Whisper Falls Read online

  Tessa pressed her hand down over her friend’s to calm her. “No, it’s nothing like that—he didn’t do anything to me. In fact . . . that’s the whole problem.”

  Rachel blinked, looking confused. “Wait, I thought you told me about wanting him just to get it off your chest—not because you really . . . want him.”

  Tessa pursed her lips, then admitted, “Yeah, well, getting it off my chest wasn’t enough. And last weekend, he nearly kissed me, but then he stopped. And then there was the time I lost my balance and fell against him and he had an erection, and . . . half the time he’s sexy and nice, and the other half he’s quiet and withdrawn—and today I asked him to go skydiving with me and he said yes, but I don’t think I can wait for that.”

  Rachel just looked at her like she wasn’t making sense and Tessa realized her friend was right: She was crazed. Officially. She grabbed onto Rachel’s wrist. “See, this is what happens when a woman in the prime of her life goes this long without sex. She loses her mind.”

  Rachel held up her hands in a stop motion. “Wait—I’m trying to sort this out. What the hell does skydiving have to do with sex?”

  Tessa tried to sort it out, too. “Well, they’re both about . . . living. Feeling life.”

  “So you think skydiving will make you feel the same thing sex does?” Understandably, Rachel squinted her confusion. “Because I’ve never gone skydiving, but, uh . . .”

  “No,” Tessa said, exasperated—by the situation, not Rachel. “Skydiving is just . . . an extreme substitute. But I didn’t call you here to talk about skydiving. I called you here to talk about Lucky.”

  Rachel nodded, eyes still wide, probably from the rapid pace of the conversation. “Okay—what about him? Exactly.”

  Tessa swallowed and tried to spit out the idea she’d come up with. She knew what she wanted to do—she knew it with clarity—and she wasn’t going to let Rachel, or her own fears, stop her any longer. “I want to seduce him.”

  Just then, Mabel—the elderly waitress who seemed to be at Dolly’s around the clock—slapped two menus down in front of them. “What can I get you girls to drink?”

  “Two iced teas,” Rachel said quickly, taking the liberty of ordering for them both, and the second Mabel ambled away, she turned back to Tessa. “Seduce him how?” And, of course, she looked very worried.

  “Is Mike working tomorrow night?” Tessa asked.

  “No—he’s having a guys’ night with Logan and Adam. Why?”

  “Will he be out late?”

  “Probably.”

  A rush of adrenaline shot through Tessa’s body. This meant that maybe, just maybe, she could really go through with this. “Good—then you can come with me. Because I can’t do it without you.”

  Rachel already looked apprehensive. “Come where?”

  “To Gravediggers, the biker bar in Crestview—where Lucky hangs out.”

  “Huh?”

  Tessa rushed ahead, trying to win Rachel over before she refused. “We can be biker chicks for a night! Doesn’t that sound fun?” She raised her eyebrows and smiled.

  While Rachel just sat there, mouth gaping. “On what planet?”

  “Think of it like Halloween,” Tessa suggested cheerfully. “You used to love dressing up for Halloween. This will be like that—only . . . in springtime.”

  “Are you out of your mind?” Rachel asked.

  Tessa answered matter-of-factly. “I thought we’d already established that. But I’m also a desperate woman.”

  “Well, yes, you sound desperate. I’m not convinced you’re thinking clearly here. So snap out of it.”

  That’s when Mabel—suddenly Miss Speedy—chose to show up with two glasses of tea and her order pad. “What’ll ya have?”

  Neither of them had cracked a menu, but they came to Dolly’s often enough to know the offerings by heart. Both placed their orders briskly, eager to get back to the matter at hand. And as soon as the waitress departed, Tessa said to Rachel, “I am thinking clearly, trust me. Just imagine how you’d feel if you hadn’t had sex in so long. And for all of Lucky’s flaws, Rach, I really believe he’s a perfectly okay guy.” I think.

  But Rachel still looked uncertain. “So why do I have to be dragged into this?”

  “Do you really want me to go sashaying into Gravediggers by myself?” Tessa tried to look extremely innocent and vulnerable.

