by Kay Lyons
“Don’t even think about it.”
“I’m fine now.” Embarrassed, but fine.
A rough laugh erupted from his chest. “Haven’t we been through this once already?” Joe stepped closer and motioned for her to take his hand. “Come on. I’ll help you down.”
She didn’t look at him. If he brought up the kiss, her response was simple. She’d blame it on the heat, on her dizziness. Nothing else.
Who knew, maybe it had been a figment of her imagination. He certainly didn’t act like a man who’d recently had his tongue in her mouth.
Or hers in his.
Ashley reluctantly placed her hand in his and allowed Joe to pull her to her feet, allowed him to hold on to her arms when her head whirled once again and she wavered back and forth where she stood. She had to get off the roof. Go inside and cool off, check on Max and Wilson.
Get away from Joe.
* * *
JOE WAITED UNTIL the hottest part of the day to take his lunch break, then stayed outside under the shade of the willow trees to eat the sandwiches and drink the tea Ashley had left on the table for him.
The thought of her brought a rush of desire so strong he gritted his teeth. She’d looked up at him, so sexy and pretty and natural, and he hadn’t been able to stop himself when she’d pulled him toward her. What a kiss, too.
He leaned his head back against the bark of the tree. She’d tasted good. Like honey and musk and the sweet tea she favored.
And he’d wanted more. So much more. But he needed a job and a roof over his head just as badly. Self-preservation made him end the kiss and distance himself from her.
The screen door opened and shut with a gentle slam. Joe watched as Ashley exited the house with long, loose strides, Max on her hip and a determined expression on her face. An overly full baby bag bounced off her thigh as she walked, but she ignored the nuisance and kept going.
She was dressed in pants that stopped at her calves, sandals and a pretty purple shirt. Her long straight hair was pulled back in her typical ponytail and if he wasn’t mistaken she wore a little makeup. Her lips seemed darker than before, shinier. Her eyes bigger.
Even Max was dressed nicer than Joe had seen him before, sporting a Hawaiian-style shirt and shorts, his thick feet bare. Wherever Ashley and her son were off to, she wanted to make an impression.
Joe wondered if she knew he watched her. Or cared.
One-handed, she removed Max’s car seat from the truck and carried it to the small Honda parked beneath the carport attached to the garage. A few minutes later she was gone.
He sat there a little while longer, long enough for the big brown dog to make an appearance and join him under the shade tree. When he didn’t move, it flopped down beside him.
Joe patted the dog’s head, gave him some water and then got up, determined to put the energy generated by the kiss into something constructive. Who knew what the future would bring—but Joe knew what it wouldn’t.
* * *
THANK YOU SO MUCH for your help. That copy machine was giving me fits and the gardening club is meeting in the diner right now. I just had to have the information about the new ivy-leafed geranium.” The woman behind her called out a goodbye and then the door to the library opened and closed.
Ashley didn’t turn from her perusal of the latest releases until she heard someone walk up to her.
“Can I help you?”
Inhaling deeply, she forced herself to stop imagining the pinpricks of awareness she’d felt when she’d carried Max from the house to the car, and pasted a bright smile to her face. She turned to the librarian and her smile faltered, because instead of an older woman in sensible shoes and glasses as she’d imagined, she saw a teenager in the process of blowing a bubble who didn’t bother making eye contact when she began straightening the books on the shelves.
“Oh, uh, hi,” she said awkwardly. “I hope so.” She swallowed again and hefted Max higher. “I’m, um, here to check on classes.”
“The GED class begins on Monday, seven to nine.”
Ashley shifted her weight from foot to foot. “No, I—I want classes for my son.”
The girl looked at Max. “Oh.”
Max grinned and ducked his head shyly, one little fist shaking as though in greeting.
“We’ve got a couple kiddie classes,” the girl stated as she walked back to the desk and searched the top until she held up a piece of paper. “Here’s the list.”
Ashley accepted the sheet and checked it over. “Do I need to bring anything for him?”
“That’s up to you. We have apple and grape juice, cookies and the moms usually hang around to take care of any problems.”
That meant she’d be standing there with a group of strange women. “These look…nice,” she said. And they did. There were puppet shows and reading hours according to age, held in the morning and early afternoon. For adults there were continuing education classes and book clubs during the evening.
“A singles book club?”
The teenager popped her gum again. “Yeah, they meet once a month.”
The library door opened behind her and Ashley watched as the girl’s cheeks filled with color before she lowered her lashes.
“Hi, Doctor B. This, um, lady’s interested in the book club. Maybe you could tell her about it?” She spun around and practically ran down an aisle toward the back.
Ashley stared after the girl and wondered at her response, then turned and wanted to smack herself for being so oblivious. The blushing, the stammering. How could she have forgotten Max’s new doctor was a hottie? Dr. Booker also had “good stock” roots—he’d taken over his grandfather’s medical practice and had spent the summers of his youth visiting.
“Mrs. Cade?” He smiled. “I thought that was you. Finally getting around to checking out the town, huh?” He reached over and ruffled Max’s curly hair. “Hey, Max. You get that tooth in yet?”
