Candidate For Love Page 7

  “We probably shouldn’t be doing this.” His voice was muted in their secluded surroundings.

  “Why not? It feels like the most natural thing to me.” Christine wouldn’t let her own doubts ruin this passion that she felt for him.

  “Because I work for your campaign.” His finger traced a lazy trail around the outline of her moist lips. “Because I’m all the wrong things for you.”

  “There’s nothing wrong about you, JT.” Her voice sounded husky in her own ears. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”

  He laughed, his white teeth accentuated by his tanned skin. “You say that now, Chris, while we’re all steamed up here. But what about later tonight or tomorrow?” His brow furrowed. “The last thing I want is to be a regret, an afterthought to reality once the moment has passed.”

  His concern touched her deep in her heart, a place that had been scarred by misplaced trust before, and she shook her head.

  “Oh, you’ve got it backward, JT. I won’t regret this evening at all. As a matter of fact—” She ran her hands down the front of his T-shirt, feeling the sculpted chest beneath the fabric. Her fingers played at the edges of his belt, at the top of his jeans. She slid her fingers an inch inside his waistband and leaned closer to him. “I’m afraid you’re the one who’ll regret it later.”

  “Me?” The surprise on his face was genuine.

  Christine gave him a small smile. “Yeah, you. I’m a divorcee with a son. I’m from a stuffy background that would probably feel like a prison to you. My life is a fishbowl since I’m running for mayor. I’m afraid you’ll be the one regretting this.”

  He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her lips, nipping her lower lip with his teeth. “What did I ever do to deserve this?”

  Christine sighed. “I feel the same way.”

  The sound of approaching motorcycles interrupted their privacy.

  “Sounds like the rest of the gang had the same idea.” He nipped her nose with a gentle kiss. “I guess I’d better get you back to your car.”

  “Are you in a hurry to get home?” she asked, not ready for this night to end.

  “Not really, but don’t you have to get home to Sammy?”

  She shook her head. “His dad came into town unexpectedly, and has him for the remainder of the weekend.”

  “Oh.”

  In the darkening woods, she couldn’t see his eyes. Her earlier insecurities about his desiring her crept back into her mind. But surely after their moments spent here, he desired her as well?

  She took the plunge. “Do you want to come back to my place for coffee?”

  She regretted the question the moment she said it. A free spirit like him probably didn’t want to come over for coffee. For a shot of whiskey, maybe, or to continue what they’d started here.

  That thought gave her a thrill of anticipation. He’d probably want to come back for more of what they had just done. Right now she was on the fence as to which way she wanted the evening to go. A part of her hoped he refused, while the other part wanted him to say yes.

  “I need to do some errands first thing in the morning.”

  Disappointment threatened to remove the smile from her face. But she held it there. Having gone to so many fundraisers and political events had taught her to maintain a smile even when her feet were killing her or her mind was elsewhere. He wouldn’t see her disappointment.

  Then he surprised her by saying, “Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow night instead?”

  The flutter was back in her throat. Her smile broadened. “Sure, I’d love that. What time?”

  “How about six-ish?”

  “Great.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her on her forehead, wrapping her in his arms. His breath fluttered her hair and she leaned into him, resting her head on his chest.

  He squeezed her within the hug, took her by the hand, and helped her put the helmet back on. She could see his smile even in the coming darkness. He revved the bike to life, and they headed out of the park. They waved as they passed their fellow bikers, who had a small fire going.

  The air rushing past her was much chillier on the ride back, and she would be grateful once she was back in her SUV and could put the heater on. This time, she was more relaxed on the bike, melding into JT’s back, her legs pressed snugly against him, no longer afraid of the contact. She leaned into the turns with him, and they became one on the bike. With every passing moment, she was becoming more familiar with him and less concerned about her growing feelings for him.

  Back at the parking lot, she handed the helmet over to him, her legs tingling from the vibration of the ride. He helped her dismount and they stood close to each other.

  He lifted his hand and cupped the side of her face. “Until tomorrow night.”

  “Until then.” Christine got in her car and headed home, reveling in the knowledge that he watched her drive away.

  • • •

  JT headed home, his thoughts spinning as fast as his bike’s wheels.

  As long as he was working this gig, he didn’t feel right about seeing Christine. But she was so undeniably attractive and seemed unaware of her own desirability. He was sure her ex-husband, the senator, had something to do with that.

  He wanted to spend days to show her exactly how desirable she was, but until he was off the case, he had to restrain himself. Kicking the bike into high gear, he sailed down the road to his house.

  Chapter 8

  Christine stared at her newspaper at her kitchen table the next morning. The grainy black-and-white of the newspaper photo couldn’t reduce the power of JT’s presence; it only accentuated the hard lines of his face. His long hair wasn’t noticeable as it blended into his leather jacket.

  But there was no mistaking the fact that he had his arm around her, and she had her face tilted up toward his. There was no denying that look. It was the look of a woman who wanted a man, a woman who was thrilled to be desired by someone like him. He was a dangerous man, to be sure, but not because he was a biker who wore leather and a life that might flirt with the wild side. No, he was dangerous to a woman’s heart.

