A lover?
Consuelo rose and carried their empty plates to the sink and washed them. Josie picked up the cups and followed, then grabbed a cloth from the counter and returned to the table.
How dare he kiss me and then threaten me in the same breath, Josie thought. She ran the damp cloth over the table vigorously, as if she could wipe away the memory of their encounter. He’d actually had the gall to threaten her with more of the same if she remained in Sandera. Well, they’d just see about that.
But you weren’t supposed to enjoy it, Josie, a little voice argued.
She threw the cloth in the sink. She’d been easy prey, that was all. He had taken advantage of a divorced, lonely woman. She frowned. Well, he was sadly mistaken if he thought she would submit so meekly the next time. From now on, she would be on her guard.
Josie looked across the expanse of room and found Consuelo leaning against the sink, studying her intently.
“Chica, are you sure that’s all he said to you? Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Josie pried her gaze from her friend’s discerning stare. She realized she must have been frowning, and forced a smile. Sometimes she could swear Consuelo knew how to read her mind.
“No, nothing else,” she lied. “I turned down his offer of a loan, and that’s when he told me I looked like a chili pepper.”
“Hmmm. That doesn’t sound like Logan. But who knows, maybe he’s been under stress, lately.”
Josie shrugged. “Maybe.” She felt a twinge of annoyance that she had kissed him back, that she had abandoned all caution in his arms. She ran her tongue over her lips, as if by doing so she could wipe away the memory of his kiss.
It didn’t work. Her mouth still tingled with his taste.
Logan sat across the breakfast table from his dad and brother and stared into the dark liquid his brother called coffee. He was having a difficult time forgetting how soft and desirable Josie’s body had felt in his arms. Her mouth tasted every bit as good as he’d imagined. More surprising was the fact that she’d returned his kiss. In fact, he had half way expected her to slap him. He almost wished she had. A willing Josie was more dangerous to his senses.
He took a sip. Then he grimaced, but not because of the coffee. There was no excuse for what he’d done. He should have let well enough alone. But when Josie told him she’d planned to stay in town, some deep part of him rebelled. Or had it been panic? He knew she’d felt his erection. Well, if that didn’t make her run, nothing would.
Either way, Josie Hughes was trouble, and he’d do well to steer clear of her.
“Something wrong?”
Logan blinked and looked at his brother. “What do you call this stuff?”
“If you think you can do better, be my guest. Somehow though, I don’t think you were scowling over my coffee.”
Logan set his cup aside. “I’m just tired.” He rose and took his cup over to the sink, washed it, and put it on the drain to dry.
Dylan leaned back in his chair. “It was interesting meeting Josie Hughes last night.”
When Logan made no comment, Dylan added, “What do you think of her?”
Logan frowned. “I don’t think anything about her one way or another,” he muttered.
Ray McKinnon looked up from his newspaper, suddenly interested in his son’s conversation. “Heard she’s had a rough time of it.”
“Yeah. She’s a nice lady. Has a little boy, too ... cute little guy,” Dylan said, and his glance locked with Logan’s.
Logan’s scowl deepened. “I’m going into town; I’ll talk to you two later.”
When he slammed the door shut behind him, Dylan and his father exchanged glances.
“Wonder what burr got under his saddle,” Dylan said.
Logan’s father went back to reading his newspaper. “Maybe he’s just tired, like he said.”
“Yeah,” Dylan answered, taking a swig of his coffee, “and I’m the Queen of Sheba. I saw the way he looked at her last night.”
When the elder McKinnon didn’t offer any more conversation, Dylan set his cup down. “Maybe my dear brother’s heart is thawing at last.”
One can only hope, thought his father, but he didn’t say it.
The sun was fat and powerful in spite of the mid-morning hour, but Josie and Michael didn’t care as they walked a block to the city park. Stepping off the sidewalk onto the grass, they hurried to find protection under the overhanging limbs of stately oaks whose crisply starched leaves needed water. Michael let go of Josie’s hand and made a dash for one of the swings.
