Say No To Joe? (24 page)

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Authors: Lori Foster

BOOK: Say No To Joe?
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“You brought it up.”
“Because of you, it's been up.” He laughed, nibbled on her earlobe, teased inside with his tongue, then in a hoarse whisper, “And you expect me to go to bed now to sleep? I'll be up all night. And yeah, I do mean
up.”
Luna nodded. “It won't be easy for me either, you know.”
Sexual arousal hardened his features, making his cheekbones more prominent, his jawline sharper. He started to lean down to her, and they both heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Joe fell back with a groan. “You see? Kids have radar. I better disappear into my room since my condition isn't suitable for an audience.” He tipped up her chin. “Don't let him wear you out, okay? If you need me to step in, let me know.”
Joe didn't tell her to just put Austin in his bed and forget about him. He didn't tell her to threaten the child with punishment. Like Luna, he seemed to understand that Austin's late night adventures had to do with more than the mischievous antics of a child.
Her heart expanded until her chest ached. She kissed him again, quick and light on his mouth. “I can handle it, Joe. Get some sleep.”
With the sound of Austin fast approaching, Joe started backing up. “Promise me you'll wake me if you need me.”
“We'll be fine.”
He stood in his bedroom doorway, one hand on the doorknob, one on the frame. “Promise me, Luna, or I'm not going to bed.”
Austin poked his head into the kitchen, saw they were several feet apart, and sighed in relief. “I'm hungry again.”
Luna laughed. “I promise, Joe. Now, good night.”
He saluted her, winked at Austin, and closed his door.
Joe was still awake an hour later when he heard Luna and Austin take another turn through the kitchen. That was their forth time around, and he could hear Austin droning on in quiet, sincere conversation. Joe's damn heart felt too big for his chest. Everything inside him seemed crowded and uncomfortable and out of place—because of Luna.
No other woman had affected him this way, and he wasn't at all certain he liked it. But then, he'd never played guardian to two small, very needy children either.
He got up, listened at the door until Austin and Luna left the kitchen, then slipped out. He could hear Luna say, “Everyone has bad dreams, Austin. Even when you're awake, they can still bother you sometimes, right?”
“Yeah, 'specially when they seem real.”
“Like the dream you keep having about Willow?” Joe crept up behind them, again eavesdropping and not giving a damn. Most of the lights were turned out, but the front porch light shone through the windows and a pale stair light had been left on.
Austin had his small hand tucked in Luna's and the two of them padded barefoot around the perimeter of the dining room, their gait unhurried, both their heads down as they walked.
Austin nodded. “Yeah. I dream that I can't find her, and then a stranger comes and tells me she's gone, like my mom was gone and . . .”
His small voice got kind of rough there at the end, and he fell silent. Joe squeezed his eyes shut, hurting with Austin, smote clear down to his soul at the emotional torment of one small boy.
Austin swallowed, breathed a little too loudly. Luna waited. Finally, in a tight little voice, he said, “I
hate
that stupid dream.”
“I would, too.”
“I miss my mom a lot.” He made a fist and roughly rubbed his eyes. “I don't want to miss Willow like that.”
Luna stopped at the staircase and sat on the bottom step. She and Austin stared at each other a moment before Luna shrugged. “I'm sorry to insult your masculinity, Austin, but I need a hug really, really bad. Do you think that'd be okay?”
Austin hesitated, shifting from one foot to the next. Then he shocked Joe by crawling right into her lap and wrapping his scrawny arms around her neck. Luna squeezed him tight, her shoulders shuddering a bit. Joe heard a hiccup, a small sniff, but didn't know if it was Luna or Austin. He wished he was part of that hug, because God knew, he needed it, too.
“Mom used to hug me like this,” Austin admitted in a whisper. “She liked huggin'.”
Joe's own eyes got damp, and he retreated to the other side of the wall before they heard him. Head back, Joe squeezed his eyes shut and tried to calm the drumming of his heart now lodged in his throat, choking the hell out of him.
It was emotion overload, damn it. First Willow embracing him earlier, then Luna admitting she finally wanted him, and now this. How the hell was a badass scoundrel supposed to hold up under all that?
“I know I'm not your mom,” Joe heard Luna say, “but if you wouldn't mind, I'd like lots of hugs like this.”
Sounding watery and uncertain, Austin whispered, “You're gonna stay, huh?”
