Night Heat (11 page)

Leah couldn't help but remember those times. Jocelyn had been close to their father and she had
been close to their mother. She'd died when Leah had been only twelve, and all Leah could remember was how empty she'd felt. Jocelyn had always been Daddy's girl and hadn't experienced the same sense of loss as Leah had. From the day they'd placed her mother in the ground, Leah couldn't wait to move away from a town filled with loneliness for her without the mother she had adored.

“I was sorry to hear about your dad, Leah. Everyone around here was. He was a good man.”

Leah nodded. She hadn't realized just what a good man he was until she'd found herself alone, hurt and out in California on her own. More than once she'd come close to picking up the phone and telling him what had happened to her and why she'd left the way she had. But shame had kept her from doing so.

Her only saving grace was actually someone with the name of Grace. How she had ended up on the woman's doorstep one night, she still wasn't sure. All she knew was that she was convinced she'd heard footsteps behind her while walking home alone from the restaurant where she'd worked. Remembering what had happened to her before, she had gone almost stone-crazy and had run to the first house she'd come to and begged for help.

Help had come in the way of an older woman, no bigger than a mite, who had offered her safety.
Grace Thorpe had been a godsend. After making sure Leah was safe, she'd offered her food to eat and a place to stay, much better than the dump where she'd been living.

Grace's two sons had threatened to move their mother in with them and their wives on a rotating basis, not wanting the old woman to live alone anymore. What Grace had needed was a companion, someone to be there with her during the day and to do the grocery shopping and drive Grace to church on Sundays. Since Leah worked at the restaurant at night, she grabbed the opportunity.

Half an hour later after leaving the hair salon, Leah was strolling through downtown Newton Grove, checking out the various shops and noticing what changes the town had made over the years. After living in the hustle and bustle of L.A. for five years, she appreciated the solitude and quiet a place like Newton Grove offered. She'd never realized how much she missed living in this town until now.

Tossing her hair out of her eyes, she kept walking, remembering a place close by that used to sell breakfast and wondering if it was still open. She had gotten up early and had started a pot of coffee but hadn't made breakfast for herself, or her sister, who rarely took the time for breakfast.

Jocelyn.

Leah couldn't help but wonder what was going on
with her sister. There was never a time she didn't think her older sister was in control and made things happen just the way she wanted. But now, at twenty-three, Leah was seeing things through different eyes, more appreciative and caring eyes, and she hoped that whatever had caused Jocelyn to walk the floor last night would go away.

Leah passed in front of a store window and stopped. Then she noticed what had grabbed her attention. It was a baby store with a number of items on display. She pulled her jacket closer around her and not for the first time she remembered the dream she'd had to let go of years ago.

She would never have the baby she always wanted. A little one she could bounce on her knee, sing lullabies to and sprinkle with the scent of baby powder. She had dreamed about this child of hers for so long and how he would look up at her with dark-brown eyes and the same smile that had gone straight to her heart—like his father's had done six years ago. There was nothing that could even make her think of staying in Newton Grove until she had met Reese the summer before her senior year of high school.

Love and caring hadn't meant a damn thing to her until then. The only thing she wanted to do was hurry up and graduate and haul ass, go as far west and away from Tennessee as a plane ticket could take her.

Then, in a slow, methodical process Reese had broken down her defenses. He had done something no one else had been able to do—he'd understood her loss. He had listened when she had wanted to talk about her mother. He had understood her pain and sense of loss because he had experienced those same things himself when he'd lost his father at sixteen. With patience, care and understanding, he had made her fall in love with him in a way that was so complete that she hadn't thought of leaving town. The only thing she had wanted to do was to hang around, marry him and have his babies.

But now that was a dream that would never come true. Although there was no physical reason why she couldn't have a child, she would never be able to let a man touch her that way. At one point she had thought about artificial insemination, but a lot of things prevented that. First, she didn't have the money and her insurance would not cover such a procedure. Second, she would still have to take off her clothes for the procedure, and she couldn't do that in front of anyone. Third, the thought of carrying a baby from someone she didn't know was a turn-off for her. The only man's baby she'd ever dreamed of having was Reese's.

Feeling a knot settling in her throat, she wiped a hand across her face, swiping at the tears that she couldn't stop from flowing down her cheeks. Life
was cruel, but considering all the hard times she had given her father while growing up, maybe in the end she had gotten everything she deserved. With that thought more tears began to fall.

 

Reese had just walked out of the café holding a steaming cup of coffee. It was early and the air was brisk, but nothing smelled better than fresh roasted brew in the morning. He headed for his parked truck, determined to be at the construction site before the men got there this morning. He needed to go over yet another change Marcella Jones had made, but at least thanks to Sebastian Steele, it was a change she would be paying for.