Although Josie loved having Michael close by while she worked in the restaurant, she hated having him confined to one location. He needed to run and play, and this park was a perfect place for him to work off some of his energy. Josie knew the exercise would do her good, too, after a steady diet of enchiladas.
She walked over and claimed the swing beside him, and they swung for a while, but Michael soon became bored and ran over to the merry-go-round. Two children joined him, and he laughed at something one of them said. Josie smiled, happy that Michael had lost some of his shyness since they’d been in Sandera.
That morning Josie had called her aunt and parents to assure them that she and Michael were fine. Her aunt had wanted to know when she was coming home.
Home. For a moment she wondered what the word home meant to most people. Was it merely a place where one grew up-familiar ground? My home, my roots, she’d heard her uncle proclaim with pride from time to time. El Paso had been her home until she’d married at nineteen. Then why wasn’t she more excited about going there?
Will Michael like El Paso? She wondered. Logan had sullenly reminded her that her son had already been uprooted once. Could she put him through that again? That dilemma grew stronger inside Josie with each passing day.
“Mommy? Are you okay?”
Josie jumped. She hadn’t realized there were tears in her eyes, and she wiped them away. “Oh sweetie, I—”
“That’s okay,” Michael said, “I’ve seen you cry before. When you didn’t know I was watching.” He kicked at an imaginary pebble.
“When?” Josie swallowed a lump in her throat.
“That last night...with Dad.”
Josie closed her eyes and sighed. She’d been so hurt that night—devastated. Then she had gotten angry—angry enough to cry. She hadn’t stopped to think about what her divorce would do to Michael. Not until later.
Josie’s heart swelled with love for her son—and pain. Michael had been the only perfect thing to come out of her marriage.
She had willed herself to be strong, but his words had only made things worse, and her breath caught painfully in her throat—so much so that for a moment she thought she might choke.
Josie slipped off the swing and knelt before him.
“Actually, sweetheart, my tears are from happiness. Haven’t you ever heard that women also cry when they’re happy?”
Michael shook his head.
“Well, they do. And I’m happy that you and I are safe, and together.” Josie forced a smile. “We’re going to be just fine,” she promised.
His glance strayed to the other children on the merry-go-round. Then he turned to her. “I know, Mom.”
Josie saw the effort it took him to smile, and she stood up. “Tell you what, let’s go get something to eat. You must be hungry by now.”
He nodded and wrapped his small hand tightly around hers. Michael hesitated, then asked, “Do we have enough money?”
Josie’s heart constricted again, and she bent down to hug him. “Of course, we have money. I got paid today. We can go anywhere you like, and you can order whatever you want, okay?”
“Oh, boy.” He smiled as they left the park.
“And haven’t we done okay so far?”
“Yeah, kind of.”
“What do you mean, kind of, you little imp?”
“Well, remember when that guy was flirting with you in that store and I stepp
ed on his foot? I thought fast.”
“Hey, I thought that was an accident!”
“Nope.” He pulled her along so she’d hurry.
Josie grinned. His hand felt so soft, so secure, in hers. She wanted to wrap him up in all the love she felt at that moment, to protect him always.
She leaned down slightly, but kept walking. “I have a confession to make, too. I’m glad you came to my rescue. Thank you,” she added in a conspiratorial whisper.
She attempted another stab at humor. “I think I want Chicken Fried Steak with lots of mashed potatoes and gravy.” Her stomach turned over at the thought. “And a great big piece of pecan pie.”
Michael started giggling. “Mommy, you don’t like sugary things.”
“You’re sweet, and I like you, don’t I?”
“Oh brother,” he said as he let go of her hand and started running. “I can tell you’re fixing to get mushy.”
Josie quickened her stride. “Then you’d better run faster, ‘cuz I’m coming after you, and you know what’ll happen when I catch you.”
