Loretta laughed. "No, I don't think that'll be necessary."
Frankly, Loretta was surprised they had even shown up in Bash's bar. Krista, Piper, and Tanya tended to congregate at the Hope Country Club, and she wouldn't have thought they would ever stray to a bar like this. She got the idea this had been an ambush.
And a failed one, at that.
Chelsea was still shooting visual daggers at the women. "Well now you have to tell us all about them, because I love gossip."
They took their seats, and Deacon sat next to her. "I'm going to want to talk to you about this later."
She nodded, and smiled when he laid his arm around the back of her chair, as if he half expected the three women to come at her from behind.
She felt protected by her crew, and she couldn't be happier about that.
She noticed the women had gotten up and walked out. Just as she'd surmised, they hadn't come to the No Hope At All bar to hang out. They'd come here specifically to confront her.
"Well, the air is so much more breathable now that cloyingly designer-perfumed group has left," Sam said with a wrinkle of her nose. "Who wants a drink refill?"
While Sam and Reid went to refill their drinks, Josie turned to Loretta. "So what is it with those women?"
Loretta grabbed her beer and leaned back in her chair. "We were best friends growing up and all through high school. We were cheerleaders together. We did everything together. But I guess their idea of friendship and mine don't exactly mesh. After I divorced my ex and moved back to Hope, they stopped in the bookstore to . . . express their extreme disappointment in my life choices."
Josie frowned. "What? Why?"
"Because they're all about social status. My ex is running for Congress. His family is well connected here in Hope."
"They're the country club type," Chelsea said.
"Oh." Jillian wrinkled her nose. "So money and status mean more than lifelong friendship."
She stared down at her bottle of beer. "I suppose so."
"Well, screw that," Molly said. "You don't need them when you have us. We may not be fancy money people, but we'll always have your back."
Emma nodded. "Absolutely. Consider us your lifelong friends now."
Sam held up her glass of wine. "Let's drink to true friendship, where we don't give a damn about money or social status or how fancy your shoes are."
Chelsea nodded. "This is true. I have fancy shoes, and you all love me anyway."
Loretta laughed. "I really like you people."
"Give us time, Loretta," Chelsea said. "You'll fall madly in love with us."
She glanced over at Deacon, who gave her an enigmatic look.
Loretta gave the entire table a grateful smile. "Oh, I have no doubt of that."
Chapter 15
* * *
THEY ATE THE appetizers Loretta had ordered, then ended up staying for dinner. She had a wonderful grilled chicken salad, which tasted so good when washed down with the iced tea she'd switched to for the meal. After the hard work of the game, she was hungry.
Deacon had a grilled chicken salad along with iced tea as well.
"Good?" she asked.
"Yeah. I was hungry."
"Me, too. Running bases works up an appetite. I'd forgotten how many calories I burn playing softball."
He grinned. "You'll be sore tomorrow."
"No doubt."
"Did you have fun tonight?"
She grinned. "I had a great time."
Everyone decided to leave after dinner since it was a work night for most of them. She hugged all of them for coming to her defense.
"You're all my heroes. Thank you. And thanks for letting me play on the team."
"You're one of us, now, Loretta," Sam said. "Though you were one of us before the softball game anyway."
Sam hugged Josie, too. "And you're one of us, too. Especially since you were ready to brawl. Here you are, all sweet and unassuming, and you were the first one threatening to kick the shit out of those women."
Josie laughed. "Well, no one threatens my friends."
"Obviously we need to keep an eye on you, Josie," Bash said, slinging an arm around her. "You're a good ally to have."
"And a good friend," Molly said. "So you might as well get used to all of us."
Josie looked taken aback, but she smiled anyway. "I really appreciate it. It's good to feel like one of the group."
Loretta pulled Josie aside. "Thanks again for having my back."
"You're welcome."
"Oh, and that book you ordered is in, if you want to stop by after school tomorrow."
