Bad Girls Don't (18 page)

“I don’t have glitter in my eyes,” Skye protested.

“Details, details. And guess who I ran into in the nail salon?”

“I have no idea.”

“Milton’s wife. She said he’s still furious with you about the lottery-ticket thing.”

“No surprise there.”

The surprise came from Toni, who suddenly and without any warning darted straight out into the street.

Skye’s heart stopped. A big red pickup truck was heading right for her little girl!

Before Skye could move, Nathan appeared out of nowhere with stunning speed to whisk Toni out of the way, barely missing getting hit by the vehicle as it sped by.

Skye was shaking as she ran across the street to join them, pulling Toni into her arms. “Baby, are you okay?”

“That was fun.” Toni clapped her hands. “Let’s do it again!”

“Little girls don’t belong in the street without their mommy,” Nathan firmly told Toni.

His authoritative voice instantly made the little girl’s bottom lip jut out in pouting mode. “Mean man again,” she said.

“You almost got hit by that truck.” Nathan’s voice was turning harder by the second. He redirected his attention from Toni to Skye. “Didn’t you teach her not to run out into the street?”

Skye felt guilty enough without his accusing glare. There was so much she wanted to say. Sarcastic comments filled her head, but she couldn’t seem to voice them. Instead, she simply gathered Toni in a tighter embrace and carried her back to the theater.

Only once they were inside did Skye’s knees give out. She sank to the now clean floor of the lobby with Toni on her lap. Skye hugged her daughter fiercely, fighting back the tears while cradling her warm little body against hers.

Toni wriggled. “You’re squishing me, Mommy.”

Skye loosened her hold slightly. “Mommy needs a hug,” she croaked unsteadily.

Toni responded to that, curling her arms around Skye’s neck and cuddling close.

Sue Ellen stood beside them. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t see Toni move. She went so fast. One minute she was with us, the next . . .”

“What happened?” Sister Mary demanded as she joined them.

“Toni ran out into the middle of the street,” Sue Ellen said, “and was almost flattened by a pickup. Nathan saved her life.”

The nun bent down beside Skye. “Are you okay?”

“I’s fine,” Toni answered brightly.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Sister Mary’s voice was gentle. “I was asking about your mommy, though.”

Skye still had her face buried in Toni’s hair to hide her tears.

Angel came racing into the lobby, knelt beside them, and took both Skye and Toni into her arms. “There now,” Angel crooned. “It’ll be okay.”

“Why are you crying, Mommy?” Toni asked.

Skye still couldn’t speak.

So Angel answered for her. “Because she’s glad you weren’t hurt.”

“Mean man yelled at me.” Toni sounded very offended.

“Because you were out in the street,” Angel explained. “You know you’re not supposed to do that. You could have been hurt.”

Or killed. The close call shook Skye to her very core. She kept hearing Nathan’s accusing voice over and over again . . .

 

 

“Read me more, Mommy!” Toni sat perched on her twin bed with the soft unbleached cotton sheets.

Skye was perched beside her, the colorful Indian-cotton skirt she wore pooled around her feet.

Skye had done up the room to Toni’s specifications. Hence the mural of kittens on the wall, the romping felines hand-painted on the lamp shade beside the bed, and the silhouettes of kittens along the side of the dresser.

“I’ve already read
Kitten’s First Full Moon
to you three times.”

Toni bounced on the bed. “Want to hear again!”

Skye was so relieved to have her daughter unharmed and by her side that she did what Toni wanted. But she hugged her first. For about the hundredth time.

Twenty minutes later, Toni finally fell asleep.

As Skye watched the steady rise and fall of her little girl’s chest, a ticker-tape parade of panicked thoughts kept racing through her mind. What made her think she could do this mother gig? Skye wasn’t empathetic like Angel, who was natural mother material. Angel, who had insisted on staying with Skye instead of going home with Tyler.

When Skye walked into the kitchen a few minutes later, Angel was waiting for her. “Did I ever tell you about the time you almost gave me a heart attack?” she asked, pouring Skye a mug of hibiscus tea and handing it to her.

