Brent ushered her out to his black Dodge Challenger, new and sporty.
“Nice car,” she said.
He held the door open as she slid inside, over the black leather seat. He went around the vehicle and slid under the wheel, starting the engine and setting his hand on Julia’s seat as he backed out, his thumb brushing her shoulder again. “It’s a fun car. I had my eye on it for a while. I’m glad you decided to let me take you out.”
She just smiled, feeling suddenly shy. “So where are you taking me for dinner, anyway?”
“Well, we don’t have many choices here. It was either pancakes or the steakhouse. I’ll give you two guesses.”
“I don’t mind pancakes,” she teased.
“Well, you’re going to be disappointed… I’m taking you to the steakhouse.”
She laughed. “Good! I don’t remember the last time I was in there. I think it’s been forever.” She realized she had only been out two times since moving here, and both times had been for breakfast with the girls at the pancake house.
The ride was short, and Brent found a spot in front, not that it was very busy this time of year. Still, there were quite a few vehicles parked on the road. Brent opened her door and offered his hand to help her out. He didn’t want to let go of her hand, and it felt odd, so she made a motion of her purse slipping and yanked her hand away; righting the strap on her shoulder, then clutching it tightly with her hand. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. He reached for the door and opened it, and she stepped into the waiting area, painted in deep reds and browns. It was dim inside the restaurant, and Rita, a local woman with kids at the school, was the hostess.
“Hey there, Julia,” she said. Her gaze shifted to Brent. “Brent, right? I’ve seen you before. My son’s in your class.”
Rita had four children, ages six to fourteen. Her husband owned the garage and was home with the kids while she worked at night.
“That’s right. I made a reservation for two,” Brent said.
Rita tapped the book with her pencil, crossed off a name, and then grabbed two menus. “Right this way,” she said, leading them to a lovely corner table.
Brent ordered a bottle of red wine, a nice Chianti. Julia normally only drank a glass of wine maybe twice a year, or a beer at a summer barbecue, but she felt spoiled and was enjoying the adult company. After their orders were taken, there was a lull, and she found herself tongue tied.
“So tell me about yourself, Julia. Is there a father in the picture for your girls?”
Boy, her least favorite topic. Just thinking of Kevin still brought out an unpleasantness in her that she didn’t much care for. “He lives down in California; Sacramento, with his new wife.”
“Oh, was it amicable?” Brent asked, with what she felt was too much interest in something she had no desire to talk about. It was a sore subject for her, especially since she found out Kevin had been carrying on with his redheaded dental assistant the entire time they were married and living in Spokane. Everyone in the dental office knew, and she had been the last to find out. He had announced to her one night, when the twins were five, that he would be moving out. After her initial shock had worn off, she had questioned him and then talked to friends; from whom she had found out about the longstanding affair. She’d hired a lawyer and gotten a big fat settlement, which had bought the cafe, and a small house in a new town—in a state where no one would find out what a fool she’d been.
“As amicable as it could be,” she said, hoping he would drop it. She just didn’t want anything about that part of her life to touch her here.
“He doesn’t see the girls much, then. Must be hard on you?” he added with a look of concern, as if being a single mother made her weak and helpless.
She knew the opposite was true. She did everything without asking for help from anyone. That was just the way it was. “No, we have our life here, me and the girls. They see their dad twice a year, one month in the summer and then alternating between Christmas and spring break. With the distance, it’s more than enough,” she said. He nodded, and before he could pry into her private life any further, she set down her wine glass. “So this is your first year teaching here?”
He swirled his wine, took a breath, and said, “Best move I ever made. I wanted to make a difference, and in the larger districts, there’s just so much politics to wade through. I’m really a small-town man at heart.”
“You used to live in…was it Boise?” She couldn’t remember, but she knew it wasn’t that far.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Is your family still there?” she asked, and he seemed to consider something before taking another swallow of wine.
