Addison Fox - Silken Threats

Fascinated by the softness of her cheek, he skimmed his thumb toward her jawline, tracing the firm length. “Don’t you think she owes you the truth of why it’s there in the first place?”

The moment hovered between them, their bodies close even as their battle of wills kept them at an emotional distance.

“She’s an old woman. I hardly think she’s hiding secrets.”

“Everyone has secrets, Cassidy.” He shifted closer before bending his head to press his lips along the same path his thumb had traveled. The light sigh that floated between them encouraged him, and he ran his lips over her slightly open ones, capturing the end of that small exhalation with his mouth.

Her hesitance vanished, and suddenly she was as in the moment as he was as they explored each other. Her hands settled on his hips before tangling in the material of his shirt where it bunched at his waist, and she moved closer in his arms.

Their bodies flush, Tucker felt that age-old rush of satisfaction as she came to him.

And in mere moments, he had to admit to himself that he was lost. His role as frustrated he-man—not his usual style at all —faded as he went from actively aggressive to humbly enthralled. The slim woman in his arms had turned his attraction on its ear and now stood toe-to-toe with him, giving as good as she got.

Their mouths met and clashed with a fierce urgency that gripped them both, drove them both.

Destroyed them both.

Her soft lips were lush under his, begging him to drink his fill. But when she turned on him, taking his bottom lip between hers, Tucker knew a moment of such deep-seated weakness his knees nearly buckled.

Who was this woman?

Drawing back, he stared at her, dazzled by the fierce urgency that had consumed them, locking them in a moment rife with power and need.

A witchy little smile tinged those bee-stung lips. “You look surprised, Lancelot.”

“Lancelot?”

That smile broadened as she cocked her head. “You were the one with the white-knight complex this morning.”

“I’m not feeling very pure and honorable at the moment.”

“That makes two of us.” Her temptress’s smile shifted, gentled, as she released her hold on his waist. “But it doesn’t change the fact we don’t know each other very well.”

He knew he was staring, unable to look away from the vivid, bright woman standing before him. But he also knew she had secrets.

And some level of fear that ran deeper than even she likely understood.

Willing his raging blood to cool, Tucker took a step back of his own, seeking some sort of equilibrium in that extra degree of space.

“I can at least buy you dinner. You up for burgers?”

“A man after my own heart.”

A funny little tingle settled low in his gut at the mention of her heart, but he ignored it. Instead, he grabbed her hand—unable to not touch her after what they’d shared—and pulled her toward the door. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Cassidy snagged a crisp French fry, loaded with cheese, bacon and ranch dressing, and avoided a low moan as the combination passed her lips.

“These are good.” Tucker shoved about three fries to her one in his mouth, his head nodding as he chewed. “Really good.”

“Angry Dog makes one of the best burgers in town. And their cheese fries are to die for. I have to promise cleansings and salads for a week to even get Vi to consider this place.”

A lone eyebrow raised across the scarred wooden table. “Do I dare ask what’s involved in a cleansing?”

“Not if you want to enjoy that burger that’s about to be set in front of you.” Cassidy glanced at their waitress, who hovered over them with two plates loaded with juicy burgers and even more of those delicious golden French fries. Their waitress settled the plates, and Cassidy didn’t miss the appreciative glance the young woman gave Tucker.

Nor did she miss Tucker’s abstract smile when he nodded for another iced tea.

Cassidy waited a beat until the woman was out of earshot before she spoke. “I think you wounded her.”

“I’m sorry?” He glanced up from the ketchup bottle, confusion stamped clearly in his dark eyes.

“Our waitress. She was getting her flirt on and you seemed oblivious.”

“She wasn’t flirting. She asked me if I wanted a refill on my drink.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“She wasn’t flirting, and even if she was, I’m here with you. Why would I make eyes at her?”

Cassidy nearly fumbled her bun as she layered on her own spread of ketchup. Who was this man?

She’d been single longer than she wanted to admit, but even in her periods of active dating she’d struggled with men who seemed to have a wandering eye, always looking for something better to come along. Hell, even Robert had always acted like there was something better waiting around the corner.

And then he’d gone and proven it.

When she said nothing, Tucker pressed his point. “You look confused at my statement.”

“I’m not confused. Surprised, maybe, is a better word.”

“I’m full of them.” A cocky grin quirked his lips along with something else she couldn’t quite name.

Courtesy?

Humor?

Or maybe it was just another facet of that air of chivalry that seemed to hover around him like a cloak.

Either way, she couldn’t hide the fact that she found it appealing. Found him appealing.

“So tell me about your business.” Tucker split his attention between his juicy burger and her, and again Cassidy couldn’t quite fight the sense that he was unique. “Violet made a few comments about the business while we were cleaning up this morning but I didn’t get a full sense of your place.”

“We started Elegance and Lace several years ago, snagging jobs where we could. Violet’s always been an event planner and was working for a woman who can only be kindly referred to as a bitch.”

“Ow.”

“Exactly.” Cassidy nodded, remembering more than one round of after-work martinis that involved as many tears as anger-fueled words. “And Lilah did some time in a restaurant before going to work for a bakery and then doing her own stuff on the side where she could.”

“And you?”

“I’ve always designed but never thought I could make a career of it.”

“Why not?” Half his burger had vanished and she hadn’t even started on her own. Her uneaten dinner gave her a chance to hesitate for a moment as she figured out how best to answer his probing question.

Even as she worked through what she wanted to say, long-ago fights sprang up as fresh memories.

You’re meant to wear a wedding dress, not design them for spoiled socialites.

If you want a career so damn bad, the least you could do is invest in something worth your time. Law or banking instead of fripperies and lace.

My sister, down on her knees before Dallas’s brides, hemming their skirts.

“Cassidy?” The dim lighting inside the pub had turned Tucker’s eyes such a dark brown they were almost black. The color was rich and inviting, as were the small crinkles that bracketed his mouth in a smile. “You in there?”

“Yes. Sorry.” She fiddled with a fry before taking a deep breath. “Designing dresses was seen as a frivolous thing to do. In my family’s estimation.”

“Frivolous?”

“In the extreme. While waiting to marry well a woman should make herself useful by doing some staid, corporate thing like working at a bank. Then you’ll be sure to make enough money to squander it properly on a variety of items no one really needs.”

The words were out before she could pull them back. And where the hell had they come from?

She did okay for herself and had the benefit of pursuing something she loved at the same time. And she’d stopped worrying long ago about other people’s choices, even if they were her family.