Tough Love: Back to Buckhorn

by Lori Foster

  “Don’t sound so horrified. I’m telling you not to fall in love with her.”

  “Wasn’t planning to!”

  “But you shouldn’t sleep with her, either.”

  He put the brakes on his retreat. “Now wait just a min—”

  “Since you’re not Adam, who would probably already be in her bed—”

  Over his dead body!

  “—you should be able to handle that, right?”

  No, damn it. He didn’t want to handle it. He searched Amber’s face, saw she looked dead serious and turned away with a muttered curse.

  Since leaving Zoey earlier, he’d thought a dozen times about the way she kissed, how good she’d tasted, the small sounds she’d made, the way those full lips of hers felt under his...

  “I can almost hear what you’re thinking.”

  Jerking around, he pointed a finger at her. “Then close your meddling ears.”

  She pointed right back. “If you sleep with her, then you damn well better step up and be there for her!”

  Just what did she mean by that?

  Amber slung her purse strap up and over her shoulder and started for the office door. Hand on the doorknob, her back still to him, she paused.

  Garrett felt the imminent doom.

  “She’s not welcome at her uncle’s. I don’t know if you knew that, but he blames her, too.”

  Son of a bitch.

  “If you’ve heard the gossip, then you know a lot of people are hanging on to that old grudge.”

  “You don’t,” he reminded her. “I don’t.”

  “No.” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You and I also know she deserves better than to be used after walking back into the line of fire for her mom. I hope you remember that, Garrett.”

  After that direct shot to his lustful intentions, his sister departed, now with less steam than when she’d entered.

  Garrett watched her, noticed that Noel Poet did, too. He scowled, but with guilt sitting heavy on his shoulders he couldn’t work up any real concern over it. God knew, Amber could take care of herself.

  Talk about a turnaround. He’d wanted Zoey, was pretty sure he’d have had her tonight, and he’d figured on them both enjoying themselves.

  But he didn’t want to hurt her, or add to her burdens. Amber was right—Zoey deserved better than that.

  His sister’s visit had just changed everything.

  Well, hell.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ZOEY SPENT MORE TIME at the hospital than she’d meant to. But her mom was awake, feeling more energetic and seemed to enjoy her company. She moved better now, without as much pain. She still had staples in place from the surgery on her hip, and she tired easily from the pneumonia, but she smiled and it gave Zoey hope.

  They’d made plans, talking about how it would be when she moved in with Zoey, and for the first time since her return, her mother’s eyes had glittered with anticipation instead of pain and defeat.

  How could she leave in the middle of that? She couldn’t, so she’d stuck around until the very last minute, then had to race to get to the grocery store so she’d be back at her house before Garrett got there.

  Funny thing though, as she raced the cart down an aisle, she recognized his sexy butt in worn jeans.

  He stood at the meat aisle checking out the steaks.

  Zoey snuck up behind him, considered patting that fine tush, but decided against it with so many people around. Her rep was bad enough without adding fuel to the fire.

  Instead, she gave him a hip bump. “Hey, stranger.”

  Garrett turned with a big smile that, for some reason, faded as he saw they had an audience. “What are you doing here?”

  She could ignore the gawkers, if he would. “I was visiting with my mom, so I’m running late. Sorry. Just grabbing some salad and potatoes and heading home.”

  He snagged up a package of steaks, commandeered her cart and steered them both back in the direction she’d just come from. “How’s she doing?”

  “Much better, thank you. They’ll have her up and walking soon.” She eyed the enormous steaks.

  “I meant to hit the butcher’s, but a meeting ran over and they closed a few hours ago. Luckily the grocery stays open all night now.” He hustled her along as he spoke. “You remember how they used to roll the sidewalks up at six?”

  “Yes.” She tried to slow him down. “Where are we going?”

  “You said you wanted salad.”

  “Isn’t it back that—”

  “Zoey Hodge.”

  Oh, God. That particular screech of outrage carried the same effect as it had in high school. Zoey cringed, knew Garrett saw her cringe, and belatedly realized why he was taking her the long way across the store.

  He’d hoped to spare her, but it was bound to happen sooner or later.

  Taking two seconds to compose herself, Zoey put on a friendly smile and turned to face the unpleasant past. It wasn’t just Carrie. She had her younger brother—Cody—with her. They both gave her venomous glares.

  “Carrie,” Zoey said with calm, polite regard. “How have you been?”

  As bitter as ever, Carrie crowded into her space, narrowed her eyes and spat, “How dare you come back here?”

  * * *

  AS THEY STOOD by the grill, for the tenth time, Garrett asked, “You sure you’re okay?”

  His concern was sweet, but it was starting to get laughable. “Do I look broken?” She rolled her eyes, hoping he’d let it go. Yes, it had been ugly. Cody had watched her with sad, narrowed eyes. And Carrie had looked...haunted.

  She felt a little sick being the recipient of all that ugly emotion.

  But she hoped she’d handled it well.

  Certainly, she’d handled it better than Garrett. She could still hear him saying, High school is over, Carrie. Grow up already.

