Protecting Tricia

by Pamela Tyner

  “I owe you an apology,” Tricia said.

  “Excuse me? I must have heard you wrong. Would you mind repeating that?”

  Obviously he wasn’t going to make this easy on her, and she couldn’t really blame him. She turned her head to face him. “I said I owe you an apology. I know I’ve been hard-headed and stubborn, not to mention ungrateful.”

  “I can’t argue with that.”

  “I was being so difficult because I was still angry at you. But...” She shrugged her shoulders. “Regardless of what happened in the past, right now you’re acting like a friend. So, thank you for helping me.”

  “You’re welcome.” He studied her face for a moment, then said, “I owe you an apology too…for how things ended between us. There hasn’t been a single day that I haven’t regretted what happened. It was the biggest mistake of my life.”

  God, he actually sounds sincere.

  She looked away, swallowed. Silence hung in the air and seemed to stretch out endlessly.

  “Tricia.” He laid his hand gently on her arm.

  She yanked away from his touch. “Please, let’s leave it alone.”

  “Okay,” he finally said. “So, what’s the plan?”

  Puzzled, she glanced at him.

  “Once Matt’s gone, what are you going to do?”

  She shrugged. “Find a job, earn a living.”

  “What kind of job?”

  “I’m in no position to be picky. I’ll take whatever I can find.”

  “What did you do in Florida?”

  “Nothing.”

  His brow creased in bewilderment. “You didn’t work? Did you go to school?”

  “No. Tuition and books are expensive. We didn’t have the money for it.”

  At least according to Matt. Of course, she didn’t know how true his claims were since he handled all the finances. But it did strike her as odd that he always seemed to have money for beer and poker games.

  “I’m no genius, but even to me the solution to that problem seems pretty clear. Work for a while, save your money, and then go to school.”

  “Matt didn’t want me to work.”

  Clint stared at her silently for a moment. “I see,” he said at last. “But I’m still not buying it. There are loans.”

  “Matt also pointed out that I’d already tried school, and I failed. So what was the point in spending more money on it?”

  “You failed? I find that hard to believe.”

  “It’s true. The last semester I went to school I failed every single class.”

  “Hmm. Right after your parents died. Just out of curiosity, what kind of grades did you make the semester before?”

  She sighed. “Look, I know where you’re going with this.”

  “I hope you do. I really hope you do.”

  * * * *

  Tricia set the glasses of tea on the table as Clint entered the kitchen. Stopping abruptly in the middle of the room, he surveyed the table. He looked at the two place settings, and then raised his questioning gaze to Tricia.

  She wasn’t surprised by his misgivings since the only time they had actually eaten together was the night Jenny and Neil had visited. At all other times, they had each fixed their own meals, eating separately.

  She gestured toward one of the chairs. “Sit down.”

  When he sat his actions were so cautious, the look on his face so wary, she had to suppress a grin. Without a word, he picked up his spoon and they ate in complete silence.

  “What made you decide to do this?” he finally asked.

  “It’s not much. All I did was open a can of soup and make a few sandwiches.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I’m just tired of all the…tension between us. Of course, if you prefer, we can go back to how we’ve been doing things.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “No, I like this just fine.”

  After dinner, Clint helped her clean the kitchen. She came close to insisting he didn’t need to help her, but she managed to bite her tongue before the words could escape.

  Matt had considered cleaning to be a woman’s job, and he would have been appalled at the prospect of washing dishes. Although she had secretly disagreed with his attitude, she’d never verbally challenged it. It just hadn’t been worth the argument that would have followed. An argument that she, no doubt, would have lost anyway.

  So why had she automatically started to refuse Clint’s help? Maybe over the years, a few of Matt’s views had become implanted in her own mind. The thought repulsed her.

  Once the kitchen was clean, they went into the living room and plopped down on the couch. Clint grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. Watching TV together would be another first for them since her arrival.

  “Is there something you want to watch?” he asked as he flipped through the channels.

  She glanced at him in surprise for a moment and then shook off the feeling. For Christ’s sake, all he’d done was ask what she wanted to watch. True, it’d been years since a man had asked her that. But the fact that Clint had managed to impress her with such a small thing was downright pathetic.

  “Anything’s fine.”

  Don’t be so darn agreeable. Tell him what you want.

  “I’d like to watch something funny.”

  “Okay.” He flipped to a sitcom then tossed the remote on the end table and settled back in the couch.

  Over the course of the next hour Tricia smiled and even managed a few chuckles.

  When she shifted in her seat for what must have been the hundredth time, Clint asked, “Sore?”

  “A little.”

  “You know, the best thing for it would be something to relax the muscles, get the blood flowing again.”

  She glanced over at him. “And that would be?”

  “A massage, of course. If you want, I could help you out in that area.” He winked at her.

  “Oh, I just bet you could,” she muttered. She was sure he’d be able to get her blood flowing with no problem whatsoever. Just the thought of his big, strong hands stroking and kneading her skin—up her thighs, over her rear—sent her blood racing through her veins.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say a word the phone rang. Tricia picked up the receiver from the end table beside her and handed it to Clint.

