Nobody's Hero (5 page)

“I know it, Darlin’. I just can’t help it. I see you and it makes me a little crazy like that.”

He hadn’t had fun like this in…he frowned as he realized the truth. He hadn’t had fun like this in forever.

She stood and walked carefully to his side. Her eyes spit fire, promised he was going to get burned. He relished the thought. Wondered what kind of comeback Miss Priss was going to throw in his face this time.

She stared into his eyes, meeting him look for look. Her sweet lips looking entirely too kissable, just as they always had, and he thought about brushing his thumb just there under her bottom lip to see if it would tremble, to see if she would hold her own.
 

But she ruined it all with a naughty smile that seemed completely at odds with the woman in front of him.

“Here’s the deal, Riley. I’m not the same girl I was twelve years ago. My boyfriend didn’t leave me at the prom because I wouldn’t sleep with him. You’re doing everything in your power to make me believe you’re still the baddest bad boy in town. Well, guess what? I never believed you were a bad boy. A real bad boy wouldn’t have thrown me out of his bed all those years ago and he sure as hell wouldn’t have been as tender as you were later. And honestly, a real bad man wouldn’t be doing everything in his power to scare me away now. Can we please move past this?”

Speechless. She’d struck him speechless.

Thank God. Because no way could she survive a full-on onslaught courtesy of Riley Sorenson. No way. She couldn’t even meet his eyes without falling into their deep blue depths. It would probably take a direct infusion of Godiva to cure this problem.

She stepped back and tried desperately to mask the way her body reacted to him.

“Sweetheart, don’t make the mistake of putting me in the hero’s category.”

She sighed. To think she’d called him the most honest person she knew. “Don’t call me sweetheart. And have no fear. I won’t be calling you hero. Unless of course you can find me some real chocolate out here. Then there’s no telling what I’ll call you.”

He laughed. The sound rippled across her skin and she couldn’t take her eyes away from his face as he threw his head back, completely at ease, completely in his element. Like a pirate come to life with his blonde hair blowing in the wind, his sun-kissed skin soft brown with a tint of red, the vein on the side of his neck so enticing. She wanted to…

Lord help.

His laughter stopped and he looked at her, appreciation obvious in the way his eyes danced along her skin slowly, taking in everything about her. Awareness shot through her swift and powerful and all consuming. She met his eyes, bit her bottom lip and wondered just how much this man could see.
 

Could he see what she’d worked so hard to hide? The hurt, the disillusionment, the anger.
 

She closed her eyes to keep him from seeing more and wished the awareness would come back, wipe away the bad thoughts, the lump in her throat that threatened to turn to tears any second.

But when she opened her eyes again, he was looking out over the lake as if the moment had never occurred.

Good. That was good. She repeated the thought again and again until he finally spoke.

“So you really like chocolate, huh?”

Oh thank God.
This
she could handle. And
like
was an understatement. “Yeah. I think it’s kind of a sickness really. It started with late night runs to a local drive-thru for hot fudge sundaes on nights Charlie worked late, graduated to full out assaults on Ben and Jerry’s after Charlie left. When he died, he left me broke. You’d be surprised how good Ghiradelli’s tastes when the bills come in.”

Wow. She hadn’t meant to tell him all that. Hadn’t meant to say anything. But now she had and he was looking at her like she’d totally lost it. She’d probably killed all attraction he’d felt with that little confession. She’d seen for herself what a health nut he was.

And that was okay. She’d learned a long time ago that Haagan Dazs beat the heck out of lying in the bed of a faithless man.

Besides, she didn’t want to be in Riley’s bed anyway. She didn’t want to be anywhere near him. If she kept repeating that thought, it had to be true.

Chapter Four

Thirty minutes later as he and Callah walked up to his cabin, Riley figured they were safe. No gun shots. No strange people lurking around corners. For now it was just him and Callah looking at him like he’d saved the day.

Wonderful. He’d gone from worn out, washed up reporter to superhero in less than twenty-four hours. Stand back Bat Man.

He looked down where she stood waiting for him to tell her what to do next. Her eyes were round and scared and just a little aggravated as she looked around the back of the cabin. She was trying to hide the aggravated part. He could tell by the way her mouth tilted up at him as she waited.

Her sweet smile made him feel like a saint. Her sinful lips made him feel about as far away from saintly as a man could get.

Damn, she was still one hot babe. He really needed to stop thinking about her like that. Fishing the cabin keys out of his pocket he told himself to get his mind back where it belonged. Callah was on the run for her life. They needed to find out why.

Once they made it inside the cabin, he pointed to the bedroom off the side of the living room. “You can put the bag in there for now. If you want a nap or something, go ahead and sleep. The sheets are clean. I’m going to call my brother.”

Anything to get away from the unadulterated appreciation he saw on her face. She needed to remember who she was dealing with here. He wasn’t some sort of savior. He was a creep who couldn’t seem to stop thinking about talking her out of her clothes even though they were on the run from some unknown boogey-man.

“I slept plenty. I’ll stay in here while you talk to your brother. He may want to ask me something.”

He shrugged determined to put distance of some sort between them. “Whatever suits your fancy, Sweetheart.”

She started to speak, but he stopped her with a wave of his hand. “I know. I know. Don’t call you sweetheart.”

Her mouth snapped shut and she turned to face him, hands on her hips accentuating their smooth curves. Oh yeah. She was in battle mode. The last thing he needed or wanted was Callah Crenshaw in full battle mode.
 
He’d just keep telling himself that every time he said or did something to get her right there. Ms. Attila the Virginal Hun. One hot babe.

“How long are we going to play this cat and mouse game, Riley? You stand over there acting all tough guy on me, and I stand over here ready to rip into you because you’re driving me crazy. Do this. Do that. Go sleep like a good little girl.”

