The Novels of Nora Roberts, Volume 4

by Nora Roberts

  “It wouldn’t be the first shouting match to play out in Joanie’s. What do you want, Reece?”

  “To push rewind, I guess. But since I can’t, to deal with the consequences.” This time when she broke off a corner of toast, she ate it. “I’ll talk to Joanie tomorrow, see where I go from there.”

  “That’s not to the point. Do you want to go or do you want to stay?”

  She stood, took her bowl to the sink to rinse it out. “I like what I see everywhere I look when I walk around town. I like having people wave as they drive by, or stop to talk when I’m walking. I like hearing Linda-gail laugh when she’s taking orders, and the way Pete sings when he washes dishes.”

  She turned, leaned back against the sink. “The air feels good on my skin, and any day the flats are going to bloom. But there are other places with beautiful views and friendly people. The trouble with them is they’re not here. The trouble with them is you’re not in them. So I want to stay.”

  He rose and went to her, and in a gesture more tender than she’d ever expected from him, brushed the hair back from her face. “That’s what I want, too. I want you to stay.”

  When he kissed her, gently, very gently, her arms slid up to wind around his neck. “If you wouldn’t mind—I know you’ve already gone to a lot of trouble on my behalf today—but if you wouldn’t mind, maybe you could show me what you want.”

  Now she rubbed her lips against his. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

  Together, they circled their way out of the room, lips brushing, bodies warming.

  “Indulge me,” she told him.

  “That was my plan.”

  “No.” She chuckled against his throat. “Indulge me and say it again. Just say you want me to stay.”

  “Women always want a man to grovel.” He found her mouth again, turned her toward the living room. “I want you to stay.”

  Oh yes, she thought, better than Keats. And held him close when he lowered her to the couch.

  The fire he’d lit as he did most nights had gone to simmering red embers. That’s what she felt inside her, felt from him, the warmth and the simmer instead of the flash of leaping flames.

  She could bask in it, stroking his hair, his skin, letting her mouth surrender to his. Tonight she could be soothed by his hands and know the quiet glow of contentment. He’d made her tea and soup, and he wanted her to stay.

  Love washed over her in slow, swamping waves.

  As she reached for him, as she offered, he wanted more than to take. He wanted most to comfort her, to smooth out all her troubles. Then to lift her from them. No one else had ever reached that tenderness inside him, no one else had ever coaxed it out until it drenched him.

  He could give her that, that tenderness. And every soft sigh she offered back only enhanced his own pleasure.

  As he undressed her, his fingers, his lips, brushed and stroked over newly exposed skin. The scent of his soap on her aroused a possessiveness in him. His. To touch, to taste, to hold. Her fingers feathered over his face, into his hair as her body arched to give. And give.

  The strength of him, the muscles, the big hands, the tough build now so gentle thrilled her. That he could touch her with such care and patience, that his lips could meet hers, again and again, with such sweetness left her dazzled.

  Everything inside her went loose and liquid, and still he gave her more.

  The blood began to pulse under her skin; the first beats of urgency. As if he heard it, he took her up, let that coiled need spring loose. And as she drifted down again, she made a sound like a woman who’d just tasted something rich and honeyed.

  Her heavy eyes opened, dreamed into his.

  He fell into them, into the dark magic of them. His heart fell with him, tumbling, tumbling free. He couldn’t stop it, couldn’t catch it, or himself.

  He slipped into her, watched her start the rise again.

  “Don’t close your eyes.” He covered her mouth with his, still watching while they moved together.

  Rhythm quickened; breath shortened. His body began its final rush while she raced with him. He gripped her hands and saw those eyes he couldn’t resist blur as she fisted tight around him. As she said his name.

  His own vision dimmed as she pulled him with her.

  They lay together, wrapped together, as the night ticked away and the embers died. When he felt her begin to drift off, he simply reached up to pull the throw on the back of the couch over them.

  She cuddled in, murmured something. Then slept.

  Beside her he closed his eyes and smiled into the dark. She hadn’t asked him to check the locks, he thought, but had slipped into sleep without fear.

