Last Call (Book #2 - Heat Wave Series) Read online

  The press of her body against his was like slamming into a brick wall. His nuts tightened. His cock turned to granite. And his heart jumped up and grabbed him by the throat, threatening to choke the life out of him.

  Jesus Christ. It was only a playful hug, but his body registered the contact as full penetration. He dropped his arm from her shoulder, stepped away, and dug into his too-tight pocket for the keys.

  He was in a fuck-load of trouble. Mixing business and pleasure was a dangerous game, but it seemed unavoidable. He had no willpower where she was concerned, and if she didn’t mind a little mixing, he sure as hell wouldn’t.

  Chapter Nine

  Gavin got behind the wheel, buckled up, and cranked the ignition. The engine turned over and Metallica blasted from the speakers. “Oh, shit.” He hit the power button on the radio, and the car fell into silence. “Sorry.”

  She stared at him, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, for a second, then burst into laughter. “Why do you look embarrassed? I play my music loud all the time.”

  “Yeah, well… When I’m alone it’s different. I hadn’t expected anyone to be with me when I got back in the car.” Until last night, he’d forgotten how awesome it could be to drive down the road with the wind whipping through the car, music blaring, not a care in the world. A simple pleasure he’d recreated on the ride back to Anticue this morning.

  He couldn’t see through her sunglasses, but he felt her gaze on him, studying him. “You don’t strike me as a Metallica person,” she said.

  “What would you have expected?”

  “Classical.”

  “Classical?” He nearly choked on the word. Disgusted, he shook his head and slipped on his sunglasses. Backing out of his spot, he asked, “Which way to the coffee?”

  The sucker made a popping sound as she pulled it from her mouth, drawing his attention. His gaze followed the path of her tongue as she licked the sticky residue from her lips, and his tongue pushed against the back of his teeth, wanting a shot at finishing the cleanup for her.

  “Turn left out of the parking lot. We're going to the convenience store by the bridge.”

  He noticed the old store when he turned off the bridge, but convenience wasn’t the descriptive word he would have used. Decrepit. Run-down. Maybe condemned.

  Pulling onto Atlantic Avenue, he said, “I've worked this every way imaginable, and I can't figure out how you get Sunny from A.L.?”

  From the corner of his eye, he saw her glance his way and smile. “Did you hurt anything with all the thinking?”

  The thinking hadn’t been painful. Seeing Sunny nearly naked and not touching her had been excruciating. “Nope.” He looked at her over the top of his sunglasses. “Everything works just fine.”

  Her lips parted as she pulled in a breath, and he hoped like hell her thoughts were running along the same lines as his. She licked her lips before returning her gaze to the road in front of them. “My name's Aimee Lee, but my dad nicknamed me Sunny.”

  “It certainly seems to fit your personality.”

  “That’s what he said.” She laughed. “He also thought it was funny to mix a first name like Sunny with the last name Black.”

  “You must have gotten your sense of humor from him. Last night, I thought Blackout was just a clever name for a bar. When I pulled into the parking lot this morning, I made the connection between the bar name and the owner’s name.”

  Sunny relaxed against the headrest. “Robby came up with it. I’ll never forget the night he came running into the house, so eager to share his brilliance he was about to pop. I had to admit it was catchy and agreed to use it.”

  “How long have you owned the bar?”

  “The bar's been open two years. It took us almost a full year to get the repairs and renovations made to the building before we could open.”

  Gavin eased into the Anticue Quickstop parking lot, and Sunny tore out of the vehicle before he cut the engine. As he lagged behind, making his way to the front door, he took in the peeling paint, rusted awnings, and non-functional gas pumps.

  Max's complex would lure large chain stores and strip malls to the area, forcing small mom-and-pop businesses like this one to close. Sunny would have money from the sale of her property to start over, but owners of businesses like this would be left out in the cold.

  And what about the residents who liked Anticue the way it was?

  Not for the first time, a load of guilt settled on Gavin’s shoulders as he considered the negative impact of doing his job well.

