Tempt Me Tonight (24 page)

“Joe?”

“Bye, Dad,” she said, then rushed out onto the front porch and down the walk before he could stop her.

She looked up to find the hottest man she’d ever seen leaning up against the hottest car she’d ever seen. Wow. Joe wore dark jeans and a fitted black tee tucked behind his belt buckle, but loose around his hips—his arms were crossed, and the coiled part of the cobra edged his sleeve. His thick hair could have used a trim, but she liked it that way, and he hadn’t shaved, but she liked that, too. Behind him, a dark pearl red convertible roadster glistened in the rays of the setting sun. Taking in the car’s sexy curves and flawless gleam, she could almost feel Joe’s years of painstaking work.

“Hey, cupcake,” he said in his deep, seductive voice.

Her heartbeat sped up. “Hey.”

He gave her a slight, playful grin. “I was gonna come to the door, you know. I’m not afraid of the big, bad wolf.”

She glanced back toward the house. “I just thought I’d save us the trouble.” Then she switched her focus to the Cobra. “It’s beautiful, Joe.” Getting closer, she spied soft black leather seats and lots of little round gauges on the flat dashboard.

Joe looked lovingly on the car. “She’s my baby,” he admitted, gently running his hand along the fender in a way that made Trish suspect he didn’t even realize he was doing it. “Aren’t you, girl?”

She raised her eyebrows at him, amused.

And a soft laugh rose from his throat. “Hey, some guys name their penises. I occasionally talk to my car.”

She smiled, thinking that when he put it like that, it sounded perfectly reasonable.

When he opened the door for her, she got in to find a familiar cowboy hat in the passenger seat.

“I brought you a hat. My sister says you have to have a hat in a convertible if you have long hair or it beats you to death in the wind and gets tangled.”

Trish grinned at his thoughtfulness. She’d had the same thought, so had stuffed a ponytail holder in her purse, but she liked wearing Joe’s hat better, even if it was a little big on her. She pushed it down on her head and checked her look in the side mirror as he walked around the car.

Backing out of her parents’ driveway with Joe in the most perfect little red sports car ever created felt kind of like seeing him that first time a week ago—surreal. But tonight, it was surreal in a good way, a
dreamy
way. Trish didn’t often feel dreamy, but…well, Joe affected her like no other man.

The Cobra hugged the winding country roads lined with tall green grasses, summer thick trees, and miles of fencing. Tim McGraw’s voice echoed from the radio, declaring that he may be a real bad boy but that he was also a real good man. And Trish felt happier inside than she had in a very long time. Maybe coming home to Eden hadn’t been such a horrible thing, after all.

Joe had offered to take her anywhere she wanted, but she’d chosen the Burger Barn. Not that Eden had any five-star restaurants, and not that he’d know what to order in one, anyway—so her choice was fine with him. Even though she told him as they drove that she’d just had a burger from the barn for lunch that day.

“And you want another one?”

She’d just smiled. “I think I forgot how much I like greasy food.”

The truth was, Joe had never eaten in the Cobra before—nor had he let anyone else eat in it, either. But for Trish—hell, she could do anything she wanted in his car.

They ran into Kenny and Debbie, on their way for pool night at the Last Chance—they’d pulled over when they’d seen Joe parking the Cobra in a back corner of the drive-in’s lot. Kenny totally blew Joe’s cool, nonchalant attitude when he said, “You must rate, Trish. He doesn’t let people eat in the Cobra.”

She covered her pretty mouth in horror, swallowing the bite of burger she’d just taken. “I’m sorry, Joe. I had no idea.”

“That rule only applies to some people,” he assured her, glaring at Kenny. “You’re neater than him. Eat up.”

“You guys coming to pool night?” Debbie asked, clutching Kenny’s arm at Trish’s side of the car.

Joe exchanged looks with his date. He had zero interest in pool night given the alternative, but if Trish wanted to hang at the Last Chance, he’d be agreeable. He couldn’t read her expression, so replied, “Who knows. Could be we’ll end up there.”

“I’d prefer you didn’t,” Kenny said dryly. “I need to regain the respect of my pool buddies.”

