скачать книгу бесплатно
By a woman? She hadn’t considered that before. That Joe might be involved. But why should she consider it? And why should she care?
She glanced again at the sign. Sleep at Joe’s. Clever. And something that two days ago she was certain she’d never do again.
The ball of her foot landed on a sharp-edged rock. She hissed in a breath, her limp more pronounced as she approached her car. Suddenly she caught a whiff of something fruity and her stomach perked up. She and Joe hadn’t talked about meals—they hadn’t really talked logistics at all. His earlier recommendation of the diner probably meant she was on her own, food-wise.
Though judging by today, she might be on her own. Period.
Supposedly Joe was looking for payback, but he hadn’t seemed to get much of a kick out of Allison on her hands and knees in filth. And she’d thought for sure he’d enjoy mocking her reaction to the mouse. Instead he’d taken it in stride. Well, mostly.
With a frown, she rummaged through the glove compartment. Nothing edible. She sighed. Next on the agenda? Find a supermarket. And put M&M’s at the top of her list. She needed all the help she could get dealing with not only Tackett and Joe, but her mother’s pleas for money.
And the next time Beryl Kincaid called, Allison would let voice mail do its thing. She might get more sleep that way. Because she knew that if her mother had her way, they’d both be living out of Allison’s car.
She shut the car door just as a dusty blue oversize pickup pulled into the lot and parked beside her. Joe. Allison curled her toes into the pavement, feeling suddenly naked. He rounded the hood of his truck, a mouthwatering package of muscle, denim and shadowed jaw. Considering he had eyes only for her Toyota, she obviously didn’t have the same pulse-pounding effect on him.
Which was good. Great, in fact. Things were complicated enough.
Still, it smarted.
“I meant to ask.” Joe hitched a thumb at her car. “What happened to the Beemer?”
She shoved her fingers into her back pockets. She didn’t want to lie. But she didn’t want to tell the truth, either. “Got something against Camrys?”
He looked as if he wanted to say more, then shrugged. “Didn’t see you at the diner.”
“It’s been a while since I last pulled up fifty-year-old carpet. I had a hard enough time getting in and out of the shower.”
Instantly she regretted her provocative words, but Joe didn’t take the unintentional bait. Though why should he? Their bantering days were long gone. He merely nodded, then turned back to his truck. Moments later he held up a crisp white bag.
“I brought you a sandwich.”
“Ham?”
“Extra pickles.”
Her mouth watered. She squinted. “In exchange for...”
“An answer. To one question.”
“Do I get to ask one, too?”
“Did you bring me dinner?”
They stared at each other over the roof of her car. In his eyes she could see that bitterness she’d been wondering about. She sighed.
“Let me guess. You want to know if it bothers me. That Tackett’s basically holding my future for ransom. Am I right?” An incline of his head signaled that she’d guessed correctly. Her gaze dropped to the bag in his hand. “You realize you’re doing the exact same thing.”
“There’s a difference between two weeks and an entire career. And unlike Tackett, I honor my word. After I’ve served my four weeks he’ll ask for more. He’ll offer a bonus if I stay, forget to pay me if I don’t. I won’t be staying. You shouldn’t, either.”
“So now you’re looking out for me. How very—” Wait a minute. She pushed away from the car, a blush of fury scorching her from head to toe. “You want me to quit. To get back at the old man. Or are you hoping you won’t have me to deal with once you’re there?” When he didn’t answer she swallowed against a pang of...something...and glowered. “You don’t like that question? Fine. Here’s another one.”
A muscle car drove past the motel, engine growling, radio blaring an energetic song. Allison blinked back inexplicable tears.
“Were you and Danielle lovers?” she asked.
Joe took his time positioning the bag on the hood of her car. When he looked back up his face had lost all expression. “We were barely friends.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“No. We were never lovers. I had you. I didn’t need anyone else.”
She released the breath she’d been holding, but the pressure in her chest didn’t ease. She turned away. “Good night, Joe.”
“You forgot your sandwich, Allison.”
It would be churlish to refuse, though her appetite had vanished. At least he’d stopped calling her by her last name. When he did that he sounded like Tackett.
She reached for the bag. So did he. He didn’t let go. Instead he held out his free hand. “Truce?”
