Part 21 (1/2)
”Fine, if you won't help I'll do it myself. I don't need anyone to help me, anyway.” She struggled to get up, leaving him no choice but to a.s.sist her.
Oh, boy, this would be one more thing she'd blame him for once she was sober.
”Oh, it's high up here. I can see everyone. Go, Mr. Dreamy!” She pumped the air with one hand and immediately lost her balance, toppling from the table. He caught her before she could bang her head.
”I think it's time to go home,” he said, setting her on her feet.
Now Charlene was at the table. ”Samantha, how many of those have you had?”
Samantha's brow furrowed. ”How many what?”
”Never mind.” Charlene thrust out one hand, palm up. ”Give me your car keys.”
”Don't worry. I'm taking her home,” Blake said.
”To her home,” Charlene said.
What did she think he was? He didn't bother to dignify that remark with a response. Instead, he got out a bill and laid it on the table. ”Come on, party girl,” he said to Samantha. ”You've had enough fun for one night.”
He put an arm around her and started moving her out of the bar. No one noticed. They were all too busy cheering on the Mr. Dreamy wannabes as the men paraded through the maze of tables accompanied by the Weather Girls singing ”It's Raining Men.”
They pa.s.sed the now-empty restaurant. Patrons had either fled the noise or gone to the bar to add to it.
”Is my head still connected to my neck?” Samantha asked as he opened the door for her. ”It feels like a balloon.”
”Yes, it's still connected but not enough for you to be driving.”
”I don't want to go home with you,” she said petulantly. ”And I'm not going to run around the bank in my underwear or let you drown me in a vat of chocolate, either.”
He blinked. ”What?”
She blinked. ”Uh, never mind.”
They were at his car now, a cla.s.sic red Camaro in which he took great pride. He opened the door and she fell onto the black leather seat, giving him a view of leg and beyond that sent the blood rus.h.i.+ng from his head to an area slightly farther south.
Alcohol and a gorgeous female he was attracted to-that was all it took to make him want to do what men were designed to do. There were only a couple of drawbacks. Three actually. One, she was drunk. Two, she despised him. Three, he pretty much despised himself.
His parents had raised him to be a gentleman and that was exactly what he was going to be. But his fingers itched to touch her.
He got behind the wheel and started the engine, and the car roared to life like a giant beast. That made two beasts on the road. She leaned her head back against the cus.h.i.+ons and closed her eyes, unaware of how s.e.xy she looked with that long neck exposed, just waiting for someone to nibble on it.
”I'm tired,” she sighed.
That comment had nothing to do with the time. He slanted a look her way. Now she was staring at him with those big hazel eyes.
A tear slipped from one and rolled down her cheek. ”I'm trying so hard.”
Oh, no. Don't cry. Please don't cry. ”Samantha,” he began.
She held back a sob and turned her face to the window. ”I've drained my savings, I've had to beg all our suppliers to keep-” She pressed her lips firmly together to stop any more secrets from leaking out and wiped at a corner of her eye.
He pulled off the street. Now they were by the park. The giant fir tree that the town made great ceremony of lighting every Christmas loomed, creating the illusion of privacy. ”Come here,” Blake said, and drew her close to him, not an easy task considering the fact that this d.a.m.ned car had bucket seats.
She looked up at him, her head on his shoulder. Her hair brushed his cheek like a caress. ”So many families in this town depend on us. What would Icicle Falls be without Sweet Dreams? Without chocolate? What would the world be without chocolate?”
This probably wasn't the time to tell her he was allergic to the stuff.
”Nothing in this world is better than chocolate,” she murmured.
”Oh, there are some things,” he said, staring at her lips. Don't do it.
”Ha! Like what?” He knew the second she recognized the glint in his eye. Her eyes widened, then her gaze dropped, showing him a flutter of long lashes. She looked at his lips and wet hers.
Okay, gentleman or no, he knew an invitation when he saw one. He leaned over and kissed her. She whimpered and he deepened the kiss, threading his fingers through her hair. He could feel her melting, all that female softness surrendering to him. Oh, yeah, there was something in this world a lot better than chocolate.
He had just gotten her into his lap and had a hand sliding along her thigh when her fingers froze in the middle of taking a trip up his neck. She pulled back and gaped at him in horror. ”You...you...”
Beast. She was right. He was taking unfair advantage and they needed to stop. But not this way, not with her wearing that look of betrayal. ”Samantha,” he protested. ”I'm not your enemy.”
”Yes, you are and I almost slept with you!” she cried.
A few hot kisses on a cold night did not equal sleeping with the enemy.
She didn't give him a chance to tell her that, though. She was already scrambling off his lap. Now she had her hand on the door handle. ”Samantha, wait,” he begged.
She didn't. She got out of the car, pulling her purse after her, and slammed the door. Then she was off, marching a crooked path down the street.
He fumbled the keys in the ignition and started the car, then rolled down the window. ”Where are you going?” he called.
”Home!”
He cruised alongside her. ”I'll take you.”
”You've taken me far enough for one night,” she snapped. ”I'll walk.”
”You can't walk,” he protested. But of course she could. It was perfectly safe in Icicle Falls. Really, the only danger to her had been the wolf behind the wheel, he thought glumly as he watched her lurch away.
He swore and smacked the steering wheel. This whole situation sucked.
He needed to reconsider his career choice.
Chapter Sixteen.
Helping your family is the equivalent of helping your family's business.