Waking Hearts (6 page)

“Don’t mind helping out,” he said quietly. “Anything you need.”

The corner of her mouth twitched and she peeked up at him. “Maybe start talking in complete sentences instead of grunts when you come over? If you’re gonna work on that ‘not being an asshole’ thing with me.”

His eyes slid to hers, quiet humor crinkling the corners. “I’ll see what I can do.”

That low rumble of a voice about did in the last of her restraint, and Allie was seconds away from blurting something ridiculous when she heard the screen door slam and Sean Quinn stepped onto the porch.

He’d returned to town the year before, right after his cousin Marcus had been killed, but Allie knew Sean was still debating whether or not he would stay in the Springs or drift away again. He wasn’t a settled guy like Ollie.

What he was, was trouble.

A wicked smile curved the corners of Sean’s mouth when he spotted the two of them, and he ran over, scooping Allie off the porch and into his arms.

“No!” he yelled. “She’s the last single one. You can’t have her, Smokey!”

Allie started laughing, half-relieved that Sean had interrupted what likely would have been an embarrassing scene, half-irritated he’d likely throw out his back carting her around.

“Sean, put me down!”

“Nope.”

“I’m too heavy.”

“Please.” He pinched her thigh. “You’re what the old man would call ‘a tasty bit.’”

A low growl came from the porch.

“Sean.” She dropped her voice. “Put me down.”

He stopped halfway to the garage and set her on her feet. “Did I piss you off? I was just playing.”

“I know.” And flirting with her, making her feel like a girl instead of a mom, which was a nice change. “But I think Ollie was worried you were going to drop me.”

“Sir Growls-a-Lot over there?” Another sharp grin cracked his face. “I don’t think he was worried I was going to drop you, Al.”

“Whatever. It’s not smart to poke a bear.”

“Yeah?” He bent down and wrapped an arm around her waist, dropping a kiss on her cheek in the process. “Well, it’s not good to take a fox for granted, either.”

Allie frowned. “I don’t—”

“Think about it.” He started walking back to the house. “And come back in the kitchen. Alex and Ted brought ice cream.”

A door slammed in the distance, and she knew that by the time she walked back to the porch, Ollie would be gone.

THERE was a rap at the door the next day, just after her dad had rolled away from the front door with all four kids on the way to school and Allie was putting another load of laundry in the wash.

“Who forgot lunch?” she muttered, checking the kitchen counters to see which lunch bag hadn’t made it into a backpack. Hmm. None there. She answered the door, surprised to see Ollie on her porch.

“Hey! I was expecting a forgetful child. What’s up?”

“Needed to talk to you.”

The bar was closed on Mondays. And why wouldn’t he have just called?

“Okay.”

She was just about to motion him in when Ollie stepped back and nodded to the old Bronco in the driveway.

“What’s going on?”

“Pop wants to have a word. About Joe.”

She let out a breath. “Right.”

“Do you have time? I thought the kids would all be in school.”

She nodded. “Just give me a minute. I need to hang some laundry before it spoils.”

The dryer had been one of the first things she gave up when money got tight. It only heated up the house in the summertime, and the dry air made hanging the wash more practical than wasting money on electricity.

“I’ll help.”

“That’s all right!”
Oh, please no.
“I’ll just be a minute.”

“It’ll be faster if I help.” He stepped off the porch and headed to the backyard. “I have hung laundry before.”

Allie watched him go. “Okay then.”

So what if most of this load was her underwear and nightgowns? It wouldn’t be the first time Ollie had seen a woman’s underwear. Of course, it was the first time he’d seen
her
underwear, but she refused to be embarrassed about it.

After all, she had nothing to be ashamed of. Pretty undies were Allie’s one vice. No granny panties for this girl, no matter how many kids she had. She’d thrown out every bit of underwear or lingerie that Joe had ever seen or touched, so everything she had was new, and it was all a little indulgent, thanks to her sisters and a very nice shopping spree.

Allie wore lace, and she slept in silk.

She picked up the basket of damp clothes and walked out to the clothesline to see Ollie staring at a scrap of pink lace that was fluttering in the breeze. His hands were clenched at his sides, and there was a tinge of red on his cheeks above his beard.

Allie didn’t say a word, just put down the basket and grabbed one of the pins from the hanging bag. She pulled out a purple pair of panties and hung them, careful not to snag the delicate material. After a frozen minute, Ollie silently reached down and grabbed the first thing he touched, which ended up being a blue silk nightgown with white lace trim.

“Make sure you use the plastic pins, not the wooden ones.”

He cleared his throat. “Okay.”

“Splinters.”

“Seriously?” he muttered under his breath.

“Would you like splinters in your butt when you put your undies on in the morning?”

“My boxers aren’t as… tight as these.”

And now she was thinking about him in boxers.
Just
boxers.

“Well, girls don’t wear boxers.”

“Maybe they should consider it,” he growled.

“What would be the fun in that?”

Ollie pulled another nightgown from the basket as Allie hung the matching purple bra. She saw Ollie eyeing it from the side, and when he reached down, he froze. There were no more nightgowns. The only thing left in the basket was a pile of bras and panties. Mostly panties.

“Shit.”

Allie bit her lip to keep from laughing. She might not have been a tall exotic beauty like the girls Ollie dated, but her lingerie game was on point. That had to count for something.

“It’s just underwear, Ollie. Everybody wears it.”

“No.” He straightened, a pair of black lace panties dangling from one finger.
 

She had to admit they were small. Even by her standards.
 

His eyes were angry, and he sounded pissed off. “Not everyone wears
these
.”

