Under her hand, the muscles in his arm went tense.
He was watching her. She didn’t want to meet his eyes, but she couldn’t avoid it forever. Mouth dry, she slowly lifted her gaze to his and found that blue green gaze cutting into her, stripping her bare, and all she wanted to do was erase the past five weeks. No. Not the past five weeks—there was another period of her life she’d love to undo, but that just wasn’t possible.
“It’s just that this is too complicated,” she said.
“Complicated.” He shifted around.
Ressa found herself caged between him and the truck. His arms bracketed her shoulders and his mouth was only a whisper away now.
“Sometimes we make things out to be more complicated than they really are,” Trey said, and his voice was imminently reasonable. So reasonable and logical, it caught her off guard when he slid his knee between her thighs. She wore a full-cut skirt, but the material was thin, very little barrier, and she gasped at the feel of him rubbing against her inner thighs. “Let’s simplify. I want you. I want to know more about you and I want to spend time with you. Either you want the same or you don’t.”
As he brushed his mouth against her cheek, he murmured, “Which is it?”
“I want that, but . . .”
He kissed her.
Ressa moaned, grabbing his waist to steady herself, but he ended the kiss too quickly and moved away, watching her with hooded hungry eyes.
“Then we either try this out or don’t.” He stood four feet away now, hands hanging loose at his sides. His gaze focused on her mouth and Ressa shuddered at the hunger she saw there.
We don’t.
Logic whispered inside her head. She knew better. “I’m something of a mess, Trey,” she said, managing to keep her voice level. “I’m raising a child who isn’t mine. There are complications involved with that. There are other things in my life that are just as complicated, if not worse. I don’t think I’m the ideal woman for a man like you to get involved with.”
“I’m a single father.” He took a step toward her.
“And you’re doing a damn fine job with him. That’s not the sort of complications I have going on.” There was a war going on inside her. Logic and desire, for once, completely at odds.
Trey reached up and fisted his hand in her hair. She’d left it down, and the weight of it was heavy on her neck.
He tugged on the curls, forcing her head back as he moved in closer. “I’ve got four brothers—one of them is a movie star, the other is a former child star and we can’t get together without the damn paparazzi stalking us.”
He brushed a soft kiss across her cheek and she felt that light caress all through her body.
“My son has nightmares, convinced that I’ll die just like his mother did, and sometimes I wake up, convinced he died in the wreck that killed his mother. The night my wife was buried, I went out, got completely wasted and managed to get in a fight and I don’t remember any of it—the whole night is a black hole, but whatever the hell happened was enough to turn me off alcohol—even the smell of whiskey is enough to make me sick. I know plenty about complications, Ressa.”
She reached up, fisting her hands in his shirt.
“It’s simple . . . either you want to spend time with me . . . or you don’t.”
He made it sound so easy.
“I’m going to ask you again and you just tell me the first thing that comes to mind—after this, I won’t bother anymore.”
Ressa stilled.
He smoothed a hand down her back and then pulled away.
Only a few feet separated them.
It felt like a mile.
“I’m going to go grab a cup of coffee. Would you like to join me?”
Before she could answer, a voice interrupted them.
“Trey!”
At the sound of that voice, Trey closed his eyes. Staring down at the ground, he muttered, “Son of a bitch.”
“Trey? Hello!”
Her answer lodged in her throat, Ressa turned. Next to her, Trey took a deep breath and she had the oddest feeling he was bracing himself.
She slid him one final look and then met the gaze of the woman in front of them.
It was . . . well . . . June Cleaver.
That was all Ressa could think.
She looked like a modern-day version of June Cleaver. Her ebony hair was cut in a short, sleek bob that accentuated a long, elegant neck. Not that her neck needed the extra accent, but there was a strand of pearls that glowed against oh, so, perfect skin. Her cardigan was mossy green and matched her wide eyes. The cardigan that picked up the green in her full-cut skirt . . . a skirt that looked like a watercolor garden. Roses and lilies against a misty background.
