Damn but she was something else. Even with the wind knocked out of him, he was aware of her, and not just because her soft flowing hair tickled his face. She was feminine and soft, everything a woman should be and yet this pink-haired enigma was uniquely herself.
“Are you okay?”
He wasn’t sure who asked the question first.
“Nothing bruised but my pride,” she admitted.
“You?”
“I’ve taken harder spills sliding into second.”
“Baseball?”
“Softball against neighboring police departments.” The inane conversation did little to take his mind off the fact that he had her in his arms again. The desire licking at him grew stronger, something she couldn’t possibly feel with all that plush lace between them. But despite the dress, he could feel plenty and it was time to untangle their bodies before he made an ass of himself by kissing her senseless. “Think you can get off before you crush me?”
“Is that a veiled reference to my weight?” she asked. Only a confident female could joke like that, cementing the impression that she wasn’t at all like other women. She rolled off to one side and he missed the light pressure against him.
He glanced over and stifled a laugh. Instead of an easy release, she’d tangled herself further in the dress. “You know what they say. If you want a job done right, you have to do it yourself.” He let out an exaggerated groan and rose to his feet. Then he bent down and lifted the fluffy white bundle into his arms.
“What are you doing?” She grabbed for his neck and held on tight.
His back had taken the brunt of the fall and he wasn’t about to risk a repeat episode. “Protecting my vital body parts from further injury.”
“Funny, you felt pretty intact to me.”
He sucked in a sharp breath. So much for the illusion of safety beneath the layered dress. He wanted her and she knew it.
A woman fresh from a broken engagement, one who affected him this strongly, was dangerous. She also was fun, something he just now realized he hadn’t had in a long while. Life had become routine. It was a sad commentary if he could consider his mother and her small female army of recruits routine. But Kendall wasn’t one of his mother’s women and he liked her more for it.
He strode up the walk, leaving the luggage behind and even managed the steps leading to the house with her in his arms. Without warning, the door opened wide. Pearl Robinson, the female renter of her aunt’s house and one half of an elderly couple living in sin, as Pearl was so fond of telling everyone in town, stood before them.
“Eldin, we have company,” Pearl called over her shoulder. She’d been with Eldin Wingate forever. She smoothed her gray hair back in a bun. “I was expecting Crystal’s niece, but not two of you.” Her gaze traveled over both Rick and the woman in his arms. “You’ve been holding out on us, Rick. And you’ve been holding out on your mother too. Why just this morning, she was lamenting her grandchildless fate.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not surprised.”
Pearl glanced over her shoulder. “Eldin, get your lazy behind out here,” she yelled, since Eldin hadn’t arrived quick enough to suit her. “And hurry up before he drops her.”
“There’s no chance of that,” Rick whispered in Kendall’s ear, not so much to reassure her as to allow himself another heavenly whiff of her fragrant hair.
“But you won’t mind if I don’t take any chances. Just in case.” She gripped her small, soft hands tighter around his neck.
He liked the feeling.
“I’m coming, woman.” Pearl’s other half came up beside her, a tall man with white hair and all his own teeth. Or so he claimed. “What’s so important you couldn’t bring our guests inside—” He took one look at Rick and his words came to an abrupt halt.
“Hey, Eldin.” Rick resigned himself to the inevitable questions.
“Hot damn, Officer.”
“Didn’t I tell you?” Pearl asked, looking at her significant other. “That’s the reason I won’t be marrying you anytime soon.” She turned to Rick and Kendall. “We’re living in sin,” she said, lowering her voice, not that there was anyone else around to hear.
“Damn woman won’t marry me for the most asinine reason.”
“Eldin has a bad back and I refuse to marry a man who can’t carry me over the threshold. Did I tell you we’re living in sin?” She dropped her voice again.
As Kendall laughed, her breasts brushed against Rick’s chest and his body completely overheated. “Can we come in before I drop her?” he asked.
“Excuse my manners.” Pearl pushed Eldin back and they cleared a path. “You go on now, Rick, carry your bride over the threshold.”
He’d never live this down. Rick paced the inside of the stifling hot guest house behind Crystal Sutton’s main house. Eldin had brought them over so they could “get settled,” while Pearl had insisted she needed to go to town for some groceries.
“Groceries, my ass,” Rick muttered. She wanted to tell the world that she’d seen Rick Chandler carry his bride over the threshold. Never mind that there’d never been a ceremony or that the bride and supposed groom had just met. Pearl hadn’t been listening.
The tightness in Rick’s shoulders increased. All he could do was hope that when his mother heard the gossip, she’d put an end to the foolishness. Raina would know that Rick hadn’t married or eloped again. She knew better than to buy into unfounded stories. But the news would spread, everyone in town speculating about Rick Chandler and the lady in the wedding dress he’d carried over the threshold.
He groaned and for the first time considered moving to a huge city where he could be anonymous in a large crowd. He shook his head, knowing it would never happen. Despite the memories here, he loved his family, friends, and the small-town feel of Yorkshire Falls too much to leave. But a man could dream, couldn’t he?
He glanced at the closed bathroom door where Kendall had gone to change. His bride. He rolled his eyes at the absurdity and swiped a hand over his damp forehead. Damn but it was like a sauna in here. He’d have to make sure Kendall got over to the General Store and picked up an A.C. unit.
Where was she, anyway? She said she’d needed to change out of the gown but that had been over ten minutes ago. He strode to the bathroom door and rapped twice. “You okay in there?”
“Sort of,” came the muffled reply.
He jiggled the handle and found the door locked. He knocked once more. “Open up for me or I’m kicking the door down.” He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. His back and shoulder muscles remained sore from the dive onto the driveway.
The door creaked open wide. He stepped inside in time to see her lower herself back onto the closed toilet seat and hang her head low between her knees. “I am sooo dizzy.”
He glanced at her, concerned. “It’s no wonder with that damn dress cutting off your circulation. I thought you were going to get out of it.”
“I tried, but it’s hot in here and I couldn’t unbutton the dress on my own, so I sat down for a minute. Then I got to thinking about my aunt and all the years she spent here. I stood up, got dizzy again . . .” She managed a shrug.