He liked Steele, although he knew Jocelyn hadn't yet gotten used to the guy hanging around. But he felt fairly certain that once she saw he wasn't one of the bad guys she would be okay. His handling of Manuel's situation had proven that he did have a heart.

Reese was about to unlock his truck door and get in when something made him look to the right. He blinked, thinking he was seeing things. Standing a few doors from the café was a woman whose profile so closely resembled Leah's that it was startling. And the more he stared at her, the more he began to realize that it was Leah.

He would know her anywhere, the woman who
years ago had stolen his heart, just like he would always remember the one night he had made her his in a way no other man had. It had been special for the two of them and—

He immediately forced the thoughts from his mind. That night had been special for him, but evidently not for her, because less than a month later she had left town without looking back. He would never forget the pain he had felt when she'd left. It was pain that still lived in a place deep in his heart, although he wished it would get out of there and leave him alone. He knew that until he was able to let go he would never be worth a damn to any other woman. The thought that Leah had done that to him left a bitter taste in his mouth.

A part of him just wanted to get in the truck and drive away and pretend he hadn't seen her. But for some reason he couldn't do that. The only way he could eradicate Leah from his mind and heart forever finally was to come face to face with her again. He no longer wanted to know why she'd left the way she had, since nothing she said now would matter. He just had to be convinced that he could look her in the face and then turn and walk away.

He took slow steps toward her, and the closer he got the harder his heart began pounding. And when he finally came to stand behind her, he stood without moving since she hadn't noticed his presence. She
was too busy studying the items in the store's window. He glanced beyond her to see what had her absolute attention and frowned. It was a baby shop and she was looking at baby clothes. Why would she be doing that?

The next question that skated through his mind was who was pregnant? He didn't like the answer he suddenly came up with. Could the reason Leah wasn't in a hurry to return to California be because she was pregnant?

A blade, sharper than any knife he'd ever handled, sliced through his insides at the thought that she could possibly be carrying a child that wasn't his. He hung his head as pain clouded his thoughts, and he knew he had to get away from there. But something held him transfixed and he knew he had to do this. He had to confront a part of his past that he wished at that moment had never taken place.

Sighing deeply, he took a step closer and noticed Leah was trembling and her shoulders were shaking. Evidently, she was a lot colder than he was.

Deciding not to prolong things, he forced her name from his lips. “Leah?”

 

Leah's body went stiff, and she hoped more than anything she had imagined the sound of the deep masculine voice. The last thing she needed at that particular moment was to come face to face with the
one man who still had a clamp on her heart. The one man she had never stopped loving. The one man she had hurt deeply. And the one man she would never deserve to have again.

“Leah?”

When he said her name a second time, she knew fate was being more than cruel to her today. It was being outright merciless. Pulling in a deep breath, as deep as she could inhale, taking one final swipe at her tears and bracing herself, she slowly turned around while asking God to give her the strength to endure what she knew was going to be one of the hardest moments of her life.

N
othing could have prepared Reese for the impact of looking into the face of the woman who had shattered his heart into a thousand tiny pieces. Bitterness, anger, hurt and the pain he hadn't been able to let go of suddenly hit him full force, and he almost crushed the hot cup of coffee he held in his hand.

All he could think was that standing before him was the woman who'd once told him she loved him. The woman he had thought he would forever share his life with. The woman destined to be the mother of his children, and the one woman who even now had the love he hadn't been able to share with any other.

The thought that he still loved her, hadn't gotten over her, although he had tried, left a bitter taste in his mouth, left his joints achy with humiliation and made everything within him want to strike out and hurt her as much as she had hurt him. But something was keeping him from doing that. He frowned, seeing the wetness of her eyes and the single tear she'd tried to quickly swipe away. Leah was crying. Why? And why was he even giving a damn?

Then he remembered. She was standing in front of the display window at a baby store. Something about babies had her upset. He quickly jumped back to his earlier suspicion. Was Leah pregnant, and was that the reason she was hanging around?

“Reese, it's good seeing you.”

Her words cut into him. The sound of her voice used to send excitement buzzing through every cell in his body. Now it hit a brick wall of resentment. How could she fix her mouth to say it was good seeing him when this was the first time they had come face to face in five years?

He sighed deeply. “I wish I could say the same thing, Leah,” he said, his voice low while he fought to keep it steady. “But at the moment, it's not good seeing you again.”

