His gaze warmed. "You might say that."
Something about that look made me feel wonderful all over. Still, I felt compelled to finish. "But you hardly know me."
He shook his head. "I know you better than you think."
Feeling almost flirtatious now, I gazed up at him through my lashes. "So, what do you think you know?"
His lips curved into the hint of a smile, and he leaned a fraction closer. For a moment, I thought he might kiss me.
But he didn't.
Instead, he said something that drenched my warm, gooey glow with a cold, hard splash. "I think you're a nice person."
Chapter 49
I froze. I was a nice person? His words echoed in my brain. Nice? Person? Okay, it wasn't an insult or anything. But it was nothing like what I'd been hoping to hear.
Still, I tried to smile. "Thanks. I, uh, think you're a nice person, too."
He frowned. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
And it was true. Absolutely nothing was wrong. It was fine. I was just a little disappointed, that's all.
I mean, when I fantasized about someone, I never found myself thinking, "Oh, take me to heaven, you nice person, you."
I lifted my wine glass and took a long, steady drink before returning it to the flat surface of the railing. Already, the glass was half-empty. Or was it half-full?
In my current state-of-mind, I didn't want to speculate.
I cleared my throat. "So, I guess I'd better get talking, huh?"
Joel studied my face. "You know I meant that as a compliment, right?"
"Sure. I know." I ran a nervous hand through my hair. "And I meant it as a compliment, too." Pushing aside my disappointment, I said, "Seriously, you've been really great." I thought of my car, now sitting miraculously in my driveway. "And your brothers, too. They're, uh, also nice. For helping, I mean."
What the hell was I even saying? Only one brother had helped, and Joel hadn't been happy about it. But my mind was so jumbled, I could hardly think. I was nice. Joel was nice. His brothers were nice. Cripes, who'd be nice next? Attila the Hun?
Joel said, "Except they're not nice. You need to remember that."
Distracted by my own stupidity, I murmured, "Uh, right. What are they again?"
He frowned. "The opposite of nice."
Still preoccupied, I murmured, "Nasty?"
He stared at me for a long moment, looking almost disturbed.
Damn it. Now, too late, he had my full attention, and I was wishing that I could take back that last comment. That particular word, nasty, after all, did have certain sexual connotations. But at least it was more interesting than "nice."
The way some people looked at it, nasty was exciting. It was bold and daring. It broke taboos and shattered conventions. As for me, I'd never gone the nasty route, and probably wouldn’t succeed at it, even if I tried.
And I knew why.
Joel was right. I was nice.
Boring.
Civilized.
Conventional.
Like a four-door sedan or a Saint Bernard.
My shoulders sagged. No wonder he was taking it slow. I was a nice person, heaven help me.
Joel reached for his own glass and took an even longer drink than I had. When he returned the glass to the railing, it was nearly empty.
Well, this was just great. I'd driven him to drink.
Looking to say something, I said, "Wow, you must really like cabernet, huh?"
"Something like that."
From the look on his face, the "something" was the need to wash away something unpleasant. I knew what it was – my stupid "nasty" comment. See? Even when I used the term, I was an utter failure.
Probably, he was picturing his brothers naked or something. From the look on his face, it was an image he didn't enjoy.
I could totally relate. Sure, they were great-looking at all, but they weren't the ones who kept me awake at night, with thoughts that made me blush in the light of day.
And now, I'd put the wrong X-rated images into Joel's head. No wonder he looked disturbed. If I had brothers, I wouldn't want to think of them as nasty, with all of the naked implications that went along with it.
Hoping to break the tension, I tried to make a joke of it. "Nasty brothers." I gave a nervous laugh. "Like with no clothes on or something. I mean, who wants to picture that, right?"
Now, it was his turn to freeze. "What?"
I cleared my throat. "I mean, because nasty and naked kind of go together, you know?"
He was still staring, looking even less happy now.
