Читать книгу Fool's Gold Collection Part 1 - Susan Mallery - Страница 17

CHARITY RETURNED TO the hotel and climbed the stairs toward her room. She wrestled with dozens of emotions, most of which she couldn’t identify. Without thinking, she stopped in front of Josh’s door and knocked.

It was a Saturday afternoon, she reminded herself. He wasn’t likely to be there. But seconds later he opened the door, looking as gorgeous as ever in a T-shirt and jeans. He needed a haircut, she thought, taking in the slightly shaggy hair. And a shave. She had to admit the scruff looked good on him.

“Hey,” he said, motioning for her to come in. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing bad. I went to see Marsha.”

He shut the door behind her, then took her hand and led her toward the sofa. But when they got there, she couldn’t sit. She felt restless and uneasy.

“Why?” she asked, facing Josh. “She was my mother. I know she cared about me. She knew I wanted to be part of a family. She knew that mattered to me more than anything. But she didn’t tell me, not even when she was dying. Not even after she was dead. That’s all it would have taken. A little note with a name and an address. But she didn’t bother.”

Charity couldn’t reconcile the information. “So where does that leave me? Was she just incredibly selfish or am I fooling myself, thinking she gave a damn about me?”

He reached for her.

She shook her head. “No. Don’t. I need to say this.”

He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “Then I’ll stand here and listen.”

She drew in a breath. “When I was a junior in high school, we moved again. I told her this was the last time. That I wanted to graduate from a school I’d attended for at least a year. I made her promise.” She struggled against the memory but it was everywhere, surrounding her with how things had been.

“Did she keep it?”

“No. She left and I stayed. I had a job and the rent on our mobile home was cheap. She sent money every now and then. I got by and I graduated with my class. I had friends. I was able to send out college applications and know I would still be at the same address when they sent the answers. But she wasn’t.”

Charity felt the burn of tears and willed them away. She didn’t cry. Giving in accomplished nothing.

“She didn’t come to my graduation. It was too far and she didn’t have the money. I told myself I was fine, but I wasn’t. I wanted someone there, someone to see me take this momentous step. She didn’t bother and she didn’t tell me there was someone who would care, who would take the time to be with me. She kept that from me, and there’s no good reason. How am I supposed to tell her how pissed I am? She’s dead.”

He reached for her again and this time she went into his arms. He might not have the answers, but he was warm and strong and for a few minutes she could pretend that everything was going to be all right.

He stroked her hair, then ran his hand down her back. She rested her head on his shoulder and breathed in the scent of him.

“My mom left, too,” he said. “I was ten.”

Charity remembered Marsha telling her the story. She pulled back enough to look into his eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be whining.”

“You’re not whining.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I’m saying I understand what it’s like to be abandoned by the person who’s supposed to love you best in the world. By the time I was old enough to go look for her, it was too late. She’d died. I was angry. Beyond angry. I wanted her punished. I wanted her to pay, but mostly I wanted her to tell me why. Why did other moms give up everything for their children and she couldn’t even stay? Was it me? Or was it her?”

She saw the pain in his eyes. The questions that would never be answered.

“Eventually you make peace with it,” he told her. “You make peace and you move on.”

Maybe, she thought. But there was a scar from the wound and sometimes that scar ached.

She raised herself on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his. Her kiss was gentle, sharing. He responded in kind. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the heat that flooded her body. There was something to be said for a dependable chemical reaction.

His hands dropped to her waist, then her hips. He urged her closer and she went willingly, her body nestling against his. She parted her lips and he deepened the kiss. She met him willingly, enjoying the stroking of his tongue against hers, giving herself over to the blood rushing through her body.

Wanting began low in her belly and spiraled out in all directions. Her breasts began to ache. Between her legs, she felt that telltale combination of tension and dampness. Anticipation sharpened.

He cupped her rear, causing her to arch against him. She felt his arousal against her belly and the memory of how he’d felt inside her, of what he’d done to her body, made her moan. He moved his hands up and under her thin short-sleeved sweater. His fingers were warm against her bare skin, moving deliberately across her ribs, then cupping her breasts through her bra.

Everything about his touch was perfect, she thought as he caressed the curves and brushed his thumbs against her tight, sensitive nipples. She closed her lips around his tongue and sucked.

Now it was his turn to moan. But instead of starting to remove clothing, he pulled back, then took her hand and led her into the bedroom.

