She slung the bag she’d brought over her shoulder, and he was surprised she didn’t topple over because it was obviously heavy. That was confirmed when she listed a little to one side. “Don’t pull that country bumpkin act with me, Spence. After that hefty crack last night and the way you manhandled me, you’re fortunate to get an apology at all.”
Harley sat there with his head cocked in that way he had, apparently fascinated by their exchange. The dog was so darned smart he probably understood every word, too. If Spence even mentioned the word walk, the dog was at the door, and heaven forbid he should carelessly drop the word treat because then there’d be a streak of black and white making a dash for the pantry, straight to the correct cupboard.
Melody was getting ready to leave. Apology over, duty done.
While he still wondered why she’d bothered, he didn’t want her to go. That glutton-for-punishment mentality of his clearly meant he should get his head examined by a professional.
Oh, yeah. And he was about to prove it.
“Hold on.” Spence lifted his brows. “I already know the favor. The one you promised me.”
“You do? Okay.” She eyed him suspiciously. “Shoot.”
She sure as hell should be suspicious. His intentions were distinctly based on a certain portion of his anatomy that was clamoring to be in charge. Her mouth was soft and tempting in the light coming through the kitchen window, the view outside framing her in a vista of mountain peaks and blue sky. The sun lit her hair with a glorious shimmer of gold.
If he asked her for what he wanted, she might refuse, so he improvised. “Don’t move.”
“That’s the favor?” There was confusion in her voice. And a slight tremor.
“Yep.”
“What are you up to, Hogan?” Her eyes widened as he took two steps, closing the distance between them.
He relieved her of the purse or bag or whatever it was. He muttered, “What’s in this thing? Have you been diving shipwrecks to pick up cannonballs?” It thumped as he put it on the counter. Then, quick as heat lightning, he caught her around the waist.
“None of your business, and what the hell are you doing?”
“Kissing you.”
“I don’t think—”
“Perfect,” he interrupted as he lowered his head. “Thinking should not be involved.”
It had been a long time since that passionate summer when they couldn’t get enough of each other, but his senses hadn’t forgotten a damned thing. Her taste, the curves of the body pressed against him and a fierce surge of desire he’d certainly never felt with any other woman.
Maybe if he hadn’t been in constant contact with her for the past few days he wouldn’t have done it. While it was awkward to run into each other in town and at various Bliss County events, they both used avoidance like a personal shield.
They’d done this for nine years. But he still thought about her every day. That was too telling to ignore.
What if they put as much effort into resuming a relationship as they did avoiding it? Perhaps it could work.
It must be Tripp’s happiness rubbing off on him, giving him some sort of romantic bug that was as infectious as the flu.
Melody made a noise of protest and slapped his shoulder.
Not exactly romantic enthusiasm.
In return, he deepened the kiss, half expecting a knee to the groin.
Then her hand relaxed on his arm.
That was something he might not have noticed if he wasn’t so attuned to her body language, but he felt every atom shift, the cosmos adjust, and Melody softened against him.
Physically, they’d always been good together...
If she made that sexy little sound of enjoyment that he remembered like a song stuck in his mind, he’d be dead in the water.
She made it. Big splash as he went in and started to drown.
Instant erection. He knew she could feel it, too, because she stirred slightly, in an erotic movement that was instinctively female, and if he hadn’t been busy giving her the kiss of her life—he was sure trying—he would have groaned out loud.
What happened next was up to her.
Neither one of them was breathing evenly when they finally broke the kiss, and he nuzzled her neck, waiting for her to say something, anything, to indicate how she felt about what they’d just done. Knowing Melody, she might come to her senses—smack his face and storm off, peeling rubber as she drove away.
He really hoped she wouldn’t come to her senses.
He certainly wasn’t being practical.
Luck was with him; she wasn’t, either. She looked him in the eyes. “I have no idea what that was about.”
“Yes, you do.” He brushed his fingers across her cheek. “I’m going to recant what I said last night. You’re lovely in yellow. I’m very partial to you in yellow. See how well I can apologize? Besides, it was a joke.”
“Too late to smooth that one over. Maybe you should kiss me again.”
“I’d like to do a hell of a lot more than that.”
“That isn’t exactly a state secret at the moment.” Her reply was typically sassy, but she didn’t pull away.
A treacherous flicker of triumph shot through him. Whoa, there, cowboy, don’t get too full of yourself yet. Give her something more.
“Mel, did you ever consider that it’s never too late?” He whispered the words against her mouth, and the sun was warm on his shoulders as he pulled her closer. “For us, I mean.”
He didn’t wait for her answer. This kiss was even better than the last one. That could be strictly his opinion, but as one of the two participants, surely his vote counted.
Melody took a long breath when it was over. “I know I’m being stupid, but I don’t care. Bedroom?”
“You aren’t...” He started to argue, but trailed off. Leery as she was of trusting him again, he was equally afraid of making promises until he understood exactly what she wanted. Until he knew that they both wanted the same thing.
He swept her into his arms but was wise enough to not say a word as he carried her down the hall to the desired destination. It was time he learned to keep his mouth shut.
MAYBE IT WAS Hadleigh and Tripp’s romantic wedding wedding that had sent her personal universe into la-la
