Nobody's Fool

by Sarah Hegger

  She guessed Donna would be in the same room Holly had used when she stayed there. Holly pressed her face through the crack in the door. The faint scent of Donna’s perfume lingered in the air.

  Nope, not going in there.

  She opened Josh’s door slowly. She still had no words, only the compelling need to be near him.

  He slept spread-eagled across the bed like someone had flung him there. Moonlight gilded his skin and he was breathtakingly beautiful. This man loved her, and Holly still couldn’t quite believe it to be true, but she was done quibbling.

  She stripped out of her clothes and slid cautiously onto one side of the bed. For once she was glad she was compact, as she found a small space for her body under his outflung arm and above one of his legs. Slowly, she eased a pillow under her head and then, as slowly, got the sheet up to her waist. The smell of Josh surrounded her like a blessing, and Holly lay perfectly still for a moment and absorbed it.

  He groaned softly in his sleep and moved.

  Holly held her breath.

  He rolled onto his side. Suddenly, he flung one arm over her waist and hauled her tight against him, her bottom cradled by his hips. His breathing was deep and even, as if he were still sleeping.

  Holly stayed as still as she could.

  His breath tickled the back of her neck and his body bracketed her from neck to toes. The warmth of him crept through her muscles inch by inch until she relaxed and melted against him. From this position, the world seemed much less harsh and daunting.

  “What took you so long?” His rough murmur startled her.

  “Just stubborn, I guess.”

  “Hmph!” His breathing returned to the deep rhythms of sleep.

  Holly’s eyes drifted shut as she relaxed and gave herself over to the safety and comfort of his embrace.

  I love you. Holly tried the words in her own head and they fit. She whispered them softly into the night. “I love you.”

  “That’s convenient,” he huffed against her neck, “because I love you, too. Now go to sleep; got a race in the morning. Got to be faster than Richard.”

  Holly entered the kitchen cautiously.

  Donna nodded a pleasant enough greeting, but Holly’s every instinct warned her to tread warily around the older woman. She slid up to the counter and out of the way.

  “Coffee?” Donna’s eyes were lighter than Josh’s, less indigo and more arctic.

  Of course the deep freeze could have absolutely nothing to do with her physiognomy and much more with recent events. “Yes, please.”

  She moved forward to fetch a cup from the cupboard behind the coffeemaker.

  Donna moved at the same time, and they narrowly avoided a collision in front of the dispassionate glare of the stainless-steel Saeco.

  Holly backed off first. “Sorry.”

  Donna nodded and grabbed a cup. She expertly twisted dials and knobs until the aromatic bite of fresh-brewed beans hit the air. The machine gurgled and burped happily into her cup.

  “Cream? Milk?”

  “Cream, please.”

  “Sugar?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Donna doctored the cup with the efficiency of long practice and slid it across the granite toward her.

  “Thank you.” Holly pulled it closer.

  The silence shrieked around them, and Holly took a careful swallow of her coffee. She almost burned her throat trying not to fill the silence with something like a slurp or a loud swallow.

  “How is it?”

  “Great.” Did she have to sound so bloody enthusiastic? A little over the top for a morning cup of coffee, but it would have been perfect if they’d been discussing, say, a cease-fire in the Middle East. Holly had a whole new appreciation for the tired old journalistic workhorse : the situation is poised on a knife’s edge. There they were, two women, both of them loving the same man—poised on a knife’s edge. It sounded rather depressingly apt.

  Donna stood in front of the fridge and surveyed the contents. “Are you hungry?”

  “No.” Enough was enough, and Holly took a bracing sip of coffee. Cowering here under the displeasure of the woman who might or might not be playing a significant role in the rest of her life wasn’t going to fly—unless of course Josh could be made to see the expediency of shallow graves.

  “No, thank you.” She eased back on the throttle. All indications were Josh adored his mother.

  In for a penny, in for a pound. Poised on a knife’s edge.

  “You don’t like me very much.” Holly lobbed her first grenade and braced for the explosions.

