She left her feet bare, opting three miles of pounding the pavement had gone beyond her physical limits this morning; and perhaps she’d pushed herself into doing what she shouldn’t have done. She was feeling a bit lightheaded.
Julia shook off the ill feeling as purely a strong attraction to a very sexy man, who was now seated in the other room, waiting for her return. As she retraced her footsteps to the comfort of the Tressle Boarding House living room, he stood up from one of two floral printed sofas, looking so out of place. It was apparent he’d made himself right at home. ‘Come on in’ must have also initiated a ‘make yourself right at home’ concept.
Her eyes locked onto his face. He looked tired to her.
“I am sorry about being on your front porch so early on this beautiful Sunday morn. I tried callin’ the listed phone number. But you wouldn’t pick up the telephone, Little Darlin’. I figured it best I just sat a spell and waited for you to come on back. My ride dropped me off without any regret, I would say.”
He looked to be grimacing at the thought of being ditched with no way of escape out of Hicktown, USA. Julia knew that feeling well. Preacher’s Bend felt like the ends of the earth and she’d been born here.
When she smiled, he added more. “And that sweet old neighbor of yours’ told me you’d gone out for your morning run. She said you’d be back no later than seven-thirty, as always.” A sinful grin arched his lips while he eyed the mantle clock that now read seven forty-five.
Julia whipped her head from the telltale clock back to his face, as the god-awful gorgeous man moved forward, coming to within inches of her; stood far too close inside what was still a very quiet boarding house.
Without conscious thought a large step back put a sofa between her and him. Julia grabbed the upholstery with both hands and gave him a tentative smile. Reactive measures only.
He stopped his advancement, mistaking these actions for fear. But Julia’s thoughts had been locked on even my elderly neighbors are now timing my every move? Turning against me?
Had her father put them up to it? It would certainly be something Gill Hillard, Mr. Overprotective-Father-of-the-Year, would do, just to make damn certain she was okay.
Her hand rose and she barely had the time to pull off the rubber band from her hair before he spoke.
“I ain’t one to just sit around and wait, Little Darlin’.” His tone had turned soft and alluring. “I sort of took the liberty to go on over and ask the old lady. `Course she was a bit standoffish at first, which probably had something to do with my rather unwise choice of attire.” He glanced down at what covered his torso, then smiled.
He was babbling. But how could that be? She was the one completely awestruck at his being so hot and steamy—and here!
Her fingers re-dug into the back of the sofa to steady her legs, while Eight Second Wonder of the World openly smiled at her.
“I’m sure it was,” she acknowledged. “The ‘had something to do with your shirt’ part. Mrs. Darcey is a bit old-fashioned…and a bit standoffish.”
Most of her elderly neighbors were. Either set in their ways, or just plain pain in the asses. It came with being elderly and living their entire lives in one place, never leaving for bigger and better things, in a world filled with bigger and better things.
Jeez! She should talk. Bigger and better was out there. Julia was too chicken to go out there and get it, that’s all.
Yet, throughout her complicated life, she’d heard plenty about men like this one—those whom rode the back of angry bulls for a living. She’d be standoffish too if a strange man came knocking at her door, wearing a shirt that said what his did, on a Sunday morning before the sun barely covered the town.
“But you’re more than welcome to stay and board for the week,” she continued; her thoughts headed swiftly toward ‘stay and never leave’.
Now where in the world had that come from?
Julia let go of her white-knuckled death grip to the back of her great-grandmother’s sofa, and there was no doubt in her mind her father was going to kill this one with his bare hands. But he’d have to find reason to kill the man, now wouldn’t he?
Julia Hillard, get your head out of the gutter! No one is killing anyone without there being a viable reason for it. And no viable reason is ever going to be made!
Her brain screaming at her, the rest of her body moaned inwardly to this fact. She wished there could be a viable reason. It would certainly spice up her stagnant existence.
“Ya’ll want me to leave and come on back a little later on, Little Darlin’?” he asked.
