by Lori Foster
His laugh this time sounded just right, making her smile with relief.
“He’s a frisky little pup, but not exactly a time-sink, and not at all what I meant.” Royce caught her waist and hauled her in.
Oh, how she liked that, the familiarity of his body, the comfort of their interactions.
Much, much nicer than wading through emotional questions she had no answers to.
“The point,” Royce stressed, “is that I’m adjusting my expectations, and I want to help with your stairs. Do me a solid and say yes.”
That was so ludicrous Joy stared at him. “It’s doing you a favor for me to...let you help?”
He put his forehead to hers. “Yeah, something like that.” Warmth filled eyes as dark as pitch, the brawny hands on her waist gave a slight squeeze and his mouth brushed hers. Close, so very close, he murmured, “Now agree, because Daron and Coop are waiting for me.”
That statement hit her like a dousing of ice water. “Oh my God.” How had she forgotten about them standing outside in the freezing sleet? Pushing Royce back and shooing him with her hands, she said, “Go, go. But please be careful.”
“The same to you. If you decide you and Jack need to leave, text me first, okay?”
Her independent pride bristled. “For what reason?”
“So I can make sure the stairs are clear.”
Umbrage lifted her chin. “You think I can’t do that?”
His mouth curled. “I’m pretty sure you can do anything you set your mind to, but I meant I’d move any tools we’re using.”
“Oh.” And...now she felt foolish. It had been a very long time since she’d checked in with anyone, but she had little resistance left so she nodded. From someone else the request might have felt intrusive, but with Royce it felt caring. “Will you also let me know if you need anything?”
“Sure.” His gaze moved to the hall that led to their small bedrooms. “Will it wake Jack if we start working?”
“A Mack truck driving through here probably wouldn’t wake him.”
Royce grinned. “Perfect.” Hesitating at the door, he looked at her over his shoulder. “Maybe if I finish in time, and Jack is still in school, Coop would keep an eye on Chaos.”
His gaze was so intense, so probing, it thrilled her. “That would be perfect.”
A slow appreciative smile promised heated things. “Then I can guarantee we’ll finish in time.”
* * *
For once, Maris wasn’t working. It felt oddly right, sitting in a booth with her feet propped on the opposite seat, a hot coffee in hand as she waited for Joy to arrive. She used the YouTube app on her phone to listen to more country music, now that Daron had turned her on to it.
She liked it. She couldn’t see herself purchasing music, not when she could put the money to something she deemed more important, but if Daron did as promised and made her a playlist, she wouldn’t need to, anyway.
Why had she never thought about music before? Sometimes in her car she turned on a radio station, but not out of any deep preference. Mostly she needed to break the quiet. Being still had always been a problem for her, but there was no way to bustle around when behind the wheel. That stillness, combined with the silence, always drew her into the past.
It was never a friendly visit.
Now, thanks to Daron, she might actually find a new way to ease her troubled thoughts.
She’d made some crazy assumptions about him, like the idea that he’d gravitate to death-metal music or something equally loud and jarring. It was dumb, because that didn’t really jive with his overall persona of a happy-go-lucky guy.
Pegging him as a carefree, too-young bachelor who spent every additional minute in the sack with a variety of young women who would idolize his fit bod and sexy smile was equally dumb.
Oh, she wasn’t under any illusions. She figured Daron had more than his fair share of sexcapades, but it couldn’t be to the degree she’d assumed, not with all the work he’d put into his house.
And the man had a garden. Before he’d driven her home, he’d shown her the rectangle of yard that, over the summer, had yielded tomatoes, green beans, squash, zucchini and carrots. He’d also shown her the coop he’d recently started building so in the spring he could get some chicks.
A stud who wanted to raise chickens and grow his own produce?
How the hell could she have ever envisioned that? It was like he’d dragged together her version of the perfect guy—short a few years of age—and rolled it all up into the perfect package.
Just for her.
He’d set down roots. He’d focused on his future.
He’d be practically self-sustaining!
When she closed her eyes, Maris could almost see him in his yard, bare feet in the lush, neatly trimmed grass, a bucket of corn in hand as he strolled along, feeding chickens in his usual summer garb of loose board shorts and a raggy tee.
The image made her mouth go dry and accelerated her pulse.
It was a nice visual, calming and peaceful, but it also sent a frisson of heat racing through her.
What would it be like to have that life?
He didn’t propose marriage, she reminded herself.
If you want that life, you have to get it for yourself.
Another good one.
Maris looked out the window at the rippling surface of the lake.
There’d be no more leaving the camp store door open in welcome, not with frost everywhere. This time of year usually made her a little melancholy. She needed the liveliness of the season, the nonstop frenzy, to keep her thoughts focused away from her past, away from the feelings of hunger, of people looking down on her with pity.
This year was a little different. She felt such an incredible bond to Joy that she actually anticipated the quiet so they could visit more. Instead of her thoughts going inward to sadder times, they bloomed out, thinking of Joy’s reaction to different things, wondering what her suggestions might be.
Wondering, too, how she and Royce were getting along. That made her smile. Daron had been right. Joy was falling for Royce fast and hard. She only hoped Royce felt the same.
