“It's Nick, and she's not in the way. She's a good little worker.” The words came out as if put through a meat grinder. Jess wasn’t the problem, his attraction to her mother was.
Jessica's eyes shone at the compliment. “See Mom, I can help.”
“Well, make sure you listen. I don’t want you getting hurt out here.”
When Sara turned to go back to the house he noticed she hadn’t bothered with shoes before walking outside. He opened his mouth to warn her to watch her step just as she let out a little yelp, bouncing around on one foot. Hearing the commotion, Jake came trotting over from his game of chase the tail and circled them, jumping and barking, loving the new entertainment.
“Mommy, what happened? Are you okay?”
Nick hurried over and wrapped his arm around her slender waist to support her before the silly dog knocked her other foot out from under her. “Why in the he…ck were you out here with no shoes on?” he growled. Boosting her into his arms, he ignored her flinch and headed for the open screen door. “Hold still, before I drop you.” She was squirming around like a fish on a hook.
“Put me down, you big oaf. I can walk.” Then seeing the blood, she completely ruined the tough girl routine by shuddering and turning her head into his shoulder.
He tried to ignore the way she smelled of fresh air and vanilla. And how soft her skin looked, or how silky her hair was where it brushed his chin.
“Mom, mommy, are you okay?”
Jessica's agitated tones as she followed right on Nick's heels made him grimace. He hated the fright he could hear in her quivery voice. “Don’t worry, kid; your mom’s built tough.”
“Oh, gross!” she exclaimed, spotting the bloody foot. “Now I see why you always say to put your shoes on before you go outside. Guess you should have listened to your own advice, huh?”
“All right, miss smarty pants; your Mom probably doesn't need your two cents worth right now. Can you find me a first aid kit, maybe some warm water, and clean towels? You can be my nurse.”
“Cool. You sure you’re okay, Mom?” At Sara's carefully neutral smile, Jessica ran down the hall for the requested items.
“You’re not going to faint on me, are you?” Glancing down, he noticed she’d turned an interesting shade of green. He set her down on the kitchen counter to get a better look at the injury. Lifting her small foot into his hand, he was glad to see a clean cut, not too deep. She’d been lucky.
“Well, the good news is, you'll live. We’ll get you cleaned up and you’ll be good as new. I don’t suppose you’ve had a Tetanus shot recently?” he asked, grabbing ahold of some paper towel and applying pressure to the wound, relieved it was superficial.
“Ouch, you could have given me a warning.” She cried, her eyes flashing liquid fire at him.
“Yeah well, you’re welcome. For future reference, you make a lousy damsel in distress.” Exasperated, he released the foot he’d been holding, letting it thump down lightly against the cupboard. Even irritated with her, another part of him remained all too aware of her. Her long legs dangled over the edge of the old countertop. Mouth-watering breasts stretched her sunny t-shirt right at eye level. The more he saw of her, the more she fascinated him.
Tracing a slow path up her slender throat, he noticed her pulse fluttering just under her skin. Zeroing in on her plump lips, he groaned under his breath as the pink of her tongue flicked out to moisten them. A banquet for him to savor. Just a little.
“Sara—”
“Look, I'm fine, Jessica can…” She sputtered to a nervous halt as he stepped forward and nudged her legs apart with his hips.
His jeans scraped her bare skin, and he caught the awareness in her expressive eyes. At least he wasn’t alone in this. Cradling her hips on the cool countertop, he leaned in, giving her ample time to back away. A few light sips, that’s all he needed. His heart pounded so hard it threatened to leave his chest. The plump softness invited him to taste, to feast. His tongue flicked out teasing her, until with a soft sigh, she opened to him. Ravenous now, he sank deep, indulging in the honey and cinnamon taste of her.
Sweet, so sweet.
He forced himself to stop, and leaning back a little, cupped her jaw. His thumb rasped back and forth over her satiny skin, waiting for her beautiful eyes to slide open. And yes, there it was. The same want and confusion and mistrust plaguing him, filled the amber depths.
“Sara.” Her name a sigh, he moved in just as she backed away, clunking her head against the cupboard door behind her.
