Tough Love
Page 54
Then it struck her. The invite could be rescinded if Stack reunited with Whitney!
Just as quickly, she shook her head.
Stack wouldn’t. As Lynn said, he was smart. Whatever reasons he’d had for breaking things off with the woman, they would have been valid. He was not a weak man, not in any way.
He wouldn’t be easily fooled by Whitney’s nonsense.
Watching her, Lynn laughed and patted her arm. With a nod toward the kitchen, she said, “You have nothing to worry about from that one. Stack isn’t Tabby. He knows how to take care of himself.”
Maybe. But Vanity sensed that Phil was up to something, and she didn’t like it.
“Thank you.” Vanity started to rise, but Lynn pulled her in for a hug. And it felt so good, so motherly, that Vanity soaked it up, lingering a second or two longer than she should have.
Deciding she’d imposed long enough, she thanked Lynn again, gathered the dogs and, being as quiet as she could with two unruly midsize animals, snuck away.
* * *
“HOLD UP.” OUTSIDE the apartment, Stack saw Vanity continue across the street. He knew she’d heard him. Just as clearly she planned to ignore him. Rather than chase her down, he stopped, whistled, and the dogs, which he liked more by the minute, nearly pulled her off her feet when they turned back to him.
Vanity didn’t face him, but he saw her shoulders slump in acceptance of the inevitable. Got you now.
The things she did, and the reasons she did them, often eluded him. She’d staked a claim in front of Whitney—a claim she’d probably deny—and then had hightailed it out the door the minute Whitney tried to get clingy with him.
As Stack strode across the street toward her, the wind picked up her long hair and made it dance to the side. She didn’t shiver. She didn’t move at all except for when the dogs tugged at their leashes, making her stumble. She just stood there, her back to him, waiting.
He’d have walked her out, damn it, but she’d waited until Whitney trapped him alone in the kitchen and then snuck off like a thief. Somehow she’d even kept the dogs quiet.
If it hadn’t been for his mother alerting him, he’d have returned to the room to find her gone.
Thinking of Whitney’s hands on him, how she’d stared suggestively at his mouth, then his crotch, made him want to shower.
Or maybe just rub himself all over Vanity’s naked body; replace the bad with the good.
Yeah, that idea appealed more.
When he reached her, he stepped right up to her slender back, slipped his arms around her, and kissed the back of her neck that the wind had nicely exposed.
Now she shivered. “Wanna tell me why you ran out on me?”
One shoulder lifted in a halfhearted shrug. “I didn’t run.”
“No, you tiptoed.”
She didn’t deny that. “I just had to go, that’s all.”
He could read nothing in her tone, but her posture said a lot. “Come on.” He relieved her of one of the leashes and led the way to her car. Many times now he’d admired her new-model Mustang convertible. The car suited her—classy, beautiful and far from wimpy. “That’s an awfully nice ride for dogs.”
Totally missing his point, she said, “Thanks,” as she unlocked the door and, with total disregard for the buttery soft leather seats, urged the dogs into the back.
After the dogs got situated, Stack took her upper arms and pulled her into his chest. “Kiss me.”
She looked up in surprise. Street lamps added interesting shadows to her face; the cold turned her nose and cheeks pink. “Here?”
Meaning it, he said, “Anywhere you want.”
And damned if her gaze didn’t drop down his body.
The effect of her interest was far, far different from Whitney’s.
Stifling a groan, Stack urged her closer. “Yeah, don’t get me going if you can’t follow through. I’m in a bad way already.”
Pleased, she grinned up at him. “You’re the one who wanted to talk so much this morning.”
He could feel her warming, softening, and it spurred him on. “We talked about you. Fascinating topic. How could I resist?”
Her husky laugh sharpened the ache. “I was offering sex.”
Against her lips, he whispered, “Offer it again.”
She stared at his mouth, teasing busy fingers over the neckline of his shirt, occasionally stroking his skin. “I want to.”
Kissing her seemed like a really good idea, so he did. Softly, barely there. Except that as he leaned away she followed, then licked his bottom lip in invitation.
