by Beth Ciotta
Her entire body thrummed. “You sound awfully sure of yourself. And me.”
He grinned then rolled out of bed and padded across the room buck-naked. “Are you staring at my ass?”
His oh-so-fine gluteus maximus gave new meaning to buns-of-steel. She crooked her own grin. “Uh, huh.”
He cast her a look that kick-started that promised orgasm. “As soon as I find the mouser, I’m booting him outside. Meet me in the shower.”
“I might have to start without you,” Bella blurted. Good Lord. He did bring out the bad in her.
“I wouldn’t mind walking in on that,” he said with a devilish wink and then he was gone.
* * *
Joe promised himself that the next time he made love to Bella it would be a leisurely marathon. Not that he didn’t enjoy a quickie, but they’d rushed twice now. Not that she’d complained. According to Bella, once again, Joe had set her world on fire, even though they’d been in the shower.
He’d delivered, true to his word, getting off on the explosive way her body responded to his touch. He’d never lacked confidence pleasuring women and was always rewarded in kind, but sex with Bella surpassed his vast and varied experiences. He assumed it was because he loved her. And because he loved her, he wanted to be honest about what he could offer. It wasn’t the kind of fairy tale relationship she probably had in mind. For one, he didn’t want children. His reasons were many. If she understood even one, would it make a difference? Would she be willing to invest in their relationship knowing it would always be just the two of them? Would she be willing to live with his demons, because, damn, as much as Bella brightened his life, the darkness lurked.
She’d been living in his house for one day and he knew he wanted her there forever. Since everything was moving at lightning speed, he had to step up his game. She deserved to know what she was getting into before she got in too deep. What he could share about his past was limited, but it affected her future so he had to find a way to navigate that minefield.
Joe sat on the porch swing, sipping his coffee, contemplating a plan. Killer—who’d made it through the night accident-free—was curled against his thigh. Bella had promised to join them after she dried her hair and dressed. He’d offered to make her breakfast but she confessed to being a donut and coffee kind-of-gal who usually grabbed something quick-to-go from the bakery.
Joe didn’t have any donuts, so he’d made her a piece of toast and slathered it with apple butter. He knew from last night at the Caboose that she liked her coffee white and sweet. He offered her both when she blew out the door and onto the porch.
She looked cute as hell in her official library attire—tan capris, bright blue polo, and one of those genie-like ponytails. The blue gym shoes with the purple laces and glittery flowers were less conventional and wholly Bella. She blinked at the foil-wrapped toast and plastic travel mug. “That was really kind. Thank you.” She smiled. “As it happens, Angel’s running late. I have fifteen minutes grace.”
He thought back on Bella’s slick, soapy curves. “Wish I’d known that earlier.”
“I’m still wobbly from the time we had,” she said, blues eyes dancing. “Not sure I’d survive a full half hour.”
“You’d survive.” Focused on her beautiful face, Joe followed his heart. “Can you walk and eat?”
“Actually, I’d rather save this for later.” She tucked the toast into her bag and swung it around so the bulk rested on her hip. Travel mug in hand, she raised her brows. “Where to?”
“Funland.”
“Okay.” She looked suspicious, but she didn’t balk. She sipped her coffee then nodded. “Lead the way.”
Knowing she was strapped for time, Joe walked at a quick clip, holding Bella’s left elbow as they made their way across the manicured lawn. The grass was slick with last night’s rain. A few tree limbs littered the ground as well as scattered leaves—casualties of the strong winds. No major damage, not within the close confines of the private yard. But the closer they got to Funland, the more visible the effects of the most recent storm compounded by the damage of every storm in the last five years. That’s the last time the park had been open to the public. The last time Mike had tried to fix or maintain the buildings or rides. After years of misfortune, his savings and health had taken a lethal hit.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been this close to Funland,” Bella said as they neared the splintered fence that surrounded the actual park. She pointed up. “That doesn’t look good.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Joe said.