"Thanks for letting me know. And I will."
Loretta and Deacon left the bar and got in Deacon's truck. He headed north toward her ranch.
"That was an eventful night."
She laughed. "I'll say."
"Did you enjoy the softball game?"
"Very much."
"So you're in as far as playing again?"
"I'd love to. And I know Hazel would enjoy coming along to watch once she gets back home."
"I'll bet she will."
When they got to her place, she opened the front door. Otis dashed outside and attacked them with love.
"Otis, down," she said, not that it did any good. She turned to Deacon. "Want to come inside for some iced tea or water?"
"Sure."
She was happy he didn't hesitate. He followed her inside, and she dropped her things at the front door, then headed into the kitchen to pour the iced tea. She turned, and Deacon was right behind her.
"Oh. I didn't know you were there."
"Sit."
He was frowning. And then she frowned. "I am not Otis."
"But you are limping. Sit so I can take a look at you."
She laughed. "I'm fine. I can do that later."
"Your elbows are scraped from that slide at home plate. I want to see your knees."
She cocked her head to the side. "Oooh, you want to see my knees? Is that some secret man code for 'I want to get you naked'?"
"No. If I want to get you naked, Loretta, you'll know it. Now sit."
Damn. She was hot and bothered and more than prepared to strip naked, as long as Deacon would be willing to do the same.
"Where's your first aid stuff?"
She lifted her gaze to his. "My what?"
"First aid stuff, Loretta."
"Oh. Under the hall bathroom sink."
"Okay. I'll be right back."
She watched him walk away, her focus on his butt. He'd always had a great behind. It was even better now. She'd loved to put her hands on him. She remembered grabbing handfuls of his butt when he was on top of her and--
"Okay, I think I've got everything I need," he said as he came out of the bathroom.
She watched him walk toward her.
Yeah, he definitely had everything she needed.
But he wasn't looking at her in the way she wanted him to. Dammit. She supposed she should get the fantasies of sex with Deacon out of her head. Or should she? Even watching him walk toward her was a turn-on. He moved like a predator stalking its prey.
Maybe she wanted to be the prey. Then again, maybe she was just reading things into his walk that weren't there.
But as he sauntered toward her, his hips swaying in a dangerous fashion, she didn't think she was imagining the sexy. The man was just downright hot, no doubt about it.
And when he knelt down in front of her, she felt a little faint. Which was ridiculous, of course. This was Deacon, a man she'd known almost half her life. Nothing new here, right?
Except everything with him seemed new and different now, from the way they reacted around each other to the way he looked at her. And maybe the way she behaved around him, too, as if this was the first time . . .
"Ouch." She snapped her attention from fantasyland to downright pain.
"You bled. Your pants are stuck to the dried blood on your knees. This is going to hurt. I'm sorry."
He sai
d the words calmly, as if he'd been the one to cause her knees to be scraped.
"It's okay."
He lifted his gaze to hers. "You ready?"
She was so ready--not for the first aid, but for him. She nodded. "Yes."
He gently raised her capri pants over her knees, taking his time pulling the fabric away from her skin.
This wasn't the first time she'd scraped her knees. She'd done it plenty in high school, so she knew the drill.
"Not so bad," he said as he looked her over, then wet a cloth and wiped the blood away.
It stung, but she held still and let Deacon wash off the blood and dirt. After he cleaned the wounds with soap, water, and hydrogen peroxide, he applied antibiotic ointment and bandaged them.
"These pants are toast, ya know."
She shrugged. "I'll get over it."
"Good. And you should slip out of them so they don't rub against these bandages. Here, let me help you up so you can take them off."
Now things were getting interesting. He held out his hand and helped her stand. Which she could do just fine, but hey, she wasn't going to give up the opportunity for touching.
"You do the top part," he said, "and I'll hold the bottom part out so they don't pull the bandages away, okay?"