  The poor girl had stood there looking mortified, wounded and vindictive all at the same time, until Cody had quietly led her away. Clearly she’d expected Garrett to back her up.

  That he hadn’t made Zoey almost feel sorry for her.

  His hand clasped her shoulder. “The Donahues are only a small part of the community.”

  “I know.” In high school the Donahue children had been part of the elite society. But even before Gus had died and Carrie started openly hating her, Zoey had been an outsider. Her lower-income upbringing and the free-spirited way her mother raised her had ensured she’d always be different. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d ever belonged.

  Freaks, Carrie had told her, belonged nowhere.

  Zoey told herself that most people were happy to move beyond a seven-year-old scandal. “A lot of people here have watched me with some uncertainty, but overall they’ve been nice.” She stepped around Garrett to turn the steaks. “And your family, of course, is always awesome.”

  “Yeah, they are.” He took the long fork from her and removed his steak from the grill, plopping it on a platter.

  Distaste scrunched her face and her stomach curled. “You’re going to eat it that bloody?”

  “It’s rare,” he explained.

  “It’s still mooing.”

  He laughed, took in her aversion and paused. “Does it really bother you?”

  “Yeah. I’m not sure I can kiss someone with blood on their teeth, and I really wanted to kiss you again.”

  As if someone had used the fork on his sexy butt, he jumped—then froze.

  Case in point, Zoey thought, knowing she’d again spoken out in a way few would have. But darn it, she had no skills in tact or subtlety. “You don’t want to kiss me again?” Because she was pretty darned certain he did. And she definitely wanted him to. Shoot, her lips still tingled from that earlier taste.

/>   His gaze went to her mouth, held there, and he groaned.

  Now what was that about? Did he regret kissing her? Hands on her hips, she frowned at him. “Is something wrong?”

  “Not a thing.” While muttering something about his sister, he put the steak back on the grill.

  Unsure if that meant he would kiss her after all, she moved nearer to him. When he faced her, her heart tried to punch its way out of her chest. “Amber eats her steak raw, too?”

  “Rare, and no. She’s medium.” He stroked her hair, seemed to catch himself, and tucked a stray tendril behind her ear. “What about you?”

  “I’m well-done. No pink at all.”

  He opened his mouth...then shut it again with a wince of guilt and focused on his steak, using the long fork to move it to the corner of the grill.

  “What?” Zoey goosed his midsection, realized there was no give to the solid muscles there and opened her hand on him for a better feel. He felt really good under the soft cotton of his T-shirt. “What were you going to say?”

  “Something I shouldn’t.” He caught her hand and held it.

  “Okay, now I have to know!”

  “It was...” He glanced at her, did a visible struggle with himself and gave up. “Suggestive.”

  “Suggestive?”

  “Sexual,” he clarified.

  “Really?” Better and better. She leaned in and lowered her voice. “Tell me.”

  With a wicked smile, he gave in. “Something about me liking pink.” When she just stared at him, he elaborated. “Pink. On you.”

  She shook her head.

  And that made his smile widen into a grin. Bending to her ear, he whispered, “I think of pink, and I visualize all those warm, damp places on your naked body—”

  “Garrett!” With a rush of heat—not all of it embarrassment—she stumbled back from him.

  Amusement growing by the second, he shrugged. “You insisted.”

  When he had her blushing, he seemed more comfortable, like maybe her embarrassment presented a necessary barrier between them. “I don’t understand you.”

  “I’m a guy. Easy enough to understand.”

  She snorted. Nothing easy about him at all. He teased and flirted, but was most at ease when she didn’t return the favor. Did he flirt with every woman? Maybe she read too much into it. Maybe it made him uncomfortable to know she was equally—or probably more—attracted to him.

  He lifted the steak. “Is that cooked enough that I can eat it without repulsing you?”

  It wasn’t, but she nodded anyway.

  She didn’t have a picnic table yet, or even any outdoor chairs. But it didn’t bother Garrett. Before starting the grill, he’d gone to his truck, got a blanket from behind the seat and spread it in the yard picnic-style beneath one of the tall elm trees.

  It was by far the most wonderful, romantic dinner she’d ever had.

  By the time they started eating, the sun had sunk low, barely visible behind the hills, splashing the sky in inspiring shades of crimson, tangerine and mauve. The air cooled a little, making it more comfortable even as the nighttime humidity set in.

  They ate in a cozy silence, watching as lightning bugs showed up by the dozen. Zoey plucked a blade of dewy grass. “I’d forgotten how damp everything is around a lake. I’m getting wet just sitting here.”

  This time when he grinned, Zoey knew why and she threw her napkin at him.

  With a low laugh, he tossed it back at her. “Don’t want me to visualize that, huh?”

  “No!”

  “Too late,” he said softly. Reaching out, he caught her ankle and moved his thumb over her skin. “Are you this soft all over?”

  At that brief, simple touch, her heart sped up. “I don’t know.”

  Their gazes clashed and held as his fingertips trailed up her calf to the inside of her knee.

