Disappointment crowded in as he turned away. Without giving herself a chance to think of the wisdom of her actions, she said, “Joel. Can you wait a minute?”
He stopped and faced them again. His gaze shifted from her to Randy and back, reminding her about the movie. She got up and pushed her chair in before resting a hand on Randy’s shoulder. “I’m going to pass on the movie, but thanks anyway. Have fun and I’ll see you at work tomorrow, Case.”
Muscles bunched beneath her palm, and she withdrew her hand when Randy rose to his feet. “I should probably get some things done at home. See you guys later.” He inclined his head. “Joel.”
He nodded back as Randy turned to leave after Casey and Jayne. Once they were gone, Britt took a deep breath and looked up at Joel. She wasn’t exactly sure why she’d asked him to wait, so she seized on the only excuse she could think of.
“Did you bring my SD card with you?”
He slipped his hands into his front pockets and hunched his shoulders. “It’s at my apartment.”
“Oh.”
“You’re welcome to follow me and pick it up.”
The offer, in that low voice of his, started her pulse skipping along again. “Um…”
“I’ve got ice cream.”
His persuasive smile sparked her own. “What kind?”
“Caramel fudge swirl.”
“Caramel and fudge, can’t say no to that.”
He motioned toward the door with his head. “After you.”
They parted ways in the parking lot, then she followed him through Estes Park, wondering what the heck she was doing.
You know exactly what you’re doing.
She sucked in a shaky breath and blew it back out slowly. True.
Joel pulled into the driveway of a duplex, and she parked her truck curbside on the street. She ducked her head to peer across the passenger seat. After another deep breath, she stepped out and crossed the driveway to the door he held open for her.
“Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”
He directed her to the living room and continued toward the back, to the kitchen, she assumed. Her nerves were too on edge to sit calmly and wait, so she remained standing by the couch. For some reason, she’d expected more of a bachelor pad, with dark furniture and maybe some wildlife pictures—not the generic flower prints and light, neutral furniture. It reflected none of his dynamic personality.
The only signs of him were a jacket slung over a chair, and a pair of hiking boots by the door next to a backpack. There were no personal pictures, no magazines on the coffee table, not even any mail lying around.
Hard core reality dawned with more impact than she’d expected, even though she was, as he put it, well aware of the score. He never stayed in one place longer than he was needed. He would catch the bad guys here, then take off after the next ones somewhere else. Of course he wouldn’t carry a lot of stuff with him from place to place.
She sat down and rubbed her damp palms on the legs of her jeans as he returned from the kitchen with a bowl in each hand. He handed one over, then sat beside her on the couch. Close enough for his leg to brush hers and keep that awareness at a hyper-sensitive level.
With her first bite of the creamy dessert, vanilla, caramel and fudge melted on her tongue. She closed her eyes to savor the flavor with a low, “Mmm.”
Silence in the room brought her eyes open again. Joel pulled the spoon from his mouth, his heated gaze locked on her lips.
She quickly swept her spoon in an arc to encompass the room, then scooped up another bite. “You don’t have any pictures of your family.”
“My life doesn’t allow for clutter.”
She paused, the ice cream halfway to her mouth. “You consider your family clutter?”
“I didn’t mean it that way. There’s just my dad, and my picture of him is right here.” He tapped his head with his forefinger. “When I said clutter, I meant literally. I don’t have the time to pack and unpack pictures or sentimental objects because I never know if I’ll be someplace a few days, a week, a month. But I guess it would apply figuratively as well.”
Fair warning.
She struggled to keep a frown from her forehead. “Precisely my reason for not dating here. Makes no sense when I don’t plan to stay.”
“I don’t get that.”
“Why? It’s no different than you.”
“I mean, why not stay? I saw how much you love the mountains when we were up at the overnight camp.”
“I do,” she confirmed with a soft sigh. “But it’s more complicated than that.”
“Your father.” He shifted and drew up one leg so that he faced her.
“Yes, my father.” She leaned her shoulder against the back of the couch and mirrored his pose. “He’s been planning on me taking a place at his side since high school.”
“Those high expectations you mentioned. Double major, honors graduate, take over the company someday.”
Her smile bloomed, then faded at his perceptiveness.
“Do you want to work with him?”
“It would be challenging, that’s for sure.” For more reasons than one.
“Doesn’t answer my question.”
“Six weeks ago, I knew exactly what I wanted.”
He set his spoon in the bowl and set the bowl on the coffee table. “What changed?”
Her ice cream was melting. She held onto it though, staring down into the dark swirl of chocolate through the vanilla. “My fiancé cheated on me. My father still promoted him.”
“Sounds like a sonofabitch.”
She laughed at that. “Which one?”
