”Don’t go there, Dylan.”
“Or what? You’ll get angry? At least anger is an honest emotion.”
“Excuse me.”
Both brothers jerked around, toward the voice. Josie stood nearby, looking uncomfortable. She spoke to Dylan. “I wanted to tell you Michael and I will wait in the car.”
Dylan straightened. “I’ll be with you in a minute, Josie. Let me go tell Dad we’re leaving.”
When he disappeared into a bedroom, Josie turned to leave.
Logan called to her. “Josie?”
She turned around and kept her voice steady. “No explanation needed, Sheriff. You’ve made your point, and you’ll get no argument from me.”
She started to walk off. Then, as if she’d just remembered something, she spoke over her shoulder. “You’re a handsome man, Logan, but you have no heart. What a shame.”
Chapter 7
On Monday, Logan’s mood still hadn’t improved any.
The first mistake he made was not eating breakfast. By the time he reached the highway and parked behind a small clearing off the road, his stomach was growling. The second was letting Josie invade his thoughts, so that he wasn’t paying attention when a car sped by going way over the speed limit.
By the time he caught up with the driver and issued him a ticket, Logan decided he had to talk to her. He’d had no right to discuss Josie with Dylan like that. If his brother decided to see her it was none of Logan’s business.
An hour and three speeding tickets later, Logan headed back to his office.
The minute he walked through the door, his deputy, Xavier, looked up from his paperwork and nodded a greeting. Logan nodded back and walked over and picked up the phone messages, which lay on top of his desk. He was aware that Xavier and the dispatcher had stopped what they were doing and stared openly at him. Logan ignored them and continued to check his messages.
One was from Elena, inviting him over for dinner. When he read the last message, he knew why the men were staring at him. One of them had conveniently placed Maya Rivera’s phone message on the bottom. The time noted on the pink slip showed that she’d called at 1:00 p.m. -- five minutes ago.
He took a deep breath. Maya must have seen him driving past her place on his way back to the station. He glanced at the two men, who suddenly got very busy.
Frustrated, running fingers through his hair, Logan stared at the phone. He was in no mood to deal with Maya today. Her twice-a-week calls were getting on his nerves. The argument with his brother yesterday—and the fact that he had no love-life to speak of, and would probably never have one unless he faced up to what was really eating at him—all came down to one thing. He was going to end up a lonely old man. Even his ex-wife had gone on with her life.
The phone rang, and he snatched up the receiver. As soon as he answered it, he turned his back on the men and stared vacantly out the window.
When the person on the other end finished rambling, he counted to three. It didn’t do any good. He’d had it!
“Listen, Maya, I don’t have the time to come over and baby-sit your damn cat again. Either you get the son of a bitch neutered, or I’m gonna shoot him.”
There was a shrill scream on the other end, and then the line went dead. Logan slammed the phone down and reached over to pick up a file. For a moment, the silence in the office was deafening. Then chuckles erupted, first from Xavier, then the dispatcher, until they were laughing uncontrollably.
Logan’s dark mood lightened as he thought of how he must have sounded to Maya. Maybe he wouldn’t be hearing from her again. He could only hope.
He threw both men a disgusted glare. “I would never shoot a cat. You know that.”
Xavier stopped laughing long enough to mutter, “Yes, we know that, but by the time Maya gets through telling everyone what you said, there won’t be anyone at the fiesta who will dance with you.”
Logan threw the file back on his desk, picked up his car keys and his sunglasses, and stood up. By the time he reached the door, the men were laughing uproariously. He slammed the door on his way out.
“Wiseasses,” he muttered.
Josie had just finished braiding her hair. She stood and walked over to the closet. No jeans today. Today called for something special. She reached for a black linen skirt that had a slit partway up the front, and a white blouse. Too warm for hose, she slipped on black leather sandals and grabbed her purse.
Michael had gone to a movie with two of Consuelo’s cousins, and would be gone for several hours, more than enough time for Josie to conduct her business.
She hurried down the stairs, nodded to Juana on the way out, and almost collided with Ben.
“Sorry,” she muttered as she skirted around him and kept on going.
He fell in step beside her. “Hey, where’s the fire?”
Josie answered by picking up speed. After her visit with Consuelo, she’d tossed and turned all night. She was in no mood for chitchat, especially with Ben. Each time he approached her he asked her out, and she was running out of excuses.
“You sure look pretty today.”
She shrugged off the compliment. Some people couldn’t take a hint. She continued to march staunchly down the sidewalk. At the end of the block, she was forced to stop for a red light.
An old Chevy sputtered past them. It was Ignacio Flores’s. She could tell by the crooked old hubcap, which squeaked. He honked, and she waved back. He really needs to get that tire fixed, she thought.
The light turned green and Josie stepped off the curb, aware that Ben obviously had nothing better to do than follow her around. She continued to ignore him.
Now and then, someone recognized her and called out a greeting as she passed by. Most of them were people who often ate at the restaurant.
