Chasing Perfect (12 page)

“Pia's a smart girl. This would be good for the town. Put us on the map.”

“I thought we already were.”

“It would bring a lot of attention to Fool's Gold. Positive attention. Something other than a chapter in a thesis where the reality of who we are is reduced to statistics.”

He leaned back in his chair. “You want the race.”

Marsha studied him. “I want you to be comfortable with the decision we make. It's a great opportunity, but there will be others.”

When he'd been a kid and his mother had dumped him in town and taken off, he'd been more alone and scared than any ten-year-old should be. Denise Hendrix
had taken him in. Ethan had become his best friend. He'd been one of seven kids in a loud, happy, loving family. But there had been times when he'd never felt as if he truly fit in.

Whenever life at the Hendrix house had overwhelmed him, Marsha seemed to know. She would drop by during the late afternoon and take him out for dinner. In the quiet of a local restaurant, he felt comfortable talking about whatever was bothering him. She listened more than offered advice and most of the time, that was enough.

They'd never talked about what had happened during that last race. When he'd returned to Fool's Gold, she'd told him that she was feeling old and frail and had insisted he spend the first week in her guest-room. He hadn't been fooled. There was nothing frail about Marsha. She hadn't wanted him to be alone and he'd been willing to pretend it was about her.

They'd never talked about Frank's death or his fear, but he suspected she'd figured it all out. A theory she confirmed when she said, “You have a choice. Face the demons or keep running from them.”

“It's not that easy.”

“Why not? Ethan was hurt and you moved on.”

“I felt guilty.” But she was right. He'd moved on. But that had been different. Ethan's accident had been one of those things. Frank's death seemed more like his fault. “There's no way to face them without everyone knowing.”

“What do you think will happen if everyone finds out the truth about you?”

A thousand things he didn't want to consider.

“You should trust us more,” she said, rising. “Trust those of us who love you. You're more than your fame, Josh. You always have been.”

Maybe, but was he enough without it?

“Running hasn't worked so far,” she said as she walked to the door. “Maybe it's time for a new plan.”

 

R
OBERT INVITED
C
HARITY
over to his place for dinner. He promised a grilled steak and the best salads the corner deli had to offer. Charity hoped that if they could hang out together, talking without any pressure or her being able to see Josh across the restaurant, that she would become more interested in Robert.

His house was within walking distance of the hotel, hardly a surprise, in a quiet residential neighborhood on a golf course. The homes were mostly two stories tall with big windows and well-groomed front yards. Robert's was no exception, although it looked a little newer and better kept than the others on the block.

“Hi,” she said when Robert opened the front door. “I brought wine.”

“Something I really like in a woman,” he said, taking her hand and drawing her in, then lightly kissing her cheek. “You look great.”

“Thanks.”

She'd worn a short denim skirt with high-heeled
sandals and a pale peach silky wrap shirt. Another new purchase designed to show the world, and herself, that she wasn't always conservative. Buying the clothes had started an interesting ripple effect. When she'd started paying attention to what she wore, she'd found herself thinking about things like highlights and pedicures. She had an appointment for the former next week and would find out if the salon had a nail person while she was there.

She'd visited a large discount store and bought a bunch of new makeup to try, including a honey-jasmine body scrub she'd been using in the shower. It was fun being a girl, she thought, wondering how she could have allowed herself to forget.

“Shall I give you the tour?” he asked.

“I would like that.”

The main floor had high ceilings. The living room flowed into a formal dining room. Both had beautiful furniture that looked expensive. The big TV and high-tech sound system could have been at home in a movie theater. There was a wet bar tucked into an alcove by the hallway, then the eat-in kitchen was in back. The patio beyond held a lush potted garden and a man-sized grill with lots of knobs and storage.

“I can't help it,” Robert said. “Fire good.”

“Those caveman roots are hard to cut.” She handed over the bottle of wine.

He opened it and poured them each a glass. Once they'd toasted and sipped, they went out onto the patio.

“Impressive garden,” she said. “I don't know much about growing plants.”

“My mom liked to dig in the dirt,” he told her. “I started helping out when I was a kid. I can make nearly anything grow, which is both a blessing and a curse.” He pointed to a dozen or so small pots suspended on the fence. Each overflowed with some kind of a plant. “Herbs.”

“You grow your own?”

