Nola winced. “Which doesn’t connect to the front drive.”
Marc stared at something on his shoe. “Bingo. I drove through all kinds of manure and God knows what else. Not to mention tromping through the woods to find you.” He paused to look up at the house. “I’m assuming you have plenty of room for me here in Gone with the Rednecks.”
Tanner lifted a shocked eyebrow, but Nola was now accustomed to Marc’s deliberate pokes at her Southern home. She shook her head. “No way. You’d be miserable. There’s a nice motel just on the other side of town. It’s clean and well run and you’ll be far more comfortable.”
Marc scowled, looking Tanner up and down with an insulting stare. “Is he staying here?”
Nola held on to her temper by a thread. Marc could be an ass when he wanted to. She smiled through gritted teeth. “Tanner is overseeing the renovations. He’s used to the chaos. You’re not. And besides, the only other habitable bedroom at the moment is my dead grandmother’s, and I’m assuming you’d just as soon pass on that one.”
He shuddered dramatically. “Spare me. Well, all right then. Come with me, why don’t you, and help me get settled in. We could get two rooms.”
Tanner apparently decided that enough was enough. He put his arm around Nola. “Sorry, Overmyer. We’re on the way to the hospital. Nola had a close call with some carbon monoxide.”
Marc’s look of concern prompted a hurried explanation from Nola. After which Marc stared a hole through Tanner. “Then I’ll take my girlfriend to the hospital.”
Tanner’s jaw was tight. “We’re wasting time. And you don’t know your way around.” He tucked Nola into the front seat of the truck despite Marc’s sputtered protests.
Nola leaned out the window and faced Marc’s glare. “Don’t be mad. By the time you’ve booked a room, I’ll be back. I’ll see you soon.” She gave him hurried directions for how to get to town, and then waved as Tanner hit the gas.
When they were out on the highway, she put a hand on Tanner’s forearm. “Thanks for your help. Marc’s a sweet guy, but he can be a handful.”
“Are you lovers?”
Wow. She hadn’t expected such a blunt question. She bit her lip and scooted back to her side of the seat. “We have been. Yes. Marc is a dear friend.” Why she suddenly felt the need to explain that, she wasn’t sure. But Tanner sure as heck seemed to be in an increasingly bad mood, and all Nola wanted was a little peace and quiet.
The hospital was fifty-five minutes away. The ER was crowded, unfortunately, and by the time Nola finally was taken back to a cubicle, she was light-headed to the point of passing out. A helpful nurse brought her orange juice and saltines while they waited for the doctor to check Nola’s lung function. He professed himself satisfied with her health, and then it was time to pay the bill and head home.
Nola grumbled on the way out to the truck. “That was a lot of trouble for him to say I’m fine.”
Tanner ignored her bad temper. “It’s always best to err on the side of caution.”
She snorted. “You wouldn’t have gone if our situations were reversed.”
He was quiet for a moment, backing out of the lot. Then he gave her one of those intimate smiles that melted her spine and made heat settle between her thighs. “You’re too important to me, Nola, to take a chance. I had to know you’re okay.”
Well, that shut her up. Was he handing her a line? Did he see her as an unending gravy train of repairs?
She studied his profile, uneasy suddenly. “Have you ever been married?” She saw his frown of puzzlement.
“No. Have you?”
She grinned. He wasn’t going to let her blindly interrogate him. She shook her head. “Nope.” She picked at the hospital bracelet on her wrist. “Tell me about yourself, Tanner Nash. I want all the fascinating details.”
He didn’t let her distract him from his driving, but he reached over and squeezed her hand. “You’re bound to be disappointed, Red. It’s a pretty boring story.”
She squeezed back for a moment, enjoying the feel of his hand against hers. “Tell me anyway.”
He chuckled and put his hand back on the wheel. “I was an army brat born at Fort Benning, so I always considered Georgia to be home base, but I’ve lived all over the world. Went to Penn State on a football scholarship. Loved those four years, hated the cold. When I came back home after graduation, my uncle was getting ready to retire. I took over his construction business . . . eventually bought him out. He never did those generic subdivisions that sprout up overnight on what used to be farmland. I learned from him the satisfaction of finding a beautiful lot, preserving the mature trees, and building houses that nestle into the environment . . . that look as if they’ve always been there.”
