All the Way Page 3

  How much were lassos running these days? He stifled a grin as he killed the engine and braced himself for what would follow.

  After the roar of the engine died, the quiet left behind seemed deafening.

  Leaping off the motorcycle as fast as possible, Layla landed with one ankle sideways. A breath hissed through her teeth. She held still, hoping the pain would stop.

  “If you had been patient, I would’ve helped you off.” He came around the side of the bike. “I can be a gentleman.”

  “I never would’ve guessed.” She hopped a few paces, but the pain intensified.

  Without warning, Blake swept her off her feet into his arms. He strolled up the front walkway with her, toward his house.

  “Hey. What the—? Wait a minute. Why are we at your place?”

  “I changed my mind. We need to talk. We’re doing it here.”

  “Put me down.” She got no response, bouncing up and down in his arms. “Fine. I’ll walk home. I only live a few streets away. I just need to get out of these heels.”

  “You’re in no position to make demands, sweetheart.”

  “I told you not to call me that.”

  “Sorry—baby.”

  “ Blake .”

  He shoved his key into the front door and kicked it open. “Isn’t this romantic? I’m crossing the threshold of my house with you in my arms.”

  “Stop or I’ll gag,” she said, holding tight to him. His scent surrounded her, dark spice and leather. This close, she could see flecks of gold and turquoise in his deep green eyes.

  “Not into romance?” he asked. “No, I guess not. Jack Johnson doesn’t strike me as the wine and roses type.”

  “That subject is getting old.” She glanced away, feeling a painful throb in her chest recalling Blake’s “newsflash” about her ex…the other women’s driveways….

  “Did he leave a bad taste in your mouth? I can remedy that.”

  You already have . “Let go of me—now.”

  Blake paused with one foot on the threshold. “Will you come inside?”

  “Are you going to be nice to me?”

  “How nice do you want me to be?” The comment dripped with sensual promise.

  “Oh, please. Get over yourself.”

  “I’ll leave that to you, since you did such a bang-up job the last time.”

  Ouch . Then again, Blake had done a fine job of moving on , too. After their fight and his distance, on the few occasions she came to pick up Robby at Blake’s house there were various women arriving on his doorstep. At least she had moved on to just one person. How many women had been in this house, in his bed?

  An ill feeling lodged in her stomach, until she reminded herself she hadn’t been anything special to him.

  Blake eased her out of his arms in the middle of his living room. “Have a seat.” He gestured to his wrap-around sofa that engulfed most of the living room, Thomasville furniture from their Hemingway collection. The dark wood contrasted with the mustard walls, emanating warmth, solidness and masculinity.

  Layla focused on stepping out of her heels, and wondered who was the owner of the lipstick tube she spotted on the side table. “Are you living with someone?”

  Why did that thought make her chest feel hollow?

  “Huh?” he said from the kitchen, rummaging through his cupboards while coffee percolated, filling the house with the aroma of hazelnut. “Oh, right. My brother. He comes back to Cleveland six months out of the year, but most of the time he’s in Phoenix, getting that leg of Desanto Landscaping up and running.”

  “You guys operate two businesses? It’s amazing you find time for all your women, who like to leave their lipstick on your table.” She walked toward the wide archway between the living room and kitchen.

  Blake’s hand stopped mid-pour. Setting the coffee pot back on the burner, he turned to the doorway, one eyebrow arched. “And just how many women do you presume I have? Is there a harem in my backyard I don’t know about?”

  “I wouldn’t be shocked.” She pointed at the evidence on the end table.

  Blake shrugged and went back to pouring. “Probably one of Tanner’s fans who dropped by and left a souvenir.”

  “Fans?”

  “Sure. You saw him tonight, performing at the Handle Bar.”

  No wonder he’d looked familiar. She slid Blake a sly glance. “You mean that hunk at the mic is related to you?” she asked doubtfully, knowing it would irk him.

