Say No To Joe? (19 page)

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Authors: Lori Foster

BOOK: Say No To Joe?
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“Just because he's male doesn't make him helpless. Besides, I have a feeling Joe will insist on helping, so maybe Austin will want to, too.”
Smiling, Willow plumped her pillow, then hugged it to her chest. “Joe's different, isn't he?”
“I sure don't know any other men like him.”
“My mom used to say to me that you can't tell about men just by looking at them. She said a guy might look well-mannered and kind and smart, but when you got to know him, he could be an egotistical snake.”
Joe frowned. Had Chloe been speaking from experience ? Had she maybe even been referring to Austin and Willow's father? It'd make sense, seeing that the man left her alone to raise two kids.
“Do you think Joe is a snake?” Luna asked with surprise.
“No.” Willow's smile lingered. “I think it's just the opposite. When I first saw him, he looked sort of . . . I don't know. Big and dark and mean, like he could chew nails and enjoy it. I was . . . worried. Especially with Austin cursing and acting like such a brat. But as soon as I saw how he handled Austin, I knew he was okay.”
Luna neither confirmed nor denied his meanness. “Are you still a little afraid of Joe?”
“No.” Willow chewed her lip, then ventured into very adult ground. “But I think you are.”
“I trust Joe more than anyone I know.”
“You don't trust him not to break your heart,” Willow reminded her. “But as my mom said, you never can tell.”
Luna plastered on a very false smile. “We can talk about it more tomorrow, okay? Right now I really think you should get some sleep.”
“All right.” Not the least fooled by the diversion, Willow climbed into her bed with a sigh. “Luna? Thanks.”
“Thank
you.
I enjoyed our talk.” Luna kissed her cheek, turned out her light, and headed for the door.
Joe drew back down the hall and ducked into a bathroom. Damn. Why couldn't Willow be the average fourteen-year-old girl? Did she have to be a philosopher?
Was
Luna afraid of him? If so, she sure as hell hid it well.
He peered around the door frame. Luna came into the hallway, quietly pulled Willow's door shut, then went into her own room. Her light flicked off.
Joe let out a breath. Maybe he could sneak in there and reassure her. At least kiss her good night. He could tell her how proud he was of her, how he wanted to help.
Convinced of his altruistic motives, Joe was just about to leave his hiding spot when he felt breath on his back. His eyes widened in shock, and he whirled around. A small, pointy elbow connected with his ribs, right over a bruise.

Damn it
.”
In a whisper, Austin said, “You talk way worse than I do.”
Joe froze. He saw his plans for Luna—not so altruistic after all—evaporate into thin air. “What the hell?” He reached out, caught Austin's upper arm, and said, “Shh. What are you doing here?”
“I was gonna take a walk.”
Every hair on the back of Joe's neck stood on end. “Take a walk
where?”
“Around the lake.”
His heart almost stopped. He felt sweat pop out on his brow. “God help me.”
The scrawny muscles in Austin's arms bunched as he braced his hands on his hips. “If you tell on me, I'll tell on you.”
“What are you talking about? Tell on me for what?”
“For spying on Luna.”
For a brief moment, Joe wondered if he should awaken Luna to help him with this predicament, but he decided against it. She had her hands full, and surely, he could handle one very determined little boy.
Besides, he didn't want her to know that he'd been skulking around in the hallway, eavesdropping on her private conversation. She might be embarrassed. He knew for certain he'd feel like an ass.
And she might doubt his sincerity when he set about proving to her that he wouldn't break her heart.
How he'd prove that, he didn't have a clue. But he'd come up with something.
Joe stuck his head out the door and saw that no one had been alerted by their whispered conversation. “Come on,” he told Austin, and kept his long fingers around the boy's arm as he led him back to his room. “In you go.”
They stepped inside together, and Joe slipped the door shut. Now that they had some privacy, he spoke a little louder. “Do you have a night light?”
“Night lights are for sissies.”
“You're obsessed about this sissy stuff, aren't you? All right, never mind. There's enough moonlight to see.” He pulled Austin's drapes open, and pale bluish light spread into the room. “Now. Let's me and you talk.”
“Are you mad?” Austin seemed a little worried about that possibility.
“No.” Joe lifted him and sat him on the foot of the bed. “I'm concerned. That's an altogether different thing.”
“How's it different?”
Joe didn't have an answer to that. “Austin, surely you know you can't go walking around alone at night.”
“I do it all the time.”
Joe's brain throbbed. Damn Patricia and her earplugs. “Well, no more, my boy.” He gingerly seated himself beside Austin. That elbow had left an ache in places that were just starting to feel better. “First, I want you to know that I don't keep secrets from Luna. Ever. So don't try blackmailing me.”
“You were listenin' in.”