Those mossy green eyes looked at Trey and she all but had her heart written in them. If the woman had handed him a letter declaring her love, it wouldn’t have been any less clear.
“Um . . . hello,” she said, her voice soft, breathy before it steadied. “I thought I’d come see you and Clayton. Since it’s his first day and all. Has . . . school already started?”
“Ah, yeah, well, that’s nice of you, Nadine, but yeah, it’s already started. Clay’s in class, ready to go.” Trey gave her a casual smile.
Casual, maybe, but to Ressa, it looked frayed around the edges.
Nadine shot her another look from the corner of her eye. Some part of her wanted to apologize, just for standing there, and she thought maybe she should just excuse herself—
Trey reached out a hand, rested it on her waist, almost as if he’d read her mind.
“I wanted to be with the two of you.” Nadine’s voice was softer now. Almost a whisper. “He’s been so excited, and you’ve been so worried . . .”
If Ressa hadn’t been standing next to her, she wouldn’t have noticed, the way he tensed, so subtly. But nothing showed in his voice, on his face, as he shrugged. “The first day of school is supposed to be a roller coaster ride, but we handled it.”
She nodded again, looking away. “I can see that. I . . . well. I just want to help, to be there for you. As much as I can.” Another one of those glances at Ressa, and this one lingered.
Unable to stay quiet anymore, Ressa gave her a wide, brilliant smile. “Hi.”
Trey’s thumb stroked her back.
Nadine’s throat worked as she swallowed, her gaze darting off to the side.
“You . . . well, you’ve got the whole morning ahead of you now. It’s going to be awfully quiet at home. Why don’t we go have some coffee?”
Ressa felt, as much as heard, Trey’s sigh.
“I’m sorry,” Ressa said, the words popping out. Her tongue was moving and her brain had no idea what was going on. “Trey and I were just getting ready to head out. We already had plans.”
Trey’s hand fisted in the material of her blouse.
“What . . .” Now Nadine’s gaze flew to her. “But . . .”
“Nadine, this is Ressa Bliss.” Trey let go of her blouse, but not of her. He curled his arm around her waist and he moved closer, pressed his mouth to her temple. “A friend of mine.”
Nadine looked back and forth between them. “But . . . I . . .” She blinked and looked away. “We didn’t have any time to talk today.”
“With Clay starting school, the morning routine has to change.” Trey smiled. “It was nice of you to come by, Nadine.”
She nodded and slid another look back at Ressa.
Ressa felt something cold slide through her—those mossy green eyes had gone chilly.
There was something under that June Cleaver mask.
“That woman is working you,” Ressa murmured as she watched the woman climb in her car a few yards away.
“Nah. Nadine’s just . . . lonely. Her husband died a couple of years ago and she’s shy, doesn’t know how to talk to people very well.”
Shy, my ass. “She’s working you.” Ressa slid away, turning to study him. “And you clearly were falling for it. She’s go
od . . . I think I almost fell for it, too. What’s the deal about your morning routine?”
Scowling, he rubbed at his jaw. “We started having coffee together in the mornings a while back. We just sit on the porch while Clayton eats his breakfast there. It’s not a big deal or anything. It’s not like we’re dating.”
“Maybe not to you. She thinks she’s got a claim on you.”
Trey rolled his eyes and then moved in, cupping her chin. “And is that why you decided you’d have coffee? Or was that just to distract her?”
“No.” She swallowed and hoped like hell she wasn’t making a mistake. “I want to . . . have coffee.”
His thumb swept over her lip. “Just coffee?”
“For now.” Then she eased back. “But I’m not joking. That woman thinks you two have something going, Trey. Why else would she show up here? That’s a mom thing—or a serious girlfriend thing.”
He opened his mouth, then shut it. “She probably just didn’t think about it.”
“She did.” Rolling her eyes, Ressa muttered, “Men. Sometimes you’re so blind.”
“And what do you want me to do about it?” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.
