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She clung to him, burying her head against his shoulder, letting him absorb her anger and hurt. The roar of the ocean slamming against the rocks seemed to echo her pain.
Once her energy was spent and her sobs turned to sniffles, she eased away, keeping her head lowered in embarrassment. He would have none of it. He tucked his index finger beneath her chin, raised her head and met her eyes.
“It’s all right,” he said.
A slight smile trembled at the corners of her mouth, and she nodded.
“I give up.” The words were half whisper and half groan. As soon as he said them, he lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was slow and deep, so deep she felt it all the way to her toes. Intense, yet incredibly tender.
After a moment Josh slid his fingers into her short hair, cupping the sides of her head as he angled his mouth over hers, urging her lips apart with the tip of his tongue. He sighed when, in a daze, she accepted his invitation and opened for him. Shyly her tongue met his, but gradually she gained confidence as the kissing continued. What had begun as a slow easy exercise quickly became demanding and urgent.
She wasn’t sure what would have happened if a car hadn’t pulled off the highway just then. Hearing the sound of wheels grinding against the gravel, Josh broke off contact. He studied her for a moment.
“You OK?” he asked, touching his forehead to hers while holding her face between his hands.
She nodded, not knowing how else to answer him. But she wasn’t OK. She’d been weeping for one man and kissing another. And liking it so much she hadn’t wanted to stop. She glared at the new arrivals, wishing they would leave, then realized how ridiculous she was being.
“We better get back on the road,” Josh said, steering her toward the Harley.
Although she followed him silently, her mind brewed with half-formed questions. First and foremost she wanted to know what had prompted him to kiss her. She didn’t want his pity, but at the same time, she knew she would be a fool to believe any part of that soul-stirring kiss had been because he felt sorry for her.
Once she was safely tucked behind him on the Harley, he started the bike and steered them back onto the road. The wind whipped against her face, and she closed her eyes. Josh was dangerous—that was what she’d always heard. Now she knew why. The danger wasn’t his arrogance, the way he challenged authority or defied danger. It was the effortless way he could make a woman feel desirable.
They didn’t stop again for what seemed like hours. The day before she had held herself away from Josh, her spine rigid, determined to minimize any physical contact. Not so now. Her grip around his waist was tight; she craved the physical reassurance of his solid body.
Josh stopped in Tillamook when they hit a red light. “You hungry?” he asked.
She realized, somewhat to her surprise, that she was. “Yeah, I guess I am.” Then, knowing their finances were limited, she asked, “What can we afford?”
“Cheese.”
“Cheese?” While she knew neither one of them had a lot of cash, she didn’t think they were in dire straits.
“Some of the best in the country. I’ll show you.”
Tillamook was home to a huge dairy-products factory. She smiled and flattened her cheek against his back, grateful to have him for a friend. It felt good and right to be this close to him. Her entire four years of college, she’d barely talked to him. By any reasonable measure they were little more than strangers, yet she felt closer to him after these two days together than she did to some of her sorority sisters with whom she’d lived for years.
Josh turned left at the next light and then pulled into a large bustling parking lot. The building was enormous, complete with gift shop, touring areas, and plenty of free samples of a surprisingly large selection of cheeses and ice cream. He purchased a box of crackers, some cheese and a bottle of red wine.
“For a picnic,” he explained, as they headed back to the bike. He smiled, and it was such a rare thing it caught her unawares.
“You should do that more often,” she said, as she fastened the strap of her helmet. At the question in his eyes, she said, “Smile.”
His response was to frown, drawing his thick eyebrows together and darkening his face. Not for the first time, she was struck by what an attractive man he was. She wasn’t alone, either. In the cheese factory, she had noticed a number of women openly assessing him. Apparently they liked what they saw. For his part, he appeared oblivious to the attention his looks generated.
Seeing him now, wearing that well-practiced scowl, she couldn’t help it, she laughed outright. It was all for show. Beneath that dark brooding exterior lay a man with a kind and generous heart. A man she was only beginning to know, yet already liked immensely.
“What?” he demanded.
“You. Let’s get moving, pal. I’m hungry.”
He grumbled something she couldn’t hear under his breath and climbed on the Harley. Without hesitation, she positioned herself behind him and automatically locked her arms around his middle. It felt so right and natural to be close to him. Less than twenty-four hours earlier she’d made the most daring move of her life by trusting him to deliver her home safely. And trust him she did, more with each passing hour.
Josh found them a quiet corner on a secluded section of beach. The afternoon was glorious. The ocean breeze was blessedly cool, and a thicket of tall grass rustled softly behind them.