Max’s head immediately fell to her shoulder and the doctor chuckled. “So, you’re interested in the book club?”
“I don’t know.”
“Come on, why not?”
“I’m kind of busy. I just asked about it.”
The doctor’s green eyes softened with compassion. “It might be a good way of getting out there again,” he murmured, reminding her that he already knew her marital history thanks to filling out Max’s paperwork. “We’re harmless. Single in a small town. Mostly we hang out and eat while we talk about the latest bestseller, but occasionally a couple members will hook up and wander off to do their own thing.” He gave her a smile. “So how about it?”
So how about what? Getting Max into a class was one thing, but did she really want to join a bunch of small-town singles? The pressure to fit in and knowing she wouldn’t—she honestly didn’t know how—had her backpedaling fast. “Right now, I’m just interested in getting Max out with other kids. We might come to story hour.”
And pray Max wasn’t the only one to make friends.
The doctor patted Max on the back, still smiling, and earned a smile of Max’s in return. “I suppose that’ll work to start. I hope to see you around.”
“Maybe. I’d better get going.”
“Don’t work too hard on that house.”
Ashley managed to hold a smile tacked to her lips until she left the library. Head down, she walked to where she’d parked and unlocked the car door only to look up and see the older lady who’d been making copies in the library finish speaking to a man outside the barber shop. Three steps later she entered the diner.
Ashley’s arm tightened around Max’s rump. Did she dare? A singles club versus a gardening club full of older women…gee, which to choose. Weren’t all old women supposed to like babies?
She licked her lips and imagined she tasted Joe.
No, no, no. Joe was not the answer to her problems. She had to use her head here, figure out how to insinuate herself into the town’s workings like Wilson said.
She kissed Max
and sighed. She really did need to know how to landscape and garden because it would have to be done before she opened for business. Decision made, she braced herself.
“Come on, Max.” She locked the car door again and walked to the curb. “Let’s go see if we can figure out what a geranium is.”
Two minutes later Ashley endured the stares the best she could, waiting for the ladies to look their fill. Several immediately turned their heads and began to whisper.
“May we help you?” A silver-haired woman with money written all over her smiled weakly. “Are you looking for someone?”
Ashley inhaled and tried to gather her scattered nerves. “I heard the garden club was meeting and I thought I—I might sit in.”
“Oh. Oh, well—”
“We don’t offer babysitting,” one woman snapped loudly.
So much for her theory of them liking kids.
“And we’re quite a bit older than you,” another added.
She stiffened at their tones. “There’s an age requirement?”
A few of the dozen or so ladies exchanged glances and Ashley figured they were searching for some excuse to send her away. She wasn’t one of them, they’d made that clear.
“Nonsense, dear. Rita simply means you might find us old biddies boring. We’re open to one and all as our charter says.” The lady to Ashley’s left wore thick black frames that dwarfed her eyes, and dress in a blinding shade of purple, reminding her of the poem regarding age and purple clothes.
But she didn’t want to force herself on anyone. What good would that do?
Hearing Wilson’s voice in her head, she opened her mouth to say she’d remembered another appointment, some excuse that would get her out of there even if it was the coward’s way out, when she caught a woman giving her a nasty nose-in-the-air glare.
“Well, dear?” the woman in purple asked. “Would you like to sit down with me? Betty’s so excited about the geranium she found on the computer.”
Ashley glanced around at the women’s varying expressions and swallowed. Some of them obviously didn’t want her there for whatever reason, but the lady in purple seemed kind, genuine.
“Thank you,” she murmured, slipping into the empty seat beside her, Max on her lap. She got him settled while a matronly woman got up and began distributing copies. Sure enough, Betty ran out after giving the lady in purple hers.
“Not a problem, Betty. We’ll share,” the woman said quickly.
“No problem,” Ashley repeated, trying to smile as Betty walked away. She turned her attention to the woman beside her, and in response the older lady scooted the sheet of paper into the middle of the table. “So,” she said softly, “that’s a geranium?”
Chapter 8
WHEN JOE ENTERED the house that evening he was hungry, beyond worn out, smelled of sweat and tar—and he’d never felt better. Working outside free of supervision or armed guards had a way of making a man appreciate the little things in life.
“Dinner’s almost ready. I got a late start and—” Ashley broke off with a gasp, her eyes wide.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re burnt to a crisp! What were you thinking?”
She rushed toward him, the concern in her eyes softening the bite of her words. One hand held a spoon with some sort of creamy concoction dripping off the end, but her other hand was clenched at her side as though she wanted to reach out and touch him but wasn’t about to.
Smart girl.
“It’s fine. I’ve been sunburned before.”
“But…this is bad. I’ve got burn cream. You can put it on after you take a cool shower.”
“What’re you sayin’, missy? Don’t fix nothin’ for me, I’m leavin’.”
Ashley turned her head toward the living room. “I know, Wilson, you told me.”
Joe watched her with a frown. “He’s not eating with us?” He didn’t want to sit alone at the table with her and Max. It was too cozy. Too tempting.