She frowned. “So you always build on spec?”
“Mostly. And because of the quality of our work, the houses usually sell before they’re even finished.” He shook his head slowly. “But as much as I enjoy building from the ground up, I love old houses more. So I’ve begun to dabble now and then in renovations.”
“Does it pay as well?”
“Not really, which is why I’ll continue to build new construction. The first day I met your grandmother, I was out roaming the back roads looking at property for sale. I actually drove up your grandmother’s drive to see if anyone was home and to ask if any of the neighbors were thinking about selling.”
“And you realized what bad shape Lochhaven was in.”
He nodded. “And your grandmother made the assumption that I was a handyman looking for work.”
“But you didn’t tell her the truth?”
“I had some time on my hands. And the house clearly needed some TLC. So I let her hire me.”
As they drove in the silence that followed his matter-of-fact statement, Nola was frustrated with his explanation. To hear that he was well educated was no surprise. Tanner Nash was an interesting mix of intelligence, a strong work ethic, and a tough, take-no-prisoners physique. Brains and brawn . . . the whole package.
He seemed on the up-and-up, but something about his explanation of events didn’t ring true. As she wrestled with her unease, she pondered again the possibility that someone might have set out deliberately to scare or hurt her. But why? Tanner and Marc both had ample opportunity, it would seem. But surely no motive. Billy was so angry when they parted the night before, it wasn’t a far stretch to think he might mean her harm. And he certainly knew his way around her grandmother’s house.
Thoughts like that gave her a new headache, so she abandoned her morose, paranoid thoughts and came up with a plan.
She turned to Tanner with resolve. “I’ll have to deal with Marc, or he’ll never go back to Chicago. Please drop me at the motel, and I’ll let him take me to get my car later.”
Tanner turned the vehicle in the requested direction, but his hands clenched on the wheel. “I don’t trust that guy. How do you know he didn’t have something to do with the whole gas heater incident? Doesn’t it seem fishy to you that he showed up when he did?”
“I thought you said it was an accident.” She was upset that he would resurrect her fears.
“I’m just saying . . .” he muttered.
She smothered a grin as reason dawned. He was definitely jealous. Which was a good sign if she was at all interested in pursuing him as a possible mate. Not that she would be so crass as to deliberately play the men off against each other. But it was nice to know that Tanner cared.
She hopped out of the cab when they got to the motel. Marc’s room was easy to find. It was the only door with a car in front of it. She waved at Tanner as he drove away and then knocked on the door.
Marc opened it in an instant, drawing her in and kissing her quickly. “How is my sweet baby? What did the doctor say?”
She released herself impatiently, suddenly feeling his devotion as more cloying than flattering. “I’m fine. No ill effects.”
She looked around the room, amused in spite of herself. Poor Marc. H
is suitcases sat side by side in front of a sliding-door closet that was missing one half of the door.
Marc propped his hands on his hips. “My bathroom in Chicago is bigger than this hovel. And look at the heinous stains on that spread. God knows what they are.”
His deliberate horror made her chuckle. “My poor, citified boy. Surely you’ll survive one night.”
He sat gingerly on the nearest bed. “What do you mean, one night? I’m here staging a sit-in until you come to your senses and return home.”
Nola took a seat on the other mattress and eyed him sternly. “I told you I had business to take care of.”
He smoothed the crease in his pants. “You told me you were coming to find a husband. Please, God, tell me that the hulking handyman is not your first choice.”
Nola dodged the urge to defend Tanner. He didn’t need any help from her. She’d never met a man more confident in his masculinity and his self-image. “Actually, no . . . he’s not. I’ve been trying to reconnect with an old high school boyfriend who’s still single. It seemed to make sense . . . as far as selecting a spouse, I mean.”
“Does the man being stalked know about the will?”
