The Shifter Romances The Writer (Nocturne Falls Book 6) (11 page)

Something gleamed in his eyes. Almost like…gold. He tossed the crust of his pizza back into the box and stood.

He took her pizza and lemonade and set them aside, then pulled her to her feet to stand in front of him.

That put them face to face. It wasn’t a small hot tub, but it wasn’t an Olympic-sized swimming pool either. He felt very close. So close the only thing between them was a little air and a lot of temptation.

She tried to back up. And almost slipped.

Alex caught her and pulled her against him, his hands firm but gentle on her arms. “You okay?”

She nodded as she stared up at him, trying not to let his touch befuddle her any more than it already had. “I’m fine.”

“Good.” His hands disappeared beneath the water to rest on her hips. “Because I’m going to kiss you now. Unless you tell me otherwise.”

A tremor ran through her. Maybe from the boldness of his words. Maybe from the anticipation of what he’d just told her he was about to do. Maybe from the weight of his hands on her body. Probably from all three. She shook her head, hoping he understood that meant she wasn’t going to tell him no.

He got it. He bent down and put his mouth on hers in a kiss that was strong and sweet and deliciously wicked. She was half-naked, kissing a half-naked man in his hot tub. Her neighbor. The cop. The very sexy cop.

The heat of the water steaming up around them only made the kiss more intense. Her head swam with dizziness, like she’d gotten up too fast. She hadn’t been kissed in a long time. And she’d never been kissed like this.

Her hands slipped up to his thick biceps, in part to hang on to something and in part because she very much wanted to touch him.

His body was gloriously hard. Warmer than even the water should have made him. She sank against him just a little, which was all she dared.

Alex’s kiss held no obligation, no sense of duty. It wasn’t a token of a lukewarm relationship, it was the branding of something new and needful. Something as hot and urgent as the kisses in the books she wrote.

Kisses she’d always thought were just fiction. But this, she suddenly realized, was a real-life romance novel kiss. She gasped at that thought, breaking the kiss.

He ground his teeth together as if he was trying not to lose control, causing his voice to rasp out of him. “I shouldn’t have done that. But I guess if I was one of your romance heroes, I wouldn’t care about what I should and shouldn’t do.”

She shook her head, still lost in the moment. “No, Wolfgang wouldn’t have stopped.”

His answer held a pang of regret. “But I’m not Wolfgang. And you’re not Marabella.”

Her mouth opened in surprise. “How do you know the names of my characters?”

He looked a little sheepish. “My mother. And…I started reading one of your books. But the point is, we’re neighbors. This can’t end well.”

“No?”

He smiled sadly. “I guess it can. If we end it now. I’m sorry, that was foolish of me and—”

“I didn’t stop you.” But she knew he was right. The last thing she needed was to get involved with another man before her divorce was even over. Especially one who lived next door.

He put a little space between them. “It was still my fault. Do you forgive me?”

She laughed it off with a sound that rang false even to her ears. “There’s nothing to forgive. It was just a kiss. Nothing more, right?” Except it had been so much more.

“Right.” He nodded, the sadness in his smile extending to his gaze. Then his smile widened, obviously forced. “I really don’t want this to be weird. I like you. I like being friends with you. But maybe that’s not possible between a man and a woman. Platonic friendship, I mean.”

“So you don’t have any female friends?”

“I do, but…” His gaze fixed on her, and the spark of interest she’d seen before returned. “None that I find as irresistibly sexy as you.”

She glanced down at herself. “Are you seeing the same things I’m seeing?”

He sighed and sat back down on his side of the hot tub. “I am. But apparently I have a much greater appreciation for them.”

She retreated to her seat, tucking her knees under her.

“What did your ex do to you to make you think so little of yourself?”

She blinked hard as sudden, unbidden tears welled. The fact that her emotions would choose this moment to turn on her made her laugh. She wiped at her eyes. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“He sounds like an idiot.”

She glanced at Alex. “I haven’t said anything about him.”

“Part of my job is profiling people. And for a man to have made a smart, talented, beautiful woman like you think that you’re somehow less than that, he had to be a controlling, narcissistic jerk who clearly didn’t appreciate you and most likely couldn’t handle being married to a woman who was more successful than he was.”

Her brows lifted slightly. Alex wasn’t far off.

He stood enough to lean over and grab the pitcher of lemonade. “Am I right?”

She nodded, then realized he wasn’t looking at her. Which gave her a chance to appreciate how fine he was this close up. “Yes.”

He refilled their glasses. “And that’s a big part of why you don’t want to get involved again, I’m sure.”

“Right again. At least, not until I’ve had a chance to figure out who the real me is. I’d rather it not be the me Thomas turned me into, but more like the woman I pretend to be when I’m at conferences and fan events. I want to be her all the time. I want to be that confident about every part of my life.”

He sat down and took a long drink. “I have to tell you, I don’t know what that woman is like, but the Roxy I know is pretty spectacular.”

