Rumor (A Renegades Novella) (9 page)

Dillon set the crayon down and slid off the chair.

“I’ll come with you, Dillon,” Grace said, patting his soft head of dark curls, still frowning at Jasmine. “I’d better check out this builder man.”

“I don’t advise stepping into that room without reflective glasses.” She put up her hands and raised her brows. “Just sayin’. Not my fault if your eyeballs fry.”

“Jaime, Kaitlin, and Hillary,” Grace called, following Dillon as the boy skipped across the dressing room and disappeared through the open double doors, “head out to the stage and start stretching. I’ll be right there.”

From this angle, Grace could only see one wall of the storeroom, its bare studs now covered with gypsum board. Trepidation crawled through her chest. She was going to be so pissed if Dean had gone for the cheapest labor he could find to—

“Whoa!” The familiar male voice carried from inside the large room, one that made Grace’s feet stop midstep. Made her heart flip and squeeze. “What’s this? There’s
two
of you?”

The twins giggled.

“Good Lord, what a handful,” Josh said. “Your poor mother. No, little dude, don’t touch that. Here, I’ll show you how this works.”

An electric buzz filled the air, followed by more giggles from the boys.

Grace didn’t know how to respond to his voice. She was first shocked, then angry, then confused, then angry again.

“I’m going to find a way to help—both you and Carolyn.”

Josh’s last words filled Grace’s head.

She pushed her feet forward and gripped the doorframe as she turned into the room, but the sight on the floor in front of her tangled her mind.

Josh knelt on the floor between the twins. He was shirtless, wearing only jeans, lightweight suede work boots, and a leather tool belt. And Grace instantly understood Jasmine’s Trojan Ultra Ribbed metaphor. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen his body. Over the years, she’d seen him in swim trunks dozens of times.

But…this was like seeing him again for the first time, all bronze and beefy, the thick muscles of his shoulders and biceps curved and cut. The scars on his right shoulder had healed well, but left thick, discolored welts on his skin. Somehow, it only made him more authentic, more masculine, more…delicious.

“Dillon, Dalton.” A strong male voice called from the back door. “Let’s go.”

The boys ignored their father, enamored with Josh’s drill.

“Sounds like Dad’s here.” Josh put the drill down.

“Noooo,” Dalton whined, the twin with hair a shade lighter than the other.

“Again,” Dillon chirped, leaning into Josh, half in his lap, hanging on one broad shoulder. “Do it again.”

“Little man,” Josh said, “I am not gonna get my heinie whooped by your daddy today.”

He wrapped an arm around each boy’s waist and whipped them up and over his shoulders, one on each side. The boys squealed and giggled, and Josh’s smile could have powered the club for a week. But what Grace saw was a wide chest, six-pack abs, and jeans pulled so low by the heavy tool belt that the hollows at his hip bones pointed to what Grace’s body craved most.

Jasmine appeared at Grace’s side, laughing. “They’re going to want to come here after school every day.”

“Excuse me, ladies.” Josh carried the wiggling bundles of happiness through the doorway, his muscles flexing, then passed through the short hallway toward the rear door where Rocco waited.

Both Grace and Jasmine turned to watch him go. The muscles in his back played in the shadow of the hallway, rippling beneath his tattoo—the skeleton of a frog overlaying a waving American flag, with the word Frogman curved into the design. His ass and thighs filling out his jeans deliciously. Two little boys gigging on his shoulders.

Grace’s mind was in the clouds, the only clear thought:
I want that. All that.

“If your panties haven’t melted by now,” Jasmine murmured, drawing Grace’s mind from the haze, “I might start thinking your sexual preferences have changed.”

The comment directed Grace’s attention between her legs, where she was hot, tingling, full, aching, and…wet.

“It doesn’t matter what’s melting,” she said, keeping her voice low. “There’s way too much bad history between us. And he’s way too much like my ex-husband. It’s no wonder they were best friends. Isaac always wanted to run things, the same way Josh is trying to run them now. When Isaac came home from overseas, he always expected to get back that sweet twenty-two-year-old kid he’d married. Josh doesn’t like me working here. He still treats me like I’m fragile doll.” She shook her head and crossed her arms. “No, I’m not letting my feelings for a man dictate my life ever again. I’m sure as shit not twenty-two anymore.”

“Honey, if you don’t want to be treated like a kid, act like an adult,” Jasmine said in that sassy way of hers, drawing a frown from Grace. “Adults go after what they want, and successful adults do it even when what they want scares them.”

Josh’s words from the night before pushed into her head.
“Damn right you scare me. You’re the only thing that’s ever scared me, Grace.”

She shook her head against the emotional pull the words created. “He’s a runner. As soon as his conscience is soothed, he’s going to make skid marks out of town.”

One of Jasmine’s dark eyebrows shot up. “How is that a problem? Girl, you don’t have time for the love of your life. Between this job, your cheer jobs, and your mom, you exhaust me—and I parent twin four-year-old maniacs. What you have time for is one smokin’ hot guy to hit you up
but good
a few times and then get the hell out of your way.”

Grace had never been a hit-and-run kind of girl. But Jasmine was right about one thing—she didn’t have any room in her life for the complications of a reciprocal relationship.

Jasmine crossed her arms and leaned her shoulder against the doorjamb. “Go after what you want—
on your terms
. Go after him the same way you’re going after this studio. You can be diligently single-minded, girl. Just shift your focus from business to pleasure.”

Grace glanced down the hall, where Josh was talking with the twins’ father while the boys played at their feet.

A fling? With Josh? That was ridiculous. A disaster waiting to happen. “This has been one
hell
of a long day already.” She returned her gaze to Jasmine. “Would you mind telling the girls I’ll be right out?”

Josh turned and started back down the hall, grin happy, stride confident.