“Both of ’em.” He leaned forward and laid his hand on her knee. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. Mark’s wife is on bed rest to avoid a third miscarriage, so that’s the reason I gave my father for my being here. It is the main reason I’m here, to give Mark time off this summer, but I also needed to get away from the whole situation—from him. Daniel’s betrayal hurt less than my father not standing up for me.”
Saying it out loud brought on a sudden sting of tears. She quickly rose to carry her bowl into the kitchen. Joel’s footsteps sounded behind her. He set his dish next to hers before sliding his hand over the counter to grasp hers.
She kept her back to him as the unexpected pain mushroomed. “I’m his daughter,” she choked out. “I’m supposed to matter more than anything else, you know?”
“I do know. More than you know,” he whispered.
His hand tightened on hers. Threading their fingers together, he moved in close and his strong arms wrapped her in a tight embrace. She leaned back into his warmth, savoring the comfort he offered as she wiped the tears that’d spilled over.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he admonished. “You deserve better.”
She agreed. Joel’s declaration that her father was a sonofabitch opened her eyes. Of course, her mother had already told her the same thing, but it held a little more weight coming from someone who hadn’t resented him for the past fifteen years.
She became aware of his chin resting on her shoulder, the light prick of his whiskers against her neck. Beneath his forearm, her heart rate picked up speed, and she felt his do the same against her back.
Joel might not offer her more than a few weeks—or even past tonight, but maybe that was just what she needed. A man who was completely up front with her.
No expectations.
No lies.
No disappointment.
She closed her eyes and turned her head toward his. “I know what I want. For tonight, anyway.”
Chapter 19
The husky words seared through Joel, igniting the banked fire in his veins. The past half-hour had been torture. After each spoonful of dessert, she’d licked her lips. And each time he saw her tongue, he’d felt a thread of his control unravel. She drove him crazy with an act as simple as eating ice cream. He prayed to God she would finish, and in the next instant thought
of offering her more.
Until her father entered the conversation. What a bastard.
On an emotional level, he completely understood her pain. Physically, her tears had put an ache in his chest, something he’d never experienced before. Just as unfamiliar, the need to comfort.
And now, suddenly she turned in his arms and pressed her lips to his, her mouth hot, eager. A second of surprise was instantly overridden by a desire that had been put on simmer for far too long. He buried one hand in her hair and wrapped the other arm about her waist to pull her close.
Seconds later, she dragged his shirt from the waistband of his jeans, then wedged her arms between them. Unsteady fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt.
He lifted his hands to clasp hers. “Slow down.”
She didn’t listen.
Despite the need pulsing through him, something wasn’t sitting right, and he offered a second half-hearted protest. “This might not be such a good idea.”
She pulled her hands from his and wound her arms around his neck. “It’s the best idea I’ve had all day.”
Me, too.
Except she’d specifically said she didn’t do benefits. More than once. So what was the sudden turn around about?
Why the hell are you thinking right now?
The answer hit him, and he groaned in frustration. The sound vibrated from deep in his throat, and he felt her smile against his mouth. Her tongue slid against his, drawing him in, seducing him with the promise of heaven to come.
With her plastered against him, he almost forgot about everything else. She felt right in his arms. Not just good, or even amazing, but right.
Like he could keep her there forever.
His heart thumped hard. He broke the kiss and tried to suck air into lungs that refused to let any in. She was still too close. He couldn’t think straight with her soft breasts pressed to his chest, her hips practically cradling his straining erection. The need to bury himself in her heat had him spinning them both around to pin her against the counter.
She held on as he devoured her mouth. Tasting, sucking, delving so deep the pressure in his groin built to unbearable level. He ground his hips against hers and her soft moan filled his mouth.
God, what was he doing?
He reached up to grab her wrists, then dragged her arms down from around his neck.
Confusion clouded her eyes. “What?”
“Clutter.”
“What?”
He cleared his throat and went for more than one word. “I told you, my life doesn’t allow for clutter.”
She stiffened and leaned back. The movement bent her slightly over the counter and put her hips back into contact with his. He jerked as if poked with a branding iron.
“I was kissing you Joel, not asking you to marry me.”
“But you don’t do casual.”
Her gaze dropped to his chest, and she lifted a shoulder. “Maybe I changed my mind. What’s the problem as long as we both know the score?”
His own words slapped him in the face. Hearing them in her voice made them sound callus and uncaring. This time, he cared. With her, he cared about the fact they’d go their separate ways. He cared that she was hurting and thought this was a way to feel better. He cared that he’d only end up causing her more pain.
“You deserve better,” he repeated.
She eased in closer. “I don’t need you to be all chivalrous right now.”
He steeled his resolve against the plea in her eyes. “Yes you do. You just don’t know it.”
Her eyebrows drew together. “Like you know what’s best for me?”
“In this case, yes.”
She shoved against his chest and he moved back to give her space. Give himself space.
“You’re thinking with your heart right now, Brittany. Trying to ease the pain caused by your father’s and fiancé’s betrayal. Trust me, you’ll regret it in the morning.”
