Slow Ride

by Lori Foster

  It occurred to Ronnie to wonder, was the kitten hers or his? If he kept it, that’d suit her. Wouldn’t it?

  She ignored the yearning in her heart and reminded herself that the important thing was for the kitten to be safe. It didn’t have to be her kitten.

  What use did she have for a pet anyway? Her apartment didn’t allow them, so it’d be more convenient if Jack claimed Peanut as his own. He knew more about loving than she did, anyway.

  And if he didn’t keep it?

  If necessary, she’d get a new place. Home had no real meaning for her, so moving wasn’t a big deal. She did it often. All she required was a place to sleep and shower, and she could get that anywhere.

  One way or another, she’d ensure that the kitten was safe, well cared for, and if she looked deep enough, she could probably find some love to—

  A nudge to her side brought her out of her thoughts. Jack stood looking at her, an indulgent smile on his face. The clerk stared only at Jack.

  With no idea what she might’ve missed, Ronnie scowled. “What?”

  “We’re going to attempt to move Peanut now,” Jack explained.

  Ronnie glanced around. The carrier was ready, looking much more comfy than the rusted cage. The cat sniffed the air, already aware of the food.

  Shaking off her thoughts of the future, Ronnie asked, “What do you want me to do?”

  “Just hold the carrier steady. I’m going to tip the old one forward and hope Peanut goes inside for the chow. Betty Jo will close and latch the door.”

  Betty Jo? So now she and Jack were familiar?

  Ronnie eyed the young, pretty, shapely clerk with a touch of dislike, but all she said was, “Thanks.”

  Overall, the maneuver went off without a hitch, namely because Peanut launched forward and attacked the food as if it might disappear, each bite accompanied with a low growl of relish. Growl-rowl-mmmrrowl-growl.

  With sheer enjoyment, Ronnie watched as Peanut’s little belly grew round and the dish grew empty. She didn’t know much about animals, definitely not kittens so small, but neither Betty Jo nor Jack seemed concerned.

  “Ahhh. Poor thing was starving.” Betty Jo looked up at Jack adoringly. “It’s so wonderful that you saved her.”

  Paying almost no attention to the woman, Jack retrieved Ronnie’s shirt from inside the old cage. “Actually, it was Ronnie who saved Peanut.”

  Refusing to be drawn into the adoration, Ronnie crossed her arms. “I spotted her, but you did all the work.”

  Jack smiled down at Betty Jo. “Do you think you could discard the old cage for us?”

  “Of course. Be glad to.”

  Seemingly oblivious to Ronnie’s rising antagonism—though Ronnie didn’t buy it—Jack looked around at everything he’d bought, then rubbed the back of his neck. The raised arm sent his muscles flexing in obvious strength.

  Damn him, even his underarm was sexy, with the soft tuft of hair and paler skin there.

  Jack said, “I’ll need to make two trips to get this all in the car.”

  Betty Jo breathed to his bulging biceps, “I can help.”

  His smile could’ve blinded a person. “You wouldn’t mind?”

  Was he flirting with the clerk? Right in front of her? Okay, so Jack was always smiling, always friendly. Did he have to be that friendly?

  Disgusted by the possibility that she might be—ugh—jealous, Ronnie grabbed the plastic bag of canned food in one hand, the handle of the carrier in the other, and stalked toward the door without a word.

  “Or not,” Jack mused behind her, grabbing up the litter and cat box. She heard him say, “Thanks again, Betty Jo.”

  She closed her ears to anything the woman might have replied.

  Though she had the heavier load, Jack didn’t try to take anything from her. Good thing, too, because she might’ve kicked him.

  Instead he stepped around her and opened the car, putting his load on the back seat. Ronnie avoided eye contact. She didn’t want him to know that for a minute there she’d felt...what? Not just jealous, but possessive?

  What a joke. She knew better than to—

  Instead of moving out of her way, Jack leaned in and put his mouth to hers in a firm, quick press of lips that took her completely off guard. Letting their foreheads touch, he said, “Whatever I did, I’m sorry.”

