“Just sit tight. I’m not about to take you home and have you keel over again. I think one traumatic event in one week is sufficient.” She sat beside him. “So, other than being your grouchy self, how do you feel?”
“Sore.”
“You know what this means…”
He cast her a suspicious look. “What?”
“You’re going to stick to the meal plans Natalie has taken the time to create for your stubborn ass.” He started to grumble but Tasha wasn’t hearing it. “Listen, Dad. You’re all we’ve got. Mom didn’t have a choice in how she went out, but you’ve being given a second chance at life. You can beat this with good eating habits and regular exercise.” She waited a beat, then said in earnest, “We need you, Dad.”
“Need you…” Gerald repeated softly. His expression faltered and his eyes clouded in a way that immediately had her reaching for the call button, but he stayed her hand. When she looked at him again, his eyes had cleared and resolution shone back at her. She frowned. “Dad? Are you okay?”
For the first time in a long time, Tasha caught a glimpse of the man she’d grown up thinking of as her hero. She sucked in a sharp breath. “Daddy? What’s gotten into you? Are you sure you’re all right?”
Tears sparkled in his eyes and he grasped her hand. “Not quite. But I will be. Someone made me promise and I aim to keep it.”
A FEW DAYS LATER GERALD WAS released with strict dietary and medical instructions that made Tasha’s head spin and Nora’s eyes glaze, but Natalie didn’t so much as blink as she jotted down the instructions. Tasha felt a momentary flash of guilt as she figured she should be the one to shoulder the bulk of the responsibility, but honestly, Natalie seemed like such a pro, Tasha wasn’t about to step in unless asked.
And, Natalie didn’t. In fact, she told Tasha to get out and relax for the day. She didn’t say “why don’t you call up, Josh,” but somehow the suggestion lingered between them.
At first, she thought to head to the library to e-mail her director, but Tasha knew if she started composing the e-mail she’d sense what was coming and break down and cry.
She wasn’t ready to leave—and that scared the holy living shit out of her.
And, it wasn’t just because of her father’s health, she knew. It was Josh.
Damn it. How’d this happen? Very quickly, she noted wryly even as she locked her hotel door and headed for her car.
But being cognizant of your actions doesn’t always mean you have the willpower to stop them, and that’s exactly where Tasha was in her mind. She wanted to see Josh. Plain and simple. There, it was out there. Now what?
She craved his presence, if only offered in friendship. He knew her awful secret, there was nothing else she had to hide. And she knew what she needed. Tasha wasted no time in heading straight for Josh’s house. Hopefully, he liked surprises.
JOSH WISHED DEAN HAD LINED up some work for him. He was going stir-crazy at home. He’d run out of projects on the small house, which didn’t require a major overhaul—it was a rental, after all—and he was never much of a television watcher. Nor was he a reader. So that left doing a lot of thinking.
Of course, his thoughts were decidedly one-track. All of Tasha in varying degrees of appropriateness. Her smile, her skin, the smell of her hair, the way her expressive eyes held a wealth of sadness…everything about her wound his insides tight. He wanted to beat the shit out of whoever had hurt her when she was a young woman and he wanted to hold her close when she cried. Knock it off, already! Springing from the sofa as if it were on fire, he headed for the garage until a soft knock stopped him.
He crossed to the door and opened it, expecting to see Jehovah’s Witnesses or Mormons hoping to convert him, when he saw Tasha looking like a manifestation of his thoughts.
“My sisters practically threw me out, saying I needed to take a day and relax and…well, you’re the first person I thought of that I’d like to spend the day with. Is that okay?”
His heart thundered in his chest and he smiled through the breathlessness he felt, not about to turn her away no matter how much better for the both of them it would be. “Come in.”
His small house wasn’t dirty, but it definitely looked lived-in by two resident males. Crossing to the sofa, he pulled one of Christopher’s dirty socks from the top and tossed it toward his son’s room.
“Don’t clean up on my account,” she said with a self-deprecating laugh. “At least you have carpet, not a dirt floor.”
