Shelter Me

by Allyson Charles

  “It’s none of your business.” The spunk in her voice made him smile.

  He rested his elbow on the table. “Tell me anyway.” He ignored her glare. He knew he was too assertive for some people. Always had been. He didn’t understand those who wouldn’t speak up for what they wanted. But it was nice being with someone who didn’t wilt under his assholery. Who could stand up for herself and didn’t make him feel like a bully.

  And damn he wanted to know who was in her place, smoking inside when she’d asked him to leave, putting those circles under her eyes.

  Placing her palms flat on the table, Sarah took a deep breath, her breasts rising beneath her silky blue top. She took another breath, releasing it slowly.

  James was happy to watch. “Are you doing some sort of meditation?”

  “Yes.” The silk scraped against her curves, and he could just make out the lines of her bra. “I counted to ten so I wouldn’t leap over this table and strangle you. It wasn’t enough so I’m counting to a hundred.”

  “Don’t restrain yourself for my sake,” he said.

  She closed her eyes, and muttered something under her breath.

  “What was that?” James leaned over the table, eager to hear if she broke down and used real swear words when she was angry. Which led him to wonder if she talked dirty in bed. And was trying to get her in bed back on the table? Had the idea ever left his mind? Yes, she was more complicated, more earnest, than a fling had a right to be, but she might be worth it.

  Her shoulders rounded. “My father is staying with me,” she said, her voice low.

  He cocked his head. Why the big secret? “Doesn’t your brother, the angry one, stay with him? Is he at your place, too? Was there a problem at his house?”

  “Not that father.” There went her breasts, heaving against the slippery silk again. James almost lost the trail of the conversation. “My biological father. Brad and I were adopted by our dad.”

  “Oh.” Scratching his jaw, he turned that over. It was another complication in her life. Another mess, and he hated messes. He had enough of his own. “So you have a good relationship with both dads?”

  “I don’t know yet.” She rested her chin in her hand, leaning onto the table, closing the distance between them. If he was so inclined, he could reach out and brush the hair off her cheek.

  “I contacted my bio dad a couple weeks ago. It was the first time we’d talked since he left us when I was five.” She traced a knot on the picnic table.

  He inched his hand closer to hers. “And you wanted to meet him?” He shook his head. “I have enough problems with my one dad. I don’t know why you’d want to have two.”

  “He’s a part of me.” She shrugged. “I want to get to know him.”

  “How’s that going?”

  She shrugged again.

  The father couldn’t be what she’d been hoping for if she was looking like this. And what kind of POS left his kids? “What about your brother? How’s he taking your dad’s reappearance?”

  “Well…” She scratched her thumbnail across the knot. “Brad might not exactly know that Harry is in town. In fact, no one knows, so you have to keep your mouth shut.” She glared at him in a stern warning.

  “Are you telling me that a man you haven’t seen in twenty years—”

  “Closer to thirty. Jeez, how young do you think I am?”

  “—a virtual stranger, is staying with you in your house and none of your family knows about it? About him?” Heat crept up the back of his neck.

  She jabbed her finger at him. “He’s not a stranger. He’s my dad.”

  He grabbed her finger and pulled her farther over the table until they were nose to nose. “The man has already shown a decided lack of character. You have no idea what he might do.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes. “I’m his daughter. He wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “Christ.” His temperature spiked higher. The phrase every murder victim probably said before her death. He took his own deep breath, trying to control his irritation. Her safety was her own business. Absolutely none of his.

  He should tell Bradley. Have him stake out Sarah’s house so James wouldn’t have to.

  “You think fathers can’t hurt their daughters?” Or their sons. But all of James’s wounds were psychological. An asshole staying with Sarah could lead to more than just mental pain. “Family is an artificial construct. It means nothing.”

  Her jaw dropped. “How can you say that?”

  He shrugged. “Easily. You’re not the only one whose father took off when you were a kid. I still got the occasional birthday card or Christmas present, but Oswald wasn’t a factor in my life.” And leaving James with his train wreck of a mother had been unforgiveable.

