A Town Called Valentine: A Valentine Valley Novel (2 page)

He leaned over her, and she fell back, body arched beneath him, moaning again as he began to trail kisses down her jaw, then her neck. His big hands cupped her shoulders as he held her in place, her own hands clasped his head to her as if she would never let him go.

Deep inside, a whisper grew louder, that this was wrong. Another languid voice said no, they both wanted this, just a little while longer . . .

His mouth lightly touched the center V of her sweater; his hands cupped her ribs, his thumbs riding the outer curves of her breasts. The anticipation was unbearable; she wanted to writhe even as his hand slid up and over her breast as if feeling its weight. His thumb flicked across her nipple, and she jerked with pleasure. His hips were hard against hers, her legs spread to encompass him . . .

On a pool table, where anyone could walk into the back room and see them. The thrill of danger and excitement receded as guilt and worry rose up like hot bubbling water.

She was leading him on; he probably thought he could take her home and—

Torn between passion and mortification, she stiffened. “No,” she whispered. Then louder, “No, please stop.”

His hand froze, his head lifted until their eyes met.

She bit her lip, knowing she looked pathetic and remorseful and guilty. “I can’t do this. Our bet was only for a kiss.”

As he let his breath out, he straightened, pulling her up with him. He stayed between her thighs, watching her mouth. “Are you sure?” he whispered.

When she nodded, he stepped back as she jumped off the table. She stood there a moment, feeling shaky and foolish.

“I should go,” she said, turning away and heading back to the bar.

At her table, she couldn’t bear to wait for her bill, knowing that the bartender and the two dart players might have heard her moan. Her face was hot, her hands trembled, and she prayed that the TV had been loud enough. She threw down far more money than was probably necessary, but she just couldn’t face the bartender. Grabbing her raincoat off the hook, she ran out into the rain, jumped into her car, and sat there, feeling so stupid. She’d never done anything like that in her life. That man—Nate, she remembered—must think her the worst tease.

After a minute’s fumbling in the depths of her purse, she found her keys and slid them into the ignition. The car tried to turn over several times, but nothing happened. Emily closed her eyes and silently prayed.
Please, not now.

She turned the ignition again, and although the engine strained once or twice, it wouldn’t start. She stared out the rain-streaked windshield at the glowing sign for Tony’s Tavern. She couldn’t go back in there. Her brain was fuzzy from too much alcohol as she tried to remember what she’d driven past when she left the highway. A motel perhaps? She’d been so worried about her car and the pouring rain and her growling stomach. How far could she walk at midnight in a strange town in a storm?

With a groan, she closed her eyes, feeling moisture from the rain trickle down her neck.

Chapter Two

N
ate Thalberg felt perfectly steady on his feet, though still hot under the collar, as he turned off the light in the back room and reentered the bar. Three pairs of eyes fixed on him. Tony De Luca’s were the first to drop as he smiled and continued to dry a tall glass before hanging it on the rack above the bar. The other two men, twin brothers Ned and Ted Ferguson, plumbers for Sweet Construction, were a good ten years older than him and long past their pickin’-up-women-in-bars prime. But they still snickered.

Nate ignored them and sat down at the bar. “Another Dale’s.”

“You might as well head to Aspen if you’re going to drink that stuff,” Tony said, his usual response. He set the bottle before Nate without another word.

Nate was grateful. He was still aroused and embarrassed and feeling like a fool, all at the same time. He hadn’t behaved like that since college, and that was almost ten years ago. Of course, he hadn’t left Valentine Valley much since then, and he was careful about picking up a local woman in a bar. He knew them all, and all their relatives. A little fun wasn’t worth what would happen the next day, the assumptions of what he owed them, the way they’d look at him as if he were their newly acquired property. Nope, when he went out with a woman, and that happened regularly enough, she knew exactly where she stood with him. And it wasn’t on the road to any sort of relationship.

But he’d come into Tony’s after a long day riding in the White River National Forest checking the herd. Once it would have been enjoyable to hang with his brother and talk about nothing and everything. But lately, he and Josh had clashed over minor things, and every physical exertion ended up being a contest of wills. It made for a long, frustrating day.

Tonight Nate had needed some peace. He knew Tony could be quiet, at least when he didn’t have a hockey stick in his hand. So he’d come to the tavern to enjoy the rest of the baseball game.

Until
she’d
shown up. Emily. Every other man at Tony’s had stared at her, however briefly, and he hadn’t wanted to be one of those. But she’d had this pink raincoat on, and when she’d taken it off at the door, her black sweater had ridden up an inch at her waist, and her long strawberry blond hair curled damply near her neck. She was short and curvy in all the right places, and when she’d looked around at the nearly empty bar with wide but tired blue eyes, something in him had paid a bit too much attention.