  “Hello?” After a moment’s pause, a smile covered his face. “Well, hello darlin’.”

  Tricia tried not to listen, she truly did. But it was hard to miss the terms honey and sweetheart, and phrases like I’m so glad you called, I’ve missed you too.

  Apparently, Candy had forgiven him and was more than ready to make amends. Or maybe it wasn’t Candy. Maybe it was another one of his female friends.

  The longer she sat there listening to him gush into the phone, the more foolish she felt. It was more effective than a slap in the face. Here she had been feeling all friendly toward him. The man had just offered to massage her butt for Christ’s sake. Then he’d completely dismissed her when another woman called. It was a stern reminder to her not to forget that some things never change.

  Well, why don’t you leave? Then you wouldn’t have to listen to it.

  Yes, that was the perfect solution. She got up to head for the bedroom. As she walked past him an idea crept into her mind, causing her to pause mid-stride.

  Don’t do it.

  She mentally slapped a piece of masking tape on the irritating little voice screaming inside her head and did it anyway.

  She leaned close to Clint’s ear, which also resulted in her mouth being mere inches from the receiver, where she knew her words would not be missed by the caller.

  “I’m going to bed now, honey. Make sure you don’t make me wait too long. It gets awful lonely in there by myself.”

  With a self-satisfied smirk, she straightened, but before she could take a step, Clint’s hand shot out to grab her wrist. When their gazes collided, his eyes were hard and angry.

  “I’ve got to go now,
sweetie,” he said into the phone. “I’ll call you in a few days. Daddy loves you.”

  Without breaking eye contact with her, he disconnected the call and tossed the phone on the couch.

  “I hope you’re happy. My daughter is now innocently telling her mother that Daddy had to hang up so he could keep some woman company in bed. As if my ex doesn’t make my life miserable enough, you have now given her yet another reason to drag my ass back into court.” Although his tone was calm, fury blazed in his eyes.

  “That’s ridiculous. She can’t take you to court over something like that.”

  He stood, still maintaining his hold on her wrist. “She will. She may not win, but she’ll do it. She’ll argue that since I’m obviously parading women in and out of my house, it’s not the proper environment for a small child. And therefore, the issue of my visitation rights needs to be readdressed. Even if she loses, she wins. Because she’ll have cost me more money and time than I can afford to lose.”

  “I’m sorry,” she squeaked out, wishing she could go back in time and undo her actions.

  “You should be.”

  He released her wrist and a millisecond later swung her up in his arms.

  “What are you doing?” she gasped as he headed down the hallway with her cradled against his chest.

  “Well, honey, I’m taking you to bed. And I’ll be staying to make damn sure you’re not lonely.”

  Chapter 9

  Tricia had been so startled by Clint’s actions that they were halfway down the hall before she finally managed to speak. “Put me down,” she ordered, pushing against his shoulders.

  “All I’m doing is giving you exactly what you asked for,” Clint said between clenched teeth.

  He faced straight ahead and continued marching toward his destination. She searched his face for any signs of retreat but found none. His expression was hardened, his eyes angry as he turned and entered the bedroom.

  She shook her head in denial. “No,” she said firmly.

  He looked down to meet her gaze. “No?” His brow rose. “But that’s not what you said, honey. You said you wanted to go to bed.”

  Standing over the bed, he dropped her. She bounced when she hit the mattress, the springs creaking in protest.

  “You also said you wanted me to keep you company so you wouldn’t be lonely.”

  Yes, those had been her exact words.

  Bracing his hands on either side of her body, he leaned close, his mouth mere inches from hers. “I’d never be able to live with myself if I knew I had the power to give you what you wanted, but I failed to do it.” As he spoke, his breath fluttered across her mouth.

  She moistened her dry lips with her tongue.

  He drew back slightly, and their eyes met briefly before his gaze dropped to her mouth. “Lips a little dry?”

  They were parched.

  She was certain he would attempt to remedy the situation and didn’t find the idea entirely unpleasant. The kiss they’d shared the previous night had only served as a reminder of just how skilled his mouth was. She quivered as she imagined his tongue easing between her lips which were now parted in anticipation.

  His gaze returned to her eyes. “I’m afraid I can’t help you with that. After all, I did promise not to touch that part of your body again, unless you specifically asked me to.”

  How was it possible to simultaneously feel both disappointment and relief? Damn it, she had wanted to feel his mouth on hers. But at the same time, the logical side of her brain urged her to avoid it at all cost. Physical contact with Clint was a dangerous thing. His touch always resulted in every rational thought flying from her head.

  His lips curved up into a smile. “However, that’s the only part of your body I promised not to touch.”

  At his implication, she drew in a deep breath of air, both hopeful and worried that he’d follow through on his threat.

  “Any other part of your body you need a little help with?”

  She shook her head.

  “Are you sure? Is there anything at all I can do to make you a little more comfortable or at ease? Because God knows I haven’t done enough,” he said, his words dripping with sarcasm.

  She tried to rise to brace herself on her elbows, but he refused to budge, and all she accomplished was pressing her chest against his. Giving up, she returned to a prone position.

