“Yes, yes, I know. Just like I don’t want to get involved with Chad.”
“Or Joe Bradley,” Dallas agreed.
“Of course. Anyone else I should stay away from? Besides you, of course?”
“I don’t want you to stay away from me.”
“Oh? That’s news.”
“I want you. I want to kiss your sweet lips. I want to run my tongue over your beautiful nipples and lick down your belly all the way to that sweet, hot—”
Annie squeezed her thighs together as she moistened, her clit throbbing. She wanted him so badly she thought she might implode on the spot. “Stop right there, Dallas. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Come over, Doc. Please? I’d come to you but I can’t drive. I’ve had a little bit to drink.”
“I’ll say. I’ll see you in the morning.” She clicked the phone off.
She couldn’t continue her date with Doug. It wouldn’t be fair to him. Clearly, he had more than just a friendly movie in mind, and she didn’t want to lead him on.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she sat back down at the table. “I can finish dinner, but I’m going to have to take a rain check on the movie. I need to go on a call.”
“Shoot. Well, how about tomorrow night then?”
“Weekdays are bears for me. Can we make it the weekend?”
“I guess you’re worth the wait.” His brown eyes beamed and he flashed his sexy dimple.
“That’s sweet of you. I truly am sorry.” And also a liar, but what the heck?
Doug kissed her good night at her door. A lingering open-mouthed kiss that she could have done without. She ended it as quickly as she could and thanked him again for the dinner, assuring him she’d see him on the weekend, but already thinking up ways to break the date.
Inside she plopped on her couch and thought about Dallas. Poor inebriated Dallas who would feel like hell in the morning. Served him right.
Ten minutes later, she was in her car driving to him. A glutton for punishment, that’s what she was. After all, she’d stayed with Riggs all those years, hoping things would get better, knowing full well they wouldn’t.
Now she was on her way to play nursemaid to a man who clearly wanted her, but didn’t want to want her. The thought of him spending the night alone in a drunken stupor was more than she could bear. Even if he did deserve it.
He didn’t answer the doorbell. She tried the door but it was locked. Clearly he had learned something from the whole Chelsea debacle. She went around to the back. It was open. She stole in quietly. The house was dark, which surprised her. “Dallas?” she called. “It’s me. I’m here.”
She walked up the stairway to his bedroom. There he was, sprawled on his bed, a bottle of Macallan in his hand. The TV was turned to ESPN.
“Dallas?”
His head turned toward the door. “Annie. Oh, thank God!”
He struggled to his feet.
“No, Cowboy, don’t get up. I’ll come to you.”
She took the bottle from him. It was nearly empty. “How full was this when you started?”
“All the way.”
She studied it. “Twenty-five year? This stuff’s over a hundred dollars a bottle. You should be ashamed of yourself, wasting it.”
“I want a kiss,” he announced.
“I’m not here for that. I’m here to take care of you.”