Because Garret Sawyer had been the first man to give her a mind-blowing orgasm.
The only man.
And Viviana Darland wanted one more before her past finally caught up with her, and she bit the dust for good.
HE HAD TO BE DREAMING.
Another full-blown, heart-stopping, aching hard-on fantasy.
Because no way—no friggin’ way—was she really here.
Right here.
Right now.
She eased off the bar stool and stepped toward him, and reality sank in.
Shit.
That’s what his head said. But his damned traitorous body wasn’t nearly as pissed.
His muscles tightened. His spine stiffened. Heat swept through him, firebombing his dick until it throbbed to full awareness. His eyes drank in the sight of her, roving from her head to her red-tipped toes and back up again just as she reached his table.
She looked different now. So damned different.
Instead of being pulled back, her long black hair hung in soft waves around her face, accenting her bright blue eyes and full pink lips. A fitted navy blue jacket molded to her lush breasts and tiny waist. A matching skirt outlined her curvaceous hips. High-heeled sandals made her legs seem that much longer than the full skirts and petticoats she’d worn way back when.
Different, yet she still had the same glimmer in her eyes. The same confidence in her stance.
His nostrils flared, and he drank in the same warm scent of apples and cinnamon that he remembered so well.
“Is this seat taken?” Her soft, familiar voice slid into his ears and jump-started his heart. Before he could reply, she pulled out the chair opposite him and folded herself into it.
The music blared a fast ZZ Top song that kept time with his racing pulse. “What are you doing here?” he finally asked after a long, loud moment.
She held up a bottle of Lonestar and gave him the faintest smile. “Thought I’d sample some of the local brew.”
“Not here at the Horseshoe.” His gaze narrowed, colliding with hers. “Here. This town.”
She shrugged. “I’m on assignment.”
That’s what she said. But her eyes. Those bluer-than-blue eyes said something much different. He didn’t miss the flash of desperation. Or the glimmer of need.
“We haven’t had any alien abductions or Elvis sightings in a while,” he said, sarcastically.
“I’m not working for The Gossip Guru anymore,” she said, referring to the national tabloid that sat next to the cash register at every grocery store and gas station in town. “I’m freelancing now. I’m doing a travel article on small towns.” Her gaze collided with his. “Sexy small towns.”
Her words stirred a rush of memories he’d buried a long, long time ago. Memories of the two of them having wild and crazy—
Garret hit the brakes and made a U-turn before he wasted another second going down the wrong road.
He’d traveled that path once before, and he’d crashed and burned in a major way. Sure, he couldn’t help a wet dream every now and then. But that was pure fantasy. An escape from the monotony of living year after year after year.
He sure as hell wasn’t stupid enough to go for the real thing.
Not ever again.
He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “It’s dusty here. And hot. And it smells like cow shit when the wind blows due south. We’re smack dab in the middle of ranch country. There’s nothing sexy about it.”
“Not to you because you live here. But if you were stuck in New York or Chicago or Detroit, it would be a different story. There are quite a few people who would love to escape the daily grind of civilization and get back to nature. In a small town, you can do that. There’s no traffic congestion. No pollution fogging the air. No concrete jungle. Just lots of birds and trees and rolling countryside.” She smiled. “Come on, you have to admit the view around here is pretty incredible.”
Damn straight.
She paused to lick her lips, and he couldn’t help but follow the motion with his gaze.
His stomach did a one-eighty, and the words were out before he could stop himself. “I suppose it’s nice enough. But sexy?”
“It can be. If you’re with that special someone. There are couples all over the world eager to find an old, quaint small town with friendly people and lots of local color for a romantic getaway.”
“You’ve just described every town from here to the Rio Grande. That still doesn’t answer my question—why this particular town?” My town? His gaze collided with hers and he found himself wishing he could read her thoughts the way he could read those of humans.
But she was a vampire.
She always had been.
A knife twisted in his gut, and he stiffened. “Why Skull Creek?” he pressed.
She didn’t say anything for a long moment. Instead, she licked her lips again. Once. Twice. If he hadn’t known better, he would have sworn she was trying to work up her courage.
But he knew better.
Viv had never come up short on courage. She was a bloodsucker who took what she wanted. And discarded what she didn’t want.
He knew that firsthand.
“Why not Skull Creek?” she countered. “Besides, it’s not the only town I’m featuring. Just one of five I’m visiting for this particular article.” The music closed in on them for several long seconds as Bob Seger launched into “Night Moves.”
“A travel piece, huh?” he finally said. “Sounds tame compared to the stuff you’re used to.”
She shrugged and took a swig of her beer. “I was due for a change of pace.”
“And here I thought you’d come all this way to see me.”
“Actually…” Her voice faded as she seemed to search for her next words. “I did.” Her gaze locked with his, and he saw it again—the flash of desperation, along with a glimmer of fear. “I…” She swallowed. “That, is, I know you recently opened a motorcycle shop in town, and I thought maybe I could take a few pictures for my article. You know, to showcase all that Skull Creek has to offer. I’ve taken shots of Mr. McClury’s jasmine fields and the gazebo in the town square. I know a motorcycle shop doesn’t seem all that sexy, but it’s the implication. Two lovebirds riding off into the sunset.” When he didn’t say anything, she added, “It’s just a few pictures. You won’t have to do anything. Just be there to let me in and out and answer a few questions.”
“What’s
