Lucky in Love
Page 8

“I need a moment,” Jane said.
Boss, Ty thought.
“Absolutely.” Mallory followed Jane out of the hall and into the foyer.
The auction was moving ahead at full steam now, and people were into it, jumping up and waving as they bid. Telling himself he had to stretch his aching leg, that he wasn’t at all curious about what had come so briefly over Mallory’s face, Ty left the hall.
In the entranceway, Mallory had her back to him, facing Cruella Deville. “Absolutely,” she was saying. “I’ll go upstairs and get it right now. Thank you for your addition, Jane.”
And then Jane went one way and Mallory the other, her sweet little ass sashaying as fast as she could move in those sexy heels.
Let it go, man. Let her go, he told himself. He’d heard enough from her mother to know she was a good girl just looking for a walk on the wild side. Probably she’d grown up in Lucky Harbor, which was pretty much the same thing as being in bubble wrap all her life. She was not for him.
Except.
Except here she was, clearly doing her damnedest to meet some pretty tough expectations from family and work and whatever, all while looking to spread her wings. She had guts, and he admired that. She was sexy and adorable, but no matter what she did to spread her wings, she wasn’t going to match him in life’s experiences.
Not even close.
She was clean and untainted and not jaded. She was his opposite. She was too good for him. Far too good, even when she was out there risking it all. She deserved way more than he had to offer, and he needed to just walk away. After all, he was out of here, maybe as soon as one more week. Gone, baby, gone.
He told himself all this, repeated it, and then followed her down the hallway anyway.
Mallory walked up the stairs, cursing the heels that were pinching her toes. Jane had sent her up here on a wild goose chase for an antique vase that had been accidentally left off the auction chopping block.
Mallory knew Jane’s family had built the Vets’ Hall in the early 1940s. Apparently the missing vase had sat in the entry for years, until last spring when the building had been renovated. The vase had never been put back on display and now Jane wanted it gone.
All Mallory had to do was find it.
The second story ran the length of the building. On one side was a series of rooms used by the rec center and other various groups like the local Booster Club. The other side was one big closed-off storage room. Mallory let herself in and flipped on the lights. Far above her was an open-beam ceiling and a loft area where more crap had been haphazardly shoved away. Mallory hoped like hell she wouldn’t have to climb up there in her dress and annoying heels to find the vase.
The place was warm, stuffy, and smelled like neglect. She took a good look around and felt a lick of panic at the idea of finding her way out of here, much less locating the missing vase. She moved past a huge shelving unit that was stuffed to the gills with long-lost play props and background sets, and various other miscellaneous items for which there was little use.
Not a single vase.
She walked past more shelves and around two huge, fake, potted Christmas trees before coming to a large stack of boxes leaning against the wall. Assuming the vase wouldn’t be stuffed away, she walked farther, gaze searching. Near the center of the room, she came to another long set of shelves. Here were some more valuable items, such as office equipment and furnishings, and miraculously, sitting all by itself on a shelf, a tall vase, looking exactly like the one Jane had described. Mallory couldn’t believe it. She picked it up and turned to go, and ran directly into a brick wall.
A brick wall that was a man’s chest.
Ty.
He’d appeared out of thin air, scaring her half to death. The vase flew out of her hands and would have smashed to the floor except he caught it.
His sexy suit might have given him an air of sophistication, but it did nothing to hide his bad-boy air. His hair was a little mussed, like he’d run his fingers through it repeatedly. In another man, this would have softened his look but not Ty. She wasn’t fooled. There was nothing soft about him. He was sheer trouble, and she knew it. “What are you doing?” she gasped, hand to her pounding heart.
“What are you doing?”
She snatched the vase from his hands. “Working.”
“Well, I’m helping my date work then.”
“You’re not my real date. You didn’t even know you had a date.”
He looked amused. “So you’re one of those women who holds a grudge?”
