Mixing Temptation (11 page)

“I like chocolate,” he said. “And I like sharing it with you.”

“Sometimes,” she murmured as she dared to take his massage a step further and trace circles around his nipples, “I wondered what would happen if you ditched your flannel button-­down after everyone else left. On those nights when you stayed to make sure I got home safe after a long Saturday night shift.”

He let out a low growl of approval.

“Josh, I've wanted to explore your body for a long time. And I didn't envision stopping when I reached your belt buckle.”

He cocked his head and glanced over his left shoulder, green eyes dancing with amusement. “All this time we were sharing brownies and pies, talking about how many pint glasses the bar went through on a busy night, and you were fantasizing about my dick?”

“Wondering,” she corrected. “Imagining how much you had to offer.”

He gaped at her. Whether from surprise at her blatant words, or shock that someone with her past would mentally debate his intimate dimensions . . . Well, she hoped it was the former. Because he'd never treated her as a victim. Yes, he'd abided by her boundaries. But she'd chalked that up to good manners and a healthy respect for women.

“I didn't think—­” he began. “I didn't realize—­”

“That I still think about sex?”

“That you were mentally undressing me while you worked,” he said with a smile.

She returned her hands to his shoulders and began to massage him again. It was surprise, pure and simple. She'd added the layers. “You didn't realize that your fantasies lined up with mine?”

“If I'd known, I'd have withheld the pie until you told me everything.”

“I have a feeling I could have talked you into sharing a slice or two,” she said.

He leaned back into her touch. “Tell me what happens after you strip off my pants . . .”

“First, I take a long, hard look—­”

The first few notes of ‘Sweet Caroline' cut in. Josh scrambled to his feet and dug his cell out of his jeans front pocket.

“Shit,” he cursed.

The song played another bar.
That
's for me,
she thought. But why now? Why here? Plus, she didn't have a phone. Unless it always rang like that . . .

“When did you change your ringtone?” she asked.

“This one's set for Big Buck's.” He swiped his finger across the screen and held the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

She wrapped her arms around her waist and tried not to stare at his crotch. His jeans didn't hide the fact that he had a lot to offer.

Next time,
she thought.
After I pay Dustin a visit.

But he was ready now . . . and he'd programmed his phone for her.

“Hey, Noah. Yeah, she's right here. I'll put you on speaker.”

“Where are you guys?” Noah's voice boomed through the phone. “Are you close to Palo Alto?”

“Not exactly,” she said with a glance at the receding waves still visible under the rising half-­moon.

“We took a detour to the coast,” Josh added. “I thought Caroline needed a little time with the ocean. Some fresh air and all before we head south.”

“That sounds great,” Noah said. “But shit, Ryan's going crazy. He's called twice since he got back to base. And look, he believes Helena needs a full-­blown rescue mission. ”

“She does,” Caroline said. “And she's going to get it. We're on our way.”

“Great,” Noah said with a sigh. “I'll pass the message on to our air force friend.”

“Has he called her?” she asked. “If he has reason to believe her situation has escalated, Ryan might want to call the local police. We can go and talk to her, offer a way out, but there is no guarantee she'll take it unless she's desperate.”

“If she was dying to escape, she could have stayed in Forever when she had the chance,” Noah pointed out.

“It's not always that cut-­and-­dried,” she said simply.

“I know,” Noah said. “Trust me, I know.”

The line went silent. She suspected Noah—­the man who'd tried his best to save her from an officer who should have been fighting beside them—­was taking a brief trip down memory lane.

“Enjoy the beach, Caroline,” Noah added finally. “And thanks for turning this into a real vacation for her, Josh.”

“Yeah, I just tagged along to prove that I rock at dating,” Josh said easily. “We found this resort by the sea. A cozy, beachfront cottage. Nice clear night—­”

“I've heard enough,” Noah said. “Keep me updated on your mission.”

The call ended and Josh pocketed the phone. Then he bent down and reclaimed his shirt. He must be freezing by now. Fall nights in Oregon called for sweaters, not bare chests.

“Sounds like we should get an early start,” she said as she stood and picked up her chowder bowl.

“You know we might get down there only to have Helena slam the door in our faces.” Josh scooped up his dishes and followed her through the cottage's front door. “Noah's right. If she wanted help she could have stayed with her mom.”

