Page 100 of To Catch a Latte Thick as Thieves

“Let me up,” she snarled.

“No.” His jaw was set and the muscles in his cheeks were clenched into knots. He was breathing through his nose. Each breath widened his nostrils, and he reminded Cat of a bull about to charge. She gulped.

“Please let me up?” she asked in a softer tone of voice.

“No. We’re going to get one thing straight between us.”

“What’s that?”

“If you ever pull such a careless, boneheaded, stupid stunt again, I’ll ship you back to Massachusetts on the first bus, train, or plane I can find. I swear I will.” He lowered his head as he spoke, and Cat leaned away from him and deeper into the mud. It was cold and wet and did nothing to soothe her temper.

“Me?” she cried. “I’m careless? Boneheaded? Stupid? You’re the one who almost GOT RUN OVER!” She was incensed. Who did he think he was? She’d stopped taking orders from anyone but herself the minute she’d crossed the Massachusetts state line. And she’d be damned if this freeloading hitchhiker was going to start doling them out now.

“You could have been killed!” he shouted.

“Nope, that was you,” she argued. “I saved your life. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I didn’t need you to save me.” His right eye started to twitch.

“Really?” She reared up from the mud. “How do you think you were going to survive being run over by a truck?”

“I told you to stay in the van.” He leaned down until his face was just inches from hers. “I expect you to do what I tell you.”

“Well, you’re in for a mighty big disappointment,” she snarled, refusing to back down. “I don’t need your permission for anything. I do what I want when I want. Ha!”

“Really?” he roared. “So do I.”

Before she could take a breath, Jared gripped the back of her head with a muddy fist and captured her lips with his. At the hot, wet taste of his mouth, her anger sparked into something else entirely. Her fingers clutched at the front of his T-shirt trying to pull him in closer, but Jared released Cat as abruptly as he’d grabbed her.

His breath darted in and out of his lungs in quick gasps while he seemingly fought for control. Cat had no interest in control. Rising to her knees before him, she clasped his face between her hands. Their gazes collided, she knew hers was filled with heat while his held warning. She didn’t care a fig for his warning.

She let her lips hover just inches from his, slowly drawing him in, not allowing him to refuse participation in a dance that required two. Then she leaned in and teased his lips with sweetly tender, testing kisses. No heavier than the brush of a feather, she planned to wreak havoc with his senses, giving him no choice but to respond.

It worked. Jared encircled her waist with his hands, splaying his fingers across her back and pulling her tightly against him. Cat gasped.

He wasn’t playing. He held her still under the onslaught of his mouth. He probed, teased and nipped her swollen lips.

A keening moan sounded in the back of her throat. She felt his body respond immediately and she shifted against him, causing him to clutch her closer. Jared deepened their kiss as his hands roamed restlessly toward her breasts. She leaned in and he almost crossed the line, but a loud yell broke through their passionate haze.

“You folks all right down there?” An older couple stared down at them.

Jared and Cat broke apart like teenagers caught making out on the front porch. Still kneeling in the mud, they were covered in the dark brown muck from their hair to their shoes. Glancing at Jared through her lashes, Cat wasn’t sure if she was more embarrassed, relieved or frustrated.

As if sensing her confusion, Jared grinned at her. Tilting her chin up with a finger, he placed a swift, searing kiss on her mouth. “We’ll discuss this later.”

Pulling Cat to her feet, he led the way up the embankment toward the waiting spectators. Cat noticed that the deluge had dialed back to a strong mist, making their climb up the muddy hill a bit easier.

“We’re fine,” Jared answered the couple. “Just muddy.”

The man was tall and gaunt and sported a blue fishing cap festooned with a colorful barrage of lures. The woman was short and round, wearing a shiny purple raincoat and matching rain hat. Both were trimmed with silver rhinestones. If the sun came out, she’d be as blinding as a disco ball.

The woman elbowed the man in his ribs.

“I told you so,” she said. “They’re young and in love, probably on their honeymoon. The last thing they need is a couple of old fogies like us pestering them.”

“There you go again. Nag, nag, nag,” the man said. “It’s amazing I don’t drown myself while fishing just to get away from you...honeybunch.”

“You’d never be that thoughtful, pumpkin,” the woman retorted.

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