“I don’t have much in the way of family. I have an aunt in Arizona. Had a sister, but she died. She was young, early twenties.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Julia said. There was something about the way he had told her that made her soften toward him.
The waitress arrived and interrupted, setting their steaks in front of them. After, they chatted about the girls and school, polishing off the wine. Julia had two glasses, and she was feeling a little lightheaded even after that huge meal and the chocolate cake they shared for dessert.
“Do you feel like going dancing?” he asked.
She knew the only place was the local bar, and she really wasn’t into places like that. “You know what? I have an early day tomorrow,” she said. “Let’s say we call it a night. I’m really not into the bar scene.”
“Well, neither am I,” he confessed. “I just didn’t want the night to end.”
She took in his smile and his build. He really was a nice-looking man, but she didn’t feel that burning desire to spend all night talking to him. Maybe that was why she was twisting the napkin in her lap and holding her breath when the waitress finally showed up with the bill. Brent pulled cash from his wallet and set it on the table.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
He didn’t have to ask twice. She scooted back her chair and reached for her coat, but Brent said, “Let me,” and he helped her slip it on.
“Julia?” someone said.
Julia turned. Logan Wilde was approaching, and just hearing his voice had all her senses fired up. He knew how to stir things in her that she hadn’t thought possible.
“Logan, how are you?” she asked. His gaze seemed to go right to where Brent’s hand was still resting on her shoulder. She stepped away instinctively. Maybe she would get used to the touch of another person, but she wondered, because she didn’t hesitate to step closer to Logan. She knew that if he set his hand on her, she would welcome the touch, and that made her angry. What was wrong with her?
“Hello, Sheriff, good to see you. Julia and I are on our first date. Great steaks they have here. Are you having dinner alone, Sheriff?” Brent asked. Julia wondered, was he toying with him? Logan was watching Brent much like a predator watched and waited for its prey. She realized there was no love lost between the two.
She cleared her throat. “Enjoy your dinner, Logan. It’s getting late, and I need to get home.”
His gaze went right to her, taking in the table. “You okay to drive, there—Brent, is it?” he asked.
Brent had finished the bottle, and he really did seem fine, considering they’d had dinner, too. Julia frowned, though, because the last thing she wanted was to get into a vehicle with someone who was impaired even slightly.
“I’m fine,” Brent said. “We shared the bottle of wine with dinner, Sheriff. That doesn’t make me a drunk or careless… But then, I don’t go firing guns without a care about who’s around, either.”
Julia gasped. What the hell was that about? She couldn’t believe Brent had actually stooped so low, insinuating that the gossip she’d tried to put a stop to was true. Logan, of course, said nothing to that, but he locked his gaze on Brent, setting both hands on his slim, attractive hips and flashing his holstered gun. She wondered if that was his idiotic way of making a point.
“Look, you two, enough,” she s
napped. “I need to get home to my girls and let my sitter get home, as well.”
“Sheriff, your table is ready,” the waitress interrupted, smiling but not stopping to get into their little threesome. The restaurant was still half full, and Julia noticed some awkward glances.
“Come on, Julia. I’ll take you home,” Brent said, resting his hand on the small of her back to steer her out of the restaurant—except that she was now so furious that she actually leaned toward Logan. Brent’s hand was making her uncomfortable.
“You know, Brent, you did drink more than me, and you may be fine, but I think the sheriff is right. I’d rather be safe than sorry. After all, I know I couldn’t drive right about now.”
“Julia, I’ll get you home,” Logan said. “Brent, my deputy will give you a ride,” he added just as Jordy—the quiet deputy who stopped by her cafe every now and then for a sandwich—stepped up beside him. She wondered about the deputy, as he kept to himself, and she never saw him with other people. “Jordy, would you mind giving Mister Maloney, here, a lift home?”
Brent was shaking his head, and Julia wondered whether he was about to say something and cause a scene. The fact was that she’d had enough scenes, and been the subject of enough gossip, to last a lifetime.