  “I don’t know you well enough to say,” Donna counterattacked with a swift and lethal passive-aggressive strike. She turned to look at Holly, her face stony. “But you’re right,” she said suddenly. “Given the way my son is suffering at the moment, I don’t like you very much.”

  Who was the idiot who said honesty was the best policy? Holly took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Fair enough.”

  “I’m a mother.” Donna turned back to the fridge. “Someone hurts my child and I get feral. I know you understand.”

  And she did. Holly nodded. Not all mothers gave birth to their charges. Some fostered someone else’s offspring.

  “The thing is …” Holly wasn’t entirely sure why she was bothering to explain this, but she wanted the other woman to understand. “I’m not very good with this sort of thing.”

  Donna raised an eyebrow in question.

  “The relationship thing.” Oh, hell, she sounded like an idiot. “I get frightened, and it doesn’t always bring out the best in me.”

  “Relationships are scary.” Donna pulled out a carton of eggs. “We put ourselves on the line for them and we are all frightened of being hurt.”

  “True.” Josh had said much the same thing. “But some of us aren’t as brave as others.”

  “Some of us have a good reason for being cautious.” A flicker of something that was nearly a smile touched one corner of Donna’s mouth. “But that’s not an excuse, merely an explanation.”

  “Right you are.” Talk about a tough room. “I’ll try to do better.”

  “Try hard.” Donna glared at her.

  “Will do.” Josh’s mother could scare the pants off anyone.

  Donna took the eggs out and laid them on the counter. She dug through drawers until she found a pan. “I was going to meet Josh at the finish line later today.” She cracked the eggs into a bowl.

  His triathlon. Holly hadn’t given it a thought when she’d crawled into his bed last night. Selfish. Selfish. Clearly, Donna was right. She had some serious ground to cover before she got any good at this relationship thing. “I should have waited until it was over.”

  Amazingly, Donna didn’t react, which proved she was either warming up to her or Donna had decided she couldn’t get much lower and had zero expectations. Not a cheery thought.

  “Would you like to come with me?”

  “Yes, I would.” It was so unexpected, Holly’s mouth dropped open and she blinked at Donna stupidly for a long moment. “I would like that very much.”

  “And Joshua would love it.” Donna heaved a huge sigh that seemed to come from the depths of her being.

  So. They weren’t exactly soul sisters, and Donna wasn’t delighted about the situation, but it was something. And, there were way too many eggs in the bowl for one person. Things were looking up already.

  Josh could honestly say the best part of completing an Ironman was when you stopped moving. The swim went well, the cycle was exhausting, and the marathon was nothing short of mind over very, very sore matter.

  He sat in the competitor’s tent and looked at the other exhausted bodies around him.

  Richard came in with Lucy tripping along beside him, looking like an advertisement for fertility.

  Even in a tent full of exhausted, aching men, heads jerked and turned. Some could only move their eyeballs, but they moved.

  Cocaine, Richard had once called his
wife, cocaine for straight men.

  “How you doing?” Richard clapped a firm hand on his shoulder.

  Josh grinned weakly. “I don’t think they work anymore.” He twitched a finger in the direction of his legs. Nothing else could or would move.

  Richard smiled and squeezed his shoulder. “Did you get your time?”

  “Nope.” Josh shook his head. He didn’t even have it in him to give a shit. “All I registered was ‘finished.’”

  “Well, then, allow me to be the first to tell you that you did it in ten hours and sixteen minutes.”

  Josh threw himself back in his chair and sucked at an energy drink. “Great.”

  “You beat my time by forty minutes.” Richard gave him a broad, happy grin.

  “Whoopee.” Josh worked on the straw as if his life depended on it. Sweet electrolytes burst over his tongue and down his sandpapered throat. “Did you bring any drugs?”

  There had to be advantages to having a doctor for a brother.

  “Sorry, bud.” Richard shook his head. “But I’m not on duty here. Besides which, it’s frowned upon when we doctors whip out needles and start jabbing people indiscriminately.”

  “Even family?”

