Forever in Blue Jeans Page 6

  Nothing about that thought should make him feel good, but it did. To be alone with her, the woman who touched him like no other woman had in more years than he cared to remember, the woman who stole away in the dead of night for a reason he still didn’t know of… No, he shouldn’t want to be the only man in the world nor her the only woman, but then if they were, just maybe, she’d stay.

  “Why is it my fault?”

  “Wan’ you. Make me crazy.”

  He knew the feeling. “I’m sorry. Not my intention.”

  “M’k.” She nodded and seemed appeased with his answer and turned her head toward the open window.

  Chapter Four

  Cort looked in the rearview mirror, expecting, waiting, hoping to see headlights any moment. He knew Neil wasn’t going to follow with Blue’s car. Not when it appeared he and Rosie got exactly what they wanted, which seemed to be he and Blue stuck with one another. He certainly hoped, though, that maybe they’d consider Blue’s tipsy state of mind and Neil show up at her house anyway. Cort didn’t want to get stuck sleeping at Blue’s. No way. He might have told Blue they should fuck like a couple of rabbits, but that didn’t mean he meant they should do it while she was three sheets to the wind. Or tonight, even if she had been sober.

  No, if they were going to have sex, they were both going to be sober and know exactly what the hell they were doing, at least physically. But he also didn’t feel right about leaving her alone in the middle of nowhere without a car. What if she needed to go somewhere? Not that she needed to drive while under the influence, but once sobered up, perhaps when she woke up in the morning or something. No, he was going to get stuck, and in his heart of hearts, he’d known that the moment they’d left Rosie’s place.

  The brick wall leading up to the iron gate of the plantation property loomed on the right side of the truck, and Cort slowed down. He turned in and drove down the oak-lined drive, veering off just before he got to the large house. He stopped off to the side of the carriage house, put the truck in park and turned off the engine. A soft snore reached his ears before he could get out.

  She was sleeping. Damn.

  How was he supposed to get her inside? Did she even have a key on her? Had she taken a purse to Rosie’s and left it? He leaned over and went through the pockets of her denim jacket, careful not to brush against any part of her body. No key. He didn’t think her skirt had pockets, so he was left to try and find a key up by the front door.

  “A fucking comedy of errors,” he muttered, stomping up the porch steps.

  He looked under the mat and glanced around, but saw nothing else that could conceal a key. He stood back with his hands on his hips and stared at the door. “No, it couldn’t be that easy.” He pushed at the lever on the wooden panel, and the latch dislodged, allowing him to swing the door open wide. “Evidently it could be.”

  In this day and age, who would leave their door unlocked?

  Within minutes he had Blue lifted in his arms and the door to the truck kicked closed with his foot. He did the same thing when he got them inside her house.

  Then he debated where to put her.

  The couch would be safer and better for his peace of mind, but she’d probably rather wake up in her own bed. If it were him, he would.

  Cort carried her down the hall. On the right was one bedroom and two more were on the left. Judging by the size of the second one on the left, he figured it to be hers. He set her down on the bed then reached over to turn on the lamp, bathing the room in a soft glow. The walls were pale purple, the bedding a very close match with contrasting dark purples on pillows. The wrought iron bed frame gave him all sorts of naughty ideas, and he turned away hell-bent on gathering his cloak of indifference around him again.

  And then he laughed at himself. Nothing about the day or night or her had been indifferent. Nothing about his lust for her hinted at anything close to indifference, but he had to do something to take his mind off stripping her naked and waking her with his mouth between her thighs. Only thing was, there wasn’t anything to take his mind off doing that or any other number of things to her, with her, for her.

  She was the most sexual creature he’d ever met, and he could no more control his desire for her than he could stop breathing. However, he could control himself long enough to get her undressed and settled into bed. He could be a gentleman. He might not want to be, but he could be, and dammit, he would be. Even if it killed him.

