Welcome To Redemption: Series Collection (Books 1-6)

by Donna Marie Rogers

  Tara hesitated before confessing, “Well, one is.”

  “Yeah, right.” He took hold of her other arm and turned her, scrutinizing first the snake and sword, then the rose on her neck. Her skin tingled as his gaze swept over her body. He lifted her arm and rubbed his index finger across the small shooting star on the inside of her wrist.

  “Which one?”

  Nerves tickled her stomach and shook her laugh. “Sorry, Wes, but I don’t know you well enough to show you that one.”

  Yet, she added silently.

  His gaze jerked up to hers. Heat flared in those blue depths even as he lifted his hands and took a step back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “Yeah, I know.” She gave him a playful tap on the shoulder and backed toward the bathroom with her pulse racing. “Lighten up, man.”

  After closing the door behind her, she leaned against it for a moment. Stupid rain. Then she remembered how wonderful Wes’s arms had felt around her on the bike, and she took it back. And what was she doing standing here freezing when she had his warm, dry clothes to change into? Peeling off her leather top, she considered tossing it in the garbage. One, her image was hopelessly ruined, and two, she never wanted to wear it again after the past hour of uncomfortable clamminess.

  Then she realized the zippered leather halter top couldn’t go in the dryer and she’d have to put it back on later. Wet. She cringed and shivered at the unappealing thought while removing her black lace bra so she could slip into Wes’s shirt. The soft cotton against her chilled skin urged her to get the rest of the wet stuff off and pull his sweat pants on. A look in the mirror made her groan, but it wasn’t like she had any other choice—and they were so nice and warm.

  Resigned, she laid her leather top across the edge of the bathtub, gathered her wet clothes, and stepped back into the hotel room. “It’s all yours—”

  Wes turned, pulling a dry tee shirt down over his muscular stomach as he faced her. His gaze swept over her from top to bottom, making her feel even more self-conscious. Then he grinned while scooping up his wet things from the floor.

  “They look a little big.”

  “Just a little,” she said dryly.

  “Let me run these to the dryer down the hall.” He held out a hand for her things. “And then, what do you say to a pizza? My treat.”

  The mention of food made her mouth water and took her mind off handing Wes her bra and underwear rolled inside her jeans. “Nino’s is the best in town and they deliver.”

  “You want to call? Anything but anchovies, please.” He started to close the door, but stuck his head back in. “And no pineapple.”

  “Sausage, mushroom and black olives?” No onions, just in case.

  “Add pepperoni to half and we’re good.”

  Tara called in the order, then stared at the phone a few seconds before picking it up to dial again. She prayed for the answering machine. Or anyone but—

  “Hello?” her dad answered.

  Her heart lodged in her throat, then abruptly dropped into her stomach when she heard the hotel room door open behind her. She looked over at Wes as she said, “It’s me, Dad, I just wanted to let you know—”

  “Where the hell are you? Charlie said—”

  Tara pulled the receiver away from her ringing ear. Wes’s brows rose, telling her he’d heard, too. She sat with her hand in her lap, waiting until silence fell on the other end. Wes frowned and started toward her, but she shook her head and lifted the phone.

  “Dad? Are you willing to lis—”

  “Are you with him?” her dad thundered.

  “Yes, but—”

  “Where are you?”

  Wes’s hotel room. That’d go over real well.

  “Tara Russell, I want you home in…”

  Tara lowered the phone again and waited. Wes’s brows rose, but she just shook her head again.

  “Tara? Honey, are you still there?” Her mother’s faint voice reached her ears and she sighed with relief while raising the phone.

  “I’m here, Mom.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine,” Tara answered. Wes turned the TV on low and sat on the bed as he started flipping channels.

  “That’s why I called,” Tara continued. “You know, in case you or dad were worried we got caught in the storm.” She didn’t bother to hide her sarcasm.

  “Your father is worried about you,” her mom insisted. “So am I.”

