Mr. November

by Lori Foster

  “Why?”

  She blinked at him. “Why what?”

  “Why do you want to use me for the cover?”

  Confusion showed on her beautiful face, then chagrin. She gestured at him, her small, gloved hand flapping the air. “Well…look at you, for heaven’s sake. Out of all the firemen who agreed to take part, you’re by far the most handsome, and you have a fabulous physique.”

  “You noticed, huh?”

  Amanda rolled her eyes. “Because those assets will certainly help sell calendars—which is the whole point—yes I noticed. You’re the obvious choice.”

  Josh drove in silence for a moment, his hands relaxed on the wheel, his thoughts hidden. Only the hissing of tires on wet pavement intruded. That, and her scent.

  Her scent was making him nuts.

  “I’ve got a question for you.” He pulled into the parking lot of a take-out chicken joint. It didn’t look like much, but he knew firsthand how good the food was.

  Amanda looked around in consternation. “We’re eating here?”

  Josh ignored her question to ask one of his own. “If you think I look so good, why in hell do you refuse to get involved with me?” He pulled in to the line for the drive-thru. There were two cars ahead of him, so he braked and turned to face her.

  She had her purse clutched tightly in her lap and that panicked look on her face again. “What are you doing?”

  Because he knew she’d already figured it out, he said gently, “I’m buying some food.”

  Her chest rose and fell with agitated breaths. “For what?” She looked ready to leap from his car.

  Josh reached across the seat and touched her cheek. His heart squeezed tight when she leaned away from him and that awesome fear widened her eyes and drained the color from her face.

  His plan had gone horribly awry, he thought. He didn’t want to tease her, didn’t want to taunt her.

  He just wanted her—sexually, and otherwise.

  “For us to eat,” he admitted, watching her closely, trying to better read her. “At my place—where as I said, it’s nice and quiet and we can talk.”

  It was the last that got her. She jerked around, blindly, wildly reaching for the door handle. She yanked on it, but the door was locked.

  “Amanda…”

  She made a small sound, incoherent except for that damn fear.

  Josh didn’t know what the hell to do. Never in his blighted life had he dealt with a hysterical woman—hysterical because she didn’t want to be with him!

  Luckily, her seat belt restrained her so he didn’t have to chase her through the parking lot.

  Josh kept his tone calm and soothing. “What are you doing? I can take you back to your car if you don’t want to have dinner after all. You don’t have to walk.” He sounded like an ass and hated himself. But she listened. “It’s just that… I’m exhausted after two emergency calls on one shift. I want to relax, not sit in a public place.”

  That sounded plausible to him. Pleased with his excuse—entirely made up—he waited.

  Amanda paused, facing the window, her shoulders hunched. In a small voice, she said, “I don’t see why we need to go to your place.”

  “We don’t.” Minutes ago, he’d have tried insisting, now he just wanted her to relax again. “Hell, we can eat here if you want. Or in the parking lot.”

  She looked at him over her shoulder. “You’re really that tired?”

  Enormous relief washed over him. “Yeah.” He smiled. “You should have seen me in the shower.”

  Her eyes widened and he laughed. “Get those lecherous thoughts out of your mind, woman. I meant because I was so tired, I sat on a chair to shower. All of us did.”

  She shifted around, interested, calmer. The line moved at the same time, and Josh drove forward.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “I told you, exhaustion. We keep these old wooden chairs in the shower for such occasions.” She looked fascinated, and he found himself breaking one of his rules. “After a fire, it’s often like that. The adrenaline fades and you’re left weary down to the bone, filthy with grime and soot.”

  His heart jumped when he felt Amanda touch his arm.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He practically held his breath. Women touched him all the time, damn it, and in more interesting places than his elbow. But her touch…it meant something. And he liked it. “For what?”

  “For acting so foolish. It’s just that sometimes…”

  Josh reached for her hand, laced his fingers with hers. When she didn’t pull away, he felt as if the sun had just come out and shone on his miserable head. “Sometimes you get afraid? You remember something and you find yourself just reacting?”

