Chance Encounter(24)

“I’ve warned you about looking at me like that,” he said in a low voice.

“I know.” But she kept doing it.

“I won’t be your latest adventure, Ally.”

“Why not?”

He let out a rough laugh. “We’re too different.”

“That I noticed.” He wasn’t attracted to her. It was a sobering fact. She’d always wanted to feel the sexuality most women seemed to feel, and make a man feel it in return, but she hadn’t, not with Thomas, not with anyone. “I understand.” It wasn’t as if she’d had expectations—okay, maybe she had. But who wouldn’t? He was so beautiful, so uninhibited, so damn hot. “I don’t do it for you.”

“You don’t what?”

She looked up into his eyes. “You know, make you horny.”

“No?” Snagging her hips in his hands, he rocked them to his, hard, so that she couldn’t help but feel the long, heated bulge behind his zipper.

“Oh,” she whispered.

Their bodies brushed together again and every bit as affected by their nearness as she, he drew in a harsh breath.

Encouraged, she lifted a hand to stroke his jaw, because she’d been dying to do that all day.

Only he caught her fingers in his and stopped her. “Don’t.”

The word seemed torn from him. “Kiss me,” she whispered.

He stared at her. “This is a really bad idea, but for the life of me, I can’t remember why.”

“Good.”

“Remind me.”

“No way.” Then because he was holding her hand, and her other was wrapped around his neck, she tugged until she could slide her cheek along his. “Kiss me, Chance, come on, just one kiss.”

Another rough laugh rumbled in his chest, and he slid his fingers into her hair, lifting her face, looking into her gaze for a long moment before lowering his mouth to just the corner of hers. He dabbled there, then nibbled his way to the other corner, making a deep sound of pleasure at the taste of her. “Tell me no.”

“Yes.”

“Ally.”

Her insides melted at the sound of her name on his lips, then dissolved completely when he tilted her head to match up their mouths.

It should have been just one simple little kiss. Only there was nothing simple or little about it. Her senses revved, her legs weakened. Her heart soared, and she murmured his name, wanting more, so much more.

He complied, drawing one hand down her spine to her bottom, squeezing, pressing her even closer. His other cupped the bare skin of her neck, his thumb stroking her jaw as his mouth teased and coaxed hers.

When he pulled back, she gripped his shirt in her fists and held on because the connection had become far more important than breathing.

“You said one kiss,” he reminded her, his eyes dark, his voice raspy and rough.

“I lied.”

A low moan escaped him, then he kissed her again, long and slow, wet and deep, taking his sweet time. This time when the kiss ended, they were both panting, and he rested his forehead against her brow. “You’re not what I planned on.”

“What did you plan on?”

“Not feeling as though you’ve blown into my life like a fist to the gut, that’s for damn sure.” His mouth was still wet from hers, and he looked hot and bothered.

That made two of them.

Only his brow was furrowed with intensity, his eyes filled with mysteries and secrets he had no intentions of sharing with her. And looking deep into his gaze, she knew the truth. She was going to be leaving here all too soon, and she’d done what she’d sworn not to do.

She’d gotten her poor heart involved.



TWO DAYS LATER Chance found himself filling in on mountain bike patrol. It was hard, hot work, and though he’d never had a problem with that, by the end of the afternoon, after warning oblivious first-timers of the danger of leaving the trail, after chasing not so oblivious bikers who should have known better against the same thing, he longed to rip down the steep terrain, tearing up the dirt, wind flying in his face.

Longed to break all his own rules.

How he’d ended up with so many rules to begin with was beyond him. When he’d left home at age seventeen, his parents had welcomed his restlessness with pride, sending him off with smiles as he’d backpacked across the globe, getting into one scrape after another and loving every moment of it.

Until Tina.

After her death, he’d somehow landed in Wyoming, with twenty bucks and a tired spirit. The remoteness, the sheer vastness, the very wildness of the land called to him as nowhere else ever had.

Luckily for him, Lucy had taken one look, and had hired him on the spot. He’d been given a tremendous amount of freedom, coupled with all the thrill and adventure he could make for himself.

And he’d made plenty. He needed some now.

The minute the mountain closed to paying customers, the second he ripped off the vest that qualified him as an authority figure, he put his bike over his shoulder onto his back and climbed the mountain so he could go down his way—mind-blowingly fast. No responsibility. No Brian dogging him. No Ally blinking her big eyes at him.

Nothing but his own company.

Halfway up, the radio on his hip crackled. Damn, he should have turned it off.

“Hey, boss,” came Jo’s voice. “Lucy on line two. She wants to tell you not to break a leg.”