Driven to Temptation (3 page)

Chapter Four

They were only ninety minutes out of Milestone and already had to stop. But what was he supposed to do when Delaney insisted she had to pee? Better here than along the deserted stretch of roadway they’d
hit before long.

Aidan waited in his truck right off the main street that ran through Spear Lake Junction, a Western-themed town and one of Central Oregon’s premiere tourist traps. He scrolled through his text messages. Nothing from Harold.

Maybe he should check on him. God knew the guy had checked on him enough times when Aidan was a teen. Still did. But it was probably better to leave him alone to rest for now.

He blew out a breath but kept his gaze on the public restroom until Delaney exited, waving as she approached. With a grin, she opened the passenger side door and hiked her skirt up, exposing creamy skin.

He tore his gaze away. She wasn’t teasing him on purpose, was she?

Just like she hadn’t meant to show so much thigh when she’d first gotten into his truck back at Milestone. A thigh that invited and teased. But was it worth exploring? Yeah…

He shook his head, pulled his thoughts back from a road it shouldn’t be traveling in the first place.

“That’s better,” she said, slamming the door shut. She flashed him a grateful smile, one that made her face light up as it reached her green eyes. “Thanks for stopping.”

Aidan stared. Her eyes were captivating. A shade of green that reminded him of lush Pacific Northwest forests. The kind he liked getting lost in.

She tilted her head to one side. “Shouldn’t we be going?”

He blinked as he reached for the key in the ignition. With a turn, the engine roared to life. “Right.”

He checked his mirror for oncoming traffic, then gently pressed the gas pedal on his truck, felt the restrained power of the engine rumble in much the same way he’d learned to harness his own energy. Focused that energy in order to make something of his life instead of being another sorry statistic.

Traffic crawled to a stop before slowly starting up again. This town was just as bad as Milestone.

“Aidan, stop,” she said at the same time he saw the four-legged animal running back and forth across both lanes of northbound traffic, cars dodging around it. “It’s a dog.”

It was a dog, all right.

A big dog. Which meant a lot of short fur covered that body. And fur housed a truckload of dander. Aidan didn’t get along with dog dander.

The dog yelped at the blaring car horn sounding from a truck that screeched to a stop.

“We have to help it.” Already she was unbuckling her seat belt.

They did? He glanced her direction, then stared at the dashboard clock. “It’s a dog.”

Yeah, okay, so it was a stupid thing to say, an obvious thing to say. How could she know he and dogs didn’t get along?

“No one else is stopping.” She gestured toward oncoming traffic with one hand and reached over the center console to grab his arm. “We can’t abandon a helpless creature like that. He’ll get run over.”

The comment, innocently made, ripped open the top to the memories he’d carefully contained. Memories of foster home after foster home, each family loving and caring and yet…no one wanted to keep Aidan. Not longer than the short time they were required to host him.

A surge of emotion lodged deep in his chest. He swallowed down the sudden pain and clamped his jaw shut.

“Look, we don’t have to haul it in your truck, okay?” she said, clearly mistaking his hesitation as she looked around. “This is a small town. I’m sure somebody knows who he belongs to.” She turned her expressive eyes his direction. “Aidan? Please?”

There was a strange desperation in her plea, a desperation he couldn’t ignore. And really, he was pretty safe as long as Fido over there didn’t touch him, because no way was Aidan going to lay a hand on it.

He stopped, turned the hazard lights on, and reached for the door handle. “Let’s make this quick.”

He always carried antihistamines with him, so worst-case scenario, he’d end up with a rash.

At least, he
hoped
that was the worst-case scenario.

…

“Don’t cross until I stop traffic,” Aidan directed. “Got that?”

“Got it.” She nodded, her attention focused solely on the Great Dane, on its well-groomed fur and the collar with the lone tag hanging on it. The way its tail curled between its legs, clear evidence of its fear.

“Hey.”

She turned and saw the concern etched on Aidan’s face. “What?”

“Promise me.”

She nodded. “I promise.”

He gave the signal, and her heart pounded as she crossed the first lane. Sweat seeped through her thin blouse. What if the dog wouldn’t come to her?