They sat on the blanket, nibbling the cheese and crackers, and sipping the wine from plastic glasses. After a while, replete, Gretchen lay on her back and gazed at the sky. She was amazed by how tranquil, how at peace, she felt. Stretching her arms above her, she smiled lazily. All she could hear were the waves pounding the shore and the frantic cries of gulls.
The wine seemed to have loosened her inhibitions—at least that was what she blamed for the path her thoughts were traveling.
“Josh, can I ask you something?” she said.
An uncomfortable silence followed. Uncomfortable enough to cause her to turn her head and look at him. He was sitting with his arms braced behind him. “You don’t want me to ask you anything?” Surely he would want to know the question and then decide if he would answer it.
His frown was back, darker and more intimidating than ever. “Are you looking for me to apologize for kissing you?”
“No!” If he did, she would be offended. Her response to his kiss had been relegated to the far reaches of her mind. She needed time to analyze what had prompted her heady reaction, but she wasn’t up to a lengthy examination just yet.
“What, then?” He crossed his arms.
She closed her eyes and angled her face toward the sun rather than look at him. “Never mind,” she said, silently laughing at him. “It wasn’t important.”
“Ask me,” he barked.
She rolled onto her stomach and trained her gaze on the ocean. “It has to do with Didi Wilson.”
“What about her?”
Gretchen paused, unsure now that she wanted to proceed, but the need burned within her, and she knew she wouldn’t be completely at peace until she discovered the answer. Besides, at this point she couldn’t walk away from the subject gracefully. She inhaled and held her breath momentarily. “I realize it’s none of my business…”
“Listen, if it has to do with Didi and Roger, I’d rather not—”
“No,” she said, interrupting him. “Not them. This has to do with Didi and you.” Her words were like a hatchet coming down on a chopping block.
His gaze pinned her. She exhaled sharply and blurted, “Have you…did you and Didi…you know…do that?” She couldn’t make herself say the words. Make love. Did you make love to Didi? Her heart was laid open, exposed, revealing everything. Over the past six months she’d frequently seen Didi riding through the campus on the back of Josh’s Harley. Her arms had squeezed him, her ample assets pressed against his back.
Now she knew that Josh hadn’t been Didi’s only love interest. With a shock, she realized that while the news of Didi and Roger had shattered her world, if she learned that Josh had been Didi’s lover, as well, she would be devastated. She should have known better than to ask a question when she was afraid of the answer.
“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to know,” she said hurriedly, then leaped to her feet, kicked off her shoes and raced toward the surf. Her face burned with humiliation, but she had no one to blame but herself. She raced into the ocean, gasping at how cold it was. The surf surged against her thighs before she stopped running. Her pulse pounded in her temple.
“Gretchen!”
She heard Josh call, but she ignored him. The lunch that had made her feel so pleasantly replete now felt like a rock-hard lump in the pit of her stomach.
“Come on, Gretchen, would you listen to me?” He stood at the water’s edge, glaring at her.
“I shouldn’t have asked,” she said. “It was none of my business. Please, I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” She pranced about in the shallows, trying to make him think she was having the time of her life.
“Stop that right now.” It was the same tone of voice her father used to employ with her when she was a child and misbehaving. A tone full of authority she didn’t challenge.
She stopped playing in the surf and faced him.
“Didi’s my friend,” he said. “Nothing more. Never has been and never will be. Understand?”
She nodded miserably.
Josh extended his hand to her in much the same way he had the day before, when he’d invited her to climb onto the back of his motorcycle. “Come here before you’re completely drenched.”
The water was so cold her feet had gone numb. Mustering every shred of dignity she possessed, she remained where she was, her chin angled high and proud. How desperately she longed to believe him!
“Don’t make me come in after you.”
“Would you?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes, but trust me, you’d regret it.”
The threat was as bold as the man himself. “Really?” She reached down and with feigned nonchalance dangled her fingers in the water.
The challenge was there, bold as ever. The confidence he’d exuded didn’t waver as he lowered himself onto the hot sand and removed his boots one at a time. Then he stood and unfastened his belt.
“Josh.” She watched, fascinated.
“I’m not getting these jeans wet. It’s uncomfortable riding in wet pants.” He peeled down the zipper and hooked his thumbs through the belt loops, clearly prepared to remove both his jeans and his underwear.
“Okay, okay. You win.” She raced out of the surf and onto the beach, heading for the blanket. She heard him chuckle and call her a coward as she passed him.
