“This is a disaster,” Lauren wailed on the other end. “Scott and Chad are stuck on I-575. Traffic is snarled and it’s going to be hours before the police sort it out.”
What was it with Atlanta drivers when it rained? They lost their minds. The errant thought chased through Goldie’s mind as she wrapped her arms around herself. Now that she’d stopped moving, she was freezing in her wet clothes.
Goldie tried to keep her teeth from chattering as she mustered a cheerful tone to soothe Lauren. “It isn’t exactly a disaster. They weren’t hurt. I’m not hurt. All’s well enough. I’ll just hike back down to my car and—”
“You haven’t heard?”
She didn’t know what it was, but from Lauren’s tone, it didn’t sound good. “Heard what?”
“Your area is under a tornado watch.”
Her control slipped and her teeth did chatter. “Tornado?”
“Well, it’s a watch, not a warning. A warning is when…”
Goldie zoned out, struggling to tamp back rising hysteria. Frogs, lizards, toads, snakes, spiders…all those things that terrified many females didn’t faze her. Tornados, however, struck a deep and abiding fear into her otherwise intrepid heart. Well, that and psychopaths. Fortunately, she’d yet to encounter a psychopath, or a tornado for that matter, and she’d like to keep it that way.
“…you should be fine if you do that.”
Goldie was lost. “Do what?”
“Stay at the cabin until the storm passes and the flash-flood warnings subside.”
“Flash-flood warnings?”
“Your phone must’ve cut out when I was giving you the weather update. There are tornado and flash-flood warnings for the area you’re in. Look, there’s not a prayer Scott and Chad are going to make it up there tonight. And Maisie Watts, the local woman who comes in and cleans and stocks the cabin before the guys use it, was there this morning. There are clean sheets and food inside. You might as well make use of it. Do you see the bag of checkers sitting on the checker table on the porch?” Sure enough, to Goldie’s left, between two rocking chairs, was a table with a checker top and a worn leather draw bag sitting on the table’s corner.
“I see it.”
“Dump out the checkers and there’s a key to the front door in the bottom of the bag. Let yourself in and just stay there tonight. Heck, you could even stay for the weekend, if you wanted. Chad’s going to waste half of his day tomorrow picking up a rental car and dealing with his insurance company.”
“You’re sure they wouldn’t mind?”
“I’m sure. Besides, since they won’t get up there this weekend, the food will just go to waste. There’s no sense in that.”
Goldie was cold—freezing, come to think of it—wet and kind of terrified at the notion of getting sucked up in a funnel cloud or drowning in a flash flood. Making herself at home in someone else’s place had never appealed to her, but it sounded pretty darn good about now.
“Hold on,” Goldie said, putting the phone on the rail.
She spilled the checkers onto the table and fished out the key in the waning light. Her fingers were so cold, it was difficult to hold on to the metal. She picked the phone back up. “Got it. I’m going in.”
JAKE MALONE HELD HIS cell phone against one ear as he paid for a cup of coffee at New York’s bustling LaGuardia airport. He filled Chad in. “That’s right. Even though my meeting with Wayne Tatum got bumped because of food poisoning, his secretary placed the order for me.” He sidestepped a woman pushing a stroller and dragging a screaming toddler along. Hopefully he wouldn’t be sitting next to them on his flight back to Atlanta. “He was impressed with what I had to say over dinner last night. I talked briefly about our quality control and our pricing structure. His secretary said I was gracious about the meeting being cancelled, and that held a lot of sway with Wayne.”
“Good deal,” Chad said. “That’ll have a nice effect on our fourth quarter P&L.”
Jake was pleased. It had taken some time for him, as the perpetually little brother, to find his place, his way in the family pecking order and the family business. But he was damn good at what he did—sales. That wasn’t arrogance, that was simply surety in his own sense of self. He’d finally realized he was good at figuring out what made people tick and that went a long way in bolstering his career. Work and the bottom line made Chad tick.