“She could have,” Caroline admitted as she set the bowl in the kitchenette's tiny sink and stepped aside to make room for Josh to do the same. “But she spent about twenty-­four hours in her hometown. That's not a lot of time to shake the feeling that there is no escape.”

“Still, she had a way out,” he said. “She could have moved back home.”

“Maybe Helena felt that she couldn't. We won't know until we talk to her. I do know that it's one thing to be hurt by a stranger. But someone you know and trust? Like the man she swore to love until death do them part?”

“It's different.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. The posture highlighted his biceps, but she didn't feel like exploring his muscles now. Not when his expression was set to ‘dead serious.'

“I felt like there was no way out. No escape.” She wanted to look away, but forced herself to meet his gaze.

“Yet you're going back to see Dustin,” he said. “Funny how you left out that little detour when we were talking to Noah.”

“He doesn't need to know,” she said. “And we'll be at Helena's tomorrow night.”

“But you think Helena feels she can't get out,” he said.

“Someone needs to build the path for her and then show her the way.”

“I'm glad you escaped,” he said with a sigh. “But are you sure we're the right duo for the job, this ‘rescue mission'?”

She nodded slowly and waited for his smile to return. It was as if he'd left his grin, his laugh, and his charm on the porch. “But if you're having second thoughts—­”

“I'm going with you,” he said firmly.

“Don't want to miss out on another date?”

His muscles contracted, accentuating his powerful arms. But still no smile.

“Caroline—­”

“Would it help if I made us a pair of superhero costumes?”

And finally,
finally
, his lips curved up as his gaze headed south. “Would you wear one of those spandex outfits? The ones cut like a strapless bikini? And those knee-­high boots?”

She crossed the small kitchenette/living room space and tapped her index finger to his forearm. Fighting the temptation to continue her earlier exploration of all his hard-­earned muscles, she rose up on her toes. Her lips hovered an inch from his.

“Be careful what you wish for,” she murmured. “Or you might find yourself wearing a pair of tights with your cape.”

“I'm willing to take the risk.” He lowered his mouth and captured hers. Her body hummed, eager to join in and make this a full-­body kiss. His lips moved over hers, but he stopped short of reaching for her. Slowly, he pulled away and stepped back. And she lowered her arms to her side.

“Good night, Supergirl,” he said. “I'll be on the porch dreaming about your legs in those crime-­fighting boots.”

 

Chapter 11

N
O ESCAPE.

Despite all her talk about superheroes and sexy costumes, those words repeated over and over like the refrain to a song Josh couldn't get out of his head. Hell, he swore he saw the letters spelled out in the sky as he stared up at the stars.

He had a hard time imagining the bold, beautiful Caroline trapped by anything. Wearing a sparkly leotard and fighting crime? Hell yeah. But never defeated.

Maybe I put too much faith in her strength.

He glanced at the door leading to the cottage's warm and snug interior. He didn't mind the cold night air or the wooden floorboards beneath his sleeping bag. He'd wanted to give her space. And he'd needed some himself.

What if his brothers had been right? The idea practically gave him hives. But still, he had to wonder if this little road trip was destined to implode. He knew what he wanted for his future. And driving around the coast with his girlfriend was a far cry from settled down. Add in the fact that she wanted to spy on her rapist and this trip seemed destined for failure.

The past is best left alone. Better to move on.

He'd learned that lesson over and over. When his mother left without looking back, when an accident stole weeks of his life, literally wiping them from his memory. Yeah, he knew better than to look back.

Plus, he'd witnessed his brothers' struggles on their way to love. Chad had been up front with him after Josh's breakup with Megan.

I let my abandonment issues hold me back when I fell in love with Lena.

And Josh had laughed until his sides hurt. He'd wished he'd recorded his brother, the former town playboy, talking about his feelings. But when he told Chad to repeat himself word for word so that he could capture his statement, his older brother had threatened to kick his ass.

Just don
't fall into that trap.

That was Chad's final bit of advice. And it had taken Josh a while to receive the message, but he'd finally made the call. Time to get serious and settle down. Only he didn't share his brother's ‘issues.' His mother was part of the past. He didn't linger on the memory.

But he knew it wasn't that easy for Caroline to let go. Maybe tomorrow's trip down memory lane would help. Maybe it would sever the connection. Or maybe her ‘issues' were too big.

No escape.