She had to admit that Sandera seemed a quiet innocent town—a town quite out of step with the rest of the world. She looked around and realized she liked its rustic appeal, shocked to discover an odd feeling of familiarity, of belonging there. Watch it, she thought, if you’re not careful, you’re going to miss this place.
“Going anywhere special?”
Ben’s persistence was getting on her nerves. She glared at him.
“I’m on my way to rob the bank, and unless you plan to help you’d better stay out of my way.”
Ben broke stride, then stopped, his jaw wide open.
Josie wanted to laugh. Ben actually believed her. What was it about her? Why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut? When she was nervous, she always spouted the first thing that came to her mind. Hadn’t Logan hinted as much just before he’d kissed her?
She stopped and opened one of the double glass doors to the bank.
“What?”
Ben took off his baseball cap and scratched his head. “Yeah, that’s what she said. She’s on her way to rob the bank.”
“And you believed her?” Logan opened his car door and threw his hat onto the passenger seat.
“That’s what she said. I know what I heard,” Ben said, taking a defensive stance.
“Did you try to talk her out of it?”
“Well, no. I came straight to you.”
Logan shook his head and sighed, but decided not to press the issue. “I’ll take care of it.”
“You want me to go with you? Being as how I’m a witness, and all?”
Logan got into his car. “You’re not a witness unless you’re there and see her actually rob the bank, Ben.” He inserted his key into the ignition. “I’ll go over there and look into it.”
Ben held on to the door. “You sure you don’t want me to go along?”
“I think I can handle one petite woman,” Logan said as he pried the door from Ben’s fingers and closed it.
“Let me know how it goes!” Ben shouted as the car pulled out onto the street.
The bank was only a few blocks away. Logan doubted that Josie would actually rob a bank. Hell, she had turned down a loan from him, interest free. He had to admit, though
, that he didn’t actually know her that well.
Arriving at the bank, he pulled over and jerked to a stop in front of a no-parking zone.
He spotted her the moment he stepped inside. She was speaking to a loan officer, looking much too calm to be planning a robbery, and he wondered again if Ben had heard right. It wouldn’t hurt to make sure.
Standing just inside the door was Tom, the bank’s security guard. Logan nodded a greeting as he made his way to one of the teller cages, close to where Josie sat.
“Well, Josie, I’d like to help you. But without collateral, I don’t see how I can. Now, if your permanent address was here in Sandera, and someone could vouch for you or even co-sign for you, I wouldn’t have any qualms about lending you the money.”
“I understand,” said Josie, clutching her purse. “In the meantime, I’d like to open an account with your bank.” It would be her first savings account.
“I’ll be glad to help you out with that. How much do you want to deposit?”
Logan felt like a fool for eavesdropping. He should have known Ben wouldn’t get his story straight. He started to leave, but a voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Hey, Logan, how are you today?” It was Martha, one of the tellers.
“Yes, Sheriff, I’d like to know, too,” Josie said through tight lips.
Logan crossed his arms across his chest and stared down at her. “I just dropped in to...meet someone.”
“Oh? And who might that be? I might know them.” Her tone indicated she didn’t believe him.
“Actually it was you I came to see,” he confessed, ignoring her sarcasm.
“I see.”
“Ben sent me,” he said with just a hint of amusement. “He said you might need a lift home.”
She opened her mouth to tell him she needed no such thing, but she never got the chance. A bright yellow shaft of sunlight glaring through a window reflected off steel, forcing Josie to squint. She looked to see who was wearing such bright jewelry.
A wave of panic hit Josie like a padded fist. Not ten feet away stood a man who wore a Mexican silver belt buckle.
Josie opened her mouth to speak, but her throat muscles froze. Her hand flew to her mouth.
Logan closed the gap between them. “What is it?” he asked.
She shook her head, still unable to speak. Couldn’t he see, couldn’t they all see, that the man didn’t look like the kind who’d even have a bank account?
Panicked, she moved closer to Logan. “It’s him,” she finally choked out.
“Who, Josie?” He looked to see who had frightened her.
“That man–the one with the belt buckle. He stole my car.”
Logan didn’t waste any time or words. He hurried over and stopped in front of the man. “Get over against that wall,” he ordered.
The man held up his hands and rattled off something in Spanish. A younger man stepped out of the line.
“Señor, this man is my uncle. He doesn’t speak English very well.”
Josie shook her head with despair as she realized she’d made a mistake. It was the same belt, but a different man who stood there. This man was older, stockier, his hair curlier.
“He’s not the one,” she said, embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you sure?” Logan asked gently.
Josie nodded. “It was the belt. I recognized the belt.”
“Those buckles are popular, Josie. A lot of men wear them.”
“It looked like him.” She crossed her arms over her chest, willing herself to stop shaking.
“Josie, the man who robbed you is probably in Mexico by now. If he’s still on the U.S. side, we’ll find him and his accomplice.”
Josie couldn’t stop trembling.
“Let’s go,” Logan ordered, touching her shoulder in an attempt to calm her.
Later, when he passed up the turn to Consuelo’s, she asked him where they were going.