  Christine held the hot mug of coffee between her hands and continued to gaze at the picture. She sighed, knowing she could count on questions being raised about who he was. The answer was simple—he worked on her campaign. But what were they doing together at her car? Simple. They had been at a fundraiser for the little boy, and he walked her to her car for safety. Why were they looking at each other like that? Simple. He was a hottie. She had to grin at using a term kids used.

  Remembering the feel of his lips against hers, his beard stubble grazing her skin, and feeling the heat of him as they hugged, she almost forgot she was in a tight political race with an incumbent. She already had two strikes against her—she was a woman and she was divorced. If she had an open relationship with a man her constituents would perceive as a rebel, that would be the third strike and she could be out. She didn’t want to lose or let her party down, but she wanted to be with JT. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to make that choice.

  The ring of the phone interrupted her musings, most likely her campaign manager. She picked it up without looking. “Yes, Brad, I already saw it.”

  “Who’s Brad?”

  There was no mistaking that the sexy voice on the other end of the line was JT’s.

  “Ah, you know. My manager, Brad. I just figured it was him.” She drummed her fingers on the table.

  “So, what do you think?”

  “About what?” She wrinkled her brow in confusion.

  “The picture. In the paper.”

  “Oh, that.” She wasn’t sure what to say. That she thought he looked just as hot in a picture as he did in person? That this probably would cause a mild furor in the rumor mill? “Actually, the biggest concern is who took the photo.”

  “Yeah. Me too. I should have seen whoever it was.”

  “How could you have known someone was taking pictures of us?”
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  “It’s my job. I’m always aware of my surroundings. But being with you, well, I was distracted, to say the least.” His tone was serious. “I want you to be more careful, more observant when you’re out.”

  “Okay, I’ll do that.” Was that concern she heard in his voice? She kind of liked imagining JT feeling protective of her. A slight thrill shimmied up her spine.

  “Does this cause a problem for you? You don’t want to cancel dinner, do you?”

  Anxiety nagged her. What if he was the one who wanted to beg off? “Do you want to?”

  “No, I don’t. I’m looking forward to it. But I’d understand if this created complications for you. That’s the last thing I’d want to do.”

  And the last thing I’d want is to cancel the dinner. “No, you’re a friend, JT.”

  “Well,” he lowered his voice to a sexy drawl, “I was hoping we were more than friends.”

  She felt a slight warmth in her cheeks and knew she was blushing. A man hadn’t made her blush in a long time. It felt good. “I think we both are. Last night qualifies as more than friends, doesn’t it?”

  His husky voice was like a caress through the telephone line. “Yeah. So I’ll pick you up at six o’clock?”

  “I’ll be ready. Where are we going for dinner?”

  “I know a nice little Italian place.”

  “Sounds great.” She couldn’t wait.

  “I’ll see you then,” he said, and the call ended.

  Christine was feeling the pulse of anticipation rush through her when the phone rang again. “Did you forget something, JT?”

  “This isn’t JT. It’s your manager, Brad. Speaking of JT, is there anything I should know?”

  “Like what?” Christine felt a little defensive at the insinuation, but she knew he was only doing his job.

  “Where were you guys last night?”

  “We were at the fundraiser at Duke’s for the little boy who suffered burns. JT was just seeing me safely to my car.”

  “All right. I already had a few calls this morning on the matter. I basically said JT was a campaign worker. I think that should suffice.”

  “I think so too.”

  A knot of stress replaced the butterflies in her stomach. Yes, JT could complicate her campaign.

  Leaning back in her chair, she thought back to that day in high school when Tad had been late picking her up after cheerleading practice and some punks on motorcycles had been hassling her. She’d been pretty nervous and afraid they’d do something. But JT had driven up on his Harley and convinced the bullies to go away. She remembered JT saying if she had been his girlfriend, he wouldn’t have been late picking her up. She had just gotten on his motorcycle to ride home with him when Tad had pulled up. Even now, she remembered how she’d felt a little disappointed. How she had wanted to go for that bike ride with JT.

  She still felt that way today. And she wanted to go to dinner with him tonight. Regardless of what might come or what anyone thought.

  • • •

  Whiling away the afternoon, Christine ignored all the things she should be doing and instead concentrated on simply relaxing. Tad rarely spent time with Sammy, which meant it was rare for Christine to have alone time. She had spent the morning being pampered at a day spa, getting a pedicure and having her toes polished a brilliant, sexy red. Then she went shopping and bought a black leather skirt and a slinky leopard-print blouse. She spent time luxuriating in a bubble bath and listening to the soft sounds of classical music. She’d even applied a facial mask and laid sliced cucumbers over her eyes.

  Christine had to admit she was enjoying being alone, being a woman, and thinking about her date with JT. Even using the term “date” brought a slight blush to her cheeks. It had been so long since she’d spent time alone with a man, let alone one as tempting and delectable as JT. And it had been a long time since she had considered herself, and only herself, in decisions she made. Sammy always came first, and then the campaign.

  Now she could do something for herself. And JT was that something.

  After toweling off and styling her hair, Christine applied shiny red lip gloss, tossed the tube into her purse, puckered and blotted, and took one last appraising look of herself.