Joe leaned back slightly, offering a smug grin. “Oh yeah, that’s right—I kicked your ass last week. Tell you what—I’ll stay clear of the Last Chance for now. Until the next time I think you need your ass kicked, that is.”

The two of them traded jabs and bragging for a few minutes while the girls just rolled their eyes, and Joe couldn’t help thinking—
Man, this is nice. This is how I always imagined it, how it was supposed to be.

But he guessed it was pretty damn early to start feeling that confident or comfortable with Trish. She’d be going home soon. And sure, he was glad they’d finally cleared the air about their breakup, but he knew this wasn’t going anywhere. Despite how Trish waffled between being the country girl he remembered and the city woman she’d grown into, he knew that city woman was only on vacation right now, and that what was happening between them might be
real,
but it was also
temporary.

And maybe, realistically, that was for the best. It had been a hell of a long time since he’d thought beyond the next day or week, and when he did, it was work-related—not about a woman. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her—God knew he did. Just yesterday, he’d been hellbent on getting closer to her. But…he’d learned some stuff about himself since he’d known Trish, stuff that made him think that…well, despite what Beverly might believe, he wouldn’t exactly be a great catch for
anyone
when it came to seriously sharing a life, being in a real relationship.

He didn’t let himself think about that part of his existence much, didn’t allow his brain to go there, since it was something he couldn’t fix and had to live with, but he could only guess that contemplating serious life changes—even ones that weren’t gonna happen—brought that kind of stuff to the surface, like it or not. He didn’t want to let it cloud his thoughts right now, though—no way. So he pushed it aside and concentrated on the blonde in the seat next to him. Things were too good here, and he didn’t want to squander even one second with her.

After their friends departed, Kenny promising they’d meet again over pool cues real soon, Joe found himself watching Trish eat, shoving fries into her dainty mouth and taking heaping bites of the burger—and he couldn’t help smiling. He’d known for years about Trish being a big-city lawyer, and he’d figured she’d changed completely. Until a few days ago, he couldn’t have pictured her still being down-to-earth enough to eat greasy French fries in a car, even a car as nice as his.

“What?” she asked, catching his look.

“Nothing. Just watching you eat.”

She blinked. “Why? Is there ketchup on my face or something?”

He laughed lightly. “No, cupcake—all clear on the ketchup. Guess I was just thinking how different this must be than what you’re used to.”

She tilted her head, looking damn cute in his hat. “What do you mean?”

“In the city,” he explained. “I just don’t imagine you wearing cowboy hats and eating fast food every day.”

She looked at once sheepish but defiant. “I can be flexible.”

“In more ways than one,” he assured her, enjoying the slight blush that climbed her cheeks. “I like you this way. I like finding out you’re still a country girl at heart.”

She turned to stare at him. “I wouldn’t go
that
far.”

He lowered his chin, teasing her. “Aw, come on. I saw you stack that hay like a pro—like you never left Eden.”

She shrugged. “I like to think I’m multifaceted. But the fact is, I’m a city girl now, Joe. This is just…a break.”

Yeah, just as he’d thought. And as he’d just concluded, that was okay—wasn’t it? Because this was temporary.
Get that through your head, buddy.
“You’re happy then,” he asked, “living in Indy, being a lawyer?”

She nodded, popping two more thin fries into her mouth. “I’m very good at what I do.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Trish had always done well at anything she tried. But he couldn’t help wondering, just from something in her tone, if she really
enjoyed
her job. “So when you’re a defense attorney, are most of the people guilty—or innocent?”

“Some of both.” Yet her voice softened as she admitted, “Mostly guilty, though. I work at a prestigious firm with a good track record, and we’re known for getting people off whose cases seemed hopeless. I guess we draw a lot of guilty people who figure we’re their only chance.”

“That sounds hard, defending criminals day in and day out.”

“It’s just about winning,” she replied. “That’s how you have to look at it. You have to be a competitive person, that’s all.” She spoke with full confidence, but he couldn’t help noticing what was missing—the little light that shone in her eyes when she was excited about something.