Although his words hurt, Leah knew they were what she deserved, and she stood still, feeling the intense anger radiating from him. Jocelyn had
warned her, but nothing could have prepared her for this degree of anger. Not from the man who had taught her how to love. The man who had shown her it wasn't always about her but the people she cared about and who cared for her. She'd never got a chance to let him know she'd learned the lessons he had so lovingly taught. The night she was going to commit her heart and soul to him was the same night Neil had assaulted her.

She felt a tear she couldn't fight back slide down her cheek as she met his hostile gaze and said, “I'm sorry you feel that way, Reese.”

She watched the frown that formed between his thick eyebrows and saw the narrowing of his eyes. “Why haven't you left yet? There's nothing here for you anymore. You made that decision five years ago, didn't you? That none of us were worthy of your time, consideration…and love.”

Her heart clutched as a sharp pain ripped through it. He would think that, wouldn't he? And since he would continue to think that, there was nothing she could say or do to ease the pain or soothe his anger. The best thing to do was to leave.

“I think I'd better go now,” she said, not wanting to argue with him. Besides, seeing the fury in his eyes was too much. Reese had always been one of the most easy-going, gentle and loving people she
knew. To know he had become a ball of anger because of her was more than she could handle.

“Yeah, go, Leah. Walk away. Leave and don't look back. You're good at that, aren't you?”

She felt more tears well up in her eyes, tears she refused to stand before him and shed. “Yeah, I guess I am. Goodbye, Reese.” And as quickly as her legs could carry her, she turned and began walking away. And although it broke her heart, she didn't look back.

 

“What do you mean we got the wrong tile?”

“Because it's not what we ordered,” Harry Henderson answered Jocelyn in disgust. “The box says it's what we ordered but the color is off a shade. See for yourself.”

Shaking her head in frustration, Jocelyn put down the saw and went to inspect the box in question. Mason Construction had used Harry exclusively for all their tile work for as long as she could remember. Over the years the older man had brought his son and his grandsons into the business, however, he refused to give up the work and retire.

She often wondered how, at seventy-one, he was able to get on his knees to lay tile. But she had to admit he was still good at what he did and could be depended on more than a lot of the younger workers.

She opened the box and looked in. He was right. These marble tiles had the wrong accent color.

She glanced back up at Harry. “How much of the wrong tile did we get?”

Harry rubbed his bald head, reluctant to tell her. “All thirty boxes, which was supposed to cover over three-hundred square feet.”

The entire foyer. Jocelyn breathed in deeply. It was either that or scream. “Let's get the store on the phone.”

“I did that already. They apologized for their mistake but said when they called the distributor they were told it's a popular shade that wouldn't be available for six weeks.”

“Six weeks! But it was their mistake.”

“I told them that. But six weeks was the best they could do.”

“That's not good enough,” Jocelyn said, seeing red. And it didn't help matters that she hadn't gotten a good night's sleep. “Marcella wants to move into this place in two weeks. Let's skip the distributor and go straight to the manufacturer.”

“I did that, too. It's their policy to deal only with the distributor.”

“I don't give a hoot about their policy. Give me the number,” she said, snatching the cell phone out of her back pocket and punching in the numbers Harry was calling out to her. This was definitely not her morning. They'd had to cancel the committee meeting because three of the members had called at
the last minute to say they couldn't make it. And then the traffic light on the corner of Rondell and Marlborough had been out, which had backed traffic up for almost an hour.

Jocelyn sighed when she encountered an auto prompter and had to punch in some more numbers. She glanced up and saw that Harry had had the good sense to get lost for a while after sensing she was getting hotter than fire. Reese would normally handle discrepancies such as this, but the guys told her he'd left to pick up supplies. They'd further told her that he was in a bad mood. She couldn't help but wonder what had Reese's dander up.

A half hour later, her head was spinning and she'd gotten nowhere. The six-week delay still stood.

Jocelyn snapped the phone shut. Didn't businesses believe in providing good customer service anymore?

“So, what's going on?”

She looked up and her eyes collided with those of Bas. For some reason, seeing him made more anger spike through her. He was the reason for her not getting the proper rest last night, and seeing him reminded her of it.

And to make matters even worse, the midday sunlight that was streaming through those windows they'd installed a couple of weeks ago was hitting him at an angle that made an uncomfortable quiver
pass through her stomach, not to mention the flush of heat that spread through her body. As usual, he was wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. This time the shirt was rooting for the Pittsburgh Steelers. She frowned, wondering if he had a real allegiance to any team. To any woman.

She shook her head, getting even angrier that she would wonder about such a thing; his love life was no concern of hers.

“Bas to Jocelyn,” he said, waving a hand back and forth in front of her face. “Can you read me? You seemed to have zoned out.”

Even angrier than before, she folded her arms over her chest. “And where have you been?”

He leaned back against the fireplace mantel and smiled slowly. “I didn't know you wanted me.”