The king-sized bed dominated the space. The layout was similar to hers, with an armoire, a desk and a view of lush gardens. None of which interested her, she thought as he reached for the hem of her sweater and tugged it over her head.

Her bra followed, leaving her bare to the waist. He stood in front of her, gazing at her breasts, anticipation darkening his eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, before bending down and taking her left nipple in his mouth.

He licked the tight tip several times before sucking in deeply. The tugging drew waves of pleasure from deep inside of her. She felt a rush of heat and dampness between her legs. A heightening of her arousal. His day-old beard teased her skin. He bit down gently, taking pleasure to the level of exquisite, then sucked again.

She had to hang on to him to keep from sinking onto the thick carpet. When he moved to her other breast and repeated the process, she found it difficult to breathe.

More, she thought, wanting them both naked and on the bed. It was time for more.

She tugged at his T-shirt, giving him a not-so-subtle hint. He straightened and pulled it off in one easy, fluid move. She stepped out of her sandals. As he unfastened her jeans, she ran her hands across his smooth, bare chest. Defined muscles felt like stone. He was sculpted male beauty, she thought, pressing her mouth to the center of his chest before moving to his flat nipples.

She licked until he caught her face in his hands, tilted her upwards and kissed her on the mouth. Then they were each pulling off the last of their clothes. When they were naked, he grabbed her around the waist and they tumbled onto the bed.

She landed on her back, him on his side, facing her. He lowered himself so he could kiss her breasts again. This time as he drew her nipples in deeply, he put a hand on her belly.

Her legs stirred restlessly. Her attention was equally divided between what he was doing with his mouth and the slow, steady journey his fingers took down, down, down.

At last he reached between her legs. She parted her thighs for him, then sucked in a breath as he slipped between the folds of skin and found her swollen and damp center.

The man had a fabulous sense of direction, she thought hazily as he began to explore that tight bundle of nerves. First he circled, teasingly close, but not actually touching. Around and around, moving slow enough to make her impatient. Then he lightly brushed across it with a single finger. She shuddered. When he did it again, she knew he was going to bring her to the kind of release that shook the world.

But instead of settling into a steady rhythm, he shifted so that he was between her legs. He pressed his mouth against her in an intimate kiss. The feel of his lips, the sweep of his tongue, the light abrasion of his stubble all conspired against any self-control she might have left.

Electricity shot through her at that first second of contact. Delicious need burned away shyness or pride. She opened her legs wider and arched her hips in a very clear invitation. One he accepted.

He ran his tongue over every inch of her. He dipped into her swollen and ready center, then returned to that single point of exquisite pleasure. He rubbed it with the flat of his tongue, teased it with the point. Then he closed his lips around the engorged flesh and sucked.

Charity felt the tension build. It grew until she had no control, no choice but to lose herself in the trembling release that shuddered through her. She grabbed onto the blankets, tossed her head from side to side and clenched her teeth to keep from screaming.

Josh continued to caress her gently, drawing out every drop of bliss until she was weak and breathless.

When the last wave had ebbed, he shifted so that he was on his knees. He opened the nightstand, grabbed a condom and quickly put it on. Then he was in her, filling her, taking her deeply, thoroughly. She hung on for the second half of the ride.

Later, when they were both breathing normally, lying facing each other, his hazel-green eyes bright with contentment, she traced the outline of his perfect mouth.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she murmured.

“Yeah, I did.”

She smiled. “You know what I mean. Thank you for…” What? Distracting her? Making her realize that she hadn’t really known what good sex was supposed to be before now?

“Charity,” he said, staring into her eyes. “I want you. I’m a guy. It doesn’t get more complicated than that.”

The words were oddly comforting. “Do you get every woman you want?”

“No.” He shrugged. “It’s different with you. Better.”

“I aim to please.”

“You do good work.”

She laughed. “So do you. All that practice has really paid off.”

“Knowing what to do is the easy part. Finding the right person to do it with is a whole lot harder.”

Sweet words that made her chest ache a little.

Not him, she reminded herself. He fell in the category of “too much.” Too good looking, too charming, too famous. She wanted regular. She’d seen what happened when a woman fell for the wrong kind of guy. It had happened to her mother enough times.

Thinking about Sandra destroyed her good mood, so she focused on something else.

