Vivian Arend - Rocky Mountain Desire

Of course, it was still early.

He wasn’t about to haul ass all the way to the front doors and back around to the parking lot—not when he knew the short cut. Matt ducked through the side door and waited impatiently for his eyes to adjust—the long back-hall lighting just bright enough to reveal the flash of a leg disappearing into a side room.

Oh hell, this route took him past the stage backroom. An instant shot of lust smacked him upside the head as he pictured in far-too-intimate detail the dancer in the silver wig. Imagined her hair swaying as she rode him like some wild bandito, her eyes staring through that mask—he could totally go for a few games in the bedroom if he got to play them with her.

He fumbled with the bags for a moment, hesitant to go forward. Feeling stupid, he was even considering going back and all the way around, like a child scared to brave the unknown ahead of him.

Being attracted to the woman wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t. If he happened to meet her, like Blake had said, he could at least talk to her politely.

Or was he so backward around women he’d forgotten how to do that?

The energy in his limbs from the internal pep talk lasted all of ten seconds. Long enough for him to square his shoulders and stride firmly down the hall. Long enough for him to step in line with the open door of a room where a quick, almost involuntary glance revealed a mess of makeup on the counter, clothing tossed over chairs.

And the flash of nearly naked skin as the woman he’d been salivating over earlier peeled the robe off her shoulders to be his own personal temptation. He couldn’t stand there and ogle her, but he couldn’t seem to walk away either.

Matt gritted his teeth, bracing himself to take the final steps to the exit door. A feminine gasp dragged his gaze off where he’d gotten trapped—her nearly naked breasts, dammit. He retreated in a hurry, smashing into the wall behind him as he forced himself to look at the floor.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m going.”

He rushed away, slammed a shoulder against the door and escaped through the exit into the warmth of the July evening air. His heart was still pounding like a freight train after he’d put his load away.

Shit. He was beyond pathetic. Now he was freaking out innocent women. He leaned on the door to Daniel’s truck, closed his eyes and took a long slow breath through his nose, attempting to calm his body and his mind.

All he could see was the dancer’s body, and his dick got hard.

This was bullshit. So he was attracted to her. Fine. He was an adult, she was an adult. He’d probably never see her again. High on the agenda was to find some way to burn off this fever she’d begun, but it was hardly her fault and not his either. He just had to move on.

Which meant for now, making his feet take him back into the pub and the party, which was so much not what he wanted to be doing. Frustrated, he yanked the exit door open far harder than he had to and someone fell toward him. The woman’s long red hair swung in a circle as she poured out the door—she must have been about to lean on the surface to open it when he’d pulled, and now she tumbled into his arms.

He caught her before she could be hurt. The light curses rising from her lips made him smile even as the warm skin under his fingers caused other reactions. Silky heat pressed against his body. She clung to his shoulders, fingers pressed into his muscles.

“Hang on, I’ve got you.” He placed her on her feet and she shuffled away, head down as she muttered thanks in a low tone.

God, it was her. His dancer, who he was already guilty of obsessing over. She was walking away and he couldn’t stand it. “Wait.”

She stopped, face still in the shadows, almost as if she were hiding. Fuck, he was doing it again. As good as stalking a stranger.

“I’m sorry—I keep apologizing to you, but it’s just…I wanted to say…” The range of suitable words in his vocabulary seemed sorely lacking so he just went for it. “I know it’s wildly inappropriate, but I have to tell you. You’re a very beautiful woman. That’s all. I wanted you to know that.”

It was cathartic to let the words escape. He had no idea what would happen next, but at least he’d been honest.

She swayed on her feet, then her head lifted, light shining off her cheek as she twisted toward him. “Thank you, Matt.”

He froze, every muscle gone taut.

That voice—familiar. Too familiar. He’d heard it a hundred times over the years at family dinners with his high school sweetheart. Listened to it on the phone when he’d called to speak to Helen. Oh shit. Oh shit, no.

Her name jolted out. “Hope?”