But then, if he didn’t, Joy would get through it. Her girl was a fighter clear down to her soul. A quiet, unassuming woman with a will of iron.
Damn, but Maris loved Joy’s spirit.
She was busy searching for a new song when the door opened and a gust of wintery air blew in. Thinking it’d be Joy, she smiled as she looked up—and the smile froze when she found Joy’s mother in the doorway instead.
Whoa. The wintery storm had nothing on that lady.
Suddenly being in the shop alone didn’t feel quite so cozy.
Without standing, Maris asked, “Can I help you?”
“Where is my daughter?”
Other than a slightly red nose, the woman seemed impervious to the cold, thanks to her fur-trimmed leather coat with matching gloves.
“Who’s your daughter?”
Maris’s question, deliberately absurd, caused her mother’s mouth to tighten. “Young lady, you know exactly who I mean. Where is she?”
Maris made a point of looking around the store. “Not here.”
“I can see that.”
She hadn’t moved from the doorway, which Maris considered a good thing—except that she kept the door wide open. When the furnace kicked on, Maris mentally tabulated the additional cost to her electric bill.
Lazily, she dropped her feet to the floor and stood, coffee cup in hand as she headed around to the serving side of the counter. Less chance of frostbite with a little space between her and Joy’s mother. “If you want to leave your name and a number, I’ll tell Joy that you dropped in. But it might not be for a while.” Actually, it could be any minute now. “Or not at all today.”
“I demand that you give me h
er address.”
Demand? Maris didn’t mean to exacerbate the situation, but her snort of laughter probably did just that. “Go ahead,” she said, full of challenge. “Demand.”
Footsteps carried in, and then Daron pushed past the woman, his gaze seeking out Maris, and filling with relief when he spotted her. Keeping his gaze resolutely on her, he said, “Ah, there you are.”
Maris couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, here I am.” It amused her how he deliberately ignored the other woman.
Pulling the stocking cap from his head, he lifted his brows in question. “Everything okay?”
Praying Daron would understand, Maris said, “This lady is looking for Joy, but I told her Joy isn’t here and we don’t know when to expect her. Probably not for a while, right?”
“Right,” he said, quickly putting a thermos on the counter. “Fill her up and I’ll be on my way.”
Hoping that meant he’d warn Joy, Maris took thirty seconds to do as asked. Daron screwed the lid back on, nodded at her, said, “Ma’am,” to the mother and stepped back out—thankfully pulling the door closed behind him.
Releasing a breath, Maris smiled. Daron would warn Joy and it’d be up to her if she wanted to see her mother or not.
Maris voted for not.
The driver from the previous visit stuck his head in the door. “Are we staying?” he asked. “I’ll need to park if we—”
“Wait outside,” Mrs. Reed snapped, and pushed the door shut in his face. Eyes narrowed on Maris, she said, “You may give my daughter a message.”
“Okay, sure.” Maris refilled her own coffee, and no way in hell would she offer any to the old bat. “Shoot.”
“Tell Joy that...” As if lost for the right words, she hesitated, and for only a single moment she looked almost human.
Then her narrow chin shot up. “Tell her we need to talk before she visits the attorney. It’s important.”
“I’ll pass it along. When I see her, I mean.”
“See that you do.”
Because...she was an errand boy? Pretending nonchalance, Maris blew on her coffee to cool it.
There was another moment of indecisiveness, and the woman said a brisk, “Thank you.”
Huh. Maris summoned a smile. “You’re welcome.”
Nodding, the woman turned to leave.
Wow. The second the door closed, Maris set down the coffee and slumped on the counter. Good God, how had Joy survived being raised by that churlish, rude witch? Here she’d thought her own mother was bad with her constant rocking and praying. At least she’d prayed for Maris; she’d hugged her often and always told her she loved her.
No, her mama hadn’t shown that love in conventional ways, but she’d never made Maris feel unloved.
Pulling out her phone, Maris texted Joy. Your mother just swept out of here. Stay low for a bit.
An immediate reply showed. I’m so sorry!
It seemed clear to Maris that while her parents’ lack of initiative had made her überdriven, the cold demeanor of Joy’s parents made her sympathetic.
And apologetic.
Don’t be, Maris texted. Not with me. Want to gab soon? I have coffee to share & updates to give.
Be there in ten!
Ten minutes. Crazy how much she valued that time with Joy. She’d grown up without anyone to really talk to, to confide in. Like music, she hadn’t known what she was missing.
But now she did, and she’d never take it for granted.
Not when she was dying to unload on everything that had happened last night with Daron. Being this confused wasn’t a usual occurrence for Maris. Throughout her life she’d set goals, and then worked her ass off for them. The situation with Daron was a challenge she couldn’t figure out, because she couldn’t decide if she wanted it—wanted him—or not. It would be such an enormous change, and yet—
The door opened again and he strode in, his expression uneasy. “Hey, you okay?”
Now why the hell wouldn’t she be? Maris was coming up with a snarky reply, just to be contrary, but he hadn’t stopped walking and it struck her that he was coming right around the counter and that he apparently planned to—
Lips on lips, firm, two seconds... His warm breath caressed her cheek. Three, four, five...
