“No,” she whispered to herself.
There was no way. No matter what the tiny hairs standing at attention were telling her, she refused to believe it was him. He wasn’t the only person in Harper’s Crossing with a motorcycle. But when she saw him slow down where Buford sat on the side of the road, she knew, just knew it was him.
“Seriously,” she sighed in equal parts frustration and anxiety.
Josh Scott was the last thing she needed tonight.
That’s what her head was telling her, anyway. Her heart and hormones were convinced that Josh was exactly what she needed tonight. And every night, for that matter.
Chapter 2
The illumination of the single headlight acted as a spotlight on long, blonde hair, huge brown eyes, and the most perfect set of lips God had ever designed. Bailey Rossum was barefoot on the side of the road in a long, red dress that hugged curves that could bring any man to his knees.
When he’d spotted Buford sitting all alone beside the river a mile back, he’d had a feeling his night was about to turn to shit. And he’d been right.
Josh knew that he couldn’t leave a woman, any woman, walking alone along a deserted road at night. But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to.
In the six years since Bailey had returned to Harper’s Crossing, he’d done a damn fine job avoiding her. Even when they’d both been attendants in his cousin Brian’s wedding and they’d been paired to walk together, he’d managed to keep his distance, at least emotionally.
When he saw her on the street, he ignored her. If they happened to be at the same restaurant or store, he didn’t acknowledge her. If they came face to face in a social situation, he looked right through her like she was the invisible woman.
For six years, two months, and five days since she’d been back he’d managed not to interact with her at all. In all that time he’d not spoken a single word to her. It had taken a lot more restraint than he’d expected. But it had been necessary. And now all of that work was down the toilet.
His only hope was that he could manage this with as little interaction as possible.
The rumble of his engine quieted as he slowed to a stop. He could feel her staring at him as he reached up and unbuckled his helmet, removing it in a swift motion. He lifted his arm and offered it to her. The wide-eyed expectancy in her big brown eyes mixed with guarded vulnerability stole his breath away.
He ignored the tickling sensation in his chest that the rawness in her gaze caused him and thrust the helmet in her direction as he demanded, “Put this on.”
A flash of hurt was quickly replaced with anger. Her jaw tightened and the vein that only appeared when she was pissed or turned on popped up on her forehead. Since he knew there was no way it was coming out to say hi because she was hot and bothered it was clearly there because she was mad.
Unfuckingbelievable. He’d stopped to offer her a ride, but he was the bad guy.
“No, thank you.” Her tone was cold and distant and she started walking away from him.
Again.
The last time he’d seen that view was sixteen years ago. Two years after she’d left Harper’s Crossing he’d gone to find her and she told him that she didn’t love him, she wasn’t sure if she ever had and she’d walked away. He let her go, then. This time he was older, wiser, and not completely devastated from just being dumped by the girl he’d loved since he was twelve years old. The girl he’d thought he was going to marry and spend the rest of his life with.
He was still devastated by the things she’d said to him that day, but he’d had sixteen years to get over it…so it stung a little less than it had then.
He pushed the kickstand down, lifted his leg off the bike, and started following behind her. She didn’t speed up, but she didn’t slow down either. Her pace was set and apparently his presence didn’t affect it at all.
“Bailey.”
She kept walking.
“You’re in a dress.”
She didn’t respond.
He knew he was pointing out the obvious, but he was just thinking out loud. She had to be on the way to the country club for the annual hospital fundraiser. So, why was she so far out of town? And why would she be driving Buford? It was not the most reliable form of…
Oh shit.
Something upsetting must’ve happened. When they were teenagers, whenever she got upset, she’d go sit in her grandpa’s truck. That’s where she felt closest to him.
He had no idea what upsetting event had occurred since he didn’t know anything about her life. He hated himself for feeling anything for her, but it was still Bailey, and despite himself he was concerned for her.
“Are you okay?” His voice was rough with frustration.
“I’m just peachy!” Her tone was overly enthusiastic.
She’d always been a smart-ass. Her dry wit had been one of his favorite things about her. It didn’t matter what the situation, she always said something that could make him grin. It was one of the first things that had stood out to him.
The first time they met had been at the cemetery. He’d been there visiting his mom, who’d passed from kidney failure two years prior, and she was there at her grandpa’s funeral. He remembered sitting cross legged on his mother’s grave when a shadow fell over her tombstone.
He’d looked behind him and for a split second, he thought that he was seeing a real-life angel. Her long, blonde hair fell down to her waist and the sun shone behind her, giving her an ethereal glow.
“Are you a…”
“Ghost?” She’d smiled. “Yep. See? Try to touch me.”
She’d reached out her hand and he’d lifted his, fully expecting his fingers to pass through hers like he’d seen in movies. When his skin touched hers, he’d jumped so high, his legs came uncrossed.
Her head fell back and she laughed and that moment was the first one since his mom had passed that he felt like things might actually be okay. For years, he’d believed that his mom had somehow sent her to him. He hadn’t thought that she was a ghost, he’d believed she was an angel. And to him, she was. His smart-ass angel, but still.
