Sweet Nothings (12 page)

Please
, he silently pleaded,
please don’t let me have missed them
.

The thought that she might have been prancing around town in the orange boots, and if he was guessing correctly, an orange miniskirt, had him more than ready to go.

She stepped back from him, and moved to rest her rear on the railing to his side. “I’ve designated Thursdays as the day I take out the van. At least until tourist season starts. I’ll take it out more then and on Saturdays when the local soccer and baseball games kick off.”

“So that’s when you’ll wear your boots?”

“And the matching outfits, yes.”

He gulped. “Do you need any help on those days?” The thought of leaving her alone for all those men to ogle irritated him.

She laughed, a clear sound ringing out in the dark night that made him feel good inside. “Thanks, but I have Destinee for that. I suspect she’ll be far more help than you would be. You’d probably try to eat all the cupcakes.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Cupcakes. That’s what I was thinking about.”

The woman was going to be the death of him before he got this project over with. But then, he could choose to stay out of town on Thursdays and avoid temptation. He almost laughed.
Not likely
.

She shivered at his side and he realized she was freezing in the cold night air.

Without thinking, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Do you want to come in? I have the heat going.”

“No thanks,” she murmured as she glanced toward the door, looking as lost as she had when she’d arrived. It was almost as if something inside the house was what made her sad.

“What’s the matter, Jo?” He squeezed her shoulders. “Tell me. Let me help.”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

Since she was pressed against his side, he could feel the tension coming back. Something had happened, and he wanted to fix it. “Do I need to go beat someone up for you?”

“No!” But the question had the desired effect and her body softened again, easing into him along with her light laughter. Her head tilted in line with his body and pressed into the curve of his arm.

They sat there like that for several moments and he gave up on her sharing with him. He wouldn’t push it. Cat leaped up onto the railing and Joanie reached out and scratched him behind the ears. Cat seemed to be more interested in Joanie than in Nick, but who could blame him? Nick would be too if their situations were reversed.

“I think my grandmother might be dying,” her soft voice spoke as if to the cat, but Nick knew it was for him.

A pain settled in his chest. “Oh sweetness, I’m so sorry.”

Cat purred and pushed up closer to Joanie as if sensing her hurt.

“We’re not close anyway. And she’s been sick for a long time.”

“Still, she’s your family.” He wanted to put both arms around her, but was afraid doing so would send her running. “Is that where you’ve been tonight?”

She nodded, still focused on the cat.

“Joanie?” He wanted her to look at him. She’d mentioned before that her relationship with her grandmother wasn’t the best, but clearly seeing her sick had upset her.

“What?”

“Are you okay? What can I do to help?”

“Nothing. I’m fine. It’s probably still months away, anyway.” She leaned down to the cat, breaking contact with Nick’s arm, and rubbed a cheek against the side of Cat’s head. “Maybe years.”

She stepped away from the railing and away from him, then glanced around as if trying to figure out the best escape route, managing not to make eye contact while doing so.

Seeing the Dumpster at the end of the porch, she turned and headed in the other direction, passing in front of him, face averted. “I’ll see you again Friday night,” she mumbled. “I’ll be back to start on the bedrooms.”

Before she could get past him, he snagged her by the arm and stopped her. “Look at me.”

She didn’t, instead tilting her chin up in the air, her face pointed away from him as if letting him know she was tough and didn’t need his comfort. He lightly squeezed her arm.

“Look at me, sweetness. I want to help.”

With terrible slowness, he watched her chest move up and down with a deep gulp of air. She finally turned to him. Tears had streaked down both cheeks and more filled her eyes, waiting for their turn to run free.

“Come here,” he said, a second before he pulled her to him.

Once snuggled up against him, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight while she turned loose and cried. When her own arms snaked around his waist, he almost cried with her. It was not easy watching this woman hurt.

“I’m sorry I’m getting your shirt wet,” she muttered into his chest.

Instead of worrying about that, he squeezed her closer, slipping a hand around the back of her head to hold her in place. “That’s what friends are for, isn’t it? To be here when you need us?”

She nodded against him, and he could tell the tears were already beginning to slow. It hadn’t lasted long, but it had been pretty powerful stuff. “I should be crying to Lee Ann. She’s always been the one I go to when…”

Her words trailed off, but he knew what she was about to say. “When I need someone.” And tonight she’d come to him.

The enormity of that action filled him. Joanie may not want them to be anything to each other, but he wasn’t sure either of them could stop whatever was happening.

When the tears dried, she remained tucked in tight, and he sensed her embarrassment now overshadowing her pain. Both at letting him see her cry, and also at knowing she must look a mess and that he would witness the damage when she stepped away.

Instead of waiting for her to work up the courage to raise her head, he did it for her. Holding her steady between his hands, he lifted her face to his. Mercifully, it was a clear night, and the moon glowed down on her, highlighting her tear-stained face. She was beautiful.

He used his thumbs to swipe over both cheeks, then leaned in and pressed kisses along the paths of her tears. She closed her eyes as he did, and he fought the urge to kiss her properly.

