Tempt Me Tonight (32 page)

“Maybe Joe’s right about that, honey.”

Carissa just nodded, looking irritated, and Beverly felt bad—but she’d have to thank Joe later for seeing what she hadn’t. He was so very good to her daughter, and even as she said, “Gotta get back to work,” and walked away, she felt that old, familiar tug to make a perfect little family with him, and she couldn’t help seething at the thought of holier-than-thou Trish Henderson back in his arms. She knew they’d been seen around town together, cruising in the Cobra. And she also knew Trish would never give Joe what he needed—a family, a wife, something solid and lasting.
Oh Joe, why can’t you see how good we’d be together?

Picking up the coffee pot, she strode down to Butch to freshen his cup. The early dinner crowd was thinning, and she hoped Joe and Carissa would leave soon now that they’d finished eating—but Carissa hadn’t even changed out of that dress yet, and she’d seen Joe eyeing the pie case.

Butch wore a lazy smile, seduction teeming in his eyes. “Head out to the truck with me, darlin’?”

Her body wanted to—no matter how he treated her, her body still desired him. He wasn’t Joe, of course, but then, nobody was. She’d always been very aware that a girl had to take what she could get in this world.

And yet…having him here, in the same room as Carissa, made her a little nauseous for reasons she couldn’t explain. Maybe it was easier to sleep with men she didn’t know very well when she was focusing only on herself. It was harder with her daughter just a few feet away—even now, she heard Carissa laugh and felt glad her mood was lightening. Maybe Bev was suddenly wondering what Carissa’s future held and hoping it was something better than hers had. She’d have died if Carissa ever knew she slept with truckers passing through town, so desperate to be held that even a stranger would do.

“I can’t, Butch,” she said finally. “My kid’s here.”

“Yeah?” He started to lean around her, to glance toward Carissa, but Beverly found herself stepping over to block his view. To keep those parts of her life from touching any more than they already had. He leaned back in the booth, his interest in her daughter clearly a passing thing, and lifted his small, flirtatious grin back in her direction. “I can wait.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. Not today.” Besides Carissa’s presence, it was the middle of the dinner hour—not Butch’s usual time. It was one thing to climb up into his truck on a quiet afternoon or in the dark of night, but somehow, the dinner hour felt more seamy.

“Come on now, sugar, don’t tease. I’ve had a hankering for you all the way since Illinois. And you know you can’t say no to me.”

Something in Beverly’s chest burned. She was no more than a hankering to him, merely sex in the back of his truck—while he probably had some unsuspecting wife at home who Bev had been trying like hell to pretend didn’t exist all this time. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he was so smug that he thought she couldn’t resist. “You know what, Butch?” she said.

“What’s that, darlin’?”

She bent closer over his table. “The truth is, I don’t think this thing between us is working out for me anymore. It never did, really—it was just a way to pass the time. So you’re welcome to come in for a waffle or some coffee,
darlin’,
but afraid all you’re gonna get after you eat from now on is the check.”

With that, she ripped his bill off her pad, lowered it to the table, then turned and walked back to Carissa and Joe, to see if they wanted some pie. And in the short time it took to travel the length of the counter, she suddenly felt better, stronger, than she had in a very long time. Who knew—if she worked real hard, maybe she’d learn to be somebody her daughter could look up to.

Late Thursday night, Trish lay naked in Joe’s bed. A cool front had urged him to turn off the AC and open the windows, so a soft breeze wafted over them, lifting the sheer curtains to flutter overhead.

“And then what?” he asked. She lay cuddled against his chest, his arm anchored gently around her.

“And then Marjorie burst into tears of joy and Jeremiah barked, and everyone in the courtroom laughed—except for her scumbag neighbor, but I guess I can’t blame the guy because he’s about to be nine hundred dollars poorer, and he also either has to fence his yard or keep his scumbag dog on a chain.” Joe smiled down at her, and she realized she was actually giggling against his chest, remembering the outcome in court.

“This made you happy, helping out Marjorie, huh?”