Whoa baby. “So what exactly are you saying here, Callah? You want to get a little closer? Play with fire? ‘Cause if that’s the case, I’m your man. I’m real good with fires.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Her face took on a whole new kind of fire. A little on the prudish side. A lot on the good girl side. Patented sexy Callah Crenshaw. That look just about drove him wild.

And even though he knew that wasn’t what she meant, he also knew they were going to be out here alone with nothing to do to pass the time. If he let her get close, no telling how much damage she’d do. He wasn’t going to let Callah break down barriers he’d spent a lifetime building.

He stepped across the hardwood floor, crowded her on purpose, prepared to lie as if his life depended on it. She smelled like spring rain and daisies. Who the hell smelled like daisies? “No, Callah. I don’t know what you mean. Enlighten me.”

It took everything in him not to touch her. To see if her arms were as soft as they looked. To see how quickly she’d thread her fingers through his hair and pull his mouth to hers.

For a second she stood there, her chin set in that stubborn tilt he decided he liked. It showed the fire inside her. The princess part her asshole ex-husband hadn’t destroyed.

Silent seconds passed as she met his gaze without blinking. Finally, she looked away, disgust crossing her face. “Fine. You want to play this game, keep up pretense, whatever. I don’t want to know the real you anyway.”

Glory, hallelujah. “Honey, I’ve already told you. This
is
the real me.”

She didn’t bother answering, just plopped down on the couch before turning to look out on the lake. Retreat. Just what he wanted. So how come he felt like he’d lost the battle?

What was wrong with him? She got under his skin. It was the adoration he’d seen for just a moment. That look in her eyes that said he was right up there with their first grade teacher, or the preacher, or maybe even a firefighter who saved her cat when she was a kid.
 

He couldn’t stand it. Because there was no reason to look at him like that. He might have saved her from the unknown. But he was going to find the truth. He was going to dig and dig until he knew why she was in danger and who she was. And once he knew, there wasn’t going to be a happily ever after for sweet Callah Crenshaw. He was going to majorly screw with her world.
 

He didn’t want to, but the truth was the truth. And there was no way
this
truth was going to end in happily ever after. It was probably going to hurt like hell. And when he was done, she’d wish to God she’d never met him. But she’d be alive. Given the alternative, he’d take that every time.
 

The
real
him. What a joke. Callah wondered if he even knew who the real him was. He liked to pretend he was some sort of bad boy with major attitude, but this place said something different.

Something quiet. Something real. Something more in line with a man who wrote for a living. The white whicker furniture, sparse. The wooden rocking chair looking out the window spoke of another time, another life. No plants. No decorative touches. But the view of the lake was incredible.

One picture. Black and white. An old man—scruffy with a beard and mustache that needed trimming in a major way—and a young boy, maybe twelve or thirteen, standing on a dock holding up a giant fish and smiling like he’d won the Mega Millions jackpot. The old man she thought she might know, but she couldn’t quite place. The boy was Riley. A Riley she’d never known. He’d certainly never looked so free, so happy when she’d seen him at school. Not even later when they’d spent hours in each other’s arms.

She looked over where he now leaned against a worn wooden kitchen cabinet squinting his eyes and tapping a pencil on a notebook as he waited for someone, his brother probably, to answer the call he was placing. Why’d he have to look so good? Everything would be easy if time had done half to him what it had done to her. But no. He looked better than ever. And God only knew why he wanted to turn every little comment into some sort of sexual innuendo.

Probably some sort of defense mechanism. A way to push her back. His attitude was one big
No Trespassing
sign. His mouth
Attack Dogs on Guard
.

Fine. She didn’t want to be his friend anyway. He was just some burned out reporter who’d happened along the story of a lifetime. She needed to remember that.

She was his story. His ticket to fame.

She listened as he talked to what she supposed was an answering machine. His brother must still be out. Terrific. No telling how long she’d be stuck here with Mr. honey-sweetheart-this-
is
-the-real-me-Congeniality. He left a short message and clicked the phone back in place before crossing to the living room and falling in the chair next to her.

She didn’t want to look at him. Somehow she’d let him hurt her feelings. She couldn’t decide whether it was the fact that he was purposefully being a jerk to make her back off that hurt or if it was the fact that he refused to be real. She was so sick of pretenses.

And that was okay. She didn’t want him to mean any of his outrageous words. She didn’t. But it would be nice for a man to just once look at her with passion, with want, with temptation for more than a few seconds.

Riley bent forward, rested his elbows on his knees, clasped his strong hands and steepled his fingers. What horrible comment was he working on now? Obviously he wanted to say something. She waited, raised her eyebrows and met his eyes with her own. Creep. Jerk.
Why do you have to be so damn sexy?

Callah crossed her arms across her stomach and Riley tapped his fingers a couple more times. When he cleared his throat, Callah forced herself not to say a word. Not to demand he let her in on whatever top-secret, life saving, super-hero-reporter-to-the-rescue plan he had now.
 

“I better start by saying I was a real jerk a few minutes ago. I’m sorry.”

Well blow her over and call her a goose. An apology. She couldn’t believe it. Apologies did not come easily to this man. They made him uncomfortable. Good. No way was she going to make this easier.
 

“You were right. I know you were talking about being…” he stopped and she bit her tongue to keep from telling him to forget about it.
 

“…About being friends…of a sort, I guess.”

He
guessed
? What exactly would it take to make things clear? Callah nodded stiffly as she tried to come up with the right words to answer him, but he wasn’t done.

“I know you think that’s a good idea, Callah. I even understand it. You’re a good person. And even though you’ve been screwed royally by your ex, and even though he could very well be the reason you’re in danger, you see the good in me.”