Mixing Temptation (3 page)

Maybe Lily had been right to dismiss Caroline's concerns. This man looked like he'd walked off a movie set with his chiseled jaw and perfect brown hair.

But then her gaze swept over the line of medals on his chest. Those were real and she doubted this smiling God among men had swiped them from an air force officer to complete his costume.

“I'm Ryan,” he said, holding out his hand. “Old friend of Lily's.”

“He's one of the original three musketeers,” Lily called from inside the truck. “Dominic and Noah's best friend from grade school. He played football with them.”

Caroline glanced over her shoulder at the man holding the door for her. Football? He was pretty, but he didn't exactly have Noah or Dominic's imposing build.

“I was the kicker,” Ryan explained as he climbed up behind her. “I left to join the military when they did. But while Noah went to the Marines and Dominic to the army, I made the right call, seeing as I'm the only one still serving, and settled on the air force.”

“Dominic would still be a ranger if he hadn't been injured,” Lily pointed out.

“True,” Ryan said. “But I think he's better off here with you.”

The front bench in Dominic's pickup could technically hold three ­people. Still, it was a tight fit. Caroline felt Ryan's hand brush against her leg as he buckled his seat belt. But after that, he shifted toward the door. No physical contact. But he was giving her a curious look.

“So what brought you—­”

“Ryan's back in town for Noah and Josie's wedding,” Lily cut in as she executed an illegal U-­turn. She glanced across the crowded cab as she drove them back toward downtown. “I went and picked him up at the airport so that he could surprise his parents. He didn't tell them that he's taking a full two weeks off. Isn't that sweet?

“And now when does Helena get in?” Lily continued without waiting for an answer to her first question. And Caroline decided to reconsider her brownie ban. Her friend clearly didn't plan to let Ryan guide the conversation.

“I don't know if Helena is going to make it,” he said.

“What?” Lily's eyes widened, but she kept her focus on the road. “First she runs off and gets married without inviting any of her friends from home and now she won't even come back for Noah's wedding?”

He shook his head. “I don't know what's going on with her. Last time I talked to her she didn't sound like herself. I told her I'd be around for two weeks this time. I even said I could swing down to California and visit her. But she quickly told me that her husband wouldn't like it.”

“He's jealous,” Lily said.

“Of what?” Ryan grumbled. “I was her friend.”

“Hmm,” Lily murmured as she sped past the university. “Maybe I'll give her a call and try to convince her to visit. I ran into her mother at the bank. And she said Helena sends regular checks to help with the farm, but she never visits.”

Lily turned to her. “Helena's mom raises Highland cattle. The meat is good and sells well. But she's had a few streaks of bad luck. Sick cows . . .”

Caroline let Lily's monologue drift over her. Familiar landmarks ticked by outside the window. A few more blocks and they would be at the bar. And free from an air force officer who had questions she couldn't answer.

Although if she planned to attend Noah's wedding, she would have to come up with something to say if anyone asked how she knew the bride and groom. And she suspected
the groom stood by me when he found out I was being raped by our commanding officer
would only lead to more questions.

But she couldn't skip Noah's wedding. He'd tried to protect her while they were deployed together. He'd found the number for the hotline when she'd given up hope of lodging a formal complaint against their commanding officer. And then, after they returned, once she'd pressed charges, Noah had testified on her behalf. He'd sworn under oath in a military court that she was telling the truth about their commanding officer. He'd risked his military career for her, though they both knew he wanted out when his term of ser­vice ended.

Nearly two years had passed since then, but she would never forget. All those nights on the base in Afghanistan when he'd gotten up and escorted her to the bathroom so that their CO wouldn't find her alone . . .

Noah had done everything he could to protect her. So one week from today, she would put on a dress and face her fears. After all, she couldn't hide forever. At some point, she had to reclaim her life—­or at least pieces of it.

Lily pulled into the Big Buck's staff parking lot. “Looks like you have a visitor, Caroline.”

She jumped. And she was pretty sure Ryan hadn't missed her reaction.

“Josh Summers decided to bring you another pie,” Lily added. “Will you save me a piece?”

“Sure,” she said. “And thanks for the ride.”

