Guilty Needs(23)
“Yeah.” He slid his hand down, cupped it over the back of her neck. An unconscious gesture, she suspected, as he focused his dark amber gaze on Alyssa’s gravestone. “I’m going to love her for the rest of my life.”
Her heart broke. It was amazing that he didn’t hear the way it cracked inside her chest, amazing she didn’t drop lifeless to his feet as it shattered into thousands of useless pieces. “I know you will.”
His gaze came back to her then and her useless, shattered heart trembled at the look in his eyes. But it was just a fantasy. He couldn’t really be looking at her like that. Looking at her with something an awful lot like desire—and more.
Just a fantasy, she told herself as the sound of cars approaching broke the silence and ended the weird tension in the air. As one, they turned their heads, watched as a funeral procession turned off the main road into the cemetery. He stood and held out a hand. “I don’t really want to hang around here for this. Do you?”
She grimaced. “Not especially.” Tracking the line of cars with her eyes, she slid him a glance. “Are you parked there?”
“Yeah. Maybe we could get something to eat and you could bring me to get my car later.”
“I’m on my bike.” She glanced up at the sky, but to her surprise, the leaden gray clouds were clearing up and sun was starting to stream through.
Colby shrugged. “I don’t care.”
“I don’t have an extra helmet.”
“I don’t care.”
Bree opened her mouth to say something else. Then she glanced back at the funeral procession and the unending line of cars. Alyssa’s funeral had been like that, attended by so many people that the parking lots had overflowed. If they were going to leave, it needed to be soon.
Five minutes later, he mounted the bike behind her, rested his hands on her waist as she started it up. Already, cars were heading their way, coming around the back road toward the smaller parking lot. Bree whipped out of there before the first of the cars made it halfway down the lane.
Heat.
Shit, the heat of her was going to kill him. Even if guilt decided to rear its ugly head and make him suffer for what he was thinking, the heat would kill him before guilt had a chance.
The vibrations of the bike rumbled through him and he sat plastered against the long, slender line of her back. Involuntarily, his hands tightened on her waist and he had to consciously relax them. Worse, his body reacted to the nearness of hers and he knew there was no way in hell he could hide it.
Maybe she wouldn’t notice.
And maybe it was snowing in hell at that very moment. His dick ached, his entire body was drawn tight and all he could think about was getting her to pull the bike over and turn to face him.
He didn’t know what the hell he was doing—well, that was wrong. He did know what he was doing, though he hadn’t planned on starting it here. Great timing, slick. Make a move on her at the cemetery. But he hadn’t exactly made a move on her. He’d just done what felt right. Colby had been with one woman for more than half his life—back when other guys were learning to deliver lines, he’d been focused on one girl—just one. He’d never spent any time learning whatever rules went along with dating and shit, because he’d never had to. He knew the rules of courtesy, because his mother had drummed them into him.
But dating? Flirting? No. Doing what seemed right was all he knew.
And this—riding on the back of Bree’s bike with her slender back pressed close to him—seemed right.
Minutes sped by as she took the winding road farther into the hills, away from the small country cemetery and even farther away from the sprawl of the city. He had an idea where she was headed. She confirmed it a few minutes later, slowing for a light as they neared the small town roughly fifteen miles away from the cemetery. Over her shoulder, she said, “I thought we could just go to the winery and grab a sandwich at the café. Kill an hour or so. That work?”
An hour. He could think of a better way to kill an hour.
Damn it, get your brain away from your dick, he told himself, disgusted. But then he heard it again. Alyssa’s soft, certain whisper.
She’s the reason you came back…
“Works for me.”
He felt too good behind her. Bree knew she needed to get off the bike and get some distance between them, and the winery was the closest place to eat that she could think of, other than her house, and she sure as hell wasn’t taking him there. Every damn mile had been an exercise in frustrated longing, one she didn’t need. Considering she’d been lusting after the guy for more than half her life, she knew all about frustrated longing and needed no refreshers, thank you very much.
But that was what she got.
He spent the entire twenty-five minutes pressed up close and personal with her. Riding on a bike made little room for personal space, but even when she had slowed for the stop sign a few minutes back, had he taken a few seconds to shift away?
No.
Being pressed up close and personal obviously doesn’t affect him the way it affects you, her common sense pointed out.
Except her body could tell otherwise.
She had felt it, the way he’d reacted, his body getting hotter and hotter until it seemed like the air around them should spontaneously combust. The way his hands had tightened around her waist for the briefest second, as if he wanted to tug her even closer, though that didn’t seem possible. She sped down the road to the winery, following the winding twists and turns and trying to focus on them. He dominated her thoughts, though.