“Would you like me to drive you home?” he whispered.

She merely shook her head, her lashes resting against her pinkened cheeks, her lips turned down at the corners.

“Then let me take you inside and tuck you into my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch. I don’t want you to have to go home alone.”

Spiky eyelashes fluttered, then lifted, leaving dark eyes staring up at him. “You really are a good guy, Nick. I like that.”

He typically hated being called a good guy. It had landed him with too many of the wrong women over the years. And this was the second time she’d done it. “I’m here for you whenever you need me, sweetness.”

“I know.” Her lips curved a little and she nodded. “I appreciate it.”

He wondered if she’d appreciate it if she knew how much he enjoyed her being pressed up against him.

“So…” He cleared his throat and forced himself to lower his hands. “Bed?” He had no idea how he would get any sleep with her in the same house, but was determined to stand by his words.

“No.” Her voice was small, yet there was strength behind it. She may falter, but she stood back up. “I don’t need to stay at the Barn tonight.”

He stared at her. “The Barn?”

A sad smile touched her mouth. “That’s what GiGi calls this house. The Barn. She and Pepaw named it.”

Seemed Joanie inherited her oddities honestly.

“I’m fine, Nick,” she added, giving him another of those sad smiles that lasted only a second. “Really. I just needed to let that out, and I guess I didn’t want to go home and do it alone.”

Yeah. He knew about needs. He had some of his own. And sometimes they outweighed good judgment.

Ignoring his better sense, he lowered his head before he could change his mind, and pressed his closed mouth to hers.

Joanie’s eyes opened wide the instant Nick touched his lips to hers, then warmth moved through her and she let her lashes drift closed. His lips were firm, yet had just the perfect amount of softness, and were so toasty warm that she wanted to curl up with them so she’d never be cold again.

She let out a little noise and edged forward, wanting more.

He complied.

He angled his head and when she parted her lips, he slid his fingers into her hair and quietly slipped inside her mouth. Normally she wanted a harder kiss, something faster and more to the point, but she had to admit, he was making quite a point just the way he was.

Kind of a…
wow
kind of point.

His hands gripped her face and tilted her up the slightest bit more, taking the kiss even deeper, and she became a puddle below the waist. Parts of her came alive that had almost forgotten how to work.

Then it hit her… Nick was kissing her!

He wasn’t supposed to kiss her. Business, not pleasure.

She wouldn’t fall for him.

But oh God, it was a nice kiss.

A groaning sound came from him, reengaging her and making her grip his waist and pull her body against his. When her breasts brushed
over the planes of his hard chest, she moaned and pushed even closer. She wanted to touch him, to feel what he wore under those flannel shirts.

And she wanted him to return the favor.

She forgot all about how kissing him was not in the plan, and got lost in his expert movements.

A girl could spend hours letting this man make love to her mouth.

Too soon, he pulled back, his breathing as ragged as hers, and peered down into her face. It was so dark with his shoulders and head blocking out the moon that she could barely make out his features, but she knew the look that was in his eyes. It was the same one in hers.

He wanted more.

Then she remembered his cat, and the rocking chairs, and the fact that he was the type that could sweep her off her feet.

And leave her broken.

Damn it.

“Let me take you out, Joanie,” he said, his voice as uneven as she suspected hers would be if she tried to talk. “I want to show you a good time, buy you really excellent whiskey, and make you smile. And I want to kiss you again. A lot. Can we do that? Will you let me?”

Oh, crap. She blinked and took a quick step back, lowering her gaze as she did. She could not go out with him. Had she learned nothing in the past thirty-two years? Bigbee women could not do relationships.

And he was definitely looking for a relationship.

“Ummm…” she said. She peeked back up at him, cringing slightly, knowing he wasn’t going to be happy with her answer. “No.”

Nick stood dumbfounded, his arms dropping to his sides.

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Nick. I just can’t. I don’t date.”

What in the world had she been thinking kissing him like that? Without another word, she hurried off the porch and to her car, refusing to look back, and certainly not answering when he called her name. She slid behind the wheel and started her car.

She’d known what it would be like if she let that man kiss her. It would be freaking awesome.

Exactly as it had been.

Of course it would be, because he had that incredible mouth.

And now she had to live with knowing what it tasted like. And felt like. And what it made her feel like.

A tingle slid down her spine, and she thumped the base of her palm against her steering wheel as she spun gravel pulling out of the driveway. She had to forget what that man could do with his mouth.

Because if he could make her feel like this without using his hands?

Crap!

Chapter Seven

N
ick stepped from the empty storefront into the cold sunshine of the day and clipped his cell phone to his belt. It was Thursday. He’d come to town to check on potential office space to house his company. His trip had nothing to do with it being cupcake van day.

He’d hired a handful of guys throughout the week to help with the work at the house… the
Barn
, he corrected himself, shaking his head at the name, though accepting that something about it fit. Not that the house looked like a barn, but the uniqueness of it fit with what he’d already figured out about Joanie.