  Her heart hammered and her toes curled.

  Abruptly he released her, pushed his empty plate back and left the blanket to explore the fire pit a few yards away.

  Staring after him, Zoey saw the stiff way he held his shoulders. Why the sudden retreat?

  “Have you used this yet?”

  “No.” Quickly she finished up the last few bites of her own meal and joined him.

  It felt very intimate standing beside him in the shadowy sunset. All around them insects chirped as twinkling stars pierced the dark sky.

  Zoey didn’t want the evening to end already. After clearing her throat, she asked, “Can we fire it up, do you think?”

  He crouched down and examined the stones placed around the pit.

  While he did that, she examined the breadth of his shoulders, the long line of his spine, how his thighs strained the denim of his jeans.

  No two ways about it, the man was put together fine. But her draw to him was more than that. He’d always been friendly, a natural born leader, and now as a fireman he lived as a hero. He had an easy, comfortable way about him that proved he made up his own mind instead of being swayed, didn’t judge others, but instead offered help when he could.

  She thought of how he’d defended her in the grocery store, and it did funny things to her. Nice things.

  Turbulent things.

  For the longest time he remained in that position, his face turned away from her.

  Tension mounted until Zoey doubted she’d be able to convince him to stay. “Garrett?”

  He straightened again, and looked down at her for a heart-stopping length of time.

  She smiled. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” Almost against his will, he touched her cheek, then shook his head. “I’ll gather up some kindling if you want to grab matches and maybe some old papers, too.”

  “All right.” But to be sure, she asked, “You’re staying a little longer?”

  “If that’s okay.”

  “It’s terrific.” Lighthearted now that she knew she hadn’t chased him off, she collected their dishes on her way in and put them in the sink. Her ancient plumbing didn’t include a dishwasher, so she’d take care of washing them later.

  While inside, she hugged herself, anticipating more kissing.

  Garrett kept her guessing, but she’d learned to live with optimism.

  After locating an old magazine and the box of matches she kept with candles on a shelf, she hurried back out.

  It pleased her to see that he’d rearranged the blanket and their drinks closer to the pit and had an impressive stack of twigs laid inside it, with some bigger fallen branches waiting to go on next.

  “Will this work?”

  “That’s perfect.” He tore out several pages, rolled them tightly, and stuck them between the twigs.

  Unsure what else to do, Zoey lowered herself to her knees on the blanket.

  And hoped he would join her soon.

  While he worked, he asked in more detail about her mother’s progress and seemed genuinely pleased that she was doing better. Because his work as a fireman included paramedic training, he had a great understanding of what her mother’s treatment would be.

  “I should be able to bring her home by the end of the month. Until then, I still have a lot of stuff to get done inside.”

  “Before I leave, I could take a look.”

  “At what?”

  He laughed. “Your house. That way I’ll have an idea of what we need before we get started next Saturday.”

  Sitting back on her heels, Zoey considered him and his repeated offers to help. Was he just being his usual terrific self, or looking for reasons to be around her?

  Everyone knew his entire family was made up of do-gooders who took large, active roles in the community, either through their careers, or plain goodwill. Being that he was the same, maybe Garrett saw her
as a project.

  She hated that idea.

  Once the fire started, Garrett added a few of the bigger logs, waiting until they snapped and hissed before sitting beside Zoey. Legs out, arms braced behind him, he sat catty-corner to her, facing the fire.

  She faced him, her knees almost touching his thigh.

  “That shed is a fire hazard,” he said. “I think we should just knock it down.”

  “I peeked inside there one day, saw a snake and haven’t gotten anywhere near it since.”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  That made her frown. She put her shoulders back. “It’s my shed, so I’ll help. Even if there are snakes.”

  He gave her a fleeting smile. “All right.”

  Damn. She glanced at the shed in the dusk and shuddered. Maybe she should have kept her mouth shut.

  “So, about your mom...” With noticeable caution, he asked, “Think she’ll be up to joining us at the fund-raiser?”

  Thrilled at the suggestion, Zoey stared at him. “You’re serious?”

  “It’s a big event. Most of the town will be there. I mean, it’s not like it would have been...”

  “Private?” The way this was.

  “Yeah. There’ll be competitions and dancing and raffles. What do you think?”

  The firelight played over his face, putting blue highlights in his hair, emphasizing the cut of his cheekbones, the length of his dark lashes. She sighed. “I think you’re wonderful.”

  That must have surprised him. His brows twitched with a puzzled frown. “You don’t mind?”

  That he was sweet enough to include her mother? “Of course not.” Without thinking about it, she leaned in and gave him a quick, tight hug of gratitude. “Thank you.”

  She started to lean away again, but with his left arm around her, he kept her close. His hand opened on her back, caressing. He nuzzled her temple.

  Relaxing, she sank against him.

  Near her ear, he murmured, “You smell good, Zoey.”

  She loved hearing that particular husky tone from him.

  The heat of the fire teased along their skin, combating the humidity. Down by the lake, frogs started a chorus of croaking that echoed over the yard.