by Ivy James
If Ashley had planned on arguing, his slide silenced her. He looked up to see her on her butt trying to edge down toward him, concern apparent in her wide-eyed stare. Joe gripped the ladder and carefully swung himself around. He descended a few rungs, then waved to her to get on. Ashley glanced up at the sky, squared her shoulders.
The woman had guts, he’d give her that.
Thunder crashed again, loud and angry and directly over their heads. The very air around them shook. The ground, the house. The ladder.
His instincts went haywire, the hairs on the back of his neck lifted and stood on end. If he’d learned nothing else during his ten-year lockup, it was to pay attention when his gut spoke to him.
He took in his position, a little over halfway down, with Ashley above him and moving much too slow.
Without time to second-guess himself, Joe reached up and grabbed her ankle, yanked her foot off the rung and pulled her toward him as hard as he could. Her scream echoed against the house. Ashley’s body collided with his, and he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly as he kicked them both away from the metal ladder.
Chapter 5
SOMEWHERE ABOVE THEM a deafening crack erupted. Sparks flew and lighting zigzagged across the sky, everywhere at once. A streak hit the metal ladder and spread out in another jagged formation, striking at least one of the large willow trees directly behind them.
Joe landed on the rain-softened earth with a grunt, Ashley on top of him, and the ground beneath them rocked from the force of the blast. Dazed, near blinded, he saw stars thanks to the flash and sudden darkness.
“Oh, my—did you see that?” Ashley scrambled on top of him and squeezed out what little breath he still had in his lungs. Without a doubt tomorrow he’d feel every muscle and bone, but at least there would be a tomorrow.
He didn’t answer her. Couldn’t answer. Tried instead to catch his breath.
Finally, painfully, he managed to inhale and the smell of burnt wood and hot metal filled his lungs. He coughed weakly.
“Are you all right?”
Ashley’s hands flew to his face, angling it toward her. He registered the feel of her trembling fingers, ice cold and soft against his stubbled cheeks. Squinting he made out the fear marking her expression.
“Joe—Joe, say something.”
“Missy? You okay? Both of you get on in here before you get yourself killed!”
Wilson’s voice brought him out of the fog surrounding him, and Joe imagined the old man seeing them on the ground and trying to come to their aid on his walker. His metal walker.
“Joe?”
Inhaling as deep as his squashed lungs would allow, he groaned. “Get. Off.”
“Oh!”
Ashley shoved herself off his chest and nearly kneed him in the groin in the process. “I’m sorry! Oh, thank God. It’s a wonder I didn’t kill you landing on you like that. Are you okay? Can you move?”
Did he have to?
“Missy?”
“Answer him,” he urged roughly. “He’ll come out here if you don’t.”
Ashley looked over her shoulder and shouted toward the back door. “Wilson, go check on Max and—and find the flashlight before we lose power!”
Joe heard the old man order them to hurry, but thankfully the squeaky screen door remained closed. Ashley shifted beside him and pulled on him ineffectively until Joe gave in and rolled over. He got to his knees, only vaguely realizing Ashley had put his arm around her shoulders until his hand rested on the upper part of her full breast.
If only he felt like taking advantage of the moment. Joe growled out a curse and ignored his aches and pains as he got one foot under himself enough that, with Ashley’s help, he was able to stand.
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah. Let’s get inside.”
Rain poured down from the sky in driving bucketfuls. Limbs from the downed tree were in the way and they stumbled over them in the dark, the branches snagging the wet denim of his jeans. Near the porch, tiny, rapidly growing streams gushed beside the weedy flower beds.
Another boom of thunder erupted overhead. Louder, seemingly more angry than before. The wind picked up again.
“Joe, hurry. Here comes another one.”
Lightning streaked across the sky, but this time it didn’t come down near them.
“Geez, I hate storms.”
He acknowledged her comment with a grunt and gripped the porch rail, Ashley’s arm around his waist and her cheek pressed against his chest as they climbed.