No. It’d come to her. It
had
to come to her.

She bent at the waist and slowly moved forward, her gaze focused on the scared creature stuck in the middle of a busy roadway. “Here, doggy,” she said softly, holding the back of her hand out to it. “Come here, sweetheart. I’m your friend. I can help you get home.”

It hesitated, assessing whether or not she could be trusted, no doubt.

The dog shied away from her, took two steps back, then leaped forward as a car crept around it. It barked, half mournful, half in warning.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” she coaxed. “Let’s get you out of the road so some big, bad, mean truck driver or insane woman on her way to a shoe sale doesn’t mow you over.”

The dog eyed her, its body positioned so it could quickly turn around, turn away from her. At the same time, it focused on something behind where Delaney now crouched to make herself as small as possible.

She chanced a look back. Aidan stood a few feet away, one hand held out to stop oncoming traffic. His sunglasses hid his eyes, but she felt his gaze on her, saw his encouraging smile and the nod he sent her direction.

And before she realized what was happening, she felt a rush of air as the dog made a quick gallop past Delaney, toward Aidan, like it’d found its long-lost friend. Or an enemy it needed to take down.

Crap.

Aidan held his arms out in front of him, waved his hands, and his mouth opened as if to say something.

Before she could move a muscle, the Great Dane jumped toward him, front paws on Aidan’s shirt. His
pristine
blue-and-white-striped shirt. Well, once-pristine shirt, anyway.

Delaney raced toward them, her heart beating erratically.
Oh God.
Aidan getting mauled to death wouldn’t get her far in the promotion department. She had to pull the dog off. Maybe someone could call 911. Was there a first aid kit in his truck? Why hadn’t she thought to ask?

By the time she reached the pair, two things registered. First, her boss was sprawled flat on his back, the Great Dane’s paws on his chest. Second, there was no blood. Instead, there were loud, slurping sounds as the four-legged animal lavished Aidan with its tongue while its tail wagged like it was waving in a central Oregon windstorm.

Thank God. Delaney breathed out a sigh of relief, lowered her hand from where she’d held it against her chest.

“Aidan? Aidan? You okay? Are you hurt?” If he was, she could probably kiss her promotion bye-bye.

“Oh, shit,” he groaned. “I’m allergic to dogs.”

“You’re allergic to dogs?”

Aidan nodded. At least, she was pretty sure he was nodding behind the hands he held up to protect his face.

Great. Just great. Her résumé shouldn’t be too hard to update.

Delaney braced her legs shoulder width apart, grabbed the dog’s collar, and yanked. Nothing happened. Holy hell. The beast was determined to stay plastered to him.

She kicked off her kitten heels and planted her feet again, ignoring the sun-warmed pavement biting into the soles of her feet. She yanked on the collar with every ounce of strength she had in her. “C’mon, you. I promise Aidan doesn’t taste as good as you think.”

Her face heated as her words sank in. Fortunately, he didn’t catch the unintended double entendre.

“Gee, thanks,” he said drily, his head turned to one side.

“What? You want me to let go?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so,” she huffed, tugging harder. “Hey, you. Sit.”

The dog sat.

And Delaney landed flat on her butt.

“Ouch!” Her eyes widened, and she stared at the Great Dane’s black-spotted back, tail thumping wildly. Its attention was still squarely focused on Aidan as he scrambled to his feet.

She frowned. The fact that the furry beast might’ve had dog etiquette lessons never occurred to her.

He took a step back, brushing dirt and dog fur off his clothes. “You okay?” he asked, pulling his sunglasses off.

“I think so.” She pushed herself to a sitting position, then examined her hands and forearms. “Doesn’t feel like I broke anything.”

His gaze swept over her, then snapped to capture hers. “You’d better get up.” He glanced at her legs before turning away.

They were spread apart, her professional-length skirt riding high up her thighs. “Oh God. Sorry.” She pulled her legs together and scrambled to her feet.

Yep, the curse of girlie-girl clothes had struck again. Her face burned hotter. How much of an eyeful did he get?