Julia slammed on the brakes; her attention drawn to his face. Leave? Gracious no! Yet he did look serious about this turn in their conversation, so she had better act quickly.
“No. Heaven’s no!” she rushed out, barely feeling her feet touch the floor, thereby her outburst producing a million watt grin between his much dimpled cheeks. The man’s eyes had turned to quick-silver gray, touched with only the slightest of blue coloring, too.
“You’re lookin’ as if you think I’m about to jump over a sofa and attack you to within inches of your life, Little Darlin’.” His grin faded. “I could go on down to the diner at the far end of the street and come on back a little later on? When you’re a bit more ready for visitors, that is.” He made a slight move for the door, hat in hand.
Julia rounded the sofa in near record time. She grabbed her early morning visitor by his upper arm, sinking her fingers into hardened muscle. Oh, God, he was just as thickly built as she’d assumed him to be. “No! I mean no.” She smiled. “I’m fine. You’re fine.” Ain’t that the truth! “Now is fine. You being here, um, you being here is fine. Everything is just…fine.”
Damnit! If she did not stop saying the word fine, she’d hang herself by her own tongue. Nothing was fine. This wasn’t fine. This was incredible! He was incredible. And she’s a complete idiot. An idiot with very little useable brain cells in her head capable of having an intelligent conversation with a man.
Somehow, she just knew she was asking for trouble with this one. But wasn’t trouble her middle name? It surely had been in her wild and reckless youth.
“Okay, Little Darlin’, whatever you say.”
He hurried a glance at the sudden death grip she had on his flesh and his dimples sunk deep.
**
Women don’t normally grab Saber Patterson by the upper arm to stop him from leaving. Normally there was never a reason for him to leave.
Normally, they grabbed him in a whole lot of other places.
Then each would apologize convincingly afterwards, followed by the sly handing over of a phone number and a twirl of the hair in case he hadn’t noticed the desire in her eyes. If he was lucky, the bat of the eyelashes came last, as though it would help the cause.
Yet there was always a first for everything these days; a first to be shocked at the action of an attractive woman; a first to even consider that it mattered; a first in a very long time for Saber to even care.
And this woman was definitely attractive: long red hair, startling blue eyes, and a cute little mole on her left cheek.
He had to ignore the sudden pull of heat that pulsed through her fingertips, as best he could, while clearing his throat; an intense heat headed straight to his insides, directly to where it could do him some hefty damage.
She let go of his arm and smiled. “Sorry about that. It’s just that I don’t want you to leave.” She then gave his arm a tender, sisterly pat. She’d miscalculated her strength since he could feel the claw marks on his skin.
Saber cleared his throat, willing his body to settle down. He wasn’t so certain staying here was such a good idea any more. The more her fingernails had sunk into his flesh, the easier it was to convince him of this lie.
Now that she’d let him go, his body’s reaction to the release was throwing him for a loop.
Chapter Four
Julia did not want this man to leave. Besides, there was plenty of
room inside the boarding house for another to stay. So what if she would need to rearrange a few things? Vacate her room, for a start. She needed the money. One more boarder wouldn’t hurt anyone. Anyone that is, except her rather angelic conscience, and her father’s worrisome attitude.
It’s just that rearranging rooms wasn’t on her to-do list for the day, when having other issues labeled as priorities.
“Can’t go anywhere without a ride,” he said, stepping away from her.
Julia pulled her gaze from his without hesitation. “Oh. Yeah. That.”
The only real reason for wanting him to stay exactly where he was, now that he was here, was she didn’t want the likes of one very sinister Rachel Rosebud to sink her claws into this man. His money was as good as anyone else’s. And she did not want to lose him on the account of being too jittery…or too awestruck! He might be gorgeous, but she could certainly get past that. And Niagara Falls was a tiny trickle over a few rocks. She wasn’t kidding anyone.