Desperate for a recovery, I blurted out, "Not that I'm thinking of them naked or anything."
He stared at me for a long moment. And then, in a tight voice, he said, "Good to know."
It was definitely time for me to shut up. If I were an airplane, I'd be going down in flames, big-time. I reached for the only parachute I had – my glass of wine. I lifted it to my lips and downed the rest of it. I returned the now-empty glass to the railing and looked longingly at the bottle. If I grabbed it and guzzled, would that be nasty? Or just pathetic?
Pathetic, definitely.
Reluctantly, I looked back to Joel. His expression was so cold, it gave me a shiver.
Talk about awkward. The more I talked, the less he liked it. At this point, I didn't even know what to say. What was that old phrase? When you find yourself in a hole, the first thing you should do is stop digging?
I mentally threw away my shovel, along with any hope of not looking like a complete imbecile.
After a long, tense moment, Joel asked, "Which one were you picturing?"
"What?" I felt my eyes widen in horror. "Oh, my God. You don't mean your brothers, do you?"
Joel gave a loose shrug. "You brought it up. Not me."
Suddenly, I was wishing I had dug a hole, the real kind, so I could throw myself into it and hide from my humiliation.
And now, heaven help me, I had to explain. It was either that, or let him think that I'd been dreaming of his brothers in the buff.
I tried to smile. "I brought it up, because you looked bothered by my stupid 'nasty' comment. It just made me wonder what you were picturing." I looked away. "So I was trying to lighten things up. You know?"
Right. Because nothing says "smile" like "Let's envision your brothers naked."
Joel's voice, softer now, reclaimed my attention. "That's not the thing that was bothering me."
I turned to look. "Then what was?"
"You looked hurt, and I didn't know why. I still don’t." He studied my face. "What'd I say?"
He looked so sincere that I had to confess. "Don't get me wrong. I'm glad that you think I'm a nice person." I hesitated. "It's just that I know that's not very exciting." I tried to laugh. "But I guess we can't all be the life of the party, huh?"
"You think 'nice' is a bad thing?"
"No. Of course not. I mean, we all want nice friends, right?"
Joel leaned closer. "Let me tell you a secret."
"What?"
"I don't like you as a friend."
Even though I'd already suspected as much, his words were a balm to my jangled nerves. And yet, he was missing the point, so I tried again. "Right. I mean, I know, because we've kissed and stuff. So it's not like I think you're repulsed by me or anything."
"Repulsed? You're kidding, right?"
Damn it. The more I talked, the worse I sounded. "I'm just saying, nice isn't terribly sexy, you know?" My face was flaming now. If I was lucky, the darkness hid the worst of it. And if I was unlucky? I only prayed he had a tomato fetish.
Joel looked at me for a long moment. "You're wrong."
"I am?"
He nodded. "Wanna know what I think?"
"What?"
"Nice girls? They're sexy as hell."
Chapter 50
My breath caught. Suddenly, he wasn't looking at me like I was merely a nice person. He was looking at me like I was the only girl in the world.
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That look only solidified something that deep in my heart, I already knew. I wanted him, and I didn't want to wait until some arbitrary timeframe when I knew him better.
After all, I knew everything that was important. He'd come through for me when practically everyone else had let me down. I hadn't asked him to, but he had. He was amazing – strong and thoughtful, with a wild streak that sent my pulse jumping.
In fact, it was jumping now, and not only because he was irresistible.
It was because I knew all too well that happiness could slip away at a moment's notice, and that if you didn't, at least once in a while, enjoy life's blessings when you had the chance, those singular moments could slip away, leaving you cold and empty, lost in a house that was way too big for only one person.
But tonight, I didn't feel lost, and he'd just called me sexy. So, with a whispered "thank you," I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his. His lips were soft and full, and so sweet that all of my doubts vanished in an instant. I leaned into him, loving the feel of his body, so hard and tight, as his mouth moved against my own.
