Only His fg-3

by Susan Mallery

  Liz squeezed Jo’s arm. “You’re punishing yourself enough for all of us. It’s time to stop.”

  “Will doesn’t think so.”

  “Will’s a jackass,” Charlie said. “Most men are.”

  “I was falling for him,” Jo admitted in a small voice. “I thought…” She sniffed. “I was a fool.”

  Seeing her normally strong friend so defeated made Nevada feel as if the balance of the world had shifted. Nothing about this felt right. As soon as she got to work tomorrow, she was going to talk to Will and get it figured out. Yes, what Jo had confessed had been a lot for anyone to take in. But Nevada couldn’t believe he’d walked away without a word. There was a puzzle piece missing and she was going to find it.

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING didn’t go as smoothly as Nevada would have liked. She woke up with a hangover, a testament to whomever had made the margaritas. A long shower, coffee and aspirin didn’t do much to take the edge off. The only thing that was going to help was drinking lots of water and the passage of time.

  The drive to the job site ended with nearly half a mile of bumpy dirt road. Not only did the ride upset her stomach, it increased the intensity of her headache. By the time she walked into the trailer, she was ready to inflict her pain on others. Luckily, Will was at his desk.

  An unwilling victim, she thought grimly. The best kind.

  “What were you thinking?” she demanded, her voice a little quieter than she would have liked. Unfortunately, she couldn’t stand to talk any louder. “What is wrong with you? I trusted you with my friend and you hurt her.”

  Will stood and faced her. He looked nearly as bad as Jo had, without the proof of tears.

  “It’s not what you think,” he told her.

  “You beg her to tell you about her past, hear about the mistake she’d made as a kid, and then dump her?”

  He shifted from foot to foot. “You don’t understand.”

  “Explain it to me.”

  He stared at her. “I can’t.”

  “You won’t.”

  “Same thing.”

  “It’s not the same thing. Why are you doing this? Why are you acting like this? It’s not like she’s not sorry. It’s been something like nineteen years and since then, she hasn’t done anything wrong. Who the hell are you to judge her?”

  She wanted to hit something, mostly him. She wanted him to get it.

  “Are you complaining about the woman she is now?” she demanded. “What part of her character are you judging?”

  Tucker was at his desk as well. Although he was listening, he didn’t say anything. Smart man. She would deal with him later.

  “You don’t understand,” Will began.

  “You’re right, I don’t. Any of this. You might be disappointed in her, but that’s nothing when compared with how disappointed I am in you. I trusted you. Jo trusted you. But you’re a sham and you’re a jerk.”

  Will stiffened, but didn’t respond. She turned her back on him and walked over to grab her hard hat.

  “Nevada,” Tucker began.

  She turned to him. “Really? You want to get in the middle of this?”

  He studied her for a second, then shook his head.

  She walked to the door and paused, hoping Will would say something. Maybe offer an explanation or an apology. There was only silence, so she left.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “YOU’VE BEEN AVOIDING ME.”

  Cat’s words were delivered in a matter-of-fact tone, but still made Nevada wince. Mostly because they were true.

  “Things got complicated,” she said by way of feeble excuse. “After the explosion, with the gold being found and everything. There was a lot to coordinate. Then one of my friends was dumped by her boyfriend. It sucks.”

  “Men can be pigs,” Cat said.

  They were walking through the Halloween Festival, a celebration of all things fall and gifty and spooky. Booths piled with sweaters and jewelry nestled next to carts stacked with pumpkin cookies and caramel apples.

  “I agree,” Nevada murmured, thinking she wanted to shake Will until he finally told her why he was being such a butthead. She was also annoyed with Tucker, mostly for standing up for his friend, and being male and guilty by association. Seeing as he was reasonably intelligent, he’d stayed out of her way. A good plan, because she was starting to miss him.

  “I’ve been working,” Cat said. “Losing myself in the art. It’s very effective. No matter what I’m feeling, I channel it into what I’m doing. It’s probably why I’ve never had a committed relationship. I’ve never been able to hang on to intense feelings long enough.”

  Nevada looked at her. “That’s very insightful.”

  Cat smiled. “I have depths.”

  “You do.”

  The air was crisp and scented with woodsmoke, the sky blue. The leaves had changed and now were falling everywhere. No one could keep up with the piles of crunchy leaves, so they collected in colorful piles.

  Cat paused by a booth selling scarves and studied the color. “I’m glad knitting is popular again. Traditional crafts provide a creative outlet for women. As our society increases our connection with technology, we risk losing the simple pleasures that bring beauty to our lives.”

  Nevada felt her mouth drop open. She consciously closed it and told herself it would be rude to ask if Cat had had any recent alien encounters. Besides, it was unlikely she’d been possessed by pod people, which meant there had to be another explanation for all the discerning statements made this morning.

  Cat picked out a delicately knit scarf in shades of green and put it around Nevada’s neck.

  “This color will suit you,” she said. “I know you believe your eyes are brown, but they’re actually made up of dozens of colors. Wearing green close to your face will make your eyes look more hazel.”

  “Thank you,” Nevada said, both touched and confused. “I didn’t know that.”

