by Alison Kent
A groan escaped her lips, snapping her back to reality. In a flash, the roaring in her ears stopped and the sounds of life returned. The sharp clack of her kitchen clock beat out the minutes as she pulled back first emotionally, then physically.
She nudged his shoulders. “Austin, stop.”
He did, just as she knew he would. He was rock solid and never used force, except for that one time she’d found the two ties he owned and asked him to go all he-man on her.
In slow motion, his arms slid against her sides until his hands dropped to her hips. “You okay?”
Stupid and half-dizzy from kissing him. Other than that, terrible. When a woman got knocked off her feet from the touch of a guy’s lips, she wanted the feeling all the time. Knowing this was a temporary thing filled her with a flulike weakness that reached into her bones.
She cleared her throat. “Of course.”
“Should I apologize?”
She stared into eyes the color of a cloudless summer day. “Are you sorry?”
“No.”
She waited for the slap of regret to hit her but it never came. She could at least have this moment. Savor it. “Me either.”
His hands clenched into fists against her as if he was forcing his fingers not to hold on too tight. “Then?”
Stepping out of his arms was like ripping a strip of skin off an inch at a time. She almost screamed in pain as she left the warm circle of his body.
“I have to go to work.”
He nodded. “Ah, yes. The museum.”
Sadness crawled over her. She felt it spread until it infected everything. “I don’t want to fight with you about this.”
“Makes two of us.”
“I know my career means nothing to you.”
“Oh, Carrie. Come on.” He threw his head back and stared at the ceiling. “That’s not fair.”
“This is my dream job. A position at a prestigious museum, mixing with people in the art world. Being close to masterpieces and seeing works some people will only ever experience in a textbook.” When he finally gave her eye contact again, she poured all her intensity into the words to get him to understand. “I get to live them, to stand there, feeling the artist’s emotions wash over me.”
“Okay.”
The air rushed out of her, taking her last bit of hope along with it. She’d struggled to find a new way to make him understand and failed again. “Forget it.”
She’d left Holloway specifically to avoid scenes like this. She would explain and he would close down. He didn’t say it, but she knew he viewed working in a museum as a hobby she would outgrow. That she’d fall into line and come rushing home again.
Rather than fight, she headed for the bedroom. This was her turf and she could abandon the fight if she needed, and with her emotions so close to the surface she needed to.
“Hey, wait a second.” With a gentle tug, he turned her around until they faced each other again. “All I said was okay and you’re running.”
“Austin, come on. This part of my life doesn’t mean anything to you. You’ve never spent even one second getting to know what the work means to me.”
“It’s your world, not mine. I don’t sit and talk about tree climbing with you.”
She laid a hand against his chest and felt the steady thump of his heart beneath her fingers. “Do you really think it’s the same thing?”
“Isn’t it?”
“Okay, look. I can’t do this. I have responsibilities and I have to get to them.” She stepped back and fought the urge to run.
He exhaled, blowing a warm breath across her cheek. “Don’t use that excuse. Talk to me.”
These discussions never got them anywhere. They went around in circles, throwing out the same accusations and arguments. The spark between them hadn’t died but it wasn’t enough to hold them together either.
He had to leave before she lost it.
“Thanks for the coffee, but for the future, I don’t need a wake-up call. I bought a latte maker when I moved in here.” She kissed him on the cheek and reached out for the wall behind her to keep from sliding to the floor.
“Mary Cassatt.”
Everything inside her froze. It took all her strength to turn her head and look at him. “What?”
“Right now you’re in charge of a lecture series surrounding the Mary Cassatt exhibit at the National Museum of Women in the Arts.”
“How did you—”
He picked up his coffee cup off the counter. “I haven’t spent more than ten minutes in a museum in my life. A discussion about art makes me look for a pen to stab in my eye sockets. Honestly, I’d rather watch soccer than hear anything about an artist ever, which should tell you something since I find soccer pretty boring.”
Without even trying he listed some of the stumbling blocks between them. “See, that’s what—”
“But it matters to you, so I made it a priority to know something about it.”
The words slashed against her. “Since when?”
“Since you walked out and I realized I’d do anything to get you back.” The flatness of his voice matched the bleak despair in his eyes.
“Austin.”
He pointed toward the kitchen. “There’s a salad at the bottom of the bag. From the look of you, you’ve been skipping lunch. Maybe that’s a city thing, but you’re beautiful without some damn diet. Eat.”
Then he was gone and the hollowness in her stomach enveloped her.
Chapter Four
Carrie made it the whole way to the next evening before seeing Austin. Not that she was hunting him down or anything. Not that their talk yesterday ran through her mind all damn day until she had to give her cell to her intern to keep from calling him. She only skipped the gym and headed straight for the lot after work to check out the tree supply. Yep. That was her story.
Bundled in her coat and wearing the oh-so-sexy combination of a conservative navy skirt and white sneakers, she crossed the side street, dodged around a car that had been illegally parked near the building for two days, and passed under the string of white lights outlining the tree lot.