“As I said, I could come on back a little later on, Little Darlin’. Ain’t a big deal, and would probably do my legs a bit of good to get a mile or so of walking into them. Lord knows I’ve been sitting on my backside long enough.”
“You’re here. You will stay.” Determination to this came quickly.
God! She was making a mess of this windfall. And he was looking at her as if she was a stark raving lunatic gone hog wild.
“How about this? You just sit down again and I’ll go get something to drink. That is, both of us something to drink,” she politely corrected. “Then, I will try and scrounge up a big red book I need you to sign. Rooms are three hundred dollars for the week; this includes breakfast, but only breakfast.” Her frown subconsciously pinched her lips, Julia hating its presence. After this week, she might have to raise the price of the rooms. She couldn’t handle all these men and no woman in sight.
But…she’d have to get past this week first, wouldn’t she?
“I have only a single bed to offer you,” she said.
He gave her a hasty wink. “That’s very appreciative. But could you make mine a double?”
“Excuse me?” She must be plundering her way through this conversation because she’d lost track of what they were really talking about. A double what?
“The offer of a drink—a double would hit the spot.”
Jeez! For a moment she’d thought he meant something quite different, and it wouldn’t have been a something she would be able to deal with. Perhaps when the air wasn’t so incredibly thick inside the room, and she could gather her scrambling thoughts, since being able to breathe with a man like him so near was turning itself into a task beyond doable.
“I was just teasin’, Little Darlin’. Whatever you’re havin’, I’ll be havin’.” His smile turned contagious, and very tempting.
“Is orange juice acceptable? With you, that is?” Damn. She’d almost fallen for his trap.
“Orange juice is great, Darlin’. Thanks a bunch.”
A quick nod of her head, an even quicker escape to the relative safety of the kitchen area, Julia stuck her whole body inside her great-grandmother’s well-used refrigerator, hoping to cool her rising temp. He could get her this hot, and she didn’t even know his name yet? Well, there were far worse things to endure in life than having a lack of information to a man’s name.
Once cooled to satisfaction, she poured two glasses of orange juice and carried them straight to the living room. She found the man stuffing his mouth with one of her muffins. He swallowed what remained inside it, looking guilty.
“Sorry. I was starvin’ from unfortunately a late night.” The words jumbled on the account of crumbs still lingering on his tongue.
“No need to apologize for taking one of the muffins. Help yourself. That’s what they’re there for, to eat. They weren’t made as a decoration.” She sat opposite him on the other floral printed sofa. She didn’t dare trust herself to ask why his night had been so late, for it was none of her business. But she could sure as hell guess at the reason by the shadows around his eyes.
“Can I keep you all to myself, Little Darlin’?” he suddenly blurted, helping himself to a second muffin. Apple flavored this time. The first he’d tried was blueberry.
Julia nearly dropped his glass of orange juice onto the thick-piled carpeting while handing it over to him. “Excuse me?”
For a second there she’d thought he’d said “Can I keep you?”
“These are the best damn muffins I’ve ever tasted. If I can keep you all to myself, I’d get these little morsels every day, and die a very happy man.”
Good God! He actually did say what she just heard!
He gratefully accepted the glass from her hand, brushing his fingers against hers, then smiled, using all the punches by producing those intoxicating dimples she suddenly felt the need to drool over. Little fireballs of white hot lightning shot through her entire system—as he’d probably wanted to happen. Those fireballs ignited an ember in her heart pushed to the bottom for far too long.
Her Sunday stranger had lit a match to an untamed inferno, affecting her quite badly. Was she really that sex starved? No, of course not.
Yes.
NO!!! An independent woman shouldn’t need the touch of a man to get the juices flowing—and the blood rushing to her head.
She’d certainly been touched before, and more intimately. Julia was no longer a virgin. Nor was she that desperate.
Really, was she that desperate?
“Thanks, Little Darlin’,” he said, winking again. He then brought the glass to his lips and tipping it back, swallowed the entire eight ounces within ten seconds flat.