“Yikes,” he screamed, and ran faster. “No mushy stuff, pleeeeze.”
They reached Consuelo’s with Josie a few feet behind him. Michael ran in, stopped beside a table, and pulled out a chair for her. He waited patiently until she was seated before he sat down.
“Is this where you want to eat?” she asked him.
“Yeah. I like it here.”
“In that case, kind sir, thanks,” she said, and blew him a kiss.
He dodged it, and they both laughed.
Sophia walked over and dropped two menus on the table. “You probably have this menu memorized. Hi, Michael.”
Michael smiled and waved at her.
Sophia placed her hand on her hip and said, “Wish it was my day off, and I was getting served.”
Josie smiled. “I’ll do it tomorrow, but today it’s my turn. And Michael is very hungry, aren’t you, sweetie?”
Michael made a big show of studying the menu, then slapped it down and slid it across the table toward Sophia. “I’ll take a burger and fries with a big cola, please.”
Josie and Sophia exchanged smiles. “What?” Sophie exclaimed. “We have all this great Mexican food, and you want a hamburger?” Sophia turned to Josie. “And what will you have?”
Josie started to order soup, but a thoughtful frown from Michael made her change her mind. “I’ll have the same except for the cola. Make mine iced tea, please.” She winked at Michael. “All that running made me hungry.”
Michael’s gaze shifted to a spot over her left shoulder, and Josie glanced over to see who it was. Her pulse quickened, and her stomach turned to mush, just as it did every time she saw Logan. She reasoned that was because she always expected bad news from him.
Logan sat by the window watching them. He nodded politely, which surprised Josie. He usually scowled at her. After what he had done, she ought to ignore him completely. However, because of Michael, she nodded quickly in acknowledgment before turning away.
Josie took a calming breath as they waited for their food. When it arrived, she and Michael ate in silence. Much later, after she had finished eating, she glanced toward Logan again and saw him gazing pensively out the window.
He must have seen her and Michael running up to the restaurant. Or maybe he hadn’t thought she and her son were important enough to give his attention to. She picked up her tea and sipped it.
Logan had been staring vacantly out the window when Josie and Michael ran up to the restaurant. Like radar, his attention had been captured and held by her laughter. It was the first time he’d seen her laugh, really laugh—like bottled up joy she doled out sparingly on special occasions. His gaze had lingered on her face before lowering to her shapely breasts as they moved enticingly beneath her tee shirt as she ran. His senses heightened and he shifted uncomfortably as his body tightened with stirrings of desire. He frowned. He’d been without a woman too long, no doubt it was getting to him.
But he didn’t need a woman to mess up his life. Not that he had a great life but it was the way he wanted it. Simple. No complications, no promises, no heartache. Especially with a woman like Josie, whose dark eyes held her own secret demons though her heart-shaped mouth promised a passion that could make a man weak with hunger.
Josie Hughes was definitely a woman to stay away from. He didn’t know what had possessed him to kiss her. Maybe it was because she’d looked at him with those beautiful eyes and sulky mouth and practically told him to go to hell. That and the fact that she had accused him of wanting to get rid of her because he disliked her, which couldn’t be further from the truth. That had been the last straw.
He’d been tempted to shake her until her teeth rattled. What he’d done instead was grab her and kissed her with no thought of anything but tasting that sweet mouth.
He’d finally lost his mind. That was the only way he could explain his actions. Of course, he could apologize and tell her she didn’t have to worry about him. He glanced over in her direction again—his gaze taking in the outline of her chin, the dark sooty lashes, and that mouth that drove him crazy and had shaken him to his very core—and knew he would be lying.
He looked away. It was too late. He now had the taste of her in his mind.
He pushed back his chair and got up. When he passed them on his way out, he didn’t even glance in their direction.
Good, Josie thought. It had saved her the trouble of ignoring him. After all, what was one kiss in the grand scheme of things? Absolutely nothing.
