L.G. sniffed the carrot. Took it in his mouth. And spit it out. Josh didn’t blame him. He wasn’t all that fond of raw carrots, either.
“Put him down a second,” Dana said, looking delicious enough to eat in the faded jeans and blue sweater coat she was wearing. “See if he’ll take it.”
The puppy picked up the carrot. Tossed it. Pounced on it. And sent it rolling a couple of inches.
“Try this.” She handed him an apple slice.
L.G. was more interested in playing with the carrot. “What do we do if he doesn’t eat them?”
“I brought some fish oil to put on his dog food.” She put a Baggie of caplets on the table. “And for immediate relief—like during the night if he keeps you up—here’s some vitamin E ointment.”
He looked up from where he squatted on the ground next to the dog, and stared.
She tucked a loose strand of hair into the ponytail she always wore. “What?”
“You know a lot.”
“Only about some things.”
“Whatever the problem is, you seem to have a solution.”
“Not always.” She laughed. He was making her self-conscious.
He liked knowing he had an effect on her. His gaze met hers. She stopped laughing.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Dana Harris.” The words came from deep within him. Not the superficial place from which compliments for women usually sprang, but from someplace different. Untapped, until now.
“I’m just ordinary,” she said, avoiding his gaze.
Picking up the puppy, Dana set him on the kitchen counter and opened the tube of ointment. She started rubbing the cream into L.G.’s skin.
“You’re kidding, right?” he said. “There’s nothing ordinary about you.”
Michelle, and the dozens of other women he’d been with over the past ten or twelve years—they’d been ordinary.
“Don’t, Josh.” She frowned.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t flatter me.”
“You think I’m lying about how attractive I find you?”
Putting the puppy back down on the floor, she screwed the cap back on the ointment and faced him. “I know I’m nothing special in the looks department,” she said.
From where he was standing, she was beautiful. Real. Curvy in the right places. With long hair that he could get tangled up in, rather than hair that was perfectly styled to only look like he could get tangled up in it.
She had skin that didn’t need makeup to look milky and smooth. Eyes that were big enough to stand out on their own...
Eyes that had real pain in them.
He took her hand. “I’m not flattering you, Dana Harris,” he said softly. “I think you’re hot as hell. There’s nothing artificial about you. Nothing. We haven’t even kissed and I’ve never wanted anyone more....”
“You...want me?”
An alarm went off in his brain. He hadn’t said that. He couldn’t let anyone need him. Not when he was living a duplicitous life. Not when he was hurting his parents. And had an ex-fiancée confined to a bed in Boston.
But right then, as Dana’s big blue eyes pleaded with him for something he didn’t understand, he knew he had to do what he could to give it to her.
This wasn’t about him.
She gave so much. And asked for so little.
Acting completely on instinct, Josh pulled her slowly forward, until her body was touching his, holding her gaze the entire time.
Her eyes grew wide, but there was no fear there. Or hesitation, either.
She wanted him to kiss her. He’d been around enough to know.
So he did. Lightly. Touching his lips to hers. Just to say hello.
Mmm. A long hello. Her mouth opened, inviting him in. And he went. Sensation exploded throughout his entire body. Sexual desire. And more. His penis got hard, but he was driven to hold her as strongly as he wanted to make love to her.
His gut lurched. His chest got hot, from the inside out.
And he quit thinking at all.
* * *
HIS KISS WAS BETTER than any fantasy she’d ever had. Josh tasted different. Sweet and minty and...God he could kiss. The mastery with which he guided her tongue, the gentle way he explored her mouth...
He was her knight in shining armor. The one. He could ride away with her into the sunset and she wouldn’t say no.
He took her into the living room instead.
She’d never been like her sisters, someone who took sex casually. But then she’d never had the most gorgeous man in the world interested in her.
When Josh led her to his couch and took her fully into his arms, she went willingly. Eagerly.
She wasn’t going to have sex with him. Getting carried away to the point of throwing caution to the wind wasn’t her style.
But she couldn’t resist the chance to connect with him. To know what his touch felt like. To feel him.
He pulled his lips from hers and that look in his big blue eyes, the one that had struck her the first time she’d seen him, grabbed her anew. The man had demons and was fighting his way out.
Leaning forward, she kissed him softly. Letting him know that he wasn’t alone.
He’d said he wanted her.
And God knew, she wanted him.
* * *
JOSH KNEW HOW to please a woman. The shy ones and the bold ones. The experienced and the inexperienced. He could adjust his pace, his appetite, to fit. And he always enjoyed himself, even if he didn’t finish.
He liked women and he liked sex.
Kissing Dana wasn’t about sex. It was about needing to be as close to her as possible.
He was turned on, but that experience wasn’t new to him. What was completely unfamiliar was that his libido wasn’t the driving force this time.
He had no intention of having sex with Dana Harris. Or any woman who’d want commitment.