Julia sat on her sofa, mesmerized by the way his throat worked the fluid down; an unconscious sigh came out at a pleasurable sight.
“Do you always do everything in your life with breakneck speed?” she said, speaking her mind without thinking too far in advance, then gasping, once she’d realized she’d asked it …Good grief, out loud!
With a college degree and a couple of years of teaching tucked into her back pocket she certainly knew better when to keep her mouth shut and when not to. But this was probably one of those times when all the smarts in the world wouldn’t matter a hill of beans; because good looking guys had a tendency to tie up a well-educated tongue quick as a wink.
He smiled in answer to her enormously impolite question.
“Not all things, Little Darlin’.” He then focused his attention toward the living room window, in slow motion brought it back to her. “There are certain things in a man’s life that should be done at a much slower pace. Want me to name a few?”
Positive her cheeks were as flaming red as her hair by a seemingly easy comment slipping off the sly devil’s tongue, was when she heard the clearing of another man’s throat directly behind her back. She visibly jumped out of her skin at the intrusion.
Her about-to-be new boarder stood up quickly as though caught with his pants around his ankles. “As I live and breathe! How’s it been, Old Man?”
The older gentleman in question moved into the living room as the two men gave each other a hard clap across the back and an equally hearty handshake. “What’s it been, Uncle LeRoy? Two? Three years?”
The older man nodded. “Three. But you young guns tend to lose track of time on more occasions than not, leaving us withered old geezers in the dust.”
Uncle LeRoy? Julia’s brain refused to believe in such a coincidence. This man was her boarder’s nephew?
LeRoy’s unannounced entrance into the living room had forced her to stand up, but she was on slightly uncooperative legs all of a sudden. Her lightheadedness returned tenfold.
“I sure as the devil hadn’t known you’d be stayin’ in Preacher’s Bend,” Sexy Guy added.
Julia had yet to know his name so she’d given him the temporary title of Sexy Guy. It seemed to fit.
“Circuits been pretty tight-lipped most days,” LeRoy answered. “Guys tend to ke
ep their whereabouts a deeply guarded secret for some strange reason. I even lost track of Mickey for a while. Damn little twit went and got himself hitched during hiatus. He’s on his honeymoon right now, and I’m quite sure riding something far less mean than his last bull.”
Uncle LeRoy turned his attention to Julia, but his words were for his nephew. “I came into town a full week ago. The boys and I are gettin’ a real good feel for the place. Ain’t no better a place for a man to stay. The rooms are respectable. Not to mention, pretty gosh darn cheap. The food is superb. And the company is damn near perfect. Ain’t that right, Red?”
LeRoy had been the first to pick on the color of her hair and the only one to stay home and watch TV late last night, while his buddies went out, painting the town.
“You plannin’ on shackin’ up with us too, boy?” LeRoy gave a pat to his nephew hard on the back, lurched the six-feet-four cowboy forward to where Sexy Guy looked as if sufficiently put in his place by his elders.
“I plan to do just that, if she’ll have me.” Sexy Guy smiled, glancing over at Julia.
This made her blush all the more.
“Oh! She’ll have you, all right.” Uncle LeRoy chuckled. “She’ll be havin’ ya gettin’ good and fat on those great tastin’ muffins of hers. She’ll have you makin’ your own damn bed.” He grimaced playfully at the only requirement she’d put into place for her boarders. “And she’ll have you wrapped around her little finger by ten p.m. tonight. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”
Julia needed air that did not include these two highly amusing men. For some strange reason the living room walls were closing in on her. No one was havin’ anyone. Not now. Not ever! Not until she could breathe.
She wasn’t anyone’s pet, or, sweetheart. Nor was she anyone’s Little Darlin’. And she sure as hell did not intentionally wrap men around her fingers simply because of her gender. But she did have a rule about making their beds. LeRoy was right about that particular. This wasn’t a hotel.
Seduction of Saber (Saving the Sinners of Preacher's Bend #3) Page 3