by Lori Wilde
The Spotify app on her phone crooned love songs through her earbuds, and July couldn’t sleep.
Just knowing Tucker Haynes was in the next room prevented her from closing her eyes. Not that she was nervous about housing the man. She trusted her instincts.
Besides, she couldn’t help remembering her mother and what might have happened if a concerned family hadn’t taken Mom in when she had needed kindness the most.
The memory floated through her mind, sharp and fresh as if it had happened yesterday. That incident that had finally made her mother face the truth about her opioid addiction and start the long, arduous process back to sobriety.
July remembered that winter afternoon when she’d come home from school to find the front door standing wide open and the house empty.
She’d been thirteen years old and accustomed to her mother’s often bizarre behavior, but this was the first time Mom had ever disappeared without a trace.
Panicked, July had called her father, whose tendency was to pooh-pooh her concerns in favor of ignoring the situation. July recalled the fear, the self-incrimination, the driving need to do something.
For two days they waited for Mom to come home. Finally, she pressured her father into notifying the police.
On the third day, her mother returned. Accompanied by a sweet-faced young couple who’d discovered July’s mother lying drunk in the gutter in the freezing rain. They’d insisted she come home with them. The husband was a minister, the wife a nurse who worked at a rehab facility.
During her stay with the couple, July’s mother had come to see how her addiction was destroying her health and her family. That had been the first step. It hadn’t been easy, and there had been a few setbacks, but eventually, after three stints in a treatment facility, Madeleine Johnson had kicked her dependency to opioids.
July twisted the covers around her hand. If by taking Tucker into her home, she could achieve a similar transformation, any risk was worth the results.
No, indeed, she wasn’t nervous about Tucker. She believed in the basic goodness of human beings, and her personal experience with acceptance, compassion, and love told her she’d done the right thing in asking Tucker to stay. For all she knew, someone was worried frantically about him.
The music app broke for commercial messages. The advertiser was selling blankets. “Snuggle with someone you love under Foreman’s Fleece.”
Snuggle with someone you love.
The words conjured a cozy scene, and July’s mind obligingly offered the “someone.” She imagined cuddling on the sofa with Tucker in front of a crackling fire, drinking hot chocolate and sharing soft kisses.
A delicious shiver passed through her.
Groaning, July flopped over onto her stomach and buried her head under the pillow that was the mate to the one she’d given Tucker. Her fantasies were getting out of hand, and she had no idea how to stop them.
Think about something else.
But how? No matter how hard she tried, July kept smelling Tucker’s masculine scent, kept feeling his fine hair between her fingers, kept seeing those deep-brown eyes peering inquisitively at her.
The commercials finished, and the music was back. “She’s Everything.” A gentle ballad performed by her favorite country artist, Brad Paisley, who looked so much like Tucker. July caught her breath and pressed the back of her hand to her damp forehead.
From the living room, she heard a floorboard creak. Was Tucker awake?
She lay still, listening. She could hear her pulse rushing through her ears.
Yes. The floorboard creaked again.
It sounded as if he was pacing. What was wrong? Couldn’t he sleep, either?
A disturbing thought nudged her. What if Tucker was taking advantage of her hospitality and stealing from her? After all, what did she truly know about the man?
July shook her head to dispel that notion. He might be down on his luck, but she didn’t think he was dangerous. Of course, her mother hadn’t been dangerous either, despite being picked up for shoplifting on numerous occasions and writing hot checks.
July sighed. Thinking of her mom was even more reason to give Tucker the benefit of the doubt. If he was stealing from her, he needed the money more than she did, and how could she begrudge anyone with a problem that severe?
The floorboards creaked again. What was he doing out there?
Suddenly, she developed a powerful thirst. A glass of water. That was the answer. July pushed back the covers and swung her feet to the floor.
Tiptoeing across the room, she eased open the door. The seashell night-light in the hallway illuminated her path. Her cotton gown brushed against her thighs. For some strange reason, her heart galloped.
She sidled forward, careful not to make any noise. She wanted to peek at Tucker without giving herself away.
Angling her head around the archway that led from the bedroom to the living room, July spotted him standing in front of the window, his hands braced against his lower back.
Streetlights slanted in through the curtains, casting an eerie white glow across the carpet. Tucker cut a breathtaking silhouette. So large, so manly. Strong and dangerous. He looked like a dark knight or maybe even a pirate come to life straight from the pages of a romance novel.
He wore boxer shorts and a T-shirt. His legs were long and muscular, his thighs lean and powerful. He looked magnificent.
A shiver of pure desire rippled down July’s spine. She caught her breath in a sharp, halting gasp. What was happening to her? She simply could not allow her emotions free rein. July hesitated in the archway, unsure whether to go back to her bed or move forward.
In the end, Tucker decided the issue for her.
He turned around. “Hello,” he murmured.
“Hi.” Shyness engulfed her.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
“No.”
“Me, either.”
