Читать книгу Soaring On Love - Joy Avery - Страница 13

Chapter 4

While Tressa showered, Roth scrounged up something for her to wear shopping. He placed the T-shirt and sweatpants on the bed, then went back downstairs. Removing Juliette, he went out onto the deck to free his trapped emotions through music notes. He played and played hard. A rigid and rough tone that would be considered too edgy for most. This soothed him.

Several minutes later he stopped abruptly and snatched the instrument from his lips. He deserved every damn bothersome emotion swirling around inside him. The harder he tried to deny the pull Tressa had on him, the stronger it became, like a spiteful monster taunting him with its power over him.

If he had just allowed Tressa to get out of his SUV at the hotel, all of this could have been avoided. Why had he brought Tressa here?

Dammit. He was losing control. He never lost control.

The scene from that morning played in his head—waking up with Tressa fast asleep in his arms. For an hour he’d simply watched her sleep, not moving a single muscle and risking waking her. She felt right in his arms. Too damn right.

At one point he’d been so damn hard he was surprised he hadn’t pushed her off the sofa. And when she subconsciously ground her ass against him, he thought he would die a slow and painful death. One thing was for sure, he didn’t stand a chance in hell against Tressa Washington.

He was good at hard and cold. So why did he keep dispensing soft and warm around her. Cater to your every need? Had he really said that shit? He chuckled. Yep. And the funny thing about it, he’d actually meant every word.

He raised Juliette to his lips again but reconsidered. With the mayhem inside him now, playing would terrify the wildlife.

Tressa was right here. Right here for the claiming. Why was he hesitating?

From the deck, he heard her cell phone vibrate again. The tenth time in the past hour. Cyrus’s no-good ass, no doubt. Tempted to answer the phone and tell the bastard to never call Tressa again, Roth resisted. Hell, for all he knew she wanted him to keep calling. She hadn’t actually taken any of his calls to tell him otherwise. Wouldn’t that have been the logical thing to do?

Wow. Wasn’t that the pot calling the kettle black? He hadn’t exactly jumped to take India’s calls, either. Well, at least she’d had the good gumption to stop calling, obviously realizing he’d rescinded her invitation to the cabin.

Venturing back inside, he stored Juliette, then fixed himself another cup of coffee while he waited for Tressa so they could go to the store. Roth chuckled. Tressa’s presence was definitely going to shock the hell out of Glen. He hoped the man didn’t jump to any conclusions. He and Tressa were just friends. And that was how it had to remain. At least for now. At least until he was sure she was over her ex. And right now he wasn’t so convinced that she was.

* * *

Tressa and Roth arrived at The General Store. Tressa originally assumed it was what Roth called it, but that was actually the name. The General Store. Couldn’t get more generic than that. The airy barnlike structure resembled something from an old Western movie from the outside, but the inside was anything but old-timey.

Everything occupied the large store, including clothing. That was great because, though she was grateful, Roth’s baggy St. Claire Aeronautics T-shirt and oversize black sweatpants didn’t exactly make her a walking fashion movement. Nor did the stilettos she wore with it. And the mountain jacket swallowed her whole. But that part was okay, because Roth’s scent saturated it. It was like having his warm arms swaddled around her all over again.

Her thoughts went to waking in his arms that morning. She couldn’t recall ever experiencing a more peaceful night of sleep—well, until Roth started flinching in his sleep. Whatever he’d been dreaming kept him active.

Falling asleep on the sofa with Roth was one mistake she would not make again. The lapse in judgment had pushed her body to the brink of sexual insanity. Stubborn, passionate, whatever you wanted to call it, that had definitely been one battle she hadn’t picked wisely.

“Lord, look who the mountain lion done dragged in.”

Tressa followed the raspy voice to a short, round man. His long-sleeved denim shirt was buttoned all the way to the top and tucked into a pair of faded jeans held in place by green suspenders. With a head full of wiry salt-and-pepper hair, the older man kind of reminded her of her grandfather. God rest his soul.

A very docile dog with paws the size of saucers ambled up to Roth and brushed against his pant leg in the same manner an adoring cat would do. Roth rubbed his large head. “What’s up, Shank?”

Shank’s appreciation of the attention was clear, his back leg pumping harder the more Roth rubbed him. If Tressa hadn’t known any better, she would have sworn the dog had smiled.

