by Lori Foster
“I need to get going, too.” Joy slid off the stool and gathered up her purse. “It’s time for me to get Jack from school.” She paused, smiling at Maris, then at him. “Thank you both. Really. If I can ever return the favor, please let me know.”
She already had, by giving him the opportunity to spend time with Maris under different, better circumstances. With Jack around, Maris couldn’t give him hell—and he couldn’t come on to her. Not overtly, anyway.
They’d be forced into neutral ground, and that had to be a good thing. “You’re welcome, hon. Anytime.”
The second Joy walked through the doorway, Daron felt it. A ratcheting up of awareness. Throbbing sexual tension.
His own heavier heartbeat.
He was now alone with Maris.
Neither of them spoke. He still stared at the door, giving himself a moment to think.
After he managed to plaster on a smile, he turned to her.
Ugh...not good. Her crossed arms tightened and her eyes narrowed. Over the years he’d learned to read Maris’s many moods, and this one proclaimed he was in the doghouse.
“Problem?” Maybe if he played dumb...
“You know what the problem is.”
Yeah, he did. Pretending an exaggerated wince, he leaned on the counter. “Well, two things can be true, right? Yes, I manipulated that situation just a bit so I could visit with you.” Preferably without her scowling at him the entire time.
“Daron...” She made his name an exasperated groan.
“But.” He let that sink in, because he did have a caveat. “I like Joy, too, you know. You don’t have exclusive interest in seeing her loosen up a little.”
Miraculously, her expression softened. She even dropped her arms as she sighed. “Okay, so you’re also her friend.”
“And you know Joy, so you know that took some doing. Friendly, yes. She always is. But accepting me as a real friend? She’s...cautious.” That seemed like as good a word as any.
“Same,” Maris said. “She’s only recently opened up to me.”
“About sex.” Daron nodded as if that made perfect sense. “Maybe we should be thanking Royce for creating the change in circumstances.”
Her lips lifted into a grin. “Maybe.”
“I like seeing her happier. Plus Royce is a great guy. Jack sure adores him.”
“Whoa.” Leaning down, Maris crossed her arms on the counter. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
The words hit his brain but he didn’t quite follow, not with Maris that much closer to him, her breasts sitting on her crossed arms, plumped up in an impossible-to-ignore way. What his brain did was conjure an image of her in that exact posture, but maybe with a low-cut sweater on instead of her usual, no-nonsense crew neck top. Something that would show some cleavage.
Or more.
Naked would be good, too. If he ever got her to say yes, he’d reenact this exact scenario, just to feed his muse.
God, he had it bad when his imagination with Maris was better than reality with anyone else.
To cover for his male-brain deficiency, he said, “What does that mean?”
“Joy doesn’t want to get locked down with anyone, and from what she’s said, neither does Royce. She just wants to live a little again.”
Of all the... Daron snorted. “Yeah, right.”
“She deserves to enjoy herself,” Maris stated with conviction. “Not only as a mother, but as a woman.”
“Couldn’t agree more. Every woman deserves that.” He knew she’d caught his point when her gaze shifted away. “But I also overheard the two of you talking.”
In clear complaint, Maris muttered, “There’s an awful lot of that going on lately.”
Daron grinned. “Maybe if there weren’t so many fascinating discussions happening to catch our attention, the men wouldn’t stop to listen.”
She gave him that one, saying, “It has been fascinating, hasn’t it? The change in Joy is incredible. I nudged her, yes, but she was already headed in the right direction.”
From what he’d heard, Maris was doing more than nudging, but Joy didn’t seem to mind. “They’re already involved. If they’re saying they aren’t, they’re just fooling themselves.”
Maris rolled her eyes. “I know you’re the expert on detached relationships—”
“Wait, what?” Daron was far from detached when it came to her.
“But you can’t speak for Joy or Royce.”
He let the first part of that go and said instead, “Have you seen them together?”
She shrugged. “You know, women can...” Her mouth closed.
Oh, but he knew what she’d been about to say, so he finished for her. “Women can enjoy sex for the sake of sex. I’m aware.”
“Of course you are.”
The fact that she laughed after saying it didn’t take the sting from the words. “More importantly,” he asked, “are you aware of it? Because from what I can tell, you haven’t—”
She smashed her fingers over his mouth, then lowered her voice in another warning. “Don’t pretend you know me, Daron.”
Yeah...so. Her hand on his lips smelled like fresh sugar cookies, and just the fact that she touched him, touched his mouth, caused his balls to clench. He considered options for all of a split second, then for another second he tried to talk himself out of it—to no avail. He gave in and prodded the seam of her first two fingers with the tip of his tongue.
Her eyes flared, warmed, and she snatched her hand away. “Did you just lick me?”
That kind of talk wasn’t helping his balls to relax. “Yeah.” Shit. That sounded like a feral growl so he cleared his throat and tried again, striving for indifference. “You touched, I reacted.”
For the first time in forever, deep pink washed her face.
A blush. On Maris? Oh, now that was interesting.
