“Don’t worry, Eli,” Cody consoled him. “I’ll settle up with you.” He fixed his unrelenting gaze on Melissa and added, “I always accept my responsibilities.”
“Oh, stuff a rag in it,” Melissa retorted, stripping off her apron and opening the cash register to shove in the twenty she’d pocketed. “Eli, I’m leaving. Mr. Adams has already paid his check. Keep the change.”
She made it as far as the sidewalk, still shrugging into her coat, when Cody caught up with her. If her refusal to kowtow to his wishes for a second time had ruffled his feathers, he wasn’t letting it show. He fell into step beside her, his expression perfectly innocent.
“Going to pick up the baby?”
Actually Melissa had no idea where she was going. She’d been so anxious to get away from Cody that she’d walked out of the drugstore without the kind of plan she should have had. It was an unfortunate sign of weakness, one she couldn’t allow him to detect.
“No, actually, I have things to do.”
“Like what? I’ll help.”
“No, thanks. I can handle it.”
“Come on, Me…liss…a,” he coaxed, planting himself on the sidewalk in front of her, legs spread. He rocked back on the heels of his cowboy boots and peered at her from beneath the brim of his hat. It was a look that invited a woman to swoon. She ought to know. She’d done it often enough, flat-out making a fool of herself over him.
“Would spending a little time with me be so awful?” he inquired.
Awful? That wasn’t the word she would have chosen. Dangerous, maybe. Stupid. Risky. There was a whole string of applicable words and none of them had anything to do with awful.
“I’d rather not,” she said politely.
“Bet I can change your mind,” he countered, grinning at her.
She scowled at him as he advanced on her step by step. “Don’t try.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. The temptation is pretty great. Your mouth is all pouty. Very kissable,” he assessed, his gaze hot on her. He took yet another step closer, crowding her. “Your cheeks are pink. Just about the color of rose petals and twice as soft. It’s all hard to resist.”
As he spoke, her lips burned as if he’d kissed them. Her cheeks flamed, turning to what she was sure must be a deeper shade. Damn, it didn’t seem to matter if he actually touched her or not. Her body reacted predictably just to the provocative suggestion.
“Go away,” she ordered in a voice that was entirely too breathless.
His expression solemn, he shook his head. “I can’t do that, Me…liss…a.”
She sighed. “Why not?” she demanded far too plaintively.
He circled one arm around her waist and dragged her against him. She could feel the hard heat of his arousal.
“You know the answer to that,” he whispered, his lips scant millimeters from hers. His breath fanned across her cheek.
“Cody.” His name came out as a broken sigh, a protest that not even someone far less relentless than Cody would have heeded.
“It’s okay,” he consoled her. “Everything is going to turn out just fine.”
He slanted his mouth over hers then, setting off fireworks in January. Why, why, why? her brain demanded. Why was her body so darned traitorous? Maybe it was like the tides. Maybe the way she responded to Cody was as immutable as the sun setting in the west.
She resisted the explanation. It meant she had no will at all to fight it. She put her hands on his chest and shoved with all her might. She might as well have been trying to topple a centuries’ old oak. Cody didn’t budge. He didn’t stop that tender assault on her mouth.
For what seemed an eternity he coaxed and plundered, teased and tasted until she was shivering with urgent and almost-forgotten need. When she was weak with a desire she definitely didn’t want to feel, Cody finally released her. She very nearly melted at his feet. In fact, she might have if he hadn’t kept his hands resting possessively on her hips. Even through her coat, her skin burned at his touch.
“So, what are we going to do with the rest of the afternoon?” he inquired. The gleam in his eyes suggested he had an idea of his own. His lips quirked up in the beginnings of a smile.
“Not what you’re thinking,” she said curtly.
His grin spread. “Don’t be so certain of that, sweet pea. It sounds an awful lot like a challenge and you know I never could resist a dare.”
Desperate for space, she backed away from him. “Give it a rest,” she said crankily.
He reached out and rubbed his thumb across her lower lip. The sensation sent fire dancing through her.
“I’m just getting started, darlin’,” he murmured, his gaze locked with hers.
Melissa held back a sigh of resignation. “You’re not going home, are you?”
“When I can be with you? No way.”
“Come on, then.”
His expression immediately brightened. Once more he fell dutifully into step beside her. “Where are we going?”
“To buy groceries,” she said, plucking a boring chore out of thin air. “And after that, we’re ironing.” She slanted a look at him to judge his reaction. He didn’t bat an eye.
“Sounds downright fascinating,” he declared. He captured her gaze, then added slowly, “I’ve always been particularly fond of starch.”
She ignored the provocative tone. “Oh, really?” she said skeptically.
“Yes, indeed,” he swore. “In my shirts and in my women. And you, sweet pea, are full of it.”
Melissa had a feeling it would take her weeks to puzzle out whether he meant that as a compliment. For the first time, though, she had this funny little feeling she was going to have the time of her life figuring it out.
Chapter Eight
Somewhere in the middle of the grocery store, Melissa lost track of Cody. She was aware of the precise instant when she no longer felt the heat of his stare or the sizzling tension of his nearness. She almost sagged with relief, even as she fought off a vague stirring
