Merry and Bright(15)

6


It was the sugar rush, Maggie told herself. That, combined with the feel of Jacob pressed up against her again, and the warmth of his mouth . . . God. This was all his fault for being such a good kisser, all his fault, she thought as she pulled him even closer.

His reaction was an immediate approving rumble from deep in his chest and a tightening of his arms. So she hugged him tighter and gave him some tongue.

Hauling her into his lap with a groan, he kissed her long and hard and wet right there in the parking lot, until her entire body shivered in delight and anticipation.

She knew what he could do for her now, to her, and that made the longing worse. Given the sound he made, and how deliciously hard he’d gotten, he felt the same. The thrill of that surged through her. This big, bad, gorgeous man had already had her and still wanted her.

She felt drunk on the knowledge. Or it might have been the sugar. Either way, he had one arm around her, the other on her jaw, holding her face for his kiss; but then he pulled back, let out an unsteady breath and a short laugh. “There’s no door to lock this time.” He rose and offered her a hand, turning to her car. “Uh-oh. What happened to your tire?”

“It got a flat.”

He crouched down next to it. “Yes, because someone slashed it.” He took a careful look around them before cutting his no-longer-heated eyes to hers. “How long were you sitting here alone before I came?

“Wait. Slashed ?” She took a closer look. “Do you think it was random?”

“Slashed tire seems pretty personal. You annoy anyone lately?”

“I annoy a lot of people. It’s part of my charming nature.” Spooked, she just stared at him. Her brain didn’t feel like it was getting enough oxygen, so she decided to sit. Her tire had been slashed. Merry Christmas to her.





Ah, hell. Jacob looked over Maggie’s head to where his truck was parked, complete with a plane ticket sitting on the front seat.

But he wasn’t going anywhere.

And not just because his heart rate was still affected by that kiss, or because Maggie’s lush mouth was still wet from his and he wanted to see what else was wet, but because he had a bad feeling that this smart, adorable, sexy woman who was nothing but trouble was in trouble. “Do you have a spare?”

“Yes.” Her voice was muffled, but then she lifted her head. “And I took a class on how to change it, too.”

Of course she had. He had a feeling this careful, organized, brilliant sexy mess could do anything she set her mind to.

“Is it hot?” she asked. “I feel hot. Maybe it’s nerves.”

“It’s not hot. It’s actually chilly.”

“Did you know that minus forty degrees Celsius is exactly the same as minus forty degrees Fahrenheit?”

“That’s a new one for me.” Knowing she was about to lose it, he took her hand. “Listen, how about I change the tire for you, while you call the police and make a report.”

“What if it’s just one of the twenty-two percent of random, senseless acts of violence that people face in their lifetime?”

He slid her a glance. “You know, you’d really kick ass on Jeopardy.”

“I already did. That’s how I paid for my PhD.”

He shook his head in admiration as he pulled out his cell phone and called the police himself, but due to a high volume of calls, they wouldn’t even come out and take a report.

“It’s okay.” Maggie pulled out her keys. “I’ll just get the spare—Uh-oh,” she said when she opened the trunk.

“Uh-oh?” He peered over her shoulder and saw nothing but stacks of craft supplies. “Where’s your spare?”

“My sister borrowed my car. She’s been volunteering at her kids’ school, and my trunk is bigger than hers. She must have taken out the spare.” She sighed. “Dammit. I’ll call her.”

“How about I just take you home?”

She lifted her gaze to his, her eyes still soft and heated, her cheeks flushed. “I don’t know.”

“You’re not spooked at having your tire slashed but you’re spooked at me driving you home?”

“Of course not.” She gnawed her cheek a moment. “It’s just that if we go to my house . . .”

He liked where that sentence was going. “Yeah?”

“Nothing. A ride would be great, thank you.”

She squirmed all the way to her place in the Glendale Hills above L.A., her brain working so hard he could practically hear the wheels whirling. He pulled into the gated complex of her condo unit and looked at her. “Maggie.”

She jumped. “Yes?”

“You do know this was just a ride, right?”

Her face flushed. “Of course. Just because we . . .”

“Had sex.”

She winced. “Yes, that. Which doesn’t mean we’re going to pull off all our clothes and have more sex.”

“Do you want to?”

She stared at him. “It was just a one-time thing.” She seemed to hold her breath. “Right?”

He stroked a strand of hair along her temple. “It’s whatever we want it to be. What do you want it to be, Maggie?”