Ryan climbed down from the truck and held the door open for her. “Nice meeting you. And if you see Noah, will you tell him I'll swing by the bar later?”

She nodded as she shouldered her backpack and headed for Josh. With each step, the tension eased. She'd survived a car ride with an air force officer. That had to be a step in the right direction.

“How long have you been waiting?” she asked Josh.

“Just got here,” he said. “I wanted to stop by and ask you something.”

Her heart sank. He'd driven over an hour out of his way to ask her out. Of course, he'd brought a pie too. But he always brought pie. And she'd known it was only a matter of time before he stopped waiting for her to name a time and place for their first date.

A month or so ago, she'd asked him out when the memory of their first kiss still pushed her past fear and landed her in a big old pile of lust-­inspired insanity. She'd felt brave, bold, and maybe a little brazen.

But today she felt as if she were dodging one bullet after another. As if her life was a series of obstacles, and at the end of the day her reward was survival.

“Ask me what?” she said as she withdrew the key to the bar's back entrance from her pocket.

“Do you like whipped cream?”

She turned away from the door and faced the redhead with the sexy smile. Maybe she'd dodged enough bullets today. Maybe she could pack her concerns about the wedding, and how she planned to blend in with the flower arrangements, away until after he left.

“I love it.”

 

Chapter 2

“
M
AY
I
LICK
the whipped cream off your face?”

Josh lowered his fork to the pie dish and waited for the Big Buck's dishwasher to catch up with the conversation. Pie—­not flowers—­had offered him the perfect way to transition from the guy who found her in the woods to her friend. And he couldn't resist the temptation to switch from small talk to damn near close to begging for a kiss.

And a date,
he thought.
I'm going to ask her out today.

Caroline raised one perfect, dark eyebrow. One hand clasped a spoon and the other rested on the stainless steel work surface that on busy nights held stacks of dirty pint glasses waiting for her attention. Right now, it was just the two of them and the pie. The bar wouldn't open to Forever's local logging population and the university students who outnumbered the men and woman born and bred in this section of the Willamette Valley for another hour.

“No,” she said. Her tongue darted out from between her pink lips that always looked as if she was wearing a kiss-­me-­now lipstick. Or course, he knew the woman whose ideas of accessorizing involved a concealed weapon tucked into the waistband of her pants did not bother with makeup. She licked the whipped cream teasing the edge of her mouth. “I've got it under control.”

He nodded, refilled his fork and lifted another bite of key lime pie to his mouth. He always asked—­for a touch, a taste, a kiss—­but he never pushed. Caroline would shift the parameters of their dessert-­based friendship in her own time. Or she wouldn't and he'd be forced to come to terms with the fact that the future he daydreamed about—­settling down with Caroline, buying his own home, maybe a dog—­would replace sleeping with Megan Fox on the top of his Never Going to Happen list.

“You're going to Noah's wedding on Saturday night?” he asked, sliding back into friendly chitchat. He'd waited a year to kiss Caroline the first time. And he'd sit tight for another if it meant more sugarcoated kisses. To hell with his siblings' opinions.

“Just because I can take the dishwasher apart and fix it every time it tries to quit on us”—­she nodded to the restaurant-­grade appliance behind her—­“doesn't mean Noah wouldn't fire me for missing his wedding. Plus, he's closing the bar for the night. Everyone else is going.”

“Everyone else is in the wedding,” Josh pointed out. Big Buck's owner and manager was marrying Forever's former bad girl, who'd burst into his life over a year ago, demanded a job, and quickly worked her way up to assistant manager. And the only other bartender on the payroll right now was the groom's best friend and the bride's big brother.

“True. But I owe Noah. I can't miss his wedding.”

Fair enough,
he thought.

“A ­couple of months ago, you asked me out on a date,” Josh pointed out.

“I was feeling brave at the time.”

“Are you canceling?” he challenged. If she said yes, he'd kiss her again. Maybe not today, but one day soon. And he'd reminder her why she'd summoned the courage to ask in the first place. He'd caught her looking, her eyes roaming over his biceps with a flicker of something more than friendship in their green depths. And if given the chance, he would let her run her fingers over his T-­shirt, mapping the muscles beneath . . .