  It worked. Blake scowled at her as he strode into the living room with two mugs of steaming coffee. She sat down and he parked himself on the couch beside her.

  “You remembered I drink it black?” Layla offered him a hesitant smile as she took a sip, enjoying the hot, nut-flavored liquid splashing down her throat.

  “I remember a lot of things.” The corners of his mouth slipped into a frown. “Like your face tonight when I met you on the road. What happened back there, Layla?”

  The mug trembled between her fingers. She set it on a coaster and shoved her hands in her lap. “I…I was just worried about Robby.”

  His eyebrows pulled together sympathetically, but a slight narrowing of his eyes told her he didn’t entirely believe that. “While we’re on the subject, I’ve been thinking.”

  “You said you knew where I could find him.”

  “Not exactly,” he clarified, “but I know where we can look.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Setting down his mug, he turned, and she assumed it was accidental when his knee brushed hers. “Bikers are generally a harmless group, but gangs are dangerous. You’re positive that’s what Rob’s note said?”

  She nodded. Drawing it out of her purse, she handed it to Blake to read.

  After scanning it, Blake sighed. “There is only one gang I know around here, but I can’t figure out how he hooked up with them. A few months back, I introduced him to a good friend of mine, Will Waller. He’s an undercover police officer. They seemed to hit it off, with a lot in common. Rob seemed totally psyched about going into law enforcement after spending time with him, like he’d found his calling.”

  “What?” Layla frowned. “He can’t stand cops.”

  “I wonder why,” he deadpanned.

  The rising heat of frustration filled her. “Stop with Jack, already.”

  “Johnson treated his dog with more respect than he did Rob.”

  Layla shot to her feet, the accusation hitting too close to the truth. “Did you invite me here to rub my face in my mistakes? Because I can do that without your help.” She snatched her purse off the coffee table.

  On his feet before she could bolt, he blocked her in. “Sit down.” His voice came out low and harsh, and a quiver ran through her knees. “I’m not finished.”

  Layla blinked. Her backside met the leather cushion.

  “Thank you. Now,” he said, joining her, “if Rob took off with this gang, there is only one place they’d be headed. Sturgis. It’s the biggest, most historic rally in the world, the Sturgis Black Hills Classic. I’m heading there tomorrow myself.” He took a deep breath. “I think you should come with me. We’ll look for him together.”

  Blake’s smile seemed forced, like he was bracing himself. As well he should. “Yeah, great idea, Blake. Because it worked so well the last time we tried that.”

  His expression hardened. “Why do I bother rebuilding this bridge we’ve burned a thousand times between us? You throw every attempt back in my face.”

  “Wow, that’s so big of you. Too little, too late, don’t you think?”

  “I think you need a man who knows what to do with that big attitude bottled up inside that hot little body.” His cool expression contrasted with the heat flaring in his eyes.

  Layla’s stomach slid low in her abdomen and her smile slid off her face. Then she shook free of the lust he inspired. Did he really believe one steamy pick-up line could erase their past? She let out a spurt of laughter. “And you think you’re him?”

  “
Give me a chance and I’ll prove it.”

  “You had your chance. You blew it. Game over.”

  “So you never thought about us again? Never wondered what it would’ve been like if we’d talked things through, worked things out?”

  She crossed her arms over her heart. “That has nothing to do with the reason I’m here—”

  “Because I have. I’ve thought about saying to hell with what happened in the past. I’ve pictured me and Rob working on our motorcycles in my garage, you coming up my driveway to get him after your restaurant shift. Your hair is in a loose ponytail, kind of mussed and sexy as hell. You’re too tired to be defensive. So when I say we should forget what happened and pull you into my arms, you don’t resist. You let me touch you the way I’ve wanted to since it ended between us. That’s what I imagine when I think about you, Layla.”

  “You…you do?” Confusion plagued her. Was he trying to distract her from his wrongs by reminder her how perfect their chemistry had been? How it had always felt so right when he touched her?

