Welcome to Wardham: Contemporary Erotic Romance Bundle

by Zoe York

  “Constable Martinez, good to see you again, glad you could come out.” As Rick shook the stranger’s hand, Paul took in the comfortable leather loafers, quality dress pants and cream golf shirt that expertly disguised a slight paunch. Mr. Slick was about his age, maybe younger, and fancied himself a big fish in this little pond. Whatever his game, Paul wasn’t interested in playing.

  “Dale, I’d like to introduce Paul Reynolds.”

  Paul flipped through his mental rolodex. Dale. Ex-husband to Karen’s friend, the silly blond with two kids. How had this guy scored…? None of his business. “How d’ya do?”

  “I’d be better without all this ruckus, but it’s good to see something that the town can all band together about.” Dale put his hands on his hips and rocked back on his heels. “I tell ya, if we aren’t careful, Wardham will turn into another suburb of the city.”

  Nothing wrong with the city, Paul wanted to point out, but he understood where this man was coming from. His approach was all wrong—his public bluster earlier had lacked finesse, to say the least—but the sentiment of wanting to preserve the small town uniqueness probably started in the right place. “Good that so many people had a chance to say their piece tonight, then.”

  Dale frowned, like he was parsing Paul’s words for hidden meaning. Finding none, he shrugged. “Well, it was nice to meet you. If you’re ever in need of a new car, come see me at McCullough Ford. I like to give our boys in blue a good deal.”

  Rick bit back a laugh at Paul’s barely concealed eye roll as the third man drifted away. “Pretty much, man. He’s not a bad guy, just…”

  “No worries, I get it.” Paul wouldn’t have given Dale another thought, except he was making a beeline toward Karen. Paul didn’t follow, but his muscles twitched, ready to shift into gear if needed. But the salesman pulled up short, and both of them silently observed the woman from the grocery store chain tap Karen on the shoulder and say something perfunctory but pleasant.

  It took Paul three seconds to figure out that the women knew each other, and another few beats more to put two and two together. They’d met recently, and in a professional capacity. So far, their discussions had been positive, and both looked forward to talking further. A lot of that was filled in from what he knew of Karen from their previous conversations and his endless capacity to absorb Karen-isms, but some of it would translate to an average observer. The practiced smiles, the handshake. The rep’s eagerness. Karen’s reluctance to say much of anything.

  How much did Dale know about Karen’s secret hopes and dreams? Paul tensed and took a step away from the wall and into the room. He’d run interference without a second thought.

  She doesn’t want to be your problem.

  As he often told Megan…tough noogie.

  But before he needed to publicly stake a claim on a woman who was pretending to want nothing to do with him, Dale slowly turned and headed for the side door. At least for now, confusion reigned.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “You’ve dodged me long enough.”

  Evie laughed and moved to the back of the studio space to put away the exercise mats they’d just wiped down and rolled up. All of her Pilates gear lived in a beautiful wood armoire Evie had refinished herself.

  “Seriously, Evie, I need to live vicariously through you.”

  “Still not talking to Paul?”

  Karen shook her head. “It’s easier this way. Clean break and all that.”

  “It’s never easy. Just different variations on hard.” Evie took a deep breath and pulled herself up tall.

  “What do you mean? Are you regretting hooking up with that guy?”

  “Regret…would be too strong a word. Do you want a drink?” Her friend crossed to the front counter and pulled a pitcher of lemon and mint water from the bar fridge underneath. “It’s just…I don’t remember the whole night, for one thing, and how terribly irresponsible is that? I’m a mother, for goodness sake. And in order to have that night, I needed to take a train to a city four hours away. Plus, let’s not forget that I slept with someone still in college.”

  Karen choked on her drink. She set the cup down on the counter and waved her hands in the air for a minute before squeaking out her shocked response. “I’m sorry? I’m certainly not going to forget that now, but you did not share that information before.”

  Evie winced. “Right. I was going to keep that a secret. Stupid, rambling thoughts.”

