by Jill Shalvis
The way she looked at him, as if she expected him to push her away, pulled at him hard. She was struggling to find the path that was right for her, and he had no right, nor a desire, to stand in her way and direct her. She had a smudge of trail dirt on her jaw, a slight sunburn on her nose, and a wary light in her eyes while she waited for him to respond.
“I promised you one minute at a time,” he said, and traced a finger over her jaw. “I’m trying here, Red.”
She let out a tenuous smile, and as they stared at each other, time seemed to stop. It wasn’t the first time that had happened, and a small part of him hesitated because he knew he was headed for a world of hurt.
“So.” She glanced at all his paperwork scattered in front of them. “Getting anywhere?”
“No.”
“Well, in that case.” She scooted closer and kissed his chin. “Maybe we can get back to that one minute at a time thing.”
Resisting was pointless when he wanted her bad enough to take what he could get. He shoved all the paperwork away and pulled her into his lap.
Summer moved eagerly into Joe’s arms, thinking he was just what she needed. He ran a finger down her throat, over her collarbone as she settled in his lap, and at the feel of him hard and muscled beneath her, she all but purred. “Is that a gun in your pocket, Fire Marshal Walker, or are you just happy to see me?”
“Guess,” he said, and grabbing the hands she’d tried to dip into his Levi’s, he pushed her to the floor, following her down, holding her wrists captive on either side of her head. “Now about that minute…”
“Yes?” she asked breathlessly, looking up into his face.
“I’m taking one right now. You’re going to let me.”
Her pulse leapt and she wrapped her legs around his hips, arching up, rubbing the hottest, neediest part of her to what she figured was the hottest, neediest part of him, dragging a groan from his throat. He released her hands to shove up her tank and unzip her sports bra.
She opened her mouth to tell him she hadn’t showered, but all that came out was a garbled whimper because he took a breast in his mouth, sucking her nipple in deep, running his tongue over the tip as it hardened for him.
“Joe. I need to take a shower—Ohmigod,” she gasped when he clamped his teeth down lightly and tugged.
“My minute isn’t over.” He surged up, slapped the lock on his office door, then tugged down her shorts and groaned. “You are wearing black panties.”
“I told you—” She broke off when he put a big hand on the inside of her thigh and pushed her legs open.
“A minute wasn’t enough. I’m taking another.” He hooked the crotch of her panties with his thumb and slid it aside. “You’re so wet. I have to—” He sank a finger in deep, and with a cry she couldn’t contain, she arched up for more. But even with the locked door, they couldn’t. Shouldn’t…“Joe.” She had to lick her dry lips, her body quivering with his every touch. “We can’t—”
He circled her nipple with his tongue again, and sank a second finger inside her. “Can’t what?” he murmured in a low, thick voice as he brushed his thumb over her center.
“Can’t…uh…” She couldn’t remember.
Another glide of his thumb with the barest of pressures now, and she fisted her hands in his shirt with a helpless moan. “Joe.”
“Look at you,” he murmured as he drove her right to the edge and held her there with the steady pressure and rhythm she needed. Her head fell back while she panted for air. She was close, so terrifyingly close—
“Come for me,” he whispered, his mouth brushing her jaw, beneath her ear. “I want you to.”
She could no more have stopped a train on its tracks as she burst, exploding in a kaleidoscope of lights and sensations, eventually coming back to herself as Joe slowly stroked her down to earth. He brushed his lips over her damp temple. “Good?”
“Great. More,” she demanded.
“Greedy woman.”
“I have a condom in my purse.”
“Resourceful too.” He blew out a relieved breath. “I like that.” He reached up for her purse just as his radio chirped on his desk. “Damn it.”
“Don’t listen.” She arched her hips. “Inside me. Now.”
He opened her purse but his radio chirped again, and he sagged against her, pressing his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but I have to get that.” His body was hard, quivering with it, but on his face was a resigned tension. And she didn’t believe that tension was all for himself, but for her, too, and right then and there, something deep within her shifted. Softened. “Hey.” She cupped his face, and smiled past the hunger flooding her. “It’s okay, I can wait.”
At that, something seemed to shift within him too, certainly a release of the tension that had gripped him at the sound of his radio, but something more. Something warm and deep, and maybe not all physical. He nuzzled close, gave her a quick, hard kiss on the lips and then pulled back with serious reluctance before answering the radio.
It was dispatch. There’d been a police call at Creative Interiors I, an intruder, though there was no one at the premises now. Given the arson issues, they’d contacted Joe as a courtesy.
With her stomach clenching, Summer adjusted her clothing and sat up. “I’m coming with you.”
“Red—”
“Look, this is a nightmare, I know. But it’s my nightmare.” They left his office with Ashes coming along, and walked in silence to their cars. Summer followed Joe to Creative Interiors, trying not to think too hard. She’d always been able to clear her mind, through good music or breathing techniques, or her soothing crystals and teas, but it wasn’t as easy with so many thoughts swirling in her head she felt as if they were coming out her ears.
In front of Creative Interiors, there was a police car. Joe talked to the cop for a moment, then came over to her. “The alarm went off. A witness said she saw a twenty-something-year-old guy in black from head to toe let himself in with keys, and then back out a moment later.”