She ran her tongue across her teeth. “Well, for one . . . if we’re going to have coffee . . . or anything else . . . you need to make sure she knows you’re not interested.”
“Nadine knows that.”
Ressa cocked a brow, and as Trey’s face went red, curiosity flooded her.
“We . . . ah . . . look, we tried a date. Once. It didn’t work out. At all.”
Cocking her head, Ressa asked, “Was this before or after the coffee deal started?”
“Before. Months before.” He frowned. “Why?”
“Because I suspect she thinks you two have had a lot of dates since then that have worked out—every morning you have coffee together. You need to make her back off. Have her give you some space . . . What?”
He sighed. “She makes you feel like you’ve kicked a puppy. I . . . Fuck. Sometimes when Clayton and I head out for breakfast, just the two of us, she gives me this look and it’s like I kicked a puppy right in front of her.”
“I told you—she’s working you. How do you feel when you keep doing whatever it is she wants? Like just now, when you saw her here? What did you feel?”
* * *
How in the hell had the discussion gone from him trying to talk Ressa into coffee to his somewhat annoying and needy neighbor?
Trey did not know.
Ressa eyed him coolly, an arch look on her face, as she waited for an answer.
Trapped. He winced and looked away. Nadine was a sweet woman. She helped out with everything. She didn’t have any kids, but she helped out with a local Boy Scout troop. She volunteered with Big Brothers/Big Sisters. She headed up clothing drives and made sandwiches to pass out down at a park where some homeless people tended to gather on weekends.
She was a sweet lady.
They’d tried one date and he’d only said yes because the few times she’d stammered out her obviously nervous invitation to the movies or dinner, she’d left him feeling like he’d broken her heart when he said no.
They’d gone out to dinner and a movie and when they came back, she’d been the one to make a move.
She’d kissed him.
Everything inside him had gone cold.
There had been absolutely no interest—in fact, he couldn’t wait for her to stop kissing him.
Turning away, he rested his hands on his hips and looked up at the clear blue bowl of the sky stretching overhead. “Trapped,” he bit off. Every time he was with Nadine, he had that same sensation. He didn’t know why, but that was how he felt. And it wasn’t because of anything Nadine did.
“I’d feel trapped, too, if somebody kept trying to manipulate me into shit I didn’t want.”
He stilled and shot a look over his shoulder, meeting Ressa’s gaze. “What?”
“I’d feel trapped, too.” She shrugged and moved toward him.
She was so close . . .
Reaching out, he caught her waist and pulled her against him.
She didn’t resist.
Leaning back against the truck, he took the soft weight of her body on his and his cock stirred, blood draining down and pooling in his groin.
Her lashes lowered.
A soft sigh shuddered out of her.
“No more coffee,” he said softly.
Then he trailed his fingers up the inside of her ribs.
She was right, he suspected, and it made him feel stupid that he hadn’t seen it before now.
“She’ll make you feel like you kicked a dozen puppies.” Ressa slid her hands up his chest.
“Too bad. If I’m having coffee, I’d just as soon have it by myself . . . or better yet, with you.”
“We are still talking about coffee here, right?”
“Sure.” Then he bent down and nipped her lower lip. “Unless we’re not. But don’t worry, I’ll tell her.”
Mentally, he braced himself for it. He could already see the look in her eyes, too.
“You’re like an open book sometimes.”
He met her eyes.
“You’re thinking about how much you’re going to hurt her feelings, aren’t you?”
There was a zipper under her arm and he lifted a brow. “Well, this very second, I’m thinking about how easily I could pull this down . . . but . . . yeah.”
“You’re going to do it anyway. No matter what you say or how you do it.”
“I can be nice, you know.” He scowled at her.
For a moment, she stared at him.
Then she laughed.
“You are blind. Trey . . . she’s in love with you. And the sooner you make it clear it’s not going to happen, the sooner she can move on.”
There was only one way to describe how he felt in that moment. He summed it up in two words. “Oh, shit.”