Bailey was so much more than people gave her credit for at first glance.
At first glance, she resembled a cheerleader, or a Barbie doll. But beneath that picture-perfect exterior was a brilliant mind, sharp wit, and a soft heart. Or, at least two of those three things. He wasn’t even sure she had a heart.
Still, he couldn’t just get back on his bike and leave.
His steps were heavy on the gravel and he knew her feet must be killing her. “I’m not leaving you out here. Alone.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” he commented beneath his breath and immediately regretted it.
She stilled for a second and he braced himself. They’d only had a handful of fights during the three and a half years they were together. All of them stemmed from her independence being challenged.
Bailey Rossum did not like being told what to do, being underestimated, or having even a shred of her independence challenged. It had been the single contentious point in their relationship.
What he did naturally, out of love, she saw as him treating her as if she were weak. In reality, he’d just wanted to protect her, take care of her, love her. Not because she was incapable, she was the strongest person he’d ever known. All of his actions were born out of a primal need to show her how much he loved her. He wanted to demonstrate that she was the most precious thing to him. She rarely saw it that way.
He’d try to give her his coat when it was cold out or raining, she told him that she didn’t need one. He’d tried to make sure she ate, because she had a tendency to forget to, she told him he wasn’t her mom or her dad. He’d remind her to wear the glasses she hated when she read because he knew that she got headaches, she’d tell him where he could put the glasses.
Those things all happened a long time ago, but he doubted that she’d mellowed with age.
&n
bsp; The moonlight bounced off the bare skin of her smooth shoulder as it lifted in tension and Josh saw her fingers curl into a fist.
Hoping to smooth things over, he explained, “I know you can take care of yourself. And you know I can’t leave you out here.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Thank you for stopping. I don’t need a ride.”
“Bay, I’m sorry.” His apology and the nickname he’d called her was a knee-jerk reaction.
It irritated him that it came out of his mouth so naturally. Frustration replaced any regret he’d felt. It shouldn’t be so easy to fall back into that pattern with her. Talking to her again after sixteen years should feel awkward and unsettling, not familiar and natural.
Mad at himself for letting his guard slip, even for a split second, he gruffly stated, “This is stupid and you’re not stupid. Just get on the bike. I’ll take you to the country club.”
The moment he saw her lip twitch, he knew that he’d gotten his way. He used to call it her “Elvis tell.” Whenever Bailey was about to do something that she didn’t want to but knew she had to, her lip twitched. The last time he’d seen it was when she’d opened the door to her dorm room sixteen years ago and had seen him standing on the other side of it.
She yanked the helmet out of his hand and placed it on her head. He watched for several moments as she fumbled with the clasp beneath her chin and one of the shoes she was holding in her hand tumbled to the ground.
He bent down to retrieve the heel and when he straightened they were face to face. Her breath was warm as it fanned his face and he could hear his heart pounding in his head. Without thinking, he reached up and grabbed the prongs. Their hands met as he clicked the two pieces together beneath her chin. He tried not to notice how soft her skin was as it brushed against the back of his fingers. Or how her breath hitched at the contact. Or how her cheeks flushed when he touched her.
Unfortunately, his attempt to ignore all of those things was an epic failure. His heart slammed into his chest and he dropped his arms as soon as he was sure the helmet was secure.
They both froze, staring at one another for a silent beat. They may not be talking, but there was a lot being communicated. As he looked deep into her big, brown eyes, for a moment, just a moment, he was fifteen again. Like he’d traveled in a time machine, his entire body felt transported as his eyes locked with hers. It was just the two of them. No one, nothing else existed. He’d forgotten what that felt like. To be so connected to another person. He was drawn to her in a way that didn’t even feel real at times.
“Josh,” she whispered.
Hearing her say his name aloud burst the bubble that he’d been floating in. Just like that, the magic spell was broken.
“Let’s go,” he snapped.
She stepped around him and marched back toward his bike. It was clear that she wasn’t happy about the turn of events, but that made two of them. He followed behind her and lifted the storage compartment.
The next few moments passed in a blur of déjà vu. He’d had his bike during the final year of their relationship and he couldn’t count the number of rides they’d gone on together. They had their routine down to a science.
Without saying a word she placed her bag in the box. He let the lid drop and took off his jacket. She threaded her arms through the sleeves and slipped on her heels as he got on the bike. He closed his fist around the brake, lifted the kickstand with his heel, firmly planted both feet on the ground, and tilted the bike slightly to the right before giving her a nod. She gathered up her dress, placed her left hand on his shoulder, her left foot on the peg and then her right leg went up and over. He saw a flash of white between her legs as she did and his entire body tensed at the sight then he automatically scanned the area.
They were alone on the deserted road but he still felt a rush of protectiveness that he instantly smothered. She wasn’t his to protect.