Since the rides were geared toward smaller kids, the tallest attraction was the western-themed ferris wheel. The top three cabs were visible over the fence and one of those cabs was hanging loose from the spoke.
“I would have noticed that before,” Joe said. “Must’ve happened last night.”
“We get severe storms like that all the time, especially in the summer. We’re nearing the tail end of tornado season. May’s bad. June’s worse. July…” She shrugged. “They happen. You don’t have to take a direct hit to sustain major damage. The one that touched down five years ago, a few miles from here, took out a lot of the original festive walls. Mike enlisted friends and neighbors to erect cheap temporary fencing, which is what you see here, but the battered rides and buildings…” She sighed. “This old park has been through a lot.”
Joe muscled open the main gate.
Bella sipped coffee and squared her shoulders as if bracing for the carnage.
Together, they slipped inside.
“Yikes,” she said.
“Yeah,” Joe said. “Although it looks better now than it did a week ago. I surveyed the property—in full—when I first moved in, verifying what I’d inherited. Funland looked worse then. A lot of loose debris. I dragged all that out. But, as your dad mentioned, the grounds resembled a jungle.” Hands on hips, Joe skimmed the newly mown and weeded interior. “He did a great job. Definitely has the chops for that landscaping business.”
“Mmm.” Bella turned quiet as she surveyed the ruin.
“I was here once,” Joe went on. “In the park’s heyday. I was eight and it was the only time we went on a real family vacation. Family meaning my mom, dad, and me. I’m an only kid.”
“Me, too,” Bella said.
“But your mom and dad were a great couple. Loved one another. Loved you. You lived in one house all your life. Surrounded by the same friends and extended family. It wasn’t like that for me. My dad was a mean bastard who couldn’t hold a job. A man of addictions—gambling, drinking. He had an explosive temper. Lashed out a lot at my mom. Me.”
Bella touched his arm. “I’m sorry.”
“It was what it was. Lots of kids have it worse.” Joe tempered the familiar resentment burning through his blood. He wasn’t looking for sympathy. He wanted to give her a glimpse of the darkness within. The events that had shaped him. “We got kicked out of more houses…lived in more towns than you can count on both hands. All in all my childhood sucked. Except that one summer.”
“The summer you were here.”
“Two glorious weeks. We stayed with Mike. My mom claimed she was allergic to the surrounding fields. Planted her ass on his sofa. Watched soap operas. Read tabloids. When we lived in the city, she was allergic to exhaust fumes. While we were in Nowhere, my dad spent most of the week bouncing from bar to bar. Which is what he did in every town we passed through. Which meant I spent most of that vacation with Mike and Mike spent most of his time—”
“In Funland.” Bella gestured from the Cowboy Carousel to the Shoot ’Em Up Gallery. “Bet he gave you an unlimited supply of tickets for the games and rides.”
“And the food stands. Surprised I didn’t OD on cotton candy and caramel apples.”
“Mike was a great guy.”
“Yes, he was. And if I could, if I had the resources and even a tenth of his passion for running a kiddie theme park, I’d renovate Rootin’ Tootin’ Funland in his honor. But I don
’t.”
“I understand.”
Joe swung around to face her. “Do you?”
She licked her lips, nodded. “I think so. It’s not logical. I said it myself. Storms roll through here all the time. You could invest scads of time and money and then a single tornado could blow it all away.”
“There is that.”
“And besides, it was Mike’s dream. Not yours.”
“There’s that, too.”
“So what is your dream? Your grandest dream?”
“As in unattainable?”
“As in…seemingly impossible.”
Impossible Dream.
Joe shifted, an eerie feeling rippling through him somewhat like déjà vu, but not quite. “You’ll think this is crazy.”
She perked up. “No, I won’t.”
Joe stared down at her, soaking in her vibrancy, feeling a semblance of hope. He dragged his hair off his face. “I’m not superstitious, but…it’s kind of like a wish. I’m worried if I vocalize my dream it won’t come true.”
