Читать книгу Worth The Wait - Lori Foster - Страница 7
ОглавлениеHOGAN STEPPED OUTSIDE the front door, but didn’t secure the door behind him.
He had no intention of leaving.
God, the sight of her in nothing more than a snug T-shirt and boner-inspiring panties will be forever burned on my brain.
Her nipples had been visible through the thin cotton of the top, making his damned mouth water. And her skin, especially over the gentle curve of her belly, had felt like silk. Warm silk.
The urge to brush his mouth over her, to inhale her scent, had been nearly impossible to ignore. But despite his more recent lacks, he wasn’t completely lost to civility, so he’d tucked her up and escaped.
No, he definitely wouldn’t leave her.
Sitting on the front step of her porch, he called Colt first.
Without a single sign of sleepiness, Colt answered, “What’s up? She okay?”
It was the middle of the damned night, practically morning, so Hogan asked, “Why aren’t you in bed?”
“I was, but I was also waiting to hear from you.”
“You’re there alone?”
“No, I sneaked in three girls. Make it four. Uncle Jason and Honor never noticed. I mean, there’s what? Thirty feet separating the houses? And Honor called twice to check on me, but I completely fooled her. I hid all the girls under my bed.”
“Smart-ass.” Hogan grinned. Colt was, by far, the best part of him.
Colt laughed as he said, “It’s just Diesel and me.”
The dog was good company, and good protection—not that Colt needed it. “I won’t be home tonight at all, but I’ll check back in the morning.” Briefly, he explained about Violet and that he didn’t want to leave her alone in case she needed anything.
Colt said, “At least she doesn’t make you hide under the bed.”
Frowning, Hogan wondered at his joke. “Don’t make more out of this than there is.”
“I won’t.” With definite amusement in his tone, Colt added, “I know you do goodwill sleepovers with all kinds of women. Doesn’t mean anything at all.”
“Colt,” he warned.
“Good night, Nurse Guthrie. Tell Violet I hope she feels better soon.”
As he disconnected the call, Hogan blew out a breath. Great, all he needed now was for rumors to get started. Who wouldn’t believe them, especially if they were spread by his son?
He glanced back at the door. Would Violet mind? He didn’t think so. She didn’t strike him as a woman who cared much what others thought. Then again, no one would have any reason to think anything less than positive.
Violet was a strong woman—intelligent, warm, hardworking, beautiful, sweet... Jesus. Hogan ran a hand over his face.
What struck him most was the fact that Colt had teased him about it. Because it was Violet? Since the death of his mother, Colt hadn’t said much about Hogan dating, but his silence on the matter had been more damning than words anyway.
He’d hurt Colt, and he hated that. Didn’t matter that he’d been hurting, too.
Colt hadn’t been silent about Violet. No, instead he’d joked. Maybe he knew Violet was too discriminating to get involved with him.
Rather than brood, he dialed his brother next.
Jason, at least, had been sleeping. He answered with a very groggy “What’s wrong?”
“Sorry to wake you. I’m going to stay over at Violet’s and Colt is already in bed. He’s got Diesel there with him, but if you wouldn’t mind—”
“Honor’s been mothering him,” Jason said around a yawn. “No worries.”
Of course she had. Honor was a true sweetheart; she and Colt had a very special relationship. Diesel did sometimes stay the night with Jason, sort of picking and choosing between the two houses at his own whim, but likely he’d either known Colt was alone and felt protective, or Honor had insisted he keep the dog with him. Either way, he was relieved.
Hogan felt like a schoolboy explaining, but he did so anyway. “Violet has pneumonia. She was pretty hammered by the time we got back from the ER. She’s crashed right now, but I figured I’d—”
“Got it. Take good care of her, okay?”
In the background, Hogan heard Honor ask, “What’s going on? Take care of who? Is Colt okay?”
Jason said only, “Hogan’s sleeping over at Violet’s.”
Alarmed by how he put it, Hogan protested, “Don’t make it sound like—”
Honor seemed far more alert when she sang, “Oh, he is, is he?”
“Damn it, Jason, tell her—”
To Honor, Jason said with far too much gravity, “You know how noble my brother is.”
They both laughed. At him.
Hogan heard some shuffling, a few whispers, and Jason said, “Later, brother.”
Standing, Hogan put away his phone and leaned on the rail, looking out over the quiet street, most of the porch lights glowing in boxy homes set close together. Single-car driveways, mature trees everywhere.
Before long the sun would be up. On Saturdays, kids played in their yards and on every cul-de-sac, crowding the sidewalks with their bikes. Older folk walked their older dogs and groused about the bikes. Hogan smiled. The area was as different as night and day to where he used to live in Columbus.