“I was,” Joe admitted, “but only because I was worried. I didn't announce myself because I didn't want to intrude.” Good. That sounded entirely plausible.
“You're going to tell Luna you were listenin'?”
Hell, now he'd
have
to. “In the morning. And I'm going to tell her that you thought to take a moonlight stroll.”
That had Austin frowning in disappointment and anxiety. “Will she be mad?”
“No, like me, she'll be concerned. Once Luna puts you to bed, she expects you to stay there.”
“What if I have to use the bathroom?”
“You can get up for that.”
“What if I need a drink?”
“That's okay, too.”
“What if I—”
“You can't leave the house, Austin. All right?”
Austin kicked his feet, hemmed and hawed and finally said, rather grudgingly, “All right.”
With as much sincerity as he could muster, Joe said, “Thank you. I appreciate your cooperation.” He stood. “Under the sheet now.”
Austin turned and crawled up to the top of the bed, then slipped beneath the sheet. Joe draped it over him. “Should I shut the curtains again?”
“Yeah. Moonlight is for—”
“Sissies. I know.” Despite himself, Joe chuckled. “You do what you want to do, but I intend to leave my drapes open. I like looking at the stars when I go to sleep. And don't you dare call me a sissy.”
“I wouldn't.” Silence, then, “I reckon I like lookin' at the stars, too.”
“Then we'll leave them open.” He ruffled Austin's shaggy hair. “Good night.”
“Night, Joe.”
Joe was still grinning a few minutes later when he sank into his own bed. Naked except for his boxers, he propped his arms behind his head and did, in fact, look out at the stars. He had a lot to think about, so much, in fact, he barely noticed the thin, lumpy mattress or the way his ankles hung over the foot of the bed.
With all that he'd overheard from Luna, things had just gotten doubly complicated. Her words left him a little confused, and that didn't sit well with him at all. Confusion led to indecision—something he'd never before allowed.
Because of the jobs he'd held, the way he lived on the edge, he'd always been forced to snap judgments. Shoot or be shot at, take a dangerous case for money or find a simpler one. Fight, or walk away.
He trusted his own instincts, so that method of deciding things had naturally carried over into his private life. Anytime he saw a woman he wanted, he either took her to his bed so they could both have a little fun or he'd recognize her need to nest and walk away from her before things got complicated—as they were now.
Snap decisions . . . But he'd stood behind them all. He'd made the decision to have Luna almost from the first moment he'd seen her, but hell, who could have predicted all this? Now he had to rethink things, and he damn well didn't want to. He wanted to go upstairs and crawl into bed with her and love her silly, until she forgot her reservations and that nonsense about him being a heartbreaker.
Disgusted, Joe sighed and closed his eyes. At least he'd gotten Austin to stay in his bed.
Or so he thought.
Chapter Nine
O
nly half awake, Luna stood at the sink pouring herself a cup of freshly perked coffee when Joe's door opened. Still bleary-eyed, she glanced up, and slowly, her gaze focused on him leaning in the door frame. She wouldn't have minded seeing him like that every day for the rest of her life.
The cup of coffee held suspended in her hand, she took in his mussed, inky black hair, his sleep-heavy blue eyes, and the very dark shadowing of beard stubble on his austere face. His chest was bare, and as she watched, Joe idly dragged a hand over his wide, sleek shoulder to his flat, hard stomach, rubbing a little, scratching a little—
turning her on
.
Around a deep yawn, he asked, “What time is it?”
Her vision blurred even more, and she clutched the countertop for support. Joe wore only his boxers, and she hadn't yet gotten used to seeing him like that. She doubted she'd ever get used to it. He was just so . . . male. So incredibly macho.
“Almost ten.” Luna lifted the much-needed coffee to her mouth and gulped, burning her tongue in the process.
Talking with Willow last night had only succeeded in bringing her feelings for Joe to the fore. She'd thought about him and ached in so many ways, sleep had been impossible. He was by far the most appealing man she'd ever met, yet he never intended to get seriously involved with her, much less with two kids.
Would she be foolish or wise to let him walk away without ever knowing how it felt to be naked with him, to have the memory of that broad, hard chest pressing down on her, to feel his mouth touch her in secret places.
To feel him inside her, as close as two people could get? Just thinking of it made her shiver in need.
Throughout the long night, she hadn't been able to find an answer. Now her head throbbed, and her eyes burned. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Shoring herself up, Luna forced herself to look at him again. “Coffee?”
Joe groaned, but the groan stopped in midrelease as she faced him fully and he gave her a sexually oriented once-over. “Damn, woman.”
