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“For a guy who enjoys partying, you’re in a hurry to end the night.”
Porter regretted bullying her into proving she knew how to have fun. If he’d known it would be a touchy subject with her, he never would have suggested they stop for a drink. “Hop in the truck, Wendy.”
“Is it true what your sister said? That the reason you date airheads is because you have no self-confidence?”
Ouch.
“Dixie thinks you’re afraid of girls with brains because they’ll see through you.”
The conversation was becoming less and less amusing. “See through me to what?” As soon as he asked the question he wanted to take it back. Arguing with an inebriated woman was not a smart thing to do.
“See that you’re intimidated by smart women. Women who have more than big boobs and pretty faces going for them.”
He reacted without thinking, grabbing her shoulders and pressing her against the side of the trailer. “Just remember—” his mouth hovered above hers “—I gave you a chance to shut up.” Then he kissed her.
Porter expected Wendy to push him away—instead, she curled her arms around his neck and sank into his body. Her mouth was soft and inviting and by his second pass across her lips, he was lost. Needing more, he flicked his tongue against the corner of her mouth, and she opened to him. She tasted like sweet whiskey and he couldn’t get enough of her no matter which way he angled his head. When her tongue entered his mouth, he groaned at the electric zap that shot through his chest and headed south to his groin. With her body plastered against him, it was impossible to hide his arousal from her. Only when Wendy’s moan drifted into his mouth did he realize he was cupping her breast.
The soft mound fit perfectly in his palm, and he wanted nothing more than to strip off her shirt and bra and see her naked. He moved his hand to the back of her head and held her steady as he deepened the kiss.
The rumble of a car engine reminded him that they were standing outside in plain view, and he ended the kiss slowly...a nibble here. A nibble there. The lights in the parking lot provided enough illumination for him to make out Wendy’s expression. Dazed was the best word to describe her vacant stare.
“Was that the kiss of a man who’s intimidated by a smart, savvy woman?”
Wendy opened her mouth but no words came out and she didn’t protest when he set his hands on her waist and lifted her into the truck cab. He shut the door and got in on the driver’s side. He was afraid to look at Wendy, because he knew she wouldn’t stop him if he tried to kiss her again.
“Porter.”
He kept his eyes on the steering wheel. “What?”
“You’re a good kisser.”
Swallowing a groan, he turned the key in the ignition and shifted gear. The motel wasn’t far, but Wendy fell asleep before he’d even driven a mile. When they arrived at the Holiday Inn Express, the parking lot was jammed. He left a snoozing Wendy locked in the cab and went into the motel to register.
“I’m sorry, we only have one room left,” the night manager said.
“Okay, I’ll check out the Best Western.”
“They’re full up, too. Hampton Ball Bearing is hosting its national conference this week and the motels in town are all booked. The room I have available was a late cancellation.”
The ball-bearing gods were conspiring against Porter. “I’ll take the room.” He handed over his credit card. “And I need a rollaway.”
“I’m afraid all the rollaway beds are in use.”
Great. Porter signed on the dotted line, then slid the key cards into his pocket and returned to the truck. “Hey, sleepyhead.” He shook Wendy’s shoulder. “We’re at the motel.”
He helped her from the cab, then made sure she was steady on her feet before he grabbed the overnight bags and locked the truck. Their room was on the first floor next to the exit, and he ushered her inside, then locked the door.
“What’s wrong?” he asked when she scowled at him.
“Is this my room or yours?”
“We’re sharing the room.”
“There’s only one bed,” she said.
“The motel’s booked solid. We got the last available room.”
She stared at him as if he’d left his brains in the truck. “But there’s only one bed.”
“I’ll sleep on top of the covers.”
“Did you ask for a rollaway?”
“They’re all in use,” he said.
Her gaze swung between him and the bed. She’d snuggled up to him while they shot darts then allowed him to kiss the daylights out of her when they left the bar, but evidently the short nap in the truck cab cleared her alcoholic haze and, like him, she wasn’t happy sharing a room.
Without a word, Wendy took her luggage and disappeared into the bathroom.
Porter flipped on the TV, removed his boots and belt, then stretched out across the bed—on top of the covers—and watched Mr. Muscle demonstrate how to use the Bowflex home gym. Two hours later a dull twinge in Porter’s neck dragged him out of dreamland and he opened his eyes to a dark room and Wendy’s head resting on his chest.
He must have fallen asleep while she’d taken a shower. He was reluctant to move, deciding he liked having her snuggled against his side even if she slept beneath the covers. But his bladder demanded relief so he slid out from under Wendy and went into the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, after he brushed his teeth and took a hot shower, he was wide-awake. Back in the bedroom he sat in the chair and studied Wendy’s dark silhouette in bed.
She didn’t come close to any of the women he’d dated. She was smart—not that he made a habit of dating dummies, but most of the girls he took out didn’t aspire to higher goals than finding a husband, settling down and having children. Nothing wrong with that dream, but he admitted there was something sexy about a woman who was out in the world succeeding in life without a man by her side.
In the end it didn’t matter how Wendy impressed him. She wanted to go places with her career and all he wanted to do was stay put on a ranch and raise bucking horses. As much as she’d loosened up tonight and was fun to be with, he expected her to wake in the morning and act as if nothing had happened between them. Even his kiss would be a distant memory.
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