She shook her head, feeling guilty. “I haven’t told anyone at all. I didn’t want to muddy the waters.”
“You told me.”
“But you’re not involved.”
As soon as she said it, she realized her mistake. Hurt, anger, and insult chased across his sharp-drawn features in quick succession. His voice was tight, and his hands clenched in fists at his sides. “I told you I’d be your marital guinea pig. I meant it.”
She joined him and put an arm around his waist. “You’re a dear man for saying so, but I have to do this my way. Please understand.”
When she kissed his cheek and stroked his back, his body was stiff and unresponsive. He was furious, and in no frame of mind to be appeased. He turned his head, his cheeks flushed. “For God’s sake, Nola. Be practical. You know me. We’re good together. Why in the hell is it so hard for you to see that?”
She dropped her hand, stunned by the venom in his voice. “I do see that, Marc,” she said softly, keeping her voice even with great effort. “But I need to consider all my options. I’m sorry if that upsets you.”
He continued glaring at her for several long, tense seconds, but finally he relented with a huge sigh. “Well, in that case, let me update my résumé with a good fuck.”
She laughed softly and helped him unbutton her shirt and pull it from the waistband of her khaki skirt. She felt guilty that he had come all this way and that her reaction hadn’t been what he wanted. But with her life in chaos and things in Resnick being so confusing, she was glad on one level to have him with her. Being with Marc felt comfortable and safe.
She should have known Marc wouldn’t be satisfied with conventional sex on the hated bed. When they were both naked, he bent her over the faux-cherry dresser and rubbed her ass. “I’ve been imagining this ever since you left me,” he said hoarsely. His fingers slipped between her thighs and found her sex.
Nola gasped as he hit a very nice spot. His knowledge of feminine anatomy, hers in particular, was impressive. For a brief second his odd statement bothered her, but then things got heated, and she forgot to worry about it.
The feel of his hands on her body was comfortable and arousing at the same time. After rolling on a condom rapidly, he lifted her on her tiptoes and aligned his cock with her wet, ready passage. He watched her in the mirror as he entered her in slow, shallow thrusts. He seemed determined to force her to his will.
He fucked her quietly, his expression intent, his arms corded with tension as they bracketed her hips against the furniture. Choking back a gasp, she half turned her head and saw his face in the mirror, his expression the epitome of lustful intent, his skin flushed and tightly drawn. Already, his chest was sheened with sweat. His hands clenched her bare ass. She steadied herself on her forearms as her breasts moved in counterpoint to his forceful motion. Marc knew what turned her on, and the raw sexual fire in his lovemaking made her weak.
He leaned forward and nipped the back of her neck with his teeth. The edge of the dresser pressed into her stomach. She reached behind her, seeking his hand, and their fingers linked. She pushed back against his pelvis, deepening his thrusts. He groaned and picked up the tempo. From the color on his cheekbones, she sensed he was near, and she was close herself.
When he reached his limit and thrust wildly inside her as they both came, her mind was a whirl of confusion. Her body sang with pleasure, but something was different this time. Was it because of meeting Tanner? Or because she had reconnected with Billy? She had great affection for Marc, but her response just now was tempered with a hint of sadness. Had this affair run its course? Or would Marc, in the end, be the man to save Lochhaven?
They lay on the bed, talking lazily. Maybe she could persuade Marc to go back to Chicago. There really was no reason for him to be here, and she felt guilty about not letting him stay at Lochhaven. But she wouldn’t be intimidated, emotionally or otherwise.
Curled in Marc’s arms, her cheek pressed to his waxed chest, she noticed something incongruous on the bedside table. Trying desperately not to laugh and further dent his pride, she reached for the tiny packet of thread—a hotel freebie—which he had clearly opened. “Have you taken up sewing?” she teased.
He rubbed a hand across his face, yawning. Heaven knew what time he had been up that morning. He lifted his head a couple of inches to see what she was referring to. “Oh, that,” he said glumly. “I lost a button off my new jacket while I was stumbling around in your overgrown yard. I thought I could transfer the spare from the inside seam. It’s the only thing I have to wear to dinner tonight.”