Skye shook her head. Sinking onto a chair, she blindly watched the wisps of steam rising from her mug as if they might hold the secrets of the world.

“You were about Toni’s age at the time,” Angel said, “and you were fascinated with matches. Even then, you liked playing with fire—literally. I considered taking you to the local fire station for a kids’ safety class they had. But I figured, even at that early age, you’d rebel against authority figures. So I had Sash talk to you. I’m not sure what he said to you, but you didn’t play with matches anymore.”

Skye wished she could remember what Sash had said to her, but she couldn’t. And somehow that just incited her panic even more. She’d been ten when he died, and she still missed him. But the memory of the sound of his voice had faded over the years. How had that happened?
When
had it happened? She’d vowed to never forget him, and yet here she was, unable to call up his voice.

“I can’t breathe. I need to get some air.”

“Go ahead,” Angel encouraged her. “I’ve got my crocheting here.” She pointed to her tote bag filled with yarn and half-finished projects.

Skye grabbed the keys to the Tivoli on her way out of the apartment. When she entered the darkened theater, the emergency exit signs in the lobby were the only illumination.

A knock on the entry door behind her startled her. It was Nathan. “I was walking by and saw you come in here. Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.”

As he entered the lobby, she realized he was limping slightly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Old college football injury. I must have twisted it when . . . Anyway, I was just checking to make sure you were okay.”

“I never thanked you for saving my daughter’s life.”

Her words clearly startled him.

“If you hadn’t grabbed her . . .” Skye swallowed. “Anyway, thanks.”

He shrugged awkwardly. “That’s my job.”

“Yeah, well . . .” Her voice trailed off.

He squinted into the darkness. “It looks like you got a lot done today.”

“Here, I’ll turn on some lights. The switches are this way.” She led him into the office marked “Private.”

He stumbled into her in the semidarkness.

That’s all it took. Pivoting, she kissed him. He met her more than halfway. When she wrapped her legs around his hips, he maneuvered her to the desktop, where she shoved blueprints aside and pulled him down to her.

He removed her tank top and shoved up her skirt, sliding his hands along her bare thighs.

She tugged off his T-shirt and reached for the zipper on his Levi’s.

“Wait.” He placed his hand over hers. “I don’t want you doing this out of gratitude for my saving your daughter.”

“I’ve wanted to have sex with you ever since our first kiss.”

“Is that all this is?” He raised his head to look down at her. “Sex?”

“Let’s find out.” Her hands returned to his zipper. “It’s definitely not gratitude.”

“No?” He slid his fingers beneath the elastic on her underwear. “You’re not grateful?” He brushed his thumb through the crisp curls guarding the entrance to the damp cave of her sex.

“Yes, but I’m also hot—”

He slid his index finger inside her. “Yes, you are. I can tell. Real hot.”

“Aren’t you real hot too?” She tried to reach for him.

“Burning up.” He spread her legs wider and moved her skirt up until it was bunched around her waist.

“Prove it,” she challenged him.

He undid his zipper and shoved his jeans and tighty-whities down. Hard and erect, his penis sprang forth as nature intended—wicked awesome.

“Condom?” she gasped.

“Where’s your tote bag with the box of Trojan?”

“Upstairs.”

“Good thing I’ve got a few in my pocket.”

“You came prepared, huh?”

“Ever since I kissed you for the first time.”

Words were replaced with actions as she helped him slide the condom on.

Seconds later, he entered her in a glorious rush. “I should go slow.”

“Slow is good.” She stopped him when he moved as if to withdraw, fiercely tugging him closer until he was embedded deep,
deep
within her. “Fast is even better.”

His strong hands pinned her to the desk so she wouldn’t fall off as he drove into her like a man possessed. She certainly responded like a woman possessed.

“No, don’t stop,” she moaned when he suddenly paused.

She saw pain on his face and remembered his sore knee. “Chair,” she gasped. “Right behind you.”

He didn’t need any further guidance. Keeping her joined to him, he sank onto the chair.

