Lip Lock: Country Fever, Book 2 (19 page)

Drake’s grin dulled in brightness.

“What is it? You worried about driving?”

“No. It’s just that… My mom’s been really unhappy lately.”

“Me too, son. Me too. That’s what I intend to fix.”

Hayley kicked at a patch of dry grass on the edge of the road. At least she’d managed to ease her damn truck out of the line of traffic before it conked out. That thudding noise had alerted her in time. Thank God for little things.

But she was late for her new job. What employer would give her a second chance? She had all but shouted that she didn’t have reliable transportation and would probably let the restaurant down more than once.

Hell, she wouldn’t hire herself.

So now she was out of a job, had only given Steve a hundred bucks toward her rent, and wasn’t liable to receive payment for the collection she’d sold Andrea anytime soon.

And Brant was no longer in her life.

All her fault. The expression of pain on his face when he’d left her at the bed and breakfast would forever live in her mind. The dark, raw hurt in his eyes and the twist of his mouth.

She hadn’t seen him since. Now she had no idea how to breach the separation if she wanted to.

Did she want to?

As she stared at the great orange globe on the horizon, the answer was swift and powerful. Yes, she did want to mend their relationship.

But it hadn’t been much of a relationship, not really. She hadn’t given everything, withholding information right down to her address. Guarding it all close in order to guard her heart, even when she had no reason to do so. Brant had never hurt her. He shouldn’t have to pay for her ex’s shortcomings and sins.

She smacked the heel of her sneaker off the tire. To make her life worse, she’d had to call her son for rescue. Drake had handled her barely-controlled plea with calm, but she’d hated putting him in that position. He wasn’t a man—shouldn’t have to take care of her. She was the adult.

The breeze teased at the stray hairs on her forehead and around her ears. She tilted her face up to the sun and tried to inhale some calm. But it was short-lived as questions flipped through her mind. How was she going to afford another vehicle?

Anger simmered low in her core for Kent. If he’d only pay his child support, she wouldn’t be so strapped. She could easily manage rent. A car payment was a different story, but still—

The rumble of a truck greeted her ears. Whirling, she came face-to-face with a vehicle of the monster variety, complete with roll bars and off-road tires, painted a brilliant yellow with jagged black streaks on the front and washing back the sides, like mud that had been permanently smeared.

Shit. Just what she needed. Some chivalrous redneck, stopping to harass her into giving her a lift.

Her defenses shot up, her mouth opened on a refusal the minute the truck door opened.

And then she saw those shoulders—that chest—and all the air in her lungs whooshed from her.

Knees weak, pussy pulsing to life, she gaped at the man who was her knight in yellow armor. Brant.

Her hand flew up, bracing herself against him. But why? Wasn’t every cell of her being yearning toward him?

He came on toward her, moving with that predatory roll she recognized from the bedroom. Their gazes connected, familiar sparks flew.

“You all right, baby?”

Words sprang onto her tongue:
Don’t call me that
. But they died on her taste buds, acidic against the bittersweet tears that clogged her throat. Damn him for making her feel this way—for making her feel so much.

Then suddenly he was there, arms around her, musky scent filling her nose, rough lips claiming hers. He once again shoved her against a vehicle, as he was so fond of doing.

He devoured her whimper in a harsh kiss. Her nipples prickled into two straining nubs. Without meaning to, she clasped his nape and held him to her mouth, matching his kiss stroke for stroke.

His arousal lay against her belly, thick and wanting. Too easily she imagined it in her mouth, between her legs.

A shudder coursed through her, and he gripped her tighter, drawing her onto the toes of her worn sneakers, almost lifting her off her feet.

She tore her mouth away.

“I’m taking you home. I’ve got a tow truck on the way.”

She shook her head. “I’ll ride with the driver.”

“Like hell. Hayley, get in my truck. We’re going to talk. And then I’m going to fucking kiss you like that again, but increase the heat by about a thousand degrees.” The look on his face—hungry determination—laid the foundation of his promise.

Sensation stole up her thighs and throbbed in her pussy. She was already soaking from his kiss.

He reached for her hand, but she stuck it into her jeans pocket. “Fine. Just get in,” he said.

What choice did she have? She reached inside her truck and plucked her purse off the seat. Then, looping the strap across her body, she followed Brant up the berm to his truck.

Climbing in took some effort, as the chrome pipe running board was almost waist-high. Where the hell did he store such a thing?

“Don’t tell me—another of your friend’s vehicles?” Her tone accused.

He looked right at her. “No. And I lied about that. They’re all my vehicles. So I have too many. What else is a bachelor with a sizable six-figure income supposed to spend his money on when his woman won’t let him spend it on her?”

Instant tears sprang to her eyes.
His woman
. Did he still think of her that way?

When she didn’t respond, still stunned, he took her silence as disapproval. “Look, Hayley, I’m sorry I wasn’t truthful.”

She tangled her fingers in her lap. That tone—the low, sweet one he used after making love to her—challenged her control. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be in his lap, kissing the hell out of him.

Would that be so bad?
a little voice croaked deep in her soul.

Across the cab, she stared at him, the dry well of her being flooding at once with emotion.

“Fuck, baby. Come here.” He dove for her, grabbed her out of her seat and drew her until she lay across his lap. His eyes were blue fire, and she couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d asked her to be part of his life forever…and she’d run away.

With a sound breaking in his chest, he buried his face in her hair. “God, you feel so perfect here in my arms. The time without you has been like a prison term. I’ve been eating bread and water after tasting the manna from heaven. Don’t walk away from me, Hayley. Talk to me about what’s in your heart.”

Suddenly, the urge to spill it all grew inside her. But she couldn’t force out the words.

