by Lori Foster
“I was hoping it wouldn’t be all that quick.”
“If that was all I wanted.” She had an answer for everything. In other circumstances, he’d admire that about her. Now, it just infuriated him.
By small degrees, her features softened. “What is it you want?”
“Sex, for sure.” She needed to understand how much he wanted her. “But more than that, too—and all you do is fight me.” He smoothed a hand over her hair, then tipped up her chin. “It was your rule, honey. I’m just trying to make sure you don’t regret coming here.”
Her lips twitched, then bloomed into a self-deprecating smile. She snuggled in against him, not with lust this time, but with something even better, more like affection. “Can you forgive me?”
He rested his jaw against the top of her silky head and breathed in the scent of floral shampoo. He had her in his house. She was hugging him.
How could he not forgive her? “Consider it done.”
“Thank you for being the reasonable one.”
Not a trait she normally applied to him. “I have my moments, when something really matters.” If Maris caught on that she mattered, she didn’t say so.
“Date one, in the books.” She looked up at him. “Really, Daron, I’m sorry. I don’t usually unload my family history on people.”
“I know and I’m honored that you told me.” It made him feel a little special, too.
“I don’t usually run from hot to cold in a heartbeat, either.”
“It keeps me on my toes.” He was so glad she wasn’t slamming out, hell, he’d forgive just about anything.
“I didn’t mean for any of that to happen, it just... I’m not used to being sexually frustrated, I guess. It’s made me both whiny and bitchy.”
He grinned at her roundabout way of admitting she wanted him. “You are not either of those things, I swear. But hey, I could tell you about sexual frustration.”
Maris snorted. “Like you’ve ever done without.”
“I’ve done without you, and that counts for a lot.” He kissed her hard and fast, before she could protest. “Truce?”
“All right. Truce.” She glanced around the kitchen. “Where do you keep your bowls? I think I want ice cream, after all.”
* * *
Joy woke to the sounds of hushed voices outside her apartment, which was really odd since she lived up a flight of outside stairs. The glow of the digital clock showed it to be 6:15. Too early for visitors.
Slipping from the bed, she peeked out the window, but the angle was wrong and she couldn’t see the landing from where the low voices came.
More curious than alarmed, she darted into her son’s room and found him sound asleep, sprawled sideways across his bed. Jack often ended up in that position, which made sleep tough on the nights that he had a bad dream or when he’d been sick and wanted to sleep with her.
Feet in the face, or a head in her ribs, was the norm whenever they shared a bed.
Quietly pulling Jack’s door shut, she peeked into the living room. Through the curtain she saw shadows moving beneath the security light outside her door. She glanced down and saw that the door was still locked.
Should she call Coop? No, not yet. It might be a camper at the wrong door, or it could even be Coop, waiting for her to wake up because...of an emergency?
Moving more quickly now, Joy hurried into the bathroom, took a few seconds to take care of business, then pulled on a thick chenille housecoat and stepped into fuzzy slippers. She didn’t dare look in the mirror as she tied the belt around her waist. If she did, she’d probably find the need to comb her hair or rinse her face...
Vanity was a stupid reason to keep anyone waiting.
Creeping now, she went back into the living room and carefully pulled aside the curtain on the window.
There on her landing, both of them bundled up in winter coats, were Royce and Daron. What in the...? Dropping the curtain, she turned the lock and pulled open the door.
Startled, they both looked at her.
Then Royce looked all over her while Daron grinned and turned his back. “I’ll wait at the bottom with Coop.” Holding tight to the handrail and moving cautiously, he went back down the stairs.
With Coop? Joy leaned out the door, and sure enough, Coop stood at the base of the stairs with Chaos and his own dog, Sugar. The two animals were busy sniffing each other in impolite places and wagging their tails.
“Morning,” Coop called up to her.
“Good morning.” Gaze back on Royce, Joy asked, “Is something wrong?”
“No, and I’m sorry that we woke you.” He pressed forward, which caused her to step back and into the apartment. Royce followed, quietly closed the door, looked past her and then at her mouth.
Knowing that look oh too well, Joy backpedaled. “Nope.” She put a hand to her mouth. “I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet.”
Smiling, Royce caught her, anyway. “Just a quick kiss,” he murmured as he bent to press his chilled lips to hers, gradually tugging her into full-body contact.
Still not fully awake, she had no defenses and melted against him.
With small pecks he kissed her jaw, her neck, and nuzzled right below her ear, before he breathed, “Damn, you look incredibly hot straight from your bed.”
Joy touched her hair and felt her face heating. “So...what’s going on?”
“Ice storm last night.” He put one more kiss to her temple and stepped back. “I found out when Chaos wanted out at the butt-crack of dawn, and I knew you’d be using those steps to get Jack to school. They’re treacherous.” His gaze went down her body. “By the way, the schools are on a two-hour delay.”
“It’s that bad?” She returned to the window to look out again. Sure enough, the outside light glinted over a layer of ice coating the front half of each step. “There’s salt in the maintenance building.”
