His cell phone rang, and he grabbed it out of the phone holster on his belt. “Yeah.”
“Yeah? Did your mother teach you to answer a phone that way?” Jake asked.
Vic snorted. “Yeah. What’s up? You guys miss me already?”
“Sorry to bother you, but Marisa had a wild idea right after you left. She called her friends and wants to have a small going away party for you before you leave.”
Surprised, Vic almost didn’t know what to say. “Uh…that’s really nice, but she doesn’t have to do that.”
“I know, but once Marisa gets an idea in her head, it’s not easy to stop her.”
Vic chuckled. “I believe it.”
“Come on. Humor me. I’ll be there and probably Sean, Keith and Mitch.”
Damn. “Wait a minute. Lucy Creed is friends with Marisa, right?”
“Good friends. Why? Are you afraid to be in the same room with her?”
“I might be.”
Jake laughed. “Man up. You’ve been to war. You can handle one woman.”
Vic fell back on the frou-frou bed and stared up at the canopy. “You sure about that?”
“Hell, no. Women can be a hell of a lot more dangerous than a firefight.”
“Tell me about it.”
“We’ll have the party with or without you.”
Vic made an impulsive decision. “I’ll be there. Drop me a note and let me know the time and what to bring.”
“Nothing to bring. You’ll be the guest of honor.”
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been a guest of honor at anything, and he felt humbled beyond words. “Thanks, Jake.”
They signed off and Vic stared at the phone. Then, like a sign from heaven, it rang again.
He answered the phone and discovered it was Lucy.
“Vic.” She sounded breathless. “Are you still in town?”
“Absolutely.”
She sighed, and the sound was weary. Concern touched him and he sat up. “You okay?”
“Of course. Why do you ask?”
“You don’t sound all right.”
She laughed softly, but he heard the uncertainty behind it. Where had the bravado gone? She’d flashed confidence when he’d met her in the bar.
“I need to apologize,” she said.
He stood and paced the room. “About what?”
“For not giving you a clear answer the other day. I’m sorry I was wishy-washy. I know at first we said everything was a one-night stand. Then things were so intense and I started to confuse you with the other guys I’ve known. I shouldn’t have judged you when you said women threw themselves at you.”
Warmth filled him. “I’m sorry too. We jumped into bed so fast. I wanted you too much to think straight.”
“You regret going to bed with me?”
“Are you kidding? No way. Any regrets on your part?”
“None.”
“Want to go to a party Friday night?” he asked on impulse.
He explained Marisa’s idea for a party, all the while hoping Lucy would say yes. He almost held his damned breath waiting for it.
“Marisa already invited me. I’m going.”
He let out his breath. “Awesome.”
Her soft laugh sent a coil of heat through his groin. Jesus, he wanted to see her again. Now. Right now.
“Vic, would you like to come over to my place tomorrow night? For dinner? We could talk over things.”
Hell yeah. He’d talk over anything she wanted if he could see her again. His body reacted as if she’d said he could come over and fuck her. He glanced out the window and saw snow floating down slowly. Damn it, he wanted to see her, but he didn’t want to crowd her either.
“Want some company now?” he asked, unable to silence himself. He glanced at his watch. “I know it’s getting late, but…” He left the idea, or the hint of an idea hanging out there for her to interpret. “If I wait much longer the storm will keep me away.”
“I doubt wild rhinos could keep you away from something you wanted.” She sounded self-assured.
“You got that right.”
“It’s snowing. Supposed to be a blizzard by morning.”
“I can handle it. Unless you don’t want me to come over.”
“I’d love for you to come over.”
Pure enthusiasm in her voice made him smile. “Great. I’ll be there shortly.”
“Vic, be careful.”
“Always.”
After he hung up and grabbed his coat again, he wondered, What the hell am I doing? Letting my Johnson tell my story? “Maybe you are, old man.”
He didn’t care.