Chapter Fifteen
The coffee shop was just down the corner from work. The new branch where she worked wasn’t as big, or as high tech, as the branch near the waterfront had been, but the children’s area was nice and they had a great program.
That was always a plus.
By an unspoken mutual agreement, they kept their discussion casual—the sort of talk they would have had if this had been their first date.
Well, technically, it was, even if they were doing things out of order.
Usually the date came before the crazy hot sex.
It didn’t negate that first, mild awkwardness that came with any first date, though, and Ressa was even more nervous because on the drive over, she’d had too much time to think through what a stupid decision this was.
Ressa pointed out, nice and casual like, how much the Norfolk library loved it when local authors came to visit. She hadn’t gotten around to that before, and now, at least, she could say she’d sown the seeds.
Now, as they sat on a low-lying brick container wall, the riot of summer flowers blooming behind them, she sipped at an iced coffee while Trey actually managed to drink regular coffee. In this heat. She didn’t know how people did that.
He stared toward the library, sunglasses shielding his gaze from the vivid rays of the sun. “How long you worked there?”
“For this branch? You forgot already?” She wrinkled her nose at him when those dark lenses angled toward her. She wanted to snag them off. If he never again hid behind a pair of sunglasses, it would be too soon. “Oh, guess you meant the library in general. I’ve been with them since college, at one location or another.”
“Always wanted to be a librarian?”
“Yeah.” She suspected he wouldn’t be one of the ones who didn’t get it, so she told him the truth. “You know how books are a casual escape for some? Books weren’t just an escape for me—they rescued me.”
His brow lifted, his expression somehow conveying . . . go on . . . all without him saying a word.
She blew out a breath. S
he could do this—get this part out. If he learned this much of her and didn’t handle it well? Then that would be answer enough and she’d know before she got in over her head.
“I wasn’t . . . a good kid,” she said finally, just laying it out on the table. “My mom died when I was little. I can relate to Clay there. But my dad . . . well.”
She shrugged. “He got in trouble a lot. In and out of jail. I’d live with his sister when he was locked up. He did a stretch of three years, got out when I was seven and seemed to straighten up—or so people thought. He just got smarter. We moved around a lot. He was dealing drugs . . .” She paused and then blew out a breath before she added, “And he used to have me helping him.”
Now she looked up.
Trey didn’t look shocked or appalled or disgusted.
He just sat there. Listening.
She swiped a finger through the condensation on her cup while her gut twisted into ten thousand knots. “There were a few times when he’d get arrested off and on, but he never got charged, never got held. He was killed when I was fifteen. I ended up going to live with his sister.” She smiled now, unable to stop it. “Mama Ang. She pretty much changed my life. And not just because she introduced me to books. I wasn’t easy for her to live with—at all—didn’t think I needed anybody, kept trying to run away—school was awful . . . but she kept at it, kept at me. Six months after I’d gone to live with her, I got in a fight at school. Somebody was on me again, about my dad, and I lost it. Got suspended. Mama Ang locked me in my room. No TV. I could come out for meals but that was it. The only thing in the room was the schoolwork I had to do and books. Eventually, I got bored enough to pick one up. I didn’t even hear her come in the room—she’d been calling me for dinner and I never heard.”
She flicked a look at him. “It was Tolkien. She asked me if I was enjoying it and I lied—told her it was the most boring piece of shit I’d ever read. Mama Ang just laughed. The next day, she brought me more books and told me a whole world lay inside them.”
Ressa paused, thought of the hours, the days, the weeks that followed. “It took a while. It wasn’t some Reading Rainbow after school special where I changed overnight, but . . . I found myself spending more time inside a book, getting in trouble less . . . doing better in school. Not on purpose, but it happened. And I liked me more. I’d read about these people who were . . . decent. Like Mama Ang. I didn’t understand why they could be like that and I couldn’t. So I told myself I’d just pretend . . . and maybe I’d figure it out on the way.”
Busted (Barnes Brothers #3) Page 14