She looked him over, calculating...something. “So you’re saying if I touch you again—” she reached out one finger to lightly prod his shoulder “—I can expect...what?” Proving she had a torturous mean streak, she whispered, “Another lick?”
Full. Blown. Boner.
That’s what she could expect. He resisted the urge to clear his throat again. “I aim to please.”
“Wonderful. Then please be on your way so I can get back to work.”
Such a cruel, cruel woman. Daron caught her hand before she’d completely straightened. “Maris.”
She gave him a look so sultry he felt singed. “Daron?”
Of its own accord, his thumb drifted over the smooth, sugar-scented skin of her wrist. “Gotta admit, I like it when you tease me.”
She gave a playful shrug. “It’s payback, because you’re always teasing me.”
“Flirting, more than teasing. It’s a habit now.”
“A bad habit,” she pointed out.
“Oh, I dunno.” She wasn’t pulling away, so Daron slid his hand up her forearm in a featherlight caress, until he reached her upper arm just above her elbow. The cotton T-shirt was soft, but not like her skin. “I can’t believe anything with you is bad, although I know I’d enjoy it more if you were just a little more receptive.”
“But then, would I enjoy it?”
Such a loaded question. He looked into her eyes and made a heated promise. “I’d make damn sure you did.”
Her lips parted. Better still, her gaze dropped to his mouth. Daron held his breath.
“You’re younger than me.”
Not at all what he’d expected. “A couple years,” he said, dismissing the age difference. “It’s nothing.”
“Six years,” she countered. “With a decade of conflicting perspective added in.”
“Perspective?” He’d rather talk about licking, but since she brought it up... “What do you mean?”
“Ou
tlook. Attitude.” She came closer, her words going breathless. “Priorities.”
What did she know of his priorities? He was about to ask when she closed the space between them, putting her mouth to his.
Oh, hell, yeah. Daron nearly groaned aloud. After wanting her so long, a single kiss equaled a massive accomplishment. She wanted to talk about priorities? She’d been a priority to him for longer than he wanted to remember.
Now that she finally wanted him, too, he wasn’t about to let her get away.
Catching the back of her neck under the fall of her ponytail, Daron kept her close while they fell into a hot, openmouthed, hungry kiss.
God, she tasted good, even better than he’d ever imagined. And this close, various scents filled his head. Sugar, yes. Maris was forever baking for the camp store customers and the employees. Feminine warmth, too, because damn it all, that warmth had a fragrance and it intoxicated him.
In contrast, he picked up the scents of lemons from her shampoo, and something floral in her lotion. All combined, it equaled Maris, a fantasy come to life.
He wanted closer. He wanted every part of her against every part of him.
Damn the counter between them.
And damn the open front door that meant anyone could walk in.
Knowing he had to do this right, that he had to consider Maris and all the things that mattered most to her, Daron lightly cupped her shoulders and started a slow retreat.
A nip to her bottom lip. A lick to her upper. A kiss to the corner of her mouth and then her chin.
She wouldn’t want to be caught making out over the counter where she served customers. More than anyone he knew, Maris lived and breathed her work. She had a reputation and never, not in a million years, would he want it to feel tarnished because she got busted fooling around with him at work.
It was one of the harder things he’d done in the last decade, but he gradually ended the kiss.
“Mmm,” she murmured, eyes still closed, body slightly swaying and her breath heavy. “That was perfect.”
Perfect. Yeah, exactly the description he would use, because she was perfect. “We should try this again,” he suggested, his voice low and deep. “Maybe in a place where we’re guaranteed some privacy.”
Smiling, she slowly opened her heavy eyes. Through kiss-dampened lips, she whispered, “Maybe.”
He needed no more encouragement than that. “Maris—”
“But not tonight.” She licked her lips, and managed to clear her gaze. “Not even this weekend.”
Well, hell. How long did he have to wait? “What are we talking here?”
Drifting her fingertips through his hair—something she’d never done before—she wore a look of barely banked curiosity.
Daron had the urge to smooth his hair back down. He rarely did more than a quick combing of his unruly mop, followed by smashing on a ball cap.
Given her touch, he was glad he’d skipped the hat today.
“A few things, Daron.”
Anything. Trying not to sound that anxious, he replied, “Yeah?”
“You’re tempting.”
Hell, yeah. He lifted his brows, waiting.
“But I’ve been focused on...other things for most of my life. I have a set of rules I follow, and they don’t include getting involved with someone like you.”
He wasn’t cut out for too many rules. “What do you mean, someone like me?” Was she still hung up on the age thing? Ridiculous. He was twenty-five, not eighteen.
She glanced toward the open door, making him aware of voices approaching. “Customers are coming.”
“Now wait a minute! You can’t leave me hanging.” Were they going to happen or not?
“I’m sorry. Really.” She touched his hand in a gesture of sincerity. “Rule number one is never ignore the job, and I’m about to have customers.”
For a woman like Maris, would he ever come first?
“Let me think about things and I’ll get back to you.” After patting his hand, she retreated to put Joy’s coffee cup away and wipe off the counter.