“Yep, I thought it was a nice wrap to what looked like a lost trip.” He’d figured the flight up to New York had been a write-off when Tatum had gotten sick. And then to add insult to injury, Jake’s last-minute flight out of LaGuardia had been cancelled, which meant he had a couple of hours to kill in the airport.
“At least one of us got something accomplished today,” Chad said. “Scott and I got caught in a pileup on I-575 on our way to the cabin.”
Jake swore. “How’s the car?” Obviously both Scott and Chad were fine or Chad would’ve mentioned otherwise.
“It needs some work. Hopefully the insurance company won’t write it off. But it meant cancelling our meeting with Goldie Dawkins.”
Simply hearing her name, Jake tensed. He usually knew when she was going to be in the office and he made sure he wasn’t around. It was best not to put himself in the path of a woman who made no bones about wanting a ring on her finger. Funny, she was one of the few people he didn’t have a handle on, which might explain why it took a fair amount of willpower on his part to avoid her. But avoid her he did—like the plague. “I didn’t know you two were meeting with her.”
“Yeah, we were supposed to go over focus group results late this afternoon. It was going to be a working weekend.”
“She was spending the whole weekend with you there?” The thought of Chad and Goldie spending that much time at the cabin slammed into him like a fist in the gut. Jake might not want to date a marriage-minded woman, but he damn sure didn’t like the idea of Chad being with her.
“No. She was just dropping by for the meeting.” A sharp note of warning entered Chad’s voice. “I never mix business and pleasure.”
Which would explain why Chad seldom dated. Jake’s big brother was all about business—including minding his two younger brothers’ business, apparently. But Chad could save the slightly admonishing warning as far as Jake was concerned. Goldie Dawkins could show up naked in front of him—which he was pretty damn sure would be stimulating—and he’d still turn around and walk away. The very thought of matrimony made him shudder.
When had he actually taken a vow of bachelorhood? Damned if he could remember the exact time. It was something that had just sort of developed over the years as he witnessed the fights and arguments between two people who should never have married but stayed together “for the kids”—his parents. God knows “the kids” were old enough now, so he could only surmise that his parents stayed miserable together out of habit. At this juncture, it didn’t matter. Jake knew without any measure of doubt that he never wanted to enter the esteemed battleground commonly known as marriage. He liked women, respected them. He wasn’t a player. He was a great boyfriend, but he was straight-up about his intentions with any woman he ever dated. And since it was a husband Goldie Dawkins wanted, he didn’t give a damn how attracted to her he was—and he was, to the point that once or twice he’d been tempted to forget his rule and ask her out, but sanity and good sense had always prevailed—he’d stayed away.
Regardless, Jake felt something perilously close to relief that Chad and Goldie hadn’t planned a cozy weekend at the cabin. “Are you going to try to get up there tomorrow?”
“No. I ditched the idea altogether, especially since there are flash-flood warnings. It doesn’t make sense to take a rental through there.” The cabin’s remoteness had been part of the appeal when Jake, Chad and Scott had decided to go in together and buy the place. The north Georgia mountains had become increasingly popular for cabin rentals and weekend getaways. Some areas were damn near as crowded as Altanta’s suburbs, but Hawk’s Nest was one of the few
places where you could truly escape. “You’re not thinking about heading up, are you?”
“I wasn’t, but maybe I should,” Jake said. “Did Maisie stock the place?” Since he’d planned to be in New York until Saturday morning, he hadn’t made any other plans.
“She stocked it and cleaned, but the creeks might be tricky.”
The more Jake thought about it, the better a relaxing weekend up in mountains sounded. “Hey, tricky means fun. That’s why I have a four-wheel drive.” His Toyota FJ Cruiser was mostly wasted in the city. Crossing a swollen Rotter’s Creek, however, was what it was made for.
“Go for it, then,” Chad said, distraction evident in his voice. No doubt he was reading through some report or another.
“See you,” Jake said, ending the call.
He checked the clock on his phone. Perfect. By the time his flight got into the city, rush hour would be over. With a bit of luck, he should be there early in the evening.