Confused, Luna looked down at herself. The shirt she'd slept in was now badly rumpled. The harem pants had been exchanged for shorts because of the morning heat. She didn't wear a bra, but then, Joe had seen her without a bra before. And her hair . . . Because she'd tossed and turned all night, it had gotten horribly tangled, and she probably resembled a deranged witch.
She held the coffee cup with one hand and touched her hair with the other. “I needed the coffee so bad, I didn't take time to . . .” Her words trailed off as a fire lit behind Joe's eyes. He started toward her with sensual purpose. Uh oh. He didn't look half asleep now.
“Joe,” she protested, but the protest sounded weak even to her.
“I'm not at my sharpest in the mornings,” he told her in a low voice, “or I might have been able to deal with this. But I went to sleep last night thinking about you.” His hands slid to her waist, then around her, one going up her back to her nape, the other dipping low, just above her rear. “About this. Hell, I woke up wanting you, and now here you are, looking so damned sexy and soft and sweet.” That last word was growled, just before his mouth nuzzled into her throat. He eased her closer, and she felt his erection against her belly through the barriers of boxers and her tee.
Feeling wobbly, Luna quickly set the coffee on the counter and braced her hands against his wide, hard shoulders. She didn't push him away. The feel of his sleek, hot flesh intoxicated her. Her fingers curled inward, leaving indents in the thick muscles.
Joe grunted, in pleasure, in pain. “I can't take much more of this, babe.” He kissed her throat, the top of her shoulder. His warm breath fanned sensitive nerve endings, making her tingle. His whiskers abraded her cheek, her throat. And his hands . . . They continued to caress and entice and tease. “I don't know what's right, honey, I just know I have to have you.”
Luna shook her head, not in denial but in confusion. She stroked his chest, enthralled by the silky, crisp hair there. “Joe . . .”
“Tell me you want me, too.” He nipped her bottom lip. “Tell me.”
Her eyes started to drift shut again. Having him do this now, on the morning after she'd struggled so much, put her at a disadvantage. “I do.”
The breath left her when his thick arms tightened in reaction, and then his mouth closed on hers. He tasted morning warm and musky, his breath coming fast, his touch almost urgent. One wide hand opened on her bottom, lifting her to her tiptoes. He ground her against his erection. Their breathing became choppy, urgent.
“Oh, gross.”
Joe released her so fast, Luna almost fell. Almost as one, their heads jerked around and they stared at Austin as he opened the refrigerator and started to pull out a two liter of cola. His blond hair stood on end and his shorts were so loose, they were about ready to fall off of him.
Other than his initial comment, he paid them no mind at all.
Joe said, “Uh . . .”
Luna looked from Austin, who went to the cabinet for a glass, to Joe—who had an erection. Her eyes nearly fell out of her head, and she shoved him hard.
“Joe,”
she hissed in a frantic whisper. “Go get dressed.”
He turned to her, his face comically blank—until he heard Willow coming down the stairs. Then he moved faster than she'd ever seen a man his size move. His door closed with a thud.
In a semi state of shock, Luna stood there for two seconds before the hilarity hit her, and she burst out laughing. Austin looked at her, rolled his eyes, and she laughed even harder. She had to hold her sides to keep upright. It was a safe bet that Joe had never had a nine-year-old boy interrupt his seduction. He'd looked so stupefied, so utterly lost as to what to do. She snickered again.
Willow walked in, saw Austin with the cola, and made a beeline for him. “What's so funny?” she asked Luna even as she snatched the tall glass from her brother's hand before he could get a drink.
Austin made a face. “Joe was smoochin' up Luna and then he ran off.”
Willow gave Luna a woman-to-woman look and smiled. “Is that right?” She set the glass in the sink.
Austin said, “Hey! Give that back.”
“No Coke for breakfast, Austin. You know better.”
Luna peered at Willow. No Coke for breakfast? Why not? Was this one of those motherly rules that no one had ever told her about? Austin reached for the glass in the sink, and Willow smacked his hand.
Luna pulled herself together. She was supposed to be the guardian; she was supposed to relieve Willow of some of her burden. “Austin, Austin, Austin,” she chided as she crossed the floor to them, trying to sound as though she knew what she was talking about. “Willow's absolutely right. Coke for breakfast won't work. Why don't you drink some juice?”
“We don't have any.” Then he thought to add, “Patricia didn't care what I drank.”
Luna really didn't either. In fact, a cold Coke sounded good. But... “I'm not Patricia. Milk?”
“I hate milk.”
Willow poured him milk anyway. “Drink it.”
“No. It's gross.” Then, looking sly, he said, “Almost as gross as seeing Joe slobber on Luna's face.”
Willow shoved him. “Stop being so obnoxious, you little rodent.”
An argument ensued, leaving Luna lost. This situation was as new for her as it was for Joe. She needed time to wake up in the morning, time to gather herself. Instead, she was faced with a fast-growing battle of insults and shoves and spilt milk.