A group of people gathered around Austin. Being six feet, he towered over most as he laughed and smiled and generally wooed them with a story about a bobcat and tractor. His enthusiasm was infectious. When he laughed, her insides warmed.
His rapt audience smiled and clapped…wait, audience? Make that his posse of women.
Over the steady thrum of traffic, Carrie scanned the lot in search of men other than the Thomas brothers and couldn’t find one. Funny how all the women in the neighborhood congregated at this lot. Who knew there even were this many twenty-something women in the area?
“Little Carrie Anders.” Spence gave his welcome from right behind her left shoulder.
The richness of his voice flooded her with an unexpected kick of longing. Something about him, seeing the brothers together, made her miss home.
“Spence.”
“Good to see you, babe.” He followed up the greeting with a strangling brother hug then set her away from him.
“Austin dragged you into this crazy plan, too?” The idea made her smile since Spence wasn’t exactly the romantic type.
He groaned. “You’d think I’d be smarter than to get wrapped up in his mess.”
“I’ve never been called a mess before.”
Spence winked. “But you are a very lovely mess.”
“Is Mitch hiding around here somewhere?”
“No, your brother is the real smart one in this scenario. He and my dad are running the place at home while we’re here…” Spence swallowed his smile.
“Checking on me?”
“Let’s go ahead and say it that way since it makes Austin seem more like a concerned boyfriend than a crazed stalker.”
She let the label pass. No need to throw “ex” around. “Austin is determined but not a stalker.”
“I’m happy you think so. That will save a lot on lawyer fees.”
Carrie’s good mood faded when she spied a woman hanging on his arm as he pointed to a tree. Carrie tore her gaze away from the big flirtation scene. She’d broken it off with Austin. That meant he could date, she could date…but surely he could see through that woman’s fake laugh and even faker boobs.
Spence shifted his weight. The move put his body right in her line of sight. Since peeking around him seemed a bit over the top, Carrie stayed put.
“I’m just hoping Dad doesn’t burn down the place by accident while we’re gone,” Spence said.
Carrie wondered if the comment amounted to another attempt to guilt her home. When he stared at her with those blue eyes so like his brother’s and an expression somewhere between amusement and horror, she decided he was imagining what the office would look like when he returned.
Karl Thomas had raised two teen boys on his own. Picking up and vacuuming weren’t exactly his priorities. He hadn’t changed much now that Spence and Austin were adults, but his business success couldn’t be questioned. He’d taken an overgrown piece of property and turned it into a thriving business that supported numerous employees and served four states.
Landscapers, designers, homeowners and fellow business folks came to Thomas Nurseries for help. Add in Austin’s specialty as an arborist in managing the health and stability of plants and trees, and his contracts with the state, utility companies and the U.S. Forest Service, and they had everything from simple gardening to arboriculture to botany covered.
“Your dad ran the farm and business without you for years, so I’m thinking he can handle a few days,” she said.
“You think Austin only plans to be here for a few days?”
Her stomach did a bounce against the hard ground. “Uh, yeah. I assumed this was a short-term offensive strike.”
“You’re kidding.”
“So, weeks?”
Spence shook his head. “Either way, Dad’s history is not as comforting to me as you might think.”
A lot could change in six months, including someone’s health. That thought sent panic spinning inside her. “Is he okay?”
Spence waved off her concerns. “Exactly the same. Ornery, driven and now, damn my luck, demanding a grandkid.”
A laugh bubbled up before she could control it. “From you?”
“I’m capable.”
“Of producing one or raising one?”
The area around Spence’s mouth turned green. “Now that I think about it, neither. I’ll keep practicing the method where I don’t produce one.”
“Probably wise.”
Horns honked as three more women crossed the street on their way to the lot. No sneakers in this group. One had bare legs and four-inch heels. Carrie almost laughed. Yeah, those were perfect for this weather. The woman would have hypothermia in an hour if she didn’t find some socks.
“You guys seem to be doing well.” Carrie tried to block the grumbling she felt from sneaking into her voice.
“I gotta hand it to Austin. He’s had a steady stream of customers all day.” Spence crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels. “Apparently women like him. Who the hell knew?”
“I can think of a few people.”
Spence leaned in as if telling a big secret. “I swear one woman has already bought two trees.”
Well, wasn’t that just terrific. “How festive of her.”
“He should be done in a second. I know you’re not used to being the one waiting, but Austin doesn’t take long to close a deal.”
“Okay.” She turned Spence’s words over in her mind. “Wait. What does that mean?”
A woman tugged on Spence’s arm and he shot her that flirty Thomas smile before turning his focus back to Carrie. “I have to handle this.”
It seemed handling women was a Thomas male specialty all of a sudden.
Austin steered the handsy woman with the low-cut sweater to a display of six-foot Douglas firs and snuck away. He’d hear her throaty giggle in his sleep. He could appreciate women of all sizes and types but this one freaked him out. So did the way she looked twenty years old from a distance and at least fifty close up.