  She stared at their entwined hands. “Josh, I want to be honest with you, okay?”

  He waited.

  She transferred his hand to both of hers. “I meant what I said.” Her gaze was direct, unflinching. “I know lots of women adore you. I even understand why. But I really, truly, am not interested. I don’t want you to understand me, I don’t need your friendship or your affection. Of course I have…issues. Everyone does. But I like my life the way it is and I have no intention of changing a single thing.” Her gaze implored his understanding. “All I need, all I want, is for you to agree to pose for the calendar.”

  Josh rested back in his seat and studied her. Whatever plagued her, he wouldn’t find out about it tonight. Tactics that usually had women laughing and flirting back only fell flat with her. He needed a new plan, and he needed it now.

  He made a sudden decision. “I’ll do the pose.”

  She released him to clasp her hands together in excitement. Her face lit up. “You will?”

  It was his turn at the drive-thru and he gave her a long look before pulling up to the order window. Despite everything she’d just said, he ordered enough for two.

  After the food was handed to them and safely stored on the floorboards, Josh clarified. “I’ll do the calendar, but I won’t stop wanting you. And I won’t stop trying to change your mind about wanting me.”

  He heard her gasp, but damn it, she couldn’t expect him to just walk away. Not now.

  As he eased back into traffic, he stared out the windshield into the endless black night. “It’s your decision Amanda. If you have me in the calendar, then you’ll have to deal with my courtship.”

  “Courtship, ha!”

  Josh hid his smile. At least now she wasn’t squashed up against the opposite door, doing her best to put a mile between them. She was facing him, talking to him, and he chose to see that as progress. “Make up your mind, okay? You can either walk away now and use one of the other guys to fill up the calendar, or you can learn to deal with me. And understand, sweetheart, I would never force you, and I’d never hurt you.” He took the turn off the main drag to the quieter, emptier street leading toward his place.

  “But I am determined,” he finished saying, “to have my own way.”

  PIGHEADED LOUT.

  Amanda stewed, unsure what to say next. Not only had she made a complete and total fool of herself, behaving like a spooked child, but she hadn’t accomplished a thing with her honest, up-front admission to him. If anything, she was in deeper now that she’d spilled her heart.

  True, Josh had listened. She’d felt his undivided attention. But then he’d disregarded everything she’d said.

  She’d been truthful and so had he and now they were at an impasse. Amanda eyed him in the dark confines of the car and knew what she’d have to do.

  Still, she gave it one more try. “It won’t do you any good, you know.”

  “What? To chase after you? Hey, just call me an optimist.” He smiled, looking so handsome and teasing. “Besides, I’m thinking you might be worth the trouble.”

  “I’m not.”

  “No?” He sounded amused. “How come?”

  “Because you’ll only be wasting your time.”

  “You think you’re that boring, do you?�
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  Tension tightened her fingers on the strap of her purse and made her neck ache. “Josh, I don’t date and I don’t do…anything else.”

  He turned speculative as he asked, “Anything else like kiss or fondle or make love?”

  Closing her eyes only made her more aware of him beside her, a large hard man who exuded energy and heat. He threatened the foundation of her existence. Everything she’d worked so hard for, including emotional peace, had to be kept in the forefront of her mind. She could not let him distract her from her convictions.

  She forced herself to look at him. “I can’t imagine you’d be content to just share a chicken dinner with me every now and again.”

  His big hand patted her knee, startling her. “It’s a start.”

  “It would also be the finish.”

  He retreated physically, but not verbally. “Again I have to ask, Amanda—how come?”

  With no streetlights on the narrower road, the night was black and all she could see of Josh was a faint outline and the glitter of his eyes.