  With methodical precision, Cort began undressing her. He slipped her sandals off her feet and set them at the end of the bed. Next was the skirt and he reached under her shirt to grasp the waistband. He pulled the flowing material down her thighs and off her legs, tossing it to the other side of the bed. He made a real solid effort to ignore the smooth, shapely curves of her hips, the strength of her calves and unbidden, the thought he had earlier in the evening of seeing her in nothing but heels returned.

  Gritting his teeth, he lifted her upper body enough that he could remove her jacket. The shirt beneath was nothing more than a plain T-shirt, and he decided that could be left on. For the sake of his sanity, the shirt needed to be left on.

  He pulled the covers down and maneuvered Blue under them before pulling them back up over her. She rolled away from him and snuggled into the pillow. Within seconds, she was snoring again.

  Cort waited for a few more minutes, watching her, listening to her breathing, reaching out to stroke her hair, then thinking better of it before he turned the lamp off and left the room.

  It was going to be a damn long night, he thought as he settled on the couch. He knew Neil wasn’t coming. They might not have planned on her getting drunk, but there was no doubt in his mind they were all in cahoots. Decker wanted Cort to have what he had with Rosie, and while Buck hadn’t broached the subject at all, Cort knew the two men were both up to their necks in the plotting.

  He should be pissed at them for sticking their noses where they didn’t belong, but he couldn’t be. They wanted him to be happy, to finally settle down, and to still his restlessness. He couldn’t be upset with them for that.

  He turned his head in the direction of the pictures Blue had hanging on her walls. The sheer sexuality of them, the eroticism, the sensuality all fit her. There wasn’t anything more that he wanted to do than trace each of her tattoos with his tongue, worship every curve and valley, slide so deep inside her that she wouldn’t be able to walk away again. Not for the first time, he wondered if she’d had any of her tats when they met five years before or if they’d been inked on her after. The two of them hadn’t bothered with lights when they’d gotten back to his hotel room in Savannah. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other long enough to turn on a lamp.

  The memory made him smile while lying there in the dark on her couch. No one was around to see that he remembered those hours with an erection that bordered on severe discomfort or with a twinge of pain in his heart or with a smile of wishfulness on his lips.

  Of their own volition, his eyes closed. His last thought before sleep took him was of the woman in the other room, warm, willing, wet, and his.

  …

  The smell of coffee hit him first. The smell of her hit him second, and that completely drowned out the aroma of the coffee. She was nearby, in the room with him. He couldn’t hear anything, not her breathing, not her moving around, but she was there. The room was charged with her presence.

  He thought about feigning sleep, soaking it in and just being near her without having to put up a front of…hell, he didn’t know what the front was for. He’d already come to the conclusion last night that he was far from indifferent. She thought him too hard and rigid, and that was fine—he could live with that—but he didn’t want her to ever think he wasn’t interested. It would be a lie, and it would hurt her for him to lie. It was the one thing he couldn’t do to her, to himself, or to anyone.

  Cort opened his eyes only slightly, braced for bright sunlight, but was met with near darkness. He turned his head to
find Blue sitting in a chair with her feet propped up on the coffee table. She was holding a cup between her hands, and there was a big mug sitting on the table, waiting for him.

  He sat up and reached for it, his gaze roaming up her body from her bare toes to her covered legs to the long sleeved shirt covering her upper body. In the shadows she looked comfortable, and something warm curled inside him that had nothing to do with the coffee. Which was exceptional.

  “Damn, this is really good.”

  “Thanks. It’s from Mexico. Hints of chocolate in it. Neil brought it to me. You spent the night here.”

  “Would seem so.” He took another sip of coffee and while he usually liked a hint of cream in his, this particular cup didn’t need anything.

  “Why?”

  “I didn’t want to leave you here alone. I didn’t know if you’d need someone, if you’d get sick, or what. So, I thought it best to stay.” Damn Neil’s hide. When Cort got a hold of him…

  “Thank you. I slept pretty well through the night but woke up with a mouth full of dirty cotton. I don’t get drunk often, hardly ever really so…” She took a sip of her own coffee and let her gaze roam the room before coming back to settle on him again. “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I said, if anything… I don’t remember much other than you bringing me home.”

