Ryan stepped back, probably out of an instinctive desire to survive. Owen radiated threats of malice. Bree empathized with Ryan. When she’d first met Owen, she was struck by his size and clipped manner, but she’d never felt threatened by him. Not once.
Without waiting for Ryan’s answer, Owen took Bree’s hand firmly in his and pulled her right out the doors and into the parking lot. The night air was warm and hugged against her skin, like walking into a sauna. The sound of the band’s next number became smaller, notes from a music box.
Owen rounded on her so quickly that she had to step back to avoid being stepped on. He paced, his right hand holding her left and pulling her along. She lengthened her stride to keep up and not be dragged behind. He ran his free hand through his hair. She wondered what it felt like, because it was short and spiky but it didn’t look stiff. “I shouldn’t like you.”
Bree scowled. “What a horrible thing to say.” She tugged on her hand to pull it free, ready to stomp back inside and enjoy the company of a man who doted on her—or at least said nice things.
Owen didn’t let go of her hand. In fact, he used it to tug her closer. “I mean it. We are two very different people. You like books.”
“Love books,” she corrected.
“Love books, and I struggled in school.” His gaze darted away, and she got the feeling that it was difficult for him to admit that he didn’t excel in the classroom.
Had he thought she would think less of him? If he did, he didn’t understand that her heart and mind didn’t function that way. “Owen, there are dozens of types of intelligence in the world—and I would test below average at most of them. Including sports. But you have sports intelligence, and the ability to move your body with such grace that it amazes me.”
“Fine. But Bree, we are different. You’re quiet and I’m pushy. You’re cute—”
She pointed at his chest in warning and he stopped pacing, allowing her to catch her breath.
“See. Right there. I always thought cute was a compliment.”
She lowered her arm and pressed her lips together.
He forged on, earning his pushiness. “The thing is, I can’t seem to stay away from you. And when you danced with Robin—”
“Ryan.”
“Whatever. I wanted to plow him into the wall.”
She gave him a dubious look. “I think they call that jealousy.”
“It’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.”
She suddenly connected the dots. Owen liked her. He didn’t want to like her as more than a friend, but he did. And he wasn’t happy about it. Which was understandable and irrational.
He dropped her hand and placed his palms on her cheeks, gently cupping her face. His hands were huge and comforting and tender. His freshly washed skin smelled of soap and something spicy. His intense blue eyes delved into her soul, seeking understanding as well as acceptance. Owen was scared she would turn him away. “Bree, I shouldn’t like you, but I do.”
Her eyes dropped, unable to hold the intensity he poured into her. “I like you too.”
His mouth covered hers. She gasped as her pent-up desire unleashed, and then she was kissing him hungrily. She dug her hands into his soft hair and trailed her nails up the back of his neck, making him shiver.
He pushed his hands behind her neck and then brought them down her back, drawing her closer and deepening the kiss. There was a sense of urgency, almost as if he were worried that she’d push him away at any moment. He shouldn’t have worried. She was floating, never wanting to come back to earth. They explored, tasted, and soaked one another in right there in the parking lot.
They broke apart, and Owen lifted her off the ground. She buried her face in his neck. “That was … exceptional.”
His cheek pressed against her neck and she could feel the smile on his face. His beard tickled her skin, and she nuzzled against him. “Should we go back inside?” His voice was husky.
She reveled in the knowledge that she’d done that to him; she’d created a need inside this giant of a man—for her. “Actually …”
He set her down lightly, waiting for her toes to touch the pavement before standing tall.
“I’d like to ride your motorcycle.”
“Really?” His smile widened.
“It’s almost dark. I want to take a night ride.” When they were on the bike, on the open road, they were in a world all their own. One where she could hold on to him as much as she wanted, could feel his chest expand with each breath.
“Done.” He motioned for her to go first.