“That makes perfect sense to me.”
Joe smiled. “Of course, it does.”
A horn honked.
“That’s Angel,” Bella said. “I should go or I’ll be late for work.”
“I could’ve driven you in.”
“I know. But I didn’t want to take advantage. This is routine for me and Angel. Although, after today, I won’t be dependent on anyone. Don’t forget. Zeke and Jimbo are delivering my new car this afternoon.”
“You mean your new old car.”
“Who cares? It’s free and it runs!”
“We’ll see about that.”
“You need to look on the bright side,” Bella said.
“I am. I’m looking at you.”
Just as he’d hoped, she moved in and gave him one of those million-dollar hugs.
“We’ll talk more tonight,” she said then rose to her toes for a quick peck.
Joe took advantage, cradling her face and taking the kiss deeper. If he could inhale her essence, he would. So much goodness.
Another blast of the horn had Bella backing away with a sigh and a goofy smile. “Don’t forget the Inseparables are bringing dinner—sub sandwiches and beer. We’ll eat in the studio while cataloguing the rest of the memorabilia.”
First Zeke and Jimbo. Then Angel, Georgie, Chrissy, and Emma. Plus Joe had asked Archie to help him survey Funland this afternoon—ride by ride, board by board. How long before the whole of Nowhere came knocking?
So much for sanctuary.
“You don’t have to worry about helping,” Bella called as she squeezed through the gate. “With the pictures,” she added. “We’ll take care of everything. You focus on your art. Have a great day!”
She was gone then and Joe stood there knowing he’d just been handled. She’d been subtle about it—skating over the task of sorting through those Funland boxes with a take-charge spirit and cheery smile. Making it clear that he needn’t be involved. Sparing him from having to look at photo after photo of smiling, giggling innocence. Innocence that could be forever destroyed by one cruel or evil deed. Photos that reminded him of the children he’d failed to save and of the ones he’d seen suffer.
Except he’d never told Bella about Operation Little Lamb Lost.
She didn’t know about the twenty months he’d spent in hell while trying to bust a sex trafficking ring that preyed on young girls.
Or did she?
“What tortures you?”
He thought about the way he’d found Bella slumped over her desk, exhausted after spending hours on her computer. Had she been using the Internet to dig into his past? As a degreed librarian, her research skills were probably impressive. Joe hadn’t offered many details regarding his life in Chicago, but she knew enough to tap into vague tips. Leads that would take her to news articles touting the results of Operation Little Lamb Lost.
Joe rubbed his hands over his face. If she read those articles she at least had a clue as to what tortured him. The fact that she’d done a one-eighty regarding the restoration of Rootin’ Tootin’ Funland was further proof. There’d been a good dose of sympathy in that affectionate hug.
“Jesus, honey.”
He didn’t know whether to be relieved or angry that she potentially knew his secret. He’d hoped to shelter her. Now she was shielding him. He suddenly felt like the biggest jackass in the world, clinging to the glittery skirts of Princess Rainbow, counting on her to turn back time.
To vanquish the darkness that had seeped into his soul, hardening his heart, and twisting his perspective. To cleanse his conscience.
His impossible dream.
What kind of prick puts that kind of pressure on a woman?
Val wasn’t here to say it so he said it himself. “Grow some balls and stop hiding, Savage.”
His chest ached as he fought to tame the worst of the memories. The worst of his deeds. He focused on something good. Something in his face.
Funland.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Let me get this straight,” Angel said as she peeled her teeny sportser onto Moon Creek Road. “We’re abandoning the Funland project?”
“Yep.”
“We’re not going to try to talk Savage into reopening the park?”
“Nope.”
“Even though it would help to revitalize Nowhere?”
“We’ll think of something else,” Bella said, raising her voice over the roar of the engine and wind as Angel picked up speed. Once again, her friend was driving with the top down. At least Bella had opted for a ponytail, which meant her hair wasn’t blowing in her face. She dug her foil wrapped breakfast from her bag. “Since we’re running late, do you mind if I eat in the car? I’m starving!”