  “I’m sure he tried the best he could.” Sarah covered his hand with hers, her heat somehow both comforting and irritating. “Parents make mistakes, like everyone. It doesn’t have to mean they don’t care for us.”

  “You’re ready to forgive that easily?” He shook his head. “You really are as naïve as you look, aren’t you?”

  “You’re here, taking care of your father.” She cocked her head. “You must care about him.”

  “It’s my duty. Caring has nothing to do with it.”

  Sarah gathered her binder, taking her hand off of his. Taking away her heat. She stood. “I feel sorry for you. and your dad. My family is the most important thing to me. You’re missing out on so much.”

  “You feel sorry for me.” He climbed to his feet and stepped around the table. He grinded his teeth. For his father? Like Oswald deserved a better son than he was? “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “And you don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “Apparently I’m missing another chance to get abandoned by a sperm donor.” Sarah’s mouth dropped open in shock, but he pushed on. “Missing a chance to get used by someone who’s already shown he doesn’t give a damn about you. I’m not missing much.”

  “You—” She raised her hand to jab her finger at him, forgetting the binder she was holding. It slipped from her grip and hit the dirt, spilling papers in a wide semi-circle.

  She dropped to her knees. “Rats,” she muttered.

  Kneeling, he helped gather her papers. “Again, if you used the rings in the binder properly, this…”

  Her iron-tipped gaze withered the words on his tongue.

  “Never mind.” He reached around her, slapping his hand on a sheet starting to blow away.

  “My Secretary of State form!” Sarah scrabbled over his arm, stretching for the government document.

  “Wait.” Her weight pulled him off-balance. He fell onto his elbow, his butt sticking up at an awkward angle. “If you’ll just—gah!”

  They toppled over, his body pancaking hers into the ground.

  He did a push up, lifting his weight. “Shit. Are you okay?”

  She wiggled to her back, waving the form. “Got it.”

  He huffed out a laugh. Even completely disorganized and driving him crazy, Sarah was adorable.

  And lying beneath him.

  Smiling up at him.

  His stomach tightened. His arms seemed to lower his body of their own accord.

  Sarah’s eyes fluttered half-closed. Her breath came fast against his lips.

  Any thoughts of this being a bad idea flew from his head. The lingering scent of cigarettes was ignored. He craved her. Needed to know how she tasted, how she felt beneath his lips.

  So he kissed her.

  He brushed his mouth across hers, keeping the contact featherlight. Her lips were as soft as a pillow, inviting him to dive in.

  He raised his head, liking the flush high on her cheeks. “You okay with this?”

  She blinked. Instead of a direct answer, all she said was, “Oh my.”

  Good enough for him. He slanted his head and went back for a better taste.

  ****

  His
kiss was as direct as the man himself. Firm lips pressed against hers. He nipped at her bottom lip before sliding his tongue inside her mouth. The kiss was deep, greedy, and completely lacking in subtlety. A man wanting her and showing it.

  She loved it.

  She didn’t have to worry about giving James what he wanted. Didn’t have to worry about taking care of his needs. He took care of himself.

  He suckled her tongue before scraping his teeth over it, drawing a whimper from her.

  And so far he seemed awfully good at taking care of her needs, too.

  He cupped the back of her neck, deepening the kiss, slowing it down. Trailing his free hand up her side, he brushed against the underside of her breast. He rubbed his thumb over her nipple, the touch surprisingly gentle, and an arc of sensation jolted through her body.

  She hooked her heel over his leg, rocking into him. He groaned, deep and low, the sound making her smile. She felt like a temptress. Like someone wild and sexy instead of plain Sarah Martineau, the boring sibling. The sibling who always made sure her brothers and sister had sunscreen and life vests when they went rafting. That Conner had food in his fridge when he came back from working a forest fire. That Ellie had enough money to make rent.

  Wild and sexy Sarah cared about herself.

