kisser? Would his lips taste like the beer in the glass on the table? Would his tongue?
If she didn’t know it was physically impossible, Brynna would have sworn her heart turned completely over in her chest at the thought. The temperature in the room seemed to double. She found it difficult to breathe and inhaled quickly through parted lips.
Dev obviously noted her sharp intake of breath, the parting of her lips, the rise of her chest, and his gaze, glittering with masculine interest, dropped to her breasts before he dragged it back to her mouth. The smile had disappeared from his lips, and his perusal was now surprisingly serious. Had he been imagining kissing her, too?
She didn’t want to let go of his hand, and he didn’t seem inclined to break the contact either. She felt like clinging to him, and it was a good thing the table was between them or she’d have embarrassed herself by pressing against his body and melding into him. Remembering the solid strength of his arms and chest as they’d danced that last dance made her head a little dizzy.
The waitress set down a full glass and a fresh pitcher of beer. Reluctantly, they broke the contact of their entwined fingers, and Dev placed money on the tray. The girl thanked him and picked up Brynna’s empty glass.
Brynna glanced at the gimlet, a lime twist perched on the rim. No wonder she was feeling light-headed. She’d had too many drinks. Obviously the liquor had gone straight to her head for her to be having the dangerous and uncharacteristically erotic thoughts she’d been having about the man sitting across from her.
“I think I’ve had enough,” she said.
When she looked up again, Dev’s brows were drawn together in a question—or was that disappointment?
“Drinks,” she clarified.
His expression smoothed into a lazy smile. “We could order coffee,” he suggested. When she didn’t readily agree, he added, “Or go outside for air.”
As if only just noticing where they were, she glanced around. They’d been sitting here holding hands and staring at each other like googly-eyed teenagers, but thank goodness, the back of the booth where Dev sat prevented almost everyone in Joe’s Bar from seeing them. Brynna didn’t want to part company just yet, and fresh air would probably do her good.
“Okay.” She stood and led the way through the dimly lit room to the table where her friends were sharing a basket of buffalo wings. Rae Ann was missing, and Brynna spotted her on the dance floor. “We’re going for a walk,” she said to Emma and the other two nurses.
Emma reached under the table, brought up Brynna’s backpack and gave the couple an innocent smile, but Brynna knew as soon as the door closed behind them, tongues would wag. “See you later,” Emma said.
As soon as Dev touched the small of her back, guiding her toward the exit in a decidedly possessive male way, a shiver ran up her spine. He grabbed a black Stetson from a row of similar hats on hooks, slowed to allow Joe, the resident rottweiler who guarded the door, to sniff them as they passed, then held open the door.
The air was damp, but cool, the refreshing summer scent bringing with it a sense of starting over. The dark shiny pavement indicated it had rained while they’d been inside Joe’s.
Dev took her bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Which way?”
She didn’t want him to think she was inviting him to her place, which was straight ahead down State Street—and which was what she would really have liked to have done—so she pointed left on Main. “That way.”
“You live alone?” he asked after they’d walked a few paces.
She nodded.
“Have family in Rumor?”
“My younger sister Melanie and her family live west on Logan. She’s married and has two boys. My brother Kurt just turned twenty-four, and he’s the pharmacy tech at Value Drug Store. My little brother Tuck is nineteen and stays with each of us off and on. He’ll be going to college in the fall.”
Right next to Joe’s was the Rumor Motel, and as they passed, Brynna thought maybe it would have been better to go the other way. Dev might think she was hoping for an invitation.
If he thought anything, Dev didn’t reveal it or react; he simply walked on past the Rooftop Café and led her across the street where they turned and strolled toward the library.
“What about you?” she asked. “Family?”
“My cousin runs a spread about fourteen miles that way.” He pointed ahead in a southeasterly direction. “You probably know the Holmes Ranch.”
She nodded. “Colby is your cousin?”
“Yep.”
He wasn’t volunteering information, so she asked, “Where are you from?”
“Raised in Seattle.”
“Your parents live there?”
“Yep.”
“Montana is quite a change from Seattle.”
“Ever been there?”
“No. I’m just imagining.”
They passed the courthouse, the lawn lit by old-fashioned converted gas lamps, just as a gentle rain began to fall, a cool sprinkling against Brynna’s warm skin. Dev led her toward the shelter of the shadowy white gazebo. He climbed the stairs and dropped her bag on a bench, and she followed, standing and gazing out at the rain falling on the street.
When she turned back, he was only inches away, having removed his hat. He studied her, his green eyes black in the dark. The dampness brought the clean scent of his shirt and skin to her nostrils. That heavy feeling in her abdomen returned full-force, and she had an overpowering urge to touch him. What would he think of her if he knew—if, heaven forbid, she had the boldness to actually act on her desires?
She didn’t have to find out, because he raised his hand first, his fingers brushing hair away from her cheek and lingering to caress the strands between his thumb and forefinger. They stood so close, she could feel the warmth radiating from his body. It was crazy, but she could feel herself being drawn toward him like a magnet.
“I want to kiss you, Brynna.”
Her heart skipped a beat. Finally. She’d never done anything this impulsive, but she’d never wanted anything more than she wanted to experience his kisses at this moment.
“Yes,” she said without hiding the impatience in her breathy voice.
She met him in an eager embrace, and the question of his kisses was answered to her delirious pleasure. His mouth tasted like beer, warm and yeasty; his lips were firm and he applied just the right amount of pressure. He allowed her to breathe and enjoy and even pull away, if she had wanted.
She didn’t.
No, no, no, she didn’t….
Senses reeling, she melted against him, placing a hand flat against his shirtfront and angling her head for closer, deeper contact. Immediately he folded her against his body, splayed the fingers of one