Just as quickly, she shook her head.
Stack wouldn’t. As Lynn said, he was smart. Whatever reasons he’d had for breaking things off with the woman, they would have been valid. He was not a weak man, not in any way.
He wouldn’t be easily fooled by Whitney’s nonsense.
Watching her, Lynn laughed and patted her arm. With a nod toward the kitchen, she said, “You have nothing to worry about from that one. Stack isn’t Tabby. He knows how to take care of himself.”
Maybe. But Vanity sensed that Phil was up to something, and she didn’t like it.
“Thank you.” Vanity started to rise, but Lynn pulled her in for a hug. And it felt so good, so motherly, that Vanity soaked it up, lingering a second or two longer than she should have.
Deciding she’d imposed long enough, she thanked Lynn again, gathered the dogs and, being as quiet as she could with two unruly midsize animals, snuck away.
* * *
“HOLD UP.” OUTSIDE the apartment, Stack saw Vanity continue across the street. He knew she’d heard him. Just as clearly she planned to ignore him. Rather than chase her down, he stopped, whistled, and the dogs, which he liked more by the minute, nearly pulled her off her feet when they turned back to him.
Vanity didn’t face him, but he saw her shoulders slump in acceptance of the inevitable. Got you now.
The things she did, and the reasons she did them, often eluded him. She’d staked a claim in front of Whitney—a claim she’d probably deny—and then had hightailed it out the door the minute Whitney tried to get clingy with him.
As Stack strode across the street toward her, the wind picked up her long hair and made it dance to the side. She didn’t shiver. She didn’t move at all except for when the dogs tugged at their leashes, making her stumble. She just stood there, her back to him, waiting.
He’d have walked her out, damn it, but she’d waited until Whitney trapped him alone in the kitchen and then snuck off like a thief. Somehow she’d even kept the dogs quiet.
If it hadn’t been for his mother alerting him, he’d have returned to the room to find her gone.
Thinking of Whitney’s hands on him, how she’d stared suggestively at his mouth, then his crotch, made him want to shower.
Or maybe just rub himself all over Vanity’s naked body; replace the bad with the good.
Yeah, that idea appealed more.
When he reached her, he stepped right up to her slender back, slipped his arms around her, and kissed the back of her neck that the wind had nicely exposed.
Now she shivered. “Wanna tell me why you ran out on me?”
One shoulder lifted in a halfhearted shrug. “I didn’t run.”
“No, you tiptoed.”
She didn’t deny that. “I just had to go, that’s all.”
He could read nothing in her tone, but her posture said a lot. “Come on.” He relieved her of one of the leashes and led the way to her car. Many times now he’d admired her new-model Mustang convertible. The car suited her—classy, beautiful and far from wimpy. “That’s an awfully nice ride for dogs.”
Totally missing his point, she said, “Thanks,” as she unlocked the door and, with total disregard for the buttery soft leather seats, urged the dogs into the back.
After the dogs got situated, Stack took her upper arms and pulled her into his chest. “Kiss me.”
She looked up in surprise. Street lamps added interesting shadows to her face; the cold turned her nose and cheeks pink. “Here?”
Meaning it, he said, “Anywhere you want.”
And damned if her gaze didn’t drop down his body.
The effect of her interest was far, far different from Whitney’s.
Stifling a groan, Stack urged her closer. “Yeah, don’t get me going if you can’t follow through. I’m in a bad way already.”
Pleased, she grinned up at him. “You’re the one who wanted to talk so much this morning.”
He could feel her warming, softening, and it spurred him on. “We talked about you. Fascinating topic. How could I resist?”
Her husky laugh sharpened the ache. “I was offering sex.”
Against her lips, he whispered, “Offer it again.”
She stared at his mouth, teasing busy fingers over the neckline of his shirt, occasionally stroking his skin. “I want to.”
Kissing her seemed like a really good idea, so he did. Softly, barely there. Except that as he leaned away she followed, then licked his bottom lip in invitation.