I let my tongue dart out between our lips, and my pulse gave an extra little jump when our tongues met in the middle. He tasted like red wine and felt like forbidden fruit. I wanted more. So much more.
But already, he was pulling away, just like he always did. His hands slid from my back and settled on my hips, even as he took a half-step backward, as if to put some distance between us.
I wanted to whimper in frustration.
Why did he pull back? I studied his face, but found no clue. It was like the windows of his soul had been deliberately shuttered, blocking me from seeing anything inside. Breathlessly, I asked, "Is something wrong?"
When he didn't respond, I made a move to pull back further. But to my surprise, he didn't let go. In a quiet voice, he said, "You don't owe me anything."
I blinked. "What?"
"Forget what Derek said. It's bullshit."
I gave a confused shake of my head. "What are you talking about?" And then, my stomach sank as the realization hit home. "Oh, my God. You mean that thing about paying you with, uh…"
"Yeah."
Neither one of us said the word.
Pussy.
The word, still unspoken, echoed in my brain. I didn't know whether to be impressed by his chivalry or insulted by his assumption. Trying to sort things out, I pulled back again, now more forcefully. This time, he let go.
I stared up at him. "Let me get this straight. You think I was…" I paused, searching for the right way to say this. "…coming onto you as what? Some sort of payment?"
In front of me, Joel gave a loose shrug.
"Oh, my God. You did." I looked away, and a scoffing sound escaped my lips. "And just imagine how I pay the gas bill."
In a flash of insanity, it struck me that life would be a whole lot easier if I were that kind of person. I wasn't bad-looking. And I had family fame on my side. No doubt, I could pay a lot more than my gas bill if I were willing to get down and dirty to make ends meet.
Joel's voice, softer now, broke into my thoughts. "That's not what I meant."
Sure, it wasn't.
And yet, the snarky response died on my lips. He wasn't some bill collector from the gas company. He was Joel, the guy who'd been coming to my rescue non-stop. And what was I doing? Getting all pissy, just because he'd wounded my dignity.
I took a deep breath and plastered on a smile. "You know what? I'm not being fair." Again, I considered my car. And my lawn. And the thing with my relatives. "You've been really wonderful, and you deserve more than…" I made a vague gesture with my hands. "….this, whatever it is."
"No," he said. "I don't."
I gave him a perplexed look. "What?"
"That's not what I’m saying."
"Then what are you saying?"
"That I don't deserve anything. That's my point."
In my frustration, I didn't know who to blame for all the confusion. Me, for throwing myself out there? Him, for sending mixed messages? Or Derek, for injecting the slow-working poison that was paralyzing everything.
And I had to wonder, did Joel truly believe that I was trying to repay one service with another? If so, he was out of his mind. And besides, with as much as he'd done, a single so-called service would never be enough. I'd need more than one night, and maybe some props, like heated massage oils or crotchless panties.
The thought was so ridiculous that I almost laughed, but not in a good way. "So tell me," I said, "do girls normally sleep with you when you do something nice for them?"
"No."
"Well, that's a relief." Was it? I didn't know. At this point, I hardly knew even what I was saying.
He asked, "And you wanna know why?"
"Why?"
"Because I don't do nice things."
That was a lie. It had to be. I'd only known Joel a short while, and already, he'd done too many nice things to count.
I didn't bother hiding my disbelief. "Sure you don't."
"I don't," he insisted.
I studied his face. To my surprise, he looked utterly sincere. I felt my brow wrinkle in confusion. "But why not?"
"It's complicated."
"Oh, come on," I said. "That's just a cop-out."
"Maybe." He moved forward, closing the gap between us. "But forget that. Ask me the right question."
There was a right question? Whatever it was, I had no idea. "What question is that?"
"Why I did 'something nice' for you."
"I already know why," I said. "It was because you felt guilty. You know, for how rude you were in the beginning."
He gave a low laugh. "Trust me. I can be a lot ruder than that."
