by Smith, CP
Calla shook her head rapidly. “It wasn’t like that.”
“No? How else is he gonna see it? I look pathetic. Worse even. Desperate.”
“Did you know I saw you first?” a deep voice rumbled from across the room. I jerked my head up and found Joe leaning against the doorframe, watching me with a lazy look on his face. “The night before, actually. You were with Eunice on the beach watching fireworks. I heard your voice and . . . knew I had to find the woman it belonged to.”
“What?” I whooshed out.
Calla glanced back at me and bugged out her eyes. “I’ll just . . .” she said, then jumped off the bed and headed for the door. She paused when she reached Joe and looked up at him. “You’ll never be good enough for her, just so you know. She’s one in a million.”
Warmth blossomed in my chest hearing her declaration.
Joe grinned and raised his hand, offering it to her. “I’m Joe. You must be the spitfire who’s never allowed in my club.”
Calla took his hand and smirked at his comment. “Devin exaggerates. I only found one dead body. Sienna found the other, and Poppy never had her hand on the trigger, so that one doesn’t count.”
Joe chuckled like he didn’t believe her.
If he only knew.
“You still can’t come inside my club.”
Calla threw her head back and laughed, then walked out of the bedroom, leaving us alone.
I tried to get to my feet so I could pull up my jeans. Joe watched me struggle to stand with a grin on his face. Exasperating man! “You know, a gentleman would turn around.” I sighed when I caught him inspecting my backside.
“I lost you in the crowd before I could talk to you, so I got up early the next morning and walked South Beach hoping I’d find you,” he said cryptically instead of averting his eyes like any good Southern gentleman would.
“What are you goin’ on about?” I questioned irately, ready to escape.
He pushed off the doorframe when I tried to pass by him and came up behind me, moving me to the wall, pinning me next to the door with his whole body. His front pressed into my back, and once again, his heat infused my person with exhilarating warmth. I pressed my head against the wall and balled my fists to keep from touching him. I would not be led astray by a sexy man. There was no way I could trust his reason for being here.
“Last Fourth of July, I was sitting on the beach and I heard a voice in the crowd that was so smooth and sexy . . . Christ, it felt like you caressed me from across the sand,” he began again, and my breath stalled in my chest. “It brushed along my skin like warm honey and made me feel something besides empty, so I knew I had to find the owner. I did, but I lost you in the crowd.”
My heart began to pound when I realized what he was saying. “You’re sayin’ you saw me first?” I whispered to the wall. Joe grabbed hold of my shoulders and turned me until I was staring back at him.
“Saw you first and immediately wanted you. When I lost you in the crowd, I got up before dawn the next morning in hopes I’d find you on the beach welcoming in the sunrise. I didn’t, so I made the decision to stay in Tybee and give it a few more days.”
“Why?” I questioned, searching his eyes.
He cupped my face gently, and my eyes closed at the tenderness. “Because I’ve been dead for years. I woke up the second I heard your voice and knew I had to find out if you were who I’ve been searching for. I was taking my brother to the airport when you appeared like an angel right in front of me.” My heart stuttered, and the butterflies in my stomach spread their wings and beat against my chest. Was he saying what I thought he was saying? And if he was, then why the heck did he leave without talking to me?
“If you felt that way, then why did you walk away?”
“Odis Lee showed up. I thought he was your man.”
I blinked. “You thought Odis Lee . . .”
“A woman like you?” He shook his head. “I couldn’t imagine a man hadn’t snatched you up, so it made sense to me.”
I puzzled over his explanation for leaving. “So, you left without findin’ out? Without makin’ sure what you saw was correct?”
He closed his eyes and jerked his head once in agreement. “I fucked up and spent the last year paying for that mistake, dreaming about you every night, imagining what some other man might be doing to you. I gotta tell you, it pissed me off.”
“What pissed you off?” I whispered, unable to speak louder for the hope lodged in my throat.
“The thought of another man putting his hands on what I considered to be mine from the moment I laid eyes on you. It drove me fucking crazy.”