  “He didn’t even ask if I was okay, he just started yelling. What he needs to worry about is if I’ll ever talk to him again!”

  “Tara.”

  “I’m serious, Mom, I’m done. I can’t even live my life anymore.”

  “Honey, listen, you don’t really know this guy. We just want you to be careful.”

  Tara turned toward the window where the storm outside matched her emotions. When her mom put it that way, she understood where they were coming from, and she respected their concerns. But why couldn’t her dad understand he had to trust in the person he’d raised her to be? If she was done, she had to go all the way, no matter how hard it was to say the words hesitating on her tongue.

  “I’ve been more than careful for the past thirteen years, Mom.” Deep breath. “I’m not Annabel. I wasn’t like her then; I’m not like her now.”

  She heard her mother’s soft intake of breath on the other end of the line. Tara swallowed hard, but waited in silence until her mother spoke again.

  “Oh, Tara, I know that, honey.”

  “Well, so should Dad.” She squared her shoulders and said, “Tell him until he’s ready to apologize and treat me like an adult, I have nothing to say to him.”

  She replaced the receiver with deliberate care, aware that the TV now remained on one channel. Taking a deep, silent breath, she faced Wes, wondering what he’d say. He’d scooted back on one side of the bed, his legs stretched comfortably in front of him, his back against the headboard. His gaze didn’t stray from the screen as he reached out a hand to pat the opposite side of the bed, indicating she take a seat.

  “How long before the pizza gets here?”

  Tara eased onto the bed. “Ten, fifteen minutes.”

  He offered her the remote, but she shook her head, and he left it on the Discovery Channel. Not that she paid attention to the actual program. Between being intensely aware of him a mere three feet away, and wondering what would happen when she went home, she was lucky to recognize there were seals on the screen.

  “Who’s Annabel?”

  “My sister.” She hesitated a moment. “She died when she was sixteen—someone slipped ecstasy into her drink at a party.”

  Wes swiveled his head to look at her, then reached over to clasp her hand in his.

  And there were the tears she knew would come if she told him about something so personal.

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

  She reached up with her free hand to wipe away the moisture in her eyes. “It happened awhile ago. I’m fine.”

  He kept watching her, his thumb rubbing across her skin in soft, comforting circles.

  “What?”

  He lifted a shoulder, and she huffed in annoyance.

  “Just say it.”

  “Cutting your dad off like that seems pretty harsh. You should talk to him.”

  Tara couldn’t believe her ears. “You do realize it’s you he doesn’t like, right?”

  He smiled gently and squeezed her hand. “In light of what you just told me, it’s what I represent. I don’t take it personally.”

  “He means it personally with any guy I like,” she retorted. Realizing what she’d admitted, she hurried on. “I’ve tried to talk to him many times about how overbearing his is, but he never listens. Maybe now he’ll hear what I don’t say. My only other choice is to move away.”

  “That’s a little drastic.”

  “I’m beginning to think it’s the only way.”

  His smile faded. “Really?” She no
dded, and he looked at the TV. “Well, now that would be—”

  A loud knock at the door cut him off and Tara cursed the pizza even as her stomach growled. That would be what? Wes got up to pay the guy and then plopped the pizza box in the middle of the bed with a couple sodas he’d brought back from the vending machine in the laundry room. By then too much time had passed to ask him to finish his sentence, and he didn’t bring it up again as they ate.

  Wes reached for his fourth piece. Having quit at two, Tara got off the bed and started for the door. “Sun’s coming back out. I’ll go get our clothes from the dryer.”

  “Second one on the left,” he called after her.

  A few minutes later, Tara stood in the bathroom in her jeans and bra, holding her still-damp leather top. Where’d she ever get such a stupid idea, anyway? “Sorry, Wes,” she murmured, slipping his shirt back on. Her black bra showed faintly through the material, but anything was better than wet leather.

  She stepped back into the room to find Wes ready to go, a helmet in each hand. His gaze traveled over his shirt and the vest in her hand, but he didn’t say a word as he pocketed his room key and wallet.

