“She cheated,” Walker said. “Otherwise, I would have won.”
“No way, man,” Nick said. He was actually smiling. “How do you cheat at Go Karts? You came in last. Loser.”
“What’s next?” Walker asked. “You guys want to play miniature golf or video games?”
“Games!” Tommy yelled.
“Yeah, me, too,” Nick said.
Walker shoved a twenty into the change machine, then handed Nick the tokens that gushed out. “Here you go. Your mom and I are going to play miniature golf.”
“Nick, keep an eye on Tommy,” she couldn’t stop herself from saying. “And neither of you leave the arcade.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Nick said, scanning the machines for his favorite. “See ya.”
As Walker led her outside into the cool spring air, she glanced over her shoulder. Both boys were standing in front of game consoles, ignoring them completely.
There were very few people at the amusement center—on a Monday night in April, there weren’t many tourists in Door County. The miniature-golf area was deserted. A bored teen handed them putters, and they stepped onto the empty course.
“You recovered yet?” Walker asked.
“I may eventually get my hearing back,” she said. “And my rear end probably won’t be numb for much longer.”
“Want me to massage it for you?” He slid his arm around her waist and let his hand drift toward her hip. She batted it away.
“These are the only games I’m playing tonight.”
He grinned and grabbed a couple of balls from the bin. “You want orange or green?”
“What are you doing, Walker?” she asked quietly.
He turned to face her, then dropped the golf balls back into the bin. “Having fun. I hope you and Nick and Tommy are, too.”
“Of course we are.” She nodded at the Go Kart track. “What’s not to like? Go Kart racing? An almost unlimited supply of tokens for the video arcade? They’re in heaven.”
“What about you?”
“I love watching my sons having fun. Being happy. Not arguing. I’m in heaven, too,” she said lightly.
“But…?”
She set the golf club against the rail and stared at him, waiting.
“Sometimes a game is just a game.” He looked at the giant blue-and-red Aladdin’s head over one hole, the faded wooden water wheel over the next, and she saw wistfulness in his expression. Longing. “It caught my eye as we drove past. It looked like the kind of place high-school kids would hang out.”
And he’d never done this as a teen. “You didn’t have a lot of fun in high school, did you?”
He swung the golf club back and forth. “No. I thought there was one time when I did. But I was mistaken.”
She should be used to it by now—the body slam of guilt. Regret. “As much as I’d like to, I can’t change the past.” She shoved her golf club back in the bin. “This was a mistake.”
“I’m not asking you to change the past. The future? Maybe.”
“They can’t be untangled,” she said wearily. “What happened back then affects everything.”
“Does it?” He touched her cheek and let his hand drift to her neck.
Her mouth went dry. Stupid to be stirred up when it was part of his game. His revenge. She started to push him away, but his hand slid around to her nape and he pulled her closer. He drew them to the shadows next to the Eiffel Tower standing over the third hole.
“I think you made a wrong turn,” she managed to say.
“The guys in gym class used to talk about making out here.” Their bodies were almost touching. His hands drifted over her back and tucked her against him, and a lovely heat swirled inside her. “No one can see us.”
“I knew you had a plan.”
“What could be more romantic than making out at the Eiffel Tower?” He bent and kissed a spot just below her ear that made her shiver. “I want you.” He moved his mouth lower, and she trembled. “I think you want me. It’s not complicated.”
It was complicated as hell. They weren’t two people who’d just met and were having a vacation fling. Even without the issue of Nick, there was too much history between them. Too much betrayal. Too much pain.
How could he ignore that? How could she?
“A kiss won’t hurt,” he whispered in her ear. Then he gently suckled her earlobe, and she shuddered. Desire rose like a tide inside her, swamping everything—her reason, her will, her self-preservation. She wanted nothing but his hands on her. And hers on him.
She turned her head to find his mouth, and wound her arms around his neck. As he kissed her, he drew her deeper into the shadows, turning her so that she was almost completely hidden beneath the low branches of a maple tree. One of the paddle-shaped seeds fluttered down and skimmed over her face, and he brushed it away.
His fingers trailed down her cheek and onto her neck, and he followed it with his mouth. He unzipped her sweater and pushed it to the side, then nibbled on her collarbone. He’d barely touched her, but she was burning up.
Yanking his shirt from the waistband of his jeans, she smoothed her hands over his abdomen, lingering when his muscles jumped beneath her fingers. His skin was hot, and he trembled when she stroked the coarse hair on his chest.
“You’re making me crazy, Jen,” he groaned. “I want to rip your clothes off and make love to you right here.” He backed her up until her legs bumped against the wooden rail of the fence, and fumbled with the snap of her jeans.
The last time he’d done that it hadn’t been about desire or even lust. It had been about power and control. The memory was like a splash of cold water, and she found the strength to step away from him.
“That’s a lot more than a kiss.”
He reached for her again. “I didn’t say where I was going to kiss you.”
His fingers slid into her waistband, and the backs of his knuckles brushed against the sensitive skin of her lower abdomen. Need, dark and potent, overwhelmed her reason.