“Stop, Nick—I can't do this. I'm sorry, I just can't.” Her gaze avoided him, a shaky hand rubbing the sore spot on the back of her head.
Running slightly unsteady hands of his own through his mussed hair, he stepped back with a wry grimace, shifting to find some relief from the pressure behind his zipper. They had to quit meeting like this, she was going to end up with a concussion. Her arms were crossed over her chest while she contemplated the wall over his shoulder. She refused to look him in the eye, so he attempted some damage control. “Look, I’m sorry. I had no business kissing you like that.”
“No, you didn’t”
“Mom, which towels should I grab?” Jess yelled from down the hall, and he cursed. He’d been so caught up in Sara he’d forgotten the kid was even there.
“They’re under the sink.” She called out to her daughter, still not looking at him. “Maybe this isn't a good idea,” she murmured. “You should go. I'm sure Tess can find someone else to finish the repairs.”
He was about to let her know what he thought of that idea when Jessica came racing back into the kitchen, a towel trailing on the floor behind her.
“Mom, how could you say that? Nick’s doing a great job.”
After a very pregnant pause, which had him almost shuffling his feet like an errant child, she reluctantly agreed. “Yes, he is. Fine, you can stay. Unless you’d rather not?” It was more than obvious she hoped he’d turn her down.
He wanted to. Nearly as much as he wanted to go back to her vulnerable mouth and finish what they’d started. The damn woman drove him crazy.
Gritting his teeth, he turned to the little girl defending him so vehemently and forced a facsimile of a smile. “Thanks, sweetheart. Glad to hear someone appreciates my carpentry skills. I think your mom is feeling better now.” A quick glance caught her dropping down from the counter. Her pert breasts bouncing under the too thin top had his inner caveman growling. He turned his back before he did something foolish. “I'll let you bandage her up while I get back to work, okay?” With that he stomped outside, slamming the screen behind him.
Moving around, cleaning up the jobsite—making sure all the damn nails were off the damn ground, he hauled himself over the coals for kissing her. Shivers of excitement still danced along his spine as he recalled the feel of her cool hands stroking his nape. Her tongue playing tag with his. The sweet, tart taste that was hers alone.
He didn’t want to get mixed up in anyone else’s life. His own head wasn’t screwed on right. He needed to stay the hell away from her.
CHAPTER FOUR
Sara stood at the kitchen window, hands in dishwater, eyelids closed in simple pleasure, her face lifted toward the warmth of the sun’s rays. She’d always loved the promise of spring with all the fresh scents. Shiny new leaves on the trees. Birds singing as they go about the business of nest building and caring for their young. It felt like anything was possible.
Voices coming through the screen had her opening her eyes to see Nick at work restoring the garden from Jake, who had managed to dig up all her tulip bulbs. Darn mutt. Jessica and the dog followed behind him pretty much step for step. It’d been almost a week and she still couldn’t fathom what she’d been thinking of to let him kiss her like that.
It’s not the end of the world, get over it.
He didn’t seem to be suffering from any such anxiety—not showing by the slightest hint, his tongue had been halfway down her throat. It was almost like it hadn�
�t happened, except it had.
Her pulse leapt remembering the hot look in his eyes, and those full lips lowering to hers. Jessica had been right down the hall, but for one, all too brief, exciting moment, she’d forgotten the disillusioned woman staring at her now.
Fiona, the only person Sara trusted with her whereabouts had called just yesterday with an all too grim reminder.
“Hi, babe, how are you and that gorgeous God-daughter of mine making out?” Her effervescent personality bubbling through the airwaves warmed Sara’s heart.
“Fiona. We miss you so much.” She wasn’t sure what she would have done without her friend’s help and encouragement. And now, through her gallery, Sara was able to provide a living for Jessica by selling her paintings under a pseudonym.
“And I miss you. Life’s boring around here without you two.”
There was a slight pause and Sara could feel the tension flowing down the line. “What’s wrong, Fiona? Tell me.”
“It’s nothing, your dickhead husband showed up here a couple of days ago.”
