“I’m working a story.” He scraped a hand down his face. “Everything’s fine.”
Staying in Rockton another day upset him. The most obvious reason would be something concerning his family or friends. She would love to learn more, but she could see it wouldn’t be wise to press him with more questions.
“We’ve never stopped in Rockton before.” Word of their arrival had buzzed around the town with superhero speed. At one point, over thirty people had lined up outside the Med Mobile, melting beneath the midday sun. This pharmacy had a connected grocery store. Deke had used his own money to buy several cartons of water. Then he’d straightened up the staff RV and invited some of the sicker and more heat-susceptible patients inside. His obvious care for the patients made his reaction all the more puzzling. “Lisa’s incapable of ignoring such need.”
He blew out a breath. “Which is why she’s the perfect person to lead the tour.” The tension lines between his brows disappeared. “Where did the two of you meet?”
“Through one of my instructors at UNC. I need clinic hours for graduate school, and Lisa needed a minion.”
“So you’re off to graduate school in the fall?”
“Yep. I hope to be a nurse practitioner, like Lisa.”
“The two of you are a good team.”
“She’s great.” She glanced toward Lisa’s bedroom door. “I worry, though.”
“Why?”
“Her headaches. They’ve been more frequent and more intense.”
“Has she seen doctor?”
“Not that I know of. She thinks it’s stress.”
“The answer to all unknown evils.”
Exhaustion moved through Evie’s body, draining her strength. She yawned. “Well, I think that does it for me, too.” She hiked up onto one elbow. “If ever you’d like to discuss whatever’s bothering you about staying in Rockton, I’m a good listener.”
“Hit the light, Evie.”
Disappointment pinched her chest. She wanted to be there for him, give him reassurance or whatever he needed. But “back off” blazed in his luminous eyes.
“My offer still stands, even after you’re done being a turd.” A split second before she clicked the light off, Deke whipped off his T-shirt, revealing a ripped set of abs.
Her thumb slid off the switch, her mind and fingers disconnecting. One screamed, “Turn the light off!” The other fired back, “Stop—are you crazy?”
She shot Deke a look.
He lifted a brow. “Everything okay?”
Squeezing her eyes shut, she grappled for the switch and cast them into darkness.
The exhaustion numbing her muscles disappeared with one eye-popping glimpse of Deke Conrad’s torso. How could she sleep with that image seared into her mind’s eye? With all that raw testosterone lounging only four feet away?
What she wouldn’t give to trace her fingers over the sculpted planes of his chest, the hard ridges of his abdomen, the tempting hairline trailing down beneath the sheet…
She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, following the shadowed lines from left to right, right to left, left to right, right to left. The mattress beneath her hardened into a slab of concrete—cold and unyielding. Lonely.
Turning onto her side, away from Deke, she prayed for Lisa’s drugged oblivion. It didn’t come. Finally, she gave up. “Deke?”
“Yeah?” he answered without an ounce of sleep in his voice.
“Would you please put your shirt back on?”
Silence blared through the RV.
“Are you serious?”
Lifting her head, she glanced over her shoulder to answer.
Big mistake.
Enough light from the lampposts filtered between the closed shades to illuminate his chest and face. He’d raised up on his elbows, the sheet pooled at his waist. Michelangelo or Giambologna would memorialize that body in marble, if they were alive.
Need swirled like a warm breeze between her legs. No other man had ever captured her attention like Deke. Lord knew she’d tried to find someone to sever his hold on her. But his grip was tight. Bone deep.
Her head dropped back to the pillow, and she slapped a hand against her forehead. “You’re distracting me from sleep.”
“Am I?” Humor edged his words.
“Not funny.”
She heard rustling, then her bed dipped. Heat raced into every pore of her body. Lifting her hand, she found Deke looming over her. Torso bare. A roguish smile molding his lips.
Glancing at Lisa’s door, she asked, “What are you doing?”
“Distracting you from sleep.”
