Jack laughed. “Something tells me yes.”
Chapter Eight
When they reached the truck, Jack brought her around to the passenger side. But rather than open the door for her, he pulled Liza into his arms. He kissed her without preamble and she practically melted in her Manolo Blahniks.
As his arms slid around her waist and he held her tight, she wound her fingers through his hair. Her new custom. She’d never been with a man who had such thick, lush hair and loved the feel of it against her skin. Plus, she liked the end result—the way her fingers mussed the strands, making Jack look even more devilish. As if he’d just rolled out of bed and had done nothing more than run a hand through his hair. It was damn sexy.
His hands moved up to her bare back and she didn’t even care about the dewiness of her skin. It was inevitable in this heat. Besides, Jack didn’t seem to mind…or maybe he didn’t even notice. His thick thigh pressed between her parted legs and really all she could think of was having him inside her again.
When his lips left hers, but still hovered close, Liza didn’t open her eyes. Just savored the moment.
“Mm, nice,” she whispered.
He groaned. “I was shooting for sizzling hot. I suppose nice will have to do.”
“Maybe you should try again.”
He did, kissing her a little more intensely. Until her toes curled and her pussy throbbed. The trembling of her body made her pull away.
“What?” he asked, his eyes narrowing against the bright sun.
“Nothing. I was just thinking that maybe we shouldn’t be out in public when you do earth-shattering things to me.”
“Earth-shattering, huh?”
“Yeah,” she said with a sheepish smile.
Way to give away the farm, girlfriend.
Jack laughed, full and hearty, making Liza’s body hum with excitement. “Well, didn’t you say something about working off calories when we were at lunch?”
“I did,” she said, totally unable to be coy. But then another thought occurred to her. “When do you have to be at the saloon?”
“Not ‘til four-thirty or five. And we close early tonight.”
She remembered Ruby saying something similar. “Why’s that?”
Jack stepped away from her, that earlier tension returning full force. He pulled the keys from his front pocket and unlocked the truck with the remote. Then he reached for the door handle. “Every business is closed by ten on Saturday nights.”
Didn’t take a genius IQ to see he was none too happy about that fact. Liza let him help her into the cab and shut her door, biting her tongue until he climbed into the driver’s seat.
“So what’s that all about?” she asked. “I mean, it’s Saturday night. Why would a saloon be closed at ten o’clock? And you were closed before midnight last night.”
Jack shoved the key in the ignition and turned it. Without even looking at her, he said, “The reverend doesn’t want his congregation drunk or hung over come Sunday morning.”
She stared at him, dumbfounded. When she finally found her voice, she said, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She latched her belt as she shook her head. “Are you seriously telling me that you shut down early so that people can make it to church?”
Okay, maybe country life wasn’t quite as easy-breezy as she’d anticipated.
As Jack backed out of the parking space, he said, “Bain convinced the City Council a while back to impose a curfew on Saturday nights. Claimed it was for everyone’s good—a ‘spiritual awakening’, I think he called it.”
“I take it service attendance was waning.”
“Something like that,” Jack muttered. He turned the truck toward the entrance to the parking lot and was just pulling out when he yelled, “Hold on!” and suddenly slammed on the brakes. His powerful arm shot out and pinned Liza to the seat as another car rammed them on the driver’s side.
Her hand clutched the bar above the window at Jack’s warning. That and his quick reflexes kept her fully intact, but she still felt jolted to the core of her being.
“Holy shit,” she said, her heart leaping into her throat.