Reminded him of the quiet aftermath following the kiss they’d shared on the roof.
“No, he’s—”
“Goin’ to bingo at the hall,” Wilson informed him as he came into the room dressed in tan pants and a short-sleeved striped shirt. “Used to go every Friday night until I had my surgery.”
“To see his girlfriend,” Ashley teased.
“She ain’t my girlfriend,” Wilson grumbled. “Myrtle’s just pretty to look at.”
A car horn sounded from outside and Wilson continued on toward the kitchen door faster than Joe had ever seen him move.
“That’s my ride. Saw them comin’ up the drive. Two widows from Baxter.” Wilson pushed the screen door open with his walker, pausing long enough to wink at Joe. “You two have fun.”
Joe stared at the old man in confusion.
He waited until the car had pulled away then turned and walked over to the screen door. He groaned. Sure enough, just looking up put the side of the roof Ashley and he had slid down in perfect view. Wilson must have seem them on the roof today. But instead of ordering him to keep his distance like before, Wilson was now leaving them alone?
What had caused the change of heart?
“He was so excited about going out tonight I hated to give him a hard time. He hasn’t gone anywhere except the doctor since his surgery.”
Joe grunted. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Wilson had crossed the floor in such a hurry, the only danger he’d faced was going so fast he might have tumbled over the walker in his haste. “I’ll go shower.”
Ashley nodded, now back in front of the stove. “Take your time. Dinner won’t be ready for about twenty minutes or so.”
Joe headed up the stairs off the kitchen instead of walking through to the front of the house. He passed a lot of doors along the way, but paused by one in particular. The one belonging to Max.
An oak crib sat angled in the corner, a rocking chair beside it. A colorful round rug covered most of the wood floor, and ended at the base of a dresser and chest of drawers. An old-fashioned wallpaper border of antique toys wrapped around the cream-colored walls. All in all the room wasn’t fancy, but he thought it suited the woman who’d decorated it. Airy and simple, warm and homey. The perfect room for a baby boy to grow and learn and live.
Scowling, Joe turned on his booted heel and continued on down the long hallway to his room.
* * *
ASHLEY HAD JUST FINISHED putting everything on the table when she remembered she hadn’t given Joe the burn cream. She found it in the medicine cabinet, then peeked in on Max and saw him sleeping contentedly in his downstairs crib.
She’d leave the cream on Joe’s dresser. That way he’d see it as soon as he came out of the bathroom. With that thought in mind, she rushed up the stairs to Joe’s room and had just walked inside when the bathroom door opened. Joe stepped out dressed in jeans and holding his shirt in his hand.
She licked her suddenly dry lips, unable to take her gaze from him. “I—uh, sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I thought I could leave this here before you got out,” she said in a rush.
Joe didn’t comment as he moved forward to take it from her. Her attention strayed and landed on the scar that trailed from his neck to his chest. With his sunburned skin, the scarred, raised flesh stood out even more than it had before.
She motioned with her hand. “Your back’s really bad.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Joe, about today—”
“It shouldn’t have happened.”
“Yeah.” She hated their stilted conversation considering they’d exchanged jokes and laughter on the roof before the kiss had changed things. “So if we both agree that it won’t happen again, you won’t take it the wrong way if I offer to help put this on your back. Right?”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth she called herself an idiot. What was she doing?
Joe hesitated a long moment, glanced at his back in the mirror and grimaced when his sunburned skin stretched with the
act. “Thanks.”
He turned for her to apply the cream, which left her having to get even closer.
She flipped the cap open and squirted some of the cream into her hands before setting the bottle on the dresser. Ashley rubbed her hands together, then paused, nerves attacking her good intentions.
A little late now, don’t you think? You’ve already kissed him.
Afraid she’d run from the room like a coward, she inhaled and flattened her hands to his shoulders. Joe flinched.
“Oh—Sorry.” She eased the pressure. “I didn’t— I haven’t— This is really going to hurt later.”
“It’ll be fine. I tan pretty easily so even though it’s red now, it’ll turn.”
Joe’s voice was husky, filled with a tension she identified all too easily. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, there was something between them. Attraction, interest. Something.
And a part of her couldn’t help but feel torn. She’d loved her husband. Truly loved him. He’d been her best friend, her confidante. Her safety net when things got bad. She wasn’t ready to let go of that.
So why was she reacting so strongly to Joe?
Exposed to air and the dryness of his skin, the cream disappeared and she reached for the tube once more. Joe stood still, tense, his breathing a little rough.
She smoothed her hands lower to his mid-back, and felt every tendon and muscle, the smooth, soft skin that hid the strength beneath. Up along his spine over the name encircled by a heart. She stared at it, only then realizing that the tattoo was in honor of his daughter. Josie. Her fingers spread the cream higher, to the base of his neck where a white scar trailed to a jagged end.
“Where did you get this?” When he didn’t comment, she grabbed the tube again, keeping one hand on his back in case he thought she was finished and tried to pull away. Asking him a question while his back was turned was one thing, but staring at him face-to-face? No thanks.