Page 23 of Moonshine and Magnolias (Just Add Peaches #1)

He hadn’t made any sense, but she didn’t seem to notice. Or care. She gave a harsh, bitter laugh that surprised him. “I can wander around my home. Which this is, whether I want it or not. So I can go wherever I feel like. If you don’t want to be with me, you leave.”

She picked up a peach and threw it at him. It missed by about ten feet.

“Fiddlesticks.” She picked up another one and tossed it up and down a few times. “That should have been an easy out. I must be drunker than I thought.”

“So let me walk you home.” Another peach sailed over Rob’s head and he ducked.

She was fast. A sudden thump on Rob’s scalp was followed quickly by a warm, wet stickiness that coated his hair and the side of his face. A peach rolled down his chest and legs, ending in a deformed mess at his feet.

“Oh, no. Dr. Upshaw!” Wendy rushed over to him, her hands pulling his head forward into her glorious breasts while she frantically brushed at his hair, spreading the juice like styling gel. “Are you okay?”

So, he was back to being Dr. Upshaw? The hit didn’t hurt beyond the initial contact, and the pillow of her breasts was much nicer than the pillow on his bed. Her concern sparked an idea. He put a hand to his head and let out a moan. “Owwwwwwww.”

“You’re hurt!” The panic in Wendy’s voice was unmistakable. Just what he wanted.

“No, it’s fine.” He grimaced through the non-existent pain and held up a hand as if to stop her worry. He took an exaggerated breath. “I’ll be okay.”

“I am so sorry! So, so sorry. Let me get you back to the house.”

Score one for him .

Wendy ducked under his shoulder to support him, apologizing profusely with each step. Her lithe body molded to his side and he concentrated on her alcoholic fumes to keep his mind off the deliciously physical contact.

“Poor man. I was so thoughtless.” Her face scrunched up like she was on the verge of tears. “I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you. That wasn’t even my fastball.”

“I feel much better.”

“You don’t have to be brave for me. I know how good a pitcher I am.

That must have really hurt.” Her green eyes stared up at him, her mouth tight with distress.

She swept her fingers gently over his face, stroking his hair back.

The light touch brought a sizzle to his nerve endings.

He closed his eyes against her enchantment and conjured thoughts of his family puzzle. His lying. His deception.

That killed his libido right quick.

They reached the split staircase leading to the front door and Wendy sat him on the lowest step. “I’m going to get your brother,” she said. “He can help me get you up the stairs.”

She started to go inside, but Rob grabbed her hand. “We can just sit here instead.”

“Hal should know how badly you’re hurt.” Wendy nibbled at her lower lip.

He’d never hear the end of it. “I’m feeling much better. The walk helped.”

Her fingers threaded his juicy hair in an attempt to locate his non-existent wound. “Can I get you anything? Some ice? Let me get you some ice.”

“No. Just sit.” He grasped her fingers and gently drew them away from his head, mourning the loss of her touch.

She plunked down without any hesitation and snuggled against him.

Her curves fit against his body in the perfect locations.

He hesitated before bringing his arm around her smooth shoulders.

The urge to touch her, to feel her skin, was too much for him to resist. It would only be for a few minutes.

Then he’d escort her upstairs and explain things to his brother.

Just a little more time where he could sit with her in silence.

She ran her finger down his jawline, eliciting a shudder at her touch. His will power was running on sheer fumes. She slid her very female form up his body and kissed him.

Her lips landed next to his, gently tugging and caressing his skin. He gripped the banister. It was the only way to keep from raising her up and settling her on his lap.

She giggled. “Silly. You’re supposed to kiss my mouth.” Her voice came close to his ear.

She tried again. This time, her aim was true.

And he wasn’t a saint.

She clamped her hands on either side of his head and mashed herself against him. His body ached with pleasure as her hardened nipples pressed into his chest. He returned the kiss with an urgent hunger for the summery taste of her, maintaining enough rationale to keep his grip on the railing.