She had a point, he thought. Remembering his manners, he headed toward the kitchen. “Can I get you something? I have some fresh-brewed coffee.”
“I’d love a cup.”
Tasha took a seat on the sofa and Josh disappeared into the kitchen. When he returned with two cups, Tasha was looking at a picture of Christopher.
“He was about eight there,” Josh offered, handing her the mug. “It’s my favorite. And about the only picture Carrie let me have when we split.”
“He looks so much like you in this picture,” she said, accepting the mug, looking up at him with heartbreaking sincerity. “Seeing you as a father makes me wish things had been different between us,” she admitted, dropping her gaze to the coffee cup. “That things had ended differently.”
He let his gaze caress her face and believed in his heart if fate hadn’t been so cruel, she would’ve been a wonderful mother. He swallowed with difficulty, unable to put into words what he felt in his heart but needed to squelch. She looked up in time to catch the struggle.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “You’ve got a funny look on your face.”
“Tasha…” He choked down his words, hating the questions in his head and knowing she didn’t want to answer them. He didn’t blame her, but it didn’t stop his need to know. Josh shook his head and cleared his mind. “Want to go for a ride?”
TASHA BLINKED IN SURPRISE at his sudden offer. “Where?”
“Don’t care. Coulterville, Greeley Hill…Oakhurst, Fish Camp…I don’t care. Let’s just get out of the house.”
“It’s supposed to rain later today,” she said with a flare of uncertainty, though excitement had ignited in her stomach. An impromptu road trip fit perfectly within her current reckless frame of mind. Suddenly, a picture materialized in her head and she bit her lip against the urge to identify it. A wildness she hadn’t felt in ages took hold and she sent Josh a slow smile. “How about your parents’ place in Wawona?”
Josh stared, a myriad of emotions floating across his features, until he matched her smile. “Wawona it is. I hope you packed something warm, because if it’s raining here it’ll snow there.”
Tasha laughed. “Let’s hit the road. I want to get there before noon.”
THE RIDE TO WAWONA, MUCH like the ride to Yosemite, was achingly beautiful despite the cold, and little patches of snow provided crystalline flashes of brilliant color when the sun hit it just right. The dense forest flanking the road on both sides made Tasha feel at home, having made this trip more times than she could count in her childhood.
Rain clouds hovered, but the sun fought a gallant battle to keep them at bay for a few more hours and Tasha was grateful for the brief window of sunshine.
Within an hour they pulled into the driveway, Josh’s wide truck tires crunching on the frozen ground, alerting the wildlife to their presence. Tasha jumped out of the truck and inhaled the fresh smell of the forest that surrounded them.
The house, an odd, sprawling one-story, was built in the early 1900s and had been passed down through the Halvorsen generations. It was nearly impossible to find property in Wawona anymore, which made the place even more valuable.
It wasn’t beautiful; in fact, the house was in need of repair, but each brother spent weeks every summer working on one project after another. Josh explained during the ride that he and Dean had renovated the bathroom, which had been a nightmare with the antiquated plumbing.
Tasha spun in a slow circle. There were no manicured lawns, no evidence of ma
n’s heavy touch, just a rickety fence that failed to keep out the deer and a few seasonal neighbors who shared the same love of the area.
“It’s not the Hilton—” Josh started to say, but Tasha turned with a warm smile.
“It’s better,” she finished for him, her breath visible before her as her cheeks started to sting from the cold. “There’s no place better than here.”
“Let’s get inside before we freeze,” he said, chuckling, leading her to the door, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back. Tasha felt the warmth of his hand despite the layers of clothing she wore and she was tempted to lean into him. Josh removed the temptation when he maneuvered around her to unlock the door. “After you,” he said, eliciting a laugh from Tasha. “I’m going to get some firewood out of the wood cellar. Make yourself comfortable.”
