Mindy watched him stroll over to a cabinet and take down a stack of plastic cups. He took two and turned them over on the desk. She handed him the bottle and he poured a small amount into each cup.
“Here you go.”
She took the cup and sipped the mellow whiskey. Rolling her tongue over her lips, she made a throaty moan. “Remember when we snuck a bottle of this stuff out of daddy’s cabinet? First alcohol we tasted and I spat it everywhere. It certainly goes down better with age.”
“A lot of things get better with age.” His warm gaze spoke volumes.
He backed up, opened one of the lockers, and took out a T-shirt. “Here. Put this on.”
She hesitated.
His laughter made her shiver. “It’s a shirt not a snake. Get out of those wet clothes before you catch your death.” He sat down on the edge of the desk, looking at her over the rim of his glass.
She was cold and wet, all the way down to her itty-bitty thong.
Taking the shirt, she placed her glass on a nearby shelf. She looked across the room at Creed.
“What?” he muttered.
“Turn around.”
“I’ve seen everything before. A few times.” His voice was as smooth as the whiskey.
“Probably so, but I’m not that young girl anymore. My body has changed.”
He gave an easy shrug, pushed up from the bed and turned his back to her. “Why do women do that?”
She unbuttoned the wet shirt and dropped it to the side. Then the cami. “Do what?”
“Think that age is a disgrace to their body. I love your new curves. The new confidence I see in your eyes. It’s sexy as hell.” The divulging of his words made her tremble inside.
Unhooking her bra, she dragged the damp material away and her nipples budded, from the combination of his words and the cooler air. “I think it’s wonderful that you feel that way, but Branch felt differently.”
“Fuck your ex-husband. If he couldn’t deal with a smart, sophisticated, beautiful, mature woman that speaks of his low character.”
She smiled at Creed’s back as she reached for the T-shirt and read the front, “Hawke Landing Search and Rescue.” Pulling the soft cotton down over her shoulders and torso, she hugged it to her skin. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve long gotten over him. Hopefully Sian’s body tightens back into place once she has the baby. He might not feel the same about her then.”
“Is that the woman he left you for?”
“Yes. I just found out yesterday that he married her and they’re expecting a child.” Toeing off her boots and socks, she then unbuttoned her damp shorts and slid them down her legs. She started to leave her panties on but decided against it.
Thankfully, she’d shaven her legs. She smiled at the silly thought.
“So that’s why you needed the emotional drunk?”
“I was celebrating my freedom.” Scooping up her clothes, she said, “You can turn around.”
She hung her damp things over the top bunk to dry. She lifted her chin to find Creed’s simmering gaze on her. “What?” She curled her toes against the cool hardwood floor.
“You. In my shirt. I’ll never look at it the same way again.” He emptied his whiskey and poured another.
“Thank you. It does feel better than the wet things.” She picked up her cup and sipped, feeling the warmth pool into her stomach. “How often do you stay here?”
“Not often. Tonight I worked late and decided to catch some ZZs.”
“Did I wake you?”
“No. In fact, I couldn’t get my mind off you. So why did you come?”
“I-I came to see you, Creed.” She took a step forward, inhaling him into her greedy lungs. How could one man smell so good? Be so powerful. Every part of him was big and strong.
A deep, reverberating jolt rocketed through her. He watched her with such emotion, such appreciation and desire. She needed to believe she could be herself with him. She could be vulnerable and he’d never hurt her. Holding up her empty cup, she said, “Pour me another, Cowboy?”
“Good thing you didn’t drive. I’d have to take your keys.” He picked up the bottle and poured a little more into her cup.
“I’m a smart drunk. Not that I do it often. I just felt I needed a little liquid therapy.” She saluted him with her cup then turned on her feet and examined the room. “By the way, your mom called and said Livvy wants to take lessons with me.” She stopped in front of a row of framed pictures of Creed and his brothers.
“Really? I didn’t know.”
“Does it bother you that she wants to take lessons?” She turned to face him, wrapping her fingers around the cup.
“No. Should it?”
“No, but I thought I caught a hint of disappointment in your voice.”
He shrugged and swiped a hand down his whiskered jaw. “I’m grateful that Ma has helped with Livvy, but there are times I feel like my daughter will never listen to me while she has Ma as a sympathy vote.”
“I don’t think it’s a sympathy vote, Creed. You said yourself you work a lot. Livvy probably depends upon her grandmother. Have you spoken to them about how you feel?” She took a step closer, sipping the whiskey.
“I do, but I don’t think I get my point across.”
“Nothing new,” she teased. “Although, I do think you’ve learned a lesson or two in communication since I was last in Cooper’s Hawk.”
“Let’s just say I’ve watched my brothers a time or two and learned