She sighed in pleasure and nibbled under his jaw, making the strain in his pants almost unbearable. It was a wonder he didn’t tear the metal banister into pieces in his quest to keep from touching her. “Wendy,” he groaned.

“I know,” she panted. “Don’t speak.” She pulled at the neck of his shirt and kissed his exposed skin.

It wasn’t right. It wasn’t right but it felt so damn good. She felt so damn good and he didn’t want her to stop. With an act of restraint he hadn’t known he possessed, he grasped her hands and stilled them against his chest. “Wendy.” He tried to regulate his breathing. “We can’t do this.”

Her breath came in short, fast bursts. “You’re right. Let’s go inside.”

Not quite what he was thinking, but he followed her into the house. She stood in front of the grand staircase. “Too far. Let’s go to the library.”

She waited until he moved passed her into the room and slid the door closed. In one smooth motion, she lifted her halter over her head. It flitted to the floor, exposing perfect breasts barely covered by a black lace bra.

Rob closed his eyes and turned his back to her. He wanted to touch her. Wanted to taste her perfect breasts. Wanted to sink into her wet heat and feel her legs wrapped around his waist. But not now. Not when she wasn’t in complete control of herself.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded, her voice laced with tears. “You said I was pretty. You want to kiss me.”

God, did he want to kiss her. And often. He scrubbed at his face with his hands, hoping for some measure of sanity.

She let out a wail so harsh and so deep it echoed in his chest. It was soon muffled. He turned around.

Wendy had picked up her shirt and was holding it to her face while she rocked on the sofa, her head almost touching her knees. “And Brandi’s not even here!”

How did her cousin factor into this? The wise thing would be for him to keep his distance and fetch Ms. Eulalee. Instinct warned him that the strong, independent woman he knew wouldn’t want to be seen in a puddle of tears. “What happened tonight?”

She wrenched herself up to look at him, tears and makeup creating tracks down her cheeks. Her eyes registered her confusion. “What?”

“While you were out. What happened?” He took a throw from the back of the sofa and draped it over her shoulders.

Wendy was quiet for a moment after that. When she turned to Rob again, her body had hunched in on itself, making her seem smaller. Vulnerable. Entirely off limits. “Nothing.”

The tears started again. The soundless flow turned into a rolling wave. Rob sat on the sofa and she clung to him. Remaining a passive bystander was out of the question. He pulled her against his chest, feeling each sob as it racked her body.

“I’ve always done what I’m supposed to do. I’m responsible and organized. I’m smart.” She wiped her eyes. “And I may be pretty, but Jordan is prettier. Brandi is prettier. I bet you’d rather be with her, even though she’s forgetful and unorganized and doesn’t make lists.”

Brandi was pretty, sure. Common though, not like Wendy’s unique glow. “Not true. ”

“Why does someone dance with me, then ask me about my friends?”

“Because they’re idiots.”

Wendy stared at him before letting out a snort. “I like you.” She tucked her legs onto the sofa and curled into his side. “I can start over again tomorrow. Stay here with me tonight.”

***

A shrill ringing dragged Wendy into consciousness, sending shards of a dream out of her imagination. She grappled to hold them before they disappeared like a rabbit after a wave of the magician’s wand. It had been warm and loving and she had been free.

Now the nightmare took over, complete with a headache, fuzzy mouth, and being suffocated by her hair. Sunlight filtered in between the slats of the wooden blinds, casting lines of light on her body. And the body next to her. The hard planes at her back was definitely not her soft, comfortable bed.

Shit.

“Do you need to get the door?” a voice from the body rumbled.

She jumped up, her blanket slithering to the floor. Oh, thank goodness. She was in the Fountenoy Hall library with Rob – Dr. Upshaw – no, pretty sure he was Rob now – lying on the sofa.

“Oh. It’s you.” And the most likely cause of her dream.

“Good morning.” His voice was rough and husky and sent flashes of need between her legs. He scrubbed at his face and swung his legs to sit up. Fully clothed. One thick brow and one hazel eye peeked over his fingers and he gestured with his free hand. “Your shirt is on the floor somewhere.”