  Damn it, he sounded sorry, which made her second-guess her pique, and that only pissed her off more. Brows crashing down, she snapped, “Don’t you dare—”

  He kissed her again, this time softer, slower. Deeper.

  Longer.

  She didn’t realize he was taking the carrier from her until his body moved into hers. All that heat and muscle, the delicious strength, pressing to her much smaller frame. He made her feel as tiny as the kitten, and for once, it didn’t bother her. She liked the contrast.

  It was enough to muddle her brain.

  Tilting his head, he took advantage of her daze to slide his tongue over her bottom lip, then nip it with his teeth. His hot breath warmed her cheek and his scent invaded her head.

  Ronnie gave a low groan and used her free hand to clutch at the sleek, firm biceps another woman had admired.

  Mine.

  It was a terrible thought to have, one that frightened her down to her soul for all it implied. Weak. Possessive.

  Needy.

  She pulled back, gulping air and trying to ignore the fact that her palm still rested against the hot, solid steel of his arm.

  His dark gaze, framed by those crazy thick lashes, dropped to her lips, now wet and swollen. And wanting more.

  He made a low, intrinsically masculine sound, then murmured, “Don’t slug me, okay?”

  “Okay.” She wasn’t sure she could anyway; it took all her concentration to keep from reclaiming his mouth. God, every kiss with Jack was a revelation, as if each time she learned what kissing should be...but had never been before.

  Cautiously he took a step away, putting a foot of space between them and causing her to lose the heated contact of her palm to his arm. “If you did,” he warned, “I might drop Peanut.”

  No, he wouldn’t. He had better reflexes than that, and he cared about the cat, too much to harm it, even accidentally.

  “Ronnie?”

  She swallowed. Was he really expecting her to attack? “I won’t.” No, she might jump his bones, but she wouldn’t hit him.

  After one more wary glance, he said, “I could kiss you all day. Your mouth... I already feel like an addict.” Frowning, as if puzzled by that, he shook his head and turned to arrange things on the seat so he could situate the cat, taking a moment to talk to her, to reach a finger inside the cage and stroke her back.

  Ronnie watched the stretch and roll of sinew and muscle from his shoulders to the waistband of his slacks. She had to curl her hands tight to keep from reaching for him.

  He straightened, and she finally got her gaze to Peanut.

  Sated now, the kitten ignored them both while licking one dainty paw.

  Introspection was a bitch, involving all her brainpower so that she barely paid attention as Jack stepped back, the ultimate gentleman, while she got seated. She licked her lips and tasted him. The feel of his body teased her.

  Even more disturbing, having his shirt draped around her ensured that she inhaled his dark, rugged scent with every breath.

  They drove away from the pet store and still she couldn’t seem to sort her thoughts into any type of order.

  After a time, Jack asked, “Why were you mad?”

  She wanted to deny all sorts of things. Her response to him. Her fast temper. That idiotic jealousy. He read her so well that it’d all be useless, so instead she shrugged. “It’s dumb.”

  “Tell me anyway?”

  Why not? She wouldn’t cower from a madman, so why would she co
wer from the reality of her own feelings? “You were flirting and I... I dunno. It pissed me off.” She stabbed him with an accusing glare. “Not that I have any claim on you or anything. But we needed to focus on Peanut.”

  His mouth didn’t smile, not exactly, but some small, subtle change happened near his eyes and she knew: she’d amused him.

  Hell, he was always amused. Infuriatingly so.

  “FYI,” he rumbled, somehow making his tone both neutral and knowing, “thanking a person for helping isn’t the same as flirting. Not even close. You, I’ve flirted with. Betty Jo, no.”

  Ronnie crossed her arms and slumped in her seat. Apparently one-night stands hadn’t taught her much about men and all their weird vagaries. “Looked like flirting to me.”

  “Maybe because you’re always so blunt, you don’t get the art of it. In the future, I’ll try harder to show you the difference.”