She slipped into her shoes, traffic behind them suddenly registering when someone honked on a horn.

“We’d better get off the street.” Aidan turned his attention to the Great Dane. He hesitated as if trying to decide what to do, then shrugged. “Come.”

The dog stood up, then walked to his side, tail wagging. Delaney suspected all he’d have to do was move and the dog would follow him. Or stare mournfully.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were allergic?” Honestly, why were guys so damned cavalier? “Do you need an inhaler or something? Do you have an EpiPen I need to get for you?”

“It won’t kill me.” He guided her by the arm off the roadway. “And I’ll take an antihistamine before we head out.”

Once on the sidewalk, she bent down to check the dog’s tag. “Fifi.” She raised an eyebrow. Fifi? Really? And here she’d thought the Great Dane would have a more regal name. “There’s a phone number.”

“Give me a second, then we can call it.” He reached for his belt buckle, then began pulling, undoing it.

Last time she checked, getting undressed in the middle of a sidewalk during broad daylight wasn’t normal. Actually, it wasn’t normal at night, either.

But what, exactly, were the signs and symptoms of dog allergies? Maybe he was delirious or something. Did delirium happen that quickly after exposure? “Ummm…Aidan? What are you doing?”

“We need a leash.”

A leash. Oh, right.

“Want me to help?” She stepped toward him. “I could do that.” Heaven only knew what the exposure would do to the guy.

He stopped, stared at her, and she really wished he hadn’t put shades back on. “You want to help remove my belt?”

“Yes.” Wait. What? “I mean, no.” She stepped back. “Ummm… I mean… I just don’t want you to break out into hives or anything.”

He threw her a lopsided grin. “I’ve already been licked,” he said, whipping the belt through the loops of his jeans. “It’s too late now.” He quickly pulled one end of the belt over the dog’s collar. “Let’s figure out who’s missing Fifi.”

For her part, Fifi seemed perfectly happy to continue dancing in place next to Aidan. She barked happily, her tail wagging so hard it made a slapping sound against Aidan’s leg.

“Too bad you’re allergic to dogs. She really likes you.”

As soon as he secured his belt, he took the end of the makeshift leash. “Yeah, well, Elizabeth’s dog was crazy about me, too. And I couldn’t stand him. But she insisted, in spite of my allergies.”

She searched her jacket pocket for her phone. “Elizabeth?”

He sucked in a deep breath, like he regretted saying anything yet couldn’t take the words back. “My ex-wife.”

Chapter Five

Aidan slammed the driver’s door closed and locked it.

Delaney waited on the sidewalk. “I didn’t know you were married,” she said as soon as he took the makeshift leash from her.

Well, damn. Maybe Aidan could blame his motor mouth on dog exposure or something. “Yep.” Not that it had lasted very long. And not that he wanted to talk about it, either. He held her gaze, braced himself for the inevitable barrage of questions.

Instead Delaney shrugged, then bent down and checked Fifi’s dog tag. She read the number off of it and punched it into her phone.

He expected a grilling from her. Most women were nosy. Nibbling on any piece of information about him. But in the short time they’d spent together, he’d already discovered she definitely wasn’t like most women.

She looked around at the storefronts lining the Western-styled main street, then frowned a moment later. “Answering machine.”

Aidan stifled a groan and glanced at his watch. He’d built in some buffer time to allow for minor delays. But trying to find a dog’s owner? That could take a while. Who the hell could plan for something like this?

She left her name and number, turning to him when she finished. “Now what? We can’t take her with us.”

No, they couldn’t.

“She’s obviously trained, but you’re such a stickler for a clean cab.” She paced three steps away before turning toward him again.

All that energy had to have some place to go. Was she just as energetic in bed?

“Plus there’s the allergy thing.” She waved one hand his direction.

Allergies. Right. At the rate he responded to her, an allergic reaction was the last thing he needed to worry about. Especially after the way she’d landed on the street with her legs spread open like an invitation.

Bad thought.

Very. Bad. Thought.