Sara sucked in a sharp lungful of air, her hands clenching the dishcloth. “Tom didn't bother you, did he?”
“The air he breathes bothers me, my dear, but that’s not the reason I called. I just wanted to give you a heads-up, that’s all. Don't worry about me, just take care of yourselves and I'll be happy.”
“He’s not going to give this up, is he? I'm so worried.” Tears clogged her throat, turning her voice husky. “When he catches up to us—”
“That’s not going to happen.” Fiona swore, her voice full of venom. “Sooner or later he’s going to screw up and then we’ll have him. I spoke to a friend of mine in the DEA—don’t worry, she’s solid—anyway, she’s looking into it, Sara. You’re not alone in this. He’s going to jail. And then you guys can come back home.”
After a bit more conversation, they’d hung up, promising to stay in touch. Sara wished she felt half as confident as her friend. She’d read the file she’d taken when they ran and been shocked by the contents. She’d known it contained valuable information, but hadn’t realized how the same man who dealt in million dollar drug deals and weapons exchanges, could be the respected one she’d married.
The sun warmed her chilled skin as her daughter’s contagious laughter floated through the partially open window. Deciding to take a trip down to the Craft Shack for a dose of Annie’s cheerful optimism she phoned over to Tess, who was more than happy to watch Jessica.
Opening the kitchen window a little wider, she called, “Jess, I'm running out to do a couple of errands. You can stay with Aunty Tess, okay?”
“Mom, can’t I stay with Nick? I'll be good,” she yelled, shyly grasping Nick’s large hand, and gazing up at him with a severe case of hero worship.
Nick’s gaze speared Sara’s through the glass, some complicated expression chasing across his face before he dropped down to Jessica’s height. His deep tones easily carried across the small yard. “Actually squirt, I’ve gotta run and pick up a couple of things myself, maybe you should go to Tess’s for now.”
“Aw, Nick, I wanted to stay with you,” Jessica whined.
“Well, maybe if you behave yourself I might bring you back a little something, how’s that sound?”
“Okay, I guess.” Her bottom lip just about dragged in the dust as she moped while gathering up a couple of toys. It soon turned to delighted shrieks however when Nick lifted her into the air and helicoptered her a couple of times before setting her lightly over the fence into Tess’s backyard who’d come to the door to see what the fuss was about. Waving, she ushered Jessica into the house, no doubt for another baking marathon, and round of afternoon soaps.
Nick’s lower abs, exposed in the lift, had stopped Sara’s breath. Then he turned and caught her staring. Blushing hotly, she backed away from the window and grabbed up her purse and keys.
Idiot.
She was acting like a teenager with her first crush for crying out loud. She’d known he had a muscular build—but—Wow.
Embarrassment had her hurrying out the front door, intent on getting to her car before Nick decided maybe they should ride together. She’d just gotten the key in the ignition when he came striding around the corner of the house.
Opening the passenger door, he asked, “Hey, can I catch a lift?” and slid into the seat, slamming the door shut behind him before she could reply.
“Cripes, you call this thing a car? There's more room in a tin can,” he grumbled, jamming the seat back as far as it would go and his head still brushed the roof. With shoulders jammed against the window and his knees bent at an awkward angle, he looked like a pretzel. “How safe is this contraption anyway?”
Sara couldn’t help it, she snickered at his predicament. “Beggars can’t be choosers, and besides…you shouldn't cast stones on poor Mirabelle. You'll hurt her feelings.”
“You named your car? Why am I not surprised?” he grunted, trying without much success to shift to a more comfortable position. “Look, my truck’s in the shop and I figured since you were going anyway?”
Deciding to let him off the hook—the poor man looked like he was in enough pain—she relented. “Okay, you can come, but no more nit-picking remarks about my girl here, she’s sensitive.” Patting the cracked vinyl dash, she peeked at him as he fought to reach his seatbelt, when had her car become so small?