"Works for me." She shrugged out of the pants, grateful she'd done laundry last night and had decent underwear on today. The pink silk ones, too. She hoped Deacon would notice.
She grabbed on to the waistband of her capris and tugged over her hips.
Deacon stilled.
"Something wrong?" she asked.
He cleared his throat. "Uh, no."
His voice had gone deeper. Her lips curved, because she caught him staring at her underwear.
Awesome.
She shimmied the pants down around her knees, then Deacon carefully drew them over the bandages and down around her ankles. She stepped out of them.
He looked up at her. "That's better."
Definitely better for her. "Thanks."
"Now sit again and we'll do your arms."
There were other parts of her she'd like him to "do," but she kept her thoughts to herself. For the moment, anyway.
He sat next to her on the bench. "You should probably pull your shirt off so we don't have to drag it over the wounds."
"Oh, sure, get me half naked while you're fully clothed." She drew her shirt off and set it aside.
Oh, yeah, buddy, matching pink satin demi bra. Ogle away.
And he did. Though he didn't look happy about it.
He leveled a most frustrated look at her. "Loretta, this isn't a game of Strip First Aid."
Her lips quivered into a half smile. "It's not? Because that sounds like all kinds of fun. We each take a piece of clothing off, and then take turns bandaging each other's . . . parts."
She took a quick glance at one of his parts, which was semierect.
Most definitely all kinds of fun.
"No."
She looked up at him. "Oh, come on. Where's your sense of adventure, Deacon?"
"I'm trying to help you out here."
"Yes, but you know, Deacon, there are other ways you could help me out."
He laid the clean washcloth in his lap, right over his erection. Too late--she'd already seen it.
"Loretta."
"Deacon." She made a point of giving him a look that told him in all raw honesty how she felt.
He dipped the washcloth in the water. "You're going to have to stop doing that."
"Stop doing what?"
He gently washed the scrapes on her elbows. "You know what. Looking at me like you want to eat me alive. Like you're hungry."
That was one way of putting it. "I want you, Deacon. I think I made that clear the other night."
He dragged in a breath, rinsed out the washcloth, and put the bowl on the kitchen table. He opened the bottle of hydrogen peroxide to clean her scrapes. "Stop it."
She let out a soft laugh. "I can't stop it." She tipped his chin with her fingers and lifted his face so he was looking at her, not at her elbows. "You don't really want me to stop, do you?"
"What I want is to bandage your elbows."
She took the bandages from his hands and laid those on the table, too. "You know what? My elbows are fine. I heal really fast."
She slid onto his lap and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "What I'd really like is for you to kiss me."
"We've been over this."
"Yes, we have, but now I'm trying again and hoping you'll say yes." She teased her fingers into the silky softness of his hair.
The look he gave her was dark and dangerous, like a man cocked and loaded with desire and just about near the edge of restraint.
Just where she wanted him.
"You know, Loretta, if you play with fire you just might get burned."
She shuddered as she drew in a breath. "Then burn it all down, Deacon, and take me with you."
When his mouth captured hers, it was like a strike of lightning. Hot, fast, and burning her up from the inside out.
Chapter 16
* * *
DEACON COULDN'T GET close enough to Loretta, couldn't breathe her in deeply enough, couldn't touch her skin enough to satisfy his need for her.
He'd tried like hell to stay away, to keep what was between them cordial and friendly and strictly hands-off.
Until she'd teased and flirted with him and asked him to kiss her--twice. And now she was in his lap in that wicked pink underwear, writhing against him and making his dick so hard he could bury himself inside of her right here on the kitchen table.
He had a lot of restraint, but she wasn't being coy about this at all, and he'd lost all his control when he'd had his head about an inch from Loretta's promised land. Her scent was the sweetest honey, and all he wanted to do was remove her underwear and spend the rest of the night making her cry out his name over and over again.