“And
sometimes
you get innocent clients,” she added, and there it was—the light came back and those green eyes sparkled. “And if you can get someone off who didn’t do it, that makes it all worthwhile. Like right now, I’ve got this college kid accused of rape. But he says he’s innocent and I believe him, and I’m pretty sure I can point the evidence toward the guy who
really
did it. My guy’s got his whole life ahead of him, a bright future, so when I win his case—well, it’ll be worth any…discontent I may feel over defending people who should be going to jail.”

Discontent, huh? “I thought there
wasn’t
any discontent. I thought it was just about winning.”

She smiled. “
Touché.
And objection. Argumentative.”

“Overruled,” he said without missing a beat, making her laugh. Then he tilted his head and peered into her eyes. “You know, it’s kinda hard to picture you raking some hard-ass criminal over the coals on the witness stand.” When she’d left here, she’d had no plans to study law and it had come as a big surprise when he’d heard about it.

“You’d be surprised how tough I can be.” She smiled, no spite in her expression, but he wondered if he’d had some unwitting hand in toughening her up. Then his brain shot to the image of her coming to his house and shoving him back onto his couch and riding him to heaven. Definitely bolder now, his Trishy. In a lot of ways.

When they finished eating, Joe shoved all their empty containers in the Burger Barn bag and walked them to the nearest trash can. Friday night, and it was getting dark, the lot beginning to fill with teenagers, and as he strode back toward the Cobra and saw Trish sitting in the passenger seat, he no longer wanted to be here. He wanted to get her alone.

“Want to go for a drive, cupcake?” It was a perfect night for a convertible—late August and warm, but the humidity hadn’t returned after the frost. That and the rain had combined to make the air feel fresh, brand new.

When she nodded, he asked, “Anyplace special you want to go?”

She simply shrugged, her gaze sexy, inviting. “Surprise me.”

And as her look spiraled straight to his groin, he knew
exactly
where he was taking her.

“Um, what are we doing
here?
”

Joe glanced over at her as he eased the Cobra along the narrow road that led to Crescent Lake. “Guess you legal types would say returning to the scene of the crime.”

Her sheepish grin reminded him of the way she’d looked as a girl. Or maybe it was just the setting, the dark foliage dipping heavy on both sides of the car, the chirps of crickets in the trees surrounding them. “Except we never…you know,” she reminded him. “So what would be the crime?”

“We did a lot of
other
good stuff here that felt pretty damn naughty at the time.”

“Yes, we did,” she nearly purred, and her sensuous tone said she was remembering exactly the same things
he
was—hot nights, his hands, her body, those very first discoveries. And the sexy timbre of her voice reminded him of something else, too. Yeah, he liked seeing the old Trish in her, but this new, grown-up Trish—she was
hot.
She knew what she liked. She wasn’t afraid of it. And he grew harder behind his zipper with each passing second
because
of it.

“And besides,” he added, “it’s never too late.”

A trill of laughter echoed through the dark. “You think we’re going to have sex
here,
surrounded by a bunch of high-schoolers out on hot dates—and in a convertible, no less?”

He flashed a knowing look, letting just a small grin leak through. “No more high-schoolers making out at the lake. When too many girls started turning up pregnant, the cops cracked down a few years ago and ran everybody away. Nobody comes here anymore.” With that, he eased the Cobra off the road into a flat, grassy area where the water, shimmering beneath the light of the moon, came into view through tall pine trees. He killed the engine, leaving no noise but the softly playing radio and the night sounds beyond the car. It was the exact spot where they’d parked years ago. “Which means we’re alone.”

Even in the dark, he could see her expression—tempted yet skeptical. “You
think
we’re alone. You can’t know for sure.”

He tilted his head. “Take a chance, cupcake.”
Let me take you for a whole different kind of ride, honey.

Next to him, Trish gave her lower lip a sensual little bite, and he suddenly regretted that the Cobra’s center console was so damn thick—wider than in most cars. But he reached for her anyway, sliding one palm onto her thigh through her thin skirt and skimming smoothly upward.

She instantly shifted toward him, parting her legs slightly. He swallowed hard but had no time to absorb the simple pleasure of her move before she reached down, covered her hand with his, and guided his touch swiftly higher, between her legs. He groaned and she sighed, and he thought he’d burst the zipper on his jeans—and oh
yeah,
he liked grown-up Trish
a lot.