“No! I’m—”
From somewhere far behind them, the storage room door opened. “Hello? Mallory, dear?”
“Shit,” Mallory whispered, horrified. “It’s Lucille.”
“Your mother told you not to swear.”
She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Mallory?” Lucille called out.
Mallory slapped her hand over her own mouth.
“Yoo-hoo…I saw your hot date follow you in here. I just want to get a picture of you two for Facebook.”
Oh no. No, no, no…Mallory turned in a quick circle in the warm, dusty, overstuffed storage room, desperate for a place to hide.
Ty must have seen her panic because he briefly held a finger to her lips to indicate he needed her silence, then took the vase in one hand and her wrist in his other and tugged her along, farther into the shadows.
She followed, walking on her tiptoes to avoid the clicking of her heels, when suddenly Ty pressed her against the wall. “Shh,” he breathed in her ear.
Stealth. She got it. She was depending on it. She also got something else, an unexpected zing from the feel of his mouth on her ear and his body pressing into hers.
“Mallory?” Lucille called out.
Ty had gone into 007 mode. His eyes were searching their surroundings, his body ready and alert. He opened a panel she hadn’t even noticed, then pulled something from his pocket and used it inside the panel. In the next second, the lights went out.
Startled, she nearly gasped but he slid a hand over her mouth. That, combined with the way he was holding her against the wall, caused a tsunami of inappropriate feelings to rush through her.
“Don’t move.” He remained still until she nodded, and then he was gone.
Only not completely gone.
She jumped when she felt his hands on her ankles. He was crouched before her, removing first one heel and then the other. Her hands went out for balance and smacked him in the head. She heard his soft laugh, then he had her hand again and they were on the move. She couldn’t see a thing, but Ty didn’t appear to have that problem. He was navigating them both with apparent ease, leading her through the maze of the vast storage unit as if he could see in the dark. They turned corners and squeezed into spots, his hands sliding to her hips, guiding her exactly where he wanted her to go, taking care that she didn’t bump into anything. She had no idea how he could see, or even know where they were going, but she followed him.
Blindly.
It was better than the alternative.
Each time they stopped, she was pulled up against his big, warm body, until she began to anticipate it.
Crave it.
“Mallory?” Now, accompanying Lucille’s voice came a small beam of light.
Good Lord. The woman was using the same Bic app that Grace had. “Oh for the love of—”
Warm lips covered hers. “Shh.”
Right. Shh. Her knees were still melting. Her one hand was in his, trapped between their bodies, but her other hand slid up his chest, around the back of his neck and into his hair. Because she needed a hand grip, she told herself.
“How bad do you want to keep out of her sight?” Ty wanted to know, each syllable rumbling from his chest and through hers. He’d set the vase down, freeing up both his hands. She felt herself rock into him and tighten her grip on his hair, and it took a long moment to process his words because her brain was no longer firing on all cylinders.
“Mallory.”
God, she liked the sound of her name on his lips. And she liked the feeling that had come over her too, the languid yet throbbing beat of anticipation. She certainly wasn’t bored or sad now. “Hmm?”
“How bad?”
How bad did she want him? Bad.
With a little huff against her jaw that might have been another low laugh, he tightened his grip on her and spun her away from him, setting her hands on something that felt like cold steel.
“Hold on tight,” he whispered and nudged his big body up behind hers, his biceps on either side of her arms, his chest against her back.
Her mind went utterly blank, but her body didn’t. Her body went damp at the wicked thought of doing it right here, like this. From behind.
“Up,” he said, and the fantasy receded. No, he didn’t want sex. He had her in front of a ladder and wanted her to climb it.
Good thing it was dark because it hid the heat of the blush she could feel on her face. She pulled herself up, extremely aware that her butt was in his face, and then she was directly above him.
He was still apparently able to see in the dark. Which meant that he could see right up her dress. She was wearing a brand new silky black thong, her very best, but still, it couldn’t be a very good angle for her.