Josh closed his eyes. He knew what he wanted. A fourth date. Caroline in his bed—­or hell, the front seat of his truck. But he didn't want to be her escape. He wanted to be her home—­her second chance at a future that wasn't marked by fear and failure.

And I wouldn't turn down another massage. . .

His body responded to the memory. But he didn't reach beneath the sleeping bag to ease the ache. That was one feeling he wanted to linger, ready and waiting to play out their mutual fantasy.

“
P
LANNING TO CHANGE
into your costume on the road?” Josh held out a steaming cup of coffee. He'd woken early and fought his way through the hotel's convention crowd to secure two cups of joe and a box of pastries for the road.

“I didn't want to run the risk you would be distracted while driving.” Caroline accepted the cup and climbed into the passenger side of the truck. Settling her backpack at her feet, she opened the pastry box and peered in. Then she selected the jelly doughnut.

“Too late for that,” he said as he buckled into the driver's side. “My imagination is already running wild with images of those kick-­ass boots.”

With her free hand, she picked his cell up from the center console. “I'll pull up the directions while you daydream about Wonder Woman.”

“She always was my favorite,” he admitted. “Chad preferred Catwoman, but I liked to stick with the good guys—­and girls. Plus, with Wonder Woman, what you see is what you get. Catwoman always had a trick up her sleeve.”

“You know that Wonder Woman was really an Amazon princess right? And she had a third identity she used for her day job,” she murmured. He stole a quick glance at her and saw her attention still focused on his phone.

“A lot of ­people behave one way at work and another at home,” he said. “I'm not too crazy about the cat villain's whip.”

“Oh really?” And he recognized the playful note in her voice. “You don't have a secret desire for a spanking?” she added.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her set the phone on the dash with a hint of a smile on her lips. “No. But Wonder Woman's golden lasso might be fun.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” she murmured. “Take a right up ahead and then merge onto Highway 101.”

“Are you going to fill me in on the plan or should I just change into my special spandex outfit when we get there and follow your lead?” he asked.

“Which one did you bring?” she asked.

“Superman. But I tossed in my Batman outfit at the last minute just in case you have a thing for super wealthy men out to save the world.” He waggled his eyebrows but kept his gaze fixed on the road.

“I'm not into heroes.” The outside of her hand brushed his thigh as she reached for her coffee cup. She lingered for a second before picking up her cup. “You can keep your jeans on.”

“You can save yourself?”

“I do my best,” she said firmly.

He shook his head. And to think he'd questioned her strength last night. “All right, but I'm still coming with you today. So how about filling me in?”

She inhaled, sucking the air through her teeth. “I want to drive by Dustin's house,” she said finally. “He lives outside Eureka, not far off this highway. Just stay on this road.”

“Are you still keeping tabs on him?” He stole a quick glance in her direction. Through the passenger side window, he could still see the ocean crashing against the coastline.

“Remember that private investigator Noah hired last year? Back when he thought Dustin was after us?”

Josh nodded. He'd spent a number of long nights hiking through the woods near Noah's house and searching for the bastard. Hell, he'd been shot at by the man after Josie. And at the time, he'd thought it was Dustin. Though Josh didn't like to spend too much time pondering his second close encounter with a potentially life-­ending event.

“The PI sent us Dustin's address after his wife kicked him out. She'd moved off base during the trial. And when he was found guilty of adultery . . .”

He let out a growl that made it pretty damn clear what he thought about the fact that her rapist had been charged with freaking cheating instead of rape.

“His ex-­wife wanted to be closer to family I guess. Either way, Dustin moved too. He stayed close enough to see his kids. And lucky me, I was hiding out with my sister. He knew enough about my background to hunt me down.”

“And you think he's still there?” Josh asked. “It's been over a year since the PI located him.”

“Some days I still think I see him hiding in the trees,” she admitted. “But I'm fairly certain that's my fear acting up and playing tricks on me.”

“You haven't mentioned this,” he said. “Have you told Noah?”

“He has enough on his plate. New baby. New wife. And I think we can both agree my paranoia has caused enough trouble for him.”

“Caroline,” he said. “I doubt seeing Dustin, finding out where he is and what he's doing, will erase those fears.”

“We'll find out.”

He nodded.

“I have a feeling he's around here. I hate the man, but I know for a fact he loved his kids. Although his wife might still have a restraining order against him.”