His big body crammed in this close had her nerves springing around like Mexican jumping beans. There were laws about distractions while driving, weren’t there? The thought of him among all the sewing do-dads in Annie’s store was enough to threaten the eruption of a mile-wide smile. “Are you sure you want to come with me? I’m going to be a while. I need to stop at the post office to check on a parcel first, and then I’m meeting my friend over at the Craft Shack, you won’t like it.”
***
A light, summery fragrance filled her little car, teasing him with the scent of her. She wore some kind of summer dress that left way too much skin showing for his peace of mind. He itched to touch her right where it ended, halfway up her mouth-watering thighs. Thin straps showed off creamy shoulders, and the front crossed and tied in a neat little bow on the side—begging him to pull the strings. This wasn’t one of his brighter ideas. He’d started out with the notion of getting to know her a little better, maybe finding out what their story was. But now, sitting beside her in the too small car, his thoughts were definitely not of the ‘let’s be friends’ sort.
“There’s no rush. But on the way home could you drop by the hardware store?” Listen to him, sounding all domesticated.
“You really want to trail behind me all day? What are you, a masochist?”
Yep, I’m starting to think so.
The smile she sent his way showed a hint of teeth, proving he got to her at least half as much as she bothered him. Good.
The geriatric car groaned to life, spitting and gurgling, happier to be spending its days sunning on the warm asphalt drive than lumbering across town. Nick was just relieved when they pulled up in front of the post office without him having to push. An obvious landmark in the little community, its rosy brick facade cast a benevolent shadow over the main street.
He followed Sara out of the rattletrap, startled to hear a voice calling out to her from across the road.
“Good morning Sara, beautiful day isn't it?” A buxom blonde was sweeping the sidewalk in front of a hair salon, aptly named Hair Affair.
Shading her eyes from the morning light, Sara waved and called back, “Hi Jenny, it is a lovely day. I'll have to come see you soon for a trim, before it gets too warm out.”
“Sure thing, anytime, honey. And you’re more than welcome to bring him with you.” She cast admiring eyes up and down Nick’s body, and practically purred. “I’m great with men.”
After another short wave, Sara sent him a look, and brushed by to climb the stairs entering the post office.
Nick gave the woman across the street a smiling s
hrug before turning to stare at Sara’s ass as it twitched back and forth like an angry cats until it was out of sight. He trailed her into the building, not sure why her panties were in a knot. But then, he’d be the first to say he didn’t understand women. He’d always enjoyed them. How they looked, how they smelled, and even how they cried at the drop of a hat, but he’d never understood their way of thinking.
He could have been crossing the street right now to cozy up to that cute little blonde, instead here he was, trailing after Sara like a sad-eyed puppy dog.
Pathetic, Kelley.
Entering the lobby of the old building, he found her standing near a guy wearing a baseball jersey for the Yankee's.
Seriously. Everyone knows the Red Sox rule, dude.
His annoying chuckle irritated Nick all the way across the room. When she smiled at something the chump said, his hackles rose in tempo with his pace. Nearing them, Nick could hear him asking her, “Does that guy know you, Sara? He looks like he’s about ready to rip my head off.”
Good call, buddy.
Forcing a polite smile as he joined them, one hand moved possessively to the small of her back.
She edged sideways, golden eyes still sparking with annoyance as she shifted, trying to dislodge his hand—unsuccessfully. “This is my neighbor, Nick. Don’t worry, he always has the brooding thing going on. Smiling would crack his jaw, I’m sure.”
With a knowing smirk towards where Nick had placed his hand, the guy held his gaze in a contest of wills. “Ty Garrett, if you live in the neighborhood you must know my aunt, Tess. She rents a lot of the houses around there.”
What was he doing? If she wanted to date every single person in this town, it shouldn’t matter to him. He was only here temporarily, long enough to finish his therapy and maybe try to get his shit together. She had friends here, good people who seemed to care for her and her little girl. He had no place in that.
“Yeah, she’s a nice lady; I’m actually staying in one of her houses.” Cursing himself for an idiot, Nick looked down into her rosy face. “Listen, I'm going to walk over to the hardware store. I’ll meet you at the diner in about half an hour, okay?”
Tidal Falls (Wounded Hearts Book 1) Page 3