Now this, I believed. But I still didn't know what that had to do with anything now. "So?"
"So, I don't normally make up for it."
"Why not?" I asked.
"You want the truth?"
"Definitely."
"Because those other people?" Again, his voice grew quiet. "They weren't you."
My breath caught. "What?"
He nodded. "From the moment I first saw you, it was different."
I would've called him crazy, except I could totally relate. The first time I'd seen him was in the boardroom. Even then, I'd been unable to look away. But still, I had to ask, "Different how?"
"I don't know. I can't explain it. But you've gotta remember something."
"What?"
"In that meeting, I wanted to knock Derek on his ass. But I didn't." His gaze met mine. "Because of you."
He'd already told me something similar, but I wasn't quite sure what he was getting at now. "So you're saying, you stopped yourself for my sake?"
Joel gave a slow nod. "Then. And now."
At last, everything clicked. "So that's why you're turning me down?"
"That's what you think? That I'm turning you down?"
"Aren't you?"
"No." His eyes warmed. "I'm just saying, you don't owe me anything." His gaze dipped to my lips. "I can wait."
"Me, too." I gave a nervous smile. "It's just that, well, I don't want to. I mean, I know what April told you, and actually, she was right. But with you, that's not the way I feel. And just so you know, this has nothing to do with the lawn. Or my car. Or whatever else I’m forgetting."
He smiled. "Yeah?"
I nodded. "Yeah. Definitely."
He leaned forward until our lips almost touched. And then, in a low whisper, he said, "Well, too bad."
My mouth fell open. "Too bad?"
His eyes filled with mischief. And then, he kissed me, hard and hungry. I felt his tongue dancing against mine, and his pelvis pressing hard against my hip. His hands drifted lower, grazing the seat of my shorts. I gave a muffled moan, and pressed my hips so tight against his that I could feel his hardness surging against my stomach.
He wanted me, too. I was absolutely sure of it.
And yet, to my infinite frustration, he pulled
away. What the hell?
He said, "But you do owe me something."
I was so breathless I could hardly think. "What?"
"You know what. So you'd better get talking."
I didn't know whether to laugh or scream. "God, you are such a tease." I wasn't even kidding. Already, I was slick with wanting him, and it was beyond obvious that he wanted me, too.
And yet, the way it looked, he wasn't going to back down. I let my gaze travel the length of him. I wanted him so bad I could taste it. Or maybe that was just the wine, lingering like that amazing kiss.
He flashed me a grin. "We can do this all night." He shrugged. "Or something else. It's up to you."
Talk about cocky.
And yet, the prospect was irresistible. So in a rush, I told him almost everything that was relevant – how Derek and I had been really close until recently, how Derek's dad controlled the estate, and finally, how the estate needed a lot of work and wouldn’t be fully mine until I turned twenty-five.
The explanation didn't take nearly as long as I'd anticipated, maybe two minutes at the most, probably because I glossed over a ton of details, in particular the sorry state of my finances. But I had my reasons. If that wasn't a mood-killer, I didn't know what was.
I finished by saying, "So there you go. Are you happy now?"
"With what you just told me?" He gave me a smile. "Hell no."
"So why are you smiling?"
He leaned forward and brushed his lips against my ear. And then, in a voice filled with sin, he said, "Because in five seconds or so, I'm gonna carry your sweet ass upstairs, and give you something else to think about."
Chapter 51
Before I could say anything in response, he'd already swooped me up into his arms and started carrying me toward the back patio door.
And then, I was laughing. No. Giggling. "Wait. What are you doing?"
He didn't even pause. "You know what I'm doing. Now, tell me which way."
Already, we were at the patio door. "Oh, come on," I laughed. "You can't be serious."
"Why not?"
"Because it's too far."
With one hand, he opened the door and then pushed us through it. "That's what you think."
Something Tattered (Joel Bishop Book 1) Page 19
