Mixing Temptation (5 page)

He glanced at Caroline. “Cold?”

“I'm fine.” She stopped and pulled her hand free from his grip. “It's warm still. Especially for September.”

“Yeah. Dry too.”

“Why are we out here, Josh?” she demanded, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Heck, she looked badass even in the pale green sundress with her lips red from their kiss.

“I want you. So damn much. And you sure as hell haven't missed that fact.”

“No.” Her gaze drifted to his fly as if recalling the feel of his erection pressed against her. “You've dropped off a lot of pies.”

He nodded. “I like baking for you. And I swear I will lie to keep you safe if I need to. But I want more.”

“More,” she repeated.

He nodded, knowing his next question would probably earn him a big fat no. But she'd kissed him with a hunger that matched his own. She'd turned to him for help when the chief of police questioned her. “So what do you say? How about we give dating a shot?”

C
AROLINE F
OUGHT THE
urge to move away from the man who'd broken through her barriers. Tilting her head back, she stared up at the stars. He'd found her under the night sky over a year ago. And she'd known better than to put her faith in him then.

But she'd let him draw her away from the grip of isolation. She'd let down her guard. She allowed the feeling that someone—­the military, the police, or her rapist—­was hunting her to slip away when she was with him. Josh had taken the time to get to know her, slow and steady as if he had all the time in the world.

That time had just run out.

“And if I say no?”

“Then the answer is no, Caroline.”

She studied the constellations, picking out the few she'd learned as a child. These same stars had followed her around the world, unchanged by the events that had uprooted her life.

But everything on earth moved forward. When she'd first run away, she'd felt as if she had more in common with the stars. Her future felt stagnant, reduced to hiding, running, and more hiding.

By lying to the police chief, she'd tried to drag Josh into hiding with her. Part of her admired him for being brave enough to say no to perpetuating an illusion. He could have tried to win her over under the cover of deception. But he wouldn't do that.

“You asked me out before,” he said. “And yeah, you have every reason, every right to change your mind.”

She lowered her chin and looked him straight in the eyes. She waited for his too-­charming smile. But his lips formed a thin line.

“We could start with dinner,” he continued. “Someplace you're comfortable. In town. Or someplace where nobody knows us. I'll drive you up to Portland on your next night off if you want.”

She found herself nodding. Dinner. Someplace safe. They would be an ordinary ­couple.

“And no sex,” he added. “I promise.”

The words felt like a direct hit and her defenses rose up. “Without the possibility of sex,” she said, “we're just two friends sharing a meal.”

“Caroline—­”

“Sex stays on the table.” She unfolded her arms and allowed them to drift down to her sides. She fought the urge to clasp them behind her back and assume a parade rest position. She was moving on, moving forward toward a future that glowed bright despite the past. “I'm not saying we'll head back to your place or mine tonight—­”

“You live here.” He nodded to the farmhouse separated from the barn by a gravel parking area. “With Noah's dad.”

“I'm not saying it will happen on the first date,” she continued, summoning the courage that had thrust her into his arms for that first kiss in the back room at Big Buck's and again tonight. “And we don't need to choose between my place or yours. I grew up with an overprotective mom. Once upon a time, I knew how to make the most of the limited space in the backseat of a car. And your pickup has a lot more room in the front.”

He cocked his head. “I don't know. With the stick and all, it might be tricky.”

“It might.” She stepped away before she moved into his arms. She'd ridden a roller coaster of emotions tonight. At the top, she'd faced possible discovery by the police. Fear had swept her down and somehow landed her back in ‘once upon a time.'

“I guess we'll find out.” She sidestepped and walked past Josh, heading for the tent. “Not on the first date,” she added, her voice soft and low. “But maybe by the third. Or perhaps the tenth . . .”

“Caroline.” He reached out and ran his fingertips over her bare arm. But he stopped short of grabbing ahold of her and pulling her to him. “If we wait until the tenth date, I promise I'll have mapped out a way to work around the stick shift.”