I blinked at his admission and rolled my lips between my teeth to keep from smiling. I couldn’t believe he was admitting to possessiveness after one encounter.
Joe saw my reaction, and his hand snaked around my middle. He drew me into his body with a swift jerk, his hand settling on my lower back to keep our hips pressed close. I could feel his hardness against my stomach, and it made my knees weak with want.
“Does that make me pathetic? Or maybe desperate?” he asked, staring at my mouth. “The fact I saw a woman who made my blood burn with so much want, I couldn’t get over her?” I opened my mouth to argue that it wasn’t the same thing, but he cut me off. “How about the fact that she haunted my dreams with such clarity, no woman I’ve met since has held a candle to her?” I drew in a shuddered breath at his implication. It was becoming crystal clear he hadn’t forgotten me and his intentions weren’t what I thought. My stomach fluttered with so much hope, it almost hurt. “How about the fact the minute I found out I’d been wrong about you having a man, I closed up my house and headed straight for you?”
He headed straight for me?
“Tell me, Bernice,”—he shook my person slightly to make sure I was listening—“does it make me desperate or pathetic for hoping an angel with a Southern drawl, one who’s voice caressed my skin and warmed something inside of me that had been cold and broken for years, might just be what’s been missing in my life?”
“Joe—”
“Answer me,” he growled. “Am I pathetic or desperate for wanting you at first sight?”
Moisture flooded my eyes, and I shook my head. He was right. I wasn’t desperate or pathetic. There was nothing pathetic about hoping for love at any age.
“No. No, you’re not.”
He reached up, curled his hand around my neck, and tugged me farther into his body until his mouth was bare inches from mine. “Right answer, Sweetcheeks,” he breathed against my lips, and then he kissed me like I hadn’t been kissed in my life. It was soul-consuming in its want. Any doubts I may have had about why Joe was here in Tybee vanished the moment his mouth melded with mine. I was drunk with the rightness of being held by him. It felt almost preordained. Like all the heartache Eunice and I had endured in our tumultuous childhood was the road I had to travel to bring me here to Joe.
My head spun with the intensity of the emotions overloading my system. With the hope that maybe my stars had finally aligned and I’d find love with this man.
I had to cling to Joe for support when I melted into him, afraid I might swoon like some inexperienced ninny who’d never been kissed. But I almost lost my footing when he broke panting from my lips with a surprised jerk a moment later and placed his forehead against mine, groaning on a ragged breath like a man who knew he’d been wrong about something, and chuckled. “Christ . . . I can’t believe November was right.”
“What?” I gasped, still clinging like a vine in the dead of summer, wondering who November was and why he was thinking about her while I was pinned against his body.
“Fucking BOOM!”
Four
Bernice is a Wallflower
JOE’S HEART POUNDED IN his chest while he stared dumbfounded at Bernice. His cock was hard, thanks to her soft curves pressed up close to him, but that wasn’t what held his attention. For the first time in his life, he felt like he was exactly where he was sup
posed to be. As if he’d woken from a fifty-year dream and found himself on solid footing. And it was all because of the woman in his arms.
Within moments of kissing Bernice, Joe knew without a shadow of a doubt she was his future. He could feel the rightness of it echoing faintly through his cells until they were screaming at him to claim her in the most primitive of ways. With that one kiss, he finally understood what his subconscious had been trying to tell him for the past year in his dreams: Bernice was his.
Last July, when they’d stared at each other, Bernice had branded herself on his soul. Burrowed under his skin. With one look, she’d become his single focus, and it never subsided, even when he thought she was taken. Now that she was finally in his arms, all the tension, all the frustration and restlessness he’d experienced for years, melted away. She felt like his salvation. As if she’d opened a door and let the light back in. He felt contentment, almost like he’d been forgiven by God for any sins he’d committed.
“BOOM?” Bernice questioned, settling farther into his body. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’ve been washed clean of my sins,” he mumbled in response, wrapping her up tighter in his arms. “You really are an angel.”
