He quirked a smile. “What’s there to think about?”
“Well, for one, consider what you’re getting into. ”
“What I’m getting into?” A medley of expressions crossed his face, all of them some variation of amused and dirty. “Darlin’, I can think of ten responses to that, and I don’t think you’d like one of them. ”
She removed his hand from her face. “You know what I mean. ”
“No, Laura, I’m afraid I don’t. ”
“Think about it. Sierra Falls is tiny. We’ll see each other everywhere. At the gas station, tavern, grocery store…”
“Sounds good to me. ”
“And what will people think?” Did she want everyone to see her as his girlfriend—or someday ex-girlfriend? And what about her family? Or his family? She ran into Jessups everywhere.
He stepped closer. “I don’t give a good Goddamn what people think. I think I’d like to kiss you. ”
She wanted that, too, but…She tried to think of another reason. “Eddie, really…”
“Really,” he coaxed in a husky voice. He wrapped his hand around her waist, easing her closer, and God, he felt so good.
“I’ve got work to do,” she said weakly.
“Just one kiss. ”
She clutched that bottle of peroxide to her like armor and pressed her other palm against his chest to hold him back. Did he have to have such a thin T-shirt and such a hard, hot body? “I’ve got to get back to the tavern. ”
She couldn’t be doing this. Couldn’t be doing it with Eddie. Eddie Jessup, for goodness’ sake, the twelfth-grade screwup. The guy who’d toilet-papered the principal’s house. Who’d shown up to prom drunk.
Who used his own money to take underprivileged kids on camping trips.
“Just one kiss. ” He ran a finger down her cheek. “Come on. I see you caving. ”
She had to get a handle on this. “We cannot be hooking up in my childhood bedroom. ”
“Why the hell not?” When she didn’t reply, his face warmed into the sweetest smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Fine, sugar. It’s your show. No hooking up. ” He added innocently, “Just one kiss. ”
She wasn’t strong enough to simply turn and walk out on him, but she knew a man like him would need mollifying. “One kiss. Fine. ” She stood on her tippy-toes and gave him a quick, chaste peck on the cheek. “Okay?” But as she returned to her feet, her chest brushed against his and her body began to pulse.
Their eyes met. Held.
“That all you got for me?” His voice was a deep, rich rasp. His eyes were glued on her mouth, and they were hooded, dark in a way that made her shiver. He angled his pelvis to hers and, with a wicked half smile, brushed his jeans against her ever so slightly. He was a rock.
Her breath caught. “I don’t usually go this fast,” she managed.
“Fast?” He gave a husky little laugh. “Laura, we’ve known each other since we were five. Any slower and our next kiss will be in a retirement home. Come on. ” He leaned close to whisper, “Just one more. ”
“Aw, hell. ” The peroxide bottle dropped to the ground as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down and kissing him hard.
He moaned, and the feel of it reverberated through her. She opened her mouth wider, grabbed his shoulders and tugged him closer. For a moment, she couldn’t get him close enough. Couldn’t touch him enough. She ran her hands through his hair, pressed her breasts against his chest, chafed her palms against the sandpaper stubble along his cheeks.
He was two people. He was Eddie Jessup, the bad boy. The one you didn’t bring home to Mama. The Eddie who’d always tickled her imagination. Who’d made her wonder how and if. The Eddie it felt so deliciously wrong to kiss.
But then he was also Eddie the man, who’d fixed their window, and called her dad sir, and phoned Fairview just for her. The one who mentored at-risk kids.
Which Eddie was her body responding to? Young Eddie might’ve been a bad boy, but Eddie the man was far more dangerous.
When they parted, his eyes bored into hers like he might peer down to her soul.