She blinked. “Braden?”
“They’re looking for him now. They’ve called your mom and Tina.”
This made even less sense now than it had yesterday. She went into the store to see if she could tell what might possibly be missing. Joe came in behind her. She flipped off the alarm and headed toward the back. The counter looked cleared off as usual. The cash register would be empty so she didn’t bother to check there.
In the back she turned on the lights, surveyed the crowded storage area and sighed. Everything had been chaotic and unorganized since the warehouse fire, and after the other store’s fire, things had only gotten worse. There were stacks of inventory haphazardly placed on shelves, on the floor, in and around the table and chairs used for employee breaks. On a shelving unit sat three of Bill’s lighthouses, held up on either side with two of her father’s travel books.
She ran a finger over a spine. “I was with him when he did his research for this one. We took a canoe down the Amazon. I’ll never forget it.”
“You shouldn’t.” He turned her to face him. “Maybe there’s more you should never forget.”
“I’m beginning to get that,” she said softly, knowing how right he was. “It’s just that I wanted to live in the here and now, you know?” She let out a sad smile. “Just wanted to hang out, see everyone, be happy, and then go on my merry way.”
“Without looking back?”
“That was my plan. But…” She set her hand on his chest, slowly fisting it over his heart, staring at her fingers as she gripped him tight, binding him to her. “I don’t seem to be able to manage it the way I thought I could.”
He covered her hand with his. “Because it’s all entwined. The past. The now. The future.”
“I just want the now,” she whispered.
He slowly shook his head. “That’s not the way this works, Red. At least not for me.”
Her heart sped up as she struggled to make sure he understood. �
��I’ve never really been a future sort of woman, you know that. And I sure as hell know you’re not a past kind of guy. There’s nothing there for you, you’ve said so yourself. When you look at it like that, all we have is now.”
“You are my past. My entire past.”
She set her forehead to his chest and took a moment to soak him in. Everything about him steadied her—his solid heartbeat, the scent of him, the way his hands felt on her, his voice, everything. “I’m so screwed up,” she murmured. “I thought being here would help, but now I’m just feeling more confused.”
He stroked a soothing hand up her spine, sinking his fingers into her hair. “That’s because when your father died, when Camille closed herself off, all you saw was the pain from the loss. You’re afraid you’ll end up the same way if you ever love someone too much, so you close yourself off too,” he said, brushing his lips against her temple. “Am I close?”
She was still staring at his chest, wondering how it was he saw so much, and understood her, maybe more than she did herself. “Let’s just say you’re warm.”
“I’m more than warm, Red. I’m dead-on. Now you live your life in the present without looking back. It’s easier to do that, easier to keep your heart intact and safe, but guess what? Shit happens and you had to come back here where the past and the present have collided like a plane crash, and there’s no safety net.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“Look, you’ve lived good and well, but not deep. Maybe it’s time to change things.”
A moment ago he’d been forceful and sexy as hell with it. Now he was being so sweet and tender, and somehow it was even sexier. But that he saw her so clearly, so absolutely, stunningly clearly, terrified her.
How could he know her so well?
“I loved the girl you were,” he said, and stroked a tear off her cheek that she hadn’t even been aware she’d shed. “And I’m growing to love the woman you’ve become. Past and present, hopelessly entwined. So the future should be given a shot too.”
“Joe.” She squeezed her eyes shut.
“Look at me.” He tipped up her chin. “You say that the past doesn’t matter, but you stand there looking at that book of your father’s and you ache. You say that what we had in the past doesn’t matter, but you keep going back to it so that’s yet another lie.”
Into the silence her cell phone vibrated like an insect. She pulled it out of her pocket.
Joe moved away from her into the front room of the store and out of her view while she looked at the display. The phone vibrated again, shook and shimmied in her hand as she stared at it. By the time she followed Joe a minute later, he was talking to the police officer. She walked up to them and showed Joe the text message.
They won’t stop looking for me until you’re gone. Get gone.
He eyes slid over the digital readout, then up to hers. He had his fire marshal face on, inscrutable. Only the corners of his mouth, turned slightly down, gave him away.
“I guess we’re still bothering somebody,” she said in a surprisingly normal voice. “Or should I say me. I’m still bothering somebody. That’s not really saying much though, since I’ve been bothering pretty much everybody I’ve come across since being home.”
“Red—”
“Here.” She thrust the phone at him. “Just…do what you do and figure it all out.”
He grabbed her hand and squeezed until she looked at him again. “I will,” he promised.
And though just about everything was going wrong, including them, she nodded because she believed him. She believed in him.
Chapter 21
Summer woke up alone in Joe’s bed. She hadn’t closed the curtains the night before and the early morning sun slanted in the high, narrow windows, warming her, making her squint as she looked around.
She was hugging Joe’s pillow, lost in his warm comforter, and though the room faintly smelled like him, she was alone. As she had been all night.
