Can't Stand the Heat?

by Margaret Watson

  “That’s really sad,” she said softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without my friends.”

  She sounded as if she felt sorry for him. Him. Millionaire success story.

  He had the perfect life—a job he loved and enough money to do whatever he wanted. How had she managed to put him on the defensive? It was none of her business how he lived his life.

  They were on Parkside now, where her parents’ house was located. He’d be damned if he’d take pity from Jen Summers.

  “Do you really think I have such a lonely life?” He grabbed her wrist to stop her, then slid his hand lower, until their palms pressed together. Her hand was a little dry, as if she’d washed it too often.

  She jerked away, but not before he felt her fingers tremble.

  “You’re the one who said ‘lonely.’ Not me.”

  He’d been alone most of his life, even when he was growing up. His mother had been bewildered by him. His father had been interested in Walker only as an extension of himself. Someone to continue the family fishing business.

  “Quiet isn’t lonely. I need calm when I design my games.”

  “Okay. Your life is exactly the way you want it.” She darted a look at him, and he had no trouble reading her expression. Except in this. You don’t control me. Or Nick.

  As if he’d conjured him out of the air, a figure darted across the street behind Jen, headed for the house. Nick. Was he planning on walking in the door right in front of his mother?

  Jen began to turn, and Walker tugged her arm. He had to delay her. “How about you? Are you happy?”

  “My life is perfect.”

  “So there’s nothing missing?”

  “Nothing I can’t live without.”

  Nick was creeping around the side of the house, watching them until he disappeared from sight. If Jen went in now, she’d discover him.

  Walker drew her closer. He was just supplying cover for Nick. That’s all.

  Then she put her hands on his chest, and he forgot all about Nick.

  WHAT WAS HE DOING? As Walker pulled her to him, Jen put her hands on his jacket to shove him away. The smell of leather surrounded her. She’d always been a sucker for leather.

  His heat burned into her, even through the thick coat. Move. Now.

  But she didn’t move. Neither did he.

  He stared down at her, and she couldn’t look away. She pushed at him, but her heart wasn’t in it.

  “This isn’t…” He swallowed. “It’s not…”

  “No. It isn’t.” She pushed again. “Get away from me.”

  “You get away from me. I don’t want you,” he muttered.

  “I don’t want you, either.” She dropped her hands and tried to step back, but he grabbed them and put them back on his chest, covering them with his. Pressing her fingers into him.

  He shook his head, as if to clear it. Then one corner of his mouth lifted. “What the hell.”

  When his lips met hers, warm and firm and tasting faintly of bitter Lienie, she froze.

  But when he touched the seam of her lips with his tongue, stroking gently, desire stirred. And when he nipped her bottom lip, then soothed it, all the passion she hadn’t felt for the past two years washed over her in a huge wave. Drowning her in need. In want. She threw her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to him.

  Walker shuddered. He wasn’t the whip-lean boy she’d held so long ago. Now his chest was hard with muscle and his legs were strong against hers. His hands roamed her back restlessly, stroking her from her neck to her hips, gliding over her curves. He lingered on her right hip, just below her waist. Did he remember the tiny tattoo of the sun and moon he’d found so fascinating?

  Memories exploded in her head. The way he’d tasted back then, like spearmint chewing gum. The way he’d touched her, as if she was infinitely precious. The care he’d taken with her, the sweetness that she’d never felt before or since.

  The way her muscles had turned to jelly when he’d kissed her.

  He urged her backward until her shoulders touched a tree, the bark bumpy against her spine. Then he slid a leg between hers and cupped her face in his hands, still kissing her.

  His fingers tangled in her hair and her ponytail holder went flying. Then he buried his face in the heavy mass of it over her neck, inhaling deeply. She turned her head blindly, wanting his mouth on hers again.

  She was burrowing beneath his jacket, desperate to touch his skin, when the headlights of a car flashed past. A horn honked, and someone yelled out the window, “Get a room!”