Then there was the ass tap. He could have done without that. He didn’t exactly run from her now, but he did double-time his retreat just in case those fingernails came out again.
The one woman he wouldn’t mind touching his ass stood near the office shed. He wondered if Carrie realized she tapped her foot hard enough to create a divot in the frozen ground. Two seconds ago she’d been smiling and laughing with Spence. Now she had that unfocused look that meant she was thinking. Austin knew it probably also meant he’d done something wrong.
No need to pretend not to see her since he’d traveled to D.C. to find her. She knew the score and hard-to-get wasn’t his thing. That was a woman trick. A smart man let himself get caught. He waved as he walked but dropped his hand when she didn’t return the greeting.
Oh, boy.
Despite yesterday’s big kiss, he kept the greeting professional. “Are you looking for a tree?”
“I better since you’ll be sold out soon.”
He glanced at the mound of trees stacked around the lot. “How do you figure that?”
“You have nonstop interest around here.”
“Apparently the residents of D.C. like nice trees.” He didn’t even know what they were talking about anymore. She seemed a bit on edge for a discussion about future firewood.
“Like her?” Carrie’s attention focused over his shoulder.
He turned and saw the handsy customer standing at the edge of the tree display and staring him down. “I’m not sure she’s here for a tree.”
Carrie shot him a men-are-so-dumb look. “Gee, really?”
That flat tone usually meant he’d done something stupid and male and he had about ten minutes to figure it out before she went all Medusa on him. “Why do I think I’m in trouble?”
“She gave you her number.” Carrie nodded at his closed hand.
He opened it, palm up, and showed her the paper ball inside. “It’s for the sales receipt.”
The excuse was lame but no way was he going down for this. He hadn’t done anything wrong except separate from the woman without shoving her away and hurting her, which hadn’t been that easy since she all but wrapped her legs around him.
Carrie fingered the ball of paper but didn’t say anything. He flipped her hand over and dropped the paper in her palm. To keep her from giving it back, he wrapped her fingers around it. “You can’t possibly believe I’m interested in anyone else.”
Yesterday’s kiss burned through him. Holding Carrie broke through his control and had him wanting more. He’d used Mitch’s emergency key last night after the lot closed to get in her apartment building but stopped short of knocking on her door. He could hear Spence’s voice in his head and realized just showing up might actually cross the line to stalking. Austin wanted to be invited in this time. Into her apartment, her life and her bed. That required the right balance of pushing and letting her lead.
Here he was figuring out his timing and the perfect touch and she thought he was making the moves on someone else. Man, for a smart woman she didn’t always look at the clues and come to the obvious conclusion.
“Is this the plan?” The wind whipped up, taking Carrie’s hair. She tucked it behind her ear before he could do it for her.
He wasn’t sure how to answer or even what the question was, so he went with his usual response to rough conversations. “Excuse me?”
“Do you want to make me jealous?”
A breath held in his chest, scraping his insides raw. “Are you saying I still can?”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She spun around, sliding as she went and marched away from him.
“Wa
it up.” He’d about reached his end with her running. There had to be another way for her to deal with her issues. “Man, you get all prickly then run faster than any woman I’ve ever met.”
“Good thing you’re so popular. You can find another woman in no time.” She started out shouting but lowered her voice when he pulled even with her.
He stopped her with a hand on her elbow. “To be clear, I’ve never flirted to make you jealous. Ever. I’m not dead. I can appreciate a pretty woman, and I might look now and then, but my hands don’t wander, and you know that. Blame my dad for the example if you want, but fidelity is a big thing with me.”
“We’re not dating.” The words stayed sharp but her voice lacked punch.
Still, they slashed through him with the brutal rip of a knife. “I disagree.”
“You can see anyone you want.”
Permission. That was just great. “I only want you.”
“I don’t…are you…?” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “You’re saying you haven’t seen anyone else in six months?”
“Right.”
Her eyes widened and he knew why. He didn’t exactly lack in the sex-drive department. Nothing about their time together had been tame or G-rated. He hated being without her and had slept with her every chance he got, sex and actual sleep, over the years.
She shook her head. “I never asked you to refrain.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you?”
Her wide eyes told him she didn’t know. She frustrated the crap out of him. “Because I’m not an animal.”
She sighed as her head fell to the side. “I’m serious, Austin.”
In the past he would have evaded the conversation, made a joke and moved on. Seeing Carrie now, every inch of her aware and engaged in his words, he didn’t hide. “My mother has been gone for fifteen years and I’ve never seen my dad date another woman. When I started having sex and realized how good it was, I couldn’t believe Dad was denying himself. I figured he had to be sneaking out and meeting someone.”
A small smile played on Carrie’s lips. “Was he?”
“Not that I could tell. I once asked him why he didn’t move on and he told me he was a married man.”