Saving Kylie

“You know I don’t drink,” she said between gulps. Already the artificial warmth was chasing away the cold.

“You do tonight.”

She couldn’t argue with that logic.

She eventually nudged the glass away. She licked her lips to catch every stray droplet of brandy and sank back against the pillow. Even narrowing her eyes to study Justin took a lot of effort. But she didn’t need to see the details to know exactly how he looked. God knows, he sat across from her at the bar often enough.

Thick dark hair, firm jaw, intense blue eyes. The cutest little worry lines fanning out from those eyes, though she’d never once seen him upset.

And oh, his mouth. Now that was a mouth made for long kisses.

His body worked for her too. He was tall, rangy. Nice shoulders, even nicer ass. Incredible ass. She blew out a breath that ruffled her bangs. She should probably feel guilty for noticing so much about Justin, but she didn’t. Especially after tonight.

Once upon a time, she’d done more than notice him. They’d been friends, then lovers, then back to friends until they’d drifted apart. When he’d walked into her bar years later, she’d been shocked. Rough and Ready wasn’t far from the college they’d attended, just a couple of towns over, but still.

Fate was a quirky bitch. She had to be. Because what were the chances she’d start to fall for a guy she’d missed the boat with years ago? A boat she hadn’t wanted to take a cruise on at the time for a lot of reasons.

But that was then. Now? A guy who offered a pleasant, low-intensity ride between the sheets fit her needs perfectly.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” she asked, hoping her face didn’t transmit her thoughts. He was great at reading expressions. Part and parcel of his job as a high school guidance counselor.

His lips twisted slightly. Normally he smiled so easily, one of the things she loved about him. She’d been around one too many men who didn’t know how to laugh, and that Justin did was refreshing. But tonight he’d been so serious. So focused.

On her.

Her belly fluttered. Justin Norton was one fine piece of man chocolate. Maybe she’d been wrong to appreciate his body while she’d been coupled up, but now that she was single, she couldn’t see any reason not to go for it. He wasn’t oblivious to her either. From their all too brief clinch on the trail, certain parts of him seemed interested, even if the rest had yet to follow suit.

Yep, just what she loved from a guy—mixed signals.

“You seem to have the alcohol tolerance of six sailors, so no. Though I have to admit I like seeing your eyes blurry with something other than pain.”

“I’m okay.” Dwelling on what couldn’t be helped wasn’t her style. She dealt and moved on. Always had, always would. “Did your neighbor go back and pick up my snowmobile?”

“Yeah. It’s out back. Mostly scratch-free. If you wanted to learn, I’d’ve been happy to give you some lessons.”

Figured he’d teach her how to snowmobile, but he wouldn’t kiss her. She didn’t give a hoot about snowmobiling. What she needed tonight was a carnal distraction. Somehow she had to burn the image of what she’d seen at Rob’s out of her mind.

“I hadn’t planned on taking it out. It was an anniversary present. I’d never been that excited about learning, but Rob thought we’d have fun.”

Enough about Rob. Enough about the accident. She’d escaped with nothing but bruises, so she’d just count her lucky stars and move on.

His thumb worried her painful cheekbone. She couldn’t hold back the wince. “Hurts, huh?”

She shrugged off the question. Her body ached, but luckily the soreness had started to lessen. Excellent brandy, a soft, sunken couch, and the warmth of the crackling fireplace across the room had gone a long way toward healing her. As had the attention of the man sitting beside her outstretched legs.

“Why didn’t you kiss me back?”

“That again.” He tapped her lips. “You’re like a dog with a bone. Every time you wake up, same damn question.”

“It’s a good question. I’m a decent kisser. Not that you’d know.”

“Hello, we kissed several times.” His grin warmed her inside out. “And other things.”

“True enough. So did you forget to tell me you’re not into women?”

He cocked a brow. “Hardly. I think you felt just how…into you I was.”

That she had. “So? What’s the problem? Are you seeing someone? Someone you’ve conveniently forgotten to mention to me?” She punched his arm playfully, as she always did when he sat across her bar. She’d worked at Rough and Ready for close to five years and considered the place home. More of a home than anywhere else, actually, especially now that she’d been left effectively homeless.