  Cat shrugged. “I’m an artist.”

  She chose a deep red scarf for herself, then paid the owner.

  When they walked away, Cat reached for her hand. “Stop resisting me.”

  All the warm fuzzies from the morning fled, leaving behind a vague sense of panic.

  Nevada waited until she led them around the carts and booths to the relative quiet of a tidy alley behind the stores on the main street. Then she pulled her hand free and faced Cat.

  “I can’t,” she began. “Be with you in that way. I like us being friends, but nothing more.”

  Light touched Cat’s face, as if the sun itself wanted to be closer. She was simply that kind of person.

  “You don’t know that,” Cat told her, apparently not the least bit hurt by the rejection. “You haven’t tried. One kiss isn’t enough to judge by. Come back to my hotel room. We’ll make love and then you can decide.”

  Oh, there was an invitation, Nevada thought, taking a step back. “No. I can’t. I don’t want to. Cat, I’m not that kind of girl.”

  “You might be.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  Cat looked at her for a second, then leaned in to kiss her. Nevada took another step back.

  Cat drew in a deep breath. “You know this is me, right?”

  Despite everything, Nevada laughed. “Yes, I know that.”

  “Fine.” Cat linked arms with her. “I don’t understand your decision, but I’ll accept it. Reluctantly.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. I don’t have to be told twice.”

  True, Nevada thought humorously. She had to be told many more times than that.

  “You’re making this all so much more difficult than it has to be,” Cat grumbled as they walked back to the festival and strolled by booths. “Have I mentioned I’m entering my feminine phase?”

  “More than once.”

  “Then you can see how being with a woman is important to me.”

  “I can. Want me to ask around for you?”

  Now it was Cat’s turn to laug
h. “I don’t need help to find lovers.” She paused. “It’s your loss.”

  “I have no doubt.”

  They stopped by a display of earrings, then moved on.

  “At least I have my work,” Cat said with a sigh. “I’m so happy with how the piece is turning out. The vagina is so beautiful. The curves, the contrast of the stark metal with the feminine form. I’d thought of going more stylized, but why try to disguise what it is? Reality trumps illusion. I should be done in less than a week.”

  Nevada thought of Mayor Marsha’s instruction that she and Tucker fix “the vagina problem.” This wasn’t going to be good news.

  “You’re still giving the sculpture to the town?”

  “Of course.” Cat squeezed her arm. “There’s going to be an unveiling and everything. I want you to be there.”

  “Oh, goodie.”

  A WEEK AFTER SPILLING her guts and getting her heart stomped on, Jo still felt unsettled and sad. She wasn’t sleeping very well, she couldn’t eat and if she kept crying as much as she had been, she would turn into a mummy. A body simply couldn’t continue to lose that much water on a daily basis.

  She forced herself to go through her daily routine, mostly because she’d put too much into her business to lose it all now, especially because of a man. But pretending to laugh with people, holding conversations, wasn’t easy. She wanted to curl up somewhere and be unconscious until she’d healed enough not to hurt so bad.

  It was her own fault, she acknowledged, walking into the grocery store and grabbing a basket. She knew better than to let some guy into her world. While the situation with Ronnie had been disastrous for completely different reasons, the results were the same. She and men simply didn’t mix well.

  She’d been doing so great, too, she thought grimly, heading to the display of fresh pasta. Making a life for herself, fitting in. She loved living here, loved everything about the town. Now she wondered if she’d gone and screwed it all up. Everyone would know what she’d done now. The girls had seemed so understanding when she’d told them, but once the truth about her past sank in, would it change how everyone felt about her?

  She moved down the aisle. Up ahead she saw a familiar older woman with styled white hair.

  Jo came to a stop, knowing she didn’t have it in her to face Mayor Marsha right now. The older woman had been supportive from the moment Jo had moved to Fool’s Gold. She’d trusted Jo. No doubt now Jo felt she had broken the mayor’s trust.

  Jo started to turn around, but she was a second too late. The mayor saw her. Their eyes locked, then Mayor Marsha pushed her cart toward Jo.

  She had nowhere to go, she thought. Nowhere to run. Besides, why bother putting off the inevitable. The mayor was a direct sort of person. She would make it clear if Jo wasn’t welcome in town anymore.

  “Jo,” Mayor Marsha said as she approached. “I’m so sorry about you and Will. He seemed like a nice young man. Obviously I was wrong about him.”

  Jo nodded and braced herself for the inevitable “but.” Instead the mayor walked around her cart and held out her arms, inviting a hug.

  Jo stood in place, her basket hanging at her side.

  Mayor Marsha didn’t hesitate. She crossed the last few feet and pulled Jo close.

  “It’s all right,” she said quietly. “You’ll get over him. It may take a long time, but you’ll heal. We all do.”

  Jo nodded, telling herself she wasn’t going to start crying again.

  The mayor stepped back. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “You mean like helping me pack?” Jo asked before she could stop herself.

  “Oh, child.” The other woman reached for her again. This time the hug was stronger, as if she would never let go. When she straightened, her blue eyes were filled with tears.