Finally, Brant released a long sigh, ruffling her hair. He held her away from him enough to meet her gaze. “I’ll tell you what I know and what I think.”

A severe case of the shakes seized her. She tensed her muscles against it, but he continued to hold her against him.

“I know that I own the building where you live—and that you’re behind in your rent. I also know I don’t give a damn if you ever pay that rent. If you want to go on living there for free, it’s fine by me. I know that if you’re having difficulty paying your rent, you’re in bigger trouble now that your truck needs repairs. Which is why Drake is sitting at home right now, with one of my vehicles in the lot.”

Shock zipped along her spine. “What?”

“He drove it home for you—”

“He doesn’t have a license!” She struggled to sit up, and he allowed her a small amount of space to do so.

“He was a brilliant and very safe driver. I followed him the whole way. And Hayley, you’re going to borrow that car for as long as you need. Indefinitely. I don’t care. I only wish you’d drive it home and park it in my garage—and yourself in my bed—at night.” He stared at her until her toes curled. Dropping his voice, he said, “And now for what I think. I think you’re in love with me but too frightened to admit it.”

She pushed against his chest. Too much. It was too much. She couldn’t lose control this way. Control was all she fucking had in this world.

Tears spurted from the corners of her eyes, and she slid into her seat with a thump. Through a thickened throat, she said, “I need to think about all of this, Brant. I need some time.”

He shifted the truck into gear. “Sweetheart, I’ll give you all the time you need. As long as you realize where my heart lies—and that is with you. And Drake.”

A small part of the dam she’d built around her heart long ago broke free in the flood of emotion his words evoked. Adding her son practically sealed the deal for her, and Brant Foxfire fucking knew it.

Chapter Fifteen

Brant had been driving for five hours. After going over and over what he and Hayley had talked about last night, he’d climbed into his Mustang this morning and driven north with the intention of going to his ranch.

But too many memories of Hayley were now associated with his haven, so he’d turned the car east and driven another spell. He traversed country roads, interstates with wild game grazing along the sides, and city streets. Searching. For what?

Something, anything to ease this pain and get her out of his blood. But there was no running from his feelings when it came to Hayley Graff. His soul had swallowed that little blonde bombshell whole when he first saw her.

Now it was too late to evict her. She was part of him, and while he’d made no bones, spurs or country miles about what he wanted from her, she had still slipped out of his truck and gone inside her apartment, never looking back.

And here he was again, facing another day without her. Today he couldn’t pretend that he was okay.

Running a trembling hand over his face, he stared at the highway. She had his cell number. If she wanted to talk, she’d contact him. But she must not want to talk.

He guided his car off an exit ramp. If he was going to continue driving, he needed to refuel, and more than his car. He required the use of the restroom and maybe an energy drink. He was still hours from home, and he was flagging.

He drew up beside the pump and stretched his legs onto the pavement, feeling the effects of sitting still so long. Christ, now he was feeling old on top of unloved and lonely.

While pumping gas, he let his car door stand open. Suddenly, he detected the low vibration of his phone lying on the passenger seat. A call.

Heart surging, he dove into his car. The unit skittered off the seat and onto the floor. He scrambled for it, flipped it open, and was yelling “hello” at the thing before he had it to his ear.

Hayley’s frantic voice filled his head, breathless and tear-clogged. “Brant! It’s me. I need help.”

His chest burned, and his mouth filled with the bright, coppery taste of terror. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“No. I mean yes. It’s not me, it’s Drake! Brant, you have to come and help me. I’m so sorry about everything. I’ll do anything. Sell everything I have to pay for the surgery—”

“Wait. What the hell happened?” A dozen scenarios flashed through his mind, including Drake taking the Nissan for another solo ride and crashing.

He jumped out of the car to his feet, feeling cramped between the car and the pump, wishing he could run, tear out of there and burn up tires, anything to close the distance between him and Hayley.

“They’re taking him to the hospital. I’m leaving the field now—”

“The ball field?”

“Yes. Brant, it’s bad. He took a ball to the mouth, and…” An agonizing moment passed while she sobbed in his ear, the sounds wrenching him to the hollow of his gut. “His front teeth…gone. His jaw…broken. Please, Brant. Please come.”

He squeezed off the last drop of gasoline from the pump and was in the driver’s seat before his receipt printed. His arms ached to wind around her, hold her close even as his technical brain worked out what would need to be done for Drake.

“Baby, I’m so sorry I’m not in the area.”

“What? You’re not?” Her voice was thick and nasal.

“No, I’ve been driving, just thinking. I’m three hours from Reedy, but when I get there, sweetheart, I’ll fix Drake up. I’m going to get off the phone with you for a few minutes and call into the hospital so they do the right things for Drake. Were the teeth found?”

“Yes, with the braces still attached. Oh, Brant.” His name wobbled into his ear. “I’m so very sorry for the way I left things last night. I was terrified, but not of you. Of the things you make me feel. I needed some time to reflect on everything.”

“Don’t think about it now. We’ll talk later. I’m calling the hospital and pressing down this gas pedal. I’ll be with you in two and a half hours, if I can help it.”

“Okay.” A pause, and then, “Brant, I love you. And not just because you can fix up my son.”

A chuckle rumbled in his throat, low and filled with joy. “I know, baby. I’ll be there as soon as I can. And don’t even think that I won’t give you a paddling for making me wait to hear those words.”

Two excruciating hours passed while Hayley paced the waiting room. Drake was in good hands—Brant’s hands. He’d fix her boy up. And then she could go about mending the rift between them. When he’d walked into the hospital, long legs carrying him swiftly to her, she’d had only a second to throw her arms around him.