Chapter Seven
Mrs. Frances Maryweather, who owned the bed and breakfast, corralled him at the front of the Victorian house. She was what his grandmother would call blowsy. He didn’t know what her blonde wig hid, but it wasn’t a very good wig if he could tell she wore one. It wasn’t that she wasn’t pretty. She looked about forty, and yet her face had few lines. Her grey eyes were silvery and as predatory as a wolf. She appeared perpetually surprised, her mouth an O of amazement no matter what he said. She’d flirted with him every time she saw him. Rather than being repulsed, he treated her with amused respect.
She put her hand on her generous hip, the jumper she wore dotted by paint stains. She’d been working on painting the downstairs washroom apparently. “Mr. Moore. How are you this evening?”
“I’m fine.” He smiled and nodded. “And yourself?”
Her grin turned from flirtatious to curious. “You’re going out in this weather? I heard there’s a big snowstorm coming tonight. A blizzard. You don’t want to get caught in it.”
“I’m not going far. But thanks for worrying.”
She cleared her throat. “Listen, normally I’m not nosy, but I heard about that fight you got into.”
Amazed she hadn’t mentioned it before, he nodded. “Wasn’t much of a fight. He tried to put my lights out. I just blocked him from doing it.”
She fluttered her artificially long lashes in old-fashioned female appreciation. “That’s what I heard. You must be in very good shape.” She sauntered closer and he stiffened. “I mean, there aren’t enough men around Clarksville like you.”
He tried not to laugh. “I’m sure there are. Look, I need to get going.”
She stood at an angle that looked blatantly artificial, like a mannequin or model at a photo shoot. She smiled and her large breasts pushed against her turtleneck. “Sure you don’t want a thermos of hot coffee to take with you?”
He grinned. “No, thanks. I’ll get something at my friend’s.”
“What friend? Maybe I know them.”
“Lucy Creed. She owns the photography shop just off main.”
Once again her mouth opened, eyes widened. “Oh. Her.”
Her cool, almost contemptuous tone took him off-guard. “Her?”
“She’s…well, there are a couple of rumors.”
He was damned ashamed to say he wanted to know the rumors. “Oh?”
“She’s been hanging around with that man who beat you up.”
He gave her a half-amused laugh. “Do I look beat up to you?”
“Uh, no. Of course not. I mean, people were saying he tried to beat you up, but he couldn’t and well, anyway…” She flapped one hand in dismissal. “Lucy’s been seen with that man. So I didn’t want you to get your hopes up.”
Vic came this short of telling her to mind her own business.
“That’s Lucy’s business, I’m sure.” The woman’s mouth opened, as if she planned to add more, but he cut her off at the pass. “Well, I need to go. See you later.” He waved and headed out the front door as quickly as he could.
Wind caught the door and slammed it behind him as if to punctuate the disgust he felt for the inn owner’s gossipy personality. He shivered as another heavy gust of wind blew snowflakes across the ground, swirling at his feet. His stocking hat, parka and thick sweater fought off the re
st of winter. He was nuts for traveling when snow promised to turn into a blizzard. At the same time, he wanted to see Lucy, and she apparently wanted to see him. He wondered if Lucy had gone back to the ass wipe who’d treated her so badly, and he hoped the hell not. He doubted it if she’d invited him over.
With that in mind, he drove his SUV slowly as the night closed around him. Two inches of snow had already accumulated in the short time he’d been in his room. Wind picked up, howling as it bombarded his vehicle. Damn, this was coming on quickly. No one with any sense moved on the roads. A police cruiser made its way down the street and drove as slowly as Vic did. It didn’t take long to reach Lucy’s house, and he pulled into the driveway. The porch light was on, and he made his way out of the car, down the slick sidewalk and to the door as fast as he could without falling on his ass.
The door opened before he could ring the bell. “Hey, soldier.” She grinned. “Get in here before you turn into a frozen dessert.”