“No, I'm not canceling,” she said thoughtfully. “I'm still working out the details.”

“Be my date to the wedding.”

Her eyes widened, staring back at him as if he'd dropped to one knee and suggested they follow her boss down the aisle.

“No,” she said firmly. “Josh, I . . . Just no.”

C
AROLINE REFUSED TO
look away. She'd spent months learning to read Josh's facial expressions, forcing herself to look past the red-­gold stubble that screamed ‘I'm too sexy for this bar.'

Or his shirt.

Or her . . .

Right now, the corners of his mouth threatened to fall into a frown. Disappointment. But he never let his smile falter for long. He always took a moment. Looked away and then returned his gaze to her as if she hadn't turned him down twice in ten minutes.

But he knows I'm a long way from whipped cream kisses in the bar's back room.

And dates.

Yes, she'd asked him out once. But then reality had come crashing down on her. Her life consisted of washing pint glasses and staying out of sight. She couldn't hope for more—­not even a single night out at one of the restaurants near the university—­with a federal warrant hanging over her head.

Of course, the police weren't actively looking for her. As far as she knew. But if the local cops, or even a state trooper passing through town, found out who she was . . . If they learned why she kept to the shadows, she would be under arrest and turned over to the military. She would have to pay the price for her unauthorized absence. For refusing to deploy alongside the men who'd turned a blind eye when their commanding officer ordered her into his bed. The men who'd laughed with Dustin when he'd said he would force open her mouth and make her take him between her lips . . .

And then there was the elephant in the bar's back room that would also tag along on their date. She hadn't had sex—­oral or otherwise—­because
she
wanted to since before she joined the Marines. Josh had never treated her like a victim, but there was a first time for everything.

“I'm sorry,” she added. “But I can't go to the wedding as your date. There will be too many ­people. And everyone knows you. If they see me with you . . . they'll ask questions. And I can't give them answers. I need to stay in the background, hiding behind a plant or something. And then leave as soon as they cut the cake.”

“A wedding probably isn't the best place for a first date.” He pointed his fork at her. “Maybe once I get my own place, you can help me christen the kitchen.”

She raised an eyebrow. “That assumes a lot for a first date.”

He laughed. And the familiar sound threatened to lead her into his version of the future. One where they would kiss in the kitchen and then—­

“I was talking about baking a pie together,” he said. “I'd invite you over to the farmhouse, but I didn't think you'd take kindly to receiving the third degree from my siblings and their significant others.”

“Probably not a good idea,” she murmured. She'd spent the past year trying to avoid his two older brothers and his sister. It wasn't hard seeing as his family lived in Independence Falls, a solid hour's drive from Big Buck's Bar. Chad Summers, the middle brother, had tried to befriend her, stopping by the bar's back room with his girlfriend, a drop-­dead gorgeous woman who'd served in the army. But Caroline had shut down their attempts.

Josh Summers remained the one and only person she'd let in since she'd showed up on Noah's doorstep. There was something about the way he accepted the word ‘no' that broke down her defenses. He never tossed the word aside, questioning whether it was a knee-­jerk response. He never pushed—­not once—­under the pretense that he knew what was best for her. Not since that first night when he'd found her in the woods. Even Noah, who'd had her back when they were deployed together, pushed. Her fellow soldier turned boss tried over and over to talk her into visiting the local gun club with him. She said no and he asked again and again.

But Josh always listened.

“Have you started looking for a new apartment?” she asked, steering the conversation away from dates that might lead to compromising situations.

“I'm looking, but not for an apartment. I'm still sitting on my split from when we sold the family trucking company. I want to use the cash to buy a piece of land. Someplace with a nice view of the mountains, maybe space to put those viticulture classes I've been taking to use and grow some grapes. Not a lot. I've learned enough to know that is one tough business. I'd rather keep my day job with Moore Timber and put my blood, sweat, and tears into building my own home.”

“You can do that?” The question slipped out before she could mask the surprise in her voice.

“I'll need help, but I know what I want. Four bedrooms. Maybe five. Plenty of space to spread out. Timber frame. A second story that is open to a great room below. And one helluva kitchen with all the modern appliances. I'll hire an architect, and a builder. But I can swing a hammer with the best of them.”