“I’ll tell the girls that you’re…indisposed…for the time being.” Jasmine passed Josh in the hall on her way back to the dressing room, and punched his shoulder. “If you spoil my boys, they’re coming to live with you.”

“And I could take you up on that,” he said, grinning. “They’re great kids. Kudos, Mom.”

When he continued toward Grace, Jasmine turned with a hand over her heart and mouthed
oh my God
to Grace before leaving them alone.

All Grace’s anger had mellowed into confusion, complicated by all the lust zinging around her body.

“Josh,” she said. “This isn’t my club. You can’t just come in here and start renovating. And this kind of work can’t be good for your shoulder.”

He put one hand on the wall, one on his hip, and crossed one ankle over the other, all his perfection beautifully on display for Grace. And she was having a hell of a time keeping her gaze on his handsome face.

“I’ve made all the arrangements necessary with Dean,” he said. “And this type of work is exactly what my shoulder needs. Weights give it strength, but this increases mobility, helps develop fine motor movements—something I don’t get enough of in my current job.”

She crossed her arms, caught between anger and…what? Shock that he’d taken the initiative? Suspicion that he was working on a project that would only make her work here better, when he’d been clear about not wanting her working here at all? “Isaac told me you’re doing consulting work in LA.”

“I am,” was all he said, adding to Grace’s frustration.

She wanted to know about his life, his work. Wanted to know if he was happy. If he ever regretted the move. If he ever missed San Diego. If he ever missed her. Yet, she didn’t. “You are…
maddening
.”

“I’m good like that.” His grin deepened with a sheepish edge. “But hey”—he gestured to the blueprints Grace had paid to have created— “I got the plans from the contractors, and I’m following them to the letter, just the way you wanted.”

She shook her head, a hole growing in the pit of her stomach. “Look, I know you want to help, I know you love Mom, and I know—in your own way—you care about me. But I also know what’s going to happen here.

“You’re going to start this project with a golden heart and great intentions, then leave for Christmas with your family. Then something’s going to come up at work, and you’re going to leave this half-finished, forcing me to pick up the pieces.” She threw her hands out to the sides and let them drop. “I’m sorry, Josh, but I’m done letting men interfere with my life, take over, and in the end, screw up everything.”

Josh’s smile evaporated. He exhaled and started toward the doors.

Guilt cut at her heart, but this was self-preservation. She couldn’t go back to the way things had always been. “I’m sorry, Josh. I really am.”

Instead of walking out, he closed the doors. Then turned and pressed his back there. “You’re right. Beck has spent seven years interfering in your life. I’ve spent at least three. But when I said everything had changed earlier, I meant it.”

Why
wasn’t she getting through to him? She crossed her arms, failing from keeping her gaze off his torso. It was impossible. He was like a damn sculpture, and she couldn’t stop staring. Or wanting. Or aching.

“And I know you’ve heard that before,” he continued. “But this time, I’m going to show you. I’m not going home for Christmas. I’ve already called my family and told them I won’t make it because I have something very important here to take care of.”

“You canceled Christmas with your family?” Shock sizzled through her chest. “Josh,
no
.
No
.”

She lowered her head, closed her eyes, and rubbed her temple. Now she felt guilty. And angry. And grateful. And touched. And so fucking confused.

“I’m spending Christmas here with you and Carolyn and your crew,” he said, his voice coming closer. His hands wrapped her biceps gently. He smelled so completely male, with a touch of sweet sweat and light spice. The hunger inside her gnawed. “And before you accuse me of doing this because I feel guilty, you need to realize there’s a difference between caring and obligation. And I care about you, Grace. I know my ways of showing it might feel heavy-handed to you, but that’s just me trying to get past your stubbornness.

“I was thinking about what you said earlier, about me picking up the cost for your mom’s care not being realistic, and you were right. That’s not the answer. You need a steady income for as long as your mom needs to live at the house. Which got me to thinking about what Dean told me—that you want to build this studio and teach from here. And that, I realized, is a perfect idea. I’m just helping it along.”

She felt her heart opening. Felt herself falling.

Oh my God, no.

Don’t do it.

“Josh, honestly… I appreciate the thought, but it’s not healthy for me to have you around.”

He released one arm and tilted her chin up so she had to look into his eyes. “I’m going to change that.”

Before she could even roll her eyes, his lips touched hers in a gentle, lingering kiss. The action instantly drained all her tension. The release made her lightheaded. Then he kissed her again, and again, a little deeper each time. Her stomach floated. Every reason she had for pushing him away evaporated. And she opened to him.

Josh cupped her face and stroked his tongue into her mouth on a long groan of pure satisfaction that vibrated through her body. The man was an amazing kisser, using his tongue in teasing, tantalizing ways that made Grace think of erotic things, made her body heat and yearn. When she finally pulled away to breathe, she found herself backed against a wall, Josh’s muscular body fitted to hers in exquisite perfection.

He tipped his head and kissed her jaw, her throat, her neck, murmuring, “You amaze me, Grace.”

His attitude had taken an about-face. She didn’t know which way was up anymore.

“I don’t have time for this.” She breathed the words heavily, needing space to think. “I have to work.”

She stepped out from between his body and the wall and tugged at the edge of her top, realizing she still had to change. But she stood there a minute, unable to straighten out her mind enough to get her feet moving.

“What?” Josh finally asked, drawing her gaze.

She shook her head. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

He smiled, the expression a little smug, a lot sweet, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders as he walked her to the door. Before opening it, he kissed her temple and whispered, “Well, now we’ve got time to figure that out.”

Thirty minutes later Josh pulled his shirt back on and wandered down the hallway toward the club. The sugary female voice echoing through the club sang “Santa Baby”—not exactly what Josh would consider a stripper song. But what the hell did he know?