  “I think about kissing you.”

  His glance flicked to her lips and her mouth went dry.

  “I think about holding you…”

  His gaze traveled up and down her body and she felt her skin tingle all over.

  “…Making love to you.”

  He looked into her eyes, plumbed their depths as if he could see right into her soul. Desire pulled her tangled emotions into a tight knot inside her. “Blake, don’t.”

  “Just tell me, Layla. So I can put this to rest. I need to hear you say you haven’t thought about me once since last year.”

  She shifted uncomfortably, unable to look him in the eye. “Yes, I’ve thought about you,” she admitted, and a load lifted from her. Then she added, “That’s hardly relevant—”

  “It’s not?” Suddenly his arms came around her, holding her tight against him. His lips were a breath away from hers. “Not even now?”

  His mouth captured hers before she could answer. She flattened her hands against his chest to push him away. Somehow they curved around his shoulders instead.

  Liquid heat filled her veins. Her pulse became as erratic as her breathing.

  She tried to catch her breath and collect her thoughts. She should be concentrating on her brother’s rescue. But Blake blew through her defenses with his potent sensuality. Damn him.

  Of all the men in this world, why did Blake Desanto have to be the one who seeped into her veins and ignited her beyond reason or control?

  Blake kissed and sipped the moisture off her lips. He slid one arm around her waist and one hand into her hair. The silky feel mesmerized him. He sucked her tongue into his mouth, held it captive, teasing, flirting, easing into what he hoped would follow.

  Finally, he would pick up where they had left off a year ago. Every nerve ending sizzled with recognition that this was the woman who could ease the incurable ache inside him.

  Is this what it took? Would sleeping with her get her out of his system for good? God, he’d missed her.

  He heard a sigh catch in her throat. Her eyelids slid down, thick black lashes fanning her cheeks. He’d tried so hard to forget she was this beautiful.

  Battling with himself, he forced lust to override emotion. “I want you,” he said roughly, fastening his mouth over hers again before she denied him.

  How fast could he get her upstairs and into his bed? Mmm…not fast enough . He lifted the sides of her sexy red top so he could feel her bare skin beneath his fingertips.

  And he knew he couldn’t wait. Taking her here, on the couch, wasn’t his first choice. He’d rather have her in his bed, where he’d pictured her countless times. But the heat from her fingers as they trailed down his neck drove him to sensual madness.

  Until the back door crashed open.

  Breaking the kiss, Layla sprang out of his arms to the other side of the sectional. Blake’s nostrils flared, his arms spreading to grip the back of the couch. He stared hard at the ceiling, willing away the erection threatening to burst his button-fly. “I’m going to kill him,” Blake muttered, only half joking.

  Boisterous conversation echoed through his kitchen. A heavy thump was the sound of an amplifier hitting the floor. Alongside the thud of his brother’s boots he heard the click of high heels belonging to the blond suctioned to his side. Her boobs defied nature and gravity and gave away her profession. Tanner never did have much in the way of lofty standards. And actually, Blake admitted, for the past year neither had he.

  The realization made him frown. Mile-long legs, heavy makeup and a bodacious body seemed like a foolproof recovery, to bury himself in a fantasy, since he couldn’t have the naturally gorgeous reality of the woman he wanted. But buxom and willing lost its appeal ages ago, and he still wasn’t cured. Although he might have been, if his brother hadn’t barged in.

  “Tanner,” he called out, “didn’t you say you were out for the night?” By the end of the sentence, he spoke his words through his teeth.

  “Just came by to drop off—”

  Tanner froze, filling the doorframe. Sweeping a glance over Layla, who blushed to the tips of her ears, he swung his attention to Blake. His brother’s eyes glittered knowingly, a half-grin on his lips.

  “My bad, bro. I guess I won’t stick around here then.” His gaze moved to Layla again, and Blake recognized the look of appreciation. His hands clenched in a surge of irrational possessiveness. “Have a good one. Don’t do it anywhere I wouldn’t do it.”

