In Over His Head

he'd felt such intense, instantaneous combustion. Sure, he'd experienced sparks plenty of times before, but nothing like that.

If she hadn't called a halt, he didn't doubt for a second that things in the pool would have quickly burned out of control. This was better, his mind told his protesting body for the dozenth time since he'd exited the pool. Based on her suggestion to meet for drinks and conversation, he clearly sensed that she wanted them to spend some time getting to know each other a bit before they explored where that kiss would lead. Well, that was fine with him. He was definitely interested in finding out more about her, and more than willing to give the lady whatever she wanted and needed.

The lady in question grinned and waved at the bartender, holding up two fingers at him. Then her gaze panned the room. As the bar was half-empty, she spotted him almost immediately, and made her way across the polished wood floor to his table.

Sliding across from him into the booth, she smiled and said, 'Hi.'

A cloud of some incredible, sexy, flowery fragrance wafted over him, fogging his brain. Thirty minutes. How the hell had she gone from soaking-wet swim teacher to this curly haired, scrumptious-smelling siren in thirty minutes? Good Lord, he knew women who took longer than that just to apply their makeup. He narrowed his eyes at her. It didn't appear she was wearing any makeup, and if she was, it wasn't much. In fact, all he could detect for sure was a hint of gloss on her lips that made them look even more tempting than usual.

Forcing his gaze away from that enticing mouth, their eyes met, and for the first time he could clearly see their color. Hazel. An intriguing mix of amber flecks on a bluish-gray background.

She waved her hand in front of his face, breaking him out of his stupor. 'You okay, Josh?'

Nope. Feel like I've just been tossed from the saddle. Recalling that this was supposed to be a conversation/get-to-know-each-other session, he returned her smile. 'Yup, just fine. You fix up real nice, Miss Lexie.'

'Ha. You're only saying that because this is the first time you've seen me when I haven't looked like someone just dumped a bucket of water over my head.'

Before he could assure her that she looked just fine all wet, a pretty redheaded waitress delivered two frosty mugs of beer to the table. 'Hey, Lexie,' she said with a smile, then she gave him a friendly nod. 'Can I bring you two anything to eat?'

Lexie looked at him. 'Hungry?'

'Always.'

A flicker of awareness glimmered in her eyes. 'Any preferences?'

'Anything you choose will be just fine with me.'

'Hmm. Any aversion to spicy food?'

'The spicier the better.'

'You're not a vegetarian, are you?'

'You're askin' a cowboy that?'

'Right. Dumb question.' Turning toward the waitress, she said, 'We'll have the extra-large Five-Alarm Platter, Lisa.'

'Comin' right up,' Lisa said with a jaunty smile, then she turned and headed back toward the bar.

'What's in this Five-Alarm Platter?' he asked, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the table, bringing him closer to her.

'Wings, chili fries, short ribs, quesadillas and cheese-stuffed jalapenos. All spiced up enough to make you breathe fire. Definitely not for the fainthearted. And enough fat grams to give any cardiologist palpitations. Which is why the Five-Alarm is only a once-in-a-while indulgence.'

He lifted his beer mug and held it aloft. 'Well, in that case, here's to once-in-a-while indulgences.'

A hint of color stained her cheeks, charming-and intriguing-him. It had been a long time since he'd seen a woman blush.

'To indulgences,' she agreed, clinking her mug against his.

He sucked down a long, icy swallow, then set his glass on the colorful cardboard coaster, resisting the urge to press the cold mug to his forehead. He needed something hot as much as he needed a hole in his head, but he couldn't deny he liked a woman who wasn't afraid to eat something other than a salad. And there was no point denying that he liked this particular woman. Or that she turned him on just by sitting here-hell, she'd turned him on the first time he'd seen her. Or that her kiss had the impact of a horse kick to the head.

Definitely time to get a conversation started-before she thought he was some sort of gawking, tongue-tied, weirdo. Unfortunately he wasn't a great conversationalist on his best day. All those awkward pauses, and wondering what to say next. How was he supposed to carry on a conversation with a gal who all but made him forget his name?

Offering her a half smile, he asked, 'How long have you worked here at the resort, Lexie?'

And it was as simple as that. No awkward pauses, no not knowing what to say. The next two hours whizzed by in a blur of laughter, conversation, fiery-spiced food, and a pitcher of ice water to accompany their beer. He couldn't recall the last time he'd enjoyed himself just talking to a woman. When he'd felt so at ease. It had been a long time. Too long.

Yet, for all the being at ease his mind was enjoying, his body was having one hell of a hard time. Literally. Sexual awareness simmered between them until he felt as if he'd been stuffed into a pressure cooker. He saw it in her eyes, felt it tingle through him when their fingers touched passing the ketchup bottle. When her foot brushed his shin as she crossed her legs under the table. He wrapped his fingers around his beer mug to keep from giving in to the overwhelming desire to drag her into his lap and run his hands all over her. But every look, every smile she gave him, pushed him a little closer to the edge.

Over chili fries and wings, he learned that Lexie lived in a small house about five miles from the resort, that she loved animals, and had a cat named Scout who was fond of salmon, popcorn-buttered only-and Doritos-nacho- cheese flavor, please. She also loved baseball and classic movies, hated horror flicks and any story with a sad ending.

'I always rewrite the sad ending in my head so it's not sad anymore,' she said, nibbling on a chili fry.

Watching those gorgeous lips wrap around that fry raised his temperature a good ten degrees. Feeling as if he'd burst if didn't touch her, he reached out and gently tugged on one of her chin-length, riotous curls. The soft, silky strands slid between his fingers.

'Happy endings, huh?' he murmured. 'So at the end of Gone With the Wind…?'

It took her several seconds to answer, a fact that pleased him. Clearly she found his touch distracting. Good. Because for the past two hours she'd distracted the hell out of him.

Finally she said, 'Um, Scarlett gets her man.'

He continued to play with her hair. 'And West Side Story?'

'Ah, Maria gets Tony-who, of course, doesn't die.'

'What about Hamlet?'

'In my version, Ophelia-who, of course doesn't die-gets Hamlet-who-'

'Of course doesn't die. I'm beginning to see a pattern.' He tucked several curls behind her ear, then slowly traced her jawline with a single fingertip.

She swallowed. Hard. 'So, um, do all cowboys read stuff like Hamlet?'

'They do if it's a college course requirement.'

'I remember you wore a University of Montana T-shirt the other night. Is that where you went?'

'It is.' Clearly she still wanted to chat. That was fine-he liked talking to her. But no law said he had to continue making it easy for her. His finger resumed its leisurely path across her chin. 'Managed to graduate, even in spite of Hamlet.'

'What is your degree in?'

'Chemical engineering.'

She blinked twice. 'You, uh, get to make much use of that expertise on the ranch?'

He laughed. 'Hardly ever. Although after graduation I worked for a year at a research lab on a project geared toward developing alternate energy sources.'

Her brows hiked upward, and he skimmed his fingertip over the arches, then down her smooth cheek.