  LO HAD HIS hand up Linda-gail’s shirt and a condom in his pocket. The part of his brain that still remained above his belt buckle flashed back to when they’d been sixteen and the situation had been remarkably similar.

  Only this time they were in her little house instead of the old Ford pickup his mother had helped him buy. There was a bedroom close by, though the couch would do just fine.

  Her pretty breast—which he hadn’t gotten a look at since that summer so long ago—was soft and warm in his hand. Her mouth, and he’d never forgotten her mouth, was just as hot and sweet as spiced candy.

  And God, she smelled good.

  She was so miraculously curvy. Fuller than she’d been at sixteen, but in all the right places. And if at first he’d been baffled, even a little annoyed that she’d gone off and dyed her hair, he was currently finding it damn sexy. Almost like having his hands on a stranger.

  But when that hand slid down to the button of her jeans, hers clamped over it. She said, as she’d said at sixteen, “Uh-uh.”

  “Oh now, honey.” He spread his fingers up over her belly, felt it tremble as he nibbled his way down her throat. “I just want—”

  “Can’t always get what you want, Lo.” Her voice wasn’t steady, but she kept her hand firm over his. “And you’re not getting it tonight.”

  “You know I want you. God almighty, I always have. You want me, too.” His lips made a lazy journey back to hers. “Why do you want to tease me this way, sweetheart?”

  “Don’t call me sweetheart unless you mean it. And this isn’t a tease.” It took a lot of willpower to push away from him, but she did just that. When she did, she could see the surprise on his face, and the first hints of anger. “It’s not going to be like that between you and me.”

  “Like what?”

  “You won’t be banging me, then moving on.”

  “Well, for Christ’s sake, Linda-gail.” Sincere confusion rippled over his face. “You’re the one who said I should come over.”

  “To talk about Reece.”

  “Now that’s bull and you know it. You didn’t scream for help when I kissed you.”

  “I liked when you kissed me. I like it just fine. I always did, Lo.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “We’re not kids anymore, and I’m not looking for a couple of nights of wrestling. If you are, you might as well go find one of the women you know who’re happy with just that.” Fussily, she smoothed her half-buttoned shirt. “I’ve got higher standards.”

  “Higher standards?” The hints of anger coalesced. “That’s a hell of a thing to say to me. You got me over here just to stir me up, then flick me off. Got names for women like that.”

  Her chin lifted, very slowly, until their eyes met. Hers shot hot bullets. “You think that, you’d better get out. Right now.”

  “I’m going.” He shoved to his feet. “What the hell do you want?”

  “When you figure it out, you can come back.” She got up, picked up his hat, tossed it to him. “But you leave here and go hunt up one of those women and I hear about it, you won’t get in the door again.”

  “So I can’t have you, or anybody else until you say different?”

  “No, Lo, you can’t have me or anybody else until you know the difference. One thing you do know is the way out.�
��

  Twisted with unreleased lust and frustration, Linda-gail strolled back to her bedroom and shut the door. With a bang.

  For a moment Lo only stared after her. What in the damn depths of hell had just happened? He could still taste her, his palm was still warm from her breast. And she walked off, slammed the damn door?

  Furious, he stormed out. Women like her, he thought, women who used a man, ordered a man around, played games, should be made to pay a price for it.

  He slammed into his truck, sent one dark look back toward the house with the yellow shutters. She thought she knew him, thought she had him pegged.

  She was dead wrong.

  20

  IT WASN’T HARD to walk into Joanie’s. What did she have to lose? In any case, she’d learned in therapy how important it was to face and resolve problems, and to take responsibility.

  Embarrassment was a small price to pay for mental health, Reece told herself. And accepting the embarrassment might get her job back.

  Groveling wasn’t out of the question.

  Added to it, her daily horoscope had advised her to shoulder burdens. If she did so, she would find they didn’t weigh as much as expected.

  That was a good sign.

  Still, she went in the back way, and ten minutes before opening. There was no point in spreading her embarrassment around to customers chowing down on steak and eggs if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.

