Mixing Temptation

by Sara Jane Stone

  She heard the familiar whoosh through the phone as Noah pushed open the swinging door that led to the bar’s back room.

  “Josie,” he called. “You’re needed at my dad’s place. Caroline is having a shoe crisis.”

  CAROLINE PACED THE kitchen and fought the urge to unlock the gun safe. She’d talked Noah’s dad into giving her the combination months ago. Sometimes she needed the added comfort of a loaded weapon against her leg. Logic suggested that her rapist would have hunted her down by now if he still held the end of his illustrious military career against her. But logic and fear didn’t always play nice together.

  More than a year had passed since she last saw her former CO in the doorway to her sister’s home. He’d suffered a dishonorable discharge for adultery. With Noah’s testimony, the military court had accepted the fact that she had a sexual relationship with him. But she couldn’t prove her CO had forced her. And oh the irony, the man who’d promised to lead her through a war zone then forcibly removed her clothes from her body, he dared to blame her for losing his job.

  She refused to let that man hurt her again. But as the possibility of an attack slipped further and further away, her need for a gun strapped to her thigh or tucked into the waistband of her pants should have disappeared too. But the feelings still haunted her even if the man had given up.

  Alone . . . Afraid . . . Skirting the edge of depression as if it were a deep pool she might stumble into . . .

  But not tonight.

  She circled the table, her fingers brushing the tops of the four chairs as she walked. Her fitted grey jeans and flowing, sleeveless pink blouse didn’t exactly scream, ‘accessorize with a handgun.’ Josie had lent her the clothes along with a pair of black leather ankle boots. And if she planned to kick some ass in these shoes, she better be prepared to balance on her toes—­or use the three-­inch spikes attached to the back of the boots.

  She heard the crunch of gravel before Josh’s pickup pulled into the parking area. The cat abandoned her prey and ran for the barn. And Caroline debated following the scared animal. But she wouldn’t get far in these stilts masquerading as footwear . . .

  Her date stepped down from his silver pickup. He’d given his ride a bath. Even the tires sparkled in the early evening light, no traces of mud from his latest harvest site. She suspected a chainsaw and a pile of safety gear hid in the bed of his truck, but he’d covered his tools for the night.

  And the owner of the shiny silver pickup had cleaned up too. He’d traded his lumberjack uniform—­button-­down flannel and cargo pants—­for a pair of clean blue jeans and a green short-­sleeve polo. The bright shirt drew her attention to his red curls. He’d stopped short of running styling gel through his hair, but he’d clearly tried to tame the curls. And then run his fingers through them a time or ten, probably on the drive over here.

  They’d both gone to a lot of effort for this date. What if they got to dinner and found they had nothing to talk about? She didn’t exactly have a lot to say about her current career. Most of it he’d heard before. And he’d already explained the finer points of felling trees over pie.

  “Evening, Caroline,” he called from the front door.

  He stopped in the entryway separating the kitchen from the hall. His shoulder rested against the wooden door frame. His gaze met hers then shifted lower to her pink shirt, down her jean-­clad legs to the stupid high-­heeled boots. She fought the urge to shift her weight from one foot to the other under his scrutiny.

  “You look beautiful.” He spoke in a low rumble as his gaze met hers again.

  “I borrowed the clothes from Josie,” she said.

  “They look good on you.”

  “Thank you,” she mumbled, shoving her hands in the back pockets of her jeans.

  His lips curved into a smile. “Ready?”

  No.

  But if not now, when? She couldn’t go back to the person she’d been before the Marines. She had to take a step forward.

  Or stay right here paralyzed by fear. . .

  She withdrew her hands and plucked her borrowed clutch from the table. Josie had claimed the worn black leather handbag matched her boots. And Caroline had agreed to carry the purse instead of her battered backpack. Then she drew a deep breath.

  “I’m ready,” she confirmed.