  She ran her palms over the hard contour of his pecs, wishing there wasn’t a layer of cotton between his skin and hers.

  They broke apart, gasping for air. His eyes, a blue as deep as the ocean, stared into hers, and satisfaction pooled low in her gut at the dumbfounded look that clouded them. It was heady business bringing strong men to their knees. Despite her size, with James she felt powerful. No, not just powerful, but empowered. Able to show a part of herself she usually kept hidden. To stand up for herself instead of always being the peacekeeper.

  After all, she didn’t have to worry about saying or doing the wrong thing, sending him packing. He was already going to leave. She was free to be herself, and whatever happened wouldn’t be her fault.

  She ran her fingers through his dark hair, A touch of gray at the temples only made him sexier.

  She just had to make sure not to get attached.

  A dog barked, and Sarah jerked. Mr. Marshall toddled into the clearing, a cane in one hand and Ginger’s leash in the other.

  Cheeks flaming, she pushed at James’s shoulders. “Get off,” she whispered.

  “Wha—?” James blinked.

  “Off! Your dad,” she said, pointing at the older man, “is…” Flushing bright red and staring at the ground. She sighed. He’d already seen them.

  “Sorry.” Mr. Marshall rubbed the back of his neck. “I was just taking Ginger for a walk.”

  Ginger tugged at the leash, and Mr. Marshall let it go. The dog darted to James’s side, licking his cheek then going in for Sarah’s.

  James grabbed the dog’s collar and pulled her off of Sarah before climbing to his feet. He held out a hand and pulled Sarah to hers. “Where’s Taina?” he asked his father.

  Mr. Marshall shrugged. “I can go for a walk on my own.”

  A muscle ticked in James’s jaw. “No, in fact you can’t. That’s why I’ve put my life on hold to come up to this crappy town. Because you’re having trouble walking without falling over or remembering your way home.”

  Sarah narrowed her eyes. She didn’t know if it was the insult to her hometown or the disrespectful way he talked to his father that offended her more. Yes, she didn’t know the issues between them, but Mr. Marshall was a sweet old man. James needed to give him a chance, for both their sakes.

  Mr. Marshall patted his thigh, and James released the leash so the dog could trot back to her dad. “You helped me after my surgery, boy, and I’m grateful. But I’m fine now. You can go back home whenever you want.” With a nod to Sarah, the older man turned and shuffled back along the path towards Main Street, chin raised.

  Sarah’s chest squeezed. She pinched James’s arm.

  “Hey!” He clutched his biceps and leaned away from her. “What the hell?”

  “Did you have to be such a jerk? What is wrong with you?” Had she liked his bluntness just moments ago? His determined lips and talented tongue had made her forget why he irritated her so much.

  His nostrils flared. “Respect is something that’s earned, not handed out like candy to someone just because he shares your DNA. The same goes for trust. Don’t you think you’re being a bit foolish letting a stranger stay in your house just because he forgot to wear a condom with your mom?”

  Sarah picked up her binder and shoved all the papers inside. “Don’t tell me how to treat my bio dad.”

  “Right back at you.”

  They glared at each other for a long minute. He might have a point. If she wanted him to stay out of her business, she should stay out of his. But damn if she was going to let him know that.

  James blew out a breath, scraping his hand through his hair. “Fine. Détente. You don’t judge how I treat my father, and I won’t tell you you’re an idiot for inviting a stranger into your home. Deal?”

  She grumbled. Only James could make a peace treaty sound like an insult. But his goal wasn’t wrong. She stuck out a hand. “Deal.”

  He clasped it, sweeping his index finger along the crease of her inner wrist.

  She shivered. Even the smallest touch from this man could do that to her.

  He reeled her in close. “We still have a lot of work to do on your shelter.”

  “We do?” Sarah’s voice was too breathy by half, and she cleared her throat. “I thought you were out of that,” she said more firmly.

  “Oh I think I’m in it now, don’t you?”

