Rose frowned at him, but Andrew didn't mind. At least she was talking to him, even if this wasn't going as well as he'd planned.
"Not really," he admitted. "She seems like a nice enough kid, much better than the..." He stopped, realizing he could get in trouble if he wasn't careful.
"The other girls Bobby's dated?" Rose finished for him. "Mrs Martin told me."
"There are no secrets on the Dead Horse," Andrew declared. "Not as long as Mrs Martin's around."
He leaned forward and wished like hell that they were alone. He should never have started talking about Bobby and this damn wedding in the first place. "Honey, all i want is a truce."
"You want a wedding."
He wanted a life. "You can't protect that little niece of yours forever, Roro. One of these days you are going to have to let go."
"Which is none of your business," the woman he wanted to take to bed tonight declared, and not too softly, either.
So much for the truce.
SHE knew she shouldn't drink when she was with him. Hadn't she blamed the brandy or cognac or whatever it was for the night she spent in bed with a stranger?
"I shouldn't drink." She managed to explain when dizziness made her grab onto Andrew's arm as they crossed the restaurant's parking lot to the Cadillac. "Especially when you are around."
"You had two beers," Andrew said, putting one very strong arm around her waist so she wouldn't fall.
"One and a half."
"And a steak dinner," he added. "So you are not drunk, Roro. It's more likely the heat. Once you get in the car with the air-conditioning on you'll be fine." He managed to unlock the car and open the passenger door without letting go of her. Well, Rose decided, whatever made her dizzy also made her too aware of his fingers her waist. And when he guided her to the seat his forearm ever so briefly brushed her breasts.
She was sure he'd done it deliberately, but she didn't actually mind. Not enough to protest or pull away. The sensations sweeping along her skin weren't exactly unpleasant.
"Excuse me," Andrew said, moving his arm. Then, still leaning over her as he stood half in, half out of the car, he said, "To hell with this."
When his mouth came down on hers it was as if she'd kissed him a thousand times and could kiss him ten thousand more, if she could just stay in this car. He braced one arm on the seat above her shoulder, the other on the seat next to her thigh. And he continued to kiss her until Rose grew dizzy again, though this time from sheer desire and not the stifling Texas temperature.
She lifted her arms and curled them around his neck while his tongue did lovely things to the inside of her mouth. Somehow she managed to inch toward the steering wheel, giving Andrew room to ease onto the seat and free both hands. Having him next to her certainly heated things up.
She didn't know why or how he had this effect on her, but her normally controllable body disintegrated into a quivering mass of sexual awareness whenever he looked at her.
And touched her.
And kissed her in a way that said, "I'm taking you to bed now."
When his hand tangled with her dress hem and connected with bare thigh, Rose knew she was in trouble. Her first reaction to such an intimate touch was relief, followed by a sheer delightful physical sensation. She forgot she was in a parking lot somewhere in Texas, forgot the sun had yet to set and give them the privacy of darkness, forgot all those promises she'd made to herself about abstinence and propriety and self-control.
His lips dropped to her neck, his fingers skimmed her thigh and higher, to graze the silk underwear she'd foolishly worn on a hot day. His thumb dipped beneath the elastic and touched...
"Damn, Andrew what do you think you are doing?" a male voice asked.
Rose opened her eyes at the same time Andrew untangled himself from her clothing and peered around to see Bobby Calhoun staring at him.
"Seat belt was stuck," Andrew explained in a gruff voice.
Bobby's jaw hung open, as if he couldn't believe what he just witnessed. "It does that sometimes," he agreed.
Rose felt her face turn red and, as Andrew left the seat to stand between her and the car door, tried to rearrange her clothing.
"Were you looking for us?" Andrew asked Bobby.
"Yeah. Uh, i just dropped Francisca off at the drug store. She wanted to look at those bridal magazines to get ideas for the wedding. So I thought I'd drive through town and see if you two were still having dinner somewhere."
"We were," Andrew said. "We're on our way home."
"Uh, yeah," he said, peering around Andrew to stare at Rose again. "I can see that."
"You'd better get back to your fiancée," Andrew advised, and Bobby turned and hopped into his truck.
Within seconds he'd left the parking area and headed south along Main Street, leaving Andrew standing by the car. Andrew ducked his head to smile at Rose.
"That was a close call," he said.
"It's what we get for behaving like that in a public place."
"We can go back to my house," he suggested. "I could show you my quilts." The expression in his eyes was one she'd seen before.
Pure unadulterated lust.
Which only meant one thing to Rose: It was time to get out of Texas.
*****
CHECK OUT MY NEW STORY 'ANNIE'S PERFECT HUSBAND'
*****