Tasha wandered into the living room, delighting in the antique furniture and aged smell of the house. A long table was situated in the formal dining room and three old-fashioned, single-hung wooden windows faced the backyard. Memories of card games, Monopoly tournaments and even a naughty game or two of strip poker when she and Josh came up alone, filled her mind. A subtle heat crawled into her cheeks and she touched them just to be sure she wasn’t heating up the room. Still, there were many good memories in this old house and her heart was light.
Josh returned with an armful of seasoned wood and set to building a fire. Tasha watched with unabashed interest. There was something intensely masculine about a man doing something that at one time in their ancestry was essential to survival. Primal. She swallowed with difficulty. Somewhere in the back of her mind a voice weakly told her to stop where she was going, but she’d lost the willpower to listen. Josh turned, but when he read the heady desire in her eyes, his own darkened and he seemed to be fighting the same fight.
“Josh…” she said softly. What was there to say? She craved him in a way that was nonsensical and reckless, but it had slowly become a hunger inside her that only he could satisfy. He rose slowly and her heartbeat quickened. In a dark, reserved place in her mind, she’d known there was only one reason she’d suggested this place and Josh had known, as well. She sensed his reluctance, but his body responded to hers, and within moments he was standing close enough to touch. And that’s what she did. As if touching him for the first time, she caressed the side of his cheek and his eyelids shut briefly, almost painfully. She meant to etch this moment in her memory, for she knew it was a one-time deal. Staring into his eyes, she said, “Give me something I can cherish, Josh.”
FOR ONCE, THE CHATTER IN Josh’s head stilled and all that existed was the feel of Tasha in his arms. It felt so natural, so right. He pulled her against him, her body fitting into the grooves of his own as if they were made for each other. “Tasha…”
She quieted him with a soft, gentle, exploratory kiss that made his knees buckle with its sweetness, and whatever he’d been trying to say drowned in the swirl of desire that matched hers. Tasha led him to the first bedroom, to the bed where she lost her virginity to this same man, and knew by the flare in his eyes, he was remembering that night, as well.
The room was cold, the heat from the fire had only just started to warm the house, but Tasha tore her sweater from her body and encouraged Josh to do the same as she devoured him with her eyes. His body was different than she remembered, harder and more mature, but the changes excited her in a way she’d never allowed herself to experience. After Bronson, anything sexual had shamed her. But not with Josh. She felt safe enough to allow desire to run free in her body and she was excited by its power.
Josh came behind her and slid the straps of her bra down her shoulders, baring the soft skin to his lips. He cupped her full breasts and her head fell back, exposing the column of her neck. Chills tingled through her as he lightly nipped at the sensitive skin, traveling to the delicate shell of her ear. Turning her gently, Josh eased her against multiple lacy pillows. The antique brass bed groaned and creaked as it took their weight. Josh crawled toward her with a feral expression shining from his beautiful eyes, which stopped her heart in a painfully exciting way. This man was going to brand her with his lovemaking, she realized. He was going to sear away every foul memory. Tasha shuddered and offered her body and soul like never before.
JOSH’S MIND CEASED working. All that mattered was Tasha. Her smooth skin felt like hot satin against his body, and it was all he could do not to plunge into her like the young kid he used to be. Hands shaking, he touched her body reverently, the craving inside him almost too much to bear. Her eyelids fluttered shut and a moan escaped as he slipped a finger deep inside her. Dipping down, he claimed her nipple even as he worked his finger, slowly and gently, teasing the tight nub inside her hot folds until she writhed beneath him.
“Josh,” she cried, clutching at his shoulders. “Please…”
Her gasped plea only encouraged him to take her closer to the brink without allowing that final completion. But as he positioned his body, she stiffened. His gaze flew to hers and he read the fear, even though she tried to hide it. Cupping her face gently, he kissed her long and deep, reminding her that it was him and he was not taking but giving. She inhaled sharply as if swallowing a sob and relaxed. Her arms tightened around him and he slowly entered her body, each stroke deliberate and unhurried, communicating with his actions he truly did cherish her and the gift she was offering.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CURLED NAKED AGAINST JOSH, Tasha felt her heart hammer in her chest with the same wild beat as his, and she smiled, stretching and turning so that she was on her back and able to look at him.