  “You’ve done plenty. More than enough. And I appreciate it, I really do.”

  He shook his head. “Now honey, I know you’re just trying to make me feel better. I realize I’ve been neglectful, that I haven’t satisfied every single one of your needs and desires. And I’m determined to do something to fix it.”

  He planted one knee in the mattress next to her hip and swung his other leg over her body so he was straddling her.

  From a distance came the sound of a ringing phone. Over and over it rang in the background as they stared at each other.

  “You should answer that,” she whispered. “It might be important.”

  “Nah. It’s just my ex. She’ll call back. She knows I’m busy,” he said with a wink.

  Tricia closed her eyes. She had created an enormous problem for him all because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Because she’d been… As much as she hated to admit it, she’d been jealous.

  She opened her eyes to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

  “Don’t give it a second thought. After all, everyone in town thinks we’re lovers, why not make it everyone in the world?”

  He brushed his hand against her side. Startled by the contact, her body jerked in reflex.

  “A little jumpy. What you need is something to help you relax a bit. Let’s see…” His brow wrinkled in thought. “How can we accomplish that?”

  His hand grazed a path up her side, past her ribs, the swell of her breast. Holding her breath, she concentrated intently on remaining still. With great care, he pulled apart the edges of her shirt and brushed a fingertip over the top of her cleavage. She tried, but couldn’t contain the gasp that escaped her mouth.

  “You might be more comfortable, better able to relax, if we got you out of these clothes.” He held her gaze as he eased open the top two buttons of her shirt.

  Glancing down, he trailed a fingertip over the lacy edge of her bra. He raised his gaze and looked deeply into her eyes. Gently, he brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered.

  Amazing how his voice, which had started out cold and angry, had now become soft and coaxing. His touch had changed from firm and possessive to loose and gentle.

  Lowering his head, he planted a soft kiss beneath her ear. Before she even realized what she was doing, she had stretched her neck to give him better access. He trailed a pathway of kisses down her neck to the swell of her breasts.

  The feel of his lips against her skin ignited a fire inside her. Of its own accord, her hand cupped the back of his head. When she became aware the intention of the action was to press his mouth more firmly against her, she yanked her hand away and forced herself to let it fall to the mattress. With his thumb, he stroked one of her hardened nipples. She bit her bottom lip to keep from moaning and clutched her hands into fists.

  She practically salivated in anticipation as she waited for the moment he would pull away the fabric of her bra and stroke her nipple with his tongue. If he didn’t do it soon, she feared she might reach down and strip it out of the way for him. She prayed she wouldn’t be forced to perform such a shameless, wanton act.

  “Your heart’s beating so hard I can hear it.” His lips hovered barely above her skin, and she felt them curve into a smile. “Excitement, maybe?” he asked, sounding incredibly pleased with himself.

  Her body stiffened at the egotistical sound in his voice. In a snap, she was jerked back to reality.

  Yes, it was excitement that had her pulse pounding like a jackhammer. To herself she would admit it, but damned if she wanted him to know it. If
he knew it, it would give him entirely too much power. Never again would a man possess any type of power over her.

  “No, you arrogant jerk, it’s fear.”

  His head jolted up, his gaze colliding with hers. He had the surprised, confused look of a man who had just been slapped and couldn’t quite comprehend the reason behind it. “God, Tricia, I’m sorry. I thought—”

  “You thought wrong.”

  He swung his body off hers and sat up on the side of the bed. Bracing his elbows on his knees, he rubbed his face with his hands.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said again. Sighing heavily, he stood and walked out of the room.

  Something tugged at her heart then squeezed it in a tight grip. What it was she didn’t know. Maybe it was the fact that he sounded so dejected. It could have been disappointment that he hadn’t finished the task he’d started. But she suspected the real culprit was guilt. Clint hadn’t thought incorrectly, yet she had laid all the blame right at his feet.

  * * * *

  An hour later, Clint lay in bed, hands clasped behind his head, staring at the ceiling. He hadn’t meant to carry things as far as he had. Initially, he’d only intended, had only wanted, to make her squirm a bit. But when she had softened beneath him, when the resistance had disappeared to be replaced with what he thought was surrender, he’d gotten caught up in the heat of it.

  Obviously, he had been badly mistaken. It was clear she had no intention of surrendering to him. He felt like scum for not realizing it sooner, for not stopping sooner.

  At the sound of movement in the hallway, he glanced at the door. From the direction of the noise, he knew Tricia was leaving the bedroom. Her footsteps got further away, telling him that she was traveling down the hallway toward the living room.

  He stared back up at the ceiling and wondered where she was going. He didn’t think she was in any danger, her footsteps had been light. It wasn’t the sound of someone being dragged away against their will. Nevertheless, the events of the previous night had him concerned about what might happen if Matt did find her, if he somehow managed to sneak into the house in the middle of the night.

  Then again, there was always the possibility he had pissed her off enough that she planned to simply leave, to take off walking. She’d have to walk for miles before she reached another house, even further before she reached a store. All alone, in the dark, totally unprotected against whatever dangers she might encounter.