by Kay Lyons
“I have to admit I had my doubts and considered canceling, but this date has been a lot of fun.”
“Good. I’m glad you feel that way.” Bryan leaned back against the bench seat. “Although you seem very contemplative for a woman having fun.”
“Oh. Really?” Her laugh emerged high-pitched and telling. “Well, I guess tonight has…clued me in to a few things, that’s all.”
“What things?”
She shrugged. “Nothing major,” she hedged, uncomfortable. “Just that I need to get out more.”
“With me?” Bryan suggested with a wink.
Heat filled her face, but she didn’t acknowledge his question. Bryan was a nice guy. Handsome, gorgeous, but he wasn’t the guy she’d spent the evening thinking about.
“I’m also beginning to accept the fact Wilson is right, again, and that settling in and becoming a part of things in Taylorsville may be easier if I open my mind and allow myself to be stared at a bit so people can get to know me and vice versa.”
“Sounds good.” His smile widened. “What else?”
Once again voices rose behind her and she lifted a brow in question. “Maybe you should tell me. What’s the deal with the women in the corner?”
Bryan took a sip of his coffee, his eyes guarded while his face darkened. “You haven’t seen the newspaper?”
“Not unless it had paint drips on it.”
Bryan’s smile was off-kilter and world-weary. Every one of those women in the corner wanted to be the doctor’s wife and had quite happily discussed—in detail—what they’d be willing to do to achieve their goal.
And while some people might not see Bryan’s handsome looks and occupation as a problem, thanks to her waitressing days she knew what it was like to get hit on constantly by people who looked at her as if she were an object rather than a person. Big boobs, a decent set of features, and no family had made her an easy target…until she set them straight.
“So you did something newsworthy to earn all the attention?”
He flushed beneath the muted lights overhead. “Not quite newsworthy,” he muttered. “No, the newspaper recently came out with a contest. People had to write in and vote. Somehow I wound up winning a couple of the so-called awards and my life has been hell ever since.”
“What kind of awards?”
He leaned forward, his gaze not quite meeting hers. “Most Eligible Bachelor, Sexiest Doctor and…Best Butt.”
Ashley snickered.
He glared at her but the wry amusement in his features belied any true anger. “That’s good. Laugh, twist the knife deeper.”
“Bryan, oh my.” She snickered again. “So everywhere you go you get…them?” she asked, rolling her eyes quickly to indicate the group nearby.
He nodded. “Young, old, married or not,” he growled. “I’m shaking women out of my mattress.”
“Poor baby,” she crooned.
Bryan’s gaze promised retribution. And friendship. She liked that since it sort of reminded her of something an older brother would do.
Definitely not boyfriend material when you think of him like that.
And that thought confirmed the decision she’d come to during the course of the evening.
“It’s a hard life but someone’s got to do it,” she teased. “Might as well be you.”
“Thanks. So much for getting sympathy from you. I’d think you’d be a little more understanding.”
The women in the corner burst into laughter, drawing everyone’s gaze until it was obvious they were talking about him, and the restaurant’s occupants turned to stare at Bryan instead.
“Okay, I’ve had enough. What about you? Want to take a walk down by the river? Should be a nice breeze and I think there’s a band tonight. We can spread a blanket on the ground and listen.”
Ashley pulled her napkin from her lap and placed it on the table. “Sounds like fun. But if there’s a band I’ve gotta warn you—Max and I like to dance.”
Head down, he groaned. “Just my luck…in the spotlight again.”
* * *
ASHLEY ASSUMED Joe and Wilson were both asleep when she carried Max into the house. She tucked her son in his crib and turned on the monitor, but was too restless and wound up to go to bed herself. She grabbed the portable receiver from her room in case Max stirred and then slipped off her heels and padded barefoot to the front hallway. At the bottom of the stairs, she unlocked the front door and headed out onto the wraparound porch, her thoughts consumed by Joe and the realization she’d made tonight.
She didn’t like him. No, what she felt for Joe was much, much more. But what? Attraction and friendship didn’t begin to describe her feelings. She’d acknowledge both emotions, but what should she do about them?
Should she do anything?
“Better watch where you step.”
Ashley whirled at the sound of Joe’s voice, her gaze searching the darkness. He sat on the aged wooden planks, one leg stretched out in front of him, one drawn up to act as a prop for his arm. In the muted light of the moon she saw the glint of his eyes but couldn’t make out his expression.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She smiled. “No problem.”
He pointed a lazy finger toward the long driveway. “The doc’s got a nice car.”
Ashley put her hands behind her so the chipping paint of the porch rail wouldn’t snag her dress. “It was all right.” The nicest ride she’d ever been in, but who cared?
Mac’s death had hammered home the fact that money wasn’t everything.
She wet her dry lips. “Joe—”
“I’d better—”
They both stopped and stared. “You go first,” he said, his tone low, rasping over her skin like a trail of well-placed kisses.
Her thoughts flew to Bryan and the sweet, brotherly kiss he’d pressed to her cheek at the back door. She didn’t want sweet kisses. Not from Joe. And while she knew it was too soon to be thinking herself in love with him, tonight had cemented the fact she felt something for him she’d never felt before.