“Is it still sleeting?” she asked, peering into the darkness and willing her pulse to slow. Light from the window glinted off his face, giving him a mysterious appearance.
“Come see.” He held out his arm to her.
Tentatively, July walked across the floor, her pulse threading faster with each step. She stopped a few feet from him.
“Look.” He pulled back the curtain.
July craned her neck and saw snow flurries swirling before the window. Already a soft blanket of snow covered the ground.
“I don’t believe it.” She breathed. “I’ve never seen it snow in Rascal before Thanksgiving.”
Excited, she inched closer, acutely aware that Tucker was within touching distance. She felt his stare but didn’t dare raise her eyes and challenge his gaze.
“I love your excitement,” he whispered.
A nervous sensation skittered along her nerve endings, stirring needy emotions deep within her. Bravely, July lifted her head and found herself swallowed up by Tucker’s dark eyes.
“What’s the point of living if you can’t enjoy the wonders of creation?” She studied his expression.
He pursed his lips, and his eyebrows bunched together on his forehead. “There are a lot more unsavory things in this world than there are wonders.”
“You are such a pessimist, Tucker. Can’t you see how your outlook colors everything?”
“That’s easy to say when you’re not living on the street.” His jaw hardened, and his eyes glistened a warning.
“Wasn’t it Oscar Wilde who said, ‘We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.’ Look up, Tucker. See the heavenly lights, forget the past and the wrongs that were done to you. Think of the future and what you can become.”
“Life’s been good to you,” he scoffed.
His words sparked her anger. He knew nothing of her and her background. Sure, he had fallen on hard times, but she’d suffered, too. More than he could ever guess.
July settled her hands on her hips. “Look here, Tucker, I’m a bit sick of this talk. Do you think having a
positive attitude is easy? Do you think I wake up every morning with a bluebird smile on my face? Do you really believe I have no problems? That good things just drop into my lap?”
Tucker shifted his weight. “I merely pointed out that not everyone has had your advantages in life.”
“And what advantages are those? You don’t even know me!” July hadn’t meant to shout, but her words reverberated around the room, shocking them both.
“You’re right,” Tucker said in a distant tone. “I don’t know you at all.”
What had she let herself in for, inviting this man into her home? They were complete strangers. Alone. Vulnerable. Together in a small apartment with a snowstorm whirling outside the window.
Two people who knew absolutely nothing of each other.
And yet, there was something between them. A bond July could not name. There was a physical attraction most definitely, but the electrical response shimmering from her to him and back again was far more complicated than that.
The powerful sensation stretched beyond July’s urges to help a fellow human being in need. It was more than Tucker’s loneliness and self-imposed isolation. Deep within her soul, July felt an unusual stirring. An incredible sense of knowing that this man would forever affect her life.
Their gazes locked. July whistled in a breath past dry lips.
Tucker took a step closer.
July retreated.
From the window, a wintery draft cooled her backside. Mesmerized, she couldn’t seem to tear her gaze from his.
Tucker moved even closer until his jaw was almost level with the top of her head.
“You look incredible with the light shining through your nightgown,” he said softly. “Like a fairy ice princess.”
Common sense urged her to slide away from him. Prudence screamed for her to duck her head and run. Discretion begged retreat. But July heeded none of her internal warnings.
In fact, she stood on her tiptoes and raised her chin as if imploring him to kiss her. She looked into those deep-brown eyes and found herself battered by her feelings.
The clock on the wall chimed the hour. Cool air raised the fine hairs on her arms. Her toes curled into the braided rug. July moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue and waited, her heart pounding so loudly, she feared Tucker could hear it.
“I would like to kiss you.”
7
The sound of his voice, all husky and deep, sent tremors throughout her body. She’d never known the sound of a man’s voice could send little hits of electricity jolting through her body.
“Tucker.”
“July.”
“You don’t want to kiss me…”
He looked amused. “I don’t?”
She shook her head. “Nooo.”
“Who do I want to kiss?”
“Your idea of me.”
“No, I’m pretty sure I want to kiss you.”
“Your feelings of desire?”
“Yes?”
“They’re just transference.”
“Transference?”
“I’m a substitute.”
“For what?”
“For the tender feelings that you originally felt in childhood.”
“Huh?”
“The feelings you’re having for me are reflections of feelings you had for a past love. Your parents or maybe an old girlfriend.”
What about you, July? Are your feelings for Tucker a reflection of your feelings for Dexter?
Wow. That thought brought her up short. Were they? Rather than Tucker experiencing transference, was she projecting her transference onto him?
She paused to let that sink in. Considered it. No, she’d worked through her Dexter issues with a therapist. These feelings she had for Tucker were something new.
Then maybe his feelings for you are new too, and not transference at all.
How could she know for sure?
Oh man, this was the hard part of knowing too much psychology. Rather than trying to analyze everything to death, what if she just went with the flow? If she’d just accepted him at face value, she’d be kissing him right now, instead of anxiously worrying about what it all meant.