Tressa hung back while Roth, the gentleman and Shank socialized, but she could hear their conversation.

“Nettie told me you were coming to town. Since you’re gonna be here a week, make sure you stop by for supper before you leave. You know Nettie will be hurt if you don’t.”

“I don’t think I’ll get by this trip. I’m only here for the weekend.”

Confusion crinkled the man’s aged dark brown skin. “I thought Nettie said you were here for the week.”

Roth clapped him on the shoulder. “Change of plans.”

Was the change because of her?

“Well, shucks. It’s probably for the best. They’re calling for snow Monday. Could be a headache.” For the first time, his swamp-green eyes trailed to Tressa. “Or romantic. ’Pends on how you view it, I suppose. Hello, beautiful.” He brushed past Roth.

“Glen, this is my friend Tressa,” Roth said.

Tressa wasn’t sure why Roth’s use of the word friend bothered her, because it was exactly what they were. Friends. Just friends. “Hello.” She offered her hand, but Glen pulled her into an embrace that suggested they’d known each other for years. Okay, then. A hug it is. Unlike with Roth, Shank had little interest in her and disappeared behind the counter.

When Glen held her at arm’s length, his round cheeks blossomed. “Well, it’s a pleasure meeting you, friend Tressa.” Glen cut his eyes in Roth’s direction. “And any friend of this man’s is definitely a friend of mine.”

Tressa noted Glen’s obvious admiration for Roth.

Glen continued, “I know you haven’t gone through all of that food my Nettie took to your place.” He clapped a hand on Roth’s shoulder. “My wife likes to make sure this joker is taken care of. And when she heard it might snow...she packed like a famine was coming.” Glen sounded a huge laugh that made his stomach jiggle.

Ah. Nettie was Glen’s wife. The information sent a hint of satisfaction through her.

“Nettie left plenty,” Roth said. “We just need to gather a few other things.”

The front door chimed, drawing their attention.

“All right. Well, holla if you need me,” Glen said and moseyed away.

Tressa glanced up at Roth. “You were supposed to stay a week?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, but it’s—”

“It’s not okay.” Normally, he was the one finishing her thoughts. “Don’t let me disrupt your plans again. I already feel bad enough. We’re staying the week. I, for one, wouldn’t want to disappoint Nettie.”

Roth laughed. “You did hear the part about snow, right? We could get stuck here beyond a week. Frankly, I’m not sure I can put up with you for more than a week.”

Tressa’s mouth fell open, and she swatted him playfully. “How rude.”

“I’m just kidding. You’re great company.”

She was in no rush to get back to Raleigh. The more time she could spend in Silver Point, getting her thoughts together, the better. “I’m okay with getting stuck here. I have nothing better to do.”

Roth folded his arms across his chest. “What about your job?”

“Twelve days on, twelve days off. I’m in my twelve-days-off stretch. And I don’t start new culinary classes until the spring.” Man, she was really pleading her case. And for the first time, she considered that maybe Roth’s plans had changed because he hadn’t wanted to spend a full week with her. Backpedaling, she said, “But you’re probably right. Staying a week is probably a bad idea.” When Roth laughed, she shot him a disapproving look. “What’s so funny?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“What?” she repeated, adding a hint of bass to her voice as if it would force this rugged man to yield to her demand for information.

“You’re delaying the inevitable, Tressa,” he said plainly.

Delaying the inevitable? Inwardly, she sighed. Of course, they were back on the engagement party again. “I’m not delaying anything, Roth. I’m—”

“Running?”

Tressa shot him a narrow-eyed gaze. “Excuse me?”

He flashed his palm. “You know what? It’s none of my business.”

“You’re right. It’s not any of your business. So please stick to designing airplanes and refrain from trying to analyze me.” She rolled her eyes and stalked off. Running? Ha. The nerve of him to make such an outlandish assessment simply because she wanted to enjoy the beauty of the mountains. Just like a damn man.

Running.

She wasn’t running from anything. She planned to face her situation head-on, but not until she was ready.

A few steps from Roth’s SUV the lights blinked twice, letting her know he’d unlocked the vehicle. Yanking the door open, she hurled herself inside. A second later the doors locked and Roth activated the auto-start feature. It wasn’t long before warm air blew through the vents, and she closed them in protest, then laughed at herself. The only one who would suffer if she froze to death would be her.