“My ex-fiancée and I did that together. Planted the seeds. Then, when things didn't work out, I couldn't bring myself to take them down. They keep growing. I don't cook much, so I have no use for them. Every few weeks I bring in bags of them to the office. Once you get your place, you can take them home and use them if you'd like.”

“The assumption being I'll know what they are and what to do with them?”

“They have books for that.”

“Apparently I'll need to find a couple.”

Was it just her, or was keeping an herb garden born in a previous relationship a little odd? Especially when Robert didn't use them himself?

Maybe not, she told herself. He was obviously a great gardener. That was nice. She shouldn't be critical. This was a guy she wanted to get to know better.

“Did your mom have a big garden?” she asked.

“About a quarter acre. My parents were older when I was born. They'd given up on having a kid. Living
in a small town, they didn't have access to a fertility specialist. I'm not sure why they never adopted.”

He motioned for her to take a seat in one of the wicker chairs on the patio, then he sat next to her.

“They were excited to have me, but a little old-fashioned. They didn't want me to go away to college, so I went locally. Then after I graduated and got my first job, I lived at home for a while. By then Dad was gone and Mom was having trouble getting around.”

“That was nice of you.”

He shrugged. “They were my parents. I had to take care of them. When Mom passed, I decided to leave town.”

“You didn't have anyone special to keep you there?”

“No. I didn't date a lot. Mom preferred me to spend my time with her.”

Creepy music played softly in the back of her mind. Charity told herself that Robert was simply that rare breed of good guy, but she wasn't sure she completely believed it. She'd had enough disasters in her past to look for warning signs. Was there one here or was she simply comparing Robert to Josh?

Figuring out the truth was made all the more challenging by her physical reaction to Josh every time she was around him. No man could compete with that, either, she though sadly. Were the Roberts of the world destined to be outshone by those who were special?

“I like life here,” he said. “No complications. At least there weren't until we found there was money missing.”

That's right. The missing seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. “I assume there's going to be an investigation,” she said.

“It's already started. The city council is bringing in someone to audit the books.” He grimaced. “It's a lot of money to be accounted for.”

“Do you have any ideas about what happened?”

“Not a clue. Normally I know exactly when money is coming in from the state. But this time…” He sipped his wine. “Something's wrong.”

“The police chief mentioned something to me about somebody stealing. We're having quite the crime spree in town.”

“I doubt they're related.” He glanced at her. “Those thefts were small amounts. Stuff you get at a grocery store. This is major. Somebody's going to jail.” He smiled. “Shall I start the steaks?”

“Sure. How can I help?”

“Just watch and pretend to admire my prowess with the grill.”

She laughed. “I can do that.”

 

T
HREE HOURS LATER
C
HARITY
walked back to the hotel, fighting the feeling of finally escaping a long duty dinner. As much as she'd tried to enjoy herself and connect with Robert, they had absolutely no chemistry together and very little in common. The herb garden growing on the fence had turned out to be the highlight of the evening.

Robert was a man of many interests. He had an entire bedroom devoted to Civil War battle reenactments. The models were all to scale, with tiny trees and houses dotting the mossy landscape. He'd shown her the mistakes of the Battle of Bull Run, including both sound effects and falling men. She would guess he had a fair amount of money invested in that hobby.

He also had a large collection of action figures, all in their original boxes. It was like a low-budget version of
The Forty Year Old Virgin,
but without the laugh track. She'd had such hopes for Robert, she thought. Hopes that were not going to be realized. Even without thoughts of Josh tugging at her subconscious, she wouldn't have been able to fall for a guy who seemed way more interested in his soldier models than in the woman standing next to him.

She walked into the hotel and told herself not to feel defeated. She would find the right guy for her…eventually. If she kept putting herself out there, eventually she had to find the one, didn't she? Statistically, at least, if not in real life.

She took the stairs to her floor, then turned toward her room. Her mystery guy was out there. She just had to be patient.

 

J
OSH STEPPED OUT INTO
the hallway and nearly bumped into Charity.

They both came to a stop. He was aware he was standing too close, he could feel her warm breath on
his face. His gaze settled on her mouth, which made him remember what it had been like to kiss her.

“How was your evening?” he asked.

“Fine. Great. I had dinner with Robert.”

Of course she had, Josh thought humorously, but didn't react in any way. “He's a good guy.”

“Yes, he is.”

She spoke defiantly, raising her chin as if daring him to disagree with her. Not that he would. From what he knew about Robert, the man was solid. A little weird, but who was he to be critical of anyone? If Charity had found someone, that was great.