 

Chapter 4

W
HAT DO
I
wear to a date when I hope to end the night making out in the front seat of a truck?

Caroline scanned her meager wardrobe. She'd filled Noah's guest room closet with a line of Big Buck's T-­shirts, three pairs of hand-­me-­down jeans from Josie, two pairs of faded black cargo pants, and the green sundress she'd worn to the wedding. She'd left every other piece of clothing that she owned behind in California when she'd run away. Her older sister's attic held boxes of cute tops and fun, flirty dresses from her life before she'd joined the Marines. But she'd enlisted at nineteen and she doubted those nine-­year-­old clothes would be in style even if she had access to them.

She closed the closet door and headed to the landline in the kitchen. A cell phone still felt like a risk. It was too easy for the authorities to track if they were still looking for her. And a cell was an unnecessary expense considering she couldn't afford new clothes. She picked up the receiver and dialed the bar. It was ten in the morning on a Monday, only two days after his wedding, but she knew Noah would be at Big Buck's.

The happy ­couple had put their honeymoon on hold until their daughter was a little older. At eleven months old, little Isabelle was still nursing. Plus, Josie wanted to pay down her debt from the heartbreaking past that had sent her running home to Forever—­and landed her in Noah's arms—­before they planned a trip.

“Big Buck's Bar. This is—­”

“Noah,” Caroline cut in. “I need to borrow Josie for a few hours. Is she around?”

“She's in the back. Everything all right?”

Caroline heard footsteps as her friend and boss moved through the bar, heading to the room that held the dishwasher. “I need help putting together an outfit for tonight.”

“Where are you going?” he demanded.

“Out.” The man who'd appointed himself her honorary big brother did not need details.

“Where?”

She stared out the window at the barn. One of Noah's rescue cats stalked across the gravel as if preparing to pounce. Caroline had a feeling there would be a dead bird or mouse waiting on the porch when she returned home from her date.

“Caroline?” Noah said.

He'll find out from Josie or Lily.
Someone would clue him in to the fact that she was officially dating Josh Summers. He might even hear it from his new father-­in-­law. And then, Noah would come to her with a pile of questions.

“Josh is taking me out to dinner.”

And cue the crickets . . .

The footsteps on the other end of the line stopped. She could hear Noah breathing as he struggled to hold back a
what the hell, Caroline?

“Did he coerce you?” Noah enunciated each word, his tone low and ominous. “I heard about what happened at the party. You had a run-­in with Josie's dad—­”

“I want to go out with him,” she blurted. “I'm tired of hiding. I go to the bar. I come back here. Once or twice I've stopped by Lily's house. I'm ready to get out there . . . but I don't have anything to wear. I need shoes. Something soft and feminine. I can't wear combat boots. What kind of message does that send?”

“I'll kick your ass if you get fresh with me?” Noah murmured.

“I could, but I don't think attacking my date is the best way to get him on his back.”

“Caroline—­”

“I was good at this once,” she said firmly. “You didn't know me then. Before we deployed together. But back then I went out on dates. I flirted.”

I wasn't afraid.

She heard the familiar whoosh through the phone as Noah pushed open the swinging door that led to the bar's back room.

“Josie,” he called. “You're needed at my dad's place. Caroline is having a shoe crisis.”

C
AROLINE PACED THE
kitchen and fought the urge to unlock the gun safe. She'd talked Noah's dad into giving her the combination months ago. Sometimes she needed the added comfort of a loaded weapon against her leg. Logic suggested that her rapist would have hunted her down by now if he still held the end of his illustrious military career against her. But logic and fear didn't always play nice together.

More than a year had passed since she last saw her former CO in the doorway to her sister's home. He'd suffered a dishonorable discharge for adultery. With Noah's testimony, the military court had accepted the fact that she had a sexual relationship with him. But she couldn't prove her CO had forced her. And oh the irony, the man who'd promised to lead her through a war zone then forcibly removed her clothes from her body, he dared to blame
her
for losing his job.