  She shoved him away. He let her go slowly, as if he couldn’t bear to stop touching her. Finally, he dropped his hands, breathing as heavily as she was.

  They stared at one another for a long moment. Then he thrust his fingers through his hair. “Holy hell.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  SHE BACKED AWAY, staring at him, her body still throbbing. “What was that?” she managed to say.

  His eyes were dark and shadowed and he breathed too fast. But he shrugged. “Last time I checked, it was called a kiss.”

  Right. Mr. Cool. “If you think you can seduce me into giving you what you want, forget it. I’m not that gullible.”

  “You think that’s what I’m doing? Like you seduced me in high school to get what you wanted?”

  She sucked in a sharp breath. His barb was well-aimed, and it struck deep. Made it impossible to speak.

  “Doesn’t feel very good, does it?”

  Her stomach churned. “No. It doesn’t.” She looked at the house, only a few yards away. A refuge. “I’m sorry about what I did. It was horrible and wrong and mean. If I could go back in time and change things, I would. I can’t. But I’m not that girl anymore.”

  He clenched his jaw and slapped the tree. “You skated, didn’t you? So what is there for you to regret?”

  “You think I got off scot-free?” The pain of her divorce was still a fresh wound, but there was no way she’d tell him what had happened between her and Tony. “I paid a price, too.”

  He sighed. “It was a kiss, Jen. That’s all. It wasn’t the first step in my master plan for world domination. I wasn’t thinking about…Nick or high school or anything else.”

  Which meant he was. He’d probably sensed her weakness and pounced. He was the kind of opponent who looked for any opening.

  Why had she kissed him back?

  She didn’t want to think about that. Didn’t want to think about the irony of being attracted to Walker. “Fine. Just a kiss. Already forgotten.” She wished.

  “Right.” He looked over her shoulder at the house. “Looks like everyone’s sleeping in there.”

  “They better be.”

  A tiny smile curled his mouth. “Do you want me to walk you the rest of the way? You look a little…unsettled.”

  “I can walk up the steps myself,” she said, pleased at the coolness in her voice. “I’m perfectly all right.”

  She turned and hurried up the stairs to the porch. She felt him watching her.

  It took her three tries before she got the key in the lock.

  JEN PUSHED AWAY the folder of pictures and the spreadsheet and sipped her coffee. She shuddered. It was cold and too bitter to drink. But it reminded her to add a coffee machine to the growing list of equipment she’d need for her restaurant.

  Her maybe-not-that-far-in-the-future restaurant.

  She’d been putting every extra penny in her savings account, but it wasn’t accumulating very quickly. If she waited until she could get a traditional loan from the bank, she’d be gray and arthritic. Too old to stand at a stove for hours.

  No. There was a way to make this happen. Pat Larson at the bank had promised to work with her. Nick was already looking for used equipment online. She was going to talk to Frank Jones about renting his store.

  Whatever happened, she was done worrying about seeing Walker at the Harp every night. Knowing him, he’d seek her out. Touch her and make it seem like an accident. Press he
r for a decision.

  She’d stay as far away from him as possible.

  Under no circumstances would she kiss him again.

  It had been three days, and her heart still quickened when she thought about his body pressed against hers. Desire pooled low in her abdomen when she remembered their kiss.

  No, there would be no more kisses under the trees in the moonlight.

  Gathering up the papers spread out on the kitchen table, she shoved them in the folder and replaced them in the file cabinet in the dining room.

  Sooner or later, she realized with a roll of her stomach, she’d have to let him talk to Nick. Get to know him. There wasn’t any alternative, not with his threat to ask Tony for permission to do the DNA testing. That was out of the question; if she gave in, Nick and Tony would eventually find out, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

  Walker was a formidable opponent. He hadn’t built a company like GeekBoy by being a soft touch in negotiations.

  But she had an ace up her sleeve, too. What did he know about teens? He’d be too eager, press too hard, and Nick would back away himself. Her moody son didn’t let anyone get too close.