“Yeah. Daron was here when I arrived, already salting the parking lot and all around the camp store.”
Because he’d been worried about Maris. Aww, Joy thought with a small smile. She couldn’t wait to hear how their evening had gone. She’d waited up as late as she could, but her car was still in the lot when she finally went to bed.
Daron’s diligence this morning was more proof that he wasn’t the negligent, immature person Maris wanted to believe him to be.
Royce cocked a brow. “Want to tell me what that secret little smile means?”
The smile widened into a grin as she headed into her kitchen. “Just wondering how he and Maris did last night.”
“Daron’s in a good mood, if that helps.”
“Daron’s always in a good mood.” Joy got down the coffee can and filters from an upper cabinet. This time of year, Maris wouldn’t arrive at the park for another hour, but Joy was willing to bet all the men would appreciate coffee since they were already up and working. While filling the carafe with water, she asked, “So why is Coop here?”
“Same as me—he was up with Sugar and realized the park would be a mess. He came out to help Daron.”
“And now you’re all here because of my steps?” She shook her head, touched by their consideration but feeling bad that they’d gone to so much trouble. “I would have seen the ice and been careful.”
“Sure.” He leaned against the cabinet beside her and pulled off his gloves. “But it’s still dangerous, and you have a five-year-old to think about, plus his school bag and your purse.”
She didn’t admit that she’d slipped on those steps more than once. “If you guys leave the salt, I can—”
“Joy.” He traced a still-cold finger over her jaw. “How about you let us take care of it? I’m already here, Coop and Daron are already up, and we don’t mind doing it. In fact, Coop has a rubber mat he’s going to put at the camp store and we’re thinking of running into town to buy some tr
eads for the stairs, at least until I can do something about keeping the snow and ice off them in the first place.”
Her mouth dropped open. He planned to do what?
Joy knew there was something she should say, some denial she could make, but her brain drew a blank.
Finally she managed, “Let the guys know I’ll have coffee in five. I’ll be right back,” and she rushed away before Royce could reply.
Chapter Eleven
In her bedroom, Joy closed the door and, still racing, went into the bathroom to clean her teeth, brush her hair and wash her face. She looked in her closet, but everything seemed too complicated with three men waiting, so she pulled out a thick, tunic-length sweatshirt and lined tights, which she usually wore only when doing yoga...which sadly, didn’t happen often enough. She pulled on socks and stepped into low boots. No makeup, but it was the best she could do on very short notice.
When she reached the kitchen again, she found Royce filling three mugs. He glanced up—and his gaze snagged on her all over again.
That particular heat in his eyes could be lethal. Feeling as if he’d just physically stroked her, she held her breath and waited.
Voice rough, he growled, “I need to be with you again, Joy. Soon. Right this second wouldn’t be soon enough.”
Joy flushed with reciprocal heat. Yeah, she needed that, too. Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be. At least, not in the next few hours.
“I... That is, Jack...” She lifted a hand toward the hall behind her. “He’s sleeping, but—”
“What I need,” Royce stressed, giving her a fond smile of understanding, “and what I think should happen are two different things. It’s almost guaranteed that every time I see you, I’m going to want you, but you shouldn’t worry that I’d take a chance on Jack walking in on us. You have my word right now that I’d never do anything to hurt that little boy.”
His ebony eyes, which looked a little tired to her, shone with sincerity. “Thank you.”
“Ah, honey. Don’t thank me for not being a selfish ass, okay?”
Smiling, Joy nodded. “So, what brought that on? The sudden interest, I mean.”
“You’re kidding, right? Nothing sudden about it, but seeing you like that—” his gaze went over her again, his nostrils flaring slightly with a deep breath “—is enough to make me half-hard.”
Of course her gaze dropped to his lap, but his coat covered his fly. She swallowed in equal parts relief and disappointment. A little self-conscious, she tugged on the thick sweatshirt. “People don’t usually see me all sloppy.”
“Your version of sloppy is hot.” After getting down a fourth cup, Royce said, “Hope you don’t mind that I made myself at home.”
“I’m glad you did.” When he carried two cups outside, she used the opportunity to doctor hers with a liberal amount of sugar and creamer. She needed both caffeine and a sugar jolt this morning. Her heart thumped from the exchanges with him.
He wanted her as much as she wanted him.
Better still, he truly cared about Jack’s feelings. That, more than anything else, endeared Royce to her.
Endeared him and made her question her intent with this entire affair.
A few seconds later, her door opened again and, after cleaning his feet on the entry rug, Royce strolled back in. Ice crystals clung to his hair and shoulders, telling her it had started to sleet again.
If the winter weather held, it’d throw off her Halloween plans for the park—and would also negatively impact Royce’s business since Halloween at the drive-in almost guaranteed a packed lot.
But not under these conditions.
She was used to the crazy Ohio weather and had adjusted plans too many times to count when snow arrived on the worst possible day. Things could flip again just as quickly, so for now, she’d hold out hope for milder weather.