Oh, yeah. I’d like to be your dessert. A rush of heat filled his groin as he thought about it. “Ah, I hoped you’d be interested in warming me up.”
She blushed. “Smart ass.”
He grinned as they closed the door on the weather. “I think you like me that way.”
She grunted. “Don’t push it, buddy.”
He liked her attitude and the smile on her face even more. She looked happy, healthy, and that made him feel damned glad he’d shown up. Dressed in a navy blue sweater and baggy sweatpants, she had the aura of a woman who didn’t care what anyone thought. Not an arrogant don’t-care look, but a confident I-can-do-anything woman. Thick socks covered her feet.
“Come on in before you freeze to death. I was just about to spike some hot chocolate.” She strode through the living room toward the kitchen. “Want some?”
“You bet. Not too much whiskey in mine.”
She stopped before she reached the kitchen. “Drinking and driving?”
“Yep. Can’t do it.”
She nodded, her eyes cleared of amusement. “Of course. I didn’t think.”
He smiled, worried by the sudden soberness in her gaze. “Don’t worry about it.” He showed a half inch of air between thumb and finger. “Just a splash.”
He wrestled out of his big coat, hat and gloves and left his snow boots on the entrance rug. She made the hot chocolate, spiked with a dram of whiskey. As he watched covertly, he tried not to wonder where this visit would lead. He needed to take it slow, take things to a natural conclusion, even if it meant he went back to the inn tonight without making love to her. He approached her in the kitchen as she stirred the whiskey into the mugs.
She hung her head a moment and sighed. She turned toward him, and damned if there wasn’t moisture in her eyes. She shoved a hand through her hair, and the inky strands stood up like she’d jammed her finger in a light socket.
Instinct pushed Vic to cup her face and swim into those deep ocean blue eyes. “What’s wrong?”
She swallowed hard. “Sorry. I’ve had a strange day.”
He released her face, but cupped her shoulders. “Like what?”
“Hormonal. Or just plain out of it. It’s been one of those days where things went wrong. I went over to the studio and sorted through paperwork. My business…well, things aren’t looking so good for my business.” Her voice went soft, weary. “I’m sorry. I didn’t invite you over to whine.”
His heart pinched in sympathy, and he realized it hadn’t done that in a long time. Pinched because he felt her pain down deep, down inside him where he didn’t want to feel it.
He rubbed her shoulders gently. “If you want me to go…”
“No.” She shook her head. “No, that’s not what I mean. I…this week has been kind of a mess.”
“All of it?”
A weak smile touched her mouth. “The only time that felt good and right was the time I spent with you.”
Sensing a lot more to this saga than he understood, he kissed her forehead. “Come on. Let’s sit down and talk about this.”
Lucy settled on the couch, cupping her mug in both hands. Her eyes threatened to tear up again, and she wished the day could return to the beginning and she’d have the opportunity to start from scratch. Vic settled near her and put his mug down on a coaster on the coffee table. She dared look at him and saw such understanding and compassion in his eyes that a sweet wave of emotion sideswiped her.
He sat with his arm up on the back of the couch, the rest of his body facing her.
“Whatever’s been happening this week, you can tell me. I’m a good listener.”
A smile managed to touch her lips. “I remember.” She also recalled the delicious way he’d touched her, caressed her, kissed her until she’d screamed with the joy of it. “All of it.”
He grinned, and that knowing look in his dark eyes made her heart thump. God, maybe she was glad she’d let him come by.
“’Fess up,” he said, his attention full on her.
“How was your day?”
“Excellent. Don’t try and change the subject. Out with it.”
She shifted on the couch, glad he hadn’t pressed anything more physical by sitting closer. Not because she didn’t want him near, because she really did, but because she couldn’t think straight when he was.
“Like I said, I think my business is getting dodgy. Things have been slowing down over the last year. Clarksville’s economy isn’t really recovering as well as some small towns. I think I may need to move to a bigger city.”