“Ahhhh. Sweet.” Her new position opened new channels of pleasure and satisfaction to her.

“You just like being on top,” he growled.

“Mmmm,” she agreed. “I like.”

“How about this?” He gripped her bottom and thrust upward. “You like?” He thumbed her clitoris with seductive skill, working her arousal like a master artisan. “You like?”

She could only pant and nod blindly. “I . . . I . . .”

He swallowed her orgasmic scream as her vagina clenched around him, until, with one final, powerful plunge, he came apart in her arms.

Chapter Ten

Guilt.
Nathan had it written all over his face. Not satisfaction. Not tenderness. Just guilt.

Skye wanted to know why, yet was strangely reluctant to ask. Which wasn’t like her at all. Normally, she said whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted.

But this time was different. Nathan was different.

He was nothing like the guys in her past. Most had been moody nonconformists intent on doing their own thing. None had been a Mr. Responsible like Nathan.

Unlike the brooding types she’d gone for before, he had a quiet intensity, as if he refused to give himself permission to focus on himself and his inner pain.

Skye considered resting her forehead on his shoulder, closing her eyes, and ignoring reality. But she could feel the tension building in his body. And it wasn’t sexual.

She slid off his lap awkwardly, noting that he was unable to meet her eyes as he disposed of the condom and zipped up his jeans.

She wanted to pound on his bare chest and yell, “
Talk to me!
” But an unexpected wash of painful humiliation rushed over her. She felt cheap. Was he deliberately trying to make her feel that way?

Why? Why do that after he’d just made mind-blowing love to her?

Love? Or sex? Big difference.

“Did you love your wife?” The words just tumbled out of her mouth, as they so often did.

Nathan’s expression closed up tighter than the funeral home after hours. “What kind of question is that?”

“What kind of answer is that?”

“Of course I loved my wife. She was
everything
to me.”

His fierce words sliced into Skye like the paring knife that had slipped in her hand and resulted in her needing ten stitches a few years ago. She still had a scar on her palm. She rubbed her thumb over it now.

“What was she like?” Skye’s unsteady voice sounded strange even to her own ears.

Nathan didn’t notice. “She was golden. Blonde hair, light brown eyes that glowed when she laughed or smiled. And she did that a lot. She was sweet and . . .” His words dried up as he swallowed and looked away, clearly in the grip of a strong emotion.

When his gaze returned to Skye she could read the message there.
She was nothing like you
.

Skye had never been golden. Never been sweet. Not even as a kid. She’d always been a hell-raiser. A rebel.

She figured now she knew where his guilt came from. “You didn’t betray her. Not by having sex with me, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“How would you know what I’m thinking?”

His tone of voice aggravated her. “Not because you’d tell me anything, that’s for sure.” She took a deep breath. “All I’m trying to say is that you don’t have to feel guilty. It’s not as if you love me, or vice versa. We just shared a natural biological need, that’s all.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I don’t want you to feel bad.”

“Why should you care, if all we did was share a ‘biological need’? You do that with a lot of guys?”

“Define
a lot
,” she shot back angrily.

“Never mind.”

“Don’t ask the question if you don’t want to hear the answer.”

“I don’t want to hear the answer.”

This time, the knife slashed into Skye’s heart without her even seeing the blow coming. Nathan didn’t want to hear because he already knew what he thought.

Skye was usually the first to admit that she cultivated her bad-girl image, which was much worse than reality. She’d never cared what other people thought about her. The people she loved knew her and knew what was true about her.

The people she loved . . .

Oh no. No way she was adding Studly Do-Right to that group. Skye might be bad, but she wasn’t stupid. She remembered thinking the very same thing the first time Nathan kissed her. Yet here she was, her body still tingling from having him embedded deep within her.

His hand suddenly cupped her cheek. “I’m sorry.” His voice was gruff.

“For what?”

“For everything.”

Which meant he was sorry he’d had sex with her. She probably wasn’t as good at it as his saintly, beloved wife. The man clearly wasn’t over the woman he’d adored and married.