“A team of wild horses couldn't drag me away.”
“And Joe, too? Will he stay?” Before Luna could answer, Austin said, “I want him to stay.”
Joe clenched his teeth and swallowed, but damn it, it didn't do any good. His throat closed up and he knew his eyes were getting misty. Hell, he hadn't got misty-eyed since . . . He didn't remember the last time. Must have been before grade school.
Luna sniffed. “I can't speak for Joe, honey, but I know he likes you an awful lot. Even if he leaves, he'll come back to visit, I promise.”
Damn right, he would, Joe thought.
“He likes the lake, huh?”
“Yes, he likes the lake. But he likes you and Willow even more.”
Several seconds ticked by, then Austin mumbled around a yawn, “I'm tired. I think I'm ready to go to bed now.”
The stairs creaked as they both stood. “I'll tuck you in if you don't mind.”
“Cuz it's something girls like to do?”
“That's right. And if you have any more dreams, you'll come and get me, okay?”
“Okay, then.”
When he heard them overhead, Joe moved to the bottom of the stairs. He stood there with his hands on his hips, his thoughts churning in every direction. He had some decisions to make, the sooner the better.
But one thing was certain—he wasn't about to budge any time soon. As Luna had said, wild horses couldn't drag him away from here now. He'd wait to tell Luna his change in plans. She'd fight him, he just knew it, but it wouldn't do her any good at all. Austin wanted him to stay. Maybe Willow did, too. Eventually, he'd convince Luna.
He'd never considered himself a family man, but now . . . He wanted to try it on for size. He wanted to make a difference in their lives. He wanted—well, a lot. And so he'd stay and that was that.
The decision lightened the heavy weight on his heart. It'd work out. He'd see to it.
Chapter Eleven
T
he late night visit between Luna and Austin seemed a turning point for them all. Over the next few days, they worked, played and talked together. With no more visits from Deputy Royal, things settled down and the kids started to relax. Willow was still reserved, but that just seemed an integral part of her nature. Once when Joe had been wrestling on the floor with Austin, she'd sat on the sidelines and laughed, egging them on.
Luna, however, joined in. From one second to the next, Joe got rolled to his back and both Luna and Austin attacked him. His injured ribs were all but healed, but with Luna bouncing on him, he'd felt a twinge of pain that was more sexual awareness than physical injury.
He needed her.
With every day that passed, he grew more impatient for Monday and the minutes when he'd finally have her alone, in his bed, ready to put him out of his misery. He didn't let the time pass without notice. No, Joe used every opportunity to ensure she'd be ready for him.
If he caught her alone, he copped a quick feel, kissing her neck, her ear, cuddling a breast, patting that delectable behind that had gotten him into trouble with her in the first place.
Only now she didn't complain.
It made Joe crazy the way she accepted his attention, even seemed to revel in it. He considered their private, secretive touching as extended foreplay, and no way in hell would he give it up, even though it kept him taut and on the edge. Luna, the tease, deliberately provoked him.
It got to where if he was in the room, she watched him with her exotic, slanted eyes, practically challenging him to come to her. She sashayed around in her sexy little outfits: short shorts that made his blood boil, strapless tops that exaggerated the swells of her breasts, hip-hugging skirts. And her shoes. Joe shook his head.
Though they were now situated in a country setting, Luna hadn't resorted to sneakers or boots. Her high heels and sexy wedges were as unique in Visitation as Luna herself.
More than once Joe had taken a dip in the cool lake, just to regain control.
He'd also used the days to plan for a reopening of the lake. As Luna had suggested, there were plenty of business related details on Willow's computer. Between that and details the kids had shared, things were under way. All he really needed now were the permits. If it worked out as he planned, the lake would be open and operational in less than four weeks—in plenty of time to take advantage of summer.
The kids had really gotten into the idea, helping in any way they could. For as long as they could remember, the lake had always been opened yearround for a variety of events. Only since their mother passed away had it been shut down, and they missed the familiarity of it.
Discussions of the lake often led to discussions of Chloe. Sometimes they laughed over stories, sometimes they shed a few tears. But the kids enjoyed talking about their mother, so Luna and Joe always listened. Joe had a feeling no one else had bothered.
