Author: Jill Shalvis

They both knew that wasn’t true.

And good God, just looking at him did something to her. His hair was tousled, like he’d been shoving his fingers through it. Stubble darkened his jaw, and his firm, sensuous mouth was unsmiling. The scar above his brow was new and shiny, and the mirrored sunglasses only added to the whole ruffian look he had going on.

It suited him, in a big way.

He was dressed in cargoes and a dark T-shirt snug across his broad chest and loose over his abs. He looked big, bad, built, and dangerous as hell.

And he was hers for the evening.

Hers.

Not one of her smartest moves. But stretching her wings wasn’t about keeping her head. It was about…being. Living.

Feeling.

And the man definitely made her feel, a lot. Already in their short acquaintance, he’d made her feel curious, annoyed, frustrated, and the topper…

Aroused.

She was feeling that right now in fact, in spades. She wanted to shove up his shirt and lick him from Adam’s Apple to belly button.

And beyond.

Slowly he pushed the sunglasses to the top of his head and his stark green eyes locked unwaveringly on hers. She knew he couldn’t really read her mind, but she jumped and flushed a little guiltily anyway for where her thoughts had gone.

He pushed away from the railing and came toward her, all those muscles moving fluidly and utterly without thought. She had no idea what she’d expected, but it wasn’t for him to take her hand in his and pull her around to the side of the Ferris wheel, out of view, between a storage shed and the pier railing.

“W-what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer. He merely put his big hands on her, lifted her up to her tiptoes, and covered her mouth with his.

Her purse fell in a thud at her feet. Her fingers slid into his hair. And when his tongue slid over hers, all her bones melted away.

Then before she knew it, the kiss was over and she was weaving unsteadily on her feet, blinking him into focus. “What was that?”

He scooped up her purse and handed it to her. “I lost my head. You’re distracting.”

“And you’re not?”

His eyes heated. “We could fix that.”

“Oh no,” she said. “You said you weren’t a long-term bet. You said you weren’t even a short one.”

“But I’m on your list. Your list of Mr. Wrongs.”

“Yeah, about that. I’ve rearranged the order of the list.” This was a bold-faced lie. She’d not rearranged the list. He was the list.

He raised a brow. “Did what’s-his-name from the hardware store get ahead of me? The one who sleeps with anyone with boobs?”

“Maybe.”

“I was at the hardware store today,” he said. “Anderson was there, flirting with some cute young thing.” Leaning in, his mouth found its way to her ear. “You can take Anderson off your list.”

Oh no he didn’t. He didn’t just tell her what to do. “I—”

He pressed her into the railing and kissed her again. Apparently he didn’t want to hear it. That was okay, because she forgot her own name, much less who was on her list. She had her tongue in his mouth, her hands in his silky hair, and her breasts mashed up to his hard, warm chest. She’d have climbed inside him if she could.

You came here to ask him questions.

In an attempt to go back to that, she squeezed her thighs, thinking keep them together, but his knee nudged hers, and then he slid a muscled thigh between hers. Good. Lord. He felt so…good. Drawing on some reserve of strength she didn’t know she had, she pushed on his chest. For a beat he didn’t budge, then he stepped slowly back, his eyes heavy-lidded and sexy.

“Okay,” she said shakily. “Let’s try something that’s not going to lead to round two of sex in a public place.” His expression was giving nothing away. Not exactly open, but she was a woman of her word, and she wanted to know he was a man of his. “What do you do for a living? Are you…military?” she asked, letting loose of the one thing she couldn’t seem to get out of her head. It was the way he carried himself: calm, steady, looking ready for anything, and that bone-deep stoicism. Not to mention how he’d looked while at Ryan’s bedside—like he knew to the depths of his soul what Ryan was feeling.

A low, wry laugh rumbled out of him. “So we’re going to ease into this then.”

“Yeah.” She was glad to see the smile. “You don’t know this about me, but I tend to jump in with both feet.”

“I noticed.” He looked at her, his eyes reminding her that he knew other things about her as well, things that made her blush. “At the moment I’m rebuilding a few cars.”

This didn’t exactly answer her question, and in fact, only brought on more questions. “So you’re a mechanic?” she asked.