With a supreme effort, she moved out of his reach. “You’re way too fast for me, Walker.” She’d slept with only two men in her life—never in such a public place—and sex with Tony had been practically nonexistent in the last two years of their marriage. That was the only reason she was reacting so strongly to Walker. “Let’s get the boys and go home. This is a school night.”
His face was in shadow, but his gaze burned through her.
“Yeah. You’re right. This isn’t the time or place.” He trailed one knuckle down her cheek, then took her hand, leading her into the lights. “Just like last time.”
His hand was shaking in hers.
“Although,” he said, “that didn’t seem to stand in your way back then.”
AS THEY DROVE THROUGH the darkness, the boys chattered about the video games they’d played. Walker knew every one of them, and he, Nick and Tommy exchanged strategies for winning. They sounded like a family after an evening out, she thought uneasily.
Except Jen knew better. Was that what he was trying to do? Show her how they could’ve been a family? If she hadn’t manipulated him, used him then forgotten about him.
“How did you and Mom do at miniature golf?” Tommy asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“Not so great,” Walker replied. “I don’t think that’s my game.”
“Miniature golf is stupid,” Nick said.
“I think I agree with you,” Walker said, looking straight at her.
Before she could say anything, he glanced over his shoulder. “Hey, Nick, I need to fine-tune more of the programming for Sorceress tomorrow. Will you have time after school?”
“Yeah! That’s great! I mean, sure. I can work tomorrow.”
“Good. Three-thirty at your house okay?”
“That’s okay, right, Mom?”
“Of course.” She managed to keep her voice light. Impersonal.
Walker Barnes was even more dangerous than she’d thought.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
It had been a long time since he’d taken the time to seduce a woman. A long time since he’d needed to. Jen certainly wasn’t awed by his money. He smiled to himself. Far from it. She’d insisted on paying her share of the pizza the other night.
“You look pleased with yourself.”
It was the drummer from the band. Walker straightened. She was a friend of Jen’s. He’d seen the two women talking.
“I’m Delaney.” She slid onto the stool next to him.
“Yes, I remember you from the receiving line at Quinn’s wedding. Walker Barnes. Any reason I shouldn’t be happy?”
Quinn set a tall glass of something clear in front of her, and Delaney smiled in thanks. She took a drink, then wiped a trickle of sweat from her temple. Her short blond hair was plastered against her forehead, and the T-shirt she wore had dark sweat stains on it.
She leaned one elbow on the bar as she studied him. “Depends. What are you up to with Jen?”
“Are you always this suspicious?”
“Yep.” Her straw made a sucking sound as she drained the glass.
“I’m holding my breath, waiting for her to walk out that door and dazzle me. I can barely contain my excitement.” He finished his Leinie and set the glass down.
She frowned. “You mess with her and you mess with all of us,” she said. “I want to make sure you know that.”
“Got it. Hurt Jen and the skinny drummer will beat me up.”
“You’ve got that right, pal,” she said. “Just wanted to be clear.”
“Clear as your drink,” he assured her.
Would any of his friends protect him like that? Stand in front of anyone who might hurt him?
Kirit, maybe. They’d been tight for a long time, although their relationship was mostly business now. Walker couldn’t think of anyone else.
He suspected that everyone in the pub would jump to Jen’s defense.
“You looking out for her, too?” Walker nodded at a blonde who was talking to one of the guitarists, who looked agitated. “Maybe you ought to go talk to your buddy in the band.”
Delaney glanced at the couple, then rolled her eyes. “Paul and Laura are a couple of dumb-asses who have to work things out themselves. They’re on their own.”
“At least I’m not a dumb-ass,” Walker said lightly.
Delaney narrowed her gaze as she pushed off the stool. “I hope not, Barnes.”
As he watched her ease her way through the crowd, Quinn appeared on the other side of the bar. “You waiting for Jen?”
“Why? Are you going to warn me off, too?”
“What are you talking about?”
Walker nodded at Delaney, who was chatting with Maddie. “She threatened to kick my ass.”
Quinn laughed. “That’s our Delaney. The adrenaline gets going when she’s playing. She needs an outlet.”
He was an outlet? Walker smiled reluctantly.
The lights went off in the kitchen. Taking out his wallet, he threw several bills on the bar and stood. “That’s my cue. Talk to you later, Quinn.”
Jen emerged through the swinging door, and stopped at the edge of the crowd. Her ponytail was a little ragged, with wisps of hair curling around her face. Her T-shirt was wrinkled from her apron, and her jeans sat low on her hips.
She scanned the pub and stilled when she saw him watching. Their eyes met.
JEN WATCHED WALKER heading toward her. She’d tried not to look for him. Promised herself she wouldn’t. But she had, and now she needed to get out of here. How could she be looking forward to seeing him? Anticipating more of those devastating kisses? He was a reminder of all the hateful, ugly parts of herself she’d tried to leave behind.
Blindly, Jen shoved her way out of the pub, her heart racing, her chest tight. She leaned against the rough wooden siding and sucked in a deep breath of the cold, clean air and tried to calm herself. She wasn’t that person anymore. She’d changed.