She refused to let that man hurt her again. But as the possibility of an attack slipped further and further away, her need for a gun strapped to her thigh or tucked into the waistband of her pants should have disappeared too. But the feelings still haunted her even if the man had given up.

Alone . . . Afraid . . . Skirting the edge of depression as if it were a deep pool she might stumble into . . .

But not tonight.

She circled the table, her fingers brushing the tops of the four chairs as she walked. Her fitted grey jeans and flowing, sleeveless pink blouse didn't exactly scream, ‘accessorize with a handgun.' Josie had lent her the clothes along with a pair of black leather ankle boots. And if she planned to kick some ass in these shoes, she better be prepared to balance on her toes—­or use the three-­inch spikes attached to the back of the boots.

She heard the crunch of gravel before Josh's pickup pulled into the parking area. The cat abandoned her prey and ran for the barn. And Caroline debated following the scared animal. But she wouldn't get far in these stilts masquerading as footwear . . .

Her date stepped down from his silver pickup. He'd given his ride a bath. Even the tires sparkled in the early evening light, no traces of mud from his latest harvest site. She suspected a chainsaw and a pile of safety gear hid in the bed of his truck, but he'd covered his tools for the night.

And the owner of the shiny silver pickup had cleaned up too. He'd traded his lumberjack uniform—­button-­down flannel and cargo pants—­for a pair of clean blue jeans and a green short-­sleeve polo. The bright shirt drew her attention to his red curls. He'd stopped short of running styling gel through his hair, but he'd clearly tried to tame the curls. And then run his fingers through them a time or ten, probably on the drive over here.

They'd both gone to a lot of effort for this date. What if they got to dinner and found they had nothing to talk about? She didn't exactly have a lot to say about her current career. Most of it he'd heard before. And he'd already explained the finer points of felling trees over pie.

“Evening, Caroline,” he called from the front door.

He stopped in the entryway separating the kitchen from the hall. His shoulder rested against the wooden door frame. His gaze met hers then shifted lower to her pink shirt, down her jean-­clad legs to the stupid high-­heeled boots. She fought the urge to shift her weight from one foot to the other under his scrutiny.

“You look beautiful.” He spoke in a low rumble as his gaze met hers again.

“I borrowed the clothes from Josie,” she said.

“They look good on you.”

“Thank you,” she mumbled, shoving her hands in the back pockets of her jeans.

His lips curved into a smile. “Ready?”

No.

But if not now, when? She couldn't go back to the person she'd been before the Marines. She had to take a step forward.

Or stay right here paralyzed by fear. . .

She withdrew her hands and plucked her borrowed clutch from the table. Josie had claimed the worn black leather handbag matched her boots. And Caroline had agreed to carry the purse instead of her battered backpack. Then she drew a deep breath.

“I'm ready,” she confirmed.

He pushed off the door frame. “To go forth and conquer? Or for a first date?”

“One and the same, right?” Caroline marched over to him.

Josh laughed as he led the way down the short entry hall and held the front door open for her. “All right then,” he said.

She hit the gravel before him, but he quickly caught up with her. Stupid boots. The heels sunk into the rocky surface and threatened to throw her off balance. But she fought back.

“Nice shoes,” he said when they reached the passenger side door. “But your combat boots might have been a better choice for tonight.”

Her brow knit together. “Where are you taking me?”

Josh dialed up the charm as his lips formed another megawatt grin. The hint of stubble and the twinkle in his green eyes only added to his allure. He pulled the door open and gestured for her to climb in.

“Where—­”

“Tonight I'm taking my dream girl to one of my favorite spots in the Willamette Valley. I've always wanted to take a date to this place. But it never felt right before.”

She stared at him.
Dream girl? It never felt right?
There were so many things wrong with that response. And she still didn't have a clue why she should have worn combat boots.