She nodded. “I guess it just felt good to do something nice for someone with my law degree that didn’t involve days or weeks of heated debates, or wondering who was guilty and who was innocent—even though I try not to focus on that when I can help it. It was nice just to get a little justice for someone I like.”

“I’m sure Marjorie appreciated it.”

She raised her head slightly, perching her chin on her hands to peer inquisitively down at him. “When you brought me those tulips last week, did you get them from Marjorie’s shop?”

He nodded easily. “Why?”

She’d been meaning to ask ever since, because she’d wondered…“Did she help you pick them out?”

To her surprise, he shook his head, looking only slightly affronted. “No, I can pick out flowers by myself.”

She drew in her breath. “Why’d you pick tulips?”

He shrugged against his pillow. “Saw them in the cooler and thought they were pretty—that’s all.” Then he added, “I was gonna get all pink—that color drew me for some reason—but she only had one left, so she mixed up other colors for me.”

Trish’s stomach hollowed. Joe had picked the one flower Marjorie had suggested for Trish’s wedding? Whoa.

Not that it mattered. It was a flower in a cooler, for heaven’s sake.

Still, what a…romantic coincidence. In fact, it nearly took her breath away.

“You okay?” he asked. “You look a little weird.”

She came back to herself. “Thanks. You look a little weird, too.” Then she playfully smacked his stomach and rolled to her back next to him with a laugh.

“So, think you can stand not seeing me tomorrow?” He eased up on his side, propping on one elbow to grin down at her. “I have a feeling this dress thing is gonna take all damn night. We’ll probably be there ’til the stores close.”

She cast a placating smile. “I’ll try to survive.” When he’d told her about Carissa’s dress, she’d almost offered to go with them, sensing his worry over the task. But she’d decided that would only immerse her
too
deeply in his world, right when she needed to start—somehow—backing away a bit.

The fact was, she was putting the finishing touches on the diner. And when she was done, she had to go back to Indianapolis. It wasn’t just about her sanity, but also about her job, her responsibilities. She’d ended up staying in Eden—and Joe’s bed—a lot longer than she’d ever planned, but checking her e-mail today had reminded her that she
was
up for partner, that Richie Melbourne’s case
was
pending, and that other people in the office counted on her. She hadn’t told Joe yet—and she wasn’t going to right now, not until after his sister’s wedding on Saturday. But she needed to start mentally disentangling herself from him—in her head, and also in her heart.

“I hope Beverly realizes how lucky she is to have you in her daughter’s life.”

“I think she does. She thanks me a lot. But…”

“But what?”

He pinned her in place with his gaze, looking deadly serious. “I talk to her as little as possible, Trish.”

She tilted her head against the pillow, confused. “Okay.”

“I mean…I just want you to know she’s not in my life other than when we discuss Carissa. And I keep that short. Like I told you after we put up the hay, there was only that one night with her—nothing else. I stop in and eat at the Waffle House once a week or so, just to check on Carissa, but that’s the only place I ever see her.”

Trish let all that sift quietly down through her.

The truth was that she didn’t want to care about what he’d just told her—but she did. She didn’t want to feel relief over it, but she did. She’d not thought a lot about Beverly Rainey—in the present, in his life—since coming home. But maybe something
had
nagged at her deep down—the connection they shared over a child, even if the child wasn’t technically his. She’d never let herself even recognize it until this moment.

So she considered playing it cool, tough, and telling him it was none of her concern because she’d be leaving soon. But instead she simply said, “Thanks for telling me, Joe.”

Then she kissed him.

And thought—
Oh boy, this is bad, feeling so close to him.

And it was only then that it hit her. She’d never had
this much
sex with a guy before.

Over time, maybe, but she’d never had a boyfriend or lover who she couldn’t get enough of no matter how many times they did it, who she saw every night and couldn’t resist.

And now, now…somewhere along the way, it had become not just sex, but sex and
talking. Laughing. Sharing.

Put the wall up, Trish. Keep your priorities straight. Remember your responsibilities. And remember to guard your heart. Don’t let anyone ever hurt you that badly again.

“Stay the night?” he asked.