Bernice swallowed hard, then shook her head. “I’m no angel. My momma would say I’m tenacious. More devil child than angel.”
Joe ignored her denial and scanned her face, expecting to see a heavenly light escaping. “You’re my angel then,” he argued. “You can be as tenacious and as devilish as you want, but it won’t change how I see you.”
He could tell by the look on her face Bernice didn’t believe him. Joe knew after what she’d told Calla about not trusting his reasons for being there, he’d have his work cut out for him. He grabbed her hand and lifted it to his chest, so he could begin to break down her walls of doubt. “Feel that?”
She licked her lips, which only served to make him harder, and nodded as she stared at his chest.
“It hasn’t beat with life in years. It’s kept me alive, but it hasn’t beat with anything like want in for-fucking-ever. I want you. Want to explore this thing between us.”
She looked up from his hand, then curled her fingers around his. Her eyes twinkled with mirth in response. “My momma will love you.” She grinned. “She’ll say you’re a smooth talker, then act as if you’re no good. But she’ll secretly love your charm.”
Joe smirked. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
She hesitated for a moment, then graced him with an airy drawl that enticed him to do far more than talk. “Momma would say it’s a bad thing to let a man have any power over you.”
He tightened his hold. “Is that so?”
Her Southern accent was thicker when she flirted, and he liked it a fuck of a lot. “Indeed. We Armstrong women are made of sterner stuff. We don’t need a man, but one as charmin’ as you are can be . . . fun.”
His mouth pulled into a beaming smile. “I can show you fun . . . and get down and dirty while doing it.”
Bernice rolled her lips between her teeth, fighting to keep from laughing.
Joe heard voices murmuring in the living room, so he looked through the open door and caught Calla and two other young women actively pretending they weren’t listening to them. He didn’t want an audience while they got to know each other.
“Come take a ride on the back of my bike.”
He reluctantly separated from her body and didn’t wait for her to agree. Lacing his fingers with hers, Joe pulled Bernice out of the room until she tugged back. He turned to argue they needed time alone, but Bernice cut him off. “Joe, I need shoes.”
He glanced down and took in her small feet. Her toenails were painted a vibrant pink with tiny white flowers on the biggest toe. The sight caused warmth to curl around his gut and settle in his chest. From tip to toe, Bernice was different from any other woman he’d ever been with. Other than his niece and her daughters, there was no softness in his world. Only rough edges and belligerent attitudes. Bernice was like a breath of fresh air. Like a spring rain that cleansed the earth. She was soft yet strong, had the type of attitude that made him hard instead of angry. She was one of a kind and pure class.
“Wear tennis shoes if you have them. I don’t want you burning your feet on my pipes.”
Bernice spun around with a grin and ran back into her bedroom. Joe followed her with his eyes until she was out of sight, unwilling to lose a second of time now that he had her firmly within his grasp.
Turning to wait for her on the front porch, Joe was immediately accosted by the young women, their men, and Eunice. He scanned the living room for Odis Lee and his friend and found they were missing. One less problem to solve, in his estimation. But first, he had to deal with the four women inspecting him with a curious eye.
“This is Sienna and Poppy,” Calla stated as he approached. “And their men Bo and Nate.”
He stopped and took in the three women he’d heard so much about. Along with Calla, another blonde and a brunette stood in front of him. All of them looked so innocent, he could see why Devin had said he and his friends felt washed of their sins. Bo, Sienna’s man, stood behind her with his hand resting on her shoulder. He looked like the cop Devin had said he was. His eyes were sharp and assessing. Nate, Poppy’s man, was massive and all muscle. He also looked guarded. Both were taking Joe in with suspicion. Devin had said Bernice was family, but it was clear to him that Devin’s friends had adopted the Armstrong sisters as members of their family as well.
“I’m Joe,” he returned.
Poppy, the brunette, scanned him from head to toe. “Bernice wasn’t lyin’. You are tall, dark, and dangerous lookin’.”