Something she didn’t want to lose.
Joe shoved himself to his feet and turned to leave.
“Don’t go.”
His broad shoulders squared, the breath hissed out of his throat. “If I stay I’ll…”
“What?” She stepped away from the railing, toward him, and thought she saw him tense even more. “You’ll what?” she pressed, laying a hand on his back. “Kiss me again?”
A long silence filled the air, broken only by the distant sound of traffic on the highway that led into town, the croak of bullfrogs in the pond just over the hill.
“What if I want you to?” she whispered. “What if I want you to kiss me?”
Joe turned just enough to glare at her over the shoulder she touched. In her bare feet she nearly met him eye to eye—nearly, but not quite. And although Mac had been taller, Joe was broader, more strongly built. Honed and hardened.
By prison.
“You deserve nice things like that car your date drove. Things I can’t give you.” He swore softly. “Ashley, I can’t give you anything right now because I have nothing to give.”
It wasn’t true, but she had no doubt Joe believed what he said. She inhaled deep, deeper, trying to fortify herself against the pull she felt from him. For him. The pain she saw in his eyes.
“Give me a walk in the moonlight.”
Joe’s hand covering hers, the baby monitor hanging from a strap on her wrist, she led him to the three wide steps that descended onto the sloping front yard. The grass was too long from her not having mowed it this week, but it was cool against her feet.
And with every step she noticed more and more. Little things. Important things. Like how the scent of honeysuckle tinged the air. How Joe’s work-roughened fingers slid against her own with every step they took. So opposite of Bryan’s soft, doctor hands, Joe’s were abrasive, yet just as gentle.
“Tell me about the scar,” she m
urmured finally.
A long moment passed. “Some guy tried to cut my throat with a shiv.” He laughed humorlessly. “It wasn’t from some heroic act if that’s what you were thinking.”
She swallowed at the image his words evoked. “The one by your mouth?”
The white of his teeth flashed briefly in the darkness. “My own fault. On a work detail my grip slipped and I landed on a rock in the fall.”
Her lips twisted and she sidled closer to him with a wry smile. “So I’m not the only clumsy one?”
This time his laugh was real. “No.”
They strolled awhile more in silence, down the slope of the hill at the side of the house. Unintentionally, or maybe subconsciously, she’d led them near the pond and the little screened-in shed Wilson had built for his wife so she’d accompany him when he came fishing.
She looked at Joe.
Ached.
She wanted to ease the pain Joe had suffered. Ease his sorrow and loss and give him comfort.
She was lonely, tired of carrying a heavy load and needed someone to share the burden.
And now she was here in this isolated place with a man who made her body heat just thinking about him.
But this was so much more than physical need, more than lust. In her younger, not-so-bright days before she and Mac, she’d rushed to satisfy those physical needs and regretted her impulsiveness later.
With Joe it was different. She knew it was different. Special. Nothing had ever felt so right. Her body seemed attuned to him. He’d saved her life, helped her daily, tolerated an old man neither of them were related to. And avoided her son because he so badly missed his daughter.
Those things—they were why she loved him.
As crazy as it sounded, she’d fallen in love with Joe and all it had taken was spending three meals a day with him. Working side by side with him. Hour after hour, day after day. They’d shared smiles and problems. Washed the dishes together. And even though it had taken years for her to recognize her love for Mac, it had only taken her weeks to love Joe.
“Ashley?”
She turned and pressed a finger to his lips, her mouth parting in sweet surprise when he immediately kissed the tip.
“I discovered something tonight,” she whispered, shivering at the heated look in his eyes. “Bryan was nice—”
Joe groaned and stepped away. “I won’t be a stand-in—”
“You’re not.” She followed him, her hands gripping the material of his shirt to hold him in place. “He was nice, Joe. And it was a nice, fun date, but my heart didn’t race when he kissed me good night. And I didn’t ache with wanting to feel his arms around me the whole time I sat across from him at dinner.”
Joe tensed, the muscles of his chest hard when she rested against him. “What I feel for you… I—” She inhaled. “I don’t know how to describe it yet. It’s all happened so fast and I’m not even sure it’s wise, but this feels—”
“Right,” he growled before dipping his head to kiss her. He stopped abruptly, his mouth hovering a scarce inch over hers. “It feels right, doesn’t it?”
Chapter 12
YES.” HER GAZE never wavered, knowing exactly what he needed to hear. “I want to move on, Joe. I’m ready. But I want to be with someone who understands me. Someone who knows what it’s like to be different in a town like Taylorsville. I want you.”
Her heart pounded so hard she imagined her body pulsed with it, but it matched the thudding tempo of his. She felt the rapid cadence through his shirt, the heat of him, the strength of his need. “I’ve seen how hard you work. Harder than I’ve asked you to,” she whispered. “Like you’re trying to prove something, prove your worth. I know that feeling.”
She slid her hand up his chest, over his shoulder to where she clasped the back of his neck. “I understand what it’s like to work and strive in an effort to gain approval. To dream. Want,” she breathed, finally giving in to the overwhelming need to brush her mouth against his.
It was a light, barely there kiss to make his arms tighten around her.
