Plain Jane's Secret Life

Dylan planted his feet firmly beneath him and resisted the way she was practically pushing him away. “I also need a ride back to Holly Springs,” Dylan continued matter-of-factly.

Abruptly, Hannah stopped pushing. “I thought you followed me here,” she said with a frown.

Dylan examined her keys. “In a cab.”

Her pretty pine-green eyes radiated displeasure. “You can’t take a cab back?”

Dylan shrugged. “I’m out of cash. But that’s okay.” He leaned against the pillar at his back, prepared to do whatever it took. “Like I said, I can wait.”

Thwarted, Hannah gave up. “Wait here,” she commanded furiously as she stalked off, R. G. Yarborough in tow, and said something to him that he looked none too happy to be hearing.

There was another brief exchange. One that Yarborough seemed to be on the losing end of again, then Hannah headed back to Dylan, her strides long and sexy. “You’re turning out to be one royal pain today,” she told him as they headed toward the door, side by side. “You know that, don’t you?”

“So I’ll make it up to you,” Dylan drawled, wondering how it was that he could have known Hannah Reid as long as he had and never made a single pass at her.

“How?” Hannah snapped, giving him yet another hot, aggravated look.

Dylan reached past her to open the door. Still determined to find out what was going on with the former tomboy, he smiled at her gallantly. “I’ll buy you dinner.”

Chapter Two

Hannah stared at Dylan as they moved out onto the sidewalk. He appeared to be serious, anyway. Not that she would in any way consider this to be an invitation for a date. The men she knew from Holly Springs did not ask her out on dates. “When?” she said, still not sure what Dylan Hart was up to this evening.

He shot her another appreciative male glance. “Right now sounds good to me.”

Hannah ignored the unsettling way her senses stirred at his proximity. She stepped back a pace, then another. “We already ate at the reception.”

He stood, legs braced apart, arms folded in front of him. “That was more like a late lunch. Unless you’re used to eating the seniors’ special at 4:00 p.m.”

“Very funny.” She made a face at him, refusing to be charmed by his teasing.

“Come on,” he cajoled her, his hot gaze sliding over her from head to toe before returning with heart-stopping accuracy to her face. “I’m buying.”

Just looking at his handsome face made her heart race. She didn’t want to think about what it would be like to go on a date with him, never mind fantasize about what would happen at the end of the evening as they said good-night. Keeping her defenses up—and her thoughts at bay about being held against his tall strong body and kissed by those soft, sensual lips—she countered mildly, “I thought you didn’t have any cash.”

“I still have a credit card,” he murmured with easy familiarity.

Ignoring his steady, probing gaze, she continued walking away from him. “Some cab companies take credit cards.”

He waited until she swung around to face him again. “Then I’d miss our…date.”

So this was a date. “It’s ten-thirty on a Sunday night. Only the fast-food joints and the pancake houses are going to be open this late.”

He shrugged his broad shoulders lazily. “Sounds fine to me. Let’s go.” He gestured for her to lead the way to her vehicle.

Cantankerously, Hannah stayed right where she was. “I haven’t exactly agreed to go out with you yet.”

“Buying you something to eat is the least I can do after interrupting your ‘hustling’ back there.”

Hannah propped her hands on her waist, puzzled by the hint of derision in his low tone. “What is it you’ve got against me scrounging up a game of pool, anyway?” she inquired, refusing to be sidetracked by the dark woodsy scent of his aftershave. He had to know, from all the times she had played him and his brothers in Holly Springs, that she was bound to win.

Dylan raised his eyebrow. “Is that what you were doing?” he asked, his audacity unchecked.

As far as anyone else knew, yes it was. Although she couldn’t quite ignore the hint of innuendo in Dylan’s watchful gaze. “I wasn’t trying to date the guy, Dylan,” she explained dryly, continuing toward the minivan.

“Good, ’cause in case you didn’t notice,” Dylan continued, still observing her carefully as he fell into step beside her, “R. G. Yarborough is married.”

Hannah wasn’t surprised Dylan had noticed the wedding ring R. G. Yarborough had been wearing when she had approached him for a game, then ever so discreetly slipped into his pants pocket when he thought she wasn’t looking. Dylan noticed everything. Especially, apparently, the sleazy elements of her would-have-been companion for the duration of the evening. Not that Hannah intended to discuss with Dylan why it had been so important she hook up with the rich son of a gun, anyway.

“So?” Hannah kept her focus on Dylan as she unlocked the repair-shop minivan and slid open the back passenger door so he could get his clothes. “Last time I heard, it wasn’t against the law for married men to play pool.”

Dylan unzipped the bag and drew out a pair of jeans, a knit polo shirt, sweat socks and running shoes. He tossed the bag aside, then prepared to climb into the back. “Mind if I change?”

Yes, as a matter of fact, she did. “Wait till we get where we’re going to eat,” Hannah said, pretending she hadn’t been affected at all by his earlier quick-change artistry. “I’ve seen enough of your studly body for one day.”

Dylan flashed a surprisingly wicked grin. “Turned you on, huh?” he said, tossing his clothes down and climbing into the front-passenger seat inside.

If you only knew, Hannah thought. She was still burning from the glimpses of his handsome body. “You wish.” She threw the taunt over her shoulder as she circled around the front of the van and climbed behind the steering wheel.

Dylan relaxed in the passenger seat, looking debonair and sexy, and very much ready to take a woman to bed. Which was ridiculous given that generally speaking he didn’t even know she was alive, let alone a woman. Although you wouldn’t know it the way he kept glancing at the way her skirt was riding up over her thighs…

Shaking off the wistful transgression—the day she would get Dylan’s attention in that way was never going to come!—Hannah started up the vehicle and eased away from the curb. “So where do you want to go?” she asked in the most casual voice she could manage, wishing he didn’t still look and smell so good.

“There’s a drive-in root-beer stand en route back to Holly Springs. What do you say we stop there? That is if they take credit cards.” He looked worried.

“I think I can handle it even if they don’t,” Hannah said dryly. She might not be rolling in dough, but she made more than enough to handle her day-to-day expenses as well as anything she felt like doing after hours.

“If it’s cash only, I’ll pay you back tomorrow,” Dylan said, giving her another curiously analytical look.

“No problem,” Hannah said.

The silence strung out between them. “You don’t look happy,” Dylan said eventually.

Hannah released a long, irritated sigh. “Should I be?” Given that he had just interrupted a very important get-to-know-you session she had planned. Not that she could have continued her preplanned manipulation of events with Dylan standing there, watching every move she made, without revealing what she and Cal were trying to accomplish when it came to R. G. Yarborough.

“Are you disappointed that guy you were with tonight turned out to be married?”

Hannah blinked in surprise as Dylan favored her with a challenging half smile she found even more disturbing than his sudden interference in her life.

“You were flirting with him,” Dylan said.

Just as a means to an end, Hannah admitted to herself. But Dylan didn’t need to know about any of that. “He’s a little old for me. Don’t you think?”

“He still looked like he wanted to take you to bed.”

Hannah’s neck and shoulders drew tight as a bow. Be blunt, why don’t you? “And that surprises you?” Hannah asked coolly, flushing despite herself.

“That someone would want to take you to bed?”