Her man, Nate, shook his head with a grin. Joe’s mouth twitched as well. “Dangerous?”
Instead of qualifying his question with an answer, she leaned in with a grim expression and asked, “Can you handle anything, Joe?”
His eyes shot to her friends, and he found their expressions were severe as well. “Define anything?”
“Bernice is a Wallflower. And with that distinction comes certain problems.”
Joe would have ignored her warning, but Devin and his friends nodded their heads in agreement.
Joe stiffened. “What kind of problems?”
“It’s more like trouble is waitin’ around the corner, ready to swoop her up,” Sienna explained.
Joe blinked and looked to Devin. “Define trouble?”
“Murder and mayhem,” Calla started before Devin could answer.
“Car chases with explodin’ trucks,” Sienna added.
“Kidnappin’ and aliens,” Poppy blurted out.
Joe’s attention shot to Poppy, then he raised a brow at her man. Nate grinned proudly at her response, wrapping an arm around her chest and pulling her into his body. He clearly enjoyed his woman’s sense of humor.
Eunice pushed through the young women with an exasperated sigh and made her own inspection of Joe while he tried to figure out if Poppy had been drinking. “Where do you hail from, Mr. Rouger?”
He tore his eyes away from the young women and answered, “Murfreesboro, Tennessee.”
“Do you. Do you still call it home?” she asked, wringing her hands.
He glanced at her nervous action then back at Bernice’s sister. “I do.” She nodded with a quick jerking motion, seemingly upset by his answer.
“I’m ready,” Bernice said from behind him, breezing up to their group with a smile. Joe turned and drew in a sharp breath. She’d changed into a Harley T-shirt and put her hair up in a ponytail. It should have looked wrong on her—she was too fresh-faced for the tee—but somehow, she made it work. Looking down at her feet to make sure she’d picked the right shoes, Joe smiled. She had on bright pink tennis shoes, almost the exact shade as her toenails.
Joe put out his hand for her to take. Bernice stared at it for a moment, then placed her soft hand in his. Warmth spread though his body like a shot of whiskey at the contact, and he
tightened his hold. He wouldn’t let her get away this time.
“Ladies,” he mumbled, nodding to the women, then he pulled Bernice behind him as he made his way to the door, determined to get her alone as soon as possible.
“Such a gentleman,” a voice whispered behind them.
Bernice chuckled in her sultry tones and looked up at Joe. He glanced at Devin and his friends and found they were smiling as well. He shook his head and glanced at Bernice. “Don’t count on it.” He grinned slowly when her eyes grew heavy at his implied threat.
Tugging her out the door with a quick flick of his wrist, Joe headed for his bike. He’d thought about having her on the back the whole way down to Tybee. About having her arms cinched tight around his waist and her legs pressed to his, as they wound their way down the coast.
He picked up the saddlebag he’d left behind and walked up to the front door of his rental. “I need to store this first.”
“Is this where you’re stayin’?”
“Yeah. I paid for a month.” He looked down at her as he pulled out the key he’d picked up on his way into town. “Though, I don’t think I’ll need a month to know.”
Bernice looked down and away, but he could see a flush coloring her cheeks. “Know what?”
He reached out and grabbed her chin, raising it until she looked him square in the eyes. “If the crab cakes on the island are as good as I’ve imagined.”
She shot him a knowing smirk. “Ray’s Tavern it is, then.”
Joe opened the door and tossed in his saddlebag, then locked it back up and dragged Bernice to his Harley. He pulled out a half helmet and leather jacket from his luggage rack. He’d bought the items specifically for Bernice before leaving Tennessee.
“Put this on.”
She complied while he drew on his own jacket, then he tossed his leg over his bike and waited for her to climb on before putting on his own helmet. The second her arms wrapped around his waist, he turned and slanted his head to capture her mouth again. She was caught off guard but took what he had to offer with enthusiasm, threading her fingers through his hair in a way that said she wanted to touch it.