Holding her against him felt right. The first completely right thing he’d felt since the morning he’d been woken abruptly to be told that Michelle had been found comatose in her apartment.
He’d been the last person to see her conscious.
It was as though Dana was some kind of healing spirit and only by being in her presence, by touching her, could he find absolution. Peace.
Shifting, he lay back and pulled her down beside him, meeting her gaze, and when he read the willingness in her eyes, he kissed her again.
The fact that they didn’t speak didn’t seem the least bit odd to him. There were no words to express what they were giving to each other.
For now, there was only feeling. Giving himself up to the new person he was becoming.
And being aware of the woman in his arms like he’d never been aware of anyone, ever before.
* * *
SHE HAD TO STOP HIM. She never had sex without a condom. Josh’s arms had tightened around her. She was lying against him, resting all of her weight on his weight. And was so on fire she didn’t recognize herself.
It was fantasy come to life but reality was better.
He kissed her again. Oh, God, she was losing it. Her body pressed against his and she liked it and pressed harder. Moved her pelvis along his thigh, her jeans rubbing easily along the fabric of his dress pants.
Her breasts pressed against the solid muscles of his chest and she slid her hands along his shirt, seeking warmth. His warmth.
It was nothing. Just touching. Like kids necking on the couch. And she was consumed in a way she hadn’t been the night she’d lost her virginity. Or any other time she’d been touched by a man.
Josh wasn’t really even touching her. Not in that way. He was holding her. And kissing her. His hands hadn’t strayed from the small of her back.
She ached between her legs and she assuaged the agony with more movement. More pressure. His body rose to meet hers. And she moved a little more, turning sideways, rubbing her taut nipples against his shirt. Their hands were keeping a mutual safe distance from private parts.
She kissed him harder.
He kissed her back and their body movement increased in unison. Josh moved beneath her, pressing rock-hard maleness against her. Her breast brushed the flexed muscle on his arm and she almost cried out with a need to be touched there. To put some kind of finish to the sweet torture. In the midst of all the movement her sweater crept up and her stomach was exposed, her bare skin rubbing against the buckle on his pants.
Trying to pull her sweater down without breaking away from his kiss, she touched his stomach, still covered by his shirt.
Josh breathed in sharply and his kiss grew more dominant, more needy, and ignited a fire inside her that drove all thought away.
He rolled over, pinning her down on the couch with his body on top of hers, and then slid sideways. He undid her jeans, yanked them down over her hips, exposing her panties to the night air. To him.
She couldn’t stop herself from reaching for his belt buckle. It was there and she needed to yank on it worse than anything in the world. Nothing mattered but getting that belt loose and those pants down.
With one hand still beneath her back, he used the other to pull her panties past her knees. And then to shove his own down midhip, freeing his hardened penis. With one quick thrust he was inside of her, moving much as they’d been moving on each other for most of the past hour.
It was over almost as soon as it had begun. She exploded. He exploded. A home run and they’d never even made it to second base.
Dana laughed out loud. She floated somewhere in between fantasy and reality, on a cloud of sensation. Her bra was still fastened, her breasts completely covered. He still had on his tie. He’d never laid a hand on any intimate part of her. Nor did she on him.
And...
They hadn’t protected themselves against sexual disease. Or pregnancy. Thank God it was her safe time, but...was Josh free of STDs?
“Shit.” His exclamation broke into her thoughts.
And Dana figured he’d just read her mind.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
JOSH JUMPED UP. Turning his back on the half-naked woman on his couch, he pulled up his slacks and fastened them, pulling the belt a notch tighter than normal. By the time he turned around, Dana’s jeans were back in place, as well. She was looking around the back side of the couch.
“Little Guy!” she said aloud. “We forgot all about him.”
He’d just messed up another life and she was worried about a dog?
Oh, God. What had he done? What had he done? Dana wasn’t the type of woman one bedded and walked away from.
But that was exactly what he had to do. He was in the midst of too much inner turmoil to be any good for anyone.
“Oh, there he is!” Her voice came from the kitchen. “Come look, Josh.”
He moved forward because he didn’t know what else to do. Lord knew, he couldn’t go back. Couldn’t undo the pain he’d caused Michelle, a pain so excruciating she’d had to poison herself with alcohol.
He couldn’t undo what he’d just done to Dana, either. Couldn’t keep those jeans up around her hips, couldn’t hold her thighs together instead of separating them. Couldn’t take back his orgasm.
Couldn’t expect her to have no expectations.
L.G. was curled up asleep in his kennel, with the door still open as Josh had left it when he’d come in from work...when was it? Just two hours ago? Three?
It didn’t take long for a new life to burn to ashes.
“You have to go.”
She was going to need things from him. He could tell her that he wanted to give her those things. That he believed she deserved them. But then she’d have faith in him. Expect things. Hope for things.