She batted her lashes. “They do if they like silk.”

He glanced at the clothesline where Allie had already hung most of her bras. “Is all your underwear like this?”

“You’re the one who offered to help.”

“Is it?”

“Pretty much.”

He took a deep breath. “So, when you’re at work in your jeans and T- shirts…?”

“Yep.”

His eyes finally raked down her body with a surge of awareness in his eyes. She might have been wearing cutoff shorts and an old concert tee, but she’d never felt more naked in her life.

His eyes finally landed somewhere around her hips. “What—?”

“Polka dots,” she whispered. “Pink.”

He stopped breathing for a second, then he spun on his heel and marched out of the backyard. “I need to call my grandmother. I told her I’d pick up a pie at the diner. I should—shit!” He’d tripped over one of the kids’ bikes and banged his shin. “I should… find out what kind she wants. Or something.”

Well, how about that? A fox
could
make a bear run away. As long as that fox was wearing polka-dot panties.

Chapter Four

THERE WAS ONLY SO MUCH one man could take.

That… ridiculous excuse for underwear was crossing the line. Ollie stomped across the gravel driveway and slammed the door on the Bronco. He closed his eyes and willed the image of pink polka dots away while he put the key in the ignition and turned the air-conditioning up full blast.

Pink polka dots. And purple silk. Black lace.

If he’d ever imagined Allie in her underwear—which yes, he could admit happened regularly—he’d always imagined her in something sweet. Soft pastel cotton. Maybe with a little bow or two. Or… flowers. Cute, practical underwear he’d tease her about when he finally got to see it.

He groaned. “I’m screwed.”

There was nothing sweet or cute or practical about the string of temptation waving in Allie’s backyard. What if her neighbors saw it? If any of them were male, he might have to kill them for looking. Shouldn’t she be hanging those inside or something? He lowered his head against the steering wheel.

It was useless. He was doomed. She’d come into work every night and he’d be seeing nothing but black lace under her jeans. She might as well come in naked.

And that thought wasn’t helping the situation in his jeans.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, but every time he did, all he saw was Allie in lingerie. He’d always scoffed at men who got excited about their women in lingerie. In Ollie’s opinion, there wasn’t much sexier than
naked
. And lingerie got in the way of naked.

Now he realized it wasn’t about the sex, it was about imagining your girl walking around all day—going to work, making dinner, running errands—with that sexy secret under her clothes, just waiting for you to unwrap it when you got her alone. Like a Christmas present you got to open every damn night.

And now she’d flashed him a peek at a present. And it wasn’t his to unwrap. Torture.

His phone rang on the seat beside him.

“Yeah?”

“Is that any way to talk to your grandmother?”

Ollie winced. “Sorry, Yaya.”

“Is Allie coming over?”

He gritted his teeth. “Yeah, she’s hanging some wash right now.”

His
abuela
gave an approving cluck. “I knew I liked that girl. Very smart. Why do people use the machines when it’s so warm out? When I was a girl, no one would buy them because they were a waste of money.”

When you were a girl, they didn’t make underwear that only covered half your ass, was made of black lace, and needed to be hidden from the neighbors.

Or maybe they did. He really didn’t want to know.

“I’m running by the diner. What kind of pie do you want me to pick up for you and Pop?”

“Coconut cream if they have it. Otherwise whatever berry pie they have.”

“How about I get you both?”

“
Oso
, you’ll have your grandfather losing the last of his teeth with all the sugar. It’s not good for him.”

Why did he find his yaya’s nagging so amusing? Her natural form might have been a bobcat, but she chirped like a bird. And she was the closest thing to a mother he’d ever had.

“Love you, Yaya. I’m getting you two pies.”

“Just bring Allie. Does she have the baby with her?”

He smiled. “The ‘baby’ is in kindergarten now.”

“No!”

“Yep.”

“Then swing by and get the Crowe girl too. They’re friends and she has the new baby. There are too many old people around here.”

“I have to go.” He saw Allie come through the front door, turning and locking it before she slid her sunglasses on and walked toward the truck. “You can visit Jena and her baby another time. Pop wants to talk to Allie about her ex.”

“Oh,” his grandmother said. “That’s a bad business.”

“I know.”

“I’m glad she’s away from that man now. He was never good for her.”

“Yaya…”

“You know what I think. Don’t waste time. Some other man is going to scoop that one up. Don’t be lazy again,
Oso
.”

Allie was trying to open the door, but it was a sticky bastard.

“I really have to go. See you soon.” He hung up and jumped out of the truck, walking around to pull the door open. “Sorry about that. I’m still working on this door.”

She looked up and he could see the sheen of sweat on her upper lip. It was already well into the nineties. Despite that, her smile hinted at mischief.

“Thanks.” She hopped into the Bronco. “Do you think your pop is going to want to talk long? I don’t want my panties to get bleached.”

Ollie muttered under his breath, glad he’d walked behind the truck so she didn’t see him trip.

He put the truck in reverse and backed slowly away from her house and all her underwear.

“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

Her cheeks were pink. “Maybe a little.”

“YOU’RE part of the wolf clan,” Ben Campbell said gently. “But you are coming to us?”

“The McCanns are my mother’s clan and… I do feel a connection with them. But Alex is already helping me with so much. And he’s in the public eye now.” She glanced over her shoulder at Ollie. “I trust Ollie and your family. If anyone can find out what Joe was mixed up in, it’s you guys.”

“You realize that what you’re asking might not put your ex-husband in any kind of good light. Are you sure you want to know? Are you sure your children need that shadow over their father’s memory?”