“While I’m here in lucky Harbor.”

“But—”

“My turn. The other night. Why me?”

She squirmed a little at this, although it was a fair enough question. He already knew that what they’d done that night at the auction had been a first for her, but what he didn’t know, couldn’t know, was that she’d only been able to do it at all because she’d felt something for him. Which was crazy; they’d been perfect strangers. “Like I said, it’d been a long time.”

“So I was handy?”

“Well, Anderson already had a date, so…”

He growled, and she laughed. “I don’t know exactly,” she admitted. “Except…” Just say it. “I felt a connection to you.”

He was looking very serious now, and he slowly shook his head. “You don’t want to feel connected to me, Mallory.”

“No, I don’t want to. But I do. And there’s more.”

“The whole bored and restless thing?” he asked.

So he’d also overheard her entire conversation with her mother. The man had some serious listening skills.

“You used me to chase away your restlessness,” he said quietly.

“Yes.” She winced. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Mallory, you can use me any time.”

“But you said one-time only,” she reminded him.

“Actually, you said that. And plans change. Apparently I left you needing more, which is the same thing as unsatisfied in my book.” His gaze went hot and dark. “We’ll have to fix that.”

She felt her body respond as if he’d already touched her. He hadn’t left her unsatisfied at all. In fact, she’d never been more satisfied in her life. “Ice cream,” she whispered, her throat suddenly very dry. “I think I need ice cream.”

He smiled knowingly but didn’t challenge her. They walked to the ice cream stand. The server was small for a guy in his early twenties and painfully thin, but the warm smile he flashed at Mallory distracted from his ill appearance. “Hey, Mal,” he said. “Looking good today.”

Lance gave her this same line every time that he landed in the ER. He could be flat on his back, at death’s door—which with his Cystic Fibrosis happened more than anyone liked—and he’d still flash Mallory those baby blues and flirt.

He was one of her very favorite patients. “Where’s your pretty girlfriend?” she teased, knowing he’d been dating another nurse, Nancy, for months now.

An attractive brunette poked her head out from behind Lance and smiled. “She’s right here. Hey, Mallory” Nancy’s eyes locked onto Ty and turned speculative. “Seems like Lance isn’t the only one with a pretty date.”

Mallory laughed at the look on Ty’s face. He actually didn’t react outwardly, but it was all in his eyes as he slid her a glance. She decided to take mercy on him and wrap things up. “I’ll need a double scooped vanilla.”

“So the usual,” Lance said. “You ever going to branch out? Add a twist of cookie dough, or go for a walk on the wild side and add sprinkles?”

Mallory very carefully didn’t look at Ty. “Not this time.” She’d already taken her walk on the wild side, and wild walk on the dark side was standing right next to her.

Lance served Mallory, then looked at Ty, who shook his head. No ice cream for him.

Which was probably how he kept his body in such incredible shape, Mallory thought as she reached into her pocket for cash. Ty beat her to it, paying for her ice cream.

“Watching your girlie figure?” Mallory asked him, licking at the ice cream as they walked.

His eyes never left her tongue. “Girlie figure?”

There was nothing girlie about him, not one thing. “Maybe you’re dieting,” she said. Another lick. “Fighting the bulge.”

Ty Garrison didn’t have an ounce of fat on him, and they both knew it. But he did have a very dark, hot look as he watched her continue to lick at her cone. Like maybe he was a hungry predator and she was his prey. The thought caused another of those secret tingles.

“You think I’m fighting the bulge?” he asked softly.

She reached out and patted his abs. Her hand practically bounced off the tight muscles there. “I wouldn’t worry about it. It happens to all of us,” she said lightly, taking another slow lick of her ice cream. “Does your break from work have anything to do with your leg?”

“Yes.” His eyes never left her mouth. She was playing with fire, and she knew it.

“You know this whole man of mystery thing isn’t as cute as you might think,” she said. “Right?”

“I’m not cute.”

“No kidding!”

A very small smile curved his mouth as he studied her for a moment, as if coming to a decision. “You asked if I’m military. I was.”

Her gaze searched his. “And now?”

“Like I said, I’m working on cars.”

“And when you’re not working on cars?” she asked with mock patience. “What do you do then?”