He didn’t use to think so, but now he knew it was better. Cleaner. Calmer.
A whole new life greeted him here—now if only the old life didn’t still plague him.
Pushing that aside as he often did, he wondered if Violet was sleeping okay. He’d like to go in and check on her, but she thought he’d left. She was in her bed, not fully dressed, and he didn’t want to intrude further. It was enough to stay over on her couch.
He saw again her slim body nestled in that big bed. From the day he’d met her, he’d appreciated her fair skin and red hair. She was so petite that with one splayed hand he could span the width of her from hip bone to hip bone. But her breasts weren’t small. Not really large, either. Just full and soft and perfect.
Closing his tired eyes, Hogan breathed deeply.
Heavy humidity thickened the night air and filled his lungs. Insects carried on a cacophony of sounds, and when he listened closely he could even hear frogs in the large creek that served as a social gathering spot for the small town.
Clearbrook was a good place. Peaceful, close-knit, filled with friendly people. He discounted the remaining crime element since incidents were fewer and far between. The refurbishing of the town had been, by all accounts, a huge success. What used to be a slum area was now occupied by middle-class families.
Since he’d gone from a prestigious accounting firm to a small local business, supplemented by weekend restaurant work—that now included him and Colt.
Heading back inside, he quietly closed and locked the door. He flattened his mouth at the sight of the short, squat couch, but he wouldn’t roam her house looking for a guest room.
After turning down the volume on his phone and setting it on the coffee table, he sat on the couch and removed his boots and socks, peeled off his shirt, then unsnapped and unzipped his jeans. He’d like to lose the jeans, but yeah—probably not a good idea.
There was no way to stretch out, so he sprawled as best he could, his head and one calf on the sofa arms, one leg dropping over the side. He snagged the knit throw over the back of the couch, half-heartedly tossed it over his body and closed his eyes.
He thought of Violet.
He thought of her panties.
Soon he was sound asleep and dreaming.
* * *
Violet found him on her couch. At 8:00 a.m., it was too early to be up, especially after the late night, but when she’d gotten up to use the bathroom and find more ibuprofen, she’d heard a snore.
It didn’t scare her only because she immediately guessed the source.
Her first thought when she found him there was that he was too big for her couch, his shoulders too wide, his legs too long.
Keeping the comforter swaddled around herself, she tipped her head and studied him—specifically she studied his body. Still wearing jeans, now open, he rested on his back, one arm above his head, the other folded over his stomach. Only a corner of the throw blanket covered him; the rest was on the floor with his right leg. He looked in danger of sliding over the side with it any moment.
Of course she’d seen him without a shirt many times at neighborhood picnics, but she hadn’t been able to stare then, not with him so aware of her and neighbors all around them.
Now her eyes felt gritty, and she stared anyway. A sparse covering of crisp, dark hair went from his collarbone to just below his pecs, faded in a narrow line to his navel, then widened a little before disappearing into his jeans. Beneath his raised arm she saw softer hair.
She’d teased him about being hairy, but in truth, she thought he was the sexiest man she’d ever known. She loved his masculinity, which included that enticing dark hair.
Sleep masked his usual edgy persona so that he looked more peaceful now. His hair stuck up in tufts and beard shadow darkened his face. He, his brother and his son all had the most amazing, enviable lashes. They were long and thick, and looking at him, Violet liked the way they rested on his high cheekbones.
He wasn’t overly muscle-bound, but there was no denying the strength of his lean, toned body. Even in sleep his biceps were pronounced. Her gaze traveled over his shoulders, down his body again to his flat stomach. Out of self-preservation she skimmed her gaze over the bulge inside his jeans to glance along the length of his long, strong legs and down to his feet. She admired them, as well.
She would have gone on admiring him except that she drew in a breath—and coughed.
Hogan stirred, shifting his big body, stretching a little before opening one eye.
Violet froze. Damn him, he looked gorgeous sleep-rumpled, while she knew she looked completely wrecked. Only half her hair remained in the ponytail, and she was so weak, she started to shake.
“Morning,” Hogan rumbled.
“Good morning.” Trying for sarcasm, she asked, “Comfortable?”
“Not really. Your couch is too short.” He stretched again and sat up with a wide yawn.
Unmoving, Violet watched him scratch his belly, and she said with accusation, “You stayed over.”
“Yeah.” After running both hands through his mussed hair, he checked the time on his phone. Giving her another long look, he patted the seat beside him, no doubt still warm from his body. “Sit before you fall.”