He took his attention from the road for a second. “My place is just down this road. I thought you might need some time before you face Michael.” He looked away. “In the state you’re in now, you’re liable to worry him.”
Josie stared out the window. He was right. She needed to compose herself before she faced her son and Consuelo.
When he pulled into his driveway, Josie said, “I thought you lived with your father and brother.”
He held the door open for her. “I keep some of my clothes over there, but this is where I live.”
He closed the door and slipped past her on the way to the kitchen. Josie stood in the living room and wondered if this was the same home where he and his wife had lived with the child who had died.
The first thing she noticed was that his home was practical, simple, and comfortable. No frills, just signs of the practicality of a man who spent little time at home.
“Would you like coffee, or tea?” he called over his shoulder on his way into the kitchen.
“Tea will be fine. Thanks.”
“Have a seat.”
She felt awkward following him into the kitchen, so she chose the couch. When he brought her tea, he sat down beside her. They sat that way for a while, in companionable silence, while Josie sipped the tea and stared at the floor. Finally, she set her cup down on the coffee table and glanced at him.
“A penny for your thoughts,” he said quietly.
She smiled wistfully, and rose. How did one go about discussing a subject as delicate as the death of a child? There was really no easy way.
“I know,” she finally said, looking at him.
“Know what?”
“About Stevie.”
For a moment the silence was deafening, and she closed her eyes, wanting to tell him that she understood why he couldn’t be around Michael.
He shrugged and stood up. “You were bound to find out sooner or later.”
Josie walked over to look at a photograph hanging on the wall above the television set. It was a family portrait, and she again saw the child who looked so much like her own little boy.
“It wasn’t Dylan,” she said calmly. “It was Consuelo. She told me after I accused you of hating children, especially mine.”
“I don’t dislike children, Josie. His voice dropped to a whisper, and he reached out and rested his palm on the wall in front of her, hemming her in.
“I know that now.”
Seconds ticked by, and neither of them made a move. He didn’t have to touch Josie for her to know that she was dangerously close to turning and falling into his arms, was definitely close to making a fool of herself.
Either way, she had to do something.
She turned to face him.
There was something in his eyes that called to her, something that caused her to take a step closer. In them, she saw pain and sorrow and desire. A yearning so strong came welling up from somewhere deep inside her that it made her catch her breath. And he hadn’t even touched her yet.
What would it feel like to yield and enjoy the attraction between them?
It couldn’t hurt.
Just this once.
Obeying the impulse, she leaned her body in toward him.
“Josie.” He made her name sound like a soft caress. Lowering his head, he touched her mouth with his own, guiding her into the kiss.
Josie strained closer. All the pent-up anguish and sadness and desire came bubbling up, catching her off guard. The sensations were so overwhelming that her arms tightened around his neck, demanding more of his closeness. She opened her mouth wider to receive his tongue.
Logan’s strong hands crept to her waist and lifted her off her feet. Then he gently sat her down on top of the floor-based television set. The action caused her skirt to ride back, and Josie opened her thighs to allow him to fit himself more comfortably against her.
Her blouse was tucked half in, half out of her skirt, and he freed the rest of it, trailing his palm slowly up her back and around to the front. Gently pushing her bra aside, his fingers close
d around one taut breast, and she moaned into his mouth.
Never had Josie felt so strong a need for a man. The fact that Logan was the man who made her senses cry for release caused her a momentary pang, but as his hands moved lower toward her belly, she forgot about everything but how much she needed him.
“God, Josie, I want you, bad,” he whispered into her mouth. He used every ounce of willpower he had not to take her right there on the television set. Reality and honesty forced him to make a decision. “We can’t. I don’t have any protection.” He groaned, angry with himself. He wasn’t prepared because he’d never meant to make love to Josie. His heart thudded with regret.
Josie went still as his words hit her like the wild clanging of a bell. She groaned, embarrassment flooding through the very parts of her that still needed him.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped, still holding on to her.
Josie stiffened. “I...would you help me down, please.”
Later, much later, Josie was sure she would breathe a sigh of relief that they hadn’t made love, but right then she just wanted to forget that she’d come close to making one of the biggest mistakes of her life.
She silently repeated her mantra: E-T-A – Emergency Temporary Arrangement. It had gotten her this far.
By the time Logan pulled into Consuelo’s parking lot, Josie already had her hand on the door handle. She stepped out of the car and muttered, “Thanks for the ride.”
As he drove away, she muttered, “What there was of it.”
Logan slapped the steering wheel, causing it to honk. What was it about her that brought him to the brink of anger and desire at the same time? He’d known that once he started kissing her, it would be hard to stop. He also knew that if he’d had protection they would be in his bed right now. He groaned, envisioning himself inside her.
It was just as well they hadn’t gone through with it, he thought. He would do well to remember that she was off-limits to him. Sooner or later, she would leave, and he knew he couldn’t bear the pain of losing another person he loved.
His pain was still too raw, too open, and he couldn’t risk getting involved with Josie.
Destination: Love (The Sandera, Texas Series) Page 8