“Of course not. What is that? Toast?”
“With apple butter.” Bella smiled, heart full. “Savage made it for me. The coffee, too.”
“Biker boy made you breakfast?”
“Yep. Want half?”
“Saving myself for a cinnamon bun.” A heartbeat later Angel added, “Been awhile since I’ve seen you so chipper. Guess you two got on okay. As boarders, that is.”
“Oh, we’re more than that.”
“Nooo.” Angel feigned shock then smiled. “Like we didn’t see that coming. I guess Chrissy nailed it when she said we didn’t hear from you because you two spent the night doing it like monkeys.”
“Actually,” Bella said as they whizzed along the two lane stretch, “we just slept together. As in sleeping. In the same bed. Snuggling.”
“No sex?”
“Yesterday afternoon and this morning, but not last night.”
Angel glanced over. “I guess it was pretty great.”
“Amazing.”
“Did you circle Mars?”
“And every other planet in the galaxy.” Bella’s body sizzled just thinking about the way Savage moved inside her, the sensations and emotions he evoked. “To think you had that kind of love connection twice.”
“Mmm.” Frowning, Angel did a double take. “Wait. Did you say love?”
“I love Joe with all my heart, Angel. I love him so much it hurts.”
“How’s he feel about that?”
“He doesn’t know.”
“You didn’t tell him?”
“No.”
“So I have to keep this to myself?”
“I don’t think I knew myself until now. It just slipped out. Forget I said anything.”
Angel groaned. “I’ll add it to the list.”
“What list? Is someone else in love? What did I miss? Wait. It’s gotta be Georgie. She loses her heart at the drop of a hat. Unless…is it you?”
“What? No. Definitely not. Besides he…”
“He who?”
“Forget I said anything.”
“But—”
“This conversation never happened.” Angel flexed her fingers on the steering wheel and stared straight ahead.
Bella nibbled on her toast, sensitive to Angel’s unusually prickly mood. Plus she was speeding. Because they were running late? Or because she was agitated? What just happened and who the heck was the he in question?
A siren sidetracked her musing.
“Uh, oh,” Bella said with her mouth full.
“Where did he come from?” Angel asked while glancing in the rearview mirror.
“I don’t know but you need to pull over.” Bella wiggled around, looking behind them. “Oh, hey. It’s Ryan.”
“I don’t believe this,” Angel grumbled as she edged to the shoulder.
“That’s a good thing. He probably won’t give you a ticket, just a warning. How fast were you going anyway?”
“I don’t know.”
Bella brushed crumbs from her mouth then made sure her seat belt was fastened. She already felt a speeding lecture coming on. No need to compound the issue.
As for Angel, she already looked duly chastised. Her face was beet red. What Bella could see of it anyway. The wind had whipped her long red curls into a tangled catastrophe.
Ryan walked up beside them. As always, his uniform was fresh and pressed, his gun was at his hip and sunglasses shielded his eyes. Today he was sans his signature Stetson. Probably because he’d taken it off in preparation of greeting women. Ryan was old fashioned like that. Even in an official capacity. He looked perfectly perfect. Not a hair out of place. Of course he hadn’t been racing along the highway with the top down. “Ladies.”
“Sheriff McClure,” Angel said, still looking straight ahead.
It wasn’t the use of his official title that surprised Bella. Even though they’d known Ryan all their lives, out of respect they referred to him by title when he was on duty. No, what surprised Bella was that Angel hadn’t lifted a hand to tame her hair. Maybe it was the stylist in her, but Angel had a thing about looking perfect. And why was she staring at the dashboard, instead of smiling at Ryan? Surely she wasn’t that mortified. They’d been pulled over before. Not in a long time, but still.
“Where’s the fire?” Ryan asked.
“We’re late for work,” Bella said.
“Now you’ll be even later.”