“You'll see when we get there,” he added. “If you climb into the truck.”

She maneuvered into the passenger seat. By the time she'd fastened her seat belt, he'd claimed his place behind the wheel.

“Dream girl?” she said.

“Front and center in my fantasies for the past year.” He put the truck in gear and headed down the drive to the main road. “Hell, I bet I have a better idea about what you look like naked than you do.”

“You've never seen me naked.”

“But I have a world-­class imagination.”

She kept her gaze focused on the road, noting the turns. She rarely drove, but she'd learned her way around the town. And she'd walked the dirt roads that skirted around downtown Forever plenty of times.

If she glanced at him, he might question the heat rising to her cheeks. He wasn't the only one with an imagination. She'd memorized the way his work jeans hugged his butt. And daydreamed about the feel of his hard chest beneath her hands.

“Good day?” he asked as they barreled down the country road kicking up dust.

“Quiet,” she said. “Until Josie came by with Isabelle and half her closet. What about you?”

“Chad and I headed over to a tract of land Moore Timber's been hired to harvest. We're trying to figure out if we can get trucks in there or if we need the helicopter. The incline is pretty steep, so I'm guessing Chad will get to fly on this one.”

“Do you mind working with a helicopter?” she asked.

“After one hit me on the head and tried to kill me?” He glanced over at her. “My brother wasn't flying that one, so I feel pretty safe out there now. Chad and I have gotten into it once or twice, but not much since he settled down with Lena. He has better things to do in his downtime than take a swing at me.”

No flashbacks? No paranoid feelings it might happen again?

“Plus, I got my short-­term memory back. No permanent damage. And it's not like I remember what happened, so pretty easy to put it behind me. The past is in the past and all that.”

He turned onto a narrow dirt driveway. But she'd been too focused on his words to look for a sign out front. He'd reclaimed his memory. He'd let the past go. If only it was that simple for her. If only she could take back what had been stolen from her.

J
OSH PUSHED ON
the brake and slowed the truck to a stop. Then he put it in park and turned to her. The surprise, dinner—­it could all wait until his date returned to the present. Right now, she was staring out the window as if her thoughts were miles away.

Something he said? He replayed their conversation over.

No permanent damage.

Yeah, her past wasn't locked away. And it had done some serious damage. He hoped like hell it wasn't permanent. The fact that she'd taken a chance on him suggested she might be ready to move forward. Sure, she'd waited a year before she'd asked. And longer before she agreed to a date and time. But she'd gone all in, dressing up for him.

He studied her outfit. The pink shirt's spaghetti straps offered one helluva view of her toned shoulders. He'd never had a thing for women's arms. Tonight, in that shirt, she might turn him into a convert. He wanted to run his hand over her smooth, bare skin. Get up close and personal with her toned biceps.

But first he needed to hit the reset button on their date.

“I know it's not that easy for you,” he added.

“No, it's not.” Her chin dropped to her chest as if she wished to study her hands clasped tight in her lap. “I was fearless when I joined the Marines. Even after my first deployment to Afghanistan, I was shaken, but still strong. I knew it wasn't all sunshine and roses over there. I knew guys who were blown to pieces while on patrol. And I'd endured plenty of snide, sexist comments. But there were a lot of good guys too. So I signed on for another five years. I dreamed about promotions. And I thought I would be better the next time I deployed. With experience, I'd be able to do more. I was twenty-­four. Older and wiser.” She let out a harsh bark of laughter. “I thought I would become better. And instead . . . instead I became less.”

“No,” he said firmly.

“You didn't know me before,” she said firmly. “I was fierce. At nineteen. At twenty-­four.”

“Still are,” he said.

She looked up at him with those sharp eyes. Her mouth formed a thin line. She looked more intimidating than half the crew chiefs he worked with and those guys easily had fifty pounds on her.

“Do you know how many times I've checked over my shoulder today?” she demanded. “I'm scared and I can't run from the feeling. It follows me, stripping away who I was.”