  “You didn’t say anything. You didn’t do anything. You fell asleep in the truck, and I carried you inside.”

  “You took my skirt off.”

  “I did.”

  “You put me in bed and covered me up.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you stayed.”

  He wasn’t sure what the point of going over the events was, but he’d go with it for her sake. Maybe she was just trying to put everything together in her head. He knew when he used to drink to the point of memory loss, he’d sit for days trying to fill in all the gaps. Luckily, he never said or did anything that was illegal, harmful, or embarrassing while intoxicated. “Yes, I stayed.”

  “You’re not as stiff and unyielding as I first thought you to be. You took care of me. Thank you.”

  Oh he was stiff all right. “It was nothing.” It was everything in that small span of time. He finished off his coffee and set the mug down. “Why is it so dark in here? Or rather, why is it so dark outside? What time is it?”

  “It’s about ten in the morning, and we have a storm coming. You ever been in the South during the summer?”

  “A few times. Down in Savannah and over in South Carolina.”

  “So you know about our summer thunderstorms.” She grinned. “We get them like clockwork in the afternoons around three, but there’s supposed to be rain the next few days. You can smell it on the air.”

  “I should get moving then, get back to Decker’s place before the sky opens up.”

  “Neil didn’t come back with us last night?”

  “No.” And in his mind, Cort cursed the other man up one side and down the other. “I’m sure he’ll be along shortly.”

  “So my car is still sitting at Rosie’s.”

  “Either that or he’s out joyriding. It looked like a sweet ride.” That wasn’t the only thing that looked like a sweet ride. She was sleep tousled, and her hair was all gathered in something like a ponytail, but it wasn’t a ponytail. Hell, he wanted tousle her in ways that had nothing to do with sleep.

  “Thanks. I bought it last year. It was custom designed car. The guy bought it to drive his daughter across the country to college and see some of the sites on the way back. It had about fifteen thousand miles on it when I got it.”

  Cort shook his head. “Some people have way too much money on their hands.”

  “No kidding. I couldn’t imagine doing something like that. It was a steal when I found it, though, and I couldn’t walk away. In perfect condition. New everything, tires, hoses, spotless inside and out. So yeah, it is a sweet ride. Neil can’t keep his hands off it when he comes to visit.”

  Was that all he couldn’t keep his hands off? Cort wondered. It was on the tip of his tongue to voice the question, but he was afraid he wouldn’t really like the answer so he left it unasked. He stood and stretched a little to work the kink from his neck.

  “You could have slept in one of the guest rooms or… You didn’t have to sleep on the couch is all I meant.”

  “The couch was fine.”

  “You don’t look like the couch was fine. You’re what, six-two or three and that couch is about five-ten or so.”

  “I wasn’t here for comfort. I was here in case you needed me.”

  Blue nodded and dropped her feet to the floor, then got up and took his coffee cup from him. “Okay. You don’t have to go now, you know. You can stay for breakfast.”

  She headed out of the room, and Cort followed. Her ass twitched as she walked ahead of him. His hands itched to grab it, squeeze it, rub himself against her.

  “Neil won’t be back for a while yet, likely until the storm passes.”

  “Won’t he be concerned about you?”

  “He knows I’m in good hands, I think.”

  “Of course you’re in good hands. I’m not going to hurt you or let anything happen to you. But Neil could have brought you home himself. He and Rosie didn’t need to gang up on me about it.” It still irked him, the way everyone was plotting and whispering. Even now, they were all probably having their morning coffee and cracking jokes and concocting even more ways to keep he and Blue together. If it he didn’t know how impossible it would be for them to control the weather, he’d swear the impending summer storm was their doing. “Did you tell them about us?”