  “That’s a low move,” Rachel informed her.

  “And it’s not like I’m gonna get Amy to go.”

  Rachel nodded. “She’d probably pee her pants at the very suggestion.”

  “And you’re worldly. You know how to handle yourself.”

  “True,” Rachel said smugly, and Tessa saw the tide beginning to turn her way.

  “And furthermore, this would be a perfect opportunity for you to check out Lucky.”

  “Well,” Rachel admitted, “I am curious to meet the guy. Both for your sake and Mike’s.” Yet then, just when Tessa thought it was in the bag, Rachel’s gaze narrowed. “But why do we have to go to Gravediggers of all blemishes on the landscape?”

  Tessa pursed her lips. “Because I know he’s attracted to me, too—I know it with every molecule of my body,” she insisted. “But there’s something keeping him from pursuing it, and I really don’t think my fragile ego could take it if I made a move on him and he rejected me. So my plan is—make myself irresistible to him, make it so he can’t stop himself from making a move. And I figure the quickest way to a biker’s heart is to become a biker babe. I just need to show him how hot I can be, how daring. Once he sees me in biker chick mode, he’ll have to have me. So what do you say? Can I count on you? Will you do this one little thing for me? Are we on for Gravediggers tomorrow night?”

  Rachel looked completely uneasy, and totally torn. “Mike will kill me,” she said.

  “He’ll never have to know.”

  She spoke through clenched teeth. “But we have this honesty thing going—remember?”

  “And like before—this isn’t about you and him, it’s about me. And I need you, Rachel. I need you to come through for me on this. Will you do that? Will you come through for your dear old friend, Tessa, who desperately needs some passion in her life?”

  Rachel sighed. “Oh hell,” she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes. “Fine. I’ll go.”

  I have a right to get pleasure out of life:

  and I will get it, cost what it may . . .

  Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

  Eight

  As Tessa stood before her mirror, preparing to go to Gravediggers, her stomach churned. Maybe this idea was “out there,” but she was ready for out there, ready to do whatever it took to get Lucky in bed. And it was hard to be so daring, but the last few years had taught her she could survive a lot of things she wouldn’t have thought she could, so she told herself now that this was just another one of those things. And a better one of those things. Which would hopefully reap grand, orgasmic rewards.

  She couldn’t help thinking she made a pretty good biker chick. She wore a lace-trimmed white cami with a lacy red bra underneath—and though, normally, she’d never pair clothing like that, tonight was about being daring. Below, she’d put on a short denim miniskirt she’d picked up at a thrift store to wear to an eighties theme party back in college, and the same black boots she’d worn with Lucky on their motorcycle ride.

  Of course, if this didn’t produce the desired result, she’d feel humiliated. She was pretty much laying it all on the line with Lucky—when she walked in there tonight, he’d know why. And if he didn’t respond . . . well, she’d just have to act like she had a secret yearning to be a biker chick or something. Even so, it seemed a better risk to take than kissing him and maybe being pushed away. And besides, this was kind of like skydiving—it felt like grabbing life boldly by the horns.

  Just as she was applying makeup, trying to give her eyes that smoky, sexy look, a knock came on the door. A moment later, she opened it to find Rache
l on the other side in dark jeans, a red tank, and strappy red heels. Even in biker babe wear, her friend appeared long, lean, and sophisticated.

  As she gave Tessa a once-over, though, she looked slightly aghast.

  “What?” Tessa asked.

  “You look . . .”

  “Like a sexy biker girl?” Tessa asked hopefully, batting her eyelashes.

  “Um, actually . . . a little like a prostitute.”

  Tessa refused to be daunted, however. “No, this is biker chick chic, trust me.”

  “But your bra is showing,” Rachel informed her critically.

  Tessa just rolled her eyes. “Where have you been, Rachel? Everybody’s bra is showing these days.”

  “Not in Destiny,” Rachel pointed out.

  “Then it’s a good thing we’re going to Crestview.”

  “So,” Rachel said, stepping inside, “we’re really doing this, huh? Because we could always change clothes and catch a movie at the Ambassador instead.”