“So this is a bribe.”
“More like a peace offering.” When she hesitated he wiggled his fingers. “Come on. I’m not asking to be friends. You don’t want to be here and I don’t want to go back. But we’re stuck with each other. And two weeks is a long time to trade dirty looks. So what do you say? Truce?”
“Well.” It was easier just to give in. She put her hand in his. “You did say extra pickles.”
* * *
“JOE?” NO ANSWER. Another rap of her knuckles on the glass, but the lobby remained dark. Damn. She had no way of knowing whether he’d already gone to bed or just couldn’t hear her knock. And she’d never thought to ask for his cell number.
She shivered in the cool night air and glanced around. At each end of the motel lurked a tall, skinny pole, the beams from the lights at the top casting broad puddles of pale yellow onto the broken pavement. The light glinted off the windshield of Joe’s truck. He was definitely here.
She drew in a resolute breath and marched around the side of the building. The sooner they got this settled, the better.
The dew-damp grass slicked her toes, making her feet slide in her flip-flops, every step a rubbery squeak. She hesitated at the corner—no lights back here but for the dim bulb over the door. A pair of moths flirted with the scrawny light, making tiny little pings whenever they connected with the glass.
She yanked at the hem of her top, skirted the wooden box that protected his garbage cans and stepped onto the slab of cement that served as a porch.
Nothing but darkness on the other side of the square window in the door. For God’s sake, it was only ten o’clock. He’d always been a night owl—surely he couldn’t have changed that much?
Then again, there didn’t seem to be a lot to do in Castle Creek. Especially after dark. Except maybe— Allison’s breathing hitched and a prickling heat swept across her skin. An image of what Joe could very well be doing in the dark had her snatching her hand away from the door and stumbling back a step.
After her encounter with the mouse, Joe had said he had to go help a friend. Maybe that friend was female? And maybe she was in his apartment at this very moment, in his bed, and they were shaking their heads at the idiot outside who couldn’t take a hint?
Embarrassment shoved her back another step and she started to turn away. Then suddenly he was there, looming on the other side of the windowpane. Not naked. Not from the waist up, anyway. The door swung inward.
“Come in before the moths do,” he said.
She hesitated. Something in his voice... His hair was rumpled, his feet bare and he wore sweatpants and a T-shirt—clothes that could be pulled on in a matter of seconds.
Or off.
She blinked away an unwanted memory. “I don’t want to interrupt...anything. You alone?”
“Mostly.”
She started to ask what that was supposed to mean when she heard the kitten, meowing softly in the background. Funny guy. She gave a half shrug and sidled past, holding her breath so she wouldn’t breathe in the scent of bed-warmed male.
He shut the door behind her and turned, hand still on the knob. “There a problem?”
“Could you turn off the light?”
“Come again?”
It took real effort to keep her mind from going in an X-rated direction. For God’s sake, Allie, grow up. “The outdoor light. Those poor moths.”
He stretched a hand to the wall. The room went black. Allison blinked and thrust out her hands, feeling suddenly off-kilter.
Asking him to turn off the light might have been a mistake. Still, she couldn’t get that pinging noise out of her head.
“Anything else I can do for you?”
Damn that “throw me to the floor” voice of his. “I know it’s late, but I hoped we could talk.”
“No.”
She frowned in the abrupt silence. Then the refrigerator gurgled and she found her voice. “It won’t take long.”
“Not gonna happen.”
Huh. So maybe “mostly” alone didn’t involve the kitten, after all. Maybe “mostly” meant his date was asleep. Or maybe Allison needed to remember that just because they’d declared a truce, it didn’t mean he was happy she was here in Castle Creek.
She clamped her teeth together. “Fine. We’ll talk in the morning. Sorry I bothered you.”
“My answer will be the same when the sun comes up.” A whisper of fabric—she imagined him folding his arms across his chest. “I mean, I’m assuming you’re here to wriggle out of our deal, right?”
“I didn’t come to wriggle out of anything. I came to have a rational conversation. But obviously this isn’t a good time.” She took a step toward the door. He didn’t move. She blew out an impatient breath. “If you don’t get out of my way I can’t get out of your hair.”
“I can offer more than conversation.”