  The blond on his arm erupted in ditsy giggles. Tanner nodded at Blake and shut the back door behind him on his way out.

  Blake gave a curt, two-finger wave and let his hand drop to his lap where Layla should be right now. His groin throbbed at the thought. With a sigh and a can’t-be-helped shrug, he said, “Now you’ve met the gigolo of 1428 Rosewood Street.”

  Layla looked at him askance. “He couldn’t possibly be worse than you.”

  “Hey, Desantos are a competitive breed. But Tanner’s long surpassed me.”

  “More like a breed apart. How charming. To think, I was stumped over why women lined up at your door.”

  His lashes lowered halfway. “Let me pick up where we left off. I’ll show you.”

  “Not a chance,” she scoffed. “You just caught me in an awkward moment and took advantage.”

  “Layla Farrell had a moment of weakness?”

  “I didn’t say weakness , and you’re changing the subject again. We are supposed to be talking about Robby. You can tease and flirt with me until I go out of my mind, but I will never be just another of your women. I made the mistake once, thinking I was different and there was more between us. How stupid could I be, right?”

  “You didn’t have enough faith in me to find out, did you?” If you had, you would know how much more you are to me . Maybe too much time had passed to salvage what they’d had. If he hadn’t been so stubborn and she hadn’t been so accusatory, things might’ve turned out differently between them. They had both put too much stock in being right, instead of trying to see things from the other’s point of view. It seemed nothing had changed. “Look,” he said on an exhale, “for once, we are actually on the same team. You need to find your brother, and I am the only way you’re going to do it.”

  “I’ll do just fine on my own.” Her eyes didn’t share her confident tone.

  “Is that right?” Blake folded his hands behind his head, amused. “You will single-handedly extract your brother from a motorcycle gang, with no car to get you to Sturgis and no clue how to find him once you get there? This I’d pay to see.”

  Not that he planned to let her get that far. He intended to take her with him as much for her protection as for the guarantee of her brother’s safety. Rob was like a little brother to him, too. The kid would need his help once they got there.

  Gratification stroked his ego when her glance flicked to his biceps, straining his T-shirt sleeves when he laced his fingers behind his head. Her pupils dilate
d a fraction. Not as immune as you want me to believe, are you, baby? Perfect. Seduction still a possibility, he could finally free himself from the hold she had on him.

  If nothing else, this trip would be interesting. Take two people who drive each other insane, who take turns wanting and hating each other, stick them on a motorcycle trip for four days, and see what happens.

  It sounded like they’d found the road to disaster. Or the highway to heaven.

  Layla slumped against the couch as though he’d stolen her thunder. She crossed her arms, refusing to look at him. “I hate it when you’re right.”

  “Excuse me? I don’t think I heard you correctly. Say that one more time.”

  “You are right,” she forced out. “I can’t do this without you.”

  “Don’t worry, Layla, I’m a guy. We don’t expect to hear those words from a woman more than once or twice a lifetime. Thanks for doing the honors. They sound all the sweeter coming from you.” His grin made her eyes flash.

  “And this trip sounds like my personal version of hell.”

  Layla stood and rushed past him, as if she expected him to take her captive like some pirate, throw her over his shoulder and march her up to his cabin to have his way with her. Maybe she knew him better than he thought.

  When he finally got her into bed, it would satisfy what had become insatiable desire. Only this time, he would keep his heart from getting tangled in the process.

  Blake followed Layla to the front door and watched her leave. Propping the screen open with his foot, he folded his arms and leaned against the textured stucco of his Tudor home. “So are you coming with me, or not?”

  “I’m thinking about it. I’ll call you later and let you know for sure.”

  “Tonight?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you even remember my number?”

  “Sure.” She shrugged. “Robby has you as number two on speed-dial.”

  “Huh. So was your speed-dial broken about this time last year?”