What he said and the way he said it sent her pulse into overdrive. It wasn't fair. The man had a sexy physique, he was handsome as all outdoors, and on top of everything else he had a sexy voice that could rival Barry White's any day.

“Did you want me, Jocelyn?”

Sighing deeply, she set her jaw, determined not to say anything. She thought better of it and opened her mouth to tell him a thing or two, but he was quick and placed a finger to her lips. “Remember our truce.”

She glared. She didn't care one iota about their so-
called truce. Her main concern was tile, namely marble. If Marcella got wind that she would have to wait six weeks for her foyer to be completed, all hell would break loose. A thought suddenly came into Jocelyn's head. Bas was supposed to be the expert troubleshooter, the fixer-upper, the problem solver. So let him deal with it and see if he made more progress than she did.

“We got the wrong tile,” she snapped.

He gave her a carefree look. “Then return it.”

As if she hadn't been trying to do that for the past half hour. “It'll be another six weeks before the distributor can replace it.”

“Tough. We'll go to the manufacturer.”

Did he think she hadn't tried that already, too? “I did that,” she all but spat out. “And I got nowhere.”

“What's the name of the distributor?”

Jocelyn blew out a sharp breath. “Arnett Distributors.”

“Arnett Distributors?” He almost laughed. “Then there shouldn't be a problem.”

He sounded so convinced she couldn't help but ask, “And why shouldn't there be a problem?”

He smiled again as he met her gaze while pulling out his cell phone and punching in numbers he evidently knew by heart. “Because the Steele Corporation is one of their biggest clients.”

Jocelyn nervously chewed the insides of her
cheeks. Could it be possible that Bas had enough clout with Arnett to rectify a major screw-up? She couldn't help remembering the last house they'd done for Marcella Jones and how she claimed the kitchen fixtures hadn't been the ones she'd ordered. She'd pitched such a fit that Jim had taken the six-hour drive to Birmingham and back to pick up the ones Marcella claimed she was supposed to have. Jocelyn didn't relish the thought of having to tell her about the tile.

“Mark Arnett, please.”

Bas's words intruded into her thoughts and she wondered how he'd gotten past the auto prompts. She wondered too if he'd gotten any more sleep last night than she had. He didn't seem tired and grouchy this morning. Evidently he hadn't had a restless night remembering how they had indulged in such a mind-blowing kiss. Maybe it had been mind-blowing just to her. Maybe for him it was just so-so.

“Mark? How are you? This is Sebastian Steele. Yes, I'm fine.” Then cutting to the chase he said, “Look, I need your help and I want you to put it to the top of your list.” He nodded. “Good. There's been a mix-up with a supplier of one of our subsidiary companies and I need it straightened out. I need a particular style of marble tile sent to me right away.” There was a pause. “How soon? Overnight if you can.”
Another pause. “Here's the style number,” he said and began reading the information off the invoice.

“Think you can handle that?” he asked without missing a beat. “Great. Here's the address I want it sent to.”

Five minutes later Bas was hanging up the phone, smiling. “Any other fires you want me to put out?”

Not unless he wanted to drop a gallon of water on her head, Jocelyn thought as intense heat ran through every part of her body. While he'd been on the phone with Mark Arnett, trying to save her company from Marcella Jones's wrath, she'd been studying him like a teenager in lust. Every time he moved his body, she got the full effect of seeing him in his tight-fitting jeans and saw how they contoured to his muscular thighs. And if that wasn't bad enough, that Pittsburgh Steelers T-shirt was clearly emphasizing muscular arms, a firm flat chest and nice wide shoulders. Display Bas on a poster and she would buy whatever he was advertising.

“Jocelyn?”

Snatched out of her reverie, she lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. “No, there aren't any more fires you need to put out. Thanks.”

“Don't mention it.” He glanced around. “Where's Reese?”

“Doing a pickup.”

He blew out a breath and frowned. “When do you expect him back?”

She lifted a brow. “Not sure. Is anything wrong?”

“No, just have him call the office when he returns.”

For some reason Jocelyn felt he wasn't telling her everything. Why did he want to talk to Reese? He was just the foreman. She was the one in charge of things. Maybe she needed to remind him of that.

“Look,” she said, leaning closer and looking intently at him.

“Yes?” he said, and she felt the force of his own gaze back.

“You do remember who's in charge, don't you?”

He smiled. “Yeah, I think so, but do you want to remind me again?”

She frowned, and suddenly wanted to find the hammer and clobber him. “I'm trying to be nice.”

“You shouldn't have to try so hard. It should come naturally,” he said and reached out and tweaked her nose. “I'll see you later.”