  Tessa simply flashed a dry look. “I’m pretty sure catching a movie at the Ambassador won’t result in sex for me—so no.” She would not be deterred at this point—her bra was showing, for heaven’s sake; she’d come too far to turn back.

  But Rachel still looked doubtful. “I just feel bad doing this behind Mike’s back.”

  “Then call his cell phone and tell him where you’re going. Blame it on me. Say I wouldn’t take no for an answer. Because I won’t.”

  Yet Rachel shook her head. “No, he would forbid it. And, of course, that would piss me off and then I’d have to do it. And besides, the guys are drinking beer and playing pool at the Dew Drop Inn, and Mike doesn’t get cell reception there half the time anyway.”

  “If you’d go no matter what he says,” Tessa asked, grabbing up her purse and starting to turn off a few lights, “then what’s the problem?”

  “The problem is that if he finds out, I might no longer be engaged. And I like being engaged to Mike.”

  “Because you get to have great sex all the time.”

  Rachel crossed her arms. “That’s not the only reason.”

  “But it’s certainly one ingredient—don’t deny it. An ingredient I’d like to have in my life, too—you know?”

  Rachel shrugged in concession. “I have gotten quite used to it. And I guess I’ve also gotten used to being totally honest with him, so even though I’m not really doing anything wrong, that’s why this feels weird.”

  “See, you really have turned into the female Mike Romo, walking the straight and narrow all the time.” Tessa actually saw Rachel’s point, but she knew this would get to her.

  And it did. Rachel narrowed her gaze on Tessa. “Quit saying that.”

  “Then quit proving it true.”

  Rachel sighed. “Fine. We’re going. I hope you appreciate this.”

  Lucky sat on his usual bar stool, shooting the bull with Duke when he wasn’t occupied with other customers. Saturday nights were busy, but it was early yet at Gravediggers, where the real action didn’t start until around midnight, and Duke wasn’t the only one tending bar tonight—a young, heavily tattooed and pierced guy named Rocker was handling the bulk of the work.

  Lucky had told Duke about Red’s visit, and now he said, “So what do you think, man? Is it time to let go of all that old worry, once and for all? Is it crazy to live your whole damn life looking over your shoulder, no matter how long the view’s been clear? Or am I just . . . seeing this through rose-colored glasses?”

  Duke wiped down the bar—Lucky had observed in the time he’d been home that this was what Duke did when he was thinking something through. So Lucky took a drink from the longneck before him and waited patiently as the din of music and talk blared around him. Finally, Duke said, “It’s my fault the way things ended up that night.” And it was the last thing Lucky expected to hear. Especially since Duke seldom brought up the grim events that had sent them running from the Devil’s Assassins.

  And he wasn’t exactly sure why Duke was bringing it up, but his friend wasn’t making sense. “Dude, what the hell are you talking about?”

  Duke narrowed his eyes. “I could have ended it quicker. I could have had my ear to the ground better and known it was coming. We could have been ready for it. So I’ve . . . always felt kinda responsible. And . . . shit, man, maybe I’ve made us both fucking paranoid because of it.”

  Lucky just balked, taken aback. “Duke, you got it all wrong. I’m the one at fault.” How could Duke not see that? Hell, Duke had always been protective of him in ways—and it made him feel all the more guilty. “I never wanted you to have to pay for the trouble I caused. And you have paid, just as much as me.”

  Duke spoke low, quick. “Doesn’t matter who did what, brother. We were in that shit together, same way we still are.” Then he resumed wiping down the bar, even though it was already spotless. “Either way, what I’m thinking is this. Even though I’m still watching my back and yours every second—hell, maybe it is a waste of time. Not sure I know how to stop looking over my shoulder, but maybe it’d be smarter to just . . . live like normal.”

  Lucky felt his eyebrows knit, then shared his recent revelation. “Guess maybe I already have, in a way. I mean, I came here, where my family is. I’m getting ready to be a dad. If I felt, in my gut, like it wasn’t safe for them, I’d still be in Wisconsin, right?”