He was at the kitchen table Saturday night, going over a few last minute details while Luna and Austin took their nightly stroll around the house. Joe could hear the low drone of their voices, the squeak of their feet on the floorboards. Their walks were now as routine as a bedtime story, but their conversation was no longer wrenching. In fact, sometimes they turned the walk into a game. One minute they'd be chatting, then they'd be racing.
Twice now, they'd gotten into pillow fights when Luna attempted to tuck Austin into bed.
Joe wondered if Austin would eventually outgrow the need to talk before sleeping, not that Luna seemed to mind. Joe knew she enjoyed the nightly ritual as much, maybe more so, than Austin. Perhaps, because of her background, she needed the comfort as much as Austin did.
It seemed Luna would now have the family she'd always wanted—and damn it, Joe wanted to be a part of it.
He already knew that she adored his cousins and his cousins' wives—who had become family the minute they married a Winston. Luna would also adore his crazy sister. Alyx could be a real pain in the ass, but then, that was something she and Luna would have in common.
That thought had him grinning.
When Joe heard Luna and Austin upstairs, he rose from the table. Just as they made a habit of walking, he'd made it a practice to double-check every lock before turning in.
Judging by the upstairs light, Luna was still in Austin's room when Joe checked the dead bolt on the front door. Satisfied that all was secure, he started to turn away—and then he heard the sound in the yard.
Nerves prickling, he moved to a window and pushed aside a curtain to search the area. There, close to where the vehicles were parked, a shadow moved. It could have been anything—the shifting of a tree limb, an animal.
Joe knew better.
Like a live wire down his spine, his instincts shouted a warning, and everything inside him went on alert.
“Son of a bitch,” Joe growled low. There would be only one reason for someone to skulk around in the dark of the night. Whoever was out there, they were up to no good.
It didn't matter that he was barefoot, that he was without a shirt, or that they were virtually isolated on the outskirts of town. Since the day Scott Royal had visited, Joe kept his balisong knife tucked into his pocket as a nightly precaution. It was the only weapon he needed, but as he'd told Austin, he was good with his hands, too.
Incensed, Joe silently turned the locks.
“What's going on?” Luna appeared at the top of the stairs, her hands griping the railing.
Beside her, Austin said with fear, “Joe?”
Damn it, he'd hoped to take care of this without her even knowing. “Stay inside, Luna.” Joe pierced her with one fast, searing glance that brooked no arguments. “I mean it.”
She started down the steps in a rush. “Of course, I'll stay inside. What's the matter? What are you doing?”
With no time to waste, Joe ignored her questions and opened the door just enough to slip out, then skirted fast into the deepest shadow. Breath low and even, muscles tensed and ready, he stared toward the cars. And he waited.
After only a moment, his patience paid off and he saw one lengthy shadow that didn't belong in the night-shrouded yard. It shifted, gained form, until Joe saw that a man crouched by his truck. Other than the reflection of moonlight on his blond head, he seemed indistinguishable in black clothes.
Blond.
Rage welled inside Joe; he well remembered the man who'd been watching as he and Luna packed for the trip to Visitation. Apparently, he had followed them just as Jamie Creed had said.
With incredible speed Joe bounded across the porch and down the steps, hitting the hard-packed ground in a flat-out run. His knee objected, stiffening up and sending shards of pain to radiate throughout his thigh and hip. But that was an old, familiar pain now, one he'd long ago learned to live with—thanks to Bruno Caldwell. If this was one of his henchmen, well then, it'd take more than a little pain to keep Joe off him.
At the sound of Joe's thundering approach, the man jerked upright. Shock held him immobile for only a moment of time, then with a panicked screech he high stepped it around Joe's truck toward the wooded area adjacent to the property. The trees and shrubs there shielded the access to the main road.
Knowing he likely had transportation hidden there, Joe pressed himself, determined to catch him. With silent, acute concentration, his long legs ate up the ground, drawing him nearer, nearer. He could feel the blood rushing through his veins, the throbbing of his own heartbeat. His bare feet registered every small rock and piece of debris on the ground. The sonorous breaths of the man he chased mimicked their crashing footfalls.
They reached the blackened woods filled with concealing shadows and foliage. The ground was a trap of twisted roots and fallen branches, sharp brambles and prickling weeds. Joe cursed to himself and stretched out one arm, his fingertips almost there. He lunged—and snagged the back of a black shirt.