  “Yes. Yesterday. Neil was curious and well, so was Rosie.” She glanced over her shoulder at him in time to see him give a curt nod. “Cort, whatever your feelings for me are, the tension between us is too hard to ignore. They can see it too, and with the way you stomped off yesterday morning when you saw Neil…” She shrugged.

  “They couldn’t know you’d have a bit too much to drink, though. Or was that on purpose?”

  She laughed. “Oh yes, I got drunk last night just so we could all force you to bring me home. Besides, they didn’t know you’d spend the night.”

  Another thought he’d had. “I know, but you were pretty adamant that I be the one to bring you home.” She had the grace to blush, and Cort found himself biting back a groan.

  “I don’t remember that,” she said, putting the cups in the dishwasher. “Sorry. I guess I kind of aided in the set up without realizing it.”

  Cort’s gaze tracked her every move from the coffee pot to the trash can as she tossed out the grounds, then back to the sink to wash her hands. She moved easily, so comfortable in her body, so comfortable with him there. She wasn’t doing anything to try and impress him, yet he was incredibly impressed by her. Their one and only other intimate encounter aside from yesterday in the woods and in his truck late last night was the hours they spent in Savannah.

  It was a sort of homey feeling he’d never experienced with anyone else, except for perhaps his parents. They were completely comfortable with themselves, with each other, supportive and never judgmental. As he watched Blue, he had that same feeling deep inside his gut about her…a feeling of home and comfort. He liked it and had since the very first moment he met her. He also hated it.

  He didn’t allow himself to get close to women, didn’t allow for emotional attachment or friendship really, not since Alicia and then Blue. With most of the women he knew, that was no less than what they wanted or needed. They were focused on their own lives, their own freedoms, their own careers. Strong, confident women drew him, but as he’d watched Blue with her friends, watched her move through the plantation house with him, he should be able to admit that there were different kinds of strength and confidence, and it didn’t have to include a high-rise, a boardroom, an expensive car, or a single digit size.

  Should be able to, but he wasn’t quite convinced. If he did, he was afraid he’d be lost in her. Then there w
ere the pictures on her living room wall of her body, bared for the camera with hands touching her, marking her. Comfortable didn’t come close to what those made him feel, but at the same time…

  “Why would they set us up if you and Neil—”

  “If me and Neil what?”

  “Well, aren’t you and he…?” Cort didn’t want to finish the thought in either word or mind.

  “No, we’re not. You never said if you’d like to stay for breakfast.” she said as she opened the fridge.

  “You’re not?”

  “No.” She took out eggs, cheese, bacon, and a few other ingredients he lost track of. She held up her armful of groceries. “Breakfast?”

  No, he didn’t want to have breakfast with her. He wanted to have breakfast on her. He wanted to have her for breakfast. “No, I think I should go.”

  She shook her head. “You can stay for a little longer and have breakfast.”

  “Seriously, Blue, I―”

  “You’ll hurt my feelings if you keep saying no.”

  Cort smirked. “Then why did you even bother asking if you were going to make the decision for me?”

  “Just wanted to give you a sense of control. You really don’t have any in this.”

  “Bully,” he murmured. At her grin, he groaned, his acquiescence clear. “Fine, I’ll stay for breakfast. Mind if I take a quick shower?”

  The look she gave him… Damn. When was the last time he’d been this hard? He wasn’t sure he could remember. Oh wait, yes he could. It was last night. And the time before that? Yesterday morning. The only other time, five years ago.

  “Sure. Right down the hall on the right. There are fresh towels under the cabinet.”

  “Thanks. I’ll just get my stuff from my truck.”

  “Stuff?”

  She started cracking eggs in a bowl. Two, three, five, six, eight. “Feeding an army?”

  “No.” She smiled and he hardened further. “Making a quiche. Bacon, egg, and cheese.”

  He did good to boil water for instant oatmeal or get the measuring of coffee and water somewhere close to right, and here she was making a quiche for breakfast off the top of her head, no recipe in sight. “Okay. I haven’t had a quiche in…I’m not sure I’ve ever had one.”