by Monroe, Lucy
“Not if I can help it,” Grant muttered as she walked away.
Zoe grinned at him. “Behave. I know you think you have to protect me from the world, but I’m perfectly capable of handling my former landlady.”
He didn’t return her smile. He didn’t want to discuss Mrs. Givens. He didn’t even want to talk about her giving up her pets. But he’d have something to say about that later. He wanted an answer to his earlier question, and he wasn’t going anywhere until he got one. “Answer my question.”
“Let’s talk about this later, Grant.” She gave him the smile that usually disarmed him. “I don’t want to discuss what happened at the Pattersons’ on a public sidewalk.”
“I want to talk about it now.”
Zoe’s smile disappeared. “Well, I don’t.” She turned and walked into the take-and-bake pizza place. She marched up to the counter. “A double pepperoni calzone, please.” She faced him. “What do you want?”
“An answer.”
Her expression took on a hunted quality, and all five feet, two inches of her stiffened with her usual brand of stubborn resolve. “Later. Right now you need to order.”
“I’ll share your calzone. You can never eat a whole one.” Before she could argue, he turned to the cashier. “Add an order of bread sticks and a large salad, please.”
The kid behind the cash register gave Grant and Zoe a bored smile. “That’ll be about fifteen minutes.”
Grant said, “Fine.” It shouldn’t take more than a minute or two for her to answer his question. It wasn’t that tough. Either their experience at the Pattersons’ had changed their relationship for her, or it hadn’t. He couldn’t believe after the way she’d come apart in his arms that it hadn’t, but he needed to hear her tell him so.
He grabbed her arm to pull her to one of the chairs that lined the small store’s walls. “Did it, or didn’t it?”
She crossed her arms over her breasts, drawing his attention to the curves under her coat. “It’s not that simple.”
“Yeah. It is. It’s either yes or no. Which is it?”
She gave a pained smile to an elderly woman sitting next to her husband in the waiting area. She turned her gaze back to Grant. “I’m not sure we should change our relationship. Being friends has worked for a long time.”
“You don’t respond to my kiss like a friend, Zoe. You respond like a lover.” The best lover he had ever had.
Her eyes skittered to the interested faces of the other patrons in the restaurant and she blushed. “Please, Grant, let’s talk about this later.”
He wanted her to admit that things had changed. “Just say yes or no.”
“Yes.” She shot up from her chair. “Yes. They’ve changed. But you aren’t exactly a poster boy for commitment. I don’t want to end up another notch on your bedpost.”
He reached for her, but she yanked away. “I’ll wait outside.”
Chapter 9
“A notch on my bedpost?” They were the first words Grant had spoken about their argument since returning to the truck with their dinner.
The drive to the Double C had been a silent one, with her thinking about the ramifications of Grant wanting her to acknowledge a change in their relationship. Evidently he’d been mulling over her comment about bedposts.
Zoe felt her face heat. “You know what I mean.”
“No. I guess I don’t.” He pulled her from where she stood spooning salad onto plates into the space between his jean-clad legs as he leaned against the counter. “We haven’t even been to bed together. I can’t notch anything.”
“Don’t be so literal.” She didn’t know why she was arguing this particular line of debate. She didn’t want a commitment from Grant; she wanted to get rid of this desire that stopped her from wanting other men and seeing them as potential mates.
“I’m not afraid of commitment. I’ve been engaged once.”
She looked him straight in the eye. “So you’re saying you are looking at the possibility of marriage to me?”
His gaze shifted and his expression turned troubled. “I don’t know what the future holds, but I want to explore the possibilities between us.”
Right. He wanted to go to bed with her. Somewhere between his horrified reaction to their encounter that morning and when they’d gone for dinner Grant’s attitude toward having a physical relationship with her had changed. He no longer had a rule against kissing her. That did not mean he was looking at forever. But she wasn’t either, she reminded herself.
She refused to acknowledge the emptiness inside her the thought provoked. Grant was offering her the thing she’d decided she wanted most—an opportunity to assuage the lust she felt for him. He wasn’t offering love, but then neither was she. She wasn’t.
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?” He was looking at her with a distinct air of wariness.
“I’ll go to bed with you.”
He frowned. “Just like that?”
“Did you want me to play hard to get a while longer?”
His frown turned up a notch. “No. I’m just not sure what we’re saying here.”
“You’re saying you want to go to bed with me, and I’m saying yes. It’s pretty straightforward.”
He didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t want to talk about it any longer. So she took the steps necessary to bring her body into frontal contact with his. She grabbed the back of his head and yanked. His mouth landed against hers with a gasp of surprised air. She took advantage and slipped her tongue inside to tease his. His response was everything she had hoped for.
He stopped trying to talk. She wasn’t even sure he kept breathing. He planted his hands on her backside and lifted her until she hooked her legs around his waist, and then he kissed her back with a masculine passion that left her panting and her heart racing faster than the pace car at the Indianapolis 500.
She was enjoying their kiss so much that the annoying ring of the telephone did not immediately register. Grant peeling her from his body and pushing her gently away, however, did.