A mingling of anger and longing sapped the strength from her knees. Had she considered him funny at one time? Try hateful. She sneaked a step to the left and sagged against the counter. Not one of her better ideas, coming here at this hour. Though she wouldn’t admit to it now, she actually had hoped to talk Joe into letting her leave. Now all she wanted to do was scuttle back to her room and lock herself in.
“If you mean coffee,” she managed, “I’m in. Anything else and you’re out of your mind.” Like me.
He grunted, but that was all the reaction she got. His breathing remained steady—unlike hers. She let her hands slap back against her sides.
“Are we really going to just stand here in the dark?”
“I like the dark. It hides a multitude of sins.” When she didn’t—couldn’t—respond, he laughed softly. “Follow me.”
He paused beside her, and ran his fingers down her arm to her wrist, the heat of his touch suggesting an erotic promise she almost wished he could keep. He tugged lightly. She let him lead her out of the kitchen and down the hallway, past a tiny bathroom to the seating area she’d caught a glimpse of before. He let go of her wrist and pressed a palm to her back, encouraging her to cross the threshold.
A rickety-looking card table sat in front of a pair of windows overlooking the field behind the motel. On top of the table sat a bronzed, bottom-heavy lamp, which shed its light on a thick book of crosswords, a mason jar full of pencils, a clear glass tumbler and a half-empty bottle of whiskey. A cold, crawling bleakness filled her belly. She wandered into the center of the room then slowly turned. He watched her, his mouth forming an arrogant slant, his navy eyes glazed with a falseness she’d learned to despise a year ago.
“You’ve been drinking.” Inwardly she winced at the accusation in her voice. None of your business. Not anymore. Still, she couldn’t help mourning the day-old hope that just that moment unwound itself from around her heart and slunk away. She took a breath and added quietly, “I thought you’d given it up.”
“I gave up getting drunk. Drinking? Not so much.”
She jerked her chin at the bottle of Glenlivet. “This is what you meant when you said you weren’t alone.”
He shrugged. “I’m guessing I don’t need to hunt up a second glass.”
A mewling sound. They both looked down in time to see the kitten launch herself at Joe’s leg. He bent and plucked her free of his sweatpants, cradled her in his arms and scratched her belly. A soft, satisfied rumbling filled the room.
Allison swallowed, but the ache in her throat refused to recede. An overwhelming sadness crowded her chest, pressing painfully against her heart, and she shook her head.
“I can’t do this again. I won’t do this again.”
“If you’re talking about renovating it’s obvious you’ve never done it before.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” She strode back to the doorway but Joe stayed put. Why hadn’t she realized the moment he’d opened the door? The moment he’d spoken? She could have left then, instead of finding herself in the position of having to bluff her way past him.
“Excuse me,” she said briskly. “I have to pack.”
“You leave, I stay.”
Damn him. “You gave your word.”
“So did you.”
“When I thought you were sober.”
“Does it matter? We made no stipulations.”
“We did, actually. Something about keeping your hands to yourself?”
He took his time looking her over, from her flip-flops to her brand-new jeans to the baby doll pajama top she hadn’t bothered exchanging for a shirt. His gaze seemed to settle on her shoulders, and she found herself wishing stupidly that she’d taken the time to brush her hair. She was worse than pathetic.
“Just so we’re clear,” he drawled, “the same doesn’t apply to you.”
Despite herself, despite...everything...a heated thrill of remembered pleasure zinged straight from her heart to her belly. Stop that. She struggled to focus on all the long-ago nights she’d been desperate to touch him, to lose herself in his caresses, but instead had lain frozen and aching on her side of the bed. Why? Because he’d been too drunk to realize she was there, let alone to make love to her.
Did he really think it would be that easy? Did he think it was even an option?
You’ve thought about it, too. She had. Of course she had. At one time they’d been good together. Very good. And as different as he’d seemed to be...
Now she knew that only his appearance had changed. And that he’d found a new hobby. Everything else that counted had stayed the same.
“Is this part of the plan? Seduce the woman who plotted against you? Make her fall for you all over again so she’ll beg you to let her stay? Then of course you’ll respond with, ‘Sorry, my sweet. Offer expired. Let me get the door.’” She tipped her head. “I can see the poetic justice.”
