Pax walked to the front door but turned back to the somber look on his father’s face. “You blackmailed me into becoming a cop, and I lived up to my agreement. But now I’m my own man. Not your ‘bad’ son who needs to prove so hard he’s not a doormat that he looks for trouble. I’m just me.” He lifted his arms. “A man who abides by his integrity. And follows his heart.”
He wasn’t sure how he could feel a weight lift from his shoulders and settle into his stomach at the same time, but as he walked to Blake’s truck he did. He stared at the house. How would he feel if he never came back? It hurt, severing ties like this. No matter how dysfunctional, they were his family. And there was Janey, the innocent one in all this, who would also be punished. He rubbed his hand over his mouth, letting this settle in.
Doing the right thing wasn’t easy. He’d learned that when he quit the force because of his father’s actions. Now he was quitting his family over his brother’s actions.
He would take the truck to Tracy in the morning. Right now, he had to get back to Gemma. His heart cracked at the thought that she was hurting because she’d gotten involved with him.
He was relieved to see that her car was still in the garage. The lovebirds weren’t back yet. Pax floated up the front steps and tried the door. Locked. He peered inside and took a breath. Gemma was curled up with Harley on the couch, a bottle of wine on the table in front of her, an empty glass beside her.
Harley perked up, looking at Pax but not moving. Pax gave him the stay sign. Good dog. He knew another way in. Although the door between the garage and the kitchen was blocked because of the construction, there was just enough space between the boards for him to slip through.
He tiptoed through the construction zone and into the den. Harley perked up even more, but Pax gave him another sign to stay. He sank beside the coffee table and focused on Gemma. God, she was beautiful. His heartbeat revved like the engine of his racecar. He wanted to touch her, just an innocent brush on her arm. Her cheek. He didn’t dare, on the basic principle of not touching her without permission. Not Gemma.
He hurt, too. For her. For what they could have had. He couldn’t erase what had happened, but maybe he could smooth out the scars.
If she let him.
Harley’s tail thumped, but he laid his chin on Gemma’s arm. Pax was glad the dog was giving his loyalty to Gemma. She needed it more than he did. She had his, too. As hard as it was to pull away, he went up to his room.
—
Gemma was jarred from slumber by the sound of Harley’s barking as he rushed to the door. The guys were back. She roused herself, amazed that only two glasses into the bottle she was buzzy as hell.
Except that she saw only one figure silhouetted at the door. Pax? Part of her wanted to let him in; the other just couldn’t deal with the emotional conundrum he created. Not while she was wobbly.
Harley barked as he’d done the night she arrived, protective, snarling at the intruder. As she neared the glass panes, she saw that the person on the other side was a woman.
Grace. Gemma reacted in the old way, seeing the woman as the devil’s helper. But her foggy mind reminded her that they were no longer enemies.
Like you and Pax.
Gemma opened the door.
“Did I wake you?” Grace asked, obviously seeing the sleep clinging to Gemma’s expression. She glanced at her watch. “I thought it would be early enough, being only ten.”
Gemma stifled a yawn and gestured toward the wine bottle. “It would be plenty early if I wasn’t such a lightweight.”
“Sorry ’bout that.”
“It’s fine, really. Better for you to wake me up than have my guests see me sleeping like a wino.”
Grace chuckled and scrubbed Harley’s head; his barking had been replaced by vigorous tail wagging of the I’m here, I’m here, pet me variety. “Believe me, I will never judge you. I’ve gone to sleep with a bottle of wine myself. Plenty of times. Is Pax here?”
“No.” The word jumped out like Harley’s growl. “He’s the reason I’m imbibing in the first place. Long story. Come in.” She stepped back and waved Grace in. “Would you like a glass? It’s Merlot, have no idea about brand and age if you’re into that sort of thing.”
Grace snorted. “Not hardly. I like red, and not too smoky or oaky or whatever they call it. I’m more of a craft-beer gal, but I’d love one, thanks.”
Who would have thought I’d be pouring a glass of wine for Blake’s attorney? Gemma thought as she retrieved a glass. Course, who’d have thought I’d have kissed his brother?
When she returned to the den, Grace was out on the covered back porch looking over the garden. She wore crisp jeans and a top adorned with a rodeo rider, but she’d abandoned her chunky heels by the door. Gemma didn’t bother turning on the lights. Between the wash of light coming from the den and the landscape lighting, there was enough.
“Thank you,” Grace said when Gemma handed her the glass.
“It’s a 2014 California wine,” Gemma said.
Grace took a sip as she sank into one of the rocking chairs. “A very good year. And, yes, I detect piquant notes of California hills with undertones of San Francisco fog. Sunshine, a touch of smog, and notes of free-spiritedness.” She took another long draw.
Gemma set the bottle on the table and took the chair on the other side of it. “Sounds like you’re a bit enchanted by California.”
“A lot enchanted.” Her smile was wistful as she swished her wine in her glass and watched the waves of red. “I’d planned to move there as soon as I graduated. I wanted out of this nothing, judgmental town that knew—or thought they knew—who I was.” She shrugged. “Fate had other plans.” She took another drink.