She shoved her empty plate to one side and started to rise.
“Hey, Michael,” Consuelo said as she approached their table, “Juana wants to know if you want some of that apple pie she just took out of the oven?”
“Oh, yeah!” Michael said.
“Why don’t you go tell her?”
Michael slid off his chair and ran toward the kitchen.
Consuelo sat down. “So, what’s going on?”
Josie smiled. “Nothing much. It got too hot at the park and—”
“I mean what’s going on between you and Logan?”
Josie frowned. “Nothing. Why?”
Consuelo studied her closely. “I saw the way he looked at you—like he was starving for a large meal, with you as the main course.”
Josie laughed uneasily. “Oh, Consuelo, you have such a vivid imagination. You should be a writer.”
“Amiga, I know what I saw. Believe me, I recognize the signs. He’s smitten with you.”
“You’re mistaken,” Josie replied flatly. “Besides, I thought he was your boyfriend.”
Consuelo’s mouth opened in shock. “My what?” She threw back her head and laughed. “Where in the world did you get that idea?”
“Well, you two seem...close.”
“Oh, we are, but only as friends. Now you, on the other hand, turn him on.”
Josie shook her head. “You’re impossible—and mistaken. Logan will probably jump for joy the day he sees my backside leaving town.”
Consuelo sighed. “You’re one stubborn Chicana, but you’ll see I’m right.”
“Evidently you see something in him that I don’t. But it doesn’t matter whether you’re right or not. I’ve seen the way he acts around my son, and I don’t like what I see. He obviously doesn’t like kids.”
Consuelo was silent for a moment. “You couldn’t be more wrong, Josie. Logan loves kids.”
“Have you ever seen him talking to my son?”
“Well, no—”
“That’s because he goes out of his way to ignore him.”
Consuelo hesitated. “Logan has...problems.”
Join the club, she thought. “Well, he shouldn’t take them out on us.”
“I don’t think he can help it, Josie. He suffered a depression two years ago, after his son Stevie died.”
Josie threw her a puzzled frown. “He had a son?”
“His son died two years ago.”
&nb
sp; Josie stared at Consuelo, trying to take in the information. She swallowed, knowing how devastated she would be if something happened to Michael. She would want to die.
“I’m really sorry about his loss, Consuelo, but I don’t understand what that has to do with us.”
Consuelo stood up. “Why don’t you come upstairs for a minute? I have something to show you.”
Josie grabbed her purse and, after making sure that Michael was still with Juana, she followed Consuelo upstairs.
“Come on into the bedroom.” Consuelo walked over to her closet and reached up to take a photo album from the top shelf.
Josie noticed something unusual hanging on the wall. “Consuelo, this is an interesting art form. Do you use it? And on whom?” She smiled.
Consuelo glanced at the coiled leather whip hanging on a hook and grinned. “When I saw the movie Batman, with Michelle Pfeiffer in that black leather outfit, showing off with her whip, I went out and got one. Actually, on some of my off time, I practice with it. I’m getting pretty good, if I do say so myself.”
They sat on the bed, and Consuelo opened the album. A photograph fell on the floor, and Josie bent over to pick it up. Consuelo, Logan, and another man stared into the camera.
“Is this Logan’s other brother?” Josie asked, noticing the resemblance.
“Yes, that’s Jake, his older brother. He lives in Chicago.”
“He must be a good friend.” Josie smiled, handing back the photo. “He has his arms around you.”
Consuelo shrugged a delicate shoulder and stuck the photo back in the album. “We were an item once, but it didn’t work out.” She thumbed through the album until she found what she was searching for.
“This is Logan and Stevie just before Stevie died. Logan was so broken up over it that no one thought he’d ever recover.”
Josie studied Logan, who had the most stunning smile she’d ever seen. He looked so relaxed and happy. As her gaze switched to his son, a gasp from Consuelo made her glance up.
Destination: Love (The Sandera, Texas Series) Page 6