Closing her eyes against the sting of humiliation, she said, “I can’t joke about this, Deke. Not this.”
Her breath caught when a hand appeared at her shoulder. He shifted closer, his hip nudging hers. Heat from his body flowed into hers, flaming every nerve, every pulse point.
“I adore your honesty, Evie.” The backs of his fingers caressed her cheek. “It’s refreshing and makes me smile.”
She didn’t know where to put her hands. With all that naked flesh hovering over her, she knew where they itched to be.
What was he up to? Only yesterday, he’d made it clear that their age gap would prevent them from getting together. Now, his big bare body stretched above hers like a lover’s.
His scent filled her nose and his heat… Oh, Lord, she wanted to burrow into his heat. But she wouldn’t make the first move toward intimacy until she knew what he was about tonight.
The question still remained—what should she do with her damn hands? At her sides seemed too stiff. Off the bed seemed too weird. Across her chest seemed too angelic. Giving up, she allowed them to fall where they may. To her relief, they folded naturally against her shoulders.
“Enough to kiss me?” How’s that for honesty?
“One would never be enough.”
“I’m not opposed to a few more.”
His grin deepened. “You give my control too much credit.”
“Shouldn’t you have your sling on?”
“Yes, Dr. Steele.”
“Why don’t you?”
“Because I’m a lousy patient.”
She traced the edge of the taped gauze. “Does it still hurt?”
“Only when I cheat and use my arm.”
Emboldened, she continued her exploration. Her fingertips caressed the ridge of his wide, smooth shoulders and thick biceps. An electric current sizzled beneath her touch, and her breaths became sharper, her legs restless. If she continued to touch him, she would make the mistake of wanting more. More than he was willing to give. Her fingers curled.
“Why are you here, Deke?” she asked in an aching whisper.
His eyes squeezed shut and his jaw hardened. “Breaking a promise. Screwing up a friendship.”
“Never.”
When he looked at her again, his eyes glowed in the dim light. “Touch me, again.”
Surprise kept her immobile.
“Please.”
The torment in his one-word plea sliced through her paralysis.
“Your wound?”
“Under control.”
Afraid he’d change his mind, she smoothed her fingertips over his dark eyebrows and curved over his sculpted cheekbones. His eyes closed again, though not to fight some internal battle. Ecstasy deepened his breathing and relaxed his features.
She moved down his throat and onto his back, her touch deepening, seeking.
Lifting his head, his neck arched and a low moan rumbled through his chest.
Her splayed hands dipped into the hollow of his lower back and crept up the rise of his bottom, pausing at the waistband of his pajamas.
Desire lay heavy in his eyes as he lowered his gaze to hers. “Yes,” he breathed, moving fully onto the bed, one leg nestled between both of hers.
Muscles deep in her womb clenched, forcing her legs together and her lips apart. Her harsh breaths mingled with his as her nails tunneled beneath
his pajamas and scraped over his rounded ass.
She squeezed and massaged and caressed and pressed her center against his erection. This time, she groaned. Sought. Got lost in the moment.
Hungry lips covered hers, throwing Evie’s body into a cauldron of desire. She gripped his scalp with both hands and angled her head for a more perfect fit.
His tongue slid into her mouth and curled around hers with an erotic thoroughness that made her head whirl and mind go blank. Instinct fueled by desperation took over.
With the backs of her fingers, she brushed over his hard nipples, enjoying his sharp inhalation at her touch. Her mouth watered for one taste, though they couldn’t risk the noise of positioning and repositioning their bodies. So she toyed with the sensitive peaks until his head dropped into the crook of her neck, his labored breaths beating against her chest.
She slid her hand lower, and his muscles locked. His chest stopped rising. Taking that as a good sign, she didn’t halt her downward momentum, though she did slow her progress.
Beneath his pajamas, heat scorched her flesh. His musky scent reached her nose. She took his mouth as her hand wrapped around his cock. Dear God, the size of him, the weight of him, the heat of him.