He was still grappling with that truth when he felt her arms wrap around him and her inner thighs grip his hips. Josh couldn’t fight the feeling of rightness that welled up in his chest. He used to believe that if Heaven existed, being on this bike with Bailey on the back was his version of it. The bike represented freedom and independence, and the woman on the back represented love and hope for the future. He’d thought he’d had it all figured out.
He’d been wrong.
Bailey was a genius. Not the way people use the term casually, she literally was. She’d been recruited by two Ivy League colleges before most kids hit puberty. She’d been invited to join Mensa at fourteen and earned her high school diploma at just fifteen.
Since before he knew her, she’d planned to graduate early and start college at sixteen. Her home-life was less than desirable and it had been her way out. Once they got together the plan was for him to finish high school and go to a trade school near whatever college she picked. They were going to get married after she completed her degree and live happily-ever-after.
What hadn’t been the plan, though, was for her to stop speaking to him and cut him out of her life completely when she left Harper’s Crossing.
But that’s exactly what had happened.
He took a deep breath and tried to push the past from his mind. They were ready to go, but when he looked down as he began to push off, he froze. There was a high slit in her dress, exposing her knee. His eyes locked on the moon-shaped scar beside her kneecap. Memories of the night she injured herself flooded back to him.
She’d picked up her diploma and they were down by the river goofing off to celebrate. She’d grabbed his hat and threatened to throw it in the water and he chased her. She tripped over a fallen branch and went down. He caught up to her and saw blood everywhere. Her leg had been impaled by a piece of scrap metal that had washed up on the riverbank.
He panicked. She calmly told him to rip a piece of his shirt and tie it around her upper thigh to use as a tourniquet. He’d done that and called 911 from a callbox close by. He’d followed the ambulance to the hospital and spent hours waiting with her. Her mom came and went after signing some paperwork. Her dad never showed up, they assumed he was off drinking somewhere.
He’d never forget when the ER doctor pushed the curtain to the side and asked Josh to go to the waiting room. Bailey had gripped his hand and said that she wanted Josh to stay. Then he’d told them the news that no teenagers want to hear. They were going to be parents.
“I’m ready.” Bailey prompted, snapping Josh out of his haze.
He released the brake and pulled back onto Firefly Road and promised himself that he wouldn’t let his mind go there again. It was in the past. That’s where it needed to stay.
Chapter 3
As they flew down the road, Bailey’s heart was pounding so fast that if she didn’t know that it was medically impossible, she would’ve been sure that it was going to come right through her chest. Honestly, she still wasn’t wholly convinced that it wouldn’t.
She hadn’t been on the back of Josh’s bike, or any bike, since she was fifteen years old…but her body remembered it as though it were yesterday.
The wind blowing in her face. The vibration beneath her legs. The solid sensation of Josh’s body pressing against her inner thighs and up her torso and chest. The muscles in his abs flexing along her forearms as she gripped him.
Perfect. That was how she would describe riding with Josh.
She closed her eyes and she was fifteen again, not thirty-four. The only thing that mattered in her life was being with Josh. He’d been her everything. She was transported to a night of firsts that would forever be seared into her memory.
She was working her part-time job at the grocery store when he showed up riding a motorcycle. It was like a scene straight out of a movie. He leaned against it like some sort of sexy James Dean and Charlie Hunnam hybrid. He hadn’t even been old enough to have a driver’s license, much less a motorcycle license and somehow that made the entire scene even sexier to her at the time.
He strode
up to her with the confidence and swagger of someone much older than his fifteen years and without saying a word he placed a helmet on her head and secured the clip beneath her chin.
“What are you doing here? Whose motorcycle is that?” she remembered asking.
“I’m here to pick you up and it’s mine,” he answered casually.
Then, he took her bag and secured it in the storage compartment. He got on the bike first and told her how to mount it. Once she was in place, he’d said, “Hold on. Tight.”
The first roar of the engine had startled Bailey and she’d slammed her eyes and thighs shut. She’d squeezed Josh so tight that she’d worried that she would crack his ribs. Not worried enough to loosen her grip, but worried nonetheless. Thankfully, she’d overestimated her own strength and she hadn’t done any damage.
After ten minutes, her white knuckles had relaxed and by the time they’d arrived at “their spot” down by the river, she was having the time of her life. He led her down to the moonlight picnic he’d set up for them. They ate and laughed and when they started kissing and fooling around, she’d been the one that had initiated their first time.
“I’m ready,” she’d told him.
“We can wait.” he’d replied, between kisses. “We have forever.”
That was always his line. He’d tell her they could wait because they had forever. But she’d known her own mind and she’d wanted that night, that special, perfect night, to be their first time.
“I’m done waiting,” she smiled up at him.
She stood then, and started taking off her clothes. First her shirt, which was already half unbuttoned. Then her bra. Then continued until there was no more clothing to take off.
Until the day she died, she’d never forget the look on his face as he stared at her totally naked. It was a look of awe and reverence. A look of worship and wonder. Then, without saying a word, he pulled her down on the blanket and they had their first time. It had been everything she’d hoped it would be and more.
Just One Night - Josh & Bailey (Crossroads Book 13) Page 2