The phone shrilled once more, and with a look of apology Grant leaned past her to answer it. “I’m expecting a call from Mom and Dad,” he explained as he lifted the receiver off the wall phone.
“Hello? Sure, just a minute.” He handed the phone to her. “Your principal.”
She cradled the phone against her ear. “Hello, John. What’s up?”
“Hi, Zoe. I need to talk to you about something. Are you going to be at the Christmas Pageant tonight?”
“I’ll be at the program, but can’t we just talk about it now?” He had interrupted an incredible kiss, for heaven’s sake. They might as well talk.
“I’d rather do this face-to-face, if you don’t mind.”
His serious demeanor was making her nervous. “What—am I fired or something?” She said it jokingly, but a small part of her was worried that it must be pretty serious for him to be unwilling to discuss it over the phone.
“Of course not.” His immediate denial soothed her nerves. “We just have a small matter to work out. That’s all.”
“Is this about the bunny incident? I apologized to the other class, and I have been very careful to keep Pete in his cage since then.”
“I hadn’t heard about that. You’ll have to enlighten me when we talk tonight.”
Shoot—hadn’t that police officer who’d pulled her over for a broken headlight told her never to volunteer information? That had been after he had asked her if she knew why she’d been pulled over and she had proceeded through a litany of ticketable offenses before he’d finally shut her up and told her to get a new headlight. Well, she was done offering information.
She’d wait to find out what was on John’s mind tonight. “Fine. I’ll see you there, then.”
She hung up the phone and met Grant’s gaze.
“What was that all about?” he asked.
She shrugged, her brows drawn together in thought. “I don’t know. He wants to talk t
o me about something tonight at the program.”
Grant pulled her back into the circle of his arms. “I take it he wasn’t calling about the bunny incident?”
She smiled. “No.”
All thought of bunnies and principals went out of her mind as Grant’s lips fastened on hers again.
Zoe slid her gaze from the moonlight reflecting off the snow out the truck’s window to Grant’s profile. His handsome face took on a mysterious quality in the dim light. It was as if this man that she had known for most of her life had become a stranger. A sexy stranger.
She’d felt this way once before—the summer she’d been nineteen. She’d loved him then. Almost desperately. This time she just wanted his body—didn’t she?
She’d given up on his heart after he’d hurt her so badly when she was nineteen, but the feelings roiling round inside her now felt like something more than lust. That scared her more than the conversation she’d had with her principal at the Christmas Pageant.
John had suggested she stop seeing so much of her best friend for a while, to let the gossip die down. Evidently rumors were circulating about her living with Grant…with the most intimate connotation of the words.
John had been more than a little worried about how the gossip would affect the reputation of the school, even after she had assured him she wasn’t even living in non-connubial bliss with Grant. Part of her understood the school administration and board’s attitude about the matter. Despite its influx of the rich and famous twice a year, Sunshine Springs was so small a town that building the second stoplight had been cause for a town dance and barbecue.
She’d seen a different way of life when she’d gone away to college, but she’d never been able to completely dismiss the morals she’d been raised to believe were right. Those morals did not include moving in with a man without the benefit of marriage. She knew the majority of the townspeople held similar ideas, particularly the parents of her five-year-old students.
John had been right about that. But she wasn’t living with Grant and she refused to be punished for rumor rather than reality. She wasn’t giving up her relationship with Grant for anyone, and she’d told her principal that very thing.
He hadn’t been happy.
“You’ve been about as talkative as a sleeping bull since you and John talked after the pageant.” Grant’s words brought Zoe back from her reverie. “What’s going on?”
She smiled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you. Really. I was thinking.”
“I could tell. I want to know what you were thinking about. Are you having second thoughts about us?”
The vulnerability in his voice surprised her. “I’m not having second thoughts.”
“Then what is it?”
“John had heard from some reliable source that I was living with you. He wanted me to know that the school administration, the school board and the parents of my students would all take a very dim view of such an arrangement.”
Grant’s head whipped around to face her. “Did he threaten your job?”
Zoe sighed. “Not in so many words. And I don’t know how far he would have pushed it either, because I told him immediately that I’m staying at the Pattersons’ and looking for a place of my own.”
“What else?” He knew her so well. Someone else would have assumed that had been the end of the discussion, but Grant could read her too well.
“He’s as concerned about the rumor as the reality. He wants me to cut back the time I spend with you to allay gossip,” she said.
“Like hell.” The words exploded in the truck cab like a Christmas firecracker. “What did you say?” There was that vulnerability again.
She put her hand on his thigh, reveling in the hard muscle and the sense of intimacy of the action. “I told him that I refused to have my private life dictated by the gossips in Sunshine Springs.”
“Did he accept that?”
She started to draw little shapes with her finger on Grant’s leg. “He wasn’t thrilled, but he had no choice.”
Grant’s breathing quickened. He put his hand over Zoe’s to still it. “I’m going to drive us into a ditch if you keep that up.” He squeezed her hand and went silent for about half a minute. “Maybe we should consider what John said. I don’t like the idea of you being the brunt of gossip in town.”