On solid footing and getting more air into his lungs than he’d had since landing, Joe paused at the top step to rest and looked out at the yard. Another lightning strike illuminated the greenery and dark bark of the trees in sharp contrast with the pale, inner flesh of the one that had fallen, split in two.
“Oh, no. Not that one.”
He wouldn’t have heard her soft exclamation had he not been standing so close. Wouldn’t have seen the flicker of pain in her eyes at the sight of the destruction. To him the loss of the tree limbs would mean more work cleaning up the debris, but he wondered what the fallen willow meant to her.
“What else is going to go wrong today?”
Her voice broke on the words, and surprised at the emotional glimpse, Joe tightened his arm. He liked the feel of her. The soft yet solid way she leaned against him.
“Just so you know, I’m not crying over some stupid tree,” she muttered, her words proven false by a loud sniffle. “It’s just been a really, really sucky day.”
Strands of her hair stuck to the stubble on his chin as he nodded. “I understand. Shock will do that to you.”
Ashley nodded vigorously and her head bumped against his chest. “It’s just…I’d thought as soon as Max was big enough I’d put a rope swing in that tree, but now it’s gone like—like—”
Max’s father?
And Josie.
Joe loosened his hold and stepped away from her. He might acknowledge being desperately in need of a woman, but he had too much pride to be a stand-in for Ashley Cade’s dead husband.
Nor would he allow Ashley’s son to bring back memories of a life and time he’d never again have.
Beside him Ashley wrapped her arms around her narrow waist and hugged. “There’s still a big, thick branch over there,” she said with a nod of her head. “I guess that one would work. I won’t be able to look out the window over the sink and watch Max play, but maybe this is a sign I’m too overprotective in wanting to keep such a close eye on him.” She laughed sheepishly and sniffled again.
Joe looked at the second-best tree, his thoughts trapped by the past. Overprotective? Watching over a child and wanting to protect her from harm seemed like a natural part of being a parent. At least to him.
He shook his head to clear it, determinedly putting the past behind him yet again. “Count yourself lucky. Only one tree down, and the storm’s nearly over.”
A wry expression spread across her face as she glanced up at him. “We fell off the roof, Joe. I wouldn’t exactly call that lucky.”
He liked the way his name sounded on her lips. “We jumped off the ladder,” he countered, “and if we hadn’t, we’d be burnt to a crisp instead of arguing about it.” He pulled his gaze away from her upturned face, damp with rain and tears and much too revealing, and looked out at the yard again.
A rough laugh escaped her. He glanced down and saw Ashley’s eyes sparkle in the muted light of the stormy evening. The sight tempted him beyond measure.
A grin curved her lips as she laughed again.
“What?” he asked, wondering at her thoughts.
“Nothing, I’d just never have taken you for an optimist.”
An optimist?
“Even though you’re right. Things certainly could’ve been worse. There’s absolutely no way I would’ve listened if you’d simply told me to jump.”
Joe accepted her words with a nod and turned away, gingerly making his way to the door. He held
it open for Ashley to step through only to bump into her when she stopped abruptly on the threshold. She swung around and stared up at him, her hazel eyes wide and suspicious, and all traces of humor gone while she searched his face.
“You fell off the ladder.”
And he felt the results. “Yeah. So did you.”
His next inhalation brought with it a whiff of musky woman, rain-soaked earth and shampoo. The tantalizing scent teased his body to instant awareness despite his aches and pains. She was so natural in her looks and appearance. The kind of woman a man wouldn’t mess up when he made love to her.
He wiped a hand over his face. Get a grip!
Bite Me was written across her front—or rather plastered across her breasts. Joe smothered a groan and forced himself to stare at the tiny freckle on her right cheek, Wilson’s voice in his head telling him to mind his manners.
Ashley widened her stance and frowned at him. “Yeah, but—you’re not going to sue me are you?”
“Now, missy, what kind of question is that to be askin’?”