  “That’s none of your business.” The fragrant smell of fried chicken teased her nostrils and Amanda’s stomach rumbled. She was hungry, stressed and still hopeful. “Tonight we can iron out the details and tomorrow I’ll bring a release form by the station. I’ll leave it with the watchman. If you’d get it back to me right away, I’d appreciate it. We’re really pressed for time—behind schedule actually.”

  “Because of me?” He turned down a cul-de-sac with duplex housing.

  “I always try to do what’s best for the project. I know you’ll help sales, so yes, I held things up hoping you’d change your mind.”

  “Hoping you could change my mind.”

  “Yes. Everything’s gone to the printers already, except the cover and the November photo, because those are what I’d like you to do. Once that’s taken care of we can finish printing the first set of calendars and have them bound. They’ll be ready for sale by early November, and we can cash in on some of the Christmas purchases.”

  Josh pulled into the driveway of a modern duplex home. He parked his car in an open garage spot, and with a remote, closed the garage door. “I’m to the left,” he said, explaining which of the homes connected by the spacious two-car garage was his. He turned the headlights off and killed the engine, then turned to face Amanda.

  Being in that closed garage made Amanda feel even more confined. Flustered, she started to open her car door, but Josh’s long fingers closed around her upper arm. Panic, as fresh as it had been earlier, churned inside her.

  What Josh didn’t know, what he couldn’t understand, was that her panic wasn’t inspired by physical fear, but rather emotional. Her body didn’t mind his touch at all, but her heart, her head, knew the danger in allowing him any familiarity at all. Seven years ago she had made a promise to herself, sworn to make reparations in the only way left to her, and she didn’t want anything or anyone to sway her from that course.

  She fought off the drowning emotions, drawing one breath, then two. She’d long ago learned that they came from memories and overwhelming guilt—she’d also learned to control them by isolating herself.

  Josh wouldn’t let her do that.

  He caressed her arm. Through her outer coat, her suit coat and her blouse, his touch was still disturbing. Amanda could detect the seductive strength in his hand, the leashed tenderness that had likely lured so many women.

  Just as it lured her.

  “Even this upsets you, doesn’t it?”

  The overhead garage light, which had come on when he activated the door remote, now flickered off. A blanket of inky darkness fell that was both a comfort for what it concealed, and a threat for what it unleashed. Her voice shook when she said, “I’d prefer you quit touching me, yes.”

  She held her breath waiting for his reaction to that statement, but all he said was, “Sit tight while I get the light.”

  He left his car door open as he went to the door leading into the house from the garage. Light spilled out of the car and across the concrete floor, showing a tidy display of tools. It also showed a heavy ax, hung against a pegboard. For one brief moment Amanda imagined Josh swinging that ax, ventilating a burning house before the heat and smoke overtook him. She gasped with the image, hurt and fearful.

  The sudden bright light nearly blinded her. She glanced up to see that Josh had unlocked the door and reached inside for a wall switch. Now that she could see her way, Amanda opened her own door and climbed out. She took a single step and then Josh was there beside her—the consummate gentleman, the pushy contender, she wasn’t sure which.

  He reached into the car for the bucket of chicken and the bag of side dishes, then maintained his hold on her elbow as he led her inside.

  They walked directly into an informal dining room. Josh plopped the food onto a thick cream-colored enamel table edged in shiny brass and surrounded by cream leather chairs. He reached for her coat and she had little choice but to slip it off. He put it over the back of a chair and while she removed her gloves, he shrugged out of his leather jacket.

  All the while he watched her, leaving her unnerved and uncertain.

  To escape his probing gaze, she looked around his home. The sparse dining room opened into a modern stainless steel kitchen and to the right of the kitchen was an archway leading into a living room. She could just see the edge of a beige leather couch with brass-and-glass end tables topped with colorful deco lamps. A short flight of carpeted stairs went up, likely to bedrooms, and a flight went down, maybe to a den.

  He wasn’t much for decorating, she noted. Most of the tabletops were barren; there were no photos or knickknacks about. Everything looked clean and utilitarian—perfect for a bachelor. She turned back to Josh with a smile. “Your home is lovely.”