  “Even family.”

  “I’m not too proud to beg.”

  Richard laughed and crouched down beside his chair. “Well done, Josh. Fantastic effort.” And he meant it.

  Josh smiled back, warmed by his brother’s praise.

  Richard grinned. “You looked powerful right to the end.”

  “Powerful?” He’d settle for anything better than pathetic.

  “All sexy, sweaty stud,” Lucy said.

  His fellow competitors stirred into life.

  Lucy gave him her beautiful smile. “There’s a surprise waiting for you outside.”

  Josh didn’t want any surprises, wonderful or otherwise. He wanted to go home and crawl into bed and have Holly crawl in beside him until the hurting stopped. Just like she had last night. He’d been sleeping, all the time feeling like a part of him was missing, and then there she was. Slipping in next to him with her own unique brand of everything’s going to be all right; just let me finish extracting this tooth.

  The tiredness went way deeper than his muscles. “Let’s go home.”

  “You don’t want to stay for the event afterward?”

  “Hell no.” Josh rocked his weight forward and stopped. “You’re going to have to help me up.” He glared balefully at his brother, daring Richard to make some smart-ass comment.

  Richard hauled him to his feet.

  Josh had never fully appreciated the mechanics involved in taking a step, the collection of muscles that would need to contract into action. Now that every one of those muscles ached, he understood very clearly what was involved in moving one step forward.

  Richard chuckled softly and took his elbow in a light clasp. “You might want to man up here a little,” he said, softly enough for only Josh to hear. “Your lady is outside.”

  “Holly’s here?” Josh had the ridiculous urge to cry.

  “Yup.” Richard nodded calmly. “She came with Ma earlier this morning. They’ve been here most of the day.”

  Josh closed his eyes to bring back the sweet feel of Holly in his arms. Her even sweeter words of love and, as suddenly, adrenaline pumped through his muscles and he walked. Well, more of a hobble, but at least he was mobile.

  And there she was, and it was better than a shot of anti-inflammatory straight into the thigh.

  She stood beside his mother, shorter even than Donna, dressed like a bag lady with her wild, wild hair making a break for freedom any place it could. Her T-shirt was at least three sizes too big and probably a Walmart reject, her cargo shorts were straight from the Sears boys’ department—and she was perfect.

  Holly Partridge, the most beautiful girl in the world, saw him coming and sent him a smile so sweet and full of apprehension that he melted. One look and he was putty in her managing little hands.

  “Hey, pretty boy.” She beamed up at him. “You were amazing.”

  He beamed back at her. She was right, he was. Abso-fucking-lutely amazing, a magnificent pagan god, a colossus among men, and, most of all, the man who got to take Holly Partridge home.

  He tugged her closer to his side. “Are you impressed?”

  She didn’t seem to mind he was sweaty and filthy. She snuggled up beside him and tipped her pretty face up to him. Her mane tangled over his hands and tickled the skin of his forearms and he threaded his fingers through it—just because he could.

  “You did great.” She tapped his chest possessively. “It was rather gladiatorial and primal.”

  He grinned like an idiot. “That’s good, right?”

  “Sure.” She grinned back. “If you’re looking for the mate who will pass on the strongest DNA.”

  “So.” Josh’s eyes gleamed down at her. “Am I your chosen sperm donor?”

  “Gross.” Lucy poked him in the back. “As lines go, Josh … ergh.” She made a few retching noises.

  “Yes.” Donna reached over from his free side and kissed him on the cheek. “You might want to remember your mother is present.” She patted his cheek gently. “Formidable, mon fils.”

  “Where’s the rest of your tribe?” Josh asked as they hobbled toward the car.

  “Grace has them under her thumb.” Holly opened the door for him.

  He clambered in with the grace and dexterity of a rhinoceros.

  Donna drove and Holly helped him into the back and rode shotgun.

  “And what will happen to them now?” Donna asked.

  Here it came. Josh tensed.