His eyes opened and for a long moment just held her gaze. They’d poured their feelings into their bodies, allowing touch to communicate what they couldn’t say out loud, and Tasha didn’t expect words. Josh grazed her lips and slid his free hand across her belly, pulling her close.
“Tasha, what does this mean?”
His question made her sad. To answer nothing would cheapen what she’d considered profound, but to hope or pretend that there could be more between them was unfair to them both. “You know it’s not that simple,” she said.
He nodded grimly. “I know.”
“Wrong time for us again, I guess,” she said.
“It doesn’t have to be.”
She sighed, wishing he’d let it go. But she could tell by the determined set of his jaw, she’d have to explain why. “I’m not the person people remember. When you grow up in a small town everyone expects you to stay the same, like some cookie cut-out, always smiling and waving from the sidelines. I’m not that cheerleader anymore.”
“I think you’re wrong. No one expects people to remain the same. Emmett’s Mill is not Pleasantville.”
Tasha gave Josh a derisive look. “Isn’t it? Every person I’ve run into has brought up how I’d once been the prom queen and how I haven’t changed a bit. They’re wrong. I’ve changed so much I’m damn near unrecognizable, and frankly, I’m not interested in telling them why.”
Understanding crossed his features, but she didn’t want his understanding or sympathy. She wanted to be left alone. Pulling from his arms, she slid from the bed and began dressing. “Josh, I’ve spent years wondering how I could possibly manage to move back to Emmett’s Mill, but each time I consider the possibility I think of the chance that I might run into his wife. She’s a living reminder of what happened and she believed him. Not that I blame her entirely. Why would she believe something so hideous of her husband? A man respected in the community and his church? No. Invariably, I come back around to the same conclusion. Emmett’s Mill is not my home any longer.”
Josh followed, grabbing his jeans from the floor just as she donned her sweater. “Running isn’t the answer,” he said.
His tone wasn’t self-righteous but Tasha couldn’t help but bristle. He had no idea what it was like to live in her skin. “It worked for you,” she said quietly, referencing their ugly breakup so many years ago.
Josh sti
lled. The moment was all but ruined between them. Regretful for her harsh words, she reached out to him, but there was no warmth in his eyes to encourage her touch. She dropped her arm. “We can’t have forever. It’s not meant to be. Let’s be content with the moment. Okay?”
“Impossible,” he muttered, shoving his hand through his hair as he stalked from the room.
Straightening the bed covers, she gathered the rest of her things and reluctantly followed. She found Josh staring out the window toward the backyard, watching as the sky darkened with the threat of snow.
“We should get back before that storm hits,” she said, thinking of Christopher. “Those clouds look like they mean business.”
He nodded but he didn’t move.
“Josh—”
“Tell me his name.”
Tasha startled. “Excuse me?”
He turned to her. “I want to know his name.”
Tasha started to protest, to explain again how knowing a dead man’s identity wasn’t going to change anything, but somehow she found her lips moving in a different way than she’d desired and honesty flowed from her mouth. “Bronson Lewis.”
Josh’s eyes widened as if he didn’t believe it, and she flinched inside, waiting for the evidence of his disbelief.
“Son of a bitch,” he whispered. “I knew that bastard wasn’t right in the head.”
Tasha’s knees weakened for a moment as she moved toward him. “What do you mean?” she asked in a stricken voice. Had Josh seen something that tipped him off, some sign that she’d obviously missed?
“Nothing I can put my finger on, but there was something creepy about the way he…leered at girls half his age.” When Tasha couldn’t do anything but stare, he shook his head as if at himself for not saying anything sooner. “My dad never thought much of him, either. He said he never knew what Diane saw in the bastard. And, I think my dad’s one of the best judges of characters there is, so if he didn’t like him, the guy already started with one point against him. When I caught him chatting up Leanne Stillman one day after practice, it made me sick. There was no mistaking what he was after that day.”
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