A little R&R alone at Hawk’s Nest was just what he needed.
2
ONE PUSH AND THE DARK green door opened on well-oiled hinges. Goldie was about to step inside when she realized she was puddling water all over the front mat.
Lauren might tell her the Malones wouldn’t care if she stayed there, but she’d rather not trek water through the place. She made quick work of wringing out her hair and stripping out of her sopping wet clothes. Gooseflesh prick-led her skin as she left the clothes heaped on the porch and stepped naked into the cabin. She closed the door behind her, shutting out the driving rain that noisily pinged against the dwelling’s tin roof.
A quick glance revealed the cabin’s layout. Kitchen to the left, with an opening facing the great room and fireplace. To the right, a short hallway led to what were probably the bedrooms.
The wooden floors were scattered with rugs and the walls and ceiling were paneled with knotty pine. In the corner, a large stone fireplace with a flat-screen TV mounted above it beckoned while three recliners tempted her to make herself at home.
Goldie headed straight to the hallway, her breasts bouncing along without the support of her bra, her nipples tight and hard from the chill of the rain.
The bathroom door stood open. The room was nothing fancy, but the white tile floor was clean, as was the sink and toilet.
She opened the narrow door that had to be a linen closet. She pulled out a thick, white, oversize bath sheet and wrapped it around her sarong-wise. Taking another towel, she wrapped it around her shoulders like a shawl. Finally the gooseflesh prickling her skin began to dissipate. She stepped over to the tub and began filling it with warm water.
Outside, a crash of thunder shook the whole cabin and she was pretty sure the clatter against the tin roof was hail. Hail wasn’t a good sign. Hail meant tornadoes.
She hurried back to the den and grabbed the TV remote. Okay, Weather Channel…Weather Channel… Come on, where was the flipping Weather Channel…ah, there it was. An update ran across the bottom of the screen, listing all the counties under a tornado watch. Hallelujah. Her area was only slated for thunderstorms.
She relaxed a bit, but the truth of the matter was her nerves were shot. Between the hike, the cancelled meeting, getting drenched and the tornado threat, she was ready to jump out of her skin. Lauren had told her to make herself at home—well, if she hadn’t used those exact words, the implication had been there. Although she wasn’t much of a drinker, Goldie sure needed a drink now. She ducked back into the bathroom to check the tub. It was almost full. She turned off the water and made her way to the kitchen.
Opening the refrigerator, she smiled. The Malone brothers might run a winery, but they obviously preferred beer. And not even the fancy stuff at that.
Without blinking twice, she snagged one. She’d replace it. She turned and hesitated. What the heck? She grabbed another can.
A brew in each hand, she retraced her steps to the bathroom. Placing the brews on the side of the tub, she shed the towels, stepped in and sank into the enveloping warmth of the water. Ah…heavenly bliss. Even though it was May, the rain had been cold and she was chilled to the bone. Closing her eyes, she slid down until immersed completely, except for her knees, letting her hair float around her head like seaweed.
How many times had she done this very thing as a child, pretending she was a mermaid? More than she could count. And color her a romantic, she still believed in magic and fairy-tale endings.
She lifted her head from the water and settled against the back of the tub, wiping water from her eyes. Goldie popped the top and took a long pull from the can. The cold beer offered a nice contrast to the warm bath. If the weather shifted and a tornado came along and transported her to some farmer’s field in the valley, she might as well have a little buzz going and be clean when she died.
Eager to forget about the storm outside, she distracted herself with thoughts of the Malone brothers. Actually, there was something rather decadent about sitting naked in their tub without their knowledge.
She took another swig of her beer and propped her feet on the other end of the tub. Given a choice, which brother did she wish was in the bath with her now? Definitely not all three. Her college friend, Lissa, had been into the whole ménage scene, but it had never appealed to Goldie. Goldie wanted her men one at a time. So…hmm…which one?
