Josie Day Is Coming Home (29 page)

“The point is, you’re supposed to tell me this
stuff.”

He paced as he said it, crushing the delicate carpet beneath
his work boots. Energy crackled from him—that, and a certain fierceness Josie
didn’t quite understand.

She frowned, her aggravation fading. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why in the world should I tell you this stuff? It’s my
problem, not yours.”

His face darkened. “You should tell me so I can kick
some ass in your defense.”

She rolled her eyes, refusing to see his Neanderthal gesture
as anything less than ridiculously protective. Okay, also a little sweet. But
still ridiculous.

“Settle down, Cro-Magnon Man. I can take care of
myself. I don’t need defending.”

His mouth straightened. “Sometimes you do.”

Puzzled, Josie angled her head. “I’m fine. So there’s a
little pinching going on. So what? That doesn’t mean you have to pick fights
with half the town.”

“Yes. Yes, it does.” From across the bedroom, Luke
sent her a beseeching look. “You don’t get it. I can’t give you Blue Moon.
I can’t buy you presents or fancy jewelry.”

“Don’t worry. My mom’s got a lock on all the jewelry
within a fifty-mile radius, anyway.”

He didn’t even crack a smile.

“Come on,” she protested. “I’m kidding.”

But Luke wasn’t.

“Hell, I can’t even buy you four dozen freaking
cupcakes!” he said, spreading his hands in frustration. “All I can do
is keep everybody out of your damned way until you get what you need for your
dance school. That’s it.”

And it’s not enough,
his tense shoulders said.
Not
nearly enough
.

“Oh, Luke. That’s enough. It really is.”

He stood rigidly apart, not looking at her.

“Nobody’s ever wanted to stick up for me before. That’s
huge! Are you kidding me? I’m the trailer park tomboy who grew up to be a
showgirl. That didn’t exactly make people cheer for me.”

“It should have,” he said gruffly.

“Or love me.”

He glanced her way. “I don’t see why not.”

“So the fact that you go against the crowd and stand on
my side…well, either that means you’re just as much a knee-jerk rebel as I
am, or it means you actually think I’m okay.”

He crossed the room. “I think you’re okay.”

“Then show me,” she said, smoothing her hands over
his broad chest. She glanced up into his face, wanting to erase the lines of
tension there. “Show me we’re okay together.”

Relenting, Luke did. He lowered his head and kissed her, tunneling
his fingers through her hair in an expression of urgency Josie couldn’t deny.
Faced with it, she held on and kissed him back, a whole waterfall of feelings
pouring through her. Gratitude. Pride. Love. She didn’t know what touched her
more—Luke’s desire to help her or the unabashedly fierce way he’d
insisted
on doing it. Either way, she thought it was wonderful.

When their kiss ended, she fixed him with a no-nonsense
look. “I just want to make one thing perfectly clear, though. Technically,
I’m way too strong to need defending.”

“Oh, yeah?” Luke raised a brow. “Well,
technically, I’m way too smart to argue with you about that.”

“That
is
smart of you.”

“But I will say this. You deserve respect, Josie.”
He brought his hands to her cheeks and cradled them tenderly—the way he might
have touched a delicate flower. “Until you get that respect, I won’t stand
by and let people hurt you.”

She glanced down. “I’m okay. It’s not a big deal.”

“I don’t believe that.” He flexed his wrists,
bringing her face to his again with gentle insistence. He searched her eyes.
“And if
you
do, we’ve got some talking to do.”

Something in the way he said it finally got through to her.
Luke believed in her. He honestly did. No matter what she did or didn’t do, he
believed in her. That meant the world to her.

Josie drew in a deep, shuddering breath.

“Why do they do it?” she heard herself ask.
“Why do they all think the worst of me?”

Luke’s gaze softened. To Josie’s absolute dismay, she felt
tears building in her eyes. A lump rose to her throat. Swallowing past it, she
croaked out the question again.

“Why, Luke? Why do they all think the worst of
me?”

For a long moment, he was silent. Then…

“Because they don’t know you,” he said simply.
Surely. “No one who really knew you could ever think the worst of
you.”

“Ha.” She sniffled, wanting desperately to take
back the question. This would teach her to turn over rocks she didn’t really
want to look underneath. “My dad thought the worst of me.”