She looked from one child to the next, but all she could really see was the horrified expression on Joe's face. She started snickering again.
From in his room, Joe called out, “It's not that damn funny.”
Austin paused in his argument with his sister to yell to Joe in a gleeful, singsong voice, “You're bein' disrespectful again.”
Luna heard Joe's growl and struggled to get her chuckles under control. She turned to both kids, hoping to end the conflict before they came to blows. “How about pancakes?” she asked over their traded insults.
They paused and eyed her. Austin wore his patented expression of skepticism. “You're going to cook for us?”
“Breakfast?” Willow clarified.
Luna rolled her eyes. Did she look too incompetent to handle it? “Yes, it's this greatly honored American pastime. Pancakes, and maybe some bacon.” Thoughtfully, more to herself than the kids, she murmured, “I think I saw bacon in the refrigerator.”
Austin went very still. For a boy who'd just been calling his sister atrocious names, he somehow looked very sweet, and heartbreakingly vulnerable. “Mom used to cook us pancakes every Sunday.”
Nodding, Willow added, “And even sometimes during the week, instead of cereal.” Her voice was soft, nostalgic. “Patricia didn't like to cook much, especially not early.”
The mood in the room had just changed, leaving Luna at a loss. The kids were subdued, maybe even a little sad. She couldn't bear it. “Well, I like cooking, but only if I have hungry people to feed.”
Joe yelled out,
“I'm
hungry,” making Luna chuckle again.
Willow stared at her a moment more, then moved to the refrigerator. She opened it, rummaged around and finally pulled out a package. “Yes, we have bacon.”
“Great. Then how about I get cooking?”
Austin sized her up. “Can I have Coke with my pancakes?”
Both Luna and Willow said, “No.”
Austin turned his cannon on his sister again. “You ain't my boss.”
“Aren't your boss,” Luna corrected, then frowned at herself in confusion. God help her, she was starting to sound like a mother. Mostly under her breath, she mumbled, “At least, say it right.”
“What?”
Luna gave up. “Wait here. I'll get the food going in just a minute.” She went to Joe's door and opened it the smallest bit. Joe was pacing. He wore jeans now and had his arms up, his hands locked behind his head. His hair was even more mussed, his movements hard, rigid. He looked to be in pain.
Luna took a moment to appreciate the sight of him, the way his enormous biceps bunched in that position, how his wide chest expanded with each deep breath. With the dark, silkier hair under his arms visible, he looked more masculine, more macho than ever.
She sighed and stepped in, pulling the door shut behind her. “You okay?”
Pausing, Joe glared at her. He nodded down at a still impressive erection pressing at the front of his jeans and gave her a what-do-you-think look.
Luna smiled. “I'm sorry.”
“You do not look one damn bit sorry, Luna, so don't patronize me.” His chest expanded, and once again, he took a visual survey of her body. “God Almighty. You being in here isn't helping, babe.”
It made no sense to Luna. She had to look a wreck with her wild hair and lack of makeup and sloppy clothes.
As if he'd read her mind, he said, “You look like a woman who spent a sleepless night in bed.”
She nodded. “I did.”
Joe swallowed. “Me, too.”
Shaking herself, Luna tried to smooth her hair. “I've got terrible bed head.”
Several seconds passed, then Joe dropped his arms and drew a deep breath. He tugged at his ear, pressing the small earring there. “Since I suppose we're going to find ourselves in this situation more than once, I'll promise to ignore your hair if you'll ignore my morning wood.”
She slanted a look at his lap. “I don't know. That's pretty hard to ignore.”
“Don't.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “If you talk about it, it'll come back.”
Laughing, Luna back-stepped for the door. “All right. I'll give you five more minutes to do . . . whatever you do in the morning, then you can join us in the kitchen.”
He glanced at her face, noting the touch of whisker burn, thanks to him. “Make it ten, and I'll shave.”
“Deal.”
Luna reentered the kitchen to find both kids sitting like silent angels at the table. She paused. “What's this?”
Austin fidgeted in his seat. “Want me to set the table or somethin'?”
“I can help cook,” Willow offered. “Or we could just have cereal like we usually do so you won't have to bother.”
Luna looked from one solemn, sincere face to the next. “All right.” She put her hands on her hips and tapped one bare foot. “What's going on?”
Willow shrugged. “Nothing.”
But Austin wasn't one to remain quiet for long. “Willow said you and Joe were arguing cuz of us and we don't want you to get mad and go away so we promise to be good and help out around the place and I won't even drink Coke in the morning or make faces when you and Joe are smooching or argue with Willow—if she doesn't try to tell me what to do—and I won't sneak out at night anymore.” He drew a long, starved breath after all that.

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