  She sucked on her bottom lip. He was all kinds of wrong. Pushy, when she liked to go with the flow. Hated the town she loved. He didn’t care about family, and that last one was a screaming red warning flag if ever she saw one.

  But she wasn’t marrying the guy. This was temporary. And she wanted to feel his lips against hers again. She wanted that, and more.

  A family of four, the two young kids running ahead, rounded the bend in the path. The father carried a picnic basket in one hand, and his woman’s hand in the other. They headed for the empty table.

  Sarah stepped back. James might make her feel wild and crazy, but she didn’t want any more witnesses to their hanky-panky. His father had been bad enough. “I should go.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I should catch up with my dad. Make sure he gets home all right.” His jaw hardened. “But you and me. Dinner. Tomorrow night.”

  “Is that an invitation or an order?” She narrowed her eyes. “And think carefully before you answer. A certain part of your anatomy will care very much how I respond if your answer is wrong.”

  His lips twitched before extending into a full-fledged grin.

  Sarah’s lungs stalled. His smile was beautiful, made more so because of its rarity. It was wide, holding a hint of mischief, and invited her to join him in his joy.

  “You aren’t what I expected, Dr. Martineau.” He shook his head. With a glance over his shoulder, he said, “You can take your best shot anytime, Sarah. But as a doctor, I expect you to kiss whatever injury you inflict and make it better.”

  She made a show of rolling her eyes before turning and stomping away.

  But inside, she knew, that was something she was more than willing to do.

  Chapter Ten

  Gravel crunched, and Sarah hurried to her front window and pulled the curtain aside. Brad’s dented blue pick-up truck pulled to a stop in front of her house.

  She eased the door shut behind her and navigated the porch steps in her heels. “Brad. What are you doing here?”

  Stepping from the cab of his truck, Brad took a moment to stretch his bad leg. “Dad wanted me to bring this over.” He held up a plastic encased kit of some kind. “He said last time he was over he noticed a phantom flush.” He glanced curiously at the sedan parked next to her
car. “You have a visitor?”

  Son of a beehive. She’d wanted to tell Brad about their bio dad, but now wasn’t the time. “Just a friend.” Wobbling to the truck, she grabbed the kit. “Thanks. I’ll install it tomorrow.” Whatever it was.

  Brad raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to install a new pump assembly in your toilet?”

  That went in the tank, right? A door closed inside the house, and her heart pounded. “It’s not brain surgery. I can figure it out.” There had to be an internet tutorial on it somewhere. Putting her hand on his elbow, she tried to guide Brad back to his front seat.

  He didn’t budge. “You’re looking kind of fancy for ‘just a friend.’” He squinted at the front door. “You have a date?”

  Of course, one of the few times a year she dressed up to go to a nice restaurant with Harry, Brad would have to drop by. And with the way her brother inspected all her dates, like he was a quality control supervisor on an assembly line, she couldn’t keep to that story.

  “Nope. Cass is taking me out to Le Chateau. We’re going to talk about her ideas to reorganize my office.” The curtain at the front window twitched, and Sarah’s stomach plummeted. Any second she’d be caught. She wrapped her other hand around Brad’s arm and tugged.

  The muscles beneath her fingers tensed. “Who’s Cassie dating now? Anyone I know?” he asked casually.

  “Nope. Don’t think so. I’ve got to go, so…”

  Brad took a step toward his truck.

  And stopped when her front door opened.

  His brow furrowed. “Who’s that?”

  Harry hobbled down the steps, a broad smile creasing his face. “Brad? That you? Finally come to see your old man, huh?” Reaching out a hand, he waited for Brad to shake it.

  And kept on waiting.

  Slowly, Brad turned his head to stare at her. Face impassive, he said, “Tell me that isn’t the man who abandoned us coming out of your house. Tell me you didn’t invite him here.”

  Harry dropped his hand. “So I guess that means you’re not coming to dinner with us.”

  Brad didn’t even acknowledge him. He stared at her for a long beat. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” Sliding into the cab, he slammed the door and peeled away down the drive.