Joe had sent her to his boat while he worked. Empathy and something else hit her, something that felt suspiciously close to neediness, and she tossed the covers aside. His bathroom was the size of a postage stamp, the shower even smaller. She pictured him in here, that tall, long body bumping into the walls as he soaped up. She used his shampoo, and then sighed dreamily over the scent of him lingering on her as she dressed and moved into the galley.
Her cell phone sat on his small wooden table, being used as a paperweight to hold down a note scribbled in Joe’s handwriting.
Red,
Let me know where you’ll be today.
Joe
Sparse, not a single extra word to it. Why hadn’t he come to bed? Feeling out of sorts and frustrated with herself, she headed to the original Creative Interiors. The store wasn’t open yet but Camille and Tina were there, sitting at the back table. They had a fresh pitcher of iced tea and a stack of catalogs, which they were poring over together.
“Hello darling,” Tina said with a smile. “We’re contemplating some of our fall stock.”
“What’s missing from last night? Anything?” Summer asked, her stomach tightening with nerves.
“Not a thing,” Tina said.
Camille stood up and grabbed another glass, which she filled with iced tea. “Chamomile,” she said, and handed it to Summer.
For its calming effect. “Thanks.”
Camille stroked a finger over her cheek, then turned away and sat back down.
Tina patted a chair. “Sit, darling Summer. It wasn’t what the police thought. Braden had a key.”
“He’d left his wallet,” Camille said. “And forgot about the alarm.”
“They took him in for questioning this morning, but let him go,” Tina said. “Chloe’s hot under the collar about it, says he’s done nothing wrong.”
“And what do you think?” Summer asked.
“I want to think the same. I do think the same. But Braden’s pride is hurt and he’s quit.”
“How did Chloe take that?”
“Not well, as you can imagine. It’s all such a mess. Gregg thinks he’s being investigated for the fires, and Stella’s going crazy. The twins…I found cigarettes in the outside trash this morning.” Tina sighed and looked at Camille. “Our group is losing it, but I just keep reminding myself we’ve never once made a wrong decision on any of the people in our lives, right?”
Camille looked at Tina for a long moment. “I’d like to think not,” she said very softly, and began adding sugar to her tea.
Summer leaned in and hugged her mom. “You doing okay?”
“Always.” But she let go of her teaspoon and hugged Summer back, hard. “Always.” Then she pulled free and stroked Summer’s hair from her forehead. “And because I am, it’s time.”
“Time?” Summer glanced at Tina, but her aunt lifted a shoulder. “Time for what?”
“For you to go back to your life.”
“Mom.” She pushed her tea away. “We’ve discussed this. I’m staying until it’s all over.” She thought of the text messages and knew she should tell them before they heard it from Joe. “And there’s something else you both should know.”
“Uh oh,” Tina said.
Summer kept her hand on her mother’s so she couldn’t reach for the sugar. “I’ve received two text messages, anonymously, suggesting I need to leave.”
Camille jerked, and spilled her tea. “Oh! I’m sorry.” She jumped up and grabbed a towel.
Tina didn’t move, just sat there in shock.
“I’ve told Joe about them,” Summer said. “He and Kenny are on it.”
“What do the messages say?” Camille asked, cleaning up the tea.
“The first one said ‘Please, go away.’ The second one said, and I quote, ‘They won’t stop looking for me until you’ve gone.’”
Tina covered her mouth with a shaking hand.
Camille stood up. “That’s it, you’re done here, honey. I mean it. You’re going back to your life. Your safe li
fe.” With that, she walked out front.
Tina pulled a flask from her purse and poured a healthy shot into her tea. “Our secret,” she said and took a long sip.
“Aunt Tina—”
“It’s not you. It’s everything else. The fires, the rest of the family. It’s all driving me to drink. Do me a favor, darling, and cover for the twins out front until they show up? I’m just going to finish my tea.”
The twins were a full hour late, with no explanation. Stella and Gregg called in sick, which Summer took to mean they needed an attitude adjustment day.
When Madeline and Diana finally arrived, Madeline had a sneer on her face and Diana had her head buried in the latest Teen People. She peeked up long enough to look at Summer and shake her head mournfully. “Your horoscope was a doozy.”
“Don’t tell me.”
“You’re going to be extremely unlucky in love today specifically.”
“As opposed to what?” Summer asked. “All the luck I’ve had?”
“Oh and also it said you probably shouldn’t get out of bed.”
“Great. Thanks,” Summer muttered as she left. She got into the Bug and drove to Joe’s work.
He wasn’t there, though she found Kenny in the large common room on the ground floor, where the firefighters hung out when they weren’t on a fire. He was sprawled on a faded orange corduroy couch that looked as soft and comfortable as it was old, eating soup out of a Styrofoam cup and watching a soap opera.
He winced when she caught him. “Don’t tell Joe.”
“Why would Joe care if you’re eating Cup-O-Soup?”
He pushed up his glasses. “Not the soup, the soap opera.”
Summer glanced at the TV screen. A beautiful young woman sat in a bubble bath, being attended to by an even more beautiful young man who sat shirtless at her side. He poured her wine and dropped rose petals over her body, flexing his muscles as he did.
“Let’s face it,” Kenny said. “Our Joe isn’t much for flowers and wine.”