“What?” The shocked expression on Dana’s face was his greatest fear come to life. No. His greatest fear come to life was the pain that looked out at him from her wide blue eyes. “This...you and me. It can’t happen.”
“It just did.”
Hands in his pockets so that he didn’t pull her back into his arms, he said, “It can’t happen again.”
“You act like I’m going to force myself on you, Josh. I didn’t do this alone.”
He focused on L.G., until the puppy immediately reminded him of Dana, and that became painful, as well. Looking at the floor, he said, “I know that.”
“And before you assume that I’d allow a repeat performance, you might want to find out what I think of what just happened, rather than just announcing your opinion like it’s the only one that matters.”
That brought his head up. He’d never even considered her opinion. How did she know him so well already? “You don’t want it to happen again?”
“You sound so shocked.”
She hadn’t answered his question. And he wasn’t sure the implication was false, either. She was right. It had never occurred to him that she might have been disappointed. Or as upset as he was by what had just transpired between them.
“Did I hurt you?”
Sliding her purse on her shoulder, Dana glanced around, as though looking for something. “No,” she said.
“I’m handling this all wrong.”
Out in the kitchen, she grabbed the canvas bag she’d brought, leaving the capsules, ointment and food on the counter. “I don’t disagree with you there,” she said, walking by him without so much as a glance.
Josh reached for her hand. Pulled her to a stop. She didn’t pull away. And didn’t turn around, either.
“I’m sorry,” he said. He had to do something. To make things right again. And remembered something his father had said to him years before when he’d been given a small deal to handle and lost the sale.
The only real failure is to accept failure.
“I mean it, Dana.” He could tell her about Michelle. She might even understand, at least to some degree. She’d probably hold him responsible for Michelle’s comatose state. And that was fine, too. Good, actually. Because she’d know the whole truth about him.
But then he’d be the old Josh Redmond again.
And he couldn’t go back. To go back would be to accept failure.
Thoughts flew through his mind as she stood there, facing not him but the door. He couldn’t take the easy way out, even if, in the moment, it seemed the kindest thing to do.
“Hey.” He gave her hand a gentle tug. She turned then, and he could see the glisten of tears in her eyes. She wasn’t crying, though.
“I’d repeat tonight in an instant,” he said, looking her straight in the eye, “if I could know for certain that you wouldn’t be hurt.”
Her expression changed, and the peculiar energy that Dana exuded trickled back into the room. “Life doesn’t come with that kind of guarantee.”
“I know. But you need better odds than I can offer you.”
She didn’t ask what he meant. He almost wished she had.
“I have to go,” she said, pulling her hand from his.
He stood where she’d left him and watched her let herself out.
* * *
JEROME WAS WAITING for Dana when she got home from Josh’s place Thursday night. It was hard to believe it was only half past nine. It felt as if her whole life had changed.
It had gone from good, to incredible, to horrible—all in one day.
“You look kind of sick,” Jerome said, walking over to open her car door for her. His beat-up little truck was parked at the curb. “I can come back.”
She remembered—he’d asked her to help him iron a shirt. He had a job interview the next day. S
he’d told him to stop by any time after eight.
“I’m not sick and there’s no way you’re going to that interview with a wrinkled shirt,” she told him, grabbing her purse and the empty bag as she climbed out of the Mazda.
“Have you been waiting long?”
“Nah, just got here.”
“Come on in,” she said, unlocking her door and letting him follow behind her. “It’ll only take a sec for the iron to heat up.”
Company was far better than being alone. Once Jerome left she’d take a hot bath, soak in her favorite lavender-and-rose bubbles, take an aspirin and go to bed.
By morning, she’d be just fine again.
* * *
JOSH TEXTED DANA three times Thursday night, just to make sure she was okay. And when she didn’t reply to any of them, he stopped. Who was he kidding? He was texting her because he needed her.
And because he needed her, he cared that she was okay. His concern was really about him.
He felt her pain as if it were his own, and that was because she was the only person that made his life feel bearable at the moment.
She certainly didn’t need him. He’d known her a week and in that time she’d had at least two different people that he knew of spend the night at her place. She was hosting Thanksgiving dinner for at least twenty people. She had pet therapy and Love To Go Around.
She had it all together. And he was lucky as hell that he’d screwed up with her and not some lonely, needy girl who didn’t have anyone in the world to lean on.
Dana was fine. And he had to leave her that way.
By all accounts, he was not a good relationship risk.
* * *
DANA MISSED MOST of her biology lecture Friday morning. She was physically present, but couldn’t focus on the microorganisms that seemed so interesting to her professor. She was too busy fighting with herself over the advisability of making her routine visit to Josh’s house that morning.
Lots of puppies were left alone in their crates or kennels for eight hours a day. Little Guy only had to make it until noon and then dinnertime.
The Moment of Truth Page 11