Was he really going to feel insulted? He’d been aware of her for years. He’d wanted her forever. She knew that, and damn it, she wanted him, too.
And yet, after that kiss, she needed more time to think?
Yes, apparently he felt insulted. Straightening away, Daron waited until she got close again, then said, “You do that.”
His indignation only made her grin. “Relax. We’ll both still be here Monday. We’ll talk then.”
Why did he have his doubts? “If you say so.”
Now she outright laughed. As two campers strolled in, she leaned closer to say, “We promised Joy we’d watch Jack on Sunday, along with a rowdy puppy, so whatever you’re thinking or feeling, put a lid on it for now.”
Call him easy, but he liked this new casual vibe on her. “How am I supposed to do that?”
She winked. “Let the anticipation build. That’s what I plan to do.”
With that parting remark, she greeted the campers, and happily took their orders for hamburgers.
She seemed unaffected, while he was anything but.
Walking out, Daron had to wonder how his ingenious plan to infiltrate her space with a kid and a dog as allies had somehow morphed into one more way for Maris to torture him.
Chapter Six
It was awkward, Joy thought, having others know her intentions for Royce. Maris was one thing; she’d enjoyed having a woman to talk to, to share her most intimate thoughts.
But Daron? He was everything she wasn’t—carefree, openly sexual, free.
Even thinking it gave her a twinge, because it seemed like she resented Jack when nothing could be further from the truth. It gave her pangs to think of leaving him with Maris even for an evening. An early evening. She’d literally only be gone a few hours.
Stolen time with Royce... Did he know what she intended?
Joy hoped so, because she intended sex, tonight, while the opportunity presented itself.
If she had to wait any longer, she just might go nuts.
Skipping ahead of her, Jack occasionally stopped to pick up rocks that caught his eye. One streaked with pink, another smooth as a robin’s egg, another coal black.
How had she never noticed his artistic eye?
“Look at this one, Mom!” He held up a dirt-streaked hand with the small rock displayed on his palm.
Joy looked, but to her, it was just a rock, like all the others in the gravel lanes. “Very nice.”
He lifted it toward the sun to study it, and then asked, “How far do you think I can throw it?”
She grinned. Being a little boy took precedence over art, apparently. “We’ll go down on the shore and see. But we have to make it quick.”
When he started to run ahead, she cautioned, “Don’t get your feet wet!”
At a slower pace, Joy followed, enjoying the feel of the sun on her face and the scent of fall in the air. It was a day for new experiences, fresh excitement, and she couldn’t keep the smile off her face.
She’d arrived a few minutes early so she’d have a chance to talk to Maris before Royce got there with Chaos. Maris had her number, and Joy trusted her to call if she needed to, but...for her own peace of mind, she wanted to go over things again.
A dark sedan caught her eye. Sleek, shiny, obviously expensive and parked where it shouldn’t be, blocking in the golf carts used only by employees.
As a single mom living off an RV resort’s employment, pricey transportation had no relevance to her.
But she’d come from money, and she knew money when she saw it.
The new model Bentley would cost more than most people made in an entire year. More than some people’s houses.
Dread throbbed like a live thing inside her, making her mouth dry a
nd her stomach churn.
Daron, who’d been standing in the camp store doorway, spotted her and strode out. He looked grim and that bothered her even more.
She knew. Of course she did. Time away hadn’t made her dumb, but God, it had numbed her to the hurt—a hurt that came washing back with the force of a tsunami.
Jack. She sought him out on the shore, watching him use all his might to throw that rock out into the cold lake. He was her world and she wouldn’t let anyone, anyone, hurt him.
When Daron reached her, she grasped his hands. “Jack. Can you watch him for me? I don’t want him...” To face whatever I’m about to face. To meet the people who don’t love him.
The people who didn’t want him.
Daron nodded. “You got it, hon.” He hesitated. “You know who it is?”
“No.” She inhaled deeply through her nose, drawing in calming purpose. “Not specifically.” But she had a good guess, and she knew whoever it was would only bring heartache.
Daron worriedly searched her gaze. “She says she’s your mother.”
Worst suspicions confirmed.
For a second, Joy had to close her eyes. What could have brought her here now? How had her mother even found her? No, Joy didn’t keep her location a secret, but neither had she been in touch with her family, not in six long years.
Not since they’d disowned her.
What if her father had died? He was ten years older than her mother, but last she knew he’d been in good health.
He’d allowed her mother’s decision, but Joy couldn’t say that he’d actively participated in it. He never really did. All her life, her father had been busy. Busy with work, busy with socializing. Busy managing his fortune.
He was kind to her, and he’d sometimes enjoyed showing her off. She couldn’t recall him ever forgetting a birthday...and yet, they hadn’t been close. After the last big blowup with her mother, she’d seen sympathy in her dad’s eyes.
Well. There’d be no sympathy from her mother, so she may as well quit stalling. Joy worked up a strained smile. “Guess I should see what she wants.”
He didn’t let her go. Instead, he drew her into a tight hug, surprising her with the unfamiliar gesture. It took her a second, and then Joy returned the embrace, drawing strength from his friendship.