Her hands flew up to her chest and covered her breasts. Even though her bra wasn’t designed for seduction, it was the only layer between Rob and her hardening nipples. Heat streaked up her face.

“Uh, thanks.” She stood up and turned her back to him until she found the red material, then pulled it over her head. It looked like it had been decorated by a three-year-old with a black paintbrush, but it strengthened the barrier between their bodies.

She covertly took stock of the situation while she willed her overwrought hormones to chill. No pleasant soreness emanated from between her legs. No red splotches from stubble showed on her skin. No scent of sex permeated the air. So what the hell was she doing without her shirt on?

The bell rang again.

“Aunt Eulalee is on call. She’ll get it. You and your brother are the only guests here at the moment, other than my friends.” The elastic in her hair held half her normal ponytail. She took it all the way out and finger-combed the strands. Each tug increased the pressure in her head.

She ran through her stilted memory of the previous night while she scanned the tables for her phone. An image of her hitting him with a peach flickered in her mind and she winced. “Are you okay?”

He let out a low, sexy chuckle. “Completely fine. How about you? Can I get you some coffee?”

The thought rolled her stomach and she gave a quick shake, inviting the headache to bring a friend.

Now, if he had offered aspirin, she’d be all over it.

Memories opened up in her mind, of their faces being close, too close.

Her lips tingled with the recollection and she touched her mouth.

“Did we… I mean, did I…” She sighed. Best get it over with. “Did I kiss you last night?”

She sensed his hesitation when he stood up and ran his hands down the thighs of his jeans. “Yes.”

She shifted farther away from him, not sure how that should make her feel. “Did you kiss me?” Part of her didn’t want to know.

He snagged a lock of her hair, letting it slide gracefully through his fingers, and his eyes held a hint of tenderness. It almost made her afraid to hear the answer.

“Your cheek.”

Not what she had expected him to say. “That’s it?”

“You got a bit more insistent later, but I kept my virtue intact. ”

“Oh.” She squeezed her eyes shut and fought the embarrassment. “I’m sorry. Is that why I’m shirtless? Was I trying to seduce you?”

“Wendy.”

His voice held her close, a balm for the past and the future and the right now. Her stomach rolled again, as much from his tone as her imbibing. She didn’t dare look at him.

He brushed her hair back and rested his hand on her shoulder, sending shivers down her skin.

When he didn’t say anything, she finally looked up.

His eyes were filled with a warmth that found its way to her heart.

“I don’t want last night to be our first kiss,” he said.

“When that happens, it will be because it’s right. Not because you need validation.”

What did that mean? She didn’t need anyone saying nice things to her to make her feel better. It was a usually a lie, anyway.

“I think you’re pretty,” he continued, his beautiful mouth fighting a grin. “And you’re able to find the best in a bad situation, and can light up a room when you let yourself smile. Being with you has never been boring.”

His words held the ring of truth. Everything that she wanted to hear came so casually from his lips, made her believe she could be what he thought. “You don’t have to tell me this to make me feel better.”

“I’m not.” He smoothed his fingers over hers. “Let me take you out and I’ll prove it to you.”

She wanted to believe the desire in his eyes, the passion in his voice. Instead, she huffed out a quick breath to regain control of herself. “I can’t.”

Rob smiled, the corner of his eyes crinkling. He took her hand and stroked her fingers. The gentle, physical contact had her mesmerized. Why couldn’t she just say she wanted him?

“Look.” Rob caressed her with his thumb.

“The woman I saw last night, the pissed-off one who clocked me with a peach. The one with fire and passion. That’s you.

That’s who you’re meant to be. Not this woman in smoke and shadows who always pulls her hair up and won’t let anyone in because she fears she won’t measure up. ”

Pain lanced through her, fast and sharp like an arrow. How did he see so much? “How can you say that? You don’t know me,” she choked out. She wanted to berate him, to defend herself, but her control was close enough to slipping as it was. She couldn’t let that happen.

He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them, his warm breath tickling her knuckles. “I do know you. Don’t close yourself off. You’re feeling something. Tell me what it is.”