Issuing a ridiculously high-pitched scream, the body twisted, striking out, kicking. A clumsy fist landed on Joe's jaw, barely dazing him, and a foot caught him in his sore ribs.
He hung on.
In a wild tangle, they both went down into a bed of sharp-pointed twigs. Joe landed mostly atop the intruder. The man held his arms over the face while kicking and thrashing. In a red haze of rage, Joe drew back his fist, intent on smashing the man's nose. At the last second the man turned his face and the punch landed on his temple. He grunted, his arms fell to his sides and he went limp with a rumbling groan. Joe took quick advantage, drawing back to deliver a knock-out, immobilizing blow.
Willow shouted behind him.
There was no mistaking the fear in her voice. Had Joe miscalculated? Were there two men? He was on his feet in an instant, holding his captive with a hand twisted in his shirtfront. Fear washed through him as he turned toward the house—and he saw a small fire burst to life next to his truck.
It was only a moment of distraction, but the body he held bucked and lunged free. Cursing, Joe reached for him again and stepped on a fallen tree limb. His bad knee crumpled, causing Joe to grit his teeth in pain as he went down.
“Goddammit.”
Frustration bit into him, adding to his fury. He was back on his feet in a heartbeat, but already the intruder had disappeared from sight, swallowed up by the black night. Deep into the woods, Joe could hear the lumbering, quickly receding footsteps, but he couldn't see a thing. He stood undecided for only a moment, knowing he'd never catch the bastard now, not barefoot, not without light. He was sick at the idea of letting him get away.
Again.
Then Luna was there, her flowing white nightshirt billowing in the evening breeze.
“Joe?” She frantically stroked her hands over him, his face, his chest. He heard the trembling in her tone and felt it in her touch. “Are you all right? Damn it, Joe, answer me.”
“I'm fine.” Still tight with anger but determined to reassure her, Joe threw an arm around her, dragging her to his side so he could see beyond her to the fire. “Shit.”
In a hobbling gait, he started forward. Luna braced her shoulder under his arm, offering her slight support. “You are not all right! You damn fool,” she raged. “How dare you do that? How dare you run off into the dark without a weapon—”
Disgusted, Joe said, “I needed shoes, not a weapon. Besides, I had my knife. I just wasn't sure I wanted to stick anyone tonight, especially without knowing who it was.”
She glared at him. “Look, Joe, I know I came here to take care of the kids, and I know they come first. That's a given.”
Thank God. At least if she was worried about the kids, she wouldn't be dogging his heels.
“But I'm not very good at hanging back while you go off to probable danger. In fact, I don't like it at all. I waited this time until I saw the guy run off, but in the future—”
“In the future, you'll do the same.” Through an open window on the porch, Joe could see the pale, alert faces of Willow and Austin where they huddled together. Someone had frightened them. No way in hell would Joe tolerate that.
“I
called Deputy Royal,” Luna told him in a short voice filled with censure. “Which is what
you
should have done before charging off like a vigilante without an ounce of sense—”
“Wives can be such a bother.” Joe kept his gaze on the fire. It was small, but too damn close to his truck. His steps became more hurried. He saw a gas can tipped to the side and quickly moved it farther away. If he hadn't interrupted things when he had, would his truck have been torched?
At his side, Luna huffed. “I'll go get an old blanket before it spreads.” She hurried away.
Willow unlocked the front door to let Luna in, then stepped outside. She had her arms wrapped around herself, her long hair drifting in the damp evening breeze. “There's a hose at the side of the house, Joe. Want me to get it?”
He shook his head. “It's a gasoline fire, hon. That might make it spread.”
Joe's bare feet felt shredded from his chase across a field grown wild with thorny weeds. His knee throbbed. Bloody scratches marred his bare chest and arms from where he'd fallen, and rage burned like acid in his stomach. But he wasn't about to react to any of that yet, not when the kids were watching him so closely.
Luna reappeared with two tattered blankets, and Joe went about smothering the flames. When only smoke remained, he put his truck in neutral and pushed it several yards away, closer to the house and the light of the porch. It was as he left the truck that he saw the deeply etched message on the side.
Take the tramp and leave, before someone gets hurt.
Joe's eyes narrowed and his teeth locked.
He felt a small hand on his bare biceps and twisted to see Willow's wide brown eyes staring at the message. “They mean me.”

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