“I haven’t seen you around in the past few days. What’s been going on?”

He rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. She snuggled close, loving the feel of his naked body next to hers.

“I rode with the high school team yesterday.”

She half sat up. “Really? How did it go?”

He lightly circled her nipple, then drew her against him again. “Badly. I couldn’t do it. I pretended there was something wrong with my bike.” He swore. “Talk about a loser.”

He wasn’t that, but telling him wouldn’t make a difference, she thought sadly. He needed to believe in himself. But was that possible?

“Have you thought about talking to someone?” she asked. “A professional?”

“A shrink? No. Sitting around and talking about my feelings isn’t going to help.”

“You don’t actually know that.”

“Yeah, I do. I tried it after the accident and it didn’t help.”

She sighed. “You tried it what? One time, then gave up? You’re such a guy.”

“That makes the sex less awkward.” He looked at her. “Want to stay? We could order in, watch dirty movies on pay-per-view, take a bath. I have a spa tub.”

Make love, she thought, losing herself in his mesmerizing gaze. “You know how to tempt a girl.”

He rolled toward her, stopping when he was above her. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Is that a yes?” he asked, the corners of his mouth turning up.

“That’s a yes and a please and a let’s do it again.”

SUNDAY CHARITY DRAGGED herself from Josh’s bed. She was having lunch with Pia, and Josh had to go work out. As she showered and dressed, she found it difficult to keep from smiling all the time. Every part of her body seemed satisfied and the little aches were a delicious reminder of how they’d spent their night.

By noon she was walking toward Pia’s place. She had the top floor in an older building. The large singlefamily home had been divided into three apartments. Charity climbed the stairs and knocked on her friend’s door.

“Hi,” Pia said with a grin. “Are you winded by the climb?”

“I’m on the third floor in the hotel and I take the stairs there.”

“Built-in exercise,” Pia said, closing the door behind her. “I’m so not the gym type. I have a great deck. I thought we’d eat there.”

“Sounds good.”

Pia’s place was bright and airy, with lots of windows and large rooms. The sloping ceiling added character and everywhere Charity looked was a splash of color. The sofa was lipstick red microfiber with patterned pillows. There was a purple and yellow throw on the back of an old wooden rocking chair and travel stickers pasted on an old steamer trunk that served as an end table.

“This is great,” Charity said, following Pia into a bright green kitchen. “I love the colors.”

“I’m not a beige kind of girl. I’ve done most of my decorating at garage sales and flea markets. I have a thing about finding a bargain.” She pointed at the flowered plates sitting on a rack on a shelf. “Eight plates for two dollars. It was a proud moment for me.”

“Impressive.”

“Thank you.”

Pia picked up a tray of sandwiches and salads, then motioned to another tray with iced tea in a pitcher and two glasses. Charity collected it and they went out onto the large balcony.

The day was sunny and warm. They could see most of the town, a bit of the lake and the mountains beyond.

“A view of the kingdom,” Charity teased.

“Exactly. I look at the little people and wonder about their lives.”

They settled into lunch and talked about what was going on in Fool’s Gold.

“Does Alice have any information on the thefts?” Charity asked. “I haven’t heard if the person stealing has been caught.”

“Last time we talked, she was still searching for the culprit. I hope whoever it is stops before Alice finds them. She can be scary. Of course the loss of a few packages of Easy Mac is a whole lot less interesting than the missing money from the state.” She curled her feet under herself and sipped her tea. “Three quarters of a million dollars. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“It’s a life changer,” Charity said. “I just don’t understand how that kind of money goes missing.”

“Me, either, but accounting isn’t my thing. I guess that’s why the city is bringing in an auditor. Poor Robert. I wouldn’t want the responsibility or anyone thinking it was me.”

“It’s not Robert. Does anyone think it is?”

“Not really. That would require a level of creativity he doesn’t have.” Pia covered her mouth. “Sorry. That sounded mean. I just meant…”

“He’s not that guy,” Charity said with a grin.

“Exactly.” Pia reached for a half a sandwich. “So what did you do yesterday?”

Charity blinked, not sure which of her many activities she should choose from. Remembering her afternoon and night with Josh made her think she might blush, so she blurted the only other thing she could think of.

“I spent some time with Marsha. I just found out she’s my grandmother.”

Pia’s eyes widened with shock. “What? You’re Sandra’s daughter?”