“Evie,” he whispered against her mouth. “Sweet Evie.”
Increasing the pressure of her grip, she slid down his length, then back up.
“This is wrong,” he said through unsteady breaths.
“I can’t think of anything that has felt more right.”
She continued her ministrations, using their confinement to her advantage, pressing his hardness against her clit. Their breaths grew harder. Sweat slicked their skin. His back arched, her inner muscles contracted. Their cries of release were silent but no less explosive.
For a full minute, neither of them moved, as if they both feared a single twitch could shatter the ethereal world their lovemaking had created.
Tears pricked Evie’s eyes. She’d waited so long for this moment, so long to create a deeper, more intimate connection with this man.
Deke’s finger traced over her nose, making her smile. He kissed her forehead and rose.
Her eyes shot open, fear rising into her throat.
He shucked off his pajamas before slipping beneath her covers.
“Lisa?” she whispered.
“I’ll be gone before she wakes.” He wrapped his good arm around her, drawing her close. “Trust me.”
She peered into his drowsy eyes. “Gone from my bed, or…me?”
“Never you, Evie. Never you.” He coaxed her head onto his chest. “Sleep now. We’ll figure us out later.”
Though her body molded to his, hours passed before the worry gave over to sleep.
11
Crushing guilt ate at Deke like a festering wound destroying his flesh one cell at a time.
He couldn’t do anything by half measures. Instead of a straight-on frontal attack by his conscience for having broken his promise so easily, so fucking quickly, he also got slammed from behind for enjoying his fall.
Disentangling himself from Evie before dawn had been the hardest act of his life. At some point during the night, she’d lost her T-shirt and shorts. Having all that sweet, trusting warmth cuddled against him had been worth the sharp, burning ache in his injured shoulder.
For nearly an hour, he’d lain awake, listening to the rain and fighting an almost overpowering need to sink balls deep into her. He’d grown so hard and heavy that he hurt from lack of release.
Ripping away from her, he’d thrown on his clothes from the day before and left his beautiful temptation naked and untouched. The long walk in the rain had helped, but it hadn’t taken the edge off. He was afraid only one person could right him again.
He slid a pen beneath the metal clamp of the clipboard, waiting for more patients to arrive. He’d been using pockets of downtime to check in with Keone. So far, he hadn’t gathered much intelligence to convey to his second-in-command. The boy with the bear claw had been his most significant discovery, which wasn’t all that impressive.
Two cars crept into the parking lot followed by a pickup with a rusted-out fender. Deke hovered near the Med Mobile, waiting to see who would reach him first.
An older woman with a head full of gray hair that grazed her shoulders, rail-thin body that disappeared in profile, and razor-sharp backbone that had the stamp of military exited an ancient Oldsmobile. The Taurus next to her swarmed with a disconcerting amount of small bodies and high-pitched screams.
The pickup backed into a stall, away from the other vehicles, a masculine silhouette its only occupant. Deke waited for the driver to emerge. He didn’t. A plume of smoke crawled out the window and dissipated in the breeze.
The image reminded him of similar sighting at Haden’s Hollow. Now that he thought about it, the bearded man hadn’t approached the Med Mobile then either. Had he dropped someone off and waited in the truck? Had he been killing time? Waiting for a friend? Or had he been observing someone? Him?
Setting the clipboards down, he started for the truck. He got to within twenty feet of his quarry before the truck’s engine roared to life and the guy sped away.
“What’d you want with Frank Cleamer?” the old woman asked when Deke returned.
Deke filed the name away. “Thought he might be shy about coming up to the Med Mobile.”
She snorted. “That boy doesn’t have a shy bone in that skinny little body.”
He refrained from giving her toothpick-frame a once-over. “Why’d he take off?”
“You storming across the lot probably spooked him.”
“I’m not that scary.”
“Bobby, watch for cars! Willie, stop trying to trip your little brother.”