  “You want to drive?” she offered when they were outside.

  His eyes lit until he glanced around at the puddles glistening in the sunlight. “Probably not a good idea with the wet roads. I don’t have much experience.”

  Tara got on the bike, impressed that he’d admit it. His weight settled behind her as she strapped on her helmet. “Have you seen much of the town yet?”

  “Just a little on the internet, and some when I drove through on the way here.”

  “I’ll take the long way to my house and give you the local’s tour.”

  She wound through the small-town streets of Redemption, showing him some of her favorite places while telling him all the benefits of the town. He’d mentioned relocating his business, so she made sure to highlight the longevity of Hutch’s Diner, established in 1927 by a descendant of an original settler and still going strong with its third generation owner. She pointed out the numerous small businesses that flourished with their unique offerings, showed him where she worked at Hansen’s Realty, told him how the town was growing because of their great school district, and called out greetings to people she knew to demonstrate the close-knit community.

  Once she noticed the roads had dried for the most part, she offered for him to drive again and this time he accepted. His start was a little wobbly, and though he steadied the bike right away, Tara used the excuse to hang on to him closer than she actually needed to. Besides, she could continue the tour if she pressed against his back to speak into his ear.

  At a stop sign on the way back to her house, she started listing the benefits of the local parks when she felt and heard Wes chuckle.

  “What?”

  “You don’t have to sell me, Tara. I picked Redemption, not the other way around. I did my homework, and I like what I see.”

  “Am I that obvious?”

  He laughed. “Clearly, you love the town.”

  “I do.” She sighed. “And despite what I said earlier, I don’t think I could move away.”

  “Good.”

  He gave a little on the gas and the bike surged forward. Tara’s heart leapt into her throat, but not because of his driving. His first verbal indication of interest lifted her spirits. She felt so optimistic, she purposefully directed him so that he’d drive past her parents’ house on the way to hers, instead of the opposite way as she’d planned. She didn’t care if the whole neighborhood saw them now.

  As luck would have it, her dad stood in the front yard, talking with a neighbor next to a fallen tree between their yards. Tara’s jaw dropped when she saw it appeared to have been split down the middle and half of it leaned over in a precarious position. After the initial shock, her swift appraisal assured her nothing was damaged besides the tree. She lifted her hand in greeting as Wes drove past slowly—though more to Mr. Streubel than her dad. Her dad’s resulting dark frown as his gaze followed them was hard to miss.

  Wes turned his head and eased up on the gas. “You want to stop?”

  He was a brave one, wasn’t he? She was smart enough not to poke the bear up close just yet. “No, keep going.”

  Wes drove past the last couple houses, and she waved to the neighbor kids who rode by on their pedal bikes as Wes pulled into her driveway. Tara hopped off right away, hooking her helmet on the back. Wes removed his without getting off the bike.

  “That was fun—thanks.” His smile seemed a little self-conscious, almost sheepish that he’d enjoyed himself.

  “Anytime.”

  She took his helmet, hung it on the handle bar, then took a deep, shaky breath and sidled up to him before he could swing his leg over the seat. His light blue eyes darkened considerably, meeting hers while she propped her hip on the gas tank in front of him.

  “I’m going to try this again.”

  Leaning forward, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his. For a second or two, he didn’t move and her heart threatened to close off her throat. Damn it. Would she never learn?

  Then his hands grasped her shoulders. But instead of pushing her away like the last time she’d thrown herself at him, his warm, strong grip urged her closer, and his mouth parted under hers.

  Chapter 10

  Wes’s entire body tightened as Tara’s tongue boldly met his stroke for stroke. He was lost—suspected he had been since the moment he’d first spotted her. His fingers splayed on her back, then shifted down and under the loose tails of her shirt, learning the curve of her spine and hips, itching to explore further. He remembered she still wore his shirt, recalled the outline of her black bra underneath, and the knowledge turned him on so fast he suppressed a groan.