  She wouldn’t bring it up, but if Walker asked again, she’d tell him he could talk to Nick. Under her watchful eye. She wasn’t about to leave them alone. Who knew what Walker would say to him?

  She might have to give in to his demands, but she would do it her way. Her rules. Not Walker’s.

  RESTLESS AND UNUSED TO inactivity, Walker rode his bike down Main Street, headed for the mostly deserted county roads around Otter Tail. He’d have to go back to Chicago for a few days and take care of some business, but until then, he needed to burn off excess energy. Take out his frustrations on the pavement. He bent over the handlebars.

  It had been stupid to kiss Jen. There were ten other ways he could have distracted her. Her taste had lingered in his mouth, and her touch feathered across his skin in his dreams.

  The wind stung his cheeks like a slap in the face. Exactly what he needed to get his head on straight. He’d talked to one of Mary Haney’s neighbors and found out she spent the winter in Florida. According to her friend, she usually came back to Otter Tail in May.

  He couldn’t wait that long. He’d asked his assistant in Chicago to find a phone number for her, and as soon as he had it, he’d give Mary a call and find out what she’d done with the contents of his father’s house.

  He was making progress. He’d have that picture soon.

  As long as Mary hadn’t thrown it away, like he’d ordered her to do.

  Stupid to let his anger at his father cloud his judgment like that.

  He was almost out of town when he spotted Nick and two other kids on Main Street. They stood in front of the same sports memorabilia store where he’d seen Jen and her younger son. Nick was talking, and the other two were listening intently.

  He wouldn’t have a better excuse to talk to the boy. Nick knew Walker had spotted him last night. It would be natural to ask him about it.

  Squeezing his brakes, he rolled to a stop behind the trio. “Hey, Nick.”

  The boy looked over his shoulder and his eyes widened. “Uh, hi, Mr. Barnes.” He said something under his breath to the boy and girl, and they took off. Were they the two he’d been with the night before?

  “Do I look that scary?” Walker asked.

  “Nah. They had to get home. I, uh, I do, too.”

  Walker leaned on the handlebars of his bike and watched Nick edge away from him. “What was going on last night?”

  The kid rubbed his hands on his jeans and glanced down the street at his fleeing friends. “I was a little past my curfew,” he muttered. “Thanks for not ratting me out, man.”

  “Are you going to tell your mom you were out until almost midnight?”

  “Sure,” he said warily.

  “Think she’ll be upset?”

  “Nah. She doesn’t care what I do.”

  The boy’s left leg was bouncing, as if he was getting ready to bolt.

  “Really? Didn’t seem that way to me. She got pretty pissed at you for talking to me.”

  Nick shrugged. “The old stranger-danger thing, you know? She still thinks I’m a baby.”

  The kid was quick. “Is that right? Maybe I should ask her.”

  Nick licked his lips and looked around wildly. But his friends had disappeared.

  “Unless you want to tell me what you were doing.”

  He scowled. “It’s none of your business.”

  “You’re right. It’s not.” Walker eased onto the leather seat of the bicycle and put one foot on a pedal. “See you later.”

  “Wait,” Nick called as he pushed away from the curb.

  Setting his feet on the ground, Walker looked over his shoulder and waited. Nick kicked at a rock on the sidewalk.

  “All right,” he muttered. He shuffled alongside Walker, who got off his bike to walk with him, his clips clicking on the sidewalk. After a minute, Nick asked, “When are you demo-ing Sorceress at the Harp?”

  “Not sure yet,” Walker answered. “I have to set that up with Quinn.”

  “Are you still, like, designing it?”

  “Fine-tuning it.”

  “Yeah? I was hoping you’d, maybe, show me what you do.”

  “I could.” They were walking past a gas station with a soft-drink machine by the door, and Walker said, “Want something to drink?”

  “Cola. Please,” he added.