  “Not bad for a mom,” she said to her reflection in the mirror. She felt giddy, silly with anticipation clawing at her stomach. She unbuttoned an extra button and then re-buttoned it. Unbuttoning it again, she vowed to leave it that way. A little cleavage never hurt anyone.

  The leopard print set off her black leather skirt and black pantyhose. At the thought that she was channeling JT’s wardrobe, she giggled like a schoolgirl. All of her black shoes were too boring, so she chose a pair of black ankle boots with a skinny heel. Bending over, she tossed her hair forward and straightened. Her hair fell about her shoulders in a riot of loose curls. No stuffy updo tonight. She knew JT liked her hair this way.

  Going to her bedside table, she turned on the radio and tuned in a rock station. Shaking and shimmying her hips, she danced around the room. She hadn’t felt this alive in years. She felt like she could break the rules and not think twice about it. Glancing at her alarm clock, she realized it was time for JT to arrive. She clicked the radio off and bounded down the stairs. The music still pulsed in her head, and she hummed the melody.

  Inside her kitchen, she rummaged around the lower cabinet looking for the small reserve of alcohol Tad had left behind. Frowning, she debated between the only two choices, brandy or whiskey, and chose the brandy for its warming effect. Dinner with JT felt a little intimidating, and she didn’t want to come across as uptight. She poured a small measure in a glass and tossed it back, wincing at the burn but wanting to have a good time, to be relaxed and focus only on her and JT.

  Her and JT. Just putting their names together took her breath away.

  As she rinsed out the glass she’d just used, she wondered what she was getting herself into. In the middle of a campaign, seeing JT probably wasn’t the wisest choice she could make, but she deserved happiness for herself. Yes, she was happy with Sammy and her life. But she needed more than that.

  Even though her marriage with Tad had ended in a divorce with her heart broken, she had loved the intimacy of marriage, of sharing everything with a man you loved. She wanted to believe that one day she would have that again. It might not be JT, because she didn’t think he would be the put-down-roots type of guy. But right now, he inspired her to have hope in men. And she wanted to follow her heart instead of her head for a change.

  The doorbell rang, and her heart leaped to her throat. He’s here.

  Walking to the hallway, she grabbed her purse and put her cell phone and keys inside. The beveled glass in the wood door refracted his reflection. Opening it, she felt her breath leave her lungs at the sight of him. Dressed in a long-sleeved white cotton shirt and black leather pants, JT looked as if he’d come off a fashion runway in Milan. In his hand was a single red rose.

  “For you,” he said as he offered the bloom to her.

  “Thank you.” She inhaled the bud’s scent. “Give me a minute to put this in a vase.”

  When she returned from the kitchen, she smiled at him. “Ready?”

  “Sure am.” He held the screen door open for her and waited while she locked the front door. She could feel the heat emanating from him, and her body tingled at his nearness.

  He held her hand as they walked down the sidewalk, scanning her from head to toe before he helped her put the helmet on. “You look absolutely stunning this evening.”

  “Thanks, so do you,” she said before she caught herself. “Well, not stunning. Handsome.”

  “Thanks. I hate to put this helmet on your hair.” He toyed with a strand, and her breath seemed to stop. “Just the way I like it.”

  He adjusted the helmet strap for her before straddling the bike. The perfect gentleman, he kept his gaze forward and held the bike steady while she tried to be as graceful as possible getting on the bike in her leather
skirt. She hadn’t thought about that when she bought it.

  JT eased the bike from the curb and they cruised down the street. The warmth from the shot of brandy in her stomach couldn’t compare to the heat of being with JT. As they made their way away from town, she couldn’t place any Italian restaurant that was in this area. Maybe JT knew of a place she’d never been before.

  They passed Duke’s restaurant where the fundraiser had been held and continued south along the river. On the outskirts of town, they pulled off the road onto a bumpy lane, and Christine had no idea where they were going, even when they pulled up to a rustic cabin.

  As he parked the motorcycle next to the front porch steps, it dawned on her this was JT’s place. Her heart began pounding in her chest. This was a little more intimate setting than the restaurant she had imagined. The thought of being so very alone with JT was exhilarating.

  He held the bike steady and stretched his arm out to help her dismount, and then got off behind her and pulled the helmet from her head. His hands fluffed her hair.

  “Don’t want helmet head, do we?” He grinned at her.

  “No, we don’t.” In the darkness, JT’s face was shadowed, but she could see his eyes glitter.

  “Is this a new restaurant I haven’t heard about?”

  “Yeah. JT’s house of humble pie.”

  He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her next to him, angling his head and kissing her with an intensity that surprised her.

  “I’ve been looking forward to this evening all day.” His voice was low and husky.

  Christine shivered, even though she was wrapped in his warm embrace. “Me too.” She returned the kiss just as intensely and repeated, “Me too.”

  He held her wrist loosely in his hand as he led her inside. She was struck by how simple and uncluttered the furnishings were, yet at the same time they created a feeling of warmth. A heavenly smell greeted her.

  “Mmm. This smells like a great Italian chef lives here.”