Chad? A woman could rely on Chad. She closed her eyes and imagined him behind her, his chest pillowing her back, his thighs cradling her buttocks. Unfortunately, the immediate thought that chased that scenario was him instructing her on how to sit so they could accomplish their bath as efficiently as possible. She winced. She found it highly probable the workaholic Chadster would approach making love as a task to be accomplished before moving on to the next item on his To-Do list.
She shook her head and took another long swallow. She’d better drink fast because she only liked beer cold.
Brother number two, then. Nice, safe Scott with his sandy blond hair and green eyes. He was a little on the short side but he was so powerfully built, it more than compensated. She envisioned Scott sitting opposite her. Unbidden, in her mind’s eye, she saw him reach over the side of the tub and grab a stopwatch while he announced he was timing them to see if he could beat his last time. That made her laugh. Once again, as with Chad, she probably wasn’t too far off the mark.
Which left the notion of dangerously handsome Jake climbing in with her. It was an equal mix of desperation and reckless abandon that led her to pop the second can and polish off almost half of it in one swallow. Jake had spelled trouble for her from the moment she’d met him.
Jake. He was tall, but not as tall and beefy as Chad, and not as vertically challenged as Scott. She estimated Jake to be around six feet with nice broad shoulders that narrowed to a trim waist and yes, his ass appeared to be tight. What the heck? She was female and breathing, so she’d noticed once, or twice, or maybe every darn time she happened to walk behind him in the hallway. Dark brown hair and olive-tinted skin. But it was his eyes that did her in. Those eyes of his were so inky black it was impossible to tell the demarcation between pupil and iris.
But even outside the very nice physical attributes—and make no doubt about it, they were nice—Jake aroused something inside her that made her want to abandon her resolve, her goals and take a walk on the wild side. And that was just plain stupid considering she’d grown up with a mother who’d done just that. So, she steadfastly avoided Jake in the flesh…but after two beers and a warm bubble bath in his remote cabin, she decided there was no need to avoid Jake in her imagination. What the heck? Why not take a mental walk on the wild side with the man she wanted most but couldn’t have?
She lathered up the washcloth and rubbed it over her shoulders and the top of her back, the soap’s scent faintly reminiscent of Jake. It was as if his smell was imprinted on her skin, marking her as his, which was totally fanciful. They’d never even exchanged more than a few words. Nonetheless, that’s what it was like.
Ey
es closed, she slid down until the warm water lapped the same path she’d soaped. She could almost feel the sensation of his hair-roughened chest against her back, the press of his fingertips against her shoulders, the whisper of his warm breath against her neck. She sighed, sliding deeper into the water and her fantasy.
The delicious scrape of his beard against her sensitive neck heralded his kiss. Almost nothing felt better than the play of his lips along her neck, across her shoulder. He cupped her jaw in his hand and turned her head until his mouth claimed hers, his other hand sliding beneath the water to cup her breasts, his fingers finding her aching tips.
Arousal overwhelmed her as his hand slid farther down her nakedness, over the slight curve of her belly and the rounded line of her hip, only to trace back along her inner thigh to the spot that quivered in anticipation of his touch.
He explored her, stroked her, teased her until their mingled breath came in short gasps and she found her release.
She floated in the water for a moment and then blinked her eyes open. The harsh bathroom light jarred her back into reality. She was alone in the tub, which was simultaneously a pity and a relief. It wasn’t the first time she’d imagined making love with Jake Malone. The pity of it was that she was almost certain he’d be better in the flesh than in her imagination. And that was already pretty darn good. The relief was it was much wiser and much safer to indulge in fantasy than in flesh when it came to the commitment-phobic Jake.
That thought left her feeling slightly disconcerted, rather than satisfied. Goldie finished her bath and dried off in record time.
She could walk around naked or she could borrow a shirt until she could wash and dry her clothes that were currently piled on the front porch. Hanging the towel on the rack, she made an executive decision to borrow. Still, she was determined not to be a needy nutcase and make a beeline for Jake’s clothes.
Leslie Kelly, Jennifer LaBrecque Page 12