Frustration poured through Zoe. She hadn’t stood up to her principal for Grant to go chicken-hearted on her. “Make up your darn mind. I’m tired of playing this tune. This morning you were so appalled by what happened in the kitchen that you wanted to curtail our friendship. Then you apparently chucked your whole rule about kissing me and your concerns about getting too close out the window.”
She took a deep steadying breath. “You demanded that I acknowledge the change in our relationship, which I did. Now we’re back to maybe we should not spend so much time together.”
He pulled into the Pattersons’ drive. He parked next to her truck, but didn’t turn off the engine. “Let’s talk about this tomorrow. It’s been a long, emotional day for you, and you didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”
She unbuckled her seatbelt and shoved her door open before jumping out. “Silly me—I thought the emotion was mutual today.” She grabbed her purse off the seat and slammed the door.
She’d gotten the front door open before he caught up with her.
He spun her around to face him. He didn’t say anything. He just slammed his mouth down on hers in an incinerating kiss. His lips were hard and demanding as they moved over hers, forcing a response even though she was still angry. She pressed her body against him in an instinctual move that felt pretty dang primitive.
He slipped his hands inside her coat, and it wasn’t until his fingers had closed over bare flesh under her sweater that she came to her senses. She struggled against him, dragging her mouth away from his. “Stop.”
He kissed the side of her neck when she denied him her lips.
She pressed against his chest and shoved. “I mean it. Stop.”
His breathing harsh, he did as she demanded.
She pulled from his arms. “I’m not going here again. I need some time to think. Apparently so do you.”
He took a step back and dug his fingers through his dark hair. “Fine. You’re right.” He stepped toward his truck. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
She nodded. She couldn’t speak. Her throat was too tight. She watched him move toward the truck, her insides twisted in knots. He stopped when he reached the driver’s side door.
“Zoe?”
“Yes?” The word came out as no more than a whisper, but he heard her.
“The emotion was mutual.” Then he was gone.
Grant finished feeding the horses and headed back up to the house. He wanted to get in his truck and go to Zoe, but that wasn’t an option. He’d called her this morning on the phone, figuring she’d had plenty of time to think about their relationship. She’d had all night. Evidently she hadn’t spent it thinking about them. She’d had the gall to tell him that she had slept and slept well. He rubbed his tired eyes.
He hadn’t. He’d spent the night tormented by images of Zoe on the countertop in the Pattersons’ kitchen. Zoe coming apart in his arms. The hurt on her face when she’d thought he’d made a date with Carlene. The feel of Zoe’s lips under his. He kept playing her reaction to his suggestion that they follow John’s recommendation to protect her from gossip over in his mind. He couldn’t get the look of wariness in her eyes when she’d told him they both needed time to think out of his mind.
Why had she been so upset last night? He’d only been trying to protect her. And why had she been so hesitant to admit the change in their relationship? He didn’t like it that she needed time today to think about it either. Or that she’d refused to see him until she was ready.
She should be ready now.
To heck with it. She’d had all day. He was going over there and they were going to talk things out. Besides, he needed to tel
l her that Bud had been picked up by his new owner. Grant could have used the phone, but he’d rather tell her in person.
He wasn’t going to say anything about the phone call he’d made not long after hanging up with her that morning, though. He’d called Mr. Jensen and read the older man the riot act. It was time the Jensens started treating Zoe like their valued daughter and not an afterthought. The older man was too stubborn to promise to change his plans, but Grant could tell he’d been shaken by the things Grant had said.
If the two didn’t show up for Christmas he would be surprised, but he wasn’t warning Zoe about the possibility on the off chance he was wrong. She would only be hurt more then.
He slammed into the house, leaving the back door open. He went to grab his truck keys from the hook by the door, but at the sound of tires crunching over the snow on his drive his hand froze midway. She’d come to her senses. He looked out the back window. Carlene’s stylish compact came into view. It halted a few feet from his back door.
Oh, hell. He’d forgotten to call her and set things straight. After giving vent to his frustration with a few well-chosen words, he went outside to face the music.
“Hello, Carlene.”
She turned on her high-heeled boot and gave him a strangely tentative smile. “Hi. I got off work early tonight, and instead of going home I thought I’d bring dinner. To make up for the other night, you know?”
“Look, there’s something I need to tell you.”
She shivered. “Can you tell me inside? It’s freezing out here.”
“Sure.”
She started taking off her coat when they got inside, and innate courtesy had him reaching out to help her. The words he wanted to say stalled in his throat as he became aware of what Carlene was wearing under the coat.
Her boots stopped at her ankles and fishnet covered the rest of her bare legs. Her dress looked more like a shiny Spandex slip. The way she kept tugging on the hem was probably meant to draw his attention to her skimpily clad thighs. The top of the dress was skin-tight and off the shoulder. If she was wearing a bra, it had to be the size of a Band-Aid. Nothing else would fit under the snug fabric.