  Holly merely shrugged and threw him a soft smile over her shoulder. “That depends on what happens when Josh and I sit down to talk.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Josh felt no pain. A hot bath, a couple of magic tablets left for him by his brother, and peace and love reigned. And a sweet Holly was pure honey.

  She seated him comfortably on his bed and poured him a very fine glass of red wine.

  The rest of the house was silent. The other sisters were off doing something.

  Josh didn’t ask any questions, too scared he’d jinx the thing. Tonight he had Holly all to himself, and life couldn’t get much better.

  A surprise she’d promised him in her raspy voice with a glint in her eye had made him hard just thinking about it.

  Candles lit the room, their bodies glowing warm amber and honey as they perfumed the air. The light flickered in golden silhouettes against the wall.

  A voice ululated gently against a soft, throbbing beat. An arghul lifted its reedy voice across the bass throb and sent tendrils of haunting sound drifting through the incensed air.

  His exhausted brain had to be making this shit up.

  Holly floated in with the melody stroked across the strings of a kanoun. But Holly as he’d never seen her, wrapped in gauze, her hair hung in loose waves to the curve of her waist.

  He almost asked her what she was doing, but she began to dance.

  Josh swallowed his tongue.

  Her body inhabited the sensual rhythms of the belly dance, undulating and wrapping the silken skeins of seduction around him.

  His gaze stuck. A part of him wanted to laugh, it was so unbelievable, but the larger part stared in silent amazement.

  Light and shadow caressed the curves and crevices of her body, shifted and settled and shifted again as she moved.

  The music pulsed within the room like a heartbeat, and Holly moved through and with it. The candles gilded her skin to molten gold as she moved. Tiny bells tinkled from her ankles and wrists and coins shimmered as they moved against the skin of her belly. Their sound hit the air in a sweet susurration, weaving a spell around him.

  The scent of jasmine lay heavy and teased him with possibilities.

  Holly wove and twisted wraithlike through the flickering light. The soft clash of the coins dancing across her belly and the slow, dr
eamy float of gauze through the air held him captive.

  His lids dropped, and he forced them open, but they went right back down. The perfumed air coddled him in a warm embrace as the music settled into the slow beat of his heart.

  Josh’s eyelids flickered. He’d swum over two miles, followed by a hundred-and-twelve-mile bike ride and, finally, run a full twenty-six-mile marathon. He jerked his eyes open and fixed his gaze on the fascinating woman who moved like a sensual mist through the laden atmosphere.

  Maybe if he rested his eyes for a moment …

  Holly paused to look at Josh. Her mouth dropped open with a huff of surprise.

  He was fast asleep. Not dozing, but man-down, out-for-the-count asleep. His head had dropped to the side and his mouth hung open, noisily hissing air down his throat.

  For a moment Holly considered stuffing her gauze scarf down his open maw, but her better nature won out. She’d had big plans for tonight. She’d been belly dancing for eight years now, but this was the first time she’d ever done it for someone. It was the first time she’d ever told a man she loved him. Leave it to Josh to disrupt her best-laid plans. Lucy had helped her set the whole thing up, even found the outfit for her. The other woman was going to have to wait on the details. Actually, Lucy was going to die laughing.

  A snore sawed through the air, and Holly laughed.

  She approached the bed slowly, her bells clinking softly as she walked.

  His breathing came deep and even. Even with his mouth hanging open, Josh Hunter was every girl’s dearest wish.

  And this beautiful man was hers.

  A secret thrill chased down her spine.

  He loved her. God knows why and quite possibly he really needed to get out more, but he loved her. She would never get tired of knowing that.

  Quietly, she moved about the room, snuffing candles as she went.

  Josh blinked his eyes open to discover morning. He shut his eyes and opened them again, just to make sure. The last thing he remembered was Holly and the belly dancing; he’d shut his eyes for a moment and—

  Oh, fuck.

  Two things hit him simultaneously, both of them with the approximate force of a Mack truck. Jesus, he’d screwed up with Holly. The second thing sent him reeling back onto the mattress again, as he paid the price for an Ironman time of ten hours and sixteen minutes.