  Duke shrugged. “I thought the same thing when you packed up and moved home. But . . .” He paused then, wiped down the bar some more. “But it’s different with your family than with a woman.”

  “Yeah,” Lucky reluctantly agreed. Because of what had happened between him and Vicki, and after that. But he decided to shake that off. “Still, it’s been ten years. Ten years and not one fucking peep out of those guys.”

  Duke met Lucky’s gaze. “Maybe you should just let yourself do what you want for a change, compadre. Maybe you should just go for it, and screw my paranoia.”

  Lucky grinned, then restated an old favorite line of theirs. “You know what they say—it’s only paranoia if they’re not really out to get ya.”

  Just then, Duke looked up, toward the front door, and murmured, “Interesting.”

  “Shit—don’t tell me Red’s back.”

  “No, it’s not Red. Far from it. Just a couple of hot babes I’ve never seen before. Wonder where they came from. And which one of ’em wants to go home with me tonight.”

  And when Lucky turned to look—damn. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He even blinked to make sure they weren’t playing tricks on him. Then he said to Duke, “Make it the blonde. Because the other one is Tessa.”

  “You’re shittin’ me,” Duke said.

  “Nope.” Both of them kept watching as the two women made their way through the milling crowd—though Tessa, looking shockingly hot in a way he hadn’t known she could, looked straight ahead and let the blonde lead the way.

  When finally Tessa looked up and their eyes met, he gave her a smile, not trying to hide his surprise at seeing her here. “What’s up, hot stuff?” he asked when she reached the bar.

  Her own smile appeared more shy than usual. “I told you I might show up sometime.”

  “Guess I didn’t take you seriously,” he admitted.

  “Maybe you should.”

  “Maybe I should,” he agreed. At the moment, though, he barely knew where to focus his attention: on the two curves of scalloped red lace peeking above her low-cut top, on her delectably short skirt, or on the eyes that appeared warmer, darker, in this lighting. As nice as the rest of her was to look at, he settled on her eyes and watched as she bit her soft lower lip—and felt it in his groin.

  And that’s when he understood. Why she was here. Why she was dressed so much . . . like the rest of the women here. She was making a play, showing him she wanted him. Which he pretty much already understood, but . . . hell, this took things a big step further.

  Because he knew this wasn’t a typical night out for his hot little neighb
or. She was . . . putting herself out there for him, trying to . . . fit into his world. He’d never been so flattered in his life, and though he’d liked her a lot already, in that moment he began to realize . . . just how remarkable she really was.

  And he also realized . . . how selfish he’d been with her, in a way.

  Yeah, he’d been looking out for her by pushing aside his attraction, but the fact that she’d do this, come here for him like this, made him understand that despite good intentions, he hadn’t taken the time to think much about her feelings, about the fact that maybe his resistance had been just as hard on her as it had on him.

  “What can I get you ladies to drink?” Duke asked, drawing both women’s attention his way.

  And maybe that was good, since at the moment, Lucky couldn’t keep his eyes from drifting down over Tessa’s sumptuous body and . . . damn, she looked fine. Of course, it didn’t hurt that he was getting to see completely new parts of her and learn new things about her—like that she owned a sexy red bra. Which she’d worn tonight for him. His chest tightened and he suffered the instant urge it take off her.

  “Don’t suppose a girl can get a glass of wine here?” Tessa asked Duke across the bar.

  And Duke chuckled deeply. “Afraid not. We got beer and hard liquor, darlin’.”

  Tessa could scarcely believe she was pulling this off. Of course, she’d never been so glad to see Lucky before, given that it had felt like every biker in the place was ogling them when they’d walked in. And she sensed him giving her a solid once-over right now, too—but when he did it, it felt like a good thing, not a bad one. As for what to drink, her Crohn’s even dictated what beverages she could consume, so she thought for a minute and said, “How about a Cape Cod?”

  The goateed guy behind the bar in a muscle shirt looked doubtful. “Afraid you’ll have to help me out on that one.”

  That’s when the other bartender, sporting more inked skin than un-inked, came sliding over to say, “Cranberry juice and vodka,” then winked at Tessa. “Right?”