Rough Tumble (8 page)

It wasn’t even the lie that bothered him the most. He got that she didn’t know him from Adam at the beginning. It was that she kept it going. Made up more things about the guy when he asked about him and he never knew.

He didn’t want to think it about her, but if she had lied that easy, and he had bought it that easy, what other things had she lied about? What could she lie about in the future?

He put the last burger he was cooking for the night over a butter-toasted, crispy bun. Something that wasn’t even an option on the menu, but then it was his burger and he could do as he wanted. Including putting extra grilled onions and peppers over the top and adding extra thick crispy bacon and swiping a slice of Tonya’s pepper jack cheese.

The green tomatoes he’d floured in cornmeal floated in the grease and he pulled those out, sliding the two large slices over his curly
french
fries.
Gotta
love her regulars who brought her some spare green tomatoes. She couldn’t use them to serve to the customers since the garden they came out of wasn’t government approved, but they could all eat them.

Tonya came around the corner and held up a large cup. “Got you some tea. Where you eating at?”

“Your office.”

“Right behind you. My chicken is almost ready.”

He called over his shoulder as he headed out. “Already pulled it up for you. Left it to strain.”

“Thank you!”

Her voice went over his skin in that familiar coaxing sort of way that made his clothes hang a bit itchy and his jeans a bit too tight. He let himself in her office with the extra key she’d made him some months ago and stood in the doorway a moment, closed his eyes and got a breath to clear his head.

Unfortunately what came to mind was her in that soaking wet, white dress that was clean see-through. He dropped in a chair with a groan.

Before he had a chance to sort that thought out, Tonya placed his tea on the desk near him. “My feet are killing me. Do you want anything for your back or legs after standing over that grill?”

“No, I’m good.” The only thing he wanted right now was her, flat on her back, no clothes. Not wet see-through ones. Not skimpy ones. Not a swimsuit that left little to the imagination. But absolutely nothing. Chill bumps would be okay. He cleared his head as she reached back and closed the door.

Something she did so often. She had a lot of cash in here. The door was often closed. It was different this time. The door wasn’t just shut protecting the cash drawers. It was closed with them alone. The door auto-locks and she was single now.

She dropped in her desk chair and poured ranch over her fried chicken salad. “How did the meeting go with…Michael?”

Yeah, Michael. Michael who asked if she was his wife and it was a question that didn’t get his back up. The idea didn’t jerk him to the past like the words
wife
and
marriage
had done so often in the past. Even knowing her secret. Knowing how she could lie so easy, those words still hadn’t bothered him. On one hand it terrified him. On another, he let out a breath. All he had to do was give himself permission. “He wanted to know if you were single.”

Her eyes widened. “He was old enough to be my dad!”

He chuckled. “Yep and he has a son.”

“I hope you didn’t give him my number.”

“Of course not.” Like hell, more like it. Because Michael had asked how he could contact her, and he’d knee-jerked into saying she wasn’t available. He was still wrapping his head around it, but he already knew what he wanted. “But he said everything looked good, was ready to go. They’re finishing up their last job now and can have a crew to get started as early as next week. That’s if it doesn’t rain anymore.”

“That’s great.” She pushed her half-eaten chicken salad away and groaned with a pat over her stomach.

“Feeling okay?”

She tilted her head back. “I still have wedding cake and cookies.”

He laughed. “Enough left that you’ll share?”

“I’ll share with you and everyone else. I have one and half of those big rounds left. One has a lemon center. I think the other might be strawberry, but I’m not sure. Chocolate is gone though.”

And just like that, he was jerked back to her in that wet dress and her strawberry red colored nipples that had eased out from the gap in the dress around her kitchen table. He could go for smearing some cake down the center of her, circle frosting around her nipples and take his time licking and sucking her clean.

“You all right?”

He blinked and glanced across the table to see her head tilted to the side and eyes focused on him. He nodded. “I’m fine. Long day.”

As soon as he figured something out, things would be excellent. Damn near perfect if he had his way. He liked getting his way.

Chapter Seven

Tonya kicked off her shoes at the door and wiggled her toes in the carpet. Even though Trent was already laughing at her for it, she couldn’t stop the moan that went through her.

A full, all out, stretching kind of moan. Something she hadn’t even realized she’d done until he pointed it out. “Let me put the money in the safe and then I’ll get the cake out.”

“I’ll get plates.”

She walked away from him slowly. Waiting, anxious to see if it would happen. It did. He took off his boots.

He was staying for more than a few minutes. She hurried to her bedroom, dropped the moneybag in the drop-open door safe in her closet and hurried back to the kitchen. He was in her refrigerator, shuffling things around and came out with the gallon of milk she kept just for him.

He was back in the diner. He was talking to her. He came to her house. She was afraid to press for too much more on what he was thinking, but it was killing her.

She dipped under his arm and pulled out the cake. They moved, nearly like a dance around one other. Him pulling down plates, her going for forks. They’d done this exact thing countless times and having it again after days apart, it made it easier to relax after the long day of working at the diner.

She cut off two thick slices of cake and sat at the table with them as he finished filling her ice water and picked up his tall glass of cold milk. He sat at the table. Arms wide and stretched over the table. “This looks so good.”

She dipped her fork through the thick flower made of butter cream frosting hanging on to the edge of her piece. “Tastes even better.”

Without fanfare, not even a moment to savor, he hacked off a big chunk, stuck it in his mouth and had a little smile kick up the corner of his mouth just before stuffing another bite in.

She shook her head. He was always like that. Aggressive with what he did. Focused. She leaned closer to the table and slid her frosting covered fork in her mouth and took time to enjoy the layers. The sweet cream, the light, barely there hint of sugar and the vanilla explosion of the frosting. She might have moaned a little then did it all over again.