Stuffing his gloves into his coat pockets, Royce went first to the coffee, took a few drinks, then turned to her. “I told you I’m handy with my hands, right?”
Oh, the things that statement brought to mind. She knew well what he could accomplish with those hands.
His grin told her he’d read her thoughts. “Besides that,” he said, one brow arrogantly cocked as he approached, stopping right in front of her. “I’m good with building and repairs.”
“Yes?” Joy had no idea where he was going with this, and it wasn’t easy for her to think with him so near, the brisk scent of the winter storm mixing with his own delicious aroma.
He dropped his head for a moment, and when he raised it, he snared her gaze with his own. Looking far too serious, he said, “Your stairs are solid, but still dangerous. The treads and salt will help for now, but there’s a better long-term solution.”
“The stairs are fine,” she said, already knowing her budget didn’t allow for “long-term solutions.”
As if she hadn’t spoken, he continued. “Covering the stairs so the snow and ice never reach them is the way to go.”
“Royce.” She didn’t like the idea of imposing on him. “You have enough to do with your own repairs.”
He ignored that, too. “By the way, Coop told me to let you know he’ll cover the cost. Said he should have done something about the steps ages ago, but you’d never complained so he hadn’t thought about it.”
Until Royce pointed it out? Joy gulped down the rest of her coffee, letting it warm her from the inside out, hoping it’d clear out the cobwebs.
Setting aside the cup, she took a step forward, until she and Royce almost touched. “Royce.”
He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “Hmm?”
“I appreciate what you’re doing. I really do.”
The problem was that their relationship didn’t make allowances for him to do things like this. It crossed the bounds of a friend with benefits into something very different.
Didn’t it?
Joy shook her head. “You shouldn’t be here now, bothering with this stuff when your hands are already full.”
He held out his muscular arms, palms up, fingers spread. “Do I look like I’ve taxed myself?”
No, he looked like a sensual offering. His coat parted, showing her a thermal shirt fitted over a broad chest.
Stay on track.
Joy cleared her throat and worked up a slight frown. “That’s not the point.”
“The point is that those stairs should be covered to make them safe.”
Deciding to be blunt, Joy said, “I don’t need you to take care of me. I’ve managed on my own for years now.”
There was something in his eyes, something she didn’t understand, before he turned away and retrieved his coffee from the counter. He kept his back to her as he sipped. “The thing is...” The words trailed away. He set the coffee aside and braced both hands on the edge of the counter.
Concerned, Joy edged closer to him. “What?” She’d never seen Royce like this, so pensive and obviously troubled. “What is it?”
Dropping his head, he laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound.
“Royce?”
Wearing a smile of irony, he turned to face her. “When I moved here, I had this grand idea of being...” He visually searched for a word. “Unencumbered.”
Joy didn’t know what that meant, but surely if he wanted less on his plate, he shouldn’t be here this morning, offering to take on more work. “I see,” she said, because it seemed like the appropriate response. “Well, then, taking on my responsibilities isn’t—”
“I’m not. I couldn’t.” He ran a hand through his hair, pushing the inky strands back, then letting them fall forward again.
Could a man be any sexier? She honestly didn’t think so.
“Look,” he said, “I can’t imagine a bigger responsibility than a child, right? That’s a lifetime commitment and the bulk of it is going to fall on you no m
atter what. Doesn’t mean others can’t help a little, especially when the help is easily given.”
“Caring for Jack isn’t a hardship,” Joy countered, “because I love him so much.”
“I know, and full disclosure, it’s damned appealing.”
“It is?” Joy didn’t entirely understand that, either. She started to say that all moms loved their children—and then she thought of her own mother and bit her lip instead. No, all mothers most definitely did not feel the same love and devotion that she had for her son. She’d cross heaven or hell, and everywhere in between, to care for Jack.
That didn’t mean she wanted to take advantage of Royce.
Folding her arms, she studied him. “The thing is, our...arrangement doesn’t allow for such an imposition.”
As if that description of their relationship offended him, his brows twitched down.
Joy didn’t know what else to call it. “Royce—”
“The last few years were nonstop. I guess I got used to staying busy.”
“You’re still busy.”
He shook his head. “The drive-in doesn’t take nearly as much time as I thought it would, and we’ll be off-season in another week. I’ll work on the house, but still, I feel like I’m at loose ends, like things aren’t quite as I imagined them. Or maybe...” He let out a breath and said lower, “Like maybe I don’t even know what the hell I want anymore.”
She understood that feeling. Lately, she’d been uncertain, as well, not just for herself but for Jack, too. Any decisions she made would ultimately affect him.
Keep things as they were, and lavish all her attention on her son?
Or consider the idea of a stronger male influence, a unique bond with another person who cared for him?
That person could, or could not, be Royce. His indecisiveness now didn’t necessarily mean he was looking for a more meaningful relationship with her. If she took his words at face value, he simply wanted to help because he could—as any friend might.
Joy tried to think of the right thing to say, something that wasn’t too heavy. “You have Chaos.”