  “Don’t you think I have things I regret in my life?” Marsha asked. “Horrible deeds, bad decisions? I lost my own child because I was too proud and stubborn. She ran away and never came back, all because of me. We each have shameful acts in our past. You were punished for yours. Don’t you think I wish someone would punish me and then say I was done? At least I would know the debt had been paid in a way that was significant to someone.”

  “I don’t understand,” Jo whispered.

  “No one wants you to leave. You’re one of us. An important member of this community. We love you, Jo. You are as much a part of the fabric of Fool’s Gold as any other person. I’m sorry your young man couldn’t accept your past. In time I hope you’ll see that’s his loss, rather than yours. He could have won you. What a prize. He’s too proud or too foolish to see that, but we’re not.”

  Jo felt the tears on her cheeks. “Thank you.”

  “You’re more than welcome. Now, put that basket away. I’m making you dinner tonight.”

  “I DON’T WANT to fight with you,” Tucker said.

  Nevada faced him across her threshold, torn between wanting to slam the door in his face and a desperate need to be in his arms.

  “Will hurt my friend.”

  “You don’t think he’s hurting, too?”

  She knew there was an argument to be had, but not one either of them was going to win.

  “Nevada, I miss you.”

  Words that weakened her resolve. She stepped back and let him in.

  “WERE YOU TEMPTED?” Tucker asked.

  Nevada dug her spoon into her bowl of pistachio ice cream. Dressed only in a robe and socks, sprawled out on her sofa with a hunky, barely dressed guy after amazing sex, she felt good. Better than good. Ice cream simply moved the moment from a ten to a ten and a half.

  Tucker nudged her with his foot. “I asked you a question.”

  “I heard.”

  “You’re not going to answer it?”

  “You think you’re being funny, but you’re not. You already know the answer. You just want me to say I’d rather have sex with you than Cat.”

  His grin was unrepentant. “I was hoping for more than that.”

  “What? That I’d rather have sex with you than with anyone else?”

  “That works.”

  “It’s amazing you and your ego can both fit in the construction trailer,” she told him.

  “I mostly leave it outside.”

  She licked her spoon. “You know, now that you mention it, my parents always told me to try something before making up my mind about it. Maybe I should have taken Cat up on her offer. She must be great in bed. You were mesmerized by her.”

  Tucker moved with lightning speed. One second she was holding her bowl, then next it was on the table and he was diving toward her, tickling her sides with his nimble fingers.

  “No!” she shrieked, laughing and squirming. “Stop. Stop! I’ll be good.”

  She wiggled, trying to get away, but only succeeded in shifting under him. He lay on top of her, his dark eyes bright with amusement.

  “Say uncle,” he commanded.

  “Kiss me,” she said instead. “That works.”

  His lips were cold from his ice cream and tasted of the cookies-and-cream he’d been eating.

  “Had enough?” he asked.

  No, not really. She wasn’t sure there was enough where Tucker was concerned. Being with him made her happy. Really happy. Happy, as in…

  She stopped short of thinking the L word, but knew it was there. Lurking.

  Not that, she told herself. She couldn’t fall for him. Tucker wasn’t interested in more than a fun relationship. While she knew he’d learned the wrong lesson from Cat, she didn’t know how to help him unlearn it. The danger signs were obvious and, if she was going to save herself, she had to seriously back off.

  “Can I have my ice cream now?” she asked.

  “Sure.”

  He kissed her again, then sat up. He pulled her into a sitting position and passed back her bowl.

  “Better?” he asked.

  She forced herself to take a bite and smile. “Perfect.”

  But the ice cream settled uneas
ily in her stomach.

  In an effort to distract herself, she searched for a safer topic.

  “The last of the gold should be gone by Tuesday,” she said. “Once they started crating it, the process went faster than I would have thought. With the artifacts taken away, the tourists will leave, along with the archaeologists.”

  “About time,” he grumbled. “It’s good that Piper Tate is damned efficient.”

  “Did she scare you?”

  “Some.”

  She laughed. “I think she would be fun to work with. She knows what she wants and she goes for it.”

  “Not always a good quality in a woman.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  Tucker dug into his ice cream. “Pretend I didn’t say that out loud.”

  “I will if you tell me what’s happening with Will.”

  Tucker slumped back against the sofa. “Anything but that.”

  “Okay. Let’s talk about how we feel.”

  Tucker gave an exaggerated shudder. “You win. Will came to me a few days ago and said he wasn’t sure he wanted to transfer.”

  “He’s been avoiding me.”

  “Why wouldn’t he? You’ve been yelling at him for days.”

  “He was wrong.”

  “You don’t know that.” Tucker wasn’t smiling anymore. “He’s entitled to what he thinks about the situation with Jo. Just because you’re okay with her past doesn’t mean he has to be.”

  “You’re taking his side?”

  “I’m saying you don’t get to dictate the terms of his choices.”

  “All she did was tell him the truth. She didn’t want to talk about her past. She told him he wouldn’t accept it and he promised he would. Nothing changed about her, except he now has new information.”

  “That makes him wrong?”

  “He shouldn’t have said he would be okay with anything she told him.”