Four bedrooms. Plenty of space. . .

Oh hell, she should push him away. A better friend would demand that Josh Summers share his pies with a woman willing to daydream about a place in his picture-­perfect future. She shouldn't let him waste his life waiting for her to make up her mind about a first date.

“You should do it,” she said firmly. “You should buy the land. What are you waiting for?”

He cocked his head. One red curl fell across his forehead. His hair looked as if he'd rolled out of bed, run his fingers through the loose, wavy locks and prepared to face another day looking like an Irish god who'd somehow landed in rural Oregon. Though that might have something to do with the muscles he'd fine-­tuned over the years of felling trees.

But right now she kept her gaze focused on his face, waiting for his answer.

“What if I decide on five bedrooms and the woman I want to share my dream home with thinks it's too much. I might have to settle for three in order to talk her into an outdoor kitchen that I'm thinking about building in addition to the monstrous one in the house.”

“As long as you're not planning to turn half the house into some sort of man cave with beer pong tables lining the hallways, I think you'll find someone who will love your dream house,” she said. “Of course to meet that special someone you will have to start dating.”

And that was as close as she was going to get to kicking him in the butt and demanding that he turn his focus away from her. They could remain friends. But another kiss would just lead to a dead end.

His smile faded. “You think I should ask someone else to be my date to the wedding?”

She forced a brief nod and let her gaze settle on the half-­eaten pie.

“No,” he said slowly, lingering over the simple word. “I don't think so. But I might put in an offer on that land.”

“You should do both,” she pointed out despite the relief that threatened to turn to joy. “I can't move into your four-­ to five-­bedroom dream home. Not when I'm still so . . .”

Scared.

Nearly fifteen months had slipped by since she'd run away from the military. She'd pressed pause on her life that day. There had been moments here and there were she'd felt ready to hit play again and move on. Each one revolved around the man standing across the stainless steel counter looking down at his pie.

“A ­couple of weeks ago you stopped wearing those baggy cargo pants.” Josh dug his fork into the dish and glanced up at her. “I like the skinny jeans better.”

Me too. And I like the way you look at my legs when you think I'm distracted. . .

“I stood out in the cargo pants and boots,” she said with a shrug. “Lily said I'd blend in more if I dressed like the university students. And Josie had some clothes she didn't think would ever fit again even if she lost all the baby weight. She gave these to me.”

“You stand out in those jeans too. I'm glad I only have to share the view with the dishwasher.” He nodded to the machine. “And not all those young kids from the college.”

“You're twenty-­eight, Josh. Not that much older than those ‘young kids.' Many of them are graduate students.”

“More than half would love to have you serve their drinks,” he said.

“I like it back here where no one will—­”

“Notice you. Yeah, I get that. But my point is, you've changed since you first showed up here looking for Noah.” He set down his fork and took a step back. “Who knows what will happen next?”

“Nothing.”

I hope. I pray.

Because the only life-­changing events she could imagine would land her in trouble. She'd carved out a safe place to hide. She had a cash job and a place to live thanks to her boss. If she lost this—­

“Something always happens next.” He turned and headed for the door.

She'd touched the hard planes of his chest when she'd kissed him, but the view of his backside left her wanting more. More pies. More conversation. More Josh.

One . . . Two . . . Three
. . .

He turned and glanced over his shoulder. And then he flashed a knowing smile. Oh, she'd seen plenty of hard-­bodied men. She'd served alongside soldiers with drool-­worthy muscles. There was nothing special about Josh Summers.

Except for his smile.

She was falling for that grin and the man who wielded it like an enticing treat. Tempted to trust in him. Believe in him.

“I'll see you at the wedding,” he called and then he walked his delicious smile out the door of the bar's back room.

She abandoned her fork and dipped her fingers in the pie dish. Sugar. She needed a burst of sweetness to take her mind off Josh Summers.

Next time he asks you to lick the whipped cream from your lips, say yes!

Because Josh Summers was right. Something always happened next. And if she wanted to reclaim her life—­or at least a small piece of it—­if she wished for another chance to land in Josh's arms with his lips pressed to hers, then she needed to find out what happened when she said yes.