Dominic rested his forearms on the polished wooden bar. “Just how private are we talking?”
“Are we really doing this?” Josh asked.
“Answer the damn question,” Noah said.
“I’m just saying, if we’re suddenly ‘BBFs’ and all”—Josh paused and took a bite of his roll—“we might want to break out the nail polish before I fill you in on the down-and-dirty details from my dates.”
“What down-and-dirty details?” Dominic growled.
Josh grinned. “Well, things got pretty wild in the hot tub.”
“Fuck,” Noah muttered.
“Not that wild,” Josh said, trying to add a note of o-woe-is-me to his voice. “But I have high hopes for next time. And don’t worry, I’ll tell you everything at our post-date sleepover.”
And now you laugh, Josh thought. But the army ranger and the Marine had packed away their sense of humor for the day.
“Look, Josh, I’ve known your family a long time,” Noah said. “And you seem like a good guy. But I swear—”
“I see,” Josh cut in with a nod. “This isn’t a heart-to-heart talk.”
“If you hurt Caroline, if you push her to do something she isn’t ready for, we’re going to have problems,” Noah continued.
“I know,” Josh said. “And while I’m willing to bet I can hold my own seeing as I grew up with two big brothers, we’re on the same page. I won’t push her. But I also won’t treat her as if she’s broken. She went through hell and she doesn’t need you, me, or your sidekick”—he nodded to Dominic—“acting like it defines her. She deserves to be wined and dined away from curious stares so I took her to my favorite vineyard for a sunset picnic on Monday. And we watched a movie my brother recommended on Tuesday. If you want to know more than that, you’ll have to ask her yourself.”
The door to the back room swung open and Caroline marched in. She spotted the three men gathered around the bakery box and ground to a halt five paces from the bar.
Josh sat back on his stool and took another bite of his roll while he admired the view. She’d traded the borrowed boots for her preferred footwear. The I’ll-kick-your-ass combat boots matched with her don’t-mess-with-me expression, but not so much with her fitted jeans and long-sleeve Big Buck shirt. This top hugged her curves compared to the oversized work shirts she usually wore.
“Ask me what?” Caroline demanded.
“The down-and-dirty details from our date,” Josh said.
Her gaze honed in on the pseudo-interrogators behind the bar. Sure, they’d been looking out for her. And Josh appreciated that fact. The more people on Team Caroline the better. But he also hoped she gave them a little hell for crossing the line.
“I missed the locker room chat?” she asked.
“It wasn’t like that,” Noah said.
“He’s right. Nothing like that, sweetheart,” Josh drawled. “These boys are more of the bonbons and brunch type.”
“And here I thought they’d promised to stay out of my business,” she said with a sharp look at Noah.
“Don’t worry, I’m making sure they remain true to their word,” Josh said.
She walked over to his stool and rested one hand on his thigh. He glanced down at her fingers resting on his jeans. As a rule, she didn’t invite physical contact in public. He’d learned to respect that barrier. Hell, he’d kept his hands to himself during their picnic. He’d been granted a good-night kiss before she climbed out of his truck, but even then he hadn’t dared touch her. And he’d waited for her to make the first move after the movie. He wasn’t in this for the score, and he sure as shit didn’t want her hopping into bed with him to banish bad memories. He needed her to desire him.
But none of that changed the fact that he welcomed her hand on his leg right now. And he didn’t give a damn about the former state champion athletes standing on the other side of the bar.
“So you didn’t tell them about the hot tub?” she asked.
“Nope.” He shook his head and fought back a grin. “They don’t need to know how you earned your rose, my sweet. Some things should remain private, you know?”
Including any and all references to my Magical post-movie performance, he thought.
“So true,” she murmured as she withdrew her hand. “But I think it’s fair to tell your buddies here how much you enjoyed the theme of the movie, right?” She glanced over the bar at Dominic and Noah.
Josh nodded and tried to match her solemn expression.
“Josh really took it to heart,” she added. “He was rooting for the hero in the end.”
This woman’s wry wit might push me over the edge.
He liked her. He’d been damn clear about that. But this could snowball fast with emotions piling up before their third date.
Without warning, she placed one foot on the metal base of his stool and climbed onto his lap. His arms went around her slim waist and held tight. Across the bar, Josh caught Noah’s wide-eyed stare and knew he was just as surprised by her move.
“Relax, Noah,” she said. “I learned the three date rule in high school.” And she reached into the box and pulled out one of the rolls he’d made just for her.
“You might need to clarify that one for Noah. He didn’t exactly play by the rules when he started courting Josie,” Josh said before Noah could jump back into the conversation.
“No, he didn’t,” Caroline said.
Noah shook his head and muttered something about opening up for paying customers as he walked away. His sidekick took one more roll from the box and turned to the half-empty tray of clean pint glassware. With his back to them, Dominic stacked the glasses.
“I should get to work,” Caroline murmured.
“Finish your breakfast first,” Josh said. Even though prolonged contact with her perfect backside would probably leave him with a hard-on that would linger and leave him aching.