But she’d blown the mood. The sexy tenor of the moment had gone right out the window. Kissing was off the table.
Tucker blinked, screwed up his mouth in thought, and plunked down on the sofa.
July sat cross-legged on the floor in front of him. “Tucker? Are you okay?”
“Just thinking about what you said.”
“Something from your past?”
“You remind me of her a little.”
She didn’t want to push. He needed to talk. It was evident in the way he clenched his jaw, and his eyes took on a faraway stare. But she had to let him do this in his own time, had to allow things to unfold naturally.
She reached out and laid a hand on his knee, just to let him know she was there.
His gaze met hers in the wan light falling into the room from the courtyard lamps, and he looked so bleak it nearly broke her heart. A long moment passed, just the two of them, looking into each other’s eyes.
“Her name was Karen,” he said.
As she sat on the floor, her hand on his bare knee, their eyes locked, July listened to the story of what happened to Tucker and his first love.
How a kid from a poor family had been made to feel worthless for daring to fall in love with a girl who came from wealth and privilege. It wasn’t the first wound he’d suffered. But it had been a powerful one. Setting him up to believe he wasn’t worthy of love.
His voice trailed off, the echo of pain and loneliness still in his eyes.
“I’m so sorry you went through that,” she whispered.
“Maybe you’re right,” he said, his expression humble. “Maybe I was transferring my positive feelings for Karen onto you. Is that weird?”
“It’s totally natural.” She stood up and moved to the sit on the sofa beside him.
“How does anyone know if their feelings are real or if it’s just transference like you said?”
“Awareness of where the feelings originate is a good start.”
He sighed and leaned back against the sofa. Interlocking his fingers, he put his arms behind him and cradled the back of his head in his palms, elbows out to the sides. “Talking about this makes me feel like I’ll never be normal.”
“There’s no such thing as ‘normal,’” she said, wanting to touch him again but fearful that if she did, he’d shut down. “Besides, we don’t need for those we care about to be ‘normal.’ We just need them to be able to explain their abnormalities with us in good time, with thoughtfulness and honesty.”
“You care about me?” He dropped his hands to his lap and straightened.
“Absolutely.” This time she did touch him, placing her palm on his forearm and turning her head so she could look directly at him. “By sharing with me, you’re letting down your guard, and that’s a good thing, Tucker.”
“You make me feel like anything is possible,” he murmured.
“It is.” She smiled at him.
“I still want to kiss you, July Johnson.”
“I want to kiss you too,” she admitted.
“But we shouldn’t.” He shook his head. “Because of the transference thing.”
“Not yet.” She still had her hand on his forearm.
Their eyes met, and she puckered her lips and leaned in. Dear heavens, July, what are you doing?
Tucker cupped her cheek with his palm.
She sighed and tilted her head back, exposing her throat to him.
The first kiss was light, sweetly placed on her neck, his mouth gentle. July couldn’t stop the soft moan that gathered inside her abdomen and pushed its way to her lips.
The second kiss landed on her chin, warm, bone-melting, and entirely delicious. The next traced a path up her jawline.
By the time his mouth took possession of hers, July was squirming with desire. She knew she should no
t do this. She should break away, run back to her bedroom, and close and lock the door.
Instead, she allowed her eyelashes to drift shut and felt herself float in the sweetness.
His lips were rough, but his kisses were not.
He tasted divine, like mint toothpaste and something utterly masculine. July drank him in with a desperate thirst.
Without even realizing what she was doing, she reached up her arms to encircle his neck and draw him even closer until her breasts pushed against his chest.
Tucker groaned and started to pull away, but July captured his bottom lip between her teeth. Appalled and excited by her lack of self-control, she opened her eyes and stared at him.
What she saw took her breath.
Desire for her burned in Tucker’s chocolate-brown eyes. Hungry, urgent, desperate desire that matched her own.
Sudden fear knifed through her. What had she started?
He deepened the kiss, never taking his eyes from hers. He threaded his fingers through her hair and growled low in his throat.
A surge of heat sparked in her abdomen and spread outward, engulfing her entire body.
His tongue skated along her teeth, begging for more. July knew she should resist, pull back and take account of what was happening, but her body wasn’t cooperating.
She parted her teeth and let him in.
Bold, brash, brazen, Tucker explored her mouth with his tongue.
July surrendered.
All worry vanished. She placed her mind on hold and went with her heart, every inch of her dissolving into his kiss.
This man was a stranger. A potentially dangerous stranger at that, and yet, at the very core of her being, July trusted him. The heartfelt confession he’d made about his first love, the look in his smoldering eyes, the pressure of his lips, the gentle way he held her in his arms were clues to his true nature.
Overwhelmed, she let him consume her. More than that, she consumed him right back.
Her breathing compressed. Packing against the electrical jolt shooting from him to her and back again. She bubbled inside, hot and ready.
Her nipples hardened, and her body dampened. Her blood rolled like liquid heat.
Instant chemical reaction.
Him. Her. This. Bliss.