Ashley exhaled in a rush and her face darkened with color. She turned toward Wilson and glared, but the old man simply glared right back.
“You shouldn’t insult a man like that.”
“It’s a legitimate question,” she argued softly. “Considering he fell off the roof—my roof.”
“We didn’t fall off the roof.”
“You fell?” Wilson asked.
Joe shook his head and sidestepped around Ashley to lean against the cabinets and ease the strain on his aching body. “I jumped off the ladder and took her with me to keep us from getting struck by lightning.”
Wilson’s eyes widened. “You mean when that big one hit and got the tree you two were still up there? I thought you were in the garage! It’s a wonder you didn’t get yourselves killed!”
“We’re fine, Wilson. But I want Joe to answer my question.”
The old man went back to scowling. “Now, missy, ain’t I taught you nothin’ since you got to town? You don’t go askin’ a good man if he’s gonna sue you. It ain’t right.”
“He fell off my roof! What if he’d been injured? Does he have insurance? Is he bonded?” She swung to face him. “Are you?”
“No.”
“Oh, no.” She moaned and shoved tendrils of wet hair out of her face. “The books said—”
“Those books don’t know everything. They don’t talk about the good people, just the crooked ones. Stop worryin’. Joe ain’t gonna sue you.”
She swung around, arms wide as she faced Wilson. “How do you know that? If you live in the country is there some other set of rules? If so, you people need to make a handbook and clue us outsiders in.”
Joe chuckled. He couldn’t help himself. The sight of Ashley in her foot-stomping upset arguing with someone so similar and like-minded as his father was entertaining to say the least.
“It’s the same set of rules everywhere, people’s just forgotten ’em.” Wilson lifted his walker and dropped it to the floor again as if to emphasize his point. “Too sue-happy these days. Wastin’ everyone’s time and taxpayers’ money.”
Sensing no end to the argument, Joe cleared his throat. “I’m not suing anyone,” he stated firmly. “I jumped, I’m not hurt and even if I was hurt I wouldn’t sue.” Ashley turned to face him and he stared into her intriguing eyes. He liked the way her pupils were ringed with deep amber flecks, the hazel cast more golden than brown.
“You gave me a job,” he continued, softening his tone when he saw her glance into the living room where Max slept. “I took it and the potential problems that came with it. Besides, I doubt there are very many roofers out there who haven’t fallen off a roof or ladder at some point in time in their career. It’s part of the job.”
Wilson grunted. “See?”
Thunder boomed and the house rattled. Ashley jumped in response, and then turned toward the living room with a deep sigh. “I’ve got to check on Max. I should’ve already.”
“The boy’s fine. He’s so tuckered out he’s slept through the whole storm. Even the big boom.”
“Looks like another one’s getting ready to roll through,” Joe murmured after glancing out the door to keep from seeing Ashley’s worry for her son etched across her features. He knew that kind of worry, that kind of fear, wanting to make everything okay for them, no matter how small the problem.
Lightning streaked across the sky, miles away but fierce.
“Were you hurt, missy?”
“No, I’m fine, but I can only imagine how awful Joe feels. I landed on top of him,” she admitted with a wince.
Wilson’s bushy brows rose. Outside, thunder snapped, lightning flashed and the light above their heads dimmed, then came back on. The wind picked up outside once again.
“Oh, great. Looks like we’re going to lose power after all. I’d better change and get dinner started while I can.” Ashley glanced in his direction, her frown deepening. “Thank you, Joe. I’m sorry if I offended you by asking—”
“No problem.”
She nodded. “Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital? See a doctor?”
“I’m fine,” he murmured. “After a good night’s sleep I’ll be ready to go again. No problem.”
The relieved smile she flashed him took his breath away, and he told himself to stop being a fool. She’d smiled because she hadn’t lost her cheap labor. Nothing more.
Ashley turned and hurried up the stairs between the living room doorway and hall, and unable to help himself, Joe watched the sway of her hips as she climbed, her rain-soaked jeans making the sight lethal.