  Great. If he ramped up the temptation, she was a goner for sure.

  “Also,” he continued, “I’m not an ass who would come on to one woman while I’m with another.”

  “You aren’t with me,” she protested, though the idea enticed.

  “With me, as in nearby,” he clarified.

  Well, thank God she’d been nearby then. To cover those feelings, she complained, “You’re so freaking polite to everyone.”

  That gave him pause. “You already know how I dislike the way my father treats my mom.” Far too serious, he promised, “I would never disrespect you that way.”

  Before she could get too confused by that, he shook his head, saying, “I wouldn’t treat any woman like that.”

  Way to make it clear I’m not special.

  That sentiment certainly wasn’t new. Not that she wanted to be special to him, anyway. She didn’t.

  Uncomfortable with her own uncertainty, Ronnie refocused on the insight he’d just shared. So that’s why he was always so mannered? Made sense, now that she thought about it. God knew, relatives could have such an incredible impact. His father was an inconsiderate person, so Jack went overboard to be polite.

  “As long as we’re having this heart-to-heart, will you answer about your family?”

  Ronnie groaned. He’d let enough time lapse between the question for her to let down her guard, and now she wasn’t certain what to say.

  For years she hadn’t spoken of her family. There’d been no reason because no one had gotten close enough to ask. Somehow, Jack Crews had dug in from the start. How he treated her was...somehow special, and how she reacted to him was equally so.

  If she were honest with herself, and she always tried to be, she wouldn’t mind reclaiming that settled feeling she’d gotten after telling him the gist of her history. Maybe holding the truth inside, protecting it in her heart, insulating it, wasn’t the right answer.

  Maybe, just maybe, that’s why those dark nightmares continued to torment her.

  Eyeing Jack, she saw his emotional stillness as he waited, as if he sensed her indecision and didn’t want to do anything to tip the balance the wrong way. He’d done that from the get-go, understood her better than most. Accepted her in a way few had, including her family.

  Sighing, giving up without much fight at all, she rested back against the seat. “What do you want to know?”

  * * *

  JACK SLOWLY RELEASED a breath he’d held too long. He’d felt her weighing the risks, just as he’d felt the moment she decided to trust him.

  She might not see it for what it was, but he did. Ronnie needed someone she could rely on, and he planned to be it.

  Usually his cordial attitude was easy to maintain. Around Ronnie, not so much. She made him feel things, think things, to an unfamiliar and uncomfortable degree.

  It wasn’t as easy as usual, but he managed to moderate his tone so that he sounded only casually interested when he asked, “Have you ever met your real father?”

  She shook her head. “Naw. What would be the point? Mom says he knew she’d gotten pregnant, but they both had families and he didn’t want his disrupted. What they’d had was a fling, not a commitment, so I get it.” A pensive silence interrupted the emotionless explanation, and afterward her voice held a tentative note of regret, along with acceptance. “She told me once that if he’d been interested, she might have left Dad. He wasn’t, so she didn’t, and here we are.”

  “Why did she do it?”

  “The affair?” Ronnie looked away. “Who knows? Guess she didn’t love Dad, not enough anyway. Or maybe she was bored. I have no idea.”

  “Cheaters cheat,” he said, hoping she didn’t take offense. “I learned that with my dad. I was talking about the big reveal. I know you said your parents were arguing, and that your mother was jealous. But still. Seems like that’d be a secret you’d keep.”

  Ronnie tilted her head. “Is that what you’d do?”

  “I would never cheat in the first place.” He let Ronnie absorb that, wondering why it mattered so much for her to believe him. “But if I did, and I had two grown kids, I’d take it to my grave, not use it as ammunition in an argument.” Doing so made the woman selfish and cruel, the complete reverse of how his mother had raised her sons.

  Ronnie folded the shirt around her, then smoothed it out again. The movements were nervous, a way of giving herself time to think.

  Jack didn’t rush her. Better than most, she understood the repercussions of someone being unfaithful.