“Please tell me you're not planning to approach him and talk to him.”

“I don't know,” she said. “I don't think so. I mainly just want confirmation that he's moved on and living his own life.”

“So this is more of a recon mission?” he asked dryly. “We'll sit in the truck with a box of doughnuts and stare through our binoculars?”

“Disappointed?”

Yes, I'd been looking forward to throwing a few punches at the man who hurt you. I wanted to kick his ass for not understanding that one simple fucking word—­‘no.' And I'd hoped he'
d give me a reason to break his damn nose for sending you into hiding.

“Nah, I didn't want to spend our fourth date in jail. I was hoping to finish my
Magic Mike
dance. It might get awkward if we're sharing a holding cell with the local drunks. Plus, I agreed to let you pick the spot.”

“I had something in mind.” She withdrew another powdered pastry from the box. “Of course now I need to find a golden lasso. And that might prove challenging.”

“Did I forget to mention my number one rule?” He shifted in his seat as his lower half took a sincere interest in the conversation that had, thank freaking goodness, moved away from Dustin the Asshole. Talking about boots and superhero sex toys turned him on instead of leaving him itching for a fight.

But the chances of making love to Caroline tonight, after she saw once and for all that her past was sitting on his ass in Bumblefuck, California, might be slim. He should probably resign himself to a long drive with a hard-­on for company.

“What rule?” she asked.

“No bondage until the sixth date.” He added a hint of mock regret to his voice. “And I know you're a stickler for the dating rules.”

“I am.”

She sounded so damn serious that he took his eyes off the highway for a second to make sure she was smiling. But her full lips and big green eyes didn't give anything away.

“So I should probably ask if you have any restrictions on black lace on the fourth date,” she said. “You see, I ordered this pair of panties online back when I first asked you out.”

His grip tightened on the wheel. Make that two of them who'd had enough talk about the effects of her past.

“You're wearing them now?” he demanded.

“Yes.”

Blood rushed south. He never let desire rule him. Not with Caroline. But damn it, he felt primed to explode. He wanted to touch her, kiss her, and make her
his
right here on the highway just from thinking about her underwear.

He couldn't. But that didn't stop him from hitting the brake and steering onto the shoulder. He threw the truck in park and turned to her. “Are you playing some sort of game designed—­”

“No games.” Her fingers reached for the button at the top of her cargo pants. She lowered the zipper an inch and slipped her right hand inside. He followed her movements.

Don't tell me we waited a year and now we're going to lose control and play show-­and-­tell on the side of the road.

He could refuse to join in. But as soon as she drew a thin strip of black lace into view, he decided to let her make the call.

“Do you like them?” she asked.

And how she managed the question without a hint of coy come-­and-­get-­me in her voice . . . hell, he didn't know and he didn't care.

“Caroline, I fucking
love
your panties.”

And I'm falling in love with you.

He'd known it since Noah and Josie's wedding. What he felt for her was so damn real and right. And yeah, it was part of why he'd followed her on a rescue mission road trip. Why he couldn't risk another look at her underwear until he was damn sure she wanted
him
, not an escape from her fears. Just him—­beneath her, inside her, on top of her, behind her . . .

I'm going to lose my mind on the side of the road.

“You sure chose one helluva day to debut those undies,” he said, returning his gaze to her face. Those big green eyes, that heart-­shaped face—­she looked so damn innocent.

This is the wood nymph side.
He'd seen a lot of her
G.I. Jane
, ready-­to-­kick-­some-­serious-­butt side lately. But she wasn't all hard lines and rough edges.

“Sure you don't want to change our plans for the day and drive back to the cottage?” he asked.

“I can't do that.” She zipped up her pants. “Just remember all the reasons we don't want to end up in a jail cell, OK?”

“Caroline, for the rest of the day, your panties will be front and center in my mind. And I promise that if I start thinking about throwing a punch or two, I'll take a deep breath, close my eyes, and imagine sinking to my knees and running my hands up your bare thighs to that slip of black lace—­”

“Please.”

He pressed his lips together. She wasn't begging. No, she'd offered the plea like a command.

“If you plant one more tempting image in my mind, I'll ask you to stop the car,” she said. “But I can't stay here. I need to keep going.”

“I know.” His right hand released the wheel and reached for hers. He touched her fingers before grabbing hold of her hand. “I swear I won't say another dirty word until you're ready.”