He looked around them, trying to get his bearings. He spotted a sign across a side street and pointed. “Let’s try the dog park a few blocks down. Maybe someone will recognize her.” He hesitated. “Look, if we don’t find her owner in ten minutes, we aren’t going to have a choice but to take her to the pound, okay?”

Her eyes widened. “Abandon her? Just like that? How could we do that to her? She obviously trusts you.”

He turned away, walked toward the direction of the dog park, Fifi in the lead. He forced his steps to slow as he hung on to the makeshift leash. She practically dragged him along.

Time to turn away from the cascading past, away from the tide of emotion that pulled him toward it, threatening to drown him. He wouldn’t abandon Fifi on purpose.

Not that his parents had left him a ward of the state on purpose, either.

If there was anything he’d learned thanks to the foster care system, it’s that no matter how well-intentioned foster families were, no matter how kind and loving, there was no substitute for being adopted. For being wanted.

Just like there was no way to quash the pain of being shuffled from one home to another.

But he wasn’t about to share any of that now. It was too close, too personal. And he knew better than to leave himself vulnerable.

He narrowed his eyes, glanced at his companion. He was lousy in the small-talk department, but that was the only way to dig himself out of the hole he now found himself in.

A question. He should ask her a question. The kind of question that he considered personal—intimate, even—but still socially acceptable. The kind of question that would make someone think he was trying to connect with them. Not that he was trying to connect with Delaney in an intimate way. He just had to keep her talking.

She tapped the touch screen on her phone again, held it up to her ear, and pulled it away a moment later. “Still nothing.”

He stopped as they approached the end of the block and waited for a break in traffic, and Fifi made a circle around him, forced him to follow her movements or risk being tangled in his own belt. “Stop,” he commanded.

Nothing. Apparently, Fifi had a limited vocabulary.

He tugged on his belt, hoping the dog would follow as they crossed the street. Almost as soon as they were safely back on the sidewalk, he felt it. That barely-there scratchy feeling on his hands and on his face. Definitely on his face.

“Damn,” he muttered, mentally bracing himself for the onslaught that he knew would start soon.

“What’s the matter?” She glanced his direction.

He couldn’t help it. He scratched the side of his neck at the exact spot where Fifi had first lavished him with a healthy dose of dog slobber. “Probably just a psychosomatic response,” he answered.

“Psychosomatic response? Are you kidding me?” She snorted, a wholly
unfeminine
sound that intrigued him more than anything. “No need to play big, bad, can-take-anything hero here, Aidan. You’re breaking out, aren’t you?

“I’ll be fine.” He’d tough it out rather than take the prescription antihistamines he had on him just for such an occasion. “Just a minor reaction to my new friend, Fifi.”

She raised an eyebrow even as she shook her head dismissively. “Yeah. Sure.” Then she frowned. “This isn’t going to affect your breathing, is it? Like, shut your lungs down or anything?”

“No.” At least, he didn’t think so. “Just hives.”

A dump truck snared his attention as it rumbled past, its dual tires kicking up a rock and sending it skipping in front of them. Even though temperatures were warmer than expected, it wouldn’t last long. Some contractors were still scrambling to finish up this year’s projects. Which meant his team would stay busy, too.

He scratched his neck. Too bad heat made his hives worse.

Beside him, Delaney stared at her phone intently as they continued their trek toward the direction of the dog park. If he remembered correctly, Harold mentioned she’d moved to Central Oregon from Portland when she was hired on. The same way Aidan had after his marriage ended with Elizabeth quietly leaving.

“How long have you lived in Milestone?” he asked as they ambled along the sidewalk.

“Just since working for Ross and Associates.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t stay in Portland.”

“Why?” She glanced at her cell phone one last time before placing it in her jacket pocket.

“There’s more to do there.” That had been part of the charm for Elizabeth, anyway.

“Not if you like the outdoors.”

Good point. He tried to ignore the itch crawling up his forearm as he gave her a sideways glance. “You like the outdoors?”

“Why do you sound surprised?”

“You don’t look like the outdoorsy type.”

She looked like a head-buried-in-a-set-of-construction-plans type rather than someone who enjoyed long hikes. Or camping, for that matter. Qualities he’d want in a serious relationship with a woman.