Only it wasn't, and knowing she'd been out with Robert seriously pissed him off.

It wasn't just Robert, he admitted. It was everything else. The race, how he was stuck, unable to do what he loved. He knew he should just get on the damn bike and ride through the fear, but whenever he tried, he broke out in a sweat and thought he was going to pass out. Then he had to step away to throw up. Not a pretty picture. Or one to be proud of.

“My going out with him isn't about you,” she told him.

“Never thought it was.”

“I'm just saying.”

“Right.” Now he was pissed. “Have you kissed Robert? Because you sure as hell kissed me.”

She stiffened, then looked around as if she didn't want anyone to hear.

“That was an accident,” she said, her voice low and tense.

“Right. You fell into my arms and our mouths bumped.”

Irritation flashed in her brown eyes. “You're not all that.”

Truer words had never been spoken, he thought, then he grabbed her upper arms and drew her in those last few inches.

“Want to bet?” he asked, right before his mouth settled on hers.

For a second, there was nothing. Charity didn't react, which left him feeling like a complete jerk. What was he thinking? This wasn't his style. That would imply caring—something he didn't do anymore.

He was about to pull back, to apologize, when she wrapped her arms around his neck, parted her mouth and kissed him as if he was her last, best hope to survive.

Where there had been only irritation and a vague desire to prove something, now there was need and wanting. His blood heated to boiling. He placed his hands on either side of her face as he kissed her deeply, taking and giving, wanting her to lose herself in him.

She gave as good as he offered, her tongue dueling with his. She squirmed to get closer, which took him from hard to aching. He might not have had sex in a really long time, but he hadn't forgotten what all the fuss was about. He wanted Charity and he wanted her now.

C
HARITY HADN'T MEANT
to kiss Josh back. He was obviously annoyed about something and as much as she would like to think it had to do with her spending time with Robert, she wasn't to the point of being willing to fool herself. So resisting his pushy kiss was the smartest reaction.

If only, she thought, straining to get closer, to deepen the kiss. Passion erupted with a fury that left her shaken and weak in every sense of the word. There was something about this man—all it took was the promise of a touch and she lost control. She needed his body with an intensity that frightened her. Now, with his mouth on hers, his hands roaming down her back to her hips, she found herself perilously close to begging. More. She needed more.

She angled her head and met him stroke for stroke. His tongue ignited need, fueling the melting. Her skin seemed ultrasensitive, making her aware of every stroke, each caress as he rubbed her arms, then settled his hands on her waist. Her breasts were heavy and
aching. Between her legs, she was already wet and swollen. Ready. Desperately ready.

In case he hadn't figured that out, she closed the millimeter or two separating them, pressing her body against his. He was strong and broad, but what interested her the most was the thick ridge that settled against her belly. The physical proof he wanted her, too.

He drew back enough to kiss along her jaw before dropping to her neck. Open-mouthed kisses sent shivers of delight racing through her.

Maybe he'd had as many women as people claimed.

Maybe this was a hideous mistake. Either way, she knew she'd never felt such heat before. Such surging hunger. To make sure he got the message, she drew his hands to her breasts.

As his palms cupped her curves and his skilled fingers teased her tight and sensitive nipples, their eyes locked.

She saw an answering fire in his, a desire that eased any concern she had about whether he was just being polite.

As if answering the unspoken question, he grabbed her hand and drew her toward his hotel room door. His key was out, then they were inside before she had time to think. A good thing, she told herself. Thinking was highly overrated.

The second the door closed behind him, he had her up against the wall. He leaned in close and claimed her mouth again. At the same time, he tugged at the knot holding her wrapped shirt, then jerked it open. He half
pulled off the fabric, then reached for her bra. It took mere seconds for him to bare her breasts.

Then his hands were on her skin, touching, teasing, rubbing his fingers against her nipples. Pleasure shot through her. She clamped down on his tongue and sucked. He groaned. When she released him, he nipped her bottom lip before dropping his head to her breasts and drawing deeply on her left nipple.

She felt the pull all the way to her belly. Every inch of her burned. Her muscles tensed. She touched everywhere she could reach—his broad back, his arms, then lower, pressing her palm against his erection. He retaliated by slipping a hand between her thighs. Now it was her turn to groan.

