“Jesus,you scared me! You okay?” he croaked.
Herarms seemed to fold over her chest on their own; her tapping foot also seemedto move by itself. Unable to stop herself, she blurted, “Where have you been?”The fishwife again.
He tooka step closer, jaw swinging open. “I was … I was playing cards and …” Hepointed vaguely toward the door and seemed to stagger a step.
Andthen it hit her. The reek of cigar smoke and liquor rolled over her in waves.She twitched her hand in front of her nose.
“Yousmell terrible!”
He gaveher a cockeyed grin. “Yeah, well, I had to keep up. Man, can those fuckersdrink! I thought for a sec I was going down, but I held my own.” He teeteredslightly before dropping his jacket over a chair, nearly missing. His hand doveinto his pocket. The grin intact, he hauled out a wad of bills. “I won!” hedeclared proudly. And hiccupped.
Herarms relaxed a tic. “How much?”
“Scotchor money? I have no fucking clue. A lot—on both scores.” He reeled,stiff-arming the wall to catch himself. She ran to his side, snugging herselfinto his armpit to prop him up. He draped his arms heavily over her shouldersand sniffed her head.
“I maysmell like shit, but you smell soooooo good.”
Wait.Was he nibbling her hair?
“So youweren’t with a … a … what do you call hockey groupies anyway?”
“Easy?”he snickered. His joke stoked an angry little blaze inside her, and she pressedher lips together. Why wouldn’t the fishwife dry up?
Withwhat seemed a Herculean effort, he pulled back and stared down at her. Her eyesnearly watered from his distillery-saturated breath. “Puck bunnies, and no, Iwasn’t with one.” He grimaced. “Why the hell would I do that when the most bee… the most boo … the prettiest woman in the whole goddamn hotel is in myroom?” Then he began singing a tune that resembled an old Hall and Oates song.
“Iwanna play … whoaaaa, tonight, my lord, so slow.” His resonating baritonevibrated his chest.
“You’rewasted.” She pulled away.
“Yup.”
Shehanded him a full glass of water, which he drank obediently. Then she led himto his bedroom, pushed him on the bed, and removed his vest, tie, socks, andshoes while he continued crooning.
“Oh,oh, I wanna play … hum, um, with you, my girl.”
For thebriefest second, she considered helping him out of his shirt and pants. Butlogic surged, flashing warning lights in her head, and she rejected the riskythought. From the neutral zone to the danger zone. Not a good idea.
Helooked around himself and slid his hand over the sheets. “I getta sleep with you?Sweet!” He began fumbling with his shirt buttons.
“Absolutelynot.” Good call leaving the pants on.
Shehanded him another glass of water. “So it was just you and the boys?”
“Yep.God, can those fuckers drink.”
“Yousaid that.”
“Yeah,well, not my first choice for how I spent tonight, but I hadda get away fromyou.”
What?“Get away fromme? Why?”
Theglass wobbled as he set it on the nightstand. With a tug on her wrist, heyanked her on her bottom beside him. He’d only wrestled one button open. Layinghis head on her shoulder, he cradled her face in his warm hand. Then his lipswere on her neck, soft, moist, moving slowly, shooting shivers to her redtoenails.
“Don’twanna break my scout pledge,” he whispered against her throat.
Hereyes rolled up in their sockets. Please break your scout pledge. Break it.No, please don’t.
Hepulled back and ran his finger down her nose, his gorgeous eyes locked on hers.“I’m trying really hard to keep it just friends, pixie. I don’t wanna screweverything up. Not with you.” His unbroken gaze still on her, he brought herhand to his lips and planted a kiss in her palm. More shivers raced up her arm.“You’re the hottest, most volumptuous pixie I’ve ever seen.”
Volumptuous?Is that even a word?
Withthat, he fell backward and groaned, his fingers still encircling her wrist. Shecaressed his sandpaper jaw, yearning to lie beside him, run her hands over thehard planes of his body, and discover just how the rest of him might fit her.
Chastisingherself, she gingerly moved away and pulled the bedspread over him. He sighedinto a pillow and hugged it, mumbling about pixies and fairy dust.
OhGod, to be that pillow!
Breathless,she crept into her own bed, turning over Beckett’s words and the questions theyraised. Was his attraction all about the physical, or was there something more?Where might it lead? Would she feel his lips on hers again? Sparkling icecrystals danced hypnotically on the wind outside, and she watched them throughthe window until much later, when her eyes finally closed.
.~ * * * ~.
Beckett stumbled into the living room. Gray sky tinged thewindow with watery light, and despite its dimness, he threw a hand over hiseyes.
“Gah!”
Andie’sdoor was shut. He glanced down at himself, taking in his twisted pants, stillbelted, and his rumpled, half-untucked shirt. T-shirt and underwear werebunched but in place. He hadn’t remembered doing anything except kissing hersilky neck; at least his memory and the evidence matched up. But had he said ordone anything stupid?
Heretreated to his bathroom and cleaned up. When he emerged, he brewed somecoffee and waited, his eyes floating in and out of focus. Andie stepped out ofthe bedroom in sweater and jeans, her damp hair curling around her face. Hereyes swept him from head to toe, and her mouth immediately curved into a smile.
“Howyou feeling, Mr. Moneybags?”
“Idon’t know yet. Did I get out of line?”
“Youkept your pledge.” She raised three fingers in a salute.
Reliefdropped his shoulders an inch. “Thank God for that.”
Hethought a look of disappointment flitted over her face. If it had, she quicklymasked it. “So how’s your head?”
“Uh, myeyes don’t work so well. So I didn’t screw anything up?” Pouring out two mugs,he doctored one and handed it to her.
Herbrows knitted together as she blew into the steaming cup. “Screw anything up?”
“Youknow. Piss you off.”
“No,though I was a little surprised when you left.” She cradled her cup. “Tell me.Is this how you begin all your