  He pushed off the door frame. “To go forth and conquer? Or for a first date?”

  “One and the same, right?” Caroline marched over to him.

  Josh laughed as he led the way down the short entry hall and held the front door open for her. “All right then,” he said.

  She hit the gravel before him, but he quickly caught up with her. Stupid boots. The heels sunk into the rocky surface and threatened to throw her off balance. But she fought back.

  “Nice shoes,” he said when they reached the passenger side door. “But your combat boots might have been a better choice for tonight.”

  Her brow knit together. “Where are you taking me?”

  Josh dialed up the charm as his lips formed another megawatt grin. The hint of stubble and the twinkle in his green eyes only added to his allure. He pulled the door open and gestured for her to climb in.

  “Where—­”

  “Tonight I’m taking my dream girl to one of my favorite spots in the Willamette Valley. I’ve always wanted to take a date to this place. But it never felt right before.”

  She stared at him. Dream girl? It never felt right? There were so many things wrong with that response. And she still didn’t have a clue why she should have worn combat boots.

  “You’ll see when we get there,” he added. “If you climb into the truck.”

  She maneuvered into the passenger seat. By the time she’d fastened her seat belt, he’d claimed his place behind the wheel.

  “Dream girl?” she said.

  “Front and center in my fantasies for the past year.” He put the truck in gear and headed down the drive to the main road. “Hell, I bet I have a better idea about what you look like naked than you do.”

  “You’ve never seen me naked.”

  “But I have a world-­class imagination.”

  She kept her gaze focused on the road, noting the turns. She rarely drove, but she’d learned her way around the town. And she’d walked the dirt roads that skirted around downtown Forever plenty of times.

  If she glanced at him, he might question the heat rising to her cheeks. He wasn’t the only one with an imagination. She’d memorized the way his work jeans hugged his butt. And daydreamed about the feel of his hard chest beneath her hands.

  “Good day?” he asked as they barreled down the country road kicking up dust.

  “Quiet,” she said. “Until Josie came by with Isabelle and half her closet. What about you?”

  “Chad and I headed over to a tract of land Moore Timber’s been hired to harvest. We’re trying to figure out if we can get trucks in there or if we need the helicopter. The incline is pretty steep, so I’m guessing Chad will get to fly on this one.”

  “Do you mind working with a helicopter?” she asked.

  “After one hit me on the head and tried to kill me?” He glanced over at her. “My brother wasn’t flying that one, so I feel pretty safe out there now. Chad and I have gotten into it once or twice, but not much since he settled down with Lena. He has better things to do in his downtime than take a swing at me.”

  No flashbacks? No paranoid feelings it might happen again?

  “Plus, I got my short-­term memory back. No permanent damage. And it’s not like I remember what happened, so pretty easy to put it behind me. The past is in the past and all that.”

  He turned onto a narrow dirt driveway. But she’d been too focused on his words to look for a sign out front. He’d reclaimed his memory. He’d let the past go. If only it was that simple for her. If only she could take back what had
been stolen from her.

  JOSH PUSHED ON the brake and slowed the truck to a stop. Then he put it in park and turned to her. The surprise, dinner—­it could all wait until his date returned to the present. Right now, she was staring out the window as if her thoughts were miles away.

  Something he said? He replayed their conversation over.

  No permanent damage.

  Yeah, her past wasn’t locked away. And it had done some serious damage. He hoped like hell it wasn’t permanent. The fact that she’d taken a chance on him suggested she might be ready to move forward. Sure, she’d waited a year before she’d asked. And longer before she agreed to a date and time. But she’d gone all in, dressing up for him.

  He studied her outfit. The pink shirt’s spaghetti straps offered one helluva view of her toned shoulders. He’d never had a thing for women’s arms. Tonight, in that shirt, she might turn him into a convert. He wanted to run his hand over her smooth, bare skin. Get up close and personal with her toned biceps.

  But first he needed to hit the reset button on their date.