She didn’t want to, but her body wasn’t giving her much choice. She stepped around the table and dropped at the far end of the couch, which wasn’t all that far.
Scooting closer to her, he touched his palm to her forehead. “Still feverish. You need more medicine?”
“I just took it. That’s how I found you.”
“Gotcha.” He frowned at her hair, deftly removed the band to free it and smoothed it down, massaging her scalp in the process.
Heaven.
He stole his magic fingers away. “Are you a coffee person or a juice person?”
“I’m not a baby.”
With a short laugh, he agreed, “Definitely not.”
She started to say she could get her own coffee, but she truly didn’t feel like it. Putting her head back and closing her eyes, she said, “Maybe both?”
“Juice now, coffee when it’s ready?”
She nodded, her eyes still closed.
“You can thank me, Violet.”
“Thank you.”
His fingers skimmed her cheek and she heard the smile in his voice when he said, “Be right back.”
Somehow in the time it took him to pour orange juice into a glass, she’d fallen asleep. She opened her eyes to see the juice on the end table beside her. In the kitchen, the coffeemaker spit and hissed.
Down the hall, a toilet flushed, water ran and Hogan emerged, his jeans now fastened, his shirt still off, his feet still bare.
Damn, he looked good like that.
He also looked good in her house.
“Sleep if you want,” he said as he passed her. “It’s the best thing for you.”
She drank half the juice and nodded off again.
Hogan’s voice, talking quietly on the phone, awoke her the second time. She saw that sunshine now flooded her front windows. More sluggish than she ever could have imagined, she sat up and tried to gather her wits.
She focused on Hogan in the kitchen, fully dressed, his hair less messy but with whiskers still on his face.
“I can probably take Violet’s car this morning, but I don’t want to leave my bike in the parking lot.” After waiting for a reply, Hogan said, “Yeah, that’d work. Appreciate it.”
Who said he could take her car? Take it where?
“No, she won’t make it in today. Damned pneumonia has really leveled her.” As he softly spoke, Hogan turned to face her, then smiled at seeing her awake. Holding her gaze, he nodded, saying, “Yeah, I’ll figure it out. Thanks again.” He pocketed the phone and moved out of sight.
“I’m going into work,” she told him, but raising her voice put her into a coughing fit.
He appeared with the coffee. “I reheated it.”
Grudgingly, she accepted. Because he’d worked with her for a few weeks now, he knew she liked cream and sugar and the coffee was perfect, even better than the juice. “Thank you.”
He surveyed her. “Are you hungry?”
“No.” More than anything, she wanted to sleep. More and more sleep. She tried for a slow breath and managed to do it without coughing too much. “I’m sorry I keep conking out.”
“I’m glad you did.” He frowned, then sat beside her. “You can’t go into work. You’re an intelligent woman and you know it, but you’re also stubborn. Put the stubbornness aside for now, okay?”
“I have to go in. It’s mine and—”
“I can handle it. I have the weekend free and I know what I’m doing.”
“What, no hot date?” Hogan always had hot dates on the weekends, and sometimes during the week—at least until recently. “What about what’s-her-name? That kid.”
The corner of his mouth curled. “Emma? She was twenty-five, not a kid—”
“Ten years your junior!”
“—and I only saw her once.”
“I guess with you, once is enough?”
He cocked a brow. “Are you always this nasty in the mornings?”
“Yes,” she lied. God, she felt so awful, she wanted to curl up and sleep until she felt normal again. “Go away, okay?”
“I haven’t had a date since I started working for you.”
No, she didn’t want to hear that! That would mean he’d been dateless for weeks. “Poor baby, am I using up all your free time?”
Shrugging a shoulder, he grinned. “I could go out during the week, I guess. In fact, Friday, before I left the office, my boss hit on me.”
Violet stared at him, scowled and guzzled the rest of her coffee. I don’t want to picture you with another woman. Of course, it was already too late.
Glaring, she asked, “When are the two of you getting together?”
His gaze went to her mouth. “Never.” Gently, he took the coffee cup from her and set it aside.
“I take it she’s homely? Not built to your specifications?”
“She’s attractive enough. Big boobs.”
Trying for mock surprise, Violet said, “And you turned her down?”
“Let’s say I redirected her attention.”
“Redirected it how?”
“To a coworker who looked interested.”
“Oh my God, you’re bragging about passing her off to someone else?”
“Redirecting her,” he emphasized. “It’s not like she was looking to get married.”
“Because that would have really sent you running!” Good God, just shut up, Violet.
After a long look, he picked up the cup and stood. He was halfway to the kitchen when he stopped. Keeping his back to her, he said, “Obviously you know I was married once.”