  Joanie, feet planted in their practical shoes, was mixing up an enormous bowl of batter. The air smelled of coffee and warm biscuits.

  “You’re late,” Joanie snapped. “Unless you got a note from Doc, don’t think I won’t dock you for it.”

  “But—”

  “I don’t want excuses, I want reliability—and I want onions, chili peppers and tomatoes prepped for huevos rancheros. Stow your things and get to work.”

  “All right.” More chastened than she would have been had Joanie showed her the door, Reece scooted into the office, left her purse and jacket. Back in the kitchen, she grabbed an apron. “I want to apologize for yesterday.”

  “Apologize while you work. I don’t pay you to talk.”

  Reece set herself up at the work counter. “I’m sorry I was such a bitchy pain in the ass yesterday. I had no right to insult you, even though the addition of fresh herbs and other basic ingredients would improve the breadth of your menu.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Reece saw Joanie’s brows shoot up, and her lips twitch. “That covers it.”

  “All right.”

  “Wasn’t any damn dill set you off.”

  “No. It was something handy to throw at you, metaphorically speaking.”

  “I had to deal with a dead body once.”

  “What? I’m sorry?”

  “Rented one of my cabins to this fella from Atlanta, Georgia. Rented to him the year before, and the one before that. Used to come for two weeks in the summer with his family. That’d be, oh, ten years back. But this time, he came by himself. Seems the wife was divorcing him. Go on, get some sausage started. Lynt’ll be in first thing this morning, and he likes sausage with his eggs.”

  Obediently, Reece got the tub of loose sausage from the refrigerator and began to make patties.

  “So, when this Georgia boy doesn’t come back into town to turn in the cabin keys, I have to haul my ass out there. Anyway, I used to do the cleaning of the rental places myself back then. I went out there with my cleaning kit. His car’s still there, so I banged on the door. Irritated, because he was supposed to be out by ten sharp. I had another tenant coming in that day at three. He doesn’t answer, so…”

  She paused to pick up her mug of coffee, took a drink. “In I go. I expect I’m going to find him sleeping off a toot in bed. Guy who worked the liquor store back in those days, name of Frank, told me how the good old boy from Georgia bought himself two fifths of Wild Turkey the one time he came into town.

  “Instead I found what was left of him on the floor in front of the fire. I guess he drove from Georgia to Wyoming with a shotgun in his trunk for a reason. The reason being to blow his own head off.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “Did a good job of it. Blood and brains every damn where. Blew himself right out of the chair he’d been sitting in.”

  “That’s horrible. It must’ve been horrible for you to find him.”

  “It wasn’t a stroll on an island beach. After the cops did what cops do in such cases, I went back in. Had to clean the place, didn’t I?”

  “Yourself?”

  “Damn right myself. I scrubbed and I scrubbed, and I bitched and I cursed. Look what that son of a bitch did to my place. Bastard drove thousands of miles to shoot his stupid head off in my place. I poured out buckets stained with blood and God knows and I threw out what had been a perfectly good rug that’d cost me fifty dollars. And I chewed the head off anybody who offered to help me. I skinned the hide of my William when he came out to try.”

  “I see,” Reece replied. And she did.

  “Had to be mad, didn’t I? Had to rant and rage and slap at my boy for wanting to help me out. Because if I didn’t, I’d never be able to stand it.”

  Joanie walked over to the sink, dumped out the coffee that had gone cold. “Don’t rent that particular cabin to outsiders anymore. Just to locals who want to use it for a hunting or fishing trip or the like.”

  She poured herself more coffee. “So I’ve got some understanding of what was in your gut yesterday. True enough you didn’t know that, but you damn sure should know me better by this time.”

  “Joanie—”

  “If you needed to take off after going down to Rick’s office—if you needed togo off—it’s stupid, and it’s goddamn insulting for you to think I’d’ve given you any grief over it. Or I’d give you any about it now.”

  “You’re absolutely right. I should’ve known better.” She slid her gaze to where Joanie popped breakfast biscuits out of the oven. “I slapped at you and Brody the hardest, because you’re the closest. The two people I trust most.”