Remembering how he’d stared at her, unable to stop, he took another swig of beer in disgust. He was weak.

“That should be your last,” Tony said, leaning back against the shelf near the cash register. “You have to drive.”

Before Nate could take offense, Tony glanced with a frown at the door. “Maybe I should have stopped her, too.”

“Emily,” Nate said without thinking.

Tony grinned. “At least you got her name. Or did you get more?”

Nate winced and sighed. “Nope. Shouldn’t have been trying for more.”

“She seemed willing to me.”

“And tipsy. I shouldn’t have—”

The door jangled, and Nate automatically turned to look. Emily stepped back inside, rain dripping down her coat, her fingers gripping her purse.

Without looking at Nate, she said coolly to Tony, “My car won’t start, and I’m not certain who to call for a tow. Could you please give me a name?”

Tony walked to the end of the bar. “Sorry, but Ernie won’t come at night if it’s not an emergency.”

“Oh.”

Nate thought she looked blank for a moment, as if it never occurred to her that there were parts of the country where you couldn’t have what you asked for twenty-four hours a day.

She took a deep breath, still not glancing at Nate. “Then if you could call me a taxi, I’d appreciate it.”

“It’s too late,” Nate said quietly.

“Pardon me?” She met his eyes at last.

He felt a jolt of need. Damn, but she still affected him even though he regretted their little game and his lack of control. And then she bit her plump lower lip, making everything worse.

“Only one taxi driver in Valentine Valley,” Tony explained with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Let me guess,” Emily said with a touch of bitterness. “He only comes at night if it’s an emergency.”

“She,” Nate said reluctantly.

Her posture seemed to slump as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He’d smelled that hair, tasted the skin on her neck. He stirred on the barstool, wishing he could adjust himself. And it had been his stupid idea to head back to the pool room.

“Since you’re not from around here,” Tony said, “there’s a motel just down the block.”

Nate could see her jaw clench from across the room.

“I own a building in town,” she finally said. “I need to get there.”

Tony and Nate shared a surprised glance. Both of them knew just about everybody—and every building—in town. Who was this Emily?

“I can drop you off,” Nate offered. It was the least he could do.

She studied him, wariness in her narrowed eyes. “If you can tell me how to get—”

“You can’t walk there in this,” Tony interrupted. “You can trust Nate to take you, regardless of what happened in the back room.”

Her eyes shut as she grimaced. Ned and Ted Ferguson gave another matching set of snickers.

Nate frowned. He could see Emily’s blush like a beacon. He glared at the brothers, and they both hunched their shoulders and turned back to the game.

“But first,” Tony continued. “I’ve just brewed a fresh pot of coffee. Nate, how ’bout something to eat?”

He was just about to protest that he was not drunk, but then he remembered kissing a woman he didn’t know a thing about. “Sounds good.”

Emily perched on a chair closest to the door. “Thank you. I’ll wait.”

Tony served him some fajitas with the coffee, and although Nate offered her some, she didn’t leave the safety of her chair, making him feel even more like a monster. After a half hour, he quietly said, “Guess it’s time to leave, Tony.”

Tony smiled and glanced at Emily. “I might have to call you tomorrow.”

“There’ll be nothing to report.” He stood up and slid on his jacket.

Emily waited by the door, wincing as she peered out at the rain.

He opened it and gestured. “After you.”

He ran toward the pickup as rain dripped off the edges of his hat. He followed her to open the door, but she veered toward her own car first and tried to lug a suitcase out of the trunk. He grabbed it out of her hand, opened the truck door, and slid it onto the rear bench. She was short enough that she had trouble getting up inside, and he almost boosted her up by the ass but figured she wouldn’t appreciate it. He ran to his side and hopped in, and the slam of both doors echoed in the rain-drumming silence. He started the pickup and quickly rolled up the partially opened window, swearing again at the rain that streaked the inside of his door.

At the soft “woof” from the backseat, Emily gave a little cry. Scout stuck his black-and-white nose over the seat and sniffed at her. Nate held back a smile as she sagged against the door with a shudder.

“Afraid of dogs?” he asked.

“No, but he startled me.” She eyed Scout. “Does he like strangers?”

“Yep.”

She put out her hand, palm up, and within a second, Scout turned traitor and happily licked her before settling down again next to her suitcase on the bench seat.

“What’s his name?” she asked.

“Scout.”