  She wound her arms around his neck and pressed closer still. Everywhere she touched him pulsed with awareness, and where she didn’t, he ached. This time there was no way to hold back his low growl of approval. More than anything he wanted her straddling the bike—straddling him.

  He settled for boosting her up to sit side-saddle between his wide-spread thighs. The pressure of her hip against his tightening groin was pure torture. Just as arousing was the feel of her soft breasts crushed against his chest. He inched his hands up her back, closer to the strap of her bra.

  The buzz of a chainsaw starting up down the street pierced his consciousness, dousing his desire with the reminder that her father stood a few houses away and could probably see them. God, he could barely control himself out here on her bike where the entire neighborhood could see.

  With reluctance, Wes pulled back and slid his hands down to neutral territory. However, he didn’t remove them completely from the warm, soft skin of her waist.

  When she glanced toward her parents’ house, something occurred to him that sent a humongous wave of disappointment through him. He felt like an idiot and withdrew to rest his hands on his own thighs. A slight frown marred her brow as she looked at him. Her moist, glistening lips had him fisting his fingers to keep from framing her face and diving back in.

  He stove for a light tone. “You know, I understand you using me to show your family that it’s your life, but you don’t have to take it this far.”

  Her frown deepened, only to clear a moment later. She linked her hands behind his neck, leaning close to capture his gaze with hers. He swallowed hard at the intensity in her fathomless brown eyes.

  “I can’t explain it, Wes, but this has nothing to do with them.” She kissed him briefly, and he leaned into her. She pulled away this time, her gaze steady; honest. “It’s all you—has been since Sugar picked you out of the crowd in your lawyer suit.”

  As her words sank in, his heart rate accelerated. Conversely, his body relaxed as he gave her a slow smile. “I believe I love that dog.”

  Her eyes widened before he kissed her again. The emotion behind his last words took over and he gave it free reign. Remarkable how his preconceived notion of what he neede
d for his new life had been wiped clean in the past twenty-four hours. It didn’t matter if she was wild and crazy, or demure and conservative, she—and all the facets of her alluring personality—was who he wanted.

  The fact that he knew this with absolute certainty amazed him beyond belief. He’d only felt this way twice before in his life. Once when he made the move from Detroit to Denver, and then again when he saw Redemption on the computer screen a little over two weeks ago.

  Wes brought his hands up to cradle her face, ending the deep kiss with a few short, intimate ones. Finally, he sat back, running his fingers down her arm to capture her hand. He shifted her off the bike and swung his leg over.

  “Come on.”

  Tara balked when he started toward her parents’ house. “I’ve got nothing to say to him right now.”

  “Maybe I do.”

  She groaned, but after another kiss, she allowed Wes to lead her, their fingers intertwined as they walked. Wes couldn’t think of a single thing to say because despite spending the day with her, it now felt as if they were on their first date. The crazy feeling only increased as they drew closer, but now he recognized it as nervousness over confronting her father. His future hinged on the outcome of the next few minutes.

  “I don’t wear leather.”

  Tara’s out of the blue, contradictory statement made Wes pause. “What?”

  “I mean, I don’t usually dress like I did today. Or yesterday. No leather, no tattoos—well, the one, but, still—I’ve never been drunk. That’s me. Boring. I just thought you should know exactly what you’re getting. I mean, who—”

  He cut her off with a deep chuckle. “You’re the furthest thing from boring I’ve ever met, Tara.”

  “Yeah, right,” she scoffed. Her smile told him she was secretly pleased.

  “I don’t lie, remember?”

  From about one house away, Wes noticed her father had gone back inside, but the other man still sawed on the tree that’d been damaged by the storm. The guy looked up as they walked past. Tara waved, and he lifted his chin in acknowledgement.

  Wes saw the tree shift, then almost in slow motion, it fell toward the man. Tara gasped at the same time Wes yelled a warning. He started forward, but Tara jerked him back out of the way of the higher tree branches he would’ve run right into.