Violet’s heart started to pound. “Yes.” And she was sorry she’d brought it up.
He looked back over his shoulder at her. “Marriage doesn’t scare me. But cheating, lying women do.”
* * *
Why the hell had he opened his mouth? So she’d been needling him. So what. Nothing new in that, not with Violet. The woman lived to give him a hard time.
Hours had passed since he’d left her sleeping on her sofa, and still he wanted to chew nails. Colt rapped at the back door of the diner and Hogan let him in.
“Uncle Jason said you were here. I was going to work with him today but he said you might need me instead.”
“Yeah.” Hogan rubbed the back of his neck. “I rearranged the schedule for Violet since she’s down for the count. In between taking medicine, she sleeps. The doctor at the ER said she’d be feeling better by Monday, but I think that only means less miserable, not ready to work.”
“She’s home alone now?”
Hogan didn’t like it, either, but he’d set her up on her couch as best he could, arranging her medicine nearby with a glass of juice, a bottle of water and the TV remote. “She’ll be okay. My guess is she’ll sleep most of the day away.”
Colt looked around. “So what can I do?”
Since Violet didn’t have a breakfast menu, the diner opened at noon. Kristy would be in soon, along with another employee. He’d already come up with a plan, so he got Colt going, then did some prep work on his ribs.
With that done, curiosity got the better of him and he moved to Violet’s office to take a look at her paperwork.
Just as he suspected, it was horribly dated, and as far as he could tell, she didn’t have a menu profitability analysis. Critical stuff in restaurant bookkeeping. He’d work on that, he decided, as well as catching her up, but he’d maintain all her regular records, too.
Violet could be prickly. No reason to fire her up more.
Around three, Nathan Hawley, the sheriff, stopped in. Hogan wasn’t surprised when he came around back to sit in the shade.
“I went by to check on Violet.”
Hogan stiffened a little. Nathan was single, and he wasn’t blind. If he hadn’t been tempted by Violet, he had to be dead. “Yeah? How’s she feeling?”
“She told me to go away, and that if I saw you, to tell you to go away, too.”
“How can I go away when I’m not even there?”
“I didn’t ask her,” Nathan said. “She was too limp for me to tease her. But I did notice she was propped on the couch watching a movie. Or pretending to watch it. Overall she looked like a zombie. I told her...”
Just then a single woman, carrying a drink and salad, dark glasses on her eyes, walked out. Ignoring them both, she went to the farthest section of the seating area, to a worn picnic table under a large maple tree.
She sat alone, with her back to them.
Hogan watched her, wondering about her since he’d never seen her before, then realized Nathan was watching her, too.
Amused by the sheriff’s distraction, he grinned. “You were saying?”
Without taking his gaze from the woman, Nathan asked, “What?”
Hogan shook his head. “Never mind. Who is she? Do you know?”
“New neighbor,” he murmured. “Real private.” Finally, Nathan got his gaze off her. “I saw her step outside this morning to jog. I waved, but she didn’t acknowledge me.”
“Does she know you’re the sheriff?”
“My car is parked in the driveway and it’s emblazoned on the side, so yeah, I assume so.”
“If being sheriff doesn’t impress her, maybe she needs to hear you sing.” Nathan cut a mean guitar and sang for the local garage band, the Drunken Monkeys. Where they’d gotten that name, Hogan had no idea. It all happened before he’d moved into the area.
“I wasn’t trying to impress her,” Nathan growled. “Just being neighborly.”
“She’s pretty.” Thick, straight, light brown hair, secured in a low ponytail, hung to the middle of her back. Snug yoga pants and a tank top showed a very nice figure. She still wore running shoes, looked a little sweaty, and gigantic sunglasses hid half her face. “She lives on the other side of you?”
“Moved in a few days ago.”
“Alone?”
“Far as I can tell.”
Just then the woman peered over her shoulder. Those ridiculous sunglasses kept them from knowing if she looked right at them or not, but it seemed likely.
Nathan said nothing, so Hogan did the honors and waved.
She turned back around.
“See what I mean?” Nathan frowned. “What are we supposed to think about that?”
“No idea.” Hogan swiped up a dish towel, wiped his hands, then headed toward her.
Startled, then quickly on board, Nathan followed.
Stopping at her table, Hogan smiled down at her. “Hi. Welcome to Screwy Louie’s.”
Very slowly she put her fork on her salad dish and looked up at him. “Thank you.”
“I’m Hogan Guthrie, the barbecue guru, and this is Nathan Hawley, your neighbor, the sheriff, and part of Drunken Monkeys, the local band.”