“Mmm,” she murmured as she took another bite. She leaned back against him and that’s when it hit him. She’d playfully sparred with Noah and shocked them all when she’d climbed onto his lap, but she wasn’t playing defense. She felt relaxed in his arms.
“Caroline?” he said in a low voice.
She glanced at him over her shoulder, her lips lined with white icing from the roll, and he thought what the hell? Second chances were for going after the girl who made him feel like he’d found his future, right? And if he was open and honest with her, if he took his time, they could make this work. Sure, her problems were big. But he refused to believe this—them, together—was destined for failure.
With his arms still wrapped around her waist, he hugged her close. His lips grazed her ear. “I don’t give a damn if Noah loosens up. But I enjoy seeing you like this. Relaxed. Carefree. Whenever you’re ready for that third date, just say the word.”
She licked the icing off her lips. And yeah, there was no way she’d missed the large, imposing fact that she’d turned him on. His dick was close to bursting out of his jeans and begging for entry into hers.
“I have a dinner break before my evening shift,” she said. “Five o’clock.”
“I’ll be here.”
CAROLINE PUSHED THROUGH the swinging door and tried to school her expression.
Don’t think about Josh.
If she started skipping through the bar with a rack full of clean glasses while remembering how he felt pressed up against while she sat on his lap—large and eager—she would draw attention.
Her chin dipped to her chest and her shoulders hunched forward as if trying to make herself disappear. She stole a sideways glance at the nearly empty barroom. No one was looking at her. The small groups of college and grad students hadn’t stopped midsentence to wonder who the woman with the dishes was.
AWOL. Outlaw. Fugitive.
Pushing past her comfort zone didn’t change the fact that those labels hovered over her. They rose up like a solid brick barrier to a long-term relationship with Josh. Part of her ached to reach the third date and beyond, but after that . . .
Josh wanted the massive timber-frame house on the hill, the loving marriage, and probably the two point five kids to complete the American dream. She didn’t hold that against him. She believed in that vision of Americana bliss. She’d fought to keep that hope alive. Or at least that was why she’d joined up. She’d wanted to be one of The Few. The Proud. The Brave . . .
But it didn’t feel very brave to fight her commanding officer for her sense of dignity, for her right to dictate who touched her and how. And she wasn’t proud of the fact that she’d lost that battle.
The familiar tension rose up and pulled at her shoulders, threatening her nerves. She’d spent most of the week thinking about her dates with Josh. The way he’d teased her at the end of that first night when they’d pulled up to Noah’s childhood home, now her sanctuary . . .
Do you think you won a rose?
He tossed the question out there. She’d turned the tables and tossed it right back at him. He hadn’t laughed at the idea that other men would fight for the chance to date her. He’d simply said yes.
But her life wasn’t a reality TV show. They could have dozens of heart-to-heart conversations and when they finally moved passed kissing, when they finished the striptease they’d started in his apartment, she might leave the ghost of her bravery behind and run.
She stumbled and nearly dropped the rack of glasses.
“Too many cinnamon rolls?” Dominic asked.
“Josh baked and I missed it?” Lily turned to her boyfriend. “And you didn’t save one for me?”
Dominic shook his head as he lifted the slab of wood that kept the patrons on their side of the bar. “Can’t have you admiring another man’s buns even if they’re made of cinnamon and sugar.”
Dominic and Noah appeared at her side both reaching for the rack of clean dishes. But she held tight, glancing from one man to the other. “It takes two of you to handle a dozen customers?” she challenged. “Or are you waiting around to give Josh a hard time again?”
“Ryan’s stopping by with Helena,” Dominic said as he plucked the rack from her arms and turned back to the bar.
Caroline took a step back. She wasn’t eager for more getting-to-know-you chitchat with an officer who lived and breathed the world she’d left behind.
“Helena was his best friend since they were in kindergarten,” Noah explained. “She wasn’t able to make the wedding. Something to do with her husband’s prior commitments, but she’s in town for a quick visit and wanted to stop by.”
“I’m so glad Ryan talked her into a trip. I haven’t seen her in years,” Lily mused. “I know she wanted to get far, far away from her mom’s farm, but it’s like she moved to California and never looked back.”
“You don’t need to worry about her, Caroline,” Noah added. “She was always a little wild and never played by the rules. The cops in this town are probably still looking for Helena in connection to half a dozen pranks.”
“Helena’s a lot of fun,” Dominic added as he pulled glass after glass from the rack and arranged them in a neat line. “We used to go four-wheeling out on her mother’s farm.” He glanced over his shoulder. “You would have had fun if you’d joined us, Lil.”
Lily gave a fake shudder. “Getting covered in mud was never my idea of a good time. Unlike Helena, I didn’t want to find clumps of hay in my hair the next day.”
“I would have helped you wash your hair, Lil,” Dominic drawled.
Lily laughed. And Caroline tried to use the moment to slip away. She would rather have a conversation with the now empty industrial dishwasher than an air force officer.
“Looks like we’re late to the party,” a familiar male voice called.