“I can’t talk about dads. I haven’t had the greatest
experience in that department. But I can talk about
you
. I know I’m
right. Someday, I swear, everybody will see the truth about you.”

“Yikes. What a terrifying idea.”

Her grin must have looked unconvincing, because Luke only
went on gazing at her in that intent, deeply absorbed way he had. This must be,
Josie thought inanely, what a disassembled motorcycle engine would experience
if it could feel Luke examining it. If it could feel him preparing to make it
whole again.

“It won’t be terrifying,” he said. “It’ll be
great.”

“Easy for you to say. You won’t be the one all in
pieces.”

He angled his head, looking confused. And gorgeous. And
macho and strong and white-hot wonderful. She didn’t know how she’d lucked into
having him, but she felt giddy with joy about it, all the same.

“Never mind,” she said. “If I ever get a
chance to be me again”—she gestured toward her hated green granny-dress
getup, so necessary for her dance school dream but so
not
her—“I
promise you’ll be the first person I call.”

“That’s right. You’ll be calling to hear me say ‘I told
you so.’”

“Oh, yeah?” Josie teased. “You’re that sure
of yourself?”

“Nah.” Luke lowered his hands to her waist. He
spread his fingers over her hips, then tugged her against him, pelvis to
pelvis, in one insistent movement. “I’m that sure of
you
.”

His next kiss stole her breath. It wiped her thoughts clean
of everything except the man in her grasp, the feel of their mouths coming
together, the heat and urgency of the moment. Josie crowded against him on
sneakered feet, raising on tiptoes to be closer…closer. She buried her
fingers in his hair and kissed him back, and all the while she only needed one
thing. Only wanted one thing.

More.

“I’m sure of you, too,” she whispered. A smile
burbled up from somewhere inside her. Josie couldn’t fight it back. Didn’t even
want to. “So take me, Luke. Take me, because I’m yours.”

Groaning, he agreed. They fell backward on the four-poster’s
rumpled coverlet, rolling until they fit together like two pieces of a
forgotten puzzle. Hip against hip, belly against belly, chest against chest.
Josie panted and arched against him, and when Luke’s hand found her breast,
when he caressed her through the Day-Glo fabric of her dress, she bit her lip
to keep from screaming aloud with pleasure.

How had she waited so long for this? Waited so long to feel
Luke’s strong hands holding her close, to feel the hard, hot length of him
against her thigh? She didn’t know. She didn’t care. She only wanted more.
More, more, more.

She ran her hands over his back, feeling the muscles flex.
She grabbed his arms for balance, admired the tattoos she’d once thought looked
so dangerous. Luke wasn’t dangerous. Josie knew that now. Not so long as he was
in her arms…in her heart.

“Yes,” she murmured, “just like that.”

She’d never felt so out of control, so eager and impatient
and ready. It took ages for him to kiss her again, eons for her to strip him of
his T-shirt. She didn’t want to waste time with her dress, so she only covered
Luke’s hands with hers and helped him hike it up. The glide of his callused
palms against her skin was everything she’d hoped for. Hot. Sensual. Expert.

“Wait,” she gasped. “I want—”

To touch you, too,
she’d been planning to say, but
something else grabbed her attention. It came from far away, barely heard over
their panting breaths.

It was…it was…. Josie couldn’t quite identify it as
Luke’s hands slid from her knees to her thighs. A riot of good sensations
followed the movement. Oooh….

“Now that we’ve seen the first floor and basement,”
a distant voice intoned, “where the servants spent most of their time,
we’ll continue to the second floor. This part of the Kincaid House was meant
for the family…a more private space.”

Private space
. Breathing hard, Josie stilled with her
hand on Luke’s fly.
The tour
!

She jerked upward. Beside her, Luke froze.

“The tour! I forgot about the tour!” she whispered
harshly.

If they found her here, it would be the talk of the town.
Panicked, Josie jumped from the bed. The mattress dipped as Luke did the same.
Hastily she smoothed her dress, then her hair. With her ponytail and stupid
June Cleaver headband secured again, she looked back at Luke. He was still
semi-naked. Gee, he looked terrific.

Hang on.
Focus
.