  He pushed the store’s squeaky screen door open and found Ed, one of the two older men from the Blackout, sitting behind the counter, watching Sunny pour a large cup of coffee from an industrial-sized coffee pot. The older gentleman turned an assessing gray gaze toward Gavin. After studying him for a beat, he looked back to Sunny. “I figured you must be getting low.”

  Sunny stopped pouring and turned to Ed, total disbelief written all over her face. “Why didn't you say something?”

  “Well, I didn't think about it till yesterday, when I saw your big bag of Dum-Dums sitting here, waiting to be picked up.” He paused, and a mischievous expression creased his weatherworn face. “Last night you were too busy flirting with Mr. Hot Shot for me to have a chance to mention it.”

  Mr. Hot Shot?

  Sunny pressed her lips together, then slowly and carefully set the pot back on the burner. Gavin had the impression she was being overly cautious, afraid of slamming it down, otherwise. With full-to-the-brim coffee cup in hand, she stalked to the counter. She rested one elbow on the aged wood, then leaned over so she was nose to nose with Ed. “What about after Mr. Hot Shot left?”

  “Well, by that time I'd forgotten.”

  Sunny drew back and shook her head. “No, you were pouting and decided to let me suffer.”

  “That too.”

  Gavin pulled a hand down his face, suppressing his laughter.

  “You're spoiled. I should've never gotten you and Joe those personalized barstool covers for Christmas.” She crossed her arms and tapped her toe. “What are you going to do in a few weeks when the summer crowds start coming in, and I’m not able to give you two my undivided attention anymore?”

  A short, older woman ambled from a room at the back of the store. “Hey, Sunny. I thought I heard you out here. What's Ed done now?”

  Sunny wrapped the other woman in a warm, affectionate embrace. “The old fart let me run out of coffee. He knew I was getting low, but he didn't warn me.”

  The woman sent Ed a chiding look, then turned her attention to Gavin. “You must be the young man from the bar last night.”

  Having grown up in a small town not far from here, Gavin knew there was no sense in being evasive. By nine o’clock this morning, every Anticue resident knew he’d been in the Blackout. They also knew he’d stayed after closing. That’s where the knowledge ended, but, no doubt, each of them had chosen to create their own ending to the story. Miss Jane was difficult to read, giving no clue what outcome she’d chosen to go with. He nodded and said, “Yes, ma’am. You must be Miss Jane.”

  Her eyes narrowed slightly and her brow dipped. “How do you know that?”

  Gavin glanced at Ed and let a slow, devilish smile crawl across his face. The old man snapped flagpole rigid and paled to a color that matched the dirty white walls. “I heard all about you last night,” Gavin said, turning back to Miss Jane. “You’ve been married forty years, right?”

  Suspicion clouded her eyes, but her mouth lifted slightly. “Almost forty-one.”

  Gavin knew the old man was reliving every word of the conversation in the bar last night, the part about taking a year off for good behavior clanging loud and clear. Gavin winked at Sunny, who’d also gone statue still, then turned to fully face Ed and Miss Jane.

  He’d been teasing Ed in retaliation for the Mr. Hot Shot comment, but being married forty years was nothing to joke about. He grew serious, and said, “That’s a long time and something to be proud of. Co
ngratulations.”

  Miss Jane’s demeanor once again shifted. “You think you and Sunny could make it forty years?”

  Sunny gasped. “Miss Jane.” Her voice was a high-pitched screech. “I can’t believe you said that.”

  Miss Jane was a smart lady, and not someone to underestimate. Normally in situations like this, he would turn on the charm, be friendly, and get to know everyone associated with Sunny, trying to learn as much as possible about her. Even though it hadn’t been intentional, his old MO had come through, and Miss Jane hadn’t missed a beat in turning his charm against him.

  Sunny threw Gavin an apologetic glance, then turned to the older woman. “We’ve only just met. He came here for business and…” Her lips tightened and her forehead creased. “His business is finished, so he’ll be leaving soon.”