At the top of the ladder was the loft. Moonlight slanted in from the sole round window, revealing more stored items, a couch and a large table with chairs. The table was stacked with more stuff. There were also rows of framed pictures and empty planters, and a whole horde of other crap. Everywhere.
Mallory moved aside for Ty to join her but the standing space was so small she lost her balance and fell onto the couch.
Ty followed her down.
On the night of the storm, Mallory had been beneath him too, but it felt different this time. Sexy different, and she let out a small, half hysterical laugh.
Ty covered her mouth with his hand, shifting a little to get the bulk of his weight off of her. In the execution, one of his thighs pushed between hers and oh sweet baby Jesus. She promptly stopped laughing and moaned instead. A total involuntary, accidental moan that sounded needy and wanton. And horrifyingly loud.
Ty’s hands tightened on her and they both stilled, craning their necks, looking down into the dark storage area, following the little beam of light as Lucille weaved through the aisles below.
Ty pulled his hand from Mallory’s mouth. “Unless she can climb a ladder, we’re good here until she gives up and leaves.”
Yes. Yes, they were good here. Or very bad, depending on how one looked at it.
Above her, Ty was still as stone, a solid heated package of testosterone and sinew holding her down on the couch. She wasn’t sure what it said about her that she felt just a little bit powerless and helpless, and that she liked it.
A lot.
Another thing she liked? The fact that every time he breathed, his leg shifted up against her core, putting her body on an entirely different page than her brain.
On the get-more-of-him page.
“She won’t give up,” she whispered, more than a little breathless.
“Watch.” Ty shifted again—oh God his thigh!—and pulled something from his pocket, which he threw.
Mallory heard the ping of the coin as it landed with deadly precision all the way across the huge room near the storage room entrance.
Holy shit he could throw.
“Oh!” they heard Lucille exclaim, whipping around toward the sound. “You’re escaping, you smart girl. Darn it all!”
They watched as the little beam of light wobbled back through the room to the entrance, and then in the next moment, vanished completely.
Silence reigned.
Well, except for Mallory’s thundering heartbeat. She was in an attic loft, flat beneath her Mr. Wrong. Her common sense was screaming flee! But her secret inner bad girl was screaming oh please, can’t we have him? Just once?
“You okay?” Ty asked.
Loaded question. “You have some impressive skills,” she said. “I feel like a Bond girl.”
“You weren’t so bad yourself,” he said. “The way you shimmied up that ladder is going to fuel my fantasies for some time.”
So he could see in the dark. And now that they were up here with moonlight coming in the window, she could see too. She bit her lower lip because she could feel, too. She could feel him, all of him. Her br**sts were mashed up against his chest, plumping out of her dress suggestively. She wasn’t sure he’d noticed, but then he very purposely dropped his head, his lips just barely brushing her exposed skin. She sucked in a breath and felt him stir against her.
Yeah. He’d noticed. “I have lots of ladder practice,” she said inanely.
“Yeah?” he asked, sounding intrigued. “You climb a lot of ladders in the ER?”
“Uh, no.” Nerves had her laughing. And babbling. “But I had to clear the gutters on my house last fall before the rains hit. I nearly fell when I found a fist-sized spider waiting for me but managed not to accidentally kill myself.”
A low laugh escaped him.
“So why did you do it?” she asked.
“The ladder? Nowhere else to go but up.”
“No, I mean why did you help me hide? And thanks, by the way. You pretty much saved my butt.” Again.
He slid a hand down her arm, squeezing her hip before shocking the hell out of her when he slid that hand further, cupping said butt. “My pleasure.”
At the words, at the touch, her body liquefied. Or maybe that was his fingers, tightening on her hindquarters, making her want to squirm and rock into him.
The brand new bad girl in her took over and did exactly that.
Ty went still. She wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, but she was feeling things she hadn’t in far too long, and she intended to go with those feelings. So she squirmed again.