His taunts evolved into a sexy smile as he followed her back to the blanket. It had been a childish thing to do, she thought, challenging him that way. Especially when the outcome had already been decided. Josh would win because he always won.
Soon they were back on the road again, breezing down the highway, soaking up the sunshine and scenery. And she realized he was right. It was uncomfortable riding in wet jeans.
The sun was just beginning to set by the time they reached Newport. Dozens of mammoth kites of various colors and designs battled the wind, rising and plummeting on the fickle fancy of the currents. Campfires flickered here and there along the beach, competing in color with the setting sun.
Gretchen was tired, more tired than she wanted to admit, even to herself. They hadn’t traveled nearly as far as Josh had hoped they would, but then, they’d gotten a late start and taken two hours out for a picnic lunch.
Josh parked the Harley and reached for her hand once they’d stored the helmets. “Let’s get you a hotel room tonight.”
She didn’t miss the implication. While she was nestled up warm in a bed, he would be sleeping on the beach. Alone and cold.
“Hey, I go where you go,” she said.
His eyebrows shot up. “Is that an invitation to your bed?”
She blushed. “No.”
“Pity.” He grinned at her.
Josh teasing? Josh joking? His brief smile went a long way toward lightening her spirits. “You’re nothing but a big phony,” she declared.
His gaze narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Beneath that he-man exterior, you’re a pussycat.”
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t count on it, if I were you.”
“But I already am.”
Once again she found Josh grinning as he located a quiet spot on the beach, one protected from the elements as well as the curious stares of others. Soon they had a fire of their own blazing away. While he unpacked their things, Gretchen smoothed an area of sand and spread the blanket over it. Silently they worked together as a team, then sat down in front of the fire.
“Why’d you want to get me a hotel room?” she asked. They had a wonderful spot on the beach, she realized. The weather was great, and she was as comfortable here as she would be on any bed.
He didn’t answer, and Gretchen, puzzled, glanced at him. “You assumed I need to be pampered, right?” It irked her that he would think that, and her tone told him as much. People often assumed that, because her family was wealthy, she’d been spoiled and coddled her whole life. Certainly she’d been given opportunities that weren’t available to most people her age, but her parents had never overindulged her.
Josh shook his head. “When I first met you, I assumed you’d be another one of those spoiled rich kids, but you’ve proved otherwise.”
She was pleased. Pleased enough to forget her inhibitions, lean over and kiss him. The action had been purely instinctive, without forethought.
He leaned back in surprise. “What was that for?”
“To thank you for the compliment.”
“I complimented you?”
Willing to admit her weariness now, she let her body rest against his, her head on his shoulder. After a time he put his arm around her, and she smiled, utterly content.
“Tell me about your family,” she said lazily. If she hadn’t been propped against him, she might not have felt the tension shoot through him. His back went rigid, and his arms stiffened slightly. She’d done it again. Just when it seemed they were comfortable with each other she’d said something to upset the delicate balance. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten that his father was in prison and he didn’t want to talk about it. “Josh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just that my own family is so much a part of me.”
He didn’t respond for what seemed like an eternity, and when he did speak, his voice was gruff with emotion. “My mother died when I was sixteen.” His hand stroked her upper arm, as if he needed the reassurance of human contact.
Gretchen placed a hand over his. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“It happens. My dad was never the same. It was as if he couldn’t bear the agony of losing her, so he chose to self-destruct. He’s serving time, as you know.” He didn’t elaborate, and she didn’t ask. Instead, she brought his hand to her face and gently laid her cheek against it.
“A lot of people wonder how I landed at Queen Anne,” he continued, his voice close to her ear. “My grandfather left me money in the form of a trust, the condition being that, if I wanted a college education, I attend his alma mater.”
“Do you want a college education?”
His short laugh was without humor. “I went, didn’t I?”
All evidence she’d seen to this point said he wanted anything but what Queen Anne had to offer. Josh constantly challenged authority. He appeared to go out of his way to cause trouble. Why, only the day before he had given Roger the incentive and opportunity to end his college career right as he was about to graduate. And it would be just like Roger to make whatever trouble he could for Josh and delight in it.
“Why’d you do it?” she asked, changing the subject. “Why’d you slug Roger? He’ll go out of his way to use it against you.”
“Let him,” Josh answered. “I can deal with it.”
“But—”
“The bastard deserved it.”
That much Gretchen agreed with. It had been all she could do not to cheer when she saw Roger’s bloody nose. Especially after he’d attempted to sucker-punch Josh.
