Her arms stretched high, her purple sweater pulled away from her jeans, showing off the pale silkiness of the small of her back. His gaze traced the tight fit of the denim, noting the hint, maybe, of a tattoo on her left hip.

Nah. She wasn’t the tattoo type. She was the good-girl type.

Wasn’t she?

Damned if he wasn’t tempted to find out.

Whichever she was, she was one sweet sight.

Caleb’s grin turned contemplative as he studied the curve of her butt, noting how perfectly those hips would fit in his hands.

A man who rarely tempered his impulses outside of work, Caleb figured why not find out. He glanced around, noting that there weren’t any customers, or drug dealers, lurking about. Striding forward, he stepped behind the counter and planted a hand on either side of the ladder.

Just in time for Pandora’s descent.

One step down, and her butt was level with his face. Right there within nibbling distance. Another step and he could push aside that nubby purple sweater and slide his lips along the small of her back. One more and, oh, yeah, baby…

Pandora gasped, her head swiveling to give him a wide-eyed look of shock.

“What the…?”

“Hi,” he said, his voice low with more desire than he should be feeling for a woman he hadn’t even groped yet.

A woman who was staring at him as if he was a combination of the Grinch and the Ghost of Christmas Future. The one who pushed poor Scrooge McDuck into his grave. In other words, she looked just as thrilled as dipwad Kendall had.

He shouldn’t tease her. She was obviously on the shy and quiet side. Caleb didn’t bother to move, though.

“What are you…? I mean, why…?” She stopped, closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then opened those hazel eyes again and offered a stiff smile. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t fall off the ladder.”

She looked down at the five inches between her feet and the ground, then met his gaze again with an arched brow. She had a little more makeup on today than she had earlier in the week. Something was smudged around her eyes, darkening those lush lashes. Her lips, though, those soft, soft lips, were temptingly bare.

“Aren’t you the hero.”

Caleb barked out a laugh. So much for shy and quiet. He’d expected her to get a little huffy. But no, she was a lot more fun than that.

And then she blew his mind. She slowly turned on the ladder, her hip brushing against his chest as she did. Awareness spiked through his body, hot and needy.

She licked her lips, the sensual move at odds with the nerves shimmering in her golden-green eyes. And she stepped down. They were so close, the tips of her breasts skimmed, just barely, a path down his chest, leaving behind a fiery trail.

Caleb’s smile slowly faded.

He’d pegged Pandora as a sweet, small-town girl, maybe a bit naive but with an open, curious mind. He’d figured on having a little fun flirting while he gathered info.

He definitely hadn’t counted on a hard-on within the first three minutes of seeing her again.

Had he underestimated the sweet Pandora?

“Are you looking for a hero?” he asked, mentally rolling his eyes. At the question, because wasn’t that what all women were looking for? A mythical guy to sweep them away and make all their dreams come true? And at the idea of him being hero material.

“Nah, I’d rather take care of things myself,” she said with a smile and a tiny shrug. Her shoulder brushed against his wrist. “The term hero always makes me think of perfection. Since I can’t live up to it, why would I want to have to deal with it?”

“So… What? You’re looking for an antihero?” he joked, his gaze wandering over the soft, round curve of her face, noting the tiniest of dimples just there, to the left of her mouth.

“More like I’m not looking for anything,” she said.

Yeah, right.

He looked closer, noting the stubborn set of her chin and the hint of anger in her eyes. Something, or someone, had burned her. Which meant she might be serious. A not-anything relationship, short and sweet, was right up his alley.

Besides, she had info he needed.

“You might not be looking for a hero, but from what I hear, you’re exactly what I’m looking for,” he told her.

“And what do you hear?” she asked, leaning back against the ladder, apparently not bothered at all that he was still holding her there, trapped by his arms. He didn’t know if he liked that. He was used to making women nervous.

So he leaned in a little closer. Close enough that the scent of her perfume wrapped around him like a sensual fog. Close enough to see her heart beating a fast tattoo against the silky flesh at the base of her throat. Close enough to feel the tempting heat of her body.

His voice husky with need, his grin just a little strained, he said, “Rumor has it you’re the lady to see if I’m looking for some really hot sex.”