“You’re very flattering.”

He shook his head. “I’m very truthful. And you probably haven’t heard a lot of truth from a man in a while.”

She sighed. “No, I haven’t. It’s going to take some getting used to.”

“Then I guess we’d better stay friends.”

She smiled. “You realize that means no more kissing.”

He snorted. “You’re not going to let me forget about that, are you?”

“That’s what friends do.” She lifted one shoulder. “That and the fact that it’s going to be a hard kiss to forget. It’s been a while.”

His expression turned wry. “For me too.” He lifted the tumbler toward her. “To being friends.”

She clinked hers against it. “To being friends.”

But the truth was, if the kissing happened again, she wasn’t going to complain. In fact, she might if it didn’t.

Using a level of willpower Alex hadn’t known he possessed, he somehow made it through the rest of the evening without kissing Roxy again. He stood at his door, watching her walk back to her house, her shoes dangling from one hand and her sundress clinging to the dampest parts of her.

If he’d had that same amount of willpower the first time, the kiss never would have happened, but he hadn’t. And he was damn glad about it.

Truth was, he’d been powerless against the sight of her. She’d been there in his hot tub, steam curling up around her like she was some mystical goddess, her skin glistening with water, her eyes big and deep and impossible to look away from, her little black bikini hugging curves that could make a grown man weep.

His shifter brain had been focused on one thing and one thing only. Claiming the female in front of him. It was a base, animalistic urge. One he’d barely fought back enough to ask her permission before he’d kissed her. Those urges weren’t something he was necessarily proud of, but he was getting used to fighting them when he was around her. And he had no regrets that he’d kissed her.

Even if they were just friends until the day they died, he’d savor that moment. It had felt, for the briefest span of time, that they were meant to be.

He knew that was impossible. She was human, of course. But that feeling had created a spark in him that he would have to work very hard to keep from exploding into a full-blown bonfire. Because he wanted to kiss her again.

He wouldn’t. But he wanted to.

As she disappeared into the dark, he closed his door, grabbed his phone off the kitchen counter and walked to his bedroom. He stared at himself in his bathroom mirror, wondering what he looked like to her. She seemed to think he was attractive. He tried to take care of himself. Sure, his shifter genes made that easier, but he liked to think he put more effort into it than the average Joe.

After all, he was a cop, and that meant being stronger and faster than the bad guys. He sighed and rolled his shoulders and tried to stop himself from caring what Roxy thought.

What did it matter? She wasn’t meant for him. And even if she were a supernatural, she’d been pretty clear about wanting time to herself. Who could blame her after the nightmare of her ex? The thought of anyone, especially a man who was supposed to love her, treating her that way made Alex’s hands curl into fists.

A guy like that needed to learn a few hard lessons about how women ought to be cared for. Alex heard a snarl and realized it had come from him. He’d shifted into his half form without intending to.

He started to shake it off, then thought differently. It was late and plenty dark. Diego wouldn’t be home until his shift was over. There was no reason not to go for a run.

Besides, it might be the only way he could get Roxy out of his head enough to actually sleep tonight.

Morning came sooner than Roxy would have liked, but she had too much to do to lounge around in bed. Unfortunately. Because staying under the covers and dreaming about her hot but off-limits neighbor would be a very enjoyable way to spend a day. Though not nearly as enjoyable as spending the day in bed with the actual man.

She got up and got moving, but thoughts of Alex stayed with her throughout the morning, even making her lose track of her yoga routine as she went through her sun salutations. She refocused on what move came next. The man was the most tantalizing distraction she’d run into in a long time.

Her writer’s brain couldn’t help but think that she’d moved in next door to one of her heroes come to life. Wouldn’t that be funny?

Hmm. She pushed back into downward-facing dog. There was a book idea. Paranormal romance writer moves to a new town only to discover the world she’s been writing about has become reality. She snorted. Maybe that should be her next series.

She stepped forward into a half bend. Alex would definitely make a great paranormal hero. What kind would he be, though? She didn’t really see him as a vampire. A werewolf maybe? She stretched her arms out, swooping them up to come to a standing position.

Not a werewolf. He was too…sleek for that.
Sleek
wasn’t the right word, exactly. He had enough of that sexy-feral thing going on to be a were, but he’d be something more slinky. More subtle. Sexier even than a werewolf. But just as dangerous.

She dropped her hands and bent to roll up her yoga mat. She hadn’t done a big-cat were in a while. Maybe she’d use Alex as the basis for a were-lion.

She nodded. That would be hot.

Then again, maybe writing what essentially would be fan fiction about her neighbor wasn’t the healthiest way to stop thinking about him.

She sighed as she tucked her yoga mat back into the closet and headed to the shower. Kissing him was definitely going to be used as inspiration, but the rest of him…the rest of him would stay tucked away in her head for her private fantasizing only.