He tasted so good.
Joe’s chest rose and fell heavily. “What about Max? You need to be with someone who—”
“You’re not one of the statistics, Joe. Maybe I had my doubts at first, I admit it, but now…” She shook her head. “Maybe you can’t offer me fancy cars, but you can give me and Max other things. More important things.” A sad smile was all she could manage. “You learn a lot becoming a widow this early. From growing up the way that I did. You learn what really matters. And I’ll take a kind, hard-working man over material things any day.”
Joe stared at her a long moment, torn and shaken by her words. She believed in him. He saw it in her eyes, in the way she smiled.
He had to tell her the truth. Wanted to tell her, get it out into the open and pray she’d forgive him for not telling her all of it sooner. Pray she’d believe him when no one else did. For the first time in a long while, he was afraid.
“Ashley—”
She kissed him again. Not the brief, slight kiss of earlier, but hot and hard and sexy. One minute he could think and the next it was all he could do not to lower her to the grass. Her hands slid over his chest and arms as though she liked what she saw and couldn’t get enough.
“I’m not going to walk away when this is over, Ashley. There will be tough times ahead, but this—” He raised his hands to her face, cradled her cheeks in his palms and forced her to look at him. “This—”
She didn’t blink. “I know, Joe. Me, too.”
It was enough for now. The future with all its complexities could wait. Joe drew her close and pressed a kiss to her forehead, her cheek, the wide, sweet fullness of her mouth. He looked down and was even more turned on by the sight of her ringless hand. She’d removed her wedding band.
Pleasure filled him, hope.
“What’s wrong?”
Joe gently removed the monitor still strapped to her wrist. He carefully set it on the ground before straightening and taking her left hand in his. He stared down at her fingers, a frown on his face. He wasn’t an honorable hero, but he’d spend his days trying to be.
I’ll take care of them, Mac. You have my word.
Joe lifted her left hand to his mouth and kissed where the ring used to be. Her lips parted with a soundless gasp and he rushed to catch the end of it, pressing his lips to hers to seal their words with a promise.
The sound of the breeze rustling through the willows between the shed and the house faded into the background as he kissed her. The noise of frogs and crickets converged. But all Joe could concentrate on was Ashley’s sweet, heady sighs, the taste of her, feel of her against him.
Max’s whimper suddenly filled the air.
“Mmm, noooo. Oh, no.” Ashley’s shoulders shook. “I’m sorry.”
Joe smoothed her hair away from her face, and tried to ignore the way she looked. So beautiful and sweet and his every dream come true.
“He’s hungry.”
Max’s whimpers turned into cries that rose in volume with every breath.
“Go on. I’m right behind you.”
She flashed him a smile and left, scurrying up the hill away from the pond toward the house. Joe looked around and then seated himself on a lounge chair to stare at the moonlight rippling across the pond.
Ashley’s voice came over the airwaves.
Drawn, knowing he shouldn’t, he waited for Max’s story to begin.
* * *
OH, MAX,” ASHLEY’S VOICE sounded tinny and far away. “Somehow we’re going to have to work on your timing.”
Joe heard the rocking chair creak.
“Joe’s a good guy, you know that? Yes, he is. But I don’t want you to worry, Max. You’ll always be my little man.”
Max babbled in response and Joe smiled down at the monitor.
“But we have to help him. Because as much as I love Joe, you come first and if Joe can’t even bring himself to touch you because of losing
his little girl—”
Joe couldn’t breathe. She loved him? She loved him? But on the heels of that amazing realization came pain.
She knew about Josie.
He couldn’t hear the rest of her words due to the rush of blood past his ears.
“Joe loved his baby, Max. He may have been young, but when he looks at you, I see the pain. He’s hurting. But even though he’s hurting, and even though the sight of you probably brings back a lot of memories of his baby girl, he’s still here helping us. That says something, Max, don’t you think? I do. I think it means a lot. I think it means he’s one of the good guys.”
Joe rubbed his eye with his palm. Things were such a mess and without a doubt, he knew Wilson was involved. The old man had obviously told Ashley bits and pieces, but not the whole truth. And while Ashley understood his loss and pain, that would change once she discovered the so-called truth.
She’d never understand. Would never believe he’d kept the truth from her in the hopes she’d grow to see him as he is, rather than what people believe him to be.
She thought he’d hired on with honorable intentions, when the reality was she was the only one willing to hire him. Period.
And once she found out about Josie’s death, all the love in the world wouldn’t matter because she’d never look at him the same again.
Still, he had to tell her. Somehow. Before someone else did.
He owed her that.
Joe leaned back against the lounge chair, his thumb finding the switch on the side of the monitor to turn it off. He didn’t have the right to listen in, to enjoy the mother-son bonding moment instead of working up the courage to tell her the truth.
He tried to picture the scene. She’d automatically smile at him as he entered the room, sweet and seductive after what had just happened, then hurt and horror would dawn on her face.
She’d hate him.
Joe shoved himself to his feet and he paced to the end of the small shack, banged his fist against a wood beam.
God above, he needed help, guidance. He didn’t want to hurt her, and he had no right to let her think he was something he wasn’t.