“I’ve heard of this Fate recently,” Gemma said, swirling her own glass. “She’s quite the sneaky bitch when she wants her way.”
“That she is.” Grace finished her wine.
Gemma poured the last of the bottle into Grace’s glass. “And what brings you by?”
“Funny thing, fate. As I was driving past this place, some furry critter scampered across the road. I turned the wheel to avoid it, looked up, and there was your B&B. While my head was saying we don’t have an exactly rosy past, my hands were turning the wheel.”
“We’re good,” Gemma said, meaning it. “So, what were you doing tonight?”
She leaned on the arm of the chair, facing Gemma. “I just had dinner with a man I met online. He was Tallahassee arrogant, with undertones of desperate and notes of weird.”
Gemma shook her head with sympathy. “A very bad year.”
“Awful. The guy’s an engineer, professional, right? First date. He admits to curling up naked in his tub, filled with warm water, and pretending he’s back in his mother’s womb. And he asks if I’m up for joining him. Do I look like I’m two shades of whacked?”
Despite Grace’s angst, Gemma laughed again. “Sorry to laugh at your predicament. You have an amusing way of describing it.”
Grace was grinning, though. “If I didn’t have a sense of humor, I’d have cut off my woman parts long ago.” She draped herself back against the chair and sighed. “It’s been so long since I met someone I wanted to use them with, I might as well. I’m done with the Internet-dating thing. Three strikes, and I’m out. Three supposedly professional men who were nothing like what they’d presented themselves to be. The second one told me he was some kind of secret agent, working on a classified government project. Like they go around actually telling people that. The third, well, he was just plain boring.”
“I’ll let you in on a little secret: if you want to meet guys without the pressure of sex, hang out in church celibacy groups.”
Grace laughed. “Do they actually have those? I stopped going to church a long time ago. I didn’t need some preacher telling me I was born sinful and dirty. I got that enough as it was. I’d like to think that God created us, so he sure isn’t going to make us dirty from the get-go. He made our bodies to enjoy se
x. When it’s right, and the guy knows what he’s doing, it is ‘a-mazing,’ as I’ve heard Pax say.”
Hearing amazing sex and Pax mentioned in the same sentence sent a curling heat through Gemma. One she really didn’t need right then. “I wouldn’t know, but I’ll keep that in mind,” she said.
“Problem is, it’s rarely right. The right guy can be taught. The wrong guy makes it a moot point. And that’s mostly what I’ve met.” Grace twirled a lock of her dark, straight hair around her finger, sliding a glance at her. “Chastity group, huh?”
This was nice, talking to another woman. Gemma didn’t have any true female friends. “To be honest,” she said, “I couldn’t relate to the people in my chastity group, spouting how they want to stay pure for God’s glory. I admired their ideals, but it wasn’t my cause.”
“You don’t belong with them. There’s a sensuality about you that you can’t hide or squash.” She sighed softly. “It’s a real pain in the ass. People judge you for it, and hell, you hardly get to enjoy it when you can’t find someone to enjoy it with.”
“You got that right. I hate that part of myself.” Gemma had never told anyone this, but she felt comfortable enough to share it with Grace. “One of the guys I started seeing in the chastity group broke it off because I was—quote—‘too tempting.’ ”
“What an a-hole, blaming you because he can’t keep his chastity on.”
“Thank you for saying that.” It had played into Gemma’s psyche, renewing her doubts that something about her made Blake think he could take what he wanted. Had she inadvertently sent signals? Was she so inexperienced that she hadn’t even known?
“You need a guy who will let you revel in your sensuality while respecting you. What about Pax?”
Gemma sputtered wine all over herself.
Grace nodded. “Just as I suspected. When I mentioned him a minute ago, your cheeks got all red. I could even see it in the dim light out here.”
“It’s a wine flush.”
“I’m good at reading people. Earlier today, he stepped closer to you when he realized we’d once been adversaries. He kept checking on you, making sure you were okay. Granted, I don’t know him all that well, other than seeing him at the police station when I had business there. But I do know when a man cares about a woman. And when one is very interested, if you know what I mean.”
Grace’s assessment sent more of that heat curling through Gemma. “Pax and me…it’s complicated.”
“Sure as hell is. But what about love isn’t?”
“Love?” Gemma choked.
“Calm down and breathe, honey. I mean love in a general way. Like. Or lust, if that makes you feel more comfortable.”
“That definitely does not make me more comfortable. I’ve dated two guys in recent years, and the sex wasn’t all that great. I haven’t been that eager to try again.”
Grace grinned. “I hear an ‘until’ in there.”
Damn attorney. Gemma knew there was no point in denying it. “Fine, until now. Until Pax.” Because of the way he’d held her, she knew he’d be gentle. Because of the way he’d kissed her, she knew he’d be great. “He makes me feel—”
“Horny?”
“Oh, my God, you are so friggin’ blunt.”
Grace only laughed. “Sorry, that’s just how I am. Sometimes it serves me, and sometimes it buries me. Go on. Pax makes you feel…not horny?”
Gemma couldn’t believe she was talking so candidly with this woman. But something inside her needed to share, to talk, and she really had no one else to do that with. “It’s more than that. For the first time in years, he makes me want. Sexual attraction is only part of it. He makes me smile. Laugh. Makes me want to enjoy life.”