5

PANDORA’S MOUTH DROPPED, and with it all her bravado. Color washed, hot and wicked, over her cheeks as she blinked fast to try to clear her desire-blurred vision.

She stared at him, desperately trying to read him. Was this for real? Was he asking her for sex? Without even a bite of Foreplay cake or a nibble of an Orgasmic Oatmeal cookie? Did she say yes? Or ask him to wait until after her shift? The back room was empty, but still…

God, was she crazy? She gave herself a mental smack upside the head and tried to pull herself together. Control, girl. Grab some control.

But all she could think of was what he’d taste like naked and whether his chest was as tanned as his face under that tight black T-shirt.

Caleb’s laughter washed over her, breaking the shocked spell. As soon as it did, color slid from her cheeks, leaving behind icy-cold humiliation.

“I guess that’s what I get for listening to rumors,” he said, still chortling. “Crazy, huh? That you’d be selling sex in here.”

She frowned, his easy dismissal taking the edge off her embarrassment. What? He didn’t think she could sell sex? He didn’t think she was hot enough, wild enough, savvy enough? Was she so dismissible that he didn’t think of sex after kissing her? Even now, when he had her trapped between his body and a ladder?

What the hell?

She’d put makeup on. She’d bought perfume, something sexy and inviting. She’d worn her tightest freaking jeans. And he dismissed her? Shoulders hunching, Pandora felt herself withdrawing. Pulling inside, where she could pretend it didn’t hurt that, yet again, she didn’t measure up. Or in this case, was so easily dismissible.

Here she’d spent the past three days in a state of horny anticipation, acting like a teenage girl wishing and wondering when her crush would reenter her sphere of existence. And what happened when he did?

He laughed at the idea of her and sex.

Before she could duck under his arm and scurry off, back to the obscurity of the kitchen or storage room, she caught sight of Bonnie the cat staring at her from the window seat with her pretty black-and-white head tilted to one side as if she was waiting for Pandora to find her spine.

The spine Sean had damaged with his lies, betrayal and oh-too-believable charm.

Then she thought of her vow to Kathy. Sure, it’d mostly been bravado, but still, she wanted to taste him. To feel his tongue on hers. To experience, at least one more time, hot and sexy Caleb kisses. She pressed her lips together, remembering. Then she squared her shoulders and gave him an arch look.

“Actually, most of Black Oak is thanking me daily for the effect I’ve had on their sex lives,” she told him, lifting her chin.

His laughter trailed off, his smile slowly fading as a weird look came into his eyes. A chilly sort of calculation that made Pandora, for the first time since he’d swaggered into her store four days ago, want to pull away from him.

He looked dangerous. And just a little scary.

“You don’t say? Half the town, hmm? And why’s that?”

“Aphrodisiacs, of course.”

His gaze didn’t change.

She shivered, this time letting herself duck under his arm and move away from the ladder. She needed some distance so she could reengage her brain. She made a show of petting Paulie, who was draped over a chair like a black, silky blanket. With a couple of feet between them, she watched Caleb turn, his leather-clad arms crossed over his chest as he leaned casually against the ladder.

“Aphrodisiacs?” he asked, his words as drawn out as his frown. “Like drugs?”

“What?” She yelped so loudly the mellowest cat in the world gave her a kitty frown before leaping in disapproval to the floor. Seriously shocked, Pandora gaped for a second before shaking her head. “No. Of course not. We’re holistic here at Moonspun Dreams. The store, and my family, believes in herbal remedies. We even sell charts on acupressure pain relief instead of aspirin.”

He kept staring as if he was measuring each word carefully. He didn’t look happy, though. Pandora frowned. What? Was he looking for some kind of drug? She took in his long, shaggy hair, the hard look on his face and the black hoop piercing his ear. Her gaze skimmed over his beat-up leather jacket and the faded black T-shirt, down to the frayed hem of his jeans and his scuffed biker boots.

Sexy as hell? Check.

Bad boy personified? Double check.

A drug user?

She’d heard myriad rumors about those bad Black boys. They were wild and untamed, they were trouble through and through. But she’d never heard even a whisper about drugs.

Her eyes skimmed that deliciously broad chest again, his muscles defined beneath the soft-looking fabric of his shirt. She looked into his vivid gold eyes, noting that they were shuttered but clear.