  “That’s some compliment.”

  “Did Lo come in, after I saw him at the mercantile?”

  “He did. Linda-gail, open her up! But since I don’t take orders from you, you’ll get your check on payday like everyone else.”

  “I, ah, swiped at him, too, and at Mr. Drubber.”

  “Grown men ought to be able to handle a woman’s temper from time to time.”

  A snort from Linda-gail had Joanie looking over her shoulder.

  “Some men never grow up. They’re spoiled little boys all their lives. Only way you’d’ve hurt Lo’s feelings, Reece, is if you’d swiped at his balls. That’s what runs the show for him.”

  “He may be an ass, Linda-gail,” Joanie said mildly, “but he’s still mine.”

  Though she colored up a little, Linda-gail shrugged. “Can’t help how I feel about it. But if you’re worried, Reece, he told me he could see you were awful upset. He didn’t hold anything you said against you.”

  The door opened with a jingle. “Hey, Doc, hey, Mr. D.” Linda-gail grabbed the coffeepot. “You’re bright and early this morning.”

  Reece hunched her shoulders, but she got out the eggs and bacon she expected to be cooking up shortly.

  “I don’t reckon Mac’ll hold anything against you, either.” In a move that took Reece completely by surprise, Joanie gave her a couple of light pats on the back. “You want to use your break later, you can use my office, call my produce supplier. I’ll give you a fifty-dollar budget—not a cent more—to order some of the damn fancy-pants herbs and such you’re always whining for.”

  “I can do a lot with fifty.” To start, Reece thought, and in her head she was pumping her fist in the air.

  “Better damn sight,” Joanie muttered.

  IN THE BOOTH, Doc cut into his short stack. Wasn’t his day for pancakes, but it was hard to deny himself after Mac had asked for this little breakfast meeting. And if he had a second cup
of real coffee instead of switching to decaf, it wasn’t such a big deal in the larger scheme.

  “Now, Mac, you know I can’t discuss Reece’s medical business. It’s privileged.”

  “I’m not asking you to. I’m just asking what you think. I’m telling you, that girl’s in trouble. You didn’t see her yesterday.” Mac gestured with his fork before scooping into his huevos rancheros. “I did.”

  “Heard enough about it.”

  “I wasn’t sure she’d still be here.” Mac angled his head so he could see back into the kitchen. “In fact, I figured she’d be long gone by now.”

  “I guess she has more reason to stay than go.”

  “I don’t know, Doc.” Concern deepened the creases in Mac’s brow, tightened his voice. “The way she was storming around my place. Mad, sure, but she just didn’t look well. I told you I was worried enough I went on down to check on her after I closed up. And her place was locked up tight as a vault, her car gone. Figured she’d lit out.”

  He dug for more eggs. “Wanted to talk to you about it. You could’ve bowled me over when I saw her back there in the kitchen this morning. Some relieved by it, I guess. I hated thinking she was out driving off somewhere in the state she was in.”

  “People get in states, Mac.” Doc waved a hand at Mac’s stubborn frown. “Some more than others. Plain to see she had a rough time yesterday.”

  “That’s the other thing.” Mac glanced over to make sure Linda-gail wasn’t on her way back to top off their coffee. Though the juke was silent—no music until ten o’clock was Joanie’s hard-and-fast rule—there was enough buzz of conversation and clatter to cover his voice.

  “First off, seems to me Rick should’ve known better than to have her come in alone to look at those pictures. Chrissake, Doc, most women couldn’t have handled that sort of thing, much less one who’s had the kind of time Reece has. He should’ve had you there.”

  “Well now, Mac, I don’t know why Rick would’ve thought to call me. I’m a family doctor, not a psychiatrist.”

  “Should’ve had you there,” Mac said, setting his jaw. “And second, from what she said in my place, she’s saying it wasn’t the woman she saw. Now, Doc, it damn near has to be, doesn’t it? This isn’t New York City or whatnot. We don’t get people murdered right and left in these parts.”