  “Was he…legal?”

  “Karen Miller, seriously. I was slutty, not evil. He just finished a second degree, so he had to be twenty-three or twenty-four.”

  “You didn’t ask?”

  Evie blushed. “We didn’t do a ton of talking.”

  Karen leaned forward. “That sounds lovely. Tell me more.”

  They both laughed, but before Evie could launch into the naughty details, the door chime rang out. The first few participants for the next class were arriving, so Karen ducked to the back of the studio to grab her bag. Her cell rang as she reached her stuff, and she quickly ducked into the back room. Phones were off-limits, and she didn’t want to be banned by Evie.

  After convincing her mother that yet another conversation about the pros and cons of selling the store versus hiring a new full-time manager could probably wait until after she’d showered, she shoved her phone deep into her bag—first double checking to make sure it was on vibrate this time.

  From the front of the store, a raised male voice drew her attention. The senior citizen brigade weren’t the only ones who had joined Evie. Her ex-husband was leaning across the counter, earnestly talking about a sheaf of papers in his hand. Karen wanted nothing to do with Dale, so she hung back, but at the mention of the store, her ears perked up. At the words petition and stop, she was about to charge forward and truly get all “Hulk Smash” on Dale’s whiny ass, but as she stepped back into the studio space, she saw her friend hustling Dale the Douche out the door. A quick scan of the counter reassured her that whatever petition Dale was circulating hadn’t been left behind.

  Evie winced as Karen approached. “You heard?”

  “Not everything. Dale’s starting a petition about the store?”

  “I’m sure it won’t get anywhere. He’s being an idiot.”

  “This is my fault for not being totally transparent about the negotiations.” Karen felt her shoulders droop, and didn’t bother to square them off. She could feel a number of eyes on her, and just didn’t care. It wasn’t her store, or her problem. She just wanted to be a librarian. “I need a coffee. I need a break from this town, to be honest, but I guess a coffee will have to do.”

  She waved off Evie’s protests. She knew what her friend would say, and she wasn’t in the mood to be placated. At this rate, she’d be open to finding a tenant for her house sooner than later and heading to the nearest city at the first opportunity.

  The studio was down the street from Bun and her store. Not her store anymore. She needed to stop doing that. If no one cared about what was most important in her life, she needed to stop caring about the town and the store and everything else.

  People care.

  Not enough. Her parents still weren’t back. If they cared, they’d come and take these damn negotiations off her plate.

  Paul…damn him. Yeah, he cared, too much. And yet still, not enough to get over himself. Not enough to put her first. She had no idea how that could work, but surely it didn’t need to be this hard.

  Her friends cared, but they had their own shit to deal with. Evie just wasn’t political, and saying no to Dale was as much for herself as it was for Karen. Carrie…no way to tell how she’d fall. She certainly had never hesitated to tell Karen when she’d blundered in the past.

  She slowed down as Dale trundled out of the new craft store and head into Bun. Damn. Fine, she’d just make coffee at home. Never the same, but whatever.

  As she passed the bakery, she couldn’t help but glance inside, and instantly regretted the action because Carrie and Dale
were standing in the front of the store, right in front of the window.

  And Carrie was holding a couple of pieces of paper. Even worse, she was smiling and nodding.

  Keep going, Karen urged her feet, but even though her heart couldn’t take whatever this was going to be, the rest of her body was curious. She slowed to a stop and watched as Carrie smoothed her hand down Dale’s arm and moved to the espresso bar, setting the papers down. Definitely not kicking him out and telling him off.

  Bile rose up Karen’s throat as she tried to process what she was seeing. It’s something else, Carrie wouldn’t…

  Or maybe she would. Karen’s feelings weren’t sacrosanct. Business, both Carrie’s and the town’s, mattered.

  As if Karen had rung a bell, Carrie’s attention snapped to where she was standing on the sidewalk. She held her friend’s gaze for a moment, but it hurt too much and gave too little.

