He took a deep breath, let his cheeks fill with hot air and slowly let it out. Peyton laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“You are. Vicky told me about the little charade in the barn after I kissed you on the cheek. She claimed you kicked the barn door, ran your hand through your hair, bit your lip and cursed like hell.
“Did she now?” he felt his lips twitch as he fought a smile. “Your friend is trouble.”
“She said the same thing about you.” Peyton leaned over the console and propped her chin on her hand. “Kane?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you trouble?” With her index finger she ran the tip around the scoop of her neckline and then with the same finger, seconds later, she had it trailing up his thigh. His inner thigh. By the time he pulled off the road and safely made it into the emergency lane, her hand lingered mere inches from his balls.
He held her wrist against his leg as he reached over the steering wheel with his left hand and threw the gearshift into park. “Peyton.” He refused to hurt her feelings but he couldn’t play games here either. If they messed around like this, things might get complicated because he did like it rough, and the games he played were too dangerous for a woman like Peyton.
“Kane?”
“This can’t happen.”
“What can’t happen?” She batted her eyes and smiled.
“We can’t do this again.”
“We can’t go for a drive again?”
“No.”
“Why not? Do I tempt you so much you can’t stand to be in the same car with me?”
“Yes, you do.”
Hell! Why did he have to say it? He bit his lip and fell back against the headrest with his eyes closed. Damn it! He just said the wrong thing to the right girl, and he’d bet money on it. She’d run with it and consider him an open challenge.
Her hand stroked his leg then. “You might like me better than some of those ditzy broads you date.”
“I don’t date.” And he knew damn well he’d like her more. It provided enough reason to stay away from her as much as possible.
“Are you going to tell them you kissed me?”
“No, and you aren’t either.”
“Wanna bet?” She twisted her painted lips into a challenging smile.
“All right, that’s it.” He shifted and immediately saw the only disadvantage in Corvettes. For someone over six foot three, and two hundred pounds, the seats confined him. Good, he thought, she won’t get laid in this car. Braden probably thought the same thing when he bought it.
Peyton continued to bat her eyes and bent down for her purse, pretended uninterested in the pending conversation and pulled out some Dentyne. “Wanna a piece of gum?”
“No.”
“I’ve got some candy too. Wanna peppermint?”
“No.”
“Wanna pop my cherry?” She smiled deviously.
“No.” Yes! Hell yes! He blinked to be sure he heard her correctly. The first bead of sweat burned his brow. “What did you say?”
She laughed. “It’s a game.” She pulled out a hand-held device. It looked like a palm pilot.
“It’s called Cherry Popper.”
He let out a sigh of relief and shook his head. “Don’t tell me, the winner is the one who pops the most cherries.”
“You got it.”
“Great.”
“I bet you’re a big winner, aren’t you, Kane?”
He pulled back on the road and concentrated on the pavement in front of them. If she didn’t shut up about popping cherries, he was going to pop his zipper, and then Lord only knew what else he might snap. Oh yeah, he’d go for that cherry, if she still had it. If not, he’d look for a fuckin’ strawberry.
A few minutes later and they pulled through the gates of the ranch. Balloons decorated the gates and a sign with streamers directed the traffic expected. Her eyes immediately danced with excitement.
“A party?”
“Looks like it.”
“Are you serious? A real birthday party?”
“Good God Peyton, it’s a party. It’s not a car.” With a seventy-five thousand dollar price tag.
“You don’t understand,” she shouted excitedly as she jumped out catching the keys as he threw them to her, “I’ve never had a party before in my life!”
He stopped where he stood as she ran off toward the pool area. Her sweet little apple-bottom ass shifted back and forth as she hurried toward the noise.
He looked back at the car again. “Damn, that’s sweet.”
“Yeah, but it’s not as sweet as she is, now, is it?” Evan’s knowing eyes met his brothers as he walked out of the barn.
Instinctively, Kane ran his thumb over his lower lip, and for a second, he remembered how wholesome her lips tasted. He resisted the urge to tell Evan all about her hot little mouth. He didn’t want anyone to hear them and from the looks of things, they’d invited everyone in the county to the biggest celebration of the year.
Peyton Storm’s eighteenth birthday party.
“They look good enough to fry up for breakfast.” Vicky giggled as she sipped on her Shirley Temple drink. She dipped the two cherries in and out of the liquid.
Peyton eyed the long stems for a second and then glanced over at Kane. He watched those cherries too and once Peyton caught his eyes, he laughed and turned away.
“He likes you,” Vicky pointed out.
“Yeah, I know he does.”
Vicky pressed her friend for details immediately. “Did you do what I think you did while you two rode around town?”
“Hell no. I wish.”
“Still nothing?” Vicky probed.
“Nothing.”
Peyton smiled. For now, it was her secret. One shared private moment with Kane Cartwell.
“I don’t believe you.” Vicky laughed but her laughter soon dropped to a low grumble. “Oh…my…God.”
“What?”
Peyton turned around and caught a glimpse of Frank Sanders making his way around the patio area, working through the crowd with a bouquet of flowers. He definitely stood out with his gift in hand and his bright multi-colored shirt.
She glanced back to the Cartwell brothers. “They invited him?”
“Why wouldn’t they invite him?” Peyton snapped.
Vicky’s lips twitched. “For starters, you almost fucked him, and Evan almost broke his jaw for trying it.”
“I didn’t almost fuck him,” Peyton corrected. “We made out and they blew it out of portion.” She tilted her chin upward, in the direction of her guardians, as if Vicky had no idea who she meant.
“He asked Braden to take you to homecoming.” Vicky’s lips formed a tight line. “Braden and Evan said no, in case you’re interested.”
Peyton glanced at the Cartwells and then back at Frank. “I kind of thought so.”
“You knew?” Vicky asked.
“I guessed it when he asked Marcy Johnson to go, she must’ve been second runner-up.”
“Did you ask him about it?”
“Nope, not really. I don’t particularly care.”
“Guess you have your sights on someone else?” Vicky smiled and waved at the Cartwells.
Braden, goofy as ever, lifted his hand as if he started to wave back in much the same fashion.
Thank God he didn’t. Peyton would’ve died right there. He was too sexy for his own good but didn’t act it. Of course, Braden really wanted to do right by her. He promised her mother and since he spent the better part of ten years eating breakfast at the diner where she worked, they were tight friends. When Braden made promises to his friends, he kept them. Everyone in town admired him.
Frank walked over to her and handed her the flowers. “Happy birthday, Peyton.” He leaned in and started to kiss her.
Peyton’s hands flew to his chest. “My watch dogs are nearby.”
“Yeah, I see them. I can’t steal a birthday kiss?”
Peyton bit her lip and then thought what the hell. As an adult now, she could make her own choices. Surely they wouldn’t care. If they did, let them look the other way.