“Your T-shirt! I threw it over here someplace….”

She grabbed it from the cheval mirror it had gotten snagged
on and pitched it to him. With a pang of regret, she watched as he pulled it
on. In seconds, he looked dispiritingly respectable again, his naked chest,
gorgeous arms, and rippled abs all covered by plain black cotton.

“Your hair!” She hurried over to smooth a
pillow-rumpled hank, then stepped back to examine the rest of him. Perfect.
Maybe they could pull this off after all.

“It’s fine. We look fine. They probably won’t even come
in here,” Luke said, angling his head with a posture of readiness.
“The door’s closed.”

Breathing hard, they stared at it. From beyond the paneled
oak, voices and footsteps came closer. Old floorboards creaked.

“Just hold still,” he warned. His smoldering
glance zipped over her figure, looking for anything out of place.

Josie felt her knees weaken. If he kept looking at her that
way, so hot and so knowing….

She couldn’t possibly stand still. Anyone who came in the
room would see her need for him at fifty paces. She turned to the window
instead, pretending to look out at the view of the city park sprawled below.
Pine trees, people walking in twos and threes, balloons and colorful tents.

Yes, that was better. A good six feet separated her and
Luke. They couldn’t possibly look more innocent.

“The bed!” he whispered.

She looked. The huge four-poster was completely wrecked,
rumpled and rolled on. There was no doubt it had seen some hot and heavy
action—and recently, too. No surprise there. Luke lunged toward it, grabbing
the edge of the messy spread. Josie snatched the other edge. Together they
fluffed it, then spread the coverlet. They each rearranged some pillows.

“Good, good,” Josie murmured. “That looks
perfect.”

Footsteps came closer. They stopped.

“Oh! That’s strange,” said a voice from the
hallway. “This door isn’t supposed to be closed.”

Heart pounding, Josie flew to her window. Luke stepped to
the opposite window, pretending an urgent interest in nineteenth-century
woodworking.

The door burst open. Someone gasped.

A prim-looking docent stood there, the entire tour group
crowded behind her. She took one look at Luke and Josie, and her whole face
turned red.

“You! I always
knew
you were up to no
good!”

Josie faced her bravely, determined to stand her ground. As
she did, she realized this was no ordinary docent. That buttoned-up,
tour-giving, ex-Miss-Saguaro-runner-up was Tiffany Maynard—Howie the
Loudmouth’s daughter.

“You were wild growing up,” she said, “you
were wild when you went away to Las Vegas, and you’re wild now!”

Luke gave her a bland look, not recognizing Tiffany as
anyone but an ordinary docent. Then he turned to Josie. Where had he gotten the
pocket tape measure in his hand?

“See? These windowsills are six inches wider than the
ones at Blue Moon,” he said. “That’s the difference.”

Home restoration! It was the perfect cover. She could have
kissed him for thinking of it. Or honestly, for any reason at all.

“Six inches?” she confirmed, suppressing a naughty
grin.

They both gave Tiffany identical wide-eyed looks.

“You don’t fool me!” she cried, arms crossed.
“You’re up to something, Josie Day. You always were. And you—you, with the
tattoos. Get away from that windowsill.”

Obligingly, Luke stepped away. A scowl darkened his
expression, though, and his jaw flexed.

“I’ll have to ask you both to leave this instant.”

Trembling, Josie raised her chin and moved toward the door.
Halfway there, Luke caught her hand in his. They edged through the crowd of
tour goers, all of whom had fallen silent and gaping.

Not for long, though.

The murmuring started up before they hit the stairs. By the
time they reached the first landing, a full-fledged gossip tornado had kicked
up behind them. Terrific. All her hard work, undone in an instant.

“I always
knew
that girl was up to no
good,” came a judgmental voice. “Never was, never will be.”

Never will be
, Josie thought.
Never will be
.

Maybe they were right. But if she couldn’t shake her
reputation, she decided in that moment, the least she could do was earn it.

Chapter Seventeen

The good news, Luke realized after they left the Kincaid
House, was that Josie’s sexy, hip-wiggling, take-no-prisoners shimmy was back
in full force. The bad news was, she was using it to walk away from him. As
mesmerizing as that sight happened to be, he didn’t much like the implications.