She liked to ramble, something he’d learned from talking to her by the side of the road. Her thoughts jumped from topic to topic, but one thing stuck with him. Her pain. Rick had lost his father when he was fifteen. He’d been young, but not young enough so he didn’t remember the man. He’d been a hands-on father, attended all his boys’ baseball games and back-to-school nights.
“I lost my father a while back. I can understand what you’re going through now,” he said, compelled to open up to this woman for reasons he didn’t understand. Reasons that made him wary. But he didn’t censor himself. “It was twenty years ago. I was fifteen,” he said, remembering. “But sometimes the pain is as fresh as if it were yesterday.”
Rick met Kendall’s moist gaze and his heart twisted with understanding. He hadn’t expected to connect with her on any level, especially not on the emotional one he normally walled off. He was surprised he understood this stranger, this woman, so well. “I’m sorry about your aunt.” He hadn’t said so earlier and meant to.
“Thanks.” Her voice held a rough timbre. “Same with your dad.”
He nodded. She and Crystal had obviously shared a special relationship. Family bonding was something else Rick could relate to. The Chandlers were closer than most, bonded by shared memories, both good and bad. With Kendall’s pain both new and raw, he found himself wanting to be the one to ease her anguish—and not because to serve and protect was in his job description.
He swallowed a groan. He’d been down this road once before and received a punch in the gut for his efforts. “Once you got light-headed, didn’t it dawn on you to call for help?” He directed them back to the problem at hand.
She tipped her head to the side. “Such a simple solution. Gee, why hadn’t I thought of that?”
He chuckled. “Too weak, huh?”
“Something like that. Help me?”
Her wide eyes got to him and he couldn’t resist her plea. “Where’s the best place to start?”
“Back buttons.” She hung her head forward, the pinkish red strands brushing against the stark white dress. When she felt better, he’d have to remember to ask her about the hair color, not that it mattered. He liked her anyway. And here he thought he preferred blondes, though he had to admit he hadn’t a clue what her real hair color was beneath the pink sheen.
He reached for the first pearlized button when the intimacy of the act struck him. He stood in the small bathroom undoing a bride’s dress. No memories rose to suffocate him since he and Jillian had eloped, Rick in uniform, Jillian in a maternity dress. At this point he was long over the hurt and way past the love. Last Rick had heard, Jillian and her husband were happily married with three kids, living in California. Done, gone, and forgotten except for the lessons learned, Rick thought.
Which was why this bride and the feelings she inspired shocked him. Though Kendall wasn’t his bride, that didn’t change the proprietary way she made him feel. The notion didn’t worry him as much as it would have if she was sticking around town.
Refocusing on his task, he released first one tiny button and then the next, revealing porcelainlike skin. She had a long graceful neck and an incredibly smooth back, one he wanted to kiss, as he trailed his tongue down her spine and tasted her, inch by delectable inch.
“Oh, that feels better already,” she said on a long exhale that bordered on orgasmic in tone.
If he wasn’t already damp from the heat, he’d have broken into a sweat. He leaned down, inches from acting out his fantasy, when she reached up and unwittingly swept some strands of hair off the back of her neck. Rick couldn’t resist temptation further. As he inhaled her fragrant scent, his lips whispered across her silken skin that was warm from the heat, damp from the humidity.
She trembled and let out a soft sigh, but she didn’t pull away nor did she deck him. All, Rick figured, a good sign that got even better when she turned her head and let her lips touch his.
His eyes closed as she answered his unspoken request, letting him taste her for the first time. Her mouth was warm, soft, and giving, feeding a hunger so strong it threatened to consume him. His heart hammered hard in his chest and his palms began to sweat, ridiculous for a nearly thirty-five-year-old man who’d kissed his share of women, but his reaction to this one had been intense from the start. He touched his tongue to her lips and fire leapt between them, the flames engulfing him from inside and out, but before he could seek entrance to her moist mouth, she broke the kiss.
She hung her head down and didn’t meet his gaze. “Sorry but it’s awkward.”
And here he thought she’d been willing. “You didn’t exactly say no,” he said, feeling as though he’d been punched in the gut.
She sat up straight, looked at him, and blinked in surprise. “I didn’t.” Her eyes opened wide as understanding dawned. “You thought I meant the kiss was awkward? Oh, no. The kiss was amazing.” An uneasy smile flirted across those lips. “But my position was awkward. Uncomfortable. Sort of like this conversation.” She shook her head and a flush rose to her cheeks. Then she grabbed the back of her neck and began a steady massaging of muscles that had obviously been twisted during the kiss.
Ridiculously relieved, he laughed before realizing how much he’d cared if she rejected him. “I’d offer to massage the kinks but I think we’d get in more trouble.”
“And as an officer of the law you need to stay clear of that kind of trouble?” Her eyes twinkled with mischief, her subtle meaning clear.
“Not during my off hours.” The words escaped before he could stop them.
She let out a laugh. “I do like you, Rick Chandler.”
“Feeling’s mutual, Ms. Sutton.” He grinned. Damn but he could get in deep with this woman. And wouldn’t that solve his current problem?
A relationship with Kendall would force his mother and the myriad women she sent after him to back off. Kendall’s unusual arrival would definitely spark gossip. The more wary women in town would steer clear until they knew whether Rick was involved with the newcomer, while the more brazen ones, like Lisa, needed a blatant, can’t-miss message. A message like Kendall, her pink hair, and wedding dress.
Not that he thought for one minute Kendall would go along with his insane idea to pretend they were involved in order to keep the women from Rick’s door. He didn’t even intend to suggest it, but he had to admit the plan had been a fun one while it lasted. “We still haven’t gotten you out of that dress,” he said at last.
“I’m right here waiting.”
He grit his teeth and finished the buttons on the dress with minimal fuss and conversation, focusing solely on his task and not the increasingly bared skin on her back.
He paused when his fingertips finally reached her waist. “How about I give you some privacy and you take things from here?” Because the next step would mean he’d be pulling down the top of the dress and revealing her bare breasts for view. It would mean he’d work the material lower, over her legs and then—
“That would probably be best.” Her voice stopped his daydream just in time.
“I’ll leave the door open.” He stepped toward the exit. “Yell if you need anything.”