She stared him right in the eye and shook her head. Jaw clenched, she stalked past him to yank open the front door. “I regret coming here right now.”
He followed her outside but didn’t try to stop her. If she stayed, they’d end up right where he’d expected when he lied about the SD card in his pocket and she’d accepted his offer to come over. Before he had an attack of conscience.
As she rounded the front of her vehicle to yank the driver’s side door open, he caught sight of the passenger side.
“Whoa.” He backtracked a couple steps to get a better look at her truck. “What happened here?”
“What?” she snapped.
Two scratches marred the shiny black paint, running the entire length of her passenger door and truck bed. “Your truck’s been keyed.” He glanced up to see her frown. “You didn’t see this?”
“No.” She slammed her door shut again and joined him on the passenger side as he fingered the deep scratches. Her surprise was quickly followed by anger as she stared at the vandalism. “Well isn’t this great. It must’ve just happened, because I gave Casey a ride to The Watering Hole and he’d have said something.”
“So either in the parking lot or here.”
She looked back and forth along the sidewalk of the quiet neighborhood. “I’m guessing the lot. There were a group of kids skateboarding when I first got there.”
“I’ll call and see if there are any outdoor security cameras at the bar. We might see who did it.”
“I’ll talk to Billy,” she stated as she headed back to the driver’s side.
“You should also file a police report so you have a statement for your insurance,” he advised as he trailed after her. “I can come with you if you’d like?”
She spun around as he reached for her door. Mere inches apart, she sucked in a breath and reared back against the truck. Fire flared in her eyes, threatening to reignite his banked desire. A hard swallow kept him from closing the distance between them as he pulled open the door.
“Thanks, but I’m a big girl.” She climbed into the cab, then leaned to brace her hand on the inside door handle while looking him straight in the eye. “Perfectly capable of making my own decisions and taking care of myself.”
The door was yanked from his hand as she slammed it and drove away.
He watched her taillights in the deepening dusk, hands stuffed in his pockets. His fingers curled around the media card in his right one. Guess tomorrow he’d get a chance to see if a night to think about everything softened her resentment. He also wanted to make sure she was okay. The length and depth of the scratches suggested the attack was personal, not random. It left him with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that had him dialing Billy at the Watering Hole the moment he got back inside.
Unfortunately, the bar’s security cameras only covered the building entrances and windows. No other acts of vandalism had been reported, which only increased his concern.
Had she gone to the police, or stubbornly ignored the advice because she was angry with him? He hoped to God she was smarter than that.
She is, he assured himself.
Later, as he stripped down before sliding between the sheets, Joel found himself thinking of clutter. Tonight, the word had provided a convenient excuse exactly when he’d needed it, but that didn’t make it any less true. He didn’t have time for anything meaningful, what with his endless days on the road.
However, staring at the ceiling in the dark, thinking of Brittany’s observation that he had no personal items of meaning to surround him, he grudgingly admitted having his own place might be nice.
Somewhere to come home to.
Someone to come home to.
The second thought ambushed him, along with a flash vision of blond hair, green eyes and a beautiful smile.
He jack-knifed into a sitting position on the bed and fisted his hands in his hair. That was exactly the kind of thinking he needed to avoid. A place to set down roots was something to consider, but he would never allow himself to need any one person again. He
’d seen firsthand how it could destroy a man even as strong as his father, and back in Alaska, it had almost happened to him.
No way in hell would he allow it to become a possibility again.
Chapter 20
The sight of Mitch coming out of the stall next to Paelo’s on Monday morning made Britt’s step falter. His usual welcoming smile was nowhere to be seen as he avoided her gaze and bent to grasp the handles of the wheel barrow.
She squared her shoulders and marched over to block his way. “Why were you in prison?”
Guarded blue eyes met hers as he straightened. “Sounds like Morgan already told you.”
“Only that you have a record. He said the details were on you.”
“Mighty noble of him.”
Yes, Joel Morgan was full of noble gestures. Her jaw tightened, but she ignored the thought and waited for Mitch to give her an answer.
He looked away, then swung his head back to face her. “I got mixed up in a gang with my cousin when I was a sixteen. At seventeen, I was arrested and charged as an adult for dealing drugs and armed robbery.”
Okay, wow. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but certainly not that. She did her best to keep her expression impassive.
“I did my stint in jail, then got transferred to a rehab program on a ranch in California. I’m in my last year of probation.”
“Is that where you learned to work with horses?”
“Yes.”
“That’s why you don’t drink.”
“Yes.”
“Mark know all this?”
“We talked when I returned on Friday, and he’s got my probation officer’s number.”
“And you’re still here.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he nodded.
“Are you clean?”
“Yes.” His gaze didn’t waver from hers.
“All right then.” She smiled and moved toward the stall door.
“That’s it?”
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