The family from the Taurus had spilled into the lot and the hive had dispersed in all directions. Deke tore his gaze away from the harassed mother back to the gray-haired spitfire who was eyeing him from head to toe.
“You could be one of those comic book characters what’s on TV nowadays.”
“The good guys aren’t scary.”
“But the villains are.”
Deke smiled. “I’m going to have to warn the ladies that they have a handful coming their way.”
“I’m not here as a patient.”
“No? What can I do for you, then?”
“Our rainy night has given way to a beautiful day, and some folks from town have put together an impromptu get-together. As thanks for stopping here and fixing our sick, for nothing more than a thank-you, we’d like y’all to join us for a nice BBQ dinner tonight.”
Shit.
He’d already come across a second cousin on his Mama’s side, this morning. No doubt Sally had already told her mama about sighting the gov cuz, and Aunt Gertie’s curiosity would’ve been piqued enough to ring up her sister.
If they’d left yesterday as planned, he could’ve avoided his family’s looks of betrayal and questions he couldn’t answer. But they hadn’t left, and the Southern boy in him could never turn down genuine hospitality.
“That’s real kind of you, but we never know when we’ll finish up. We’d hate to keep y’all waiting.”
“It’s nothing fancy. City Hall gave us the Roundhouse pavilion for free, and most everything will be simmering in crock pots. Come when you’re able.”
“I’ll speak to the ladies, but I doubt they’ll refuse a home-cooked meal. We’ll do our best to make it there by seven-thirty. How’s that sound?”
“Whenever. I’ve got nothing better to do these days than wait for death. It’ll do my heart good to keep an eye out for a full-bodied bourbon, like you.”
He bent down to kiss the woman’s cheek. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Rita Sampson.”
“See you tonight, Mrs. Sampson.”
“Rita. Never did like my husband, not even when he was alive. Now I’m stuck with the old goat’s name.”
She marched back to her vehicle and drove off. In many ways, she
reminded him of his own tough-as-nails grandma. He missed her. Besides his mom and sister Dara, she’d been the only other one who’d been upset by his dad’s ultimatum. Dylan had seemed unhappy about the situation at first, but his calls had dwindled to a semiannual come-bail-me-out-of-trouble.
If his cousin Sally hadn’t managed to stir up enough interest about his presence, Rita’s BBQ would finish it off. Nobody passed up a potluck in these parts. Except for his dad. The old man wasn’t much for social gatherings on a good day. If he got wind his traitorous son would be in attendance, he’d for sure avoid the event. And where Mitch Conrad didn’t go, his wife Iris didn’t go.
A cannon-sized head plowed into his stomach, the impact knocking him off his feet and onto his back.
“Willie! I told you to stop tripping your brother.” The woman from the Taurus kneeled beside him, a crusty-nosed infant in her arms. “Are you all right, sir?”
The Med Mobile door swung open, and Evie appeared, concern emblazoned her features. In one big sweep of her intelligent blue eyes, she assessed the situation. Concern faded to amusement.
He rolled to a sitting position, which put him eye-to-eye with the towhead who had rammed into him. Fear made the boy’s eyes as big as baseballs. Not so with his older brother. The unrepentant Willie snickered behind his grimy, nail-bitten hand.
Ruffling the younger boy’s blond head, he said, “I’m fine.”
“Tell the man you’re sorry, Bobby,” the boy’s mother said.
“Sorry, sir.”
“Willie,” she prompted.
The older boy stared at him a full five seconds before murmuring something under his breath. Could have been an apology, or a demand for Deke to go to hell. He couldn’t be sure.
“Apology accepted.” He got to his feet, and Bobby’s eyes grew wide as he tilted his head back and back and back to take in his victim’s full height. “Why don’t you two be good boys and do your mama a favor by sitting down?”
The youngest scrambled over to the row of bag chairs Deke had set out to create an outdoor waiting room area. Willie crossed his arms.
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