She whimpered against his mouth and wriggled against him and he swore if he didn't get inside of her tonight his balls would end up twisted together from the torment. Because all he'd been doing lately was thinking about what it would be like to get Loretta naked.
Now she was halfway there, and there was no stopping him. He lifted her in his arms and carried her toward the bedroom. As they passed by a sleeping Otis, the dog's left ear twitched, but that was all the acknowledgment he gave them as they headed toward Loretta's bedroom.
Good. Because he was more than ready to shuck his clothes and the wisps of pink satin Loretta had on. Damn, that lingerie was driving him crazy.
He'd tried for so long not to imagine her underwear, or the softness of her skin, or the way she always smelled like strawberries, because doing so would only lead to walks down memory lane and trouble. He'd had enough trouble where Loretta was concerned, and if he was honest with himself right now, he shouldn't be taking her to bed.
But he wanted her, she wanted him, and he'd think about the repercussions of what they were doing later.
He deposited her on her bed, and she stretched out in the center of it, all long limbs and pink satin underwear.
His dick throbbed.
He tugged at his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it onto a bench at the end of the bed. "You know, when we were younger, we only did this what? Maybe a dozen times, despite the fact we were together all through high school."
She lifted up on her elbows, watching him intently. "Yes, and I remember all of them."
He kicked off his shoes and reached down to pull off his socks, then undid the buckle of his jeans. "Back then, there weren't a lot of places we could be alone. I always felt rushed with you."
Her gaze was hot as it traveled his body. He dropped his pants, then shrugged out of his underwear. He heard her sharp intake of breath, and oh, man, did that feel good.
"Yes, I remember that, too." She rose up on her knees and unhooked her bra, letting the straps slide down her arms. She took the bra and added it to his pile of clothes.
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Damn, she was beautiful. More beautiful now than she'd been when she was a teenager. Her body had matured, was curvier than it had been back then. Her breasts were fuller, and he reached out to trace them with his fingertips, letting his fingers linger near her left breast to feel the mad thumping of her heart.
Yeah, he knew that feeling. This was intense--not really the first time for them, but for some reason it felt like the first time all over again.
He came over to the edge of the bed, and so did Loretta.
"But tonight we're alone, and I don't think Otis is going to interrupt us, so I intend to take all damn night long making love to you, Loretta. You okay with that?"
She wound her fingers in his hair. "Totally okay with that, Deacon. I have a box of condoms I bought on impulse the other day, so I think we're good."
He wrapped an arm around her. "Okay, but first I need to tell you that--"
She put her fingers up to his lips. "Deacon. I'm an adult now. I don't need romance. I know what this is, and what it isn't. We've been through that together already and, considering our history, I don't think we want to go there again. I know I don't. We're two consenting adults having sex. Nothing more. Okay?"
He nodded. He hadn't wanted to bring it up, but he also didn't want to mislead Loretta or in any way want her to think this was something other than just sex between them. "Okay."
She rubbed her breasts against his chest. "Good. Now that all the talking is out of the way, let's get to the fun stuff. Because I'm going to warn you, Deacon. It's been a really long time for me. There's been a severe drought. The well has been dry. Do you need me to spout any more euphemisms, or do you get the idea?"
"I more than get the idea." He pushed her down onto the bed, then gently pulled her legs to the edge. She might play all tough like nothing bothered or hurt her, but he'd slid to home plate before, and those kinds of scrapes stung, so he intended to be careful with her tonight.
Plus, it wasn't her knees or elbows he wanted to concentrate on. He leaned over her, feasting his eyes on the most beautiful woman he'd ever known, the one who'd captured his heart all those years ago.
Her dark hair was spread across the pillow like silken feathers, her eyes staring up at him with naked desire. He leaned in and brushed his lips across hers.
Like velvet. He pushed in farther, slipping his tongue in between her teeth. Her tongue met his and it was a slow tangle. He wanted to make sure he didn't hurry this along, because, oh, man, could he ever hurry this along.