  Hands on his hips, he asked, “So what’s it to be? You wanna eat first and then talk, or talk first?”

  “Eat.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked at her quick answer. “Is that decision inspired by cowardice or hunger?”

  It was a little of both, but she said, “I’m just starving.”

  Josh smiled. “C’mon. You can help me grab a few things in the kitchen.” He strode to the refrigerator, peered inside and asked, “What do you want to drink? Wine, cola, milk, juice…?”

  “A cola would be great.”

  Still bent into the refrigerator, he glanced at her and said, “I suppose you want it in a glass over ice?”

  “Well…yes.”

  He grinned and straightened, pulling out a couple of cans. “Plates are in that cabinet if you want to grab a couple. Tableware is in the drawer below it.”

  Josh snagged two glasses and held them under the refrigerator’s icemaker. Over the sound of clinking ice cubes he asked, “So what do you do, Amanda? Besides chase firefighters around and organize this charity-type stuff, I mean.”

  Amanda had to go on tiptoe to reach the shelf of plates. In her home, she stored only the most seldom used items so high, but she supposed for a man of Josh’s height, it wasn’t an issue.

  She began saying, “I’m a buyer for one of the mall’s clothing stores—” when the telephone rang. She and Josh both looked toward the wall unit. Neither of them moved. “Aren’t you going to answer it?”

  He shook his head. “The machine will pick it up.”

  He no sooner said that than the answering machine beeped and a woman began to speak.

  “Josh.” A wealth of disappointment rang in that utterly feminine voice. “I was really hoping you’d be home. I miss you, baby, and you know exactly what I mean. After last week, well, let’s just say I’m anxious to try that again!”

  A giggle, ripe with suggestion, made Amanda blink.

  “I need an encore, Josh, and I’m not taking no for an answer. So whatever time you get in, I don’t care how late, give me a ring. I’ll be here—waiting.” The woman said goodbye with a string of kissing noises and then the phone disconnected.

 
; Amanda, feeling almost like an eavesdropper, looked at Josh.

  He said, “So you’re a buyer? Does that mean you get to help pick out which fashions will be most popular?”

  Astounded that he intended to ignore the call, Amanda said, “Well…um…” Her mind was still back there on that “I need an encore.” What had he done to the woman?

  “I can see you being a buyer,” Josh continued. “You always look really put together, so it makes sense I guess. Let’s go eat. I’m starved.”

  Like a zombie, Amanda walked back into the dining room. Josh took the plates from her hand, held out her seat for her, and then left the room saying, “I’ll be right back.”

  She sat there trying to gather her wits, then shook her head to clear it. She didn’t care about Josh Marshall’s sexual exploits! The man was such a rogue, there was no telling what the woman referred to, but no doubt it would be shocking.

  With that tantalizing thought, her heart thumped hard, making her catch her breath. What type of shocking things did he indulge in?

  A few seconds later a thrumming musical beat began to filter into the room from ceiling speakers. Josh reappeared just as a male singer started crooning. “You like Tom Petty?”

  Since her brain was muddled, still pondering that phone call and the intimated sexuality, and she almost never listened to music anyway, Amanda merely nodded.

  “Great.”

  Josh sauntered back to the table and began loading both plates with corn on the cob, stiff mashed potatoes and biscuits. When he reached for the chicken, Amanda said, “A breast please.”

  Josh glanced up, winked, and pulled out two crispy fried chicken breasts. “See, we’re already finding things we have in common.”

  Amanda opened a paper napkin into her lap. “You think so?” After that phone call, she had serious doubts. While she avoided sexual conduct, Josh apparently embraced it.

  “Absolutely.” He saluted her with his glass of cola before taking a long drink. “Drinks, music and we both love breasts.”

  Amanda choked—and then amazingly enough, she laughed. Josh was so outrageous, it was impossible not to be entertained by him. He said and did things she’d never before imagined, much less experienced.