  “I know it’s not that easy for you,” he added.

  “No, it’s not.” Her chin dropped to her chest as if she wished to study her hands clasped tight in her lap. “I was fearless when I joined the Marines. Even after my first deployment to Afghanistan, I was shaken, but still strong. I knew it wasn’t all sunshine and roses over there. I knew guys who were blown to pieces while on patrol. And I’d endured plenty of snide, sexist comments. But there were a lot of good guys too. So I signed on for another five years. I dreamed about promotions. And I thought I would be better the next time I deployed. With experience, I’d be able to do more. I was twenty-­four. Older and wiser.” She let out a harsh bark of laughter. “I thought I would become better. And instead . . . instead I became less.”

  “No,” he said firmly.

  “You didn’t know me before,” she said firmly. “I was fierce. At nineteen. At twenty-­four.”

  “Still are,” he said.

  She looked up at him with those sharp eyes. Her mouth formed a thin line. She looked more intimidating than half the crew chiefs he worked with and those guys easily had fifty pounds on her.

  “Do you know how many times I’ve checked over my shoulder today?” she demanded. “I’m scared and I can’t run from the feeling. It follows me, stripping away who I was.”

  “You’re still the toughest woman I know. And my brothers hooked up with some pretty badass chicks,” he said. “But you’re the most interesting. Certainly the sexiest. Although I’ve never pictured Kat or Lena naked. Chad would kick my ass for that. And even Brody might take a swing at me.”

  He won a small smile. But he’d hoped for a laugh. He leaned over, resting his right forearm on the center console. He raised his left and brushed the back of his hand over her cheek before lowering it to the car’s center. “Caroline—­”

  “I wanted to be less of myself. After he attacked me. The way I looked. The way I behaved—­I wanted to wipe it all away. It took taking a step back and coming home to the States before I woke up to the fact that he didn’t attack me because of how I looked or because I tried so hard to fit in and be ‘one of the guys.’ ”

  Josh stared at his date. Suddenly the gulf between a second kiss at a wedding—­under the pretense of a false relationship—­and where they stood now looked like a river lined with white-­water rapids instead of the smooth first date pond. What if he’d messed up and she wasn’t ready to date again? What the hell did he know about surviving rape? Or shit, surviving a war? He’d never served.

  But he’d had his sense of self stripped away along with his memory. And he’d been pulled close to depression waiting for it to return, wondering if he’d ever wake up with a clear picture of what had happened yesterday or the day before that.

  After all of that, he’d changed too. It hadn’t happened overnight, but gradually, he’d looked for a different future, ready to claim his second chance. Caroline wasn’t there yet and he could respect that.

  “You’re right,” he said. “I didn’t know you before. But I know you’re locked into some sort of epic battle with fear. I saw you pull a gun on that raccoon behind Big Buck’s when you first moved to town. Shit, I don’t mind if you’re carrying tonight.”

  “I’m not,” she said firmly.

  He let his gaze shift away from her dead-­serious expression. He lingered over her loose-­fitting shirt. “Really? Because I’ve been imagining all the places you might be hiding—­”

  “Josh.”

  Her voice shifted from serious to doom-­and-­gloom. And he knew it was time to save his first date.

  “OK, I’ll be serious for a second. But after this we’re going back to traditional first date chitchat. We’re not on some reality dating show. I hate to break it to you, but I don’t have a rose for you at the end of the night if you spill your guts and put on a good show. And . . .”

  He pulled away from her and sat upright in his seat. “Wait for it now, because I’m going to be straight up honest with you right now. I like you, Caroline. You’re straightforward. No games. And that works for me. I’ve spent the past year telling myself that if I show you respect and offer friendship, we might land right here on a date. So how about we go into the winery, grab the picnic basket they prepared for us, and hike out to one of my favorite spots in the great state of Oregon.”

  She cocked her head. “I thought most dates started with a rose, not ended with one.”

