and tried not to think of the scent of raspberries.
That scent had drawn him to her dad’s porch on the night she’d mentioned. Dressed in cutoffs and a halter top, she’d stationed herself on the creaky old porch swing with a bottle of that damn lotion. To get near her, he’d made up some excuse about checking the area for snakes.
Keely wasn’t the type to run off screaming at the mention of a snake, so while he’d swung a flashlight beam around and pretended to scout for rattlers, she’d nearly driven him crazy smoothing that creamy, fragrant stuff over her bare legs. They hadn’t talked much, but he remembered crickets chirping and the rhythmic squeak of that swing, which could have passed for the sound of bedsprings. To this day he couldn’t smell or taste raspberries without hearing that steady creak and seeing her hand slowly massaging the tender skin of her inner thigh.
That might have been the first time she’d discovered the stuff, but after that she’d used it constantly, trailing the scent of raspberries wherever she went. He’d come to dread that aroma, because it never failed to give him an erection, no matter how inappropriate the moment. More than once she’d glanced at his crotch and smiled, as if thrilled with her new power.
Then, a few weeks after she’d turned sixteen, she’d waylaid him in the barn. And she’d smelled exactly like a bowl of fresh raspberries. She’d tasted like that, too—juicy and moist, bursting with ripe sweetness.
He often wondered if she’d been a virgin then. If so, he’d bet she hadn’t stayed one long after he’d turned her down. He’d probably given up the chance to be her first lover that night. Saying no hadn’t been easy, considering she didn’t look or act like any sixteen-year-old he’d known before or since.
But somehow in the midst of that hot, wet kiss, he’d remembered she was sixteen, and all the lust in the world wouldn’t change that. He’d left the barn in a hurry, followed by the angry insults she’d hurled after him. At the time he’d thought she was furious. Now he wondered if she’d been more hurt than angry. He hadn’t been particularly sensitive about ending the embrace.
Sensitivity hadn’t been on his mind. Self-preservation had been all he could think about. God, how he’d wanted her. But giving in would have meant angering and disappointing two men he cared about—his father and hers.
Shortly after that he’d gone out on the rodeo circuit, figuring escape was the only answer. During his brief trips home over the next three years he’d noticed that Keely had gone overboard to become the sex symbol of Saguaro Junction. But innocent or wild, she turned him on like no one else. How ironic that he hadn’t wanted to be her first lover, but later on he hadn’t wanted to be the next one in line, either. With great difficulty he’d kept himself in check.
He was much older now and should have better control. But as he watched her scan the shelves looking for her raspberry lotion, he wondered if he’d changed at all where Keely was concerned.
All of a sudden she pounced on a bottle. “Look! Here it is!”
“Looks like it.” He groaned to himself. Wouldn’t you know.
“Okay, now a toothbrush.” She moved quickly to that aisle and grabbed a red one. “What kind of toothpaste do you use?”
He told her.
“That’ll be fine. We can share, if that’s all right with you.”
“Uh, sure.” He was aware of another customer, a matronly woman, giving them both the once-over.
“Great. The hotel shampoo will do for a couple of days, but I’ll have to buy deodorant. I don’t want some bracing, manly smell on my body.”
His mind spun wildly as he followed her to the antiperspirants. What in God’s name had he been thinking, proposing this scheme? How was he supposed to keep a level head while they shared the same shower, the same sink, and squeezed from the same toothpaste tube?
Dark red hair bouncing around her shoulders, she stalked through the rest of the store as if looking for something.
And like an idiot, he had to ask. “Is there something else you need?”
“Condoms.”
He choked. “Why?”
“I’m surprised you would say that. Really, Noah, I’m beginning to wonder what kind of sex life you have. Ah, there they are, the little devils. Here, hold my stuff for a minute so I can look these puppies over.” She shoved her lotion, deodorant and toothbrush into his hands.
Panic swelled within him. “Look, you don’t need those things. I’m telling you, we are not—”
“Oh, these aren’t for you.”
“They’re not?” The conversation had gone from bad to worse.
She studied the packages hanging on the display rack. “Not unless you change your mind.”
“I won’t, so let’s just go, okay?” He glared at a teenage kid who was lingering nearby, obviously enjoying the show. The kid grinned and left. Noah lowered his voice. “Come on, Keely. Forget this stuff.”
She ignored him. “These prices are really reasonable. Maybe I should stock up. You’d think men would look for inexpensive stores like this, but no. They like to be spontaneous, which usually means paying top dollar because they’re in a rush. Or worse yet, suggesting we skip this step. Ha. As if.”
He tried again. “All things considered, I don’t think you really need to worry about—”
“I make it a habit to have some on hand in a couple of sizes, for emergencies. And we’re here, after all. I really can’t imagine a better bargain coming along anytime soon.” She took a package from its hook and began reading. “‘Ultra-comfort. Unique shape for more freedom.’ I wonder what that means?”
“Keely.”
“Noah,” she mimicked. “Hmm. Maybe these are better.” She unhooked another package. “It’s so hard to know which ones are the best, with all these great descriptions—‘shared sensation, enhanced pleasure, ultimate feeling.’ Oh, look. Here’s one with a larger tip, and then there’s the ribbed kind. Which do you think is the best?” She turned to look at him, a package of condoms in each hand, and devilment shining from those green eyes.
He ground some more enamel off his back molars. “Keely Branscom, you are doing this on purpose.”
“Of course I am! I always budget money for a package of condoms.”
“You’re trying to get me going, is what you’re doing.”
“From the way you’re breathing, I’d say I’ve succeeded.” She grinned. “I really am buying the condoms, Noah. At least two packages of extra-large. And I’m giving you a chance to tell me which kind you like.”
His jaw was clenched so tight his teeth seemed welded together. “We are not going to need them.”
“Maybe not. But that’s the thing about condoms. The packages are small and they store well. And there could be a time when you will thank me for planning ahead. Now give me my stuff. It’s time to check out.” She took her items from him and sashayed down the aisle with her lotion,
