Liz Talley - Under the Autumn Sky

She pulled one free and wiggled it. “No, and they’re not too comfortable. I think I’d rather go barefoot.”

“A barefoot Cinderella?”

She laughed. “Suits me better.”

“Well, in that case, follow me.”

Lou watched him rise from the stool, all six foot whatever of chiseled, handsome male, and grabbed her half-finished drink. She needed courage because tonight she was Louise, Cinderella, whoever, as long as she was a girl who threw caution to the wind and grabbed fantasy tight to her.

And because she’d made up her mind. Tonight on her twenty-seventh birthday, she would lose her virginity to the handsome stranger with the green eyes and magic touch.

CHAPTER THREE

ABRAM TOOK LOUISE’S hand and led her through the throng of people carousing in the bar. He didn’t fail to miss the curious glances, and occasionally envious stares, tossed their way. He also didn’t fail to hear the voice in his head saying, Don’t do anything stupid, Coach.

It sounded like Coach Holt’s voice and should have stopped him cold, but, for once, he didn’t want to listen to anyone who would talk him out of something more with Louise.

So he’d taken the wrong exit and ended up with a cold beer and a hot woman? How was that anything other than incredibly lucky?

No harm. No foul. No problem.

“Where are we going?” she asked, as he pushed open the front door, whisking them into the cool night air.

“Just somewhere a bit more private.”

She stopped and looked around. “But we’re in the middle of nowhere.”

He glanced around. “I don’t plan well.”

She laughed and his balls tightened. He could suggest going back to the motel, but it didn’t seem right. Too fast. Too obvious. And she didn’t seem like that kind of girl. Even if she had a body made for sin and a face made for salvation.

She pointed behind him. “If I remember correctly, there’s a pier over there. It goes out to the lake. We could take a moonlit walk. That’s date-appropriate, right?”

“It’s perfect.”

They linked hands and started through the high grass toward the nearly hidden pier. Thick, tangled brush grew unchecked and he wondered how she knew the pier sat nearby. He pulled at some vines, clearing the path. The vines gave and he caught his breath. The length of the old wood jutted out onto Lake Chicot, opening to a brilliant star-studded velvet sky.

“It looks like it’s steady enough,” Louise said, testing the wooden stairs with one red high heel.

He placed his weight on the wood. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

Louise bent down, slid her shoes off and set them on the bottom step. Her unpolished toes wiggled as she flexed them. “Ah, feels good. Besides, I don’t want to end up in the water. Too cold tonight.”

For the first time since they’d slipped out of Rendezvous, he noticed the chill in the air. “It is cool. Are you okay with being out here?”

Louise gave him what he thought was an unpracticed siren’s smile. “As long as you keep me warm.”

His body tightened and he grew erect. Hell. It had been a while since he’d been with a woman. His on-again, off-again playmate Alison was currently in off mode and he rarely went to bars looking for temporary comfort. He spent most of his time in the athletic facility surrounded by men. And he never picked up chicks on the road. This was a first for him.

“I can handle that,” he heard himself say. Which surprised him because his body had obviously gone into auto sex pilot.

“Good.”

He curved an arm around her shoulders, dropping his hand to her waist, which he stroked lightly. She sank into him as they climbed the steps leading to a sky of stars. The lake smelled earthy and primal, and the sound of cicadas along with the gentle lap of the water struggled to be heard over the music spilling from the honky-tonk they’d left moments ago. Altogether, Abram couldn’t have designed a more romantic spot.

They didn’t speak. Merely strolled to the end of the pier and stared out at the black water.

Louise glanced up. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

He looked at her. “Yeah, you are.”

She jerked her gaze to him. Her eyes were a stormy blue, deep like the glittering stones his mother sometimes wore. He forgot the name of them, but they were just the color of Louise’s eyes.

He wanted to kiss her.

So he did.

Dipped his head and caught her pretty pink lips.

She sighed before turning into him. He felt her breasts rise as she pressed her soft flesh into his chest. Something struck inside him, flaring, heating. He slid a hand to cup her cheek, noting how smooth her skin was, tilting his head so he could deepen the kiss.

She accommodated him, opening her mouth, giving him a taste of the spicy rum she’d had earlier. She tasted like sheer heaven, sheer molten heaven.

He pulled back and studied her. “You taste good.”

She pressed a hand to her lips. “Do I?”

He pulled her down so they sat on the edge of the pier. She snuggled next to him, dropping her legs so they dangled next to his.

“This is like a fairy tale,” she said, glancing at him. The shadows had pulled back into the night, leaving her face luminescent in the moonlight. Her skin glowed against the ripeness of her lips, against the depths of her eyes. Her blond hair shone like a curtain on either side of her face. He was fairly certain he’d never seen a woman so delicate and lovely. “I feel like a fairy princess. It’s strange.”

“It probably sounds like a cheesy pickup line, but I think this is some crazy fate thing.”

“Fate disguised as magic,” she said.

“I took the wrong exit, you know.”

“What?”

“I missed my turn and took the exit for Chicot State Park thinking to wind my way back to Ville Platte. But I saw Rendezvous and decided to stop for a beer.”

“So fate brought me a Prince Charming. For one night only.”

“For one night only,” he repeated.

She took a breath, almost like a steadying breath. “Can we dance?”

“Out here?”

She nodded. “It’s been so long, and it was so nice to be held in your arms. We can hear the music from Cooter’s. Listen. It’s George Strait.”

He cocked an ear in the direction of the honky-tonk. “So it is.” He held out a hand with a questioning crook of an eyebrow.

She took his hand. Her reflective smile looked slightly sheepish, as if she knew they were acting silly. Okay, they were. But so the hell what?

She melted into his arms and under the night sky, he held her close, drawing in the silky scent of something flowery, and swayed to the faint sounds of the steel guitar. She fit him well, her head tucking under his chin, her breasts hitting him right at his solar plexus, her hips brushing the rising result of being so close.

She hummed along to the music, stroking her hands over his back, as if she knew that drove him crazy, taking him to the place he wanted to go, but was afraid to say aloud.

The song ended but still they swayed, their footfalls barely rising as they shuffled over the worn boards.

“My feet are cold,” she murmured into his shoulder.

He raised his head from where he’d been contemplating the delicateness of her ear. “We should go.”

“No,” she breathed. “I don’t want this to end. Not yet. It’s not midnight.”

He laughed. “Fine, but let’s go back. We can sit in my truck and I’ll put the heater on your toes.”

She shook her head. “I’d rather have cold toes. It’s too perfect here.”

He pulled her down, crossing his legs and settling her into his lap. She curled into him and he wrapped his arms around her. “I was right. You’re stubborn.”

Her laugh was light, but she didn’t respond to his comment. Just tucked her cold toes beneath the hem of her too-long jeans and settled against him. He could feel the beat of her heart, the rise of her breath, and was struck at how absolutely strange this moment was.