Lily caught hold of Caroline’s arm. She glanced down at Lily’s bright pink nails. “You don’t have to go,” Lily whispered. “Stay and meet Helena. You’ll like her. And you already know Ryan.”
Caroline nodded and took a step back as if she could disappear into the shadows. But the area near the bar was well lit, unlike some of the corners behind the subwoofer stacks near the DJ stage. Still, the new arrivals weren’t looking at her. They were focused on their friends—or at least the man in air force dress blues was too busy shaking Noah’s hand to notice her. The woman—Helena—she kept her gaze fixed on her shoes.
No one rushed forward to greet her. Noah, Dominic, and Lily—they all stared at her. And Caroline could understand their hesitation. They were probably scared they’d wrinkle her because the mud-loving, four-wheeling farm girl looked like she’d walked off the pages of a fashion magazine. From her Prada stilettos to her fitted white Capri-length jeans to her tailored pale-pink blouse, this woman looked like she would scream and run if she saw a cow.
As for mud or hay in her hair? Caroline couldn’t picture the newcomer with a single strand of her blond bob out of place. She was sleek, slim, and wearing enough makeup to keep her face looking picture perfect from morning till night, and probably beyond.
For the first time since she’d arrived in Forever, Oregon, Caroline felt like she might fit in here. Sure, it was only by comparison to the long lost Helena. Still—
Ryan stepped closer to the Prada Princess and went to put his arm around her. The perfect, put together woman flinched as if he might hit her. It was a small movement. Maybe the others hadn’t noticed, Caroline thought, because a split second later, Helena allowed her best friend from childhood to drape his arm across her shoulder.
Ryan gave her a tepid squeeze and then withdrew his hand. One look at the officer’s face and Caroline suspected he’d seen his friend react as if he might hurt her. The tall man in the dress uniform appeared equal parts hurt and mystified.
But Caroline knew. Looking at Helena . . . it was like staring into a mirror and seeing her own reflection from a year ago. Not the clothes or the hair, but the way Helena held herself apart as if she craved isolation—as if she wanted to make herself somehow less. The clothes were a shell, but they didn’t offer this woman assurance. If Helena had been sure of herself at some point, her confidence had been stripped away.
Caroline didn’t know this woman’s story. She doubted Helena’s childhood friends knew the hows and whys behind her transformation. But she recognized that island of complete loneliness. She’d lived there and she knew without asking that Helena hadn’t brought herself to this place.
Chapter 7
CAROLINE SLIPPED INTO the back room while the circle of high school friends struggled to make small talk with their old friend. The questions echoed in the nearly empty barroom and drifted through the swinging door.
Did she like California?
Yes.
Had she made new friends?
Some.
Helena was the queen of stiff, one-word answers. When asked if she worked, she told them she’d tried acting, but then she’d met Ashford. And she’d given up the starving artist life when she married him. Helena punctuated the explanation with a laugh that sounded like it had been tried and tested at country club cocktail parties—or maybe in her old acting classes.
But the visit continued, moving in stops and starts. Helena asked a few questions about the bar before slipping back into her stunted responses when Lily pressed for more details about the amazing Ashford. He worked in the catchall field of ‘business’ and liked golf.
Laughter spilled in from the front and Caroline wondered if she’d imagined the other woman’s loneliness. Maybe talking to Josh about how she’d felt trying to navigate through a world where the man who was hurting her maintained his position of power had led her to project her feelings. She’d never met this woma
n before. And while she could tell Helena had changed after she’d moved away, that didn’t mean—
The door leading to the bar’s public space swung open and Caroline instinctively moved closer to the dishwasher. But Helena clearly hadn’t rushed out of the bar’s front room to see her. The Prada Princess held her cell phone pressed to her ear.
“I’m sorry,” she pleaded, her voice trembling. “I didn’t know you were taking an earlier flight—”
From halfway across the room, Caroline heard a male voice shouting what sounded an awful lot like you left without telling me. I didn’t give you permission.
Why would Helena sneak away to visit her hometown? And why would she need permission?
The rest of the words were lost, but she clearly heard “you bitch” and “come home now.”
“Yes,” Helena said. “I will.” Then she closed her eyes and lowered the phone. Tears streamed down her face.
It was none of her business, but Caroline stepped forward, her steel-toed boots pressing into the squishy rubber mat that covered the floor beside the dishwasher.
Helena opened her eyes and turned to her. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t realize—”
“You don’t need to apologize to me,” Caroline said. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” She wiped at her eyes, smearing her mascara over and around her eyes. “I just need to freshen up. Is there a bathroom back here?”
“If you need help—” Caroline began again.
Helena forced a smile. “I’m sorry you heard our little fight.”
“That was an attack.”
Helena’s mascara-rimmed eyes widened. “No,” she said firmly. “I forgot to tell him that I’d planned a quick trip up here. I just forgot . . .”
It was a lie. She’d heard the way the man on the phone barked the word ‘permission.’ He controlled her. Whether he hurt her physically or just used his words, it all amounted to the same thing—abuse.
“You don’t have to go back,” Caroline said.
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