His searching fingers found her very center. He pushed her bikini panties aside and moved his fingers over that part of her—the bundle of nerves already quivering in anticipation. She was so ready, so swollen, that it only took a few quick strokes to steal her breath and make her cling to him. Then he shifted, pressing his fingers inside her and using his thumb to rub her to near ecstasy.

She couldn't catch her breath, she thought, torn between the way his mouth moved on her breasts and the way his fingers moved between her legs. Couldn't think, couldn't do anything but feel the waves of pleasure building inside of her.

She had to hang on to him to stay upright, to concentrate on her balance. He straightened and kissed her
mouth, claiming her with a passion that pushed her closer to the edge.

Then she felt it. The telltale hum that began deep inside her, the warning clenching that her orgasm was nearly there, practically a sure thing. And just as she braced herself for the release she knew was going to be incredible, Josh stopped.

She stared at him, unable to believe what was happening. His hands reached between them and she realized he was unfastening his jeans. Before she could join in and help, he'd freed his thick erection. She quickly pushed her panties to the ground and stepped out of them. He grabbed her around the hips and boosted her up, so she was pressed against the wall, her body settling onto his arousal.

This was impossible, she thought frantically. She'd never done anything like this. She couldn't touch the ground, she was completely dependent on him supporting her. There was no way she could relax enough to—

He moved inside of her. He pushed in hard, thrusting up and back, filling her. His body rubbed against her, teasing her swollen parts even as he pleasured her from the inside. She wrapped her legs around his hips, her arms around his neck and hung on for the ride.

It didn't take long. She'd been so close that in a dozen or so thrusts, she wasn't thinking anymore. She was feeling how he stretched her, savoring every aroused nerve ending quiver, giving herself over to the promise that any second now she would explode.

She came with a cry, her body shuddering, drawing him in deeper. She lost herself in the pleasure. He pushed in faster and deeper, taking everything she offered, drawing out her release until she was too weak to do much more than lean into him. Then he was shuddering, as well, going still, his hot breath fanning her cheek.

They stayed like that far longer than she would have thought possible. When she was sure he had to be ready to collapse from holding her, he slowly slipped back, gently lowering her legs to the floor. When she'd regained her footing, Charity did her best to straighten only to find she was still a little wobbly. Josh grabbed her around the waist.

“You okay?” he asked.

Okay? How could she be okay? She'd just had incredible up-against-the-wall sex with a man she barely knew. Something she
never
did. She'd run a background check on the last guy she'd slept with, and that had been after three months of serious dating. What did she really know about Josh except he was probably going to break her heart?

“The question wasn't supposed to be that hard.”

“Sorry,” she glanced into his eyes, then away. “I was thinking.”

“Dangerous, especially now.”

She tried standing on her own again and managed to stay upright. The shoes weren't helping, so she stepped out of them, which lowered her about three inches. Her right sandal landed on top of her panties.

Physical balance wasn't her only issue, she thought. Her head was spinning. What the hell had just happened? Not that she needed that question answered. Maybe the better issue was why. Why hadn't she stopped to think?

He gently touched her cheek. “Are you okay?” he asked again.

She nodded, figuring he wouldn't want to know the truth. Second thoughts didn't begin to cover her emotional freefall. Thirty-eighth thoughts were more like it. She'd had sex with Josh. Willingly. Wildly. In those moments, in his arms, she'd been someone else.

Or the person she was always meant to be, a little voice in her head whispered.

No way, she told herself. No. That wasn't it.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Her shirt was still tucked into her skirt, but was hanging back down over her butt. Her bra was somewhere on the floor. It only took him a few seconds to look decent again, but she had a tougher road. Rather than risk struggling, she pulled up her shirt and reknotted it, figuring she would deal with the bra and panties later. When she was leaving.

Unless she was supposed to leave now.

She'd never been one for casual sex and honestly, she didn't know the rules.

“I know what you're thinking,” he said, his hazel-green eyes staring deeply into her own.

“I doubt that.” He would have to be beyond psychic to make it through the maze that was her mind.

“I don't do this every day,” he told her. “The rumors, the things people say, they're not true.”

“They're mostly true,” she said. “The first week I was here, I saw that woman waiting in your room. I haven't seen her around town, so I figure you imported her.”

“No. I didn't ask her to be there. Hell, I didn't know her. She got someone in housekeeping to let her in.”

Information she was sure he thought she would find comforting. “Now you're going to tell me you told her to get dressed and sent her on her way.”

“I did.” When she would have looked away, he touched her chin. “I mean it, Charity.”