He straightened and his hand went to her face. “I hated leaving you alone like that, but I figured you wanted me to warn Joy.”
Maris didn’t mean to, but she licked her tingling lips. “I...”
Daron took her mouth again, deeper this time, more thoroughly. As he gradually eased back, he groaned, then murmured, “Sorry. You were saying?”
Who the hell knew? Maris sure didn’t.
“You’re okay?”
Right. He’d come in like a hero to save her. Unacceptable.
After clearing her throat and standing a little straighter, Maris said, “I’m fine. Sharp words have never done me any damage.”
“They can hurt all the same.” He wrapped his hand lightly around her ponytail and slow-stroked it to the end. “I found Joy in the maintenance shed with Royce. She was worried about you, all hell-bent on charging down here to take the heat off you.” He leaned down, and this time his mouth trailed over her neck. The damp heat of his lips, the touch of his tongue on sensitive skin, made her belly flip-flop in a delicious way. “I told Joy you had it under control.”
See, now that, his confidence in her, mattered more than his macho need to protect.
“It took some convincing, because Joy feels responsible for her mother’s behavior. When Royce told her he’d come along with her, she gave in and stayed put. Guess she didn’t want Royce dealing with the woman, either.”
“Cheers to Royce.”
“Yeah. I came as soon as I saw the car. I swear when I stepped in, the store was ten degrees colder than outside. That lady is like an arctic wind, freezing everything around her.”
No kidding. Maris still chilled. “If Joy had come straight here, instead of flirting with Royce, she’d have walked into that unpleasant surprise.” Maris patted his shoulder and tried not to think about the rock-solid body beneath his coat and sweatshirt. “Thanks for heading her off.”
“Not a problem.” He grinned. “Still surprises me to see Joy with someone. She’s always been...”
“Distant, I know. Having met her mother, I can understand why.”
“Royce told me all about her. Sounds like a nightmare.”
“That covers it.” Maris tried to be casual, but having a man touch her, kiss her, didn’t fall into the norm for her daily routine. “I should get back to work.” Not that she actually had any work to do. Thanks to the morning ice storm, there’d been a rush on the coffee when the sun first rose, but now the few remaining campers had departed. Many promised to be back for Halloween, weather permitting.
“Yeah, me, too. With the sun out, the ice will start to melt and things can get back to normal. Weather in Ohio, right? Mild one day, winter storm the next, and right back to a typical fall.”
Damn it, he could be so engaging with his casual small talk and friendly smiles. Moments like this only made her want him more.
“I’m making chili for lunch,” she blurted, before the intent fully processed in her brain. Do I have the ingredients for chili? Hope so. “If you’re hungry later—”
“Count me in.” He gave her a boyish grin, then scooped her in for a hot, passionate, openmouthed kiss that made every female part of her stand up and beg for more.
When he released her, he said, “I better go before I remember that we’re past rule number four now. Does chili count as a date? No, don’t answer that. Let me dream a little.” He kissed the tip of her nose and strode away, all sexy swagger and teasing charm.
Maris was still standing there, dazed and too warm, when Joy arrived. As she rushed in, stripping off her coat an
d hat, she said, “I’m so damn sorry about my mother. I owe you for helping me dodge her. Now tell me all about your date.”
That effervescent enthusiasm was just what Maris needed right now, and she laughed. “Your mother wants you to call her. She’s insistent that you two need to talk before you see the attorney. I say screw that, but I felt compelled to pass it along.”
Nodding, Joy came behind the counter and helped herself to coffee. “Message received. Your duty is done. Now, do we need to work as we talk? Or do you have a few minutes?”
“Actually, I have all kinds of time. Let’s sit.”
The surprise that widened Joy’s eyes and parted her lips had Maris laughing again.
Damn it, she felt pretty good today...and she knew it was because of Daron.
How scary was that?
* * *
Ten minutes later, Joy sat back in disbelief. Based on Maris’s cheerfulness, she thought for sure she misunderstood. “So, you’re saying you didn’t sleep with him?”
“No thanks to me. I practically jumped the poor guy’s body.”
Joy would never have described Daron as a “poor guy,” but...had Daron turned Maris down? That didn’t make any sense, either. “What happened?”
“I made a giant assumption that he’d be all on board with some extracurricular activity. Not so.”
“Baloney. If Daron held out, he must have had a reason. I just don’t...” Joy couldn’t imagine what that reason might be. “He’s chased you forever, it seems.”
Maris pinched her mouth to the side, then sighed. “Okay, here’s the worst part.”
Oh no, there was a worst part? Worse than being turned down? Sympathy drew Joy closer. “Go on.”
“Before I agreed to go to his house for dinner, I laid out these stupid rules—and one of them was no sex on the first date.”
Oh my. When the whole point had seemed to be extracurricular activity, Joy couldn’t imagine why Maris had done that...well, except that Maris had some skewed perceptions of Daron. Maybe she’d been trying to protect herself?
If so, Joy completely got it. More and more, she felt the same way. “You said one of them? There were other rules?”