With a sigh, Emily buckled herself in, then sat facing forward, hands in her lap. When Nate didn’t put the truck in gear, she glanced at him with a frown. He could sense the tension as if it were a force field around her.

“So where are you going?” he asked.

“Sorry. Two Oh Four Main Street.”

Damn, he knew that building. His luck had definitely run out tonight.

“I’m sorry if I didn’t appear grateful for the ride,” she began, speaking quickly. “It’s just that—”

“You don’t know me. I get that.”

She didn’t look at him, didn’t say anything more. He didn’t blame her. And she was about to find out some bad news.

Two Oh Four Main Street was less than six blocks away, so the drive didn’t take long. In the rain-soaked darkness, he could see nothing but the blurry image of lights along the street, and the flat-fronted buildings nestled side by side along each block of Main Street. There wasn’t even a traffic light to slow them down. He pulled into the alley behind the two hundred block. Of the four commercial buildings, three had lights shining above the door to help—but naturally, hers was out. He knew this building, knew it had recently been a small restaurant that had closed down just a few months before.

“Is this it?” she asked, obviously trying not to sound disappointed.

“You really haven’t been here since you were a kid?”

She shook her head. “This used to be my grandmother’s store. I was eight when she died. My mother never brought me back after that.”

“Did you have the electricity turned on?”

She sighed. “No. I had planned to arrive during the day.”

“There’s a motel back—”

“No, I need to go in.” She unbuckled herself.

With a sigh, Nate brought a flashlight from beneath the seat. She gave him a quick, grateful smile, then jumped down into the rain. Nate glanced over his shoulder at Scout, who panted and watched her curiously.

“I know what you mean, buddy,” Nate said. “I’ll be back.”

When he joined her, she was already shivering, trying to enter a code in a numeric box next to the door. The flashlight helped, and soon she’d removed the keys from the box and was able to unlock the door. He followed her into a little hallway with two doors. He assumed one led upstairs to an apartment, like most of the buildings on Main Street. She used another key on the door directly in front of her and stepped inside. The place smelled musty and unused, but before he could even shine the flashlight around, he heard the squish of his foot stepping in water.
Uh-oh.

Emily felt the last hope she’d cherished dissolve inside her. As Nate slowly moved the flashlight around the room, she saw that they were in the kitchen of the restaurant. The stainless steel gleamed dully from counters and appliances, and she winced as she saw a splash of paint spattered down the door to the walk-in refrigerator. Holes gaped in the walls, and the sink, with a slow stream of water coming from the tap, had overflowed, leaving the floor wet, although a drain at her feet took the worst of it. Garbage was strewn everywhere, and shelves had toppled.

“Let me check in front,” Nate said. “Wait here.”

Offended by his peremptory attitude, she reached to take the flashlight, but he didn’t see her as he walked away. She gritted her teeth, put her hands on her hips, and waited in the dark until he returned a minute later.

“No sign of a break-in. The restaurant owners were your tenants?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Guess they were mad at you.”

“I had to raise the rent after my mother died.” She didn’t owe him any explanations, especially not since he seemed angry with her over their mistake earlier in the evening.

“They weren’t from here,” he said.

Maybe he was thinking
Outsiders,
and that she was one, too.

“What did you plan to do here?” he continued. “Open another business?”

“God, no. I need to sell it, but I certainly won’t get a good offer like this. I won’t be leaving as quickly as I’d hoped.”

He remained silent, probably disappointed.

“You can go, Mr.—Nate.”

“Thalberg. Nate Thalberg.”

“Emily Murphy,” she said, knowing their formal introduction was a bit too late.

He hesitated, then said, “I can’t leave you like this.”

At last she turned to him. His face was in shadows, since the flashlight beam was aimed away from him, but she could see the gleam of his eyes.

“Of course you can leave.” She spoke more sharply than she’d intended.

“You’re going to
stay
here?” he demanded.

“It’s mine.”
The last thing I own,
she thought. But it was
hers.
“There’s an apartment upstairs.”

“And you think it will look any better?”

“Guess I’ll go see. Can I use the flashlight?”

He handed it over, then crossed his arms over his chest, obviously planning to wait.

“If I could borrow this until morning . . .” she began.

“The apartment won’t look better, Emily, but go ahead and check. I’ll wait here.”

She went back to the hallway off the alley, used another key while holding the flashlight under her arm, and went upstairs. The smell alone already convinced her, and the debris was just as bad, if not worse. Piles of furniture and boxes were toppled around her, and she couldn’t even get a sense of the apartment. It felt like a horror-movie set, where she didn’t know what she’d find when the lights were eventually turned on.
What am I
supposed to do now?