Sweet Waters (23 page)

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Authors: Julie Carobini

BOOK: Sweet Waters
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Josh grumbles and groans. “I can't drive.”
He needs me to pick him up. Now
this
I'm used to. I smile. “So you're at my mercy then.”
Josh is quiet for a moment. “Sounds like a place I'd like to be.”
My heart does one of those flips that's reserved for women on the brink of diving deep into churning waters. Do I really need a man like Josh right now? Someone who is hell-bent on being a daredevil when what I really long for is a calm and steady hand as I continue to delve into my family's past?
He doesn't wait for my answer. “I'm home now. Will you come for me?”
My flipping heart melts at his request and I know the truth. It's too late. I've already taken the plunge. Big time.
I only hope I can remember how to swim. “Guess this means you'll need to tell me where you live.”
He gives me directions, the sound of relief in his voice lifting my wavering heart. At least for the time being.
Chapter Twenty-two
Josh lives just minutes from my rental cottage. Minutes. He could even walk over, say, if he hadn't just suffered a concussion. I pull up in front of what looks like it should be nestled in the mountains somewhere, a cabin wrapped in stained wood with a jacaranda tree in front, its purple flowers nearly spent.
Being here makes seeing Josh again all the more real, and conflicting feelings climb their way through me. When I came to Otter Bay, I wasn't looking for a man; I'd just gotten rid of one, although admittedly, not by choice. Josh has stirred up something fresh and exhilarating within, like a roller coaster that throws in a couple of quick twists after the initial death-defying drop.
The tune of my cell phone jars the quiet. “Hello?”
“Tara, it's Camille.”
“Oh, Camille. You okay?”
She sniffles. “Yeah. I am.” Muffled tears make it through my earpiece. “I just wanted to say th-th-thank you for saving me from that . . . cr-creep.”
My brows crinkle. “Um, you're welcome. Are you sure you're okay?”
She doesn't answer right away, then Mel comes on the line. “Hey, Tara. I found her at the beach, kicking the snot out of Shane.” Camille's crying gets louder. “She found him here with naked girl.”
“Oh, no. Listen, I'm at Josh's, but I'm going to come home—”
“Don't do that. Camille and I have plans to check out her new school today. Go see Josh. You need something tempting to distract you from all this weirdness.”
I sit back. My initial reaction is to protest, to throw my car in reverse and be Camille's cavalry. Isn't that what Eliza would do? I flinch. Eliza. I'm still not sure she should've taken things with her son's fiancée to quite that extreme . . .
“Tara, you still there?”
I shake away my random thoughts. “Y-yes. Still here. If you're sure you don't need me, then I guess I'll just stay with Josh.”
Mel's laugh roars into the phone. “You
guess
you'll stay with Josh! Please. The man's harem-worthy, Tara, or are you blind?” She snickers. “Nah, I've seen the way you run your eyeballs all over him.”
“I do not!”
“Yeah, whatever. Try not to get too bored over there. I've got this covered.”
She clicks off and I stare at my phone. A movement near the driver's side window catches my attention and I look up. Josh peers in at me. I jerk, slapping the back of my hand against the parking break.
I laugh, but my voice shakes. Is my heart zipping along because of this fright, or because of the man with the magnetic eyes watching me from behind the glass? He taps the door, eyeing me with a mischievous grin, as I unlock it and step out.
“Thought maybe you were second-guessing yourself in there.” He reaches for me.
I scowl at him, or at least give it my best attempt. “Were you spying?”
He shrugs. “A little. Let's go in.” He lays an arm across my shoulder and ushers me toward his cabin, the ground strewn with slim, purple petals and thick piles of pine needles.
I stop. “Should you be on your feet?”
He winks at me. “Nope.”
“You're making me nervous.”
“Ah honey, I promise not to ravish you, at least not in my current condition.”
I stop again, this time rooting myself in place. His eyes dance along with his dazzling smile. Maybe he's on morphine or something.
“What?” He looks genuinely confused.
“I, uh, didn't come here for, you know, that. Not
that
I don't find you attractive.” Now
there's
an understatement! I take a breath. “It's just that, well, I ended a long relationship recently and, uh . . .”
Josh furrows his brows and my heart sinks at the look on his face. I get it. He doesn't want to hear my
no
right now. I can tell. He just suffered a concussion, but apparently head trauma's not enough to stop a man on a mission. He drops his arm from my shoulder, and for some reason this causes me to hold my breath.
“What you must think of me.”
I let out my breath at his sad words and turn my chin upward. He continues navigating the path to his front door. “You didn't seem very happy when you left my hospital room yesterday, so I'd hoped we'd be able to sort things out by talking about it.” He pauses. “Trust me when I say that I didn't call you over here to seduce you.”
I rub my lips together, at a loss over what to say. What is wrong with me? Why do I keep thinking—and saying—the worst? This man is the whole package, and yet something's holding me back.
There's a lift again to his voice as he holds open the screen door for me. “Not that I don't find you attractive or anything.”
I step in through the doorway and wave both my hands. “Okay, okay. Truce. Let's not go there.” The words have barely rolled off of my lips when Josh pulls me into his arms and kisses me like one very healthy man.
Extremely