  Nothing good would come of making a scene. Karen sped home, waiting until she was behind her heavy wood door before letting the tears fall.

  She hadn’t made it far from that door when, a few hours later, it practically bounced under a quick succession of hard knocks. Too heavy to be Carrie. Sadness unfurled in Karen’s chest at the realization that she wanted it to be her friend. That it wasn’t. And another emotion twisted inside, as the strength of the knocking forewarned that it might be Paul.

  That would be Evie’s doing. Damn her.

  She braced her heart and wrenched open the door. “What are you doing here?”

  Instead of answering, he lifted two cups of coffee and stepped inside. He looked good. Damn him. And his gazed was filled with far too much understanding. She didn’t want the coffee, or his pity.

  “I don’t want it.” She sounded petulant and didn’t care.

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Not from Bun I don’t.”

  “Why do you think I’m here?”

  That made her pause. “I...I don’t know. Evie told you I was upset.”

  “It was Carrie, actually. She told me about the petition.”

  “Did she try to get you to sign it?” The words didn’t come out easily. She felt brittle and achy, loaded with fear. She didn’t really want an answer.

  He shook his head and set the coffee down with care. “Come here.”

  Before she could protest, he’d folded her against his body, tucking her head onto his shoulder. He was wearing a dress shirt, she noticed, as she stared at the pressed collar.

  “Why are you dressed up?” she mumbled into his neck.

  “Lawyers meeting this morning.” His breath was hot against her ear, and she wanted nothing more than to sag into him and let go, but that sounded important.

  She eased back, leaving her hands on his shoulders, and looked into his eyes. “Is everything okay?”

  He nodded. “Just the usual divorced parent stuff.” He placed his hand in the small of her back and steered her into her own living room. “You need to sit.”

  His voice was firm, but kind, and she thought she might just do anything he said in that moment, as he rubbed a small circle on her back, then slid his hand up to her shoulder and pressed her down to the couch.

  “Carrie’s not asking people to sign the petition,” he said as he retraced his steps to get the coffees. “She was just put on the spot.”

  “I saw her. She didn’t look put on the spot.”

  “Apparently Dale’s considering a run for town council.” And so was Carrie. Paul must have learned an awful lot about the politics of their wee town this afternoon.

  Karen leaned back against the cushions and closed her eyes. “Oh god, I just had a hissy fit, didn’t I?”

  Paul chuckled as he joined her on the couch. Even as embarrassment and fear dueled it out throughout most of her mind and body, she was still hyper aware of the heat of his thigh next to hers. The crispness of his shirt sleeve rubbing against the bare of her upper arm. His smell.

  “You’re wearing cologne.”

  “I am.”

  “You don’t usually wear any.”

  “You know that about me?”

  She froze on the spot, eyes still closed. But she could feel he was shifting as his arm lifted up and over her head, and without looking at him, she knew he was close. “Uhm. Yeah. You usually smell like soap.” She tried to stop there, but her mouth didn’t get the message. “And sweat. Not bad sweat, just the nice kind. Fresh, hard working. Honest sweat.”

  “You just said sweat three times.”

  She blinked her eyes open. She had to see the smile she heard in his voice, and that was a good call, because it was beautiful. A big curving acceptance of whatever gibberish spilled past her lips, a grin that reached all the way to his eyes.

  “It’s a good—”

  “I get it.” He covered her mouth with his in a chaste kiss, his lips just barely feathering over her skin.

  She sighed, and slid her hand over the short hair at the back of his head. This was a terrible idea, but she’d missed the feel of him so much. He pressed his lips harder against hers, but when she opened for him and darted her tongue out, part invitation, part tease, he pulled back.

  “I need to apologize for what happened when you met Susan.”

  She really didn’t want to talk about that. Ever, but definitely not at that moment. “It’s fine.”

  “It’s not even a little bit fine.” He rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. “I’ve missed you.”