The funny thing was, she wanted to believe him. Talk about confusing.

He took her hand and drew her into the room. A single lamp in the corner provided a little light. He flipped on a couple more.

“Can I get you something?” he asked. “Wine? Coffee? Dessert?”

She hesitated. Wine sounded good, but she couldn't face the thought of one of the room-service people seeing her in Josh's room, then telling the entire town about it.

He motioned to his left. “I have a private stash.”

She followed the movement.

What he had was a mini-fridge and a small under-the-counter wine refrigerator.

“Something red?”

He grinned. “My favorite color.”

While he picked a wine, she collected her bra and panties, then ducked into the half bath in the corner. By the time she was done straightening and had returned to the living room of his suite, he'd poured them each a glass and turned on the gas fireplace.

“Now you're going for the romance thing?” she asked. “Isn't it a little late?”

“You mean because I already got the girl?” He led her to the sofa and settled next to her.

“You got the girl in a bright and shiny new way. You have a lot of upper body strength.”

“I should accept the compliment with a knowing smile,” he said as he put his arm around her. “Instead I'll tell the truth, which is that it's all about leverage.”

She winced. “Not sure I wanted to know that.”

“Why?”

She stared at the fire, trying not to enjoy the moment too much. “Not the mechanics. The fact that you have so much experience that you can talk about them. It's scary.”

He angled toward her, which meant his warm arm wasn't around her, but he left his hand on her shoulder. “I won't lie to you. I had a great time when I was in my early twenties. I was a well-known athlete and women were everywhere. I took advantage of that.” He gave her a slow, sexy smile. “It was fun.”

And he was telling her this why? Because it wasn't making her feel any better.

“I'm not that guy anymore,” he said. “I grew up a long time ago. But people don't want to believe that. They like the legend and stories that go with that. If I'm still the guy on the poster, then they get glory by association.”

She could almost understand that. “The opposite of the old saying that you can't be a hero in your hometown?”

“Yeah. I can't stop being a hero.” He grimaced. “That sounds arrogant. I'm not trying to be a jerk. I'm just saying that's how it's been with me for years. This town took care of me. They looked out for me and they feel they've earned a piece of me. They like thinking I have a different woman in my room every night because it feeds the story and they like how that story plays.”

She thought about him riding his bike, coming back sweaty and everyone assuming it was because he was out getting lucky.

“It's not like you want to correct the assumption,” she pointed out. “You don't tell them differently.”

“I don't want them to know the truth.”

That he couldn't ride, she thought. He didn't want to spoil the fantasy.

“I got divorced about two years ago,” he told her. “I dated a little after that, but nothing came of it. I moved back here, and since then…” Now it was his turn to glance away. “Let's just say it's been a hell of a dry spell.”

“Thank you. That makes me feel better. I've never been good at being one in a crowd.”

“Me, either.”

“What? There's no crowd.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Oh, please. Do not even pretend I'm sleeping with Robert,” she told him. “We've had all of three dates. Besides, he's not my type.”

“That's not what you were saying earlier.”

“You annoyed me,” she told him. “On purpose. What was I supposed to say?”

“You annoyed me, too.”

“How?”

“You went out with him.”

Oh.

Talk about unexpected. Charity glanced at Josh, then away. She sipped her wine, more for something to do than because she was thirsty. Her confusion faded and she found herself feeling a little gooey inside. Maybe the wild wall sex wasn't the smartest decision she'd ever made, but maybe it hadn't been a total mistake.

“I won't be going out with him again,” she murmured.

“Good.”

She glanced at Josh from under her lashes. “He, ah, has a fondness for the Civil War. One of the bedrooms is devoted to miniature displays of various battles. There are buildings and roads and little tiny trees.”

His mouth twitched. “I'm sure a lot of research goes into making those.”

“I'm sure it does.”

She shifted so she was facing him, tucking her right leg under her. “Don't take this the wrong way, because I'm not really a sports person.” She paused. “So how good were you?”

He laughed. “I was the best. Ranked number one, and for a couple of years that was against Lance Armstrong. You name a race and I've probably won it. I had multimillion-dollar endorsement deals. I still have a couple. I was on the cover of every racing magazine and most sports-related publications. I've been in
People
's sexiest issues a couple of times.”

“I read
People,
” she murmured, knowing she would have looked at his picture as just one of the pretty people who weren't real. “Now I'm getting scared again.”