  “What kind of business?” the older couple asked simultaneously.

  Since the project was still under wraps, he needed to be careful about divulging information. The public relations people were paid a lot of money to put their magical spin on things like this. Presenting the resort as good and positive and deflecting the possible negative impacts wasn't his forte, especially when he wasn’t sold on the project himself. He hedged for a moment, then flat-out lied. “I work for a distributor. I came to talk to Sunny about using our products.” The lie tasted like shit in his mouth, and he couldn’t meet Sunny’s gaze.

  Without commenting further, Sunny ran to the back of the store and grabbed three containers of coffee. Dropping them onto the counter, next to the huge bag of Dum-Dums, she said, “This should last me a few weeks.” She gave Ed a look that was a mixture of sweet and spicy. “If it appears I might be running low, I’d appreciate a reminder.”

  Clearly unconcerned by her passive-aggressiveness, the older man chuckled and shrugged. “We’ll see.” After tallying and bagging the items, he pulled a receipt from the register, wrote Sunny's name on the top, and dropped it into a box. “It’s on your tab.”

  Sunny dropped the spice and poured a super-sized helping of sugar onto Ed, going so far as to bat her eyelashes dramatically. “You know, you could bring the coffee and suckers to me at the bar every couple of weeks. That way I'd never run out.”

  “I might could do that.” He glanced to Gavin, then gave Sunny a toothy grin. “Depending on how you treat me, I'll see what I can do.”

  ***

  Sunny settled into the passenger seat of Gavin's SUV and drew in a deep breath. However, rather than calming her jumbled nerves, the smell of new car, warm leather, and hot Gavin stirred her inner turmoil into an increased state of agitation.

  When Ed showed up tonight, she would throttle him. First, for letting her run out of coffee. Secondly, for embarrassing her—again—over Mr. Hot Shot.

  “Back home?” Gavin asked, climbing behind the wheel.

  “Yep.” She studied his profile as he put his sunglasses on, then steered out of the lot. “Why did you lie about your business?”

  The muscle in his jaw worked as he clenched his teeth together. After a long time of thinking about the simple question, he blew out a breath and said, “I didn't want to upset them. It wouldn't be prudent to spill the beans before we're ready to break ground.”

  “That was smart, because if your project depends on me selling, you won’t be breaking ground.” Okay, that sounded bitchier than she’d intended, but the coffee hadn’t kicked in yet and she wanted to make sure he understood. She. Wasn’t. Selling.

  Ever.

  He didn’t respond, and they rode the rest of the way to the Blackout in silence. Gavin pulled into the same spot and put the car in park, but left the motor idling as he stared at the building in front of them. “You would make enough from the sale of this building to open another bar anywhere you wanted.”

  Well, shit. He hadn’t understood. She grabbed her bag and climbed out of the car. Before slamming the door shut, she said, “Thanks for the ride.”

  The car’s engine died and Gavin was hot on her heels as she rounded the back of the building and climbed the stairs. “Sunny, just listen to what I have to say. I’ll even let you name your price.”

  Ha! Wonder what he’d say if she told him ten million dollars. She must have completely lost her mind, though, because she didn’t think she’d sell for even that ridiculous amount.

  She stopped and turned to face off with him. “This is more than a bar, Gavin. This is our home. There are some things money can’t buy. Roots. A solid foundation. Friends.” She bit her lip to stop the tirade and took a deep breath. “Robby and I poured our hearts and souls into this place. It’s not for sale. And I refuse to continue this discussion any further.”

  Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she pushed through the kitchen door, then fought the urge to slam it in his face. Figuring he still wasn’t ready to give up, she tore a chunk out of the brown paper bag, grabbed a Sharpie, and in huge, clearly legible letters wrote: NOT FOR SALE!

  He’d followed her into the kitchen and was standing by the door, hands stuffed into his front pockets, watching her. She held the note up to his face and said, “Read it out loud.”

  Gavin looked at the note, then pinched the bridge of his nose and pressed his lips together. She got the distinct impression he was trying not to laugh.