  He pushed open his door. “Do you live under a rock? There’s this reality dating show—­”

  “I know, Josh. It was a joke.” She followed his lead and climbed down from the truck. “And I promise I’ll save the rest of the heavy conversation for the hot tub.”

  “LOOKS LIKE WE got lost on the way to the hot tub.” Caroline added a note of mock despair to her voice.

  “I must have made a wrong turn,” he teased as he put the truck in park and cut the lights. The bright, nearly full moon illuminated the pickup’s interior.

  “I guess that means the heavy conversation will have to wait for our second date,” she added. “But after hiking through grape vines in these crazy heels—­”

  “You took them off ten feet into the field,” he said nodding to the shoes resting next to her feet.

  “I’ll put them back on if that will win me a steamy make-­out session in the front of your truck,” she said holding tight to the brave and bold feelings she’d stumbled on during their walk through the vineyard. She had revealed more about herself, how she’d felt in the aftermath of what had happened to her in Afghanistan, than she’d told anyone else, including her sister, Noah, and her parents.

  Though to be fair, she knew her parents believed her former CO. Her father had served in the Marines too and he’d held tight to the ‘good soldier’ defense. Her mother followed her dad’s lead, choosing to believe Dustin’s version of events. So she’d never confided in them.

  But Josh had listened and come back with the unexpected I like who you are now. Then he’d taken her out to a quiet, secluded spot overlooking the valley below. He’d poured her a glass of wine and told her about what he’d learned in his wine making course. And he’d made her laugh, reminding her why she’d looked forward to his visits each week.

  Because he didn’t look at her and see less of the person she’d been before. He just saw her.

  “You know, I usually have this rule about kissing barefoot,” he said. “But for you, I’ll make an exception.”

  “An exception?”

  “If—­”

  Her eyes widened. “There’s an if?”

  “If you take off your shirt.”

  “I think you’ve been misreading all of those ‘no shirt, no shoes, no ser­vice’ signs.” She leaned forward, slowly closing the gap between them. Her lips were an inch from his.
/>   “You might be right about that.”

  He brushed his lips over hers. A soft, gentle touch that set off fireworks inside her. And she slanted her mouth over his and deepened the kiss.

  Her tongue tangled with his and her hands begged to participate. She wanted to touch him . . . feel him . . . break her own rules and strip off his shirt.

  But then he broke away and sat back in the driver’s seat.

  “So do you think I won a rose?” he murmured.

  She cocked her head. “Do you think you earned one?”

  “Yes.” He lifted his hand and brushed his fingers over her cheek. “And I’m ready for the second date whenever you are, Caroline.”

  Chapter 5

  JOSH PRESSED PAUSE on the mental replay of last night’s end-­of-­date kiss. Daydreaming about how much he wanted to slip his hands under Caroline’s pretty pink shirt would lead to a reaction that didn’t belong in his big brother’s kitchen. If Caroline were sitting at the table his big brother had handcrafted . . .

  “Planning to make us dinner?” Brody pulled out a chair and sank down.

  “I thought Kat was at a conference this week,” Josh said as he played Tetris with an assortment of leftovers to reach the beers in the back.

  “She is. But Chad is about a minute or two out. He had the day off and gave me a hand on a volunteer search and rescue mission. Another lost hiker. We found her safe and sound.” Brody held out his hand for a brew.

  “Not for you,” Josh said.

  Brody raised an eyebrow. “You’re stealing my beer? What are you planning to make with it?”

  “I’m planning to drink it,” Josh said.

  “All alone in your apartment?” Chad strode in and claimed a seat across from Brody.

  “I’m expecting company.” Josh set two bottles on the counter and then returned to the fridge for the lone remaining can. He carried it over to the table. “And I don’t have time to go shopping.”

  “Caroline?” Brody asked as he cracked opened the can. He took a sip and passed it to Chad.

  “Yeah.”