“Brent, goodnight, and thank you for dinner,” she said. “It was lovely,” she added, even touching his arm. She sensed Logan stepping to her side so she could start past him. A move to block Brent from following or deciding to give her a goodnight kiss—which was also one of the reasons she was fleeing. Maybe Logan sensed her unease, and for that she was grateful. Brent was a little too handsy for her comfort.
She started past Logan and could feel his heat as he followed closely, reaching around her to get the door and setting his hand on the small of her back as he helped her into the passenger side of his Jeep. For a moment, he just watched her; the heat of his gaze lingering, so deep and strong and confusing. Neither said a word, and Julia could do nothing but sit there and breathe. Logan stepped back and closed her door.
Chapter 10
When he stepped into the steakhouse and saw Julia sitting with that clean-cut math teacher, Brent Maloney, Logan had felt every one of his protective instincts soar to a hot and dangerous level. He had to fight the very basic urge not to growl at the man. Then, when Brent had set his hand on Julia’s back…well, Logan had damn near seen red. He had been ready to ram his fist into Brent’s ultra-white smile. His teeth were probably all capped, Logan thought bitterly, because they seemed way too perfect.
He hadn’t missed Julia’s discomfort when she stepped away. She just wasn’t that good at hiding her feelings. The man was being way too intimate, as if he felt he had the right to put his hands on her. After seeing that wine bottle, there was no way Logan would let this guy get behind the wheel and drive her anywhere. Brent may have been sober enough, but Logan wasn’t about to take any chances with Julia’s safety. For some reason, he was starting to feel responsible for this tiny, deep, gorgeous woman. It was hard to admit, but he was also feeling mighty jealous of Brent, whom he saw as an artificial creep.
There was something about Julia sitting beside him in his Jeep that felt so right. He wondered what was going through her mind to have gone on a date with a weasel like that. Oh, Brent may have been a respectable math teacher..but if there was one thing Logan was good at, it was figuring out people and situations. It was a sixth sense that had saved him and the men in his unit over and over—until that fateful day when the roadside bomb had come out of nowhere and taken them out.
Brent Maloney…Logan knew there was something off there. Even though jealousy had made him instantly dislike the man and his interest in Julia, there was something else that bothered him. He couldn’t fault Brent for being attracted to such an interesting woman, but whether or not the teacher was hiding something or up to no good, Logan intended to find out. In fact, at the moment, he had Clinton checking into his past and the story Rose had relayed. So far, they hadn’t found Brent registered as a teacher in Chicago or the state of Illinois, period.
“I didn’t know you were dating Brent Maloney,” Logan said, looking straight ahead. He picked up her restless breathing.
“I’m not, really. He asked me out for dinner, and I said yes. I don’t think that signifies dating. He’s nice,” she said rather sharply.
Logan glanced over at her and the way she was biting her lower lip. “Does he make you nervous?”
“No, of course not. He’s my girls’ math teacher. Why would he make me nervous?” she replied too quickly.
Logan didn’t say anything. He knew when someone was lying. Maybe she was lying to herself, but why would she do that? “Well, I’d rather see you safe—so I’m glad, just the same, to be driving you home. How well do you really know him?”
“Oh, about as well as I know you, I’d say,” she snapped. “He’s from Boise, has an aunt in Florida and a sister who died. Tell me, Logan, what do I know about you?” The seat rustled as she slid around to face him.
Logan wondered why Rose told him Brent had a large family and came from Chicago. She must have been confused. He’d have to talk with her tomorrow, but at least he could have Clinton start looking in Boise.
“I have four brothers,” he began. “I’m the oldest and have been watching out for each of them. Joe just got married, Ben is some swanky oil executive, Samuel is just finishing up law school, and baby Jake is a football star. I grew up in Post Falls and enlisted in the marines when I was eighteen. I would have retired in the marines if not for the bomb ending my career. My parents are still together, retired and living in Boise. Anything else you want to know?” he asked, smiling at her grudging interest.