  When he didn’t answer, she rattled the paper under his nose. He shook his head and, holding back most of his laughter, said, “Not for sale.”

  “Good. One more time. With feeling.”

  This time, laughter filled his words as he said, “Not for sale.”

  “Okay.” She pressed the paper to his chest and waited for him to take hold before letting go. “We clear now?”

  He didn’t reply, but as she turned her back on him to unpack the bag, she heard the paper methodically crinkling, like he was folding it. Good, maybe he’d keep it to take back to his boss as her final offer.

  She needed a cigarette in the worst way. Rather than caving—only because she didn’t have any—she grabbed a butterscotch Dum-Dum and popped it in her mouth.

  “What’s with the suckers?”

  “I used Dum-Dum's to quit smoking. Now I can't quit the damn suckers.” She jammed the coffee into the cabinet and refilled the dangerously low sucker jar. Running out of coffee had been bad. Running out of Dum-Dums would spell disaster. Moving around him to throw the empty bag into the trashcan, she said, “I swear, I put something in my mouth one time, and I'm addicted. I think I have oral fixation issues.”

  The humor dissolved from his eyes and his body tensed. “That's a dangerous thing to say to a man.”

  She hadn’t meant the comment to be leading or provocative, but as the tension crackled around them and his eyes grew smoky, all kinds of images rushed to mind. “I guess that did sound kind of bad, didn’t it?”

  “I didn’t say it was bad. I said it was dangerous.” His voice was a low, suggestive purr, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. “Maybe that’s why you like kissing so much.”

  She was still pissed, but that incessant pulsing need for him hammered away at the anger and turned it into something else. Something hot, intense, and consuming.

  She stepped toward him, but then stopped. He denied knowing she was the owner last night, but what if he was lying? As the magnetic pull between them grew stronger, she wondered if it mattered. Explosive attraction like this couldn’t be faked. And it didn’t come around every day. Why not enjoy it while she had the chance?

  “I’ve said I’m not selling, but you’re still here. Why?” The breathy wisp to her voice made her sound desperate. But hell, she supposed when it came to him she was.

  His jaw popped as if he was chewing the question over… or fighting an internal battle. His eyes said he was sticking around for personal reasons, and she boldly glanced down at his slacks, hoping to find confirmation of his interest.

  Oh, yeah. A big checkmark on the interest.

  “That’s a damned good question,” he said before turning to look out the wind
ow.

  She waited for further clarification, but none came.

  Uncomfortable with the awkward silence, she said, “Do you want to go for a walk on the beach, or…?” She looked at his strong profile, the flexing muscles in his shoulders and back, and the pulse pounding in his neck. She’d never been this bold, but he made her want to step out of her comfort zone and ask for things she never had the courage to request in the past. With sweating palms and a heart pounding so loudly she could hear its steady whoosh in her ears, she stepped next to him and blurted out, “We could pick up where we left off last night.”

  Gavin’s eyes squeezed shut and his face scrunched up like he was in physical pain.

  Okay… So not the reaction she’d hoped for. “I’m sorry,” she said, crossing her arms over her stomach and taking a step backward. “I shouldn’t have been so forward. I just thought—”

  In the blink of an eye, Gavin had her in a tight grip by the elbows, an intense, scary-as-hell look on his face. “You make me crazy. I don’t think I can say no to you, even though I should. I was sent here to do a job, and sleeping with you isn’t going to make that job easier. But you zap all of my willpower, and the illogical suddenly seems to make perfect sense.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her so tightly against him she could barely breathe. Resting his chin on top of her head, he said, “I want to make love to you so badly my entire body feels like it’s going up in flames. But when I get out of your bed, I’m still going to try to talk you into selling. Can you handle that?”

  That was an easy answer. “Yes. You can talk until you’re blue in the face, but I won’t change my mind. So, really, there’s no problem. Your business is over.”

  He closed his eyes and released a long breath. “It’s not that easy. You don’t know Max Holden. He won’t stop until he’s gotten this property.”