“I hear a ‘but’ in there, too.”
“There are more buts than in a New York City nightclub. Considering who his brother is, his family.” And me. There’s me, too. She needed to change the subject before she dived too deep. “I hate to veer away from girl-talking, which I’m enjoying, but—”
“I’m making you uncomfortable.”
“You are such an attorney!”
“No, I’m just mouthy. I’ve enjoyed this, too.” Grace lifted her near-empty glass. “Wine and girl talk. It’s been a while since I’ve had either. I learned long ago not to trust the local women, and, generally, I play with boys better than I do with girls, though that garnered me a reputation. What you tell them ends up on the tips of glossy red fingers or their forked tongues.” She finished the last of the wine and set her glass down. “You can consider everything you tell me covered by client-attorney privilege, even if you’re not my client.”
“Thank you. Speaking of which, I’m dying to know if you found out anything about the statute of limitations.”
“Unfortunately, it’s expired for your particular case. I’m sorry. But there are other ways to skin a goat. It may not be your goat, but if he’s successfully prosecuted for sexual assault on someone else folks will have to concede that he probably did assault you, too.”
Vindication. Isn’t that what she needed? “What about any girls he might have assaulted at college?”
“If it’s been less than three years from the date of the assault. I believe he dropped out of college after his knee injury four years ago, so we’re probably out of that time period, too. If the victim was underage, we have a little more time. Maybe Pax can talk to this secretary and get something incriminating.”
Grace’s phone rang, and she checked the screen. “Excuse me.” She stood. “Hey, Raleigh…she is?…all right, take her to my office, and I’ll meet you there. We’ll nail down the terms of surrender. Bye.” She disconnected. “Gemma, it’s been real nice hanging with you, but I have to go. I’ve been in talks with the state attorney about a reduced sentence for a fugitive on a murder charge. It looks like she’s ready to turn herself in. I hope we can do this again sometime.”
“Me, too.” She was surprised to find that she meant it.
“You sit, relax. I’ll let myself out.” She patted Harley’s head. “Bye, you furry sweetheart, you.”
The moment the front door closed, Gemma started to get up and lock the door…to keep the furry sweetheart’s daddy from coming in. Before she could even push herself to her feet, she sensed someone standing next to her and screamed.
Chapter 11
“It’s just me,” Pax said, settling into the seat recently vacated by Grace. “I swear, I don’t mean to scare you.”
Gemma glared at him. “Well, you do.” In a lot of ways.
He set down a new bottle of wine and a glass, poured himself one, then poised it over her glass. “Ready for more?”
“No. Yes. I probably shouldn’t.”
“I promise, I’m not going to take advantage of your tipsiness.”
She took the bottle and poured a couple of inches. “I’m not tipsy. Just a little buzzy.” But now the buzz was different. Not as much in her head as in her body, because of him. “And I know you wouldn’t.”
That made him smile. “I’m glad, Gemma. I’d never hurt you.”
“Just a nice startle once in a while?”
“Unintentionally, I promise.” He took a sip of wine. “Did you have enough time to convince yourself to back away?”
“Almost.”
He glanced at his wrist, even though he didn’t wear a watch. “What d’ya need, another minute or two?”
She started to answer but realized it was a trick question. If she said yes, he would sit there and wait. If she said she needed a lot more time, he’d realize how much he’d gotten under her skin. Or in her heart. “I don’t know. It’s not like there’s a timetable I can refer to.”
They sank into silence again¸ and it felt good, just being with him.
He took another sip. “This Malbec has nice body.”
“You know wine?”
He swirled it around in his glass. “It has a smooth flow, with a hint of contriteness and an aftertaste of worry.”
; She shot to her feet. “You were listening to us?”
He rose, too. “And a slight bite of anger.”
“You were listening!”
“I saw Grace come in and wanted to see if she had an update without interrupting. Especially after hearing you say that I wasn’t there in that sharp voice.”
“You were inside the whole time?”
“I came in when you were sleeping.” He tilted his head. “You were awfully cute, you and Harley and your bottle of wine all curled up together.”
Fury and embarrassment warred within as she glared at him. “Where is that contriteness, exactly?”
He pointed to his eyes. “Right here.” And his mouth. “And here.”
And a touch of her smile, which she squashed immediately. “You think you’re cute, don’t you?”
He chucked her chin. “The only thing I care about is if you think I’m cute.”
“You’re impossible! You trespassed!”
“I have a key. And I did promise your dad—”
“He doesn’t know about any such promise.”
“He wasn’t exactly conscious at the time. Right now this is where I need to be. My stuff’s here. My dog’s here.” His voice grew softer. “You’re here.”
That he was including her in with his belongings shivered through her. No, be mad at him, the sneaky eavesdropper. She stalked to the edge of the porch. What had he heard? Oh, great. She’d admitted that Pax had woken her up sensually. That she wanted him. “I hate you.”
He came up behind her, his hands resting lightly on her hips. “Because I overheard things you’d rather I hadn’t?”
Falling Hard Page 16