“Yes.” Charity briefly explained everything she’d learned about in this last seventy-two hours.

“That’s amazing,” Pia said, still looking stunned. “You are so lucky. I would love to have Marsha for my grandmother. She’s always taking care of everybody. If someone needs help, she’s right there. Sandra was an idiot to run off.” She winced. “Okay, I’m putting my foot in my mouth more than usual today. Sorry.”

Charity assumed Pia thought she would be insulted about the comment aimed at her mother. “I agree. I don’t know why she was always running. Some of it was the men in her life. She chased after gorgeous, hunky guys, all of whom were lousy bets. When they moved on, she followed. I swore I would never be like that.”

“So you’re not interested in Josh.”

The statement was unexpected. Charity didn’t mean to react, but she had just taken a sip of her tea and nearly choked on it. As she coughed and sputtered, Pia looked on knowingly.

“Uh-huh. Just as I thought. You’re a little too cool around him. Something’s up. Tell Auntie Pia everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Do I look like I believe that? Because I don’t.”

Now it was Charity’s turn to feel uncomfortable. “I know better,” she began. “Men like Josh are a disaster.”

“But you’ve fallen for him.”

Charity covered her face with her hands. “Sort of. But he’s a really nice guy.”

“Don’t tell him you said that.”

“I won’t. He’d be wounded.”

“You and Josh.” Pia looked speculative. “Okay, I have to know. Is he the god everyone claims?”

Charity sighed. “The rumors are not wrong.”

“That’s what I need in my life. Hunky hot sex. Like that’s going to happen.” She glanced at Charity. “Josh really is a sweetie and I totally adore him, but you need to be careful. He’s famous and everything that goes with that. His ex is an actress. Very beautiful. He’s been linked with some amazing women.”

“You mean he’s not for us lesser mortals?”

“I’m saying don’t get your heart broken.”

“Speaking from the voice of experience?” Charity asked.

“I’ve had my share of cracks, but so far nothing fatal.”

“I appreciate the concern, but you don’t have to worry. I’m not in love with him.”

“Good. Because loving Josh would be a hard road for anyone.”

“ARE YOU TRYING TO get me drunk?” Charity asked when the server left the table.

Josh leaned back in his chair. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please. You’re the one who warned me about the margaritas here.” She angled toward him. “Alcohol is not required to have your way with me.”

“I know. It’s one of your best qualities.”

They were having dinner at Margaritaville. The place wasn’t too busy on a Sunday night, so they’d gotten a booth in the back. Somewhere they wouldn’t be disturbed.

The soft light added a golden glow to Charity’s brown hair. She wore it loose and a little curly—a sexy look he enjoyed. Her mouth curved into a smile and there was a look of complete satisfaction in her eyes. He liked knowing he’d been the one to do the satisfying.

“How was your afternoon?” she asked. “You rode through town?”

“Uh-huh. I got a lot of support from the locals.”

“They know about the race. They want you to do well.”

At this point he just wanted to get through it without humiliating himself further. Why couldn’t he have something normal wrong with him? A bad back. A disease of some kind. Something that could be fixed with a pill or rest and an ice pack.

“How was Pia?” he asked.

“Good. We had fun.” She shook her head. “She knows we’re, um, that we’ve…” She cleared her throat. “You know.”

“That we’re seeing each other?” He wasn’t sure what was so hard about saying that.

She looked slightly relieved. “That. I wasn’t sure about…So that’s what we’re doing?”

“Isn’t it?”

She shifted on the seat. “I didn’t know. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever gone out with. You’re famous.”

“Oh, please.”

“Your ex-wife is a big star.”

“She’s a b-list star at best.”

“But beautiful and famous. I’m a regular person.”

He reached across the table and took her hand. “The whole famous thing is highly overrated, and you are definitely beautiful.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You don’t believe me?” he asked.

“No, but thanks for the compliment.”

“I’m not that guy you see on the poster. Not anymore. Even if I got it all back, I wouldn’t want to be him.”

She didn’t look as if she believed him. “There had to be things about that life you enjoyed.”

“Sure, but been there, done that.” He squeezed her fingers. “I like you, Charity. I want to keep seeing you.”

“I want that, too.”

“Then we have a plan.” He pretended worry. “It includes sex, right?”

She smiled. “If you’re lucky.”

“I’m always lucky. Didn’t they tell you?”