healthy. Behind us, the wooden screen door closes with a succinct bounce. A gull caws across the sky. My toes, I believe, have left the ground.
Josh pulls away, his eyes staring into mine. He holds me at arm's length. “I'm sorry.”
I still feel the warmth of his kiss on my lips. “You're . . . sorry?”
He rakes his fingers through his hair, his face sheepish. “I got carried away. I really meant what I said, that I didn't ask you here to . . .”
“I know.”
“I'm usually very careful . . . uh . . . what I mean is . . .” He lets the wind flow through his teeth. “Tara, I'm not that kind of guy.”
My jaw clicks.
And you think I am that kind?
“I see.”
He touches my shoulders with both hands and looks upward. “No, I don't think you do. You just bring out . . . something in me.” His smile reminds me of a grimace. “Can we start over?”
I nod and he kisses me lightly, one hand barely touching my shoulder. A flutter tickles my insides.
He's smiling at me, a slight shadow stretching across his cheeks, the lines in his face smooth and distinct. “It's good to start again.”
The compassion in his gaze startles me. Trent? Trent who . . . ? I'm speechless and no longer offended.
“Tara?”
“Hm?”
“I'm feeling woozy.”
“Oh!” I slide my arm around his back and guide him toward the couch until he lowers himself into it. I stand up, my arms awkwardly wrapping around my middle. “You okay?”
His nod is accompanied by a grimace. I glance around, wondering if I should look for aspirin. For a bachelor who's out fighting fires and taking on myriad volunteer projects and other adventures, his house looks well lived-in. Loved, even. A picture of Josh and his parents wearing their Sunday best rests on a butcher-block end table. His furniture is neither ultramodern nor ancient history, but overstuffed and comfortable, in manly beiges—best not to mention that to my color-obsessed sisters. On the coffee table a bar of Irish Spring has been transformed into a baby chick.
He tries to pull himself up and I stop him by sitting next to him. His scent swirls around me. “You shouldn't be up. What can I get you? Aspirin? Some water?
Our eyes meet and we both lean back against the overstuffed couch. “I have what I need. I'm fine. This is normal.”
Normal? This is anything but normal for me and yet I know what he means. My body sinks deeper into the cushion as I relax. Being here feels good and right and . . . natural. How could it be that just a few months ago I'd been planning my wedding to another man? Okay, only in my mind, but so what?
A cooing sound escapes me as I daydream, causing Josh to laugh. “I'm glad we kissed and made up.”
A shadow falls across us and my eyes flicker toward the door. A tall lump of a man presses his nose against the screen. “Josh. You in there?”
I rouse and Josh shushes me with a whisper. “Maybe he'll go away.”
“We have to get it.”
Josh's body stays still, but he lifts his chin and twists his face toward the door. “Scram! We don't need any.”
The guy scoffs and pulls open the door. When he enters, I recognize him as Billy, the firefighter who's been in the diner lately. “A little bump on the head and you think that . . . oh.” He whistles. “Sorry. Didn't realize you weren't alone—that your 'stang out there?”
I extricate myself from Josh's side and stand. “I'm Tara. Yes, that's my car.”
He nods, appraising me. “Sweet. Hey, didn't I see you over at the RAG?”
“With my sisters, yes.”
We're smiling and nodding and completely awkward. Billy speaks first. “Well, I just came by to check up on Joshy-boy, but I can see that he's being well taken care of.”
Josh stays put. “Thanks for stopping in.”
Billy walks backward to the door. “But don't let the door smack me on the behind on my way out, right?” He laughs at his own joke. “Between you and Beth, I got nowhere else to go.”
Josh's forehead wrinkles. “What about Beth? Things not working out so well with her? I thought you two were together.”
Faint pink trails across Billy's face. His grin fades and his eyes dart between Josh and me. “We're getting there. She's having a bad day, though, so I, uh, told her we'd try again tomorrow.”
Josh nods and it's obvious to me that he's drawing some kind of conclusion. He purses his lips, his focus on Billy intense, as if trying to decipher what's on his friend's mind. Billy glances at me, then settles a small grin on his face, as if everything's just dandy. He begins walking backward toward the door again before halting. “Wait. I forgot to ask. Junior wants to know if you're bringing a date to his wedding. Luanna's been asking.”
From awkward to where's-the-door-and-how-fast-can-I-get-out-of-here? I hold myself still, as if this will somehow dissipate the sudden pin-drop silence. Josh reaches for my hand and gives it a tug. “Haven't had a chance to find out.”
I meet his gaze and notice the quirk in his mouth. His expression tells me he's asking me to be his date, but I wait for a more formal invitation. Trent had this irrational belief that I somehow suckered him into asking me out that very first time. The “legend” as it became known, was one of his favorite stories to tell at parties. I got tired and stopped denying it.
Josh's fingers play with mine, but I just cock my head and continue to wait.
Billy laughs and it sounds like he really means it this time. His face has become bright and animated. “Looks like you're gonna have to try harder, my man.”
Josh rubs the back of my hand with his fingers, eyes unwavering. “Go with me?”
My reaction reminds me of one of those dreams where you try to say something, but your mouth gets stuck in some kind of warped slow motion. I respond, but it comes out sounding more like a string of half words.

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