, with your lips that are just begging to be kissed. And, seriously, your body is killer.” The hand on her ass circled slightly with a caress, then gripped again and pulled her just that much closer. “And, last night, I could swear I heard you moan erotically in my dreams.”

Shea blanched, feeling as though she’d just been socked in the gut.
Oh my God! Had he heard her? No… no no no. Holy shit… Not good.

“I’m sure it was just my imagination, though… right?” he quietly said in a low, husky tone. His eyes burned with an intensity that called to her and caused a shiver to course through her body. He was effortlessly tearing down her defenses.

Shea took another drink, a longer drink. Her new one was almost half gone already, and the alcohol, along with his close proximity and his seductive words, was turning her legs to jelly.

“You’re kind of stuck in my head,” Rhys murmured softly and brushed his hand along the delicate curve of her ear.

“You’d have much better luck with some of the other ladies in town, you know,” Shea said softly. “I don’t do this. I don’t sleep around. I don’t want you.”

“I don’t think you’re being totally honest with me… or yourself.”

“Besides,” Shea continued, ignoring his words and trying hard not to feel what he was making her feel, “you don’t want me either. Not really. You’re just intrigued because I’m the only set of ovaries in town that doesn’t flutter my eyelashes at you and giggle incessantly.”

“You’re wrong, sweetheart. I do… I do really want you. I’m honestly not sure why I want you so much.” Rhys traced his fingertip down the curve of her neck, along the protruding collar bone to her shoulder. “You are infuriating,” he said softly, his voice almost a caress, an endearment as he tipped his head down to whisper against her skin. “You are stubborn and feisty. But, for some fucked up reason, I see your face when I close my eyes.” His lips tickled the sensitive skin behind her ear as his words flowed through her. “Maybe it is the challenge.”

The vulnerability she suddenly felt was terrifying, and Shea reached for her drink again.
Liquid courage
. Finishing off the drink, she looked back up at him, steeling herself enough to speak. “I need to go home.”

“You’ve drank five of those drinks in about thirty minutes. You shouldn’t be driving.” Rhys brushed his fingers along her cheek as his hooded eyes met her gaze. “Give me your keys, and I’ll drive you home.”

“You?” Shea put both hands out and pushed him back. Without his support, she weaved a little and stumbled back against the bar.
Damn, her motor skills were not at their best all of a sudden.
“I can’t trust you to drive. You’ll get my pickup stuck in the snow. Are you forgetting how we met? You’ll never make it all the way to my cabin.”

Rhys reached into her coat pocket and snatched her keys playfully, stepping back and holding them up out of her reach. “Then I’ll take you to mine.”

Shit. Not quite the answer she was looking for.

By the time they made it to his rental cabin, Shea’s head was literally spinning from all the booze. She didn’t drink often and was a little perturbed that she’d poured the shit down her throat tonight like she had. Especially now. Now that she was here, with him, at his cabin. Part of her figured she should run like hell. That this was
not
going to end well.

Shea glared at Rhys suspiciously across the cab of the truck.

“Well,” he threw a challenging smile back at her, “hop out.”

“I shouldn’t be here,” she frowned and looked out the passenger-side window into the dark.

“Then you shouldn’t have been chugging that rum at the bar,” he chuckled and opened the driver door.

With a heartfelt sigh of defeat, Shea opened her door and took a step out into the snow… and slipped and fell on her ass with a thud.
God! Could she truly embarrass herself any more tonight?
She flopped back to lay flat on the frozen ground and closed her eyes, willing the world away until she heard a crunch in the snow beside her. There stood Rhys, in all his super hotness glory, looking down at her with an entirely too amused grin on his face. She threw her arm over her eyes.

“Fuck,” she muttered.

“Would you like a little help, sweetheart?” His rich voice sent a ripple of longing through her, and every muscle deep inside her clenched tightly.
Yeah, way too much rum.
Maybe she should just sleep out here, in the snow. It would likely be safer than being in an enclosed space with him… all alone.

“Nope,” she mumbled, her voice thick from the booze, the embarrassment, and the tingling of lust deep inside her. “I think I’ll just hang out here for a while.”

A deep chuckle reverberated through him as he reached down and lifted her easily, cradling her against his broad chest.

“Sorry, Shea. You didn’t leave me in the snow, I’m not going to leave you in the snow either.”

The scent of pine and fresh air instantly enveloped her senses as her head lolled on his shoulder. Taking a deep breath, she tried to infuse the aroma into her brain.
Dammit. Why was this man so appealing?
She was normally so much better at keeping her distance, but he drew her in, pulled her with an invisible thread that was so fine, yet so strong.

Swinging the door open, a blast of warm air hit her as they entered the small cabin. Rhys flicked on the light switch which illuminated one of the lamps sitting on the nightstand. As much as she had been troubled by his close proximity, she immediately mourned the loss of his strength and heat when he put her down. He set her softly at the foot of the bed, his hand still around her back to steady her as she swayed slightly in the upright sitting position. His other hand reached up to dust some snow from her hair.

The low, warm light caressed his features, and his concerned eyes caught hers. Nervously, her tongue instinctively ran along her lips, drawing his gaze down for a moment. The intensity in his eyes as he looked back at her stopped her heart and caused a tremble to course through her.

"My God, you are a truly beautiful man," she murmured.

He smiled and shook his head. "You're truly drunk."