  Nick didn’t say anything more until they reached a park along the Otter River. Skirting the playground, he headed toward a grassy spot on the riverbank. He took a long gulp of soda, and Walker set his bike on the grass and unscrewed the cap of his own sports drink.

  The shouts of children on the playground drifted over, and an occasional fishing boat went by, heading toward Lake Michigan. The kid put the bottle on the ground between his feet. “It’s Stevie,” he said abruptly. “Me and Dave go over to her house on Friday and Saturday.”

  “Is Stevie the girl who was with you today?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So why is it such a big secret?”

  He blew out a long breath. “Mom won’t let me go to Stevie’s. And Stevie’s parents would shit a brick if they knew we were there.”

  “How come?”

  Nick glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “You’re not going to tell my mom, right? Because I’m telling you. That’s what you said.”

  “I said it depended on what you were doing.”

  “That sucks, man.”

  “That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”

  He jumped to his feet and kicked a large rock into the water. Scowling, he said, “Stevie has to babysit her kid brother on Friday and Saturday night because her parents go out to party. But she’s scared to be there by herself. So me and Dave go over after her brother’s in bed.”

  “Can’t she just tell her parents she’s scared, and have them get another sitter?”

  “God, no.” He gave Walker a “you’re so lame” look. “Her parents sell weed. They don’t give a shit about Stevie. Once when her parents were gone, someone broke into the house and stole their stash. Stevie and her brother hid in the crawl space behind a bunch of boxes. Adam pissed all over himself.”

  Poor kids. “So now you stay with her while her parents are gone.”

  “Yeah. Me and Dave.”

  “Sounds like that could be dangerous.”

  Nick shrugged. “Stevie’s not alone.”

  Walker stretched his legs out in front of him. “So why were the three of you running around last night?”

  He blushed. “Her brother wasn’t home. He was having a sleepover.” He picked up another rock and heaved it toward the water. “Some kid who just moved to town. His parents don’t know about the Meltons yet.”

  “And…?”

  “And nothing. We were goofing off.”

  “You’ve done that before.”

  He lifted one shoulder. “Someti
mes. We like being out when no one knows we’re there.”

  “Are you peeping?” Walker asked sharply.

  “Of course not!” Nick turned red. “That’s gross.”

  “Then what are you doing?”

  He crushed a twig beneath his shoe. “You know. Hiding from each other. Night games.”

  Night games? What was that? Walker hadn’t run through the town at night with his friends when he was Nick’s age. But then, he hadn’t done a lot of the things typical teens did.

  “Are you drinking?”

  Nick looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “Promise you won’t tell my mom?”

  “I can’t do that, Nick.”

  The kid threw himself onto the ground. “We did once. Dave took some of his dad’s beers. We all got sick.”

  Maybe it was normal for Nick to be goofing off with his friends. Trying beer. But what did Walker know about raising kids?

  “You should tell your mom what’s going on with Stevie. She’ll help you figure out what to do.”

  “Don’t you get it?” He jumped up again. “She told me to stay away from Stevie. But she’s not the one selling weed.” He threw his cola bottle toward a garbage can, and it bounced off. “She hates what her parents are doing.” Nick shrugged one shoulder. “So I watch out for her.”

  Uh-oh. He recognized that gleam in Nick’s eyes. He was sure he’d had the same expression on his face when he was that age.

  About Nick’s mother.

  So much for trying to act like a parent. Walker had no experience handling this kind of problem.

  But Nick was trying to do what he thought was right. Would most fifteen-year-olds take responsibility for protecting a friend? Walker had no idea, but he wanted to help. He liked him, this boy who might be his son.

  “It’s dangerous to be out after dark.”

  Nick snorted. “You sound like my mom.”

  “Think of another way to help your friend.”

  “This is the only way.”

  Nick was determined. Stubborn. Just like Walker at that age.

  Was Nick his son? He turned and studied him, searching for the resemblance he’d seen earlier. Today the kid just looked like himself. As Walker watched him brood, he thought of all he’d missed.