The cake part was good, but let’s face it, it was just cake. Fluffy, delicate and oh so soft, but it wasn’t the smooth sweetness of frosting. Or the tart, jaw-squeezing love of the lemon filling smeared between layers. She scraped her fork across the white cake, taking up the last of the lemon filling when his fork appeared on her plate and stabbed a big piece of her discarded cake.

She let it go, because that’s what they were. They stole food off each other’s plate. When working outside and the sun was so blistering hot that no amount of sunscreen would prevent a sunburn, they shared water bottles. Simple. So easy.

She glanced to him as she pushed her plate away. What they had together was smooth and easy. It’s why they were such good friends. Uncomplicated. Until the last few days. As much as she didn’t want to press, she had to know where his head was in all this. “We didn’t get to finish talking this afternoon.”

With a baseball size slice of cake nearly to his mouth, he paused. He lowered the fork, drank his milk and sat back in his chair with a heavy breath. “I shouldn’t have left for days without talking to you. I’m sorry. I was frustrated. Angry with your reasons on why he cheated.”

She didn’t want to touch back on that. It was twisted the way she looked at it, she knew that. But she just couldn’t help it. She had been happy with Marc when they were together. He was happy. There was no other reason for why he’d cheated on her. “Thank you.”

“I understand why you started the lie, but how you kept it up for so long, how you fooled me and continued to lie to my face for so long really threw me for a loop.”

“I’ve wanted to tell you so many times.” She lowered her gaze and shook her head. “So many times.”

“Why did you wait?”

She gave a one-shoulder shrug. “It’s embarrassing for one. And…well.” She breathed out, collapsed against her chair, and met his gaze again. “You always liked that I waited for him.”
I was afraid to lose you over it.

“I liked that you remained faithful. I didn’t like that you remained faithful to
him
because I thought he was dick.”

That she did know. While he’d praised her patience and waiting, he hadn’t hidden his opinions about Marc. “I know, but I just didn’t want to disappoint you. It reached a point where I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“You have to tell the rest of the town.”

She scrubbed over her face. “I know.”

“Do it fast. Like a Band-Aid.”

What was she supposed to do, climb a tree at the courthouse and announce it to the world? She pulled her hair tie out and leaned on the table, scrubbing at her scalp and loosening the strands. “I don’t know where to start.”

He stood and grabbed the plates. “Who’s the biggest gossip in town?”

“Ah….” She laughed. Lot of options there. “I guess Lucille at the beauty parlor because she talks to several of them during the day.”

He dropped the plates in the sink, turned and leaned on the counter, arms crossing over his chest. It pulled the cuffs of his shirt tight around his biceps. Molded to the muscles. White shirt stopped and marks of black tattoo licked down his arms. His chest was broad, firm under his arms. Waist narrow and jeans low on his hips. “There’s your Band-Aid.”

“I guess.” She carried cups, reached around him. It was impossible not to notice the heat coming from his body.

“No one says you have to tell them everything.” He gave a one-shoulder shrug and turned until facing her, bent down a little with his elbow resting on the counter top. He wasn’t that much taller than her, so with him slightly leaned down that way, they were close to being eye-to-eye. “I know. The girls know. No one else.”

A little something filled in her. Hope, she dared to think. He was right. They didn’t have to know they muddy details. They just had to know they broke up. Hope sank like bricks. “Just so many people have said how sweet it is I wait for him.”

“You were. And he was a shit for not coming back before now or not moving you there. It’s been years since he left. You’re different. He probably is too. Hell, he may never come back. His family lives a ways from here, don’t they?”

She nodded. “An hour.”

“It’s nobody’s business anyway. It wasn’t working anymore. Leave it at that. Less specific the better.”

She smiled up at him. “I’ve ruined you. I’ve never know you to be so sneaky.”

He moved closer. Gaze steady on her. Shoulders so broad and his long, long legs. “I’ve been forced to hide my sneaky ways and dark thoughts. You’d never let me in your house if you knew what they really were.”

“I bet.” Wait. Did she move closer too? Cause he was relaxed and basically lying against her counter. His face was inches from hers. His dark green eyes were round, a ring of midnight blue outlined them. Humor crinkled the corners.

“It’s true. I know you think I’m cute and all, but it’s just for show.”

“
Hmm
. I think that’s what your brothers say about you.” That time she knew she stepped in closer. Oh, this was crazy. It was exciting. Holy heck, what was she doing? She didn’t care and inched a bit closer. “No, they call you crazy. And annoying. And a lot of four-letter words.”

“They would know better than anyone.”

The tips of her breasts now touched his chest. A charge was building. Vibrations hummed through her ears. The sound of her pulse throbbing so fast. “I think you’re full of it most of the time.”

He faked hurt feelings. “Cold, Woman. Cold.”

She was anything but cold. Warm. Very, very warm. And with his smile like that? The corner all turned up enough that his barely there dimple showed. Getting warmer. “Trent.”

“I know.”

Then maybe he could explain it to her? Or not. Just going with it seemed like a much better idea. This was what she wanted after all. Leaning a little closer. Stepping a little closer. He touched her arm. Fingers caressed up and down. That’s the only place they touched, but it was electric fire burning through her. The pads of his fingers caressing her arm.

How many nights had she thought of this? Nights. Please. How many hours, day and nights had she imagined this moment of his head lowering. Her moving in. Countless times.

She put her hand flat on his chest. She’d swatted him there, popped him with dishrags and any number of other things. This was wow. His heart pounded under her palm and she made the last move. She stepped in, slid her hands up his chest and aiming to wrap them around his neck.