She sat up to get dressed, hating to burst his bubble by telling him that nowhere in Resnick would be an appropriate setting for his expensive sport coat. “I’ll sew it back on for you,” she said, feeling a sudden tenderness toward him. He was a fish out of water here, and the fact that he cared enough to follow her was touching.
Since she had missed breakfast and had eaten no more than orange juice and crackers for lunch, she was starving by five o’clock. Marc professed it a barbaric time to eat, but she begged. It was another battle to convince him to leave his newly repaired blazer in the room.
She patted his arm. “We’re walking to the diner. And you might as well roll up your shirtsleeves, or they might run you out of town.”
For all his bluster, at heart Marc was a decent man. He flirted with their poor harried waitress, never batted an eye when she brought him sides of grits and fried green tomatoes on the house so he could try them, and at the end of the meal, left her a fifty as a tip.
Nola held his hand on the way back to the motel. “I do appreciate your coming down here, Marc. But I’m fine . . . really. I know you have tons of work to do. I don’t want you to get behind because of me.”
He lifted his chin, staring out across an empty lot that had once been an appliance store. “This doesn’t strike me as your kind of place at all, Nola. Why don’t you come back to Chicago?”
She sighed. “Maybe that’s the problem. You’ve seen only one side of me, the big-city photographer who loves shopping and the theater and great restaurants. But . . .”
“But?” he prompted her when she fell silent.
“I don’t know how to explain what I feel. But I need to stay here.”
His eyes met hers, filled with strong emotion, the nuances of which she couldn’t quite identify. “So that’s it?” he said bluntly. “You’re not coming back at all?”
“Well, of course I’ll come back sometime. I’ll have to. But I’m trying to tell you that I think the writing is on the wall. This week, when I contemplated losing the house and the land, it hit me hard. I can’t let it go.”
He paced restlessly. “And the soon-to-be-named spouse?”
She shrugged unhappily. “I don’t know. I really don’t.”
&
nbsp; He was silent for a long time as the shadows in the room deepened and lengthened. Finally she reached for the lamp and turned it on. Marc pulled her to her feet and held her close. “You’ll choose me in the end; I’m sure of it. I’ve waited a long time for a woman like you. When you left Chicago, I realized that what I feel for you is love.”
She winced against his chest. Oh, crap. She wasn’t prepared for this. “Are you sure it’s not simply the fact that I walked away? You do like to win. Admit it.”
She could feel the tension in his body. He still wasn’t giving up, and he didn’t acknowledge her blunt question. He set her aside and paced to the window. The neon sign reigning over the parking lot cast pink stripes across his face. He turned to face her, his expression agitated. “I don’t think you should trust that Tanner fellow. You know virtually nothing about him. He might have staged that whole gas heater incident.”
She grinned. “He said the same thing about you.”
“Bastard.” He hissed the insult with relish.
Nola shook her head. “Tanner is harmless.” If you didn’t count his amazing propensity for coaxing her into carnal excess. “He’s doing a great job on the house, and it’s nice to know I don’t have to stay there alone. You don’t have to worry about me, Marc. I’ll be fine. And I promise I’ll stay in touch. The cable Internet guys were supposed to get me hooked up this afternoon. I forgot to tell Tanner, but hopefully that all worked out.”
“Fuck e-mail,” he said, his voice icy.
She coaxed him away from the window. “Come here and let me make you feel better.”
He pretended reluctance, but his erection was soon tenting his thin trousers. She unzipped his pants and slipped her hand inside to feel his firm, rigid length. His lovemaking had been a turning point in her previously uneventful sexual experience. And though she knew her life was moving on, inevitably taking her away from him, her body was having a harder time letting go. She wanted him. Even if it might be the last time . . . especially if it might be the last time.
He let her play with him for a few minutes, and then he took control. He dragged her on top of him on the bed. Nola looked down at him as he joined their bodies. They were both still half-dressed, and his urgency took her off guard.
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