“Why do you call your brother ‘baby Jake?’ If he looks like you, he can’t be very small.”
“No, Jake’s in college on a football scholarship. He’s as tall as me, but he’s the youngest, and we always looked out for him. Don’t remember who gave him that nickname, but it stuck. We still call him that to this day. Mind you, he doesn’t appreciate it much now.”
She didn’t say anything else about it, gesturing to a road a block over from where he lived. “Down there, on the end.”
She really didn’t have to tell him, since he’d already made a point of finding out where she lived, as well as the names of her girls, Dawn and Trinity. Rose had told him that one was a trickster, her sister always trying to smooth over whatever she had done. That had made Logan smile, picturing his brothers and his mama. The twins were a handful, he’d bet, but he’d like to get to know them and their mother better.
Logan pulled into Julia’s driveway and shut off the engine. “Tell me, Julia, what kind of idiot would ever let you go?”
She seemed to pull away in her seat without moving an inch, jutting her chin awkwardly as if fighting to hold back something that was causing her a world of hurt. “He cheated on me, had been the entire time we were married. I was the only one who didn’t know.” When she looked over at him, she wore a sad smile. “I guess I’m really not all that smart. You know what hurt the worst? After he told me he was leaving, I found out it was for his assistant, who’d been working with him for years. All our friends, even the receptionist, said, ‘Well, how come you didn’t see it? Didn’t you wonder what he was doing, all those long lunch hours and late nights?’ I could honestly say no, I had no idea; and everyone looked at me with such pity. It was like that saying, kicking someone when they’re down. I moved me and my girls here, where nobody knew us; where no one would look at me like that again.” She just stopped talking and tapped her purse.
Logan, who was resting his arm on her seatback, reached over and touched her tightly fisted hands, running his thumb over her knuckles. She didn’t pull away. All she did was look up at him, and all he would have to do was lean in closer and touch her lips with his. The kiss would be so easy, and she was so vulnerable. “Then he’s a damn fool, and so are those so-called friends,” he finally replied.
&n
bsp; Her eyes went right to his lips, and her breath caught. For a moment, he imagined a rope bringing them together. He leaned foward and kissed her, running his mouth so lightly over her lips, soft and sweet, and she opened for him without hesitation. He deepened the kiss, tasting her and sliding his hand over her cheek, into her hair, and angling his mouth to hers. When he pulled back, feeling her warm breath and tasting wine on her…he knew that, whatever it took, he was going to find a way to make her his.
Chapter 11
What the hell had she been thinking? All night, she had tossed and turned, burning as she relived the million-dollar kiss Logan Wilde had set on her in his Jeep; scrambling her will, leaving her so weak in the knees that she had barely been able to walk to the front door.
Logan hadn’t just dropped her off and run. In fact, he had taken her keys, walked her to the front door, and unlocked it—even checking the house to make sure everything was locked up while Julia paid the sitter. Then he’d driven Susie home, which was only at the end of the street, making it clear that he wasn’t about to let a kid walk anywhere alone at night—no matter how small the town was or how close she lived. He hadn’t just left and let Julia shut the door, either. No, he had hung out in the doorway for what felt like an eternity, though it was actually only a few seconds, letting her know in his unspoken way, as his gaze lingered, that he too was reliving that kiss—or at least that was what she hoped.
Of course, without a good night’s sleep, Julia was both cranky and overtired this morning. She was late opening up, and several customers were standing outside, peering in through the window. In her haste, she then burned herself on the new steamer and broke a plate and mug. Now she had a phone order from the firehouse and was hurrying to get their eight meals ready for pickup before the lunch crowd came in. The jangle on the door had her glancing up from where she was spreading mayo on bread, and she damn near choked when she saw Logan. He angled his chin and started toward her, and damn it all if she didn’t feel a blush warm her cheeks. She tried to duck her head but ended up knocking over a container of chicken.
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