She finished turning and the beam of light from the overhead bulbs hit her face full on. No wonder he’d thought he’d recognized her. Her eyes were lighter than her sister’s, a pale blue like a summer’s morning sky. Right now they were open so wide he could have driven his truck through them.

“Of course. You mean…? But…” Her smile faded, her hands rising up to cross in front of her body as if she still wore that revealing costume. “I thought you recognized me. Isn’t that why you were staring, why you came to the change room? And now, you said that I’m attractive, and I thought maybe you weren’t coming to give me hell, but…”

She had thought he was hot for her because it was true, and didn’t that make him an asshole, lusting after his ex’s little sister.

All of a sudden he felt every inch the bastard he was. “I didn’t know.”

There was nothing he could say to make this better, but he had to try.

Confess you were a jerk.

“I’m sorry, Hope. I didn’t know it was you. I…” She shifted her feet uneasily, focusing on something to the side of him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Say it, fuckhead. Admit you’re a shit. “…I thought you were a stranger who liked me. I don’t usually go around pestering dancers, honest.”

Her chin rose and she looked him in the eye. “Please don’t tell anyone I was here.”

Then she spun and raced away into the parking lot before he could apologize anymore. Equal parts relief and guilt poured over him, and he really didn’t know what the hell to do.

Five months later

The giggles emitting from the living room were far too mature and feminine to belong to his nephews. Matt paused on his way up the stairs to figure out if he was about to walk into something he’d rather avoid.

“You going to have that done in time for Christmas?”

“I have to have it ready. The only way Gramma is allowed to give a homemade Christmas present to one child is to have something for all of them.”

Matt leaned on the railing and grinned. His ma and her brood of friends doing the doting thing again. He’d forgotten about the monthly hen party. Guess he could put in an appearance before disappearing to safer and more masculine pastures.

If his trailer weren’t so damn cold, he’d still be out there. But with the temperature dipping toward minus forty, sheet metal and forced air heaters simply didn’t cut it.

“Evening ladies.”

He rounded the corner, spotting, as he expected, piles of…stuff…everywhere. This time it looked as if a fabric shop had exploded in the living room, and not only his mother, but a half-dozen older women from the community beamed at him.

“Matt. Come and see what I’ve made.” His ma held up a small quilt with a horse print on it, waving it madly for his approval.

“Very nice. Who’s that for?”

“Robbie. And this one—” another quilt was raised for inspection, “…is for Nathan, and this one is Lance’s.”

He could be there for hours if he didn’t manage to excuse himself after the first couple minutes.

“Love them all. You’ve done a fine job, Ma. Hey, I just wanted to say hello.” Matt glanced around the room. “It’s bitter cold outside—you ladies all have rides home tonight?”

“You want to escort me, you can, young man.” Mrs. Katen winked and the room resounded again with laughter. The woman was one of his ma’s best friends, and she and her husband had been married close to forty years.

Matt tipped his head. “Your husband might not ride rodeo anymore, ma’am, but I’m still plenty scared of him. I think I’ll let him be your backup, if you don’t mind.”

He gave his ma a kiss on the cheek before turning to leave.

The breath whooshed right out of him as he came face to face with Hope. Long red hair framed her shining face, and her mouth opened and closed a few times as they stared at each other. Then she smiled and tucked her fingers together, standing like a prim and proper maiden in the midst of a singing recital.

All he could picture was her with nothing but tiny seashells covering her breasts.

“Matt. Good to see you. You’re a little late to join the quilting bee, but if you want, I’ve got a lovely printed panel you could start on.”

He hoped the heat flushing his face could be excused by the laughter in the room. “I think the family woodworking business is enough of a crafty task for me. Last thing I sewed on was a button, and I was bleeding like crazy by the time I was done.”

Hope stepped to the side at the same moment he did, and they bumped. He caught her before either of them fell, the heat of her body drawing him like some strange magnet. The sensation was far too familiar and far too tempting.

He didn’t want this.

He was surprised she didn’t knee him in the groin.

Hope wiggled from his grasp and stepped back, teetering until she found her balance. “Sorry, I’m very clumsy at times. Two left feet.”