Assuming he ever learned to loosen up and allow himself to become attached again.

“Really? You always make judgments about someone you’ve just met?”

Well. Elizabeth had been right when she’d told him he was lousy at the social gig. “No offense intended.” He tugged on Fifi’s leash. Elizabeth didn’t like the outdoors. To her credit, she never denied his need to tromp through the woods, trudging behind him in silent resignation instead. Later, toward the end, she’d claimed it was her attempt to bond with him. Too bad it hadn’t worked out.

And now he was behaving like the Ice King she’d accused him of being.

They were in for a long ride to Seattle.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like a bitch or anything.” She shook her head. “I’m just tired of people assuming things about me, you know? Being judgy and stuff before really getting to know me.”

He rubbed a particularly tingly part of his neck. That was one way to look at it. “I’m surprised you didn’t choose to work in Portland. That’s all.”

“I just don’t like Portland.”

“Why not?”

“It’s too big.” She paused, placed her hand over her eyes to shade them from the sun as she looked down the street. “And my family lives there.” She pointed. “That way.”

Fifi lengthened her strides, and it was all Aidan could do to hold her back.

“Well, most of them. Two of my brothers work for an engineering firm overseas. The other three work for engineering companies in Portland.”

“Your brothers are engineers?”

“We
all
are.” She sighed, a soft, breathy sound he doubted he’d ever forget. “You have any idea what it’s like living in the same city with a set of parents who think you should settle down and get married? Give up your career and let some guy take care of you?
Pfft.
As. If.”

Not the marrying type, either. Interesting.

She glanced at his hands. “You okay?”

Oh, hell. He was scratching his wrists and hadn’t even realized it.

“Fine.” He frowned. The hives were spreading, jumping from one hand to the other like a game of tag. “I have it under control.”

She huffed out a breath. “If you say so.”

Damn. Maybe he should at least take his shirt off, then wash his hands…somewhere. Maybe there was a water fountain at the dog park. But with his luck, Fifi would jump all over him again. Better to try to find the dog’s owner first.

The dog park was at the end of the next block, a huge expanse of grass with sagebrush and a smattering of trees. As they neared it, Fifi danced on all four paws, her tail wagging almost violently. Looked like they were on the right track.

Aidan pulled back, and his heels dug into the dirt at the gate.

“Fifi, sit,” Delaney said in a firm voice.

The Great Dane dutifully sat, her tail still twitching from side to side. Apparently, the woman had a wide range of skills, too.

“Good girl.” She reached down to stroke the dog’s head.

Fifi stared at Aidan adoringly instead.

Delaney rolled her eyes. “And people say you’re unapproachable. Fifi didn’t get
that
memo.” There was a hint of laughter in her tone. “You always have that effect on females?”

Most of them, yeah.

He shrugged. “I tend to keep things simple.”

She tilted her head to one side, and for a brief moment he wondered how sensitive her neck might be, how she’d respond if he bent down and—

“Simple? Now I’m intrigued.”

He automatically stepped back. “Simple. No more than two dates.”

“That’s hardly enough time to know someone.”

That was the point. Anything more and he ran the risk of saying the wrong thing and screwing it up. Sometimes, he sensed there was something they needed him to say, something he couldn’t quite figure out. Which made it worse when he realized he disappointed them.

God
damn
his neck itched.

At this point, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be good enough for any woman. He’d thought he’d done right by Elizabeth. He worked hard, provided for her. Hell, he’d even gotten her a dog when she’d asked, allergies be damned.

That hadn’t mattered. None of it mattered. Elizabeth couldn’t live the rest of her life without a deep emotional connection, and Aidan hadn’t been able to give that to her. Not with the long days. Even longer nights. The travel. It’d been too much for her. And her tears had been too much for him. Ending the relationship was the best strategy. It was tough, but in the end, it needed to happen.

She’d been right about him. He didn’t have what it took to get—and keep—a romantic relationship going. With anyone. Which secretly scared the crap out of him. His inability to connect relegated him to a lifetime of being alone. But better to be alone than to lead another woman down a path that would end miserably—for both of them.