She hadn’t so far, claiming it had to do with not getting her dad in an uproar. This was no time to start. In fact, it was a good time to leave. “No, I’m gonna take off.” She rose to look for her panties, which she found at the foot of the bed.

“Don’t know what you’re missin’,” he teased her. “I’d snuggle up to you all night long.”

She couldn’t even smile—the promise sounded too tempting. But she had to
stop
being tempted by Joe Ramsey, once and for all. “Sorry, Joe—I’m leaving.”

He sat up behind her. “I want to watch the sun rise with you, Trish.”

Stepping into her underwear, she stopped, looked over her shoulder. “Huh?”

“Let’s go outside,” he said. “Let’s sit in the backyard and talk. I bet we don’t run out of things to say before dawn.”

Stay:
temporarily stopping a judicial proceeding;
or
to remain; to not leave.

The truth was, it had surprised him when she agreed. But he’d been just as surprised when he’d asked. He hadn’t planned it, had simply heard the words leaving him as the idea entered his head. Maybe it was his way of saying he didn’t have to be naked with her or even
looking forward
to getting naked with her to want to
be
with her.

So they’d gotten up, put on clothes, and made pancakes in the middle of the night—both for old times’ sake and because they’d worked up an appetite. After plopping them on plates with some butter and syrup, they’d grabbed forks and headed out to the two big Adirondack chairs in Joe’s backyard. He planned to build a deck onto the house one of these days, but for now, the chairs sat under a sprawling maple that he’d climbed as a boy and watched turn orange every fall.

They’d sat soaking in the scents and sounds of a late summer night—she’d tossed on one of his sweatshirts to ward off the cool air—and they had, just as he’d promised, talked all night long.

They talked about her parents, her concerns for their future as they aged. And she caught him off guard by telling him that her dad’s new contentment concerning Joe had somehow silently mended a long rift between them, something that had seemed to hang over them ever since Trish had left for college.

She told him how much she’d enjoyed renovating the diner, and admitted that her attachment to the place had grown as she’d put so much work into it, so much color and creativity that she hadn’t quite realized lurked inside her.

She confided in him about her job, both the good parts and the bad—the success and the heartache, the sense of achievement versus the long hours. She even admitted she was tempted to adopt one of his kittens, because she could use the company—but she feared the cat would end up lonely.

“Never know,” Joe told her. “Maybe it’s like having a kid. Maybe you’ll
make
the time when you have to, because you’ll know little Pepper is depending on you.”

She flashed a suspicious smile in reply. “You’re just trying to unload a cat.”

He shrugged and grinned, caught in the act—but then
he
proceeded to tell
her
lots of stuff, too.

He talked about Carissa—about how seeing her in that dress had made him realize, all in one moment, that she was growing up, and that he couldn’t protect her forever. He talked about Jana and this wedding, this guy he didn’t know. He told her he wasn’t looking forward to seeing his dad on Saturday, even though it had been almost three years since the last time. And hell, he
almost
told her about the night his mom died. But then he shut up, because he had no idea where the hell all this was coming from anyway—he’d never dredged up so much honesty for anyone in his life. And as for his mom, he just didn’t want to go there.

No, he just wanted to hold Trish’s hand, their arms stretched out between the white chairs, and enjoy the night with her. At some point, she left her chair and cuddled into his lap, twining her arms around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder as he told her about the only other time he’d stayed up all night talking with somebody—old Mr. Shermer, on the night they’d made the deal on the garage.

“It was sorta like this,” he said. “Late summer, pretty night, and just shootin’ the breeze so easy we forgot about the time.”

Before Joe knew it, a pinkish glow rimmed the horizon to the east, and it started to spread, the sky growing paler, lighter, and he said, “Look, cupcake. Sun’s rising.”

She peered out toward the dimly lit dawn. “I haven’t seen a sunrise in forever.”

“Guess it’s just not a thing you do in the city,” he mused.

She shook her head. “Not that I did it much in the country, either,” she laughed, “but
never
in the city.”

And they stayed quiet as the sky transformed, and Joe felt the newness, that passage into a fresh day, felt as if he knew what it was to sit and feel the world spin with her, like the two of them were the only people on the planet watching the morning begin.