But she couldn’t focus on that when Walker was around. He was a reminder of everything she wanted to forget about herself.
She began walking toward her parents’ house.
The pub door opened and footsteps echoed behind her. She knew who it was.
“Go away.”
“Why should I?” Walker said. She could hear him coming closer.
“I don’t want you to walk me home.”
“Why not?”
“Because you remind me of the worst part of my life.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, carried away by the wind.
“Bad memories can be replaced,” he said. He’d heard her. “Let’s make new ones.”
“Don’t you get it? We can never get beyond the past. What I did to you.” She walked faster, but he kept up with her easily. “Why would you even want to?”
“Give me a little credit, Jen. I know people change. We’re not stuck with the teenage version of ourselves.”
The door of the Harp opened again, then closed with a thump. Walker glanced over her shoulder and steered her away from the bar.
“People do change.” She hoped she had. “But sometimes, the past can’t be left behind.”
As they walked down the deserted street toward her house, the footsteps behind them sounded louder. As if the people were catching up. The sidewalk was lined with shops, but everything was closed. His arm tightened, and he abruptly shoved her around a corner.
He stood in front of her and tensed as footsteps neared the corner. The two figures, still in deep shadows, stopped abruptly when they saw him.
“Did you want something?” Walker asked in a neutral voice.
“We want to talk to her,” the man said.
Jen stepped out of the doorway. “Rusty? Lauralee? What’s going on?”
Rusty Melton was shorter than Walker, but bulging with muscles. His shaved head gleamed in the streetlight, and dark tattoos ran down both arms. Lauralee was even shorter and wore a tight skirt and a low-cut blouse.
Rusty stared at Jen, flexing his fists, clearly enraged. She tensed, ready to run. Walker stepped in front of her again.
“Out of my way, pretty boy,” Rusty said. “Our business is with her.”
“These are the Meltons,” Jen told Walker. “Stevie’s parents.”
Rusty flexed his fist, and Lauralee crossed her arms over her chest.
“Why did you follow us, Rusty?”
“You sent the cops to our house,” he said, and Walker tensed beside her. Rusty spat on the sidewalk. “I’ve seen that boy of yours sniffing around Stevie.”
“You’re putting your children in danger. You should be ashamed of yourself,” she told him.
“That’s none of your business.”
“Someone has to care about them.”
Walker put his hand on her shoulder, and she could feel him struggling to control himself.
“You think I don’t care about my kids?”
“Sure doesn’t look like it, Rusty.” She glanced at the woman. “What are you thinking, Lauralee?”
“I do right by my kids,” the woman said. “Nobody can say otherwise.”
“I’m saying otherwise.”
Rusty lunged for her, and Walker stepped in front of her, saying, “You have to go through me first.”
“I’m calling the police, Walker,” Jen said.
She tried to pull Walker back, but he shook her off. “Good idea.” He watched Rusty steadily.
“You think you can take me?” The burly man raised what looked like a switchblade and extended it toward Walker, but before he could release the blade, Walker kicked it out of his hand. It flew into the street and skidded halfway across. With shaking fingers, Jen punched in 911.
“What the hell?” Rusty started for the
knife, then swung around to face Walker, his eyes bright with rage. He cocked his arm back and let his fist fly.
Walker dodged him easily and kicked him in the gut. The man bent over with a grunt, and Walker chopped his hand against the side of Rusty’s neck. The drug dealer collapsed on the sidewalk, unmoving.
“You killed him,” Lauralee shrieked, leaping at Walker, her fingers curled into claws. She gouged his face before he managed to grab her arms, then hold them tightly as she thrashed.
“Stop it,” Walker said, shaking her. “Settle down.”
By the time the cops arrived, Rusty was on his hands and knees, retching in the gutter. The officers handcuffed a screaming, cursing Lauralee and put her into one of the squad cars. As they yanked her husband to his feet and handcuffed him, Walker and Jen explained what had happened.
Jen pulled a tissue from the pack in her purse and pressed it to the scratch on Walker’s face. He told Brady Miller about the knife and kicking it into the street. Lauralee alternately cried and swore, while Rusty hurled threats at both of them.
“Your kids home alone, Melton?” Brady said to Rusty. When he answered with a curse, Brady looked at Jen and Walker. “We’ll call county Child Protective Services.”
“Tell them the kids can stay at my parents’ for tonight,” Jen said.
She waited until Pete Meyer put Rusty into the other squad car, then pointed out the knife. The police officer slipped on latex gloves and picked it up gingerly. “Been a long time since I saw one of those. They’re illegal.”
When the two police cars finally drove off, Walker pulled her against him. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly.
“I don’t believe that happened,” she said into his chest. “People don’t get mugged in Otter Tail.”
“God. What if you’d been alone?” He buried his face in her neck. “I wanted to kill him.”
“They just wanted to scare me.” She tried to sound confident, but her voice wobbled.
He cupped her face in his hands. “You really believe that?”
“I don’t know,” she said, closing her eyes and burrowing closer. Rusty had looked as if he did want to hurt her. As if he looked forward to it.
“You shouldn’t walk home from work anymore.”
Can't Stand the Heat? Page 11