His eyes narrowed. “Damn, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“My last wedding account cancelled today. They broke up and that was the third wedding in the last month that I was supposed to do that was called off.” She sipped her chocolate, then placed it on the coffee table. “Like I said, it’s just been a weird month. Danny, my business…” She shrugged.
Vic dared to capture her gaze and hold it. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs. “Where are you thinking of moving?”
She shrugged again. “I’m not sure. Maybe Jackson Hole. The thing is, it’s a lot more expensive to rent office space there, and to live.”
He laced his fingers together. “Ever consider Colorado Springs?”
Some of the pain eased from her midsection where the weight of the world was sitting. “Marisa and Jake are moving there soon.”
“Jake got orders to PCS to Fort Carson,” he said.
“PCS?”
“Permanent Change of Station.”
“Gotcha. I’m not up on all the military terms, though I probably should be.”
Silence settled down between them before he spoke again. “You’d miss your friends here if you moved, wouldn’t you?”
She nodded, and weariness returned. “I’ll miss them. My biggest thing is deciding once and for all where I’m moving. I can’t let this go on any longer.”
He frowned. “What about Danny?”
Her lips tightened, as if he’d asked a far more egregious question. “As I said the other night, he’s history.”
“No regrets that you aren’t with him?”
She shook her head vehemently. “None.”
Relief hit his face so hard, she thought maybe she’d imagined it. No, it was there, clear as day. He didn’t speak for a moment. “The lady who owns the inn was hitting on me before I came over here, and she said you were back with Danny.”
Her mouth opened a little in definite surprise. “She hit on you?”
He laughed. “Yep. She’s been flirting since I checked in.” He wanted Lucy to know up front that he wasn’t going to mess with another woman if he dated her. “I’m not flirting back. Not even harmless flirting. I don’t want her getting the wrong idea. Besides, she’s married.”
A grin broke over her face as she reached for her hot chocolate, and he thought he saw relief in her eyes. “She’s known for spreading gossip, and I’d heard that she likes younger men. Even the rumor about me isn’t surprising. What they say
about small towns is true. Gossip runs the show.”
Lucy took a long sip of the chocolate, and when she licked her lips, his eyes narrowed again and she saw them follow her tongue. A slow burning arousal ignited inside her.
“Did you believe her?” she asked. “I mean, about me and Danny.”
“Maybe for about two seconds.”
She brought her legs up onto the couch, putting her body in a more defensive position. “You honestly thought I’d go back to him? Or was there a tiny bit of concern there?”
He blinked.
Busted. “I didn’t know what to think. Sometimes rumors are true.” He continued the confession. “I guess you could say I was gun shy after Shelly. I asked about Danny because for a few seconds I was scared I didn’t have a chance with you. I was scared that you’d tell me to disappear or that you believed I really could sexually harass a woman.”
She returned the hot chocolate to the table, crawled across the couch to Vic and sat directly at his side. “Not a chance, Vic. I was hoping you’d come here tonight and the snow would get so bad you’d want to stay.”
Lucy watched Vic’s eyes smolder, but not with anger. Pure sexual heat. His nostrils flared a little, his lips parted.
“Then you don’t hate the military anymore?” he asked, a soft rebuke in his voice.
“Never really did. I was just smarting from the other guy and Danny and, well…there’s even more to my military story than I’ve told you.”
His eyes turned wary, and she thought maybe she’d screwed things up by not telling him the entire story up front.
“Have you ever thought maybe a military man isn’t the kind of guy you should date?” he said before she could respond.
She smarted again, but this time from his insinuation. “Does that mean you don’t think I should date you?”
He nodded. “Maybe. If the military lifestyle would drive you nuts. It’s not easy. Some jobs, like mine, require that I’m away from home a lot. A woman like you is independent, you have your own interests and career. Your own life. But some women still can’t handle it even when they’re independent.”
Hot Pursuit: Hot Zone, Book 5 Page 7