After all that, which he considered plenty to be a conversation starter, she only glanced up at Nathan and nodded.
Talk about a tough act... “New to the neighborhood, huh?”
Her mouth tightened—a very nice, very full mouth, Hogan noticed—and then she said, “Yes.” She hesitated, pulled off her sunglasses and tried a smile. “Thank you for the welcome. The salad was delicious. I need to get going now.” She stood, her “delicious” salad only half-eaten.
Nathan and Hogan stared.
She had beautiful eyes. Calling them light brown wouldn’t have done the unique color justice. They were brown, definitely, but golden flecks lightened the color. Fox eyes, maybe. Really startling.
Hogan got it together first. “Sorry we intruded. It’s a small neighborhood. No strangers, if you know what I mean.” He offered his hand. “Hope we’ll see you around again soon. Violet—she’s the owner here—would love to meet a new face, I’m sure.”
After replacing the sunglasses, she accepted a quick handshake, her hand small in his, her grip firm. Then she gathered up stuff.
To escape.
Before she left, she paused. “You’re here often?”
“Weekends only, usually.”
Nathan said, “I usually stop in for my lunch, then sometimes on weekends, too.”
Ho, so Nathan finally found his voice? Not that Hogan could blame him. He couldn’t wait to tell Violet about this little meet and greet. She loved to observe her customers.
As the woman left, Nathan fell into step beside her. “I’ll walk you out.”
She didn’t appear all that receptive, but still Hogan smiled at Nathan’s determination.
It occurred to him that she hadn’t given her name.
* * *
Throughout the day, Hogan got reports on Violet. The first time he called, she’d been napping and he’d disturbed her. After that, he asked her to call him and he kept his phone on him. She called twice, both times asking only about the restaurant.
She tried to dodge his questions, but he played tit for tat and wouldn’t answer her questions until she answered his.
No, she hadn’t eaten.
Yes, she had slept.
Yes, she’d taken her meds.
No, she didn’t need anything.
He sent Colt over to her house with some soup the cook made and a big glass of raspberry iced tea.
To Colt, she was apparently all sweetness, at least according to Colt. He’d stayed long enough to watch her eat and to pick up afterward.
By the time Hogan finished things that night it was nearly one in the morning. He packed up Violet’s accounting records and headed out.
She was still on the couch when he let himself in. A comb hadn’t touched her hair, and she was still in the same clothes.
The second he stepped in, she stirred awake, then forced herself to sit up. “Everything went okay?”
“Of course.” Keeping the files at his side, he strode into the kitchen and set them on top of the refrigerator. He’d rather give her his suggestions and his improvements when he finished. “How do you feel?”
“I managed to brush my teeth and wash my face. That’s as far as I got.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “Would you like a bath? I’ll get it ready for you.”
She pulled the comforter to her chin. “Yeah, I just bet you would.”
“I’m not into molesting near-comatose women, I promise.”
“Huh, so you do have some standards?”
Hogan drew a breath. She was sick, making her usual wit more sarcastic and mean-spirited. “Yes,” he said evenly, “I have standards.”
Their gazes held for a moment, and then she slumped farther on the couch. “I’m sorry. I’m being a bitch and I know it. I don’t like being sick and I detest relying on—”
“Me?”
“Anyone.” She rubbed her temples. “So far Colt is the only person I’ve managed not to offend. He’s just too damned sweet to be mean to.” She glanced over at him. “You’re sure he’s yours?”
Hogan laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure. Colt looks enough like Jason, who looks like our dad, to ensure the parentage.”
Hogan knew the moment she harked back on his earlier comment about cheating women.
Despite the fever, her face paled. “Oh God, I wasn’t suggesting—”
Gently, he said, “I know.” Coming to sit by her, he brushed back her hair. “You meant it as an insult to me. Comparisons, right?” He winked to let her know he hadn’t taken offense or thought she was serious.
“Yes, a joking insult, I swear.”
Luckily, Violet knew nothing about Colt’s mother. Otherwise she might have had some real questions.
But even if Colt hadn’t been his—after all, his wife had proved herself more than deceitful—it wouldn’t have mattered. Not to his heart. Colt was his, now and forever.
“About that bath?” He tugged at the sleeve of her very rumpled T-shirt. “I can run the bath, set out towels, then even help tie up your hair, if you want. You’ll probably feel better afterward.”
“You’re right about that. I wanted a bath, but it seemed like so much work...”
“It won’t be, not for me. Give me just a few minutes to set it up. And afterward, I’ll tell you about the new lady in town who almost made Nathan trip over his own feet.”