  Finally she stilled. “I don’t think cheat is the right word. It sounds insignificant, like you swindled someone at cards. It’s more than that, though.” Her voice lowered. “It’s the worst sort of deception. It steals a person’s faith and their pride. It steals...trust.”

  “Agreed.”

  “I wouldn’t do that. Ever.” He felt her studying his profile, and he felt her searching for the right words. “It’s cowardly.”

  And she was never a coward. “I believe you.”

  It took her a second, and then she nodded. “Thank you. I believe you, too.”

  To Jack, it felt like he’d just gotten past another door. Little by little, Ronnie let him closer. “Do you see your mom?”

  Again she took her time replying, carefully weighing her words. “I haven’t in a long time. They live in Indiana. Not far away, but not close enough that I run into them.”

  He wondered if that was deliberate. “You don’t want to?”

  She snuggled into the shirt like she would a blanket. “When I left, I didn’t know how long I’d be gone. But no one really...came after me, or asked me to return, so the time just stretched out until now, I see more reasons to stay away than return.”

  “That can’t be true.”

  Her lips did that funny little quirk that was part sarcasm, part defense mechanism. “Last I talked to my sister, she said things were better with me away. Mom calls every so often, and she said without me there as a daily reminder, Dad has either forgiven her or chosen to look beyond the affair for the sake of their marriage.”

  Only with one child missing.

  Turning her nose, Ronnie sniffed the collar of his shirt, her eyes closing in a look of pleasure.

  Or comfort.

  Did she try to hide the fact that she was sniffing his shirt, or did she think he wouldn’t notice? He could have told her he noticed everything about her. All the time. He’d never been more aware of a woman.

  “They’re wrong to treat you that way. You realize that, right?”

  “Mom’s apologized,” she said, as if that would help. “I believe her when she says she regrets what happened. She claims that Dad loves me, but he can’t come to grips with the idea of another man touching her, that it’s because of her, not me, that he’s cut me out.” Her narrow shoulder lifted. “Results are the same.”

  Yes, results were the same.

  Given the way they’d dismissed her
so completely, Jack wondered if she really might be better off without them in her life. “Are you curious about your real father?”

  “Not really.” Her lashes, thicker and longer thanks to her makeup, shadowed her gray eyes so that he couldn’t tell if she said the truth or only tried to convince herself.

  What did she look like without all the camouflage? He wanted to find out. He wanted to see her fresh from a shower, no makeup, no jewelry—without her usual masks.

  “What’s one more person who doesn’t want me?” The second the words left her mouth, she laughed. “God, that sounded pathetic, didn’t it? I didn’t mean for it to. I’m satisfied with my life. I feel stronger than I ever have.”

  Stronger—but more alone.

  It was times like this, when shades of vulnerability blunted her in-your-face personality, that he wanted her the most. She looked seductive without trying, female to his male, delicate but with a woman’s will of iron.

  “I’ve learned a lot,” she continued without his prompting. “Now I know I can make it on my own. That’s a liberating feeling.”

  Hoping he hid his thoughts, Jack nodded. He, too, could make it on his own. That didn’t mean he wanted to.

  Yes, he supported himself, handled all his own business, and lived independently. He’d been doing so since he graduated high school. But how awful would it be to lose his mom or Brodie? Charlotte was like a sister and he loved her dearly. And now Mary, his brand-new sister-in-law, held a piece of his heart.

  It wasn’t about needing anyone. It was about family who helped buffer disappointments, who celebrated accomplishments. Who had your back on those occasions when things went south, as they sometimes did. It was someone to listen, and someone to give you shit, each at the appropriate times. It was laughter and bickering, holidays together, and visiting just because.

  It was family, and hers had treated her with cruel disregard.

  Needing to touch her, to feel that electric connection again, Jack reached out, offering his hand.

  Her silver gaze went from his hand, up his arm, over his shoulder to his profile. He could literally feel her sorting out the insinuation in the offer.