“Yup, I’d say havin’ her fall on top would have any young man ready to go.”
Joe’s dumbfounded gaze jerked to Wilson’s, and heat crawled up his neck when he noted the old man’s censure.
“But don’t be abusin’ our hospitality and takin’ advantage, Joe. Ashley acts tough on the outside but inside she’s soft. Takes stuff to heart and tries not to show it. Don’t be messin’ with her like you did Hal’s girl. Otherwise, you’ll be answering to me. Got that, boy?”
* * *
ASHLEY DIDN’T REALIZE she hadn’t shown Joe to his room until she’d stripped down for the second time that day. She groaned at the thought, sucked in her stomach and fastened the shorts at her waist. She’d never lost all the pregnancy weight and her clothes were tighter than she liked. But she was as determined to lose the extra pounds as she was to complete the renovations on her house, and those cost money she didn’t have to spend on clothes she could breathe in.
She gathered up her wet jeans and T-shirt and tossed the items over the shower rod along with the others, shaking her head at the growing mound.
She left her bedroom and trudged down the back stairs to the kitchen, her feet dragging as she thought of the weeks and months of nonstop work ahead.
You wanted this, remember?
But when would she have time to put herself out there? Make friends so Max would have friends? She’d budgeted carefully and had enough cash to see her through the repairs, but little else. If she couldn’t open before the tourist-vacation season began when everyone traipsed through the little town on their way south to beaches and overcrowded resort parks, she’d be forced to take an outside job. And that left her without daycare. Who would watch Max all day every day? Wilson couldn’t handle Max on his own for long.
Distracted, she turned and ran into Joe. Or rather, into Joe’s damp shirt that was presently molded to the incredibly wide, warm chest she’d discovered as she’d helped him onto the porch.
“Sorry, I—didn’t see you.”
How she could miss him was anybody’s guess though.
Joe’s rough hands were gentle as they gripped her upper arms to steady her, and Ashley stared up into his dark blue eyes, surprised at the sensations coursing through her. And not so surprised at all.
A deep, secret part of her wanted Joe to pull her to his chest and hold her,
just for a second. One big, comforting hug that would mean nothing and yet allow her to regroup after such a trying day, month. Year.
But of course that couldn’t happen. Not if she wanted to maintain a professional relationship.
“No problem.”
She wet her suddenly dry lips. “I forgot to show you to your room.”
“I changed in the utility room.”
She forced her thoughts back to reality. “It is a problem. I left you standing in the kitchen after you jumped off the roof to—” His words caught up with her and she sputtered to a confused halt. “You changed?” she asked, eyeing his shirt again.
Somewhat sheepish, Joe indicated a duffel bag lying on the rug by the utility room door. “I forgot and left it on the porch earlier when I saw your kitchen flooding. My clothes are a little damp, but better than what I had on.”
“You must be cold.”
“Not quite.”
The muttered comment brought her attention to his face and she froze at the masculine gleam she saw in his eyes. No, he didn’t look cold. He looked hot. Very hot. Heat emanated from his body so much so his damp clothes ought to have steam rising from them the way he stared at her.
A tingle shot through her and Ashley suddenly realized she hadn’t stepped away from him. Joe still held her, his thumbs lightly smoothing over the tender insides of her arms. Back and forth, slowly.
Swallowing, she stepped away, acutely aware of him as he looked her over from her head down to her bare feet. Her toes curled against the wide plank floors and she wished she’d taken some time recently to paint her toenails. At least treat herself to a professional haircut instead of saving money by trimming the ends herself.
Guilt niggled again. Why did she care what he thought?
“Missy, you back?” Wilson entered the kitchen from the living room. “Max is stirrin’ around. I’m gonna show Joe where I put his daddy’s things, but it won’t take long. You fixed that chicken you bought the other day?”
She laughed wryly. “You know I haven’t.” Ashley headed toward the refrigerator. “One fried chicken, coming up—and chocolate pudding for dessert.”