  Behind her eyelids, hot pressure was building up. “Don’t,” she whispered. “Just kiss me and let’s pretend, just for this afternoon—”

  “I don’t want to pretend, Karen.” His voice was low and soothing, hypnotic. If she wasn’t careful, the walls around her heart would crumble before she even noticed. “I…I want to explain.”

  “No!” She gasped the word. “Please don’t.” She crawled into his lap and pressed hungry, needy little kisses over his jaw and down his neck as she reached for the buttons on his pressed shirt.

  His hands closed over hers and he tugged them into her lap. He choked out her name and tipped his forehead to lean against her chin. “That’s not a good idea.”

  She wanted to weep. It was the first thing that had felt right all day. Longer than that. For weeks, she’d been hollow. He’d given her a taste of being something special, and she wanted that again. She didn’t want nice words or kindness. She wanted what she’d never had before. To be irresistible. She wanted to make him want her like she wanted him.

  But she was in his lap. She could feel that he did. And even though she knew he would stop her again, she rocked against his erection, and at his stifled groan, she let the tears fall. It shouldn’t be this hard. Nothing like tears to turn a guy off, but when she went to scramble off his lap, he held her tight.

  “It shouldn’t be this hard.” This time, the words were whispered out loud. She needed to share the burden in her head, and as he nodded, his cheek rubbing against hers, the pain eased a little.

  “I know, darlin’. I wish it were different.” His voice was gruff and tight. “But I can’t do that.”

  She nodded blindly as he wiped the tears from her cheek, and after a minute of soaking up his warmth, she eased back to the couch.

  “You know this petition isn’t going to get any real air, right? Everyone gets that you need to move on.” She glanced up as his voice strained over the last two words. She wished she hadn’t. His face was tight and pinched. It made her want things that would never be. Whatever his reasons for staying locked up tight, she wasn’t going to sway him. “No one wants to hold you back from your dream.”

  “What to do with the store…it’s not even my decision, you know? I don’t know why I’m taking this so personally.” She laughed, but even to her own ears it sounded harsh and hollow. “I’m thirty-four, and I want my mommy and daddy to come home and fix my problems.”

  “They should come home and fix their own problems. They’ve depended on you for far too long.”

&n
bsp; Paul leaned back against the couch and stretched out his legs, a deliberate attempt to make himself chill out. He’d stopped at the coffee shop on his way home from the city and interrupted a heated discussion between Karen’s friends. As soon as they saw him, the blond one told the redhead that he was the perfect messenger of peace. If he hadn’t guessed they were talking about Karen, he would have high-tailed it in the other direction.

  Since they were talking about Karen, he pulled up a bar stool.

  And now he’d done the opposite of what he’d come here to do. He’d riled her up, and now he was insulting her parents, to whom she was probably inordinately close. He didn’t want to think about any of that. He wanted to haul her back onto his lap, strip off her clothes, and feast himself on her body.

  But that’s what old Paul would do. And he wouldn’t think twice about exposing his daughter to a short-term relationship that had no future.

  Not anymore. Not even if it killed him.

  But Karen didn’t know that. From the furtive side glances she kept giving him, it was clear he’d done yet another piss-poor job of explaining himself. Because now’s not the time. No. His task was to make Karen know she was wanted by the town. Not himself. That would just lead to further confusion and heartache. At this rate, probably his own, the irony of which wasn’t lost on him. Payback’s a bitch.

  “I talked to my mom this afternoon. They’ll be back in early July.”

  “Good.” Some of his tension seeped away, and he reached out to take her hand. Friends hold hands. That wasn’t why he wanted to touch her, but it was a reasonable excuse. “What I said before, about missing you. I really have.”

  She laced her fingers into his and offered a firm squeeze. “Yeah. Me, too.”

  “If something else like this happens, you text me, okay?”

  “Yeah?” Surprise danced across her face.

  “What are friends for?” The word stuck in his throat. He coughed. Man up. “You deserve to have someone in your corner. And that will always be me, got it?”

  “Sure.” Her smile was small, but genuine.