Trust in Me (9 page)

The slow and steady beat of his heart thudded under her clutching hands, reaffirming his promise. Her heart answered with a hard
ka-thump
. She sensed that Kevin's promise was something she could hold onto, something steady and true. But hadn't she been wrong about Blaine?

Claire cleared the choking tension from her throat. "I'm ready."

Given her go-ahead, Kevin gunned the engine, and they drove from the parking lot onto the dark street. The humid summer air rushed up to greet them, bringing the sweet fragrance of cut grass and honeysuckle. She clung to Kevin's chest, hiding her eyes on his shoulder, mentally counting off the blocks to Mrs. Proctor's house. After a moment to acclimate herself, though, Claire lifted her head to watch where they were going. Wind buffeted her face and teased her senses. Though she knew Kevin held back on her account, even their moderate speed gave her an unexpected thrill like the exhilaration she'd known when she'd braved the roller coaster at Six Flags.

Slowly her trepidation eased into an enthusiasm for the new experience. Her grip on Kevin's shirt loosened, and she flattened her hands against his chest. As Kevin steered them around a corner, the play of muscles under her fingers guided her focus to the hard body she snuggled against. Crushed against his back, her breasts tingled with an awareness of the intimate contact. Her thighs gripped his more tightly, and her hands took free rein to explore the contours of his taut chest. With the motorcycle rumbling beneath her and images of Kevin's bare torso still dancing through her mind, her position toyed with her imagination. Having her body closely aligned with his became a sensual feast, and every nerve in her body hummed expectantly. The exhilarating ride and the thrill of holding Kevin close merged, mingled, a heady combination of man and machine.

The ride ended too soon. When he rolled to a stop in front of Mrs. Proctor's house, Claire reluctantly released Kevin and removed the helmet.

He slid off the bike first then offered her a smile and his hand to help her dismount. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

She took his hand and held his gaze. "Not bad at all. Next time, you can even go faster."

His smile faltered. "Next time?"

"I don't have any other ride to the store in the morning." She swung her leg off, a little more gracefully than she she'd climbed on, but she still stumbled before finding her balance.

Kevin grabbed her elbow to steady her, and when she glanced up to thank him, his eyes lit like sparklers on Independence Day. A piercing heat sluiced through her, and she leaned toward him, as if drawn by some magnetic pull. At that moment she wanted to kiss Kevin more than she wanted her next breath. Every morsel of residual excitement from the ride coalesced in her chest, kicking her heart into an eager cadence. She moistened her lips, and his gaze zeroed in on her mouth. He angled his head, moved closer.

She just wanted a quick kiss goodnight. Just a taste of Kevin to satisfy her curiosity and put her fanciful daydreams to rest. Just a brief touch—

But before their lips met, Mrs. Proctor's porch light snapped on, and, blinking against the glare, Kevin jerked back from her as if scorched. Disappointment brought her buzz of expectation to a screeching halt.

Kevin waved at the old woman who stepped out on the front stoop then swung his leg over his motorcycle. He reached for the helmet Claire still clutched, and she passed it to him. His hasty retreat pricked her confidence. Had she misread the look in his eyes? Maybe kissing her was the last thing on his mind.

"I'll...uh, be by around eight to get you in the morning. Okay?" His voice sounded thick and unsteady. And was it her imagination or was he having an unusual amount of trouble fastening his chin strap?

"I'll be ready."

He nodded, flashed a quick smile and took off into the night before she could whisper, "Goodnight, Kevin."

She stood at the curb, watching the red taillight fade in the distance. A baffling tangle of emotions spun through her. Despite the muggy night, a chill raced over her skin, and she rubbed the tingle on her arms.

Surely she wasn't foolish enough to confuse a shot of adrenaline from the motorcycle ride with romantic feelings for her boss? Falling for Kevin at this point in her life would be crazy. She needed to concentrate on establishing her freedom and becoming self-reliant, not growing attached to a man who seemed to have appointed himself her personal white knight, always riding to her rescue. She was no damsel in distress, would not become dependent on a man for anything.

And yet...her skin still burned from riding pressed closed to him, as if branded with an impression of his body.

"Well, are you coming in or not? The mosquitoes are starting to bite me."

Mrs. Proctor's chiding cut through her reverie, and Claire headed up the driveway, wondering what the old woman must have thought of finding her tenant in Kevin's arms. If Mrs. Proctor hadn't come out when she did, would Kevin have kissed her?

Claire sighed and climbed the porch steps. She guessed she'd never know.

***

Thank God Mrs. Proctor had come out when she did. Otherwise, he probably would have kissed Claire. Probably nothing. He'd been a fraction of a second away from making a huge mistake, all for the sake of one kiss from Claire. But one kiss from Claire could never be enough, and he couldn't justify tormenting himself with a physical relationship when he knew nothing more could ever come of it. It wouldn't be fair to mislead Claire into thinking he could give her more than good intentions. She deserved so much more, so much better than he had to offer.

He steered his Harley toward home, trying not to think about how sweet her body had felt hugging his. For a few precious moments, Claire had been pressed against him from knee to chin, her hands splayed on his chest. The experience had been more erotic than making love to Robin ever had been. That alone should tell him how dangerous getting involved with Claire would be. His heart could never survive an encounter with Claire's potent effect on him.

And he'd promised to take her to work in the morning.
Cripes.

A cold sweat beaded on his forehead in anticipation of another rendezvous with Claire's thighs clamped around his, her breasts nestled against his back and her fingers clutching his chest. If he were a sane man, he'd call Lydia and beg her to pick Claire up for him and spare himself the sweet torture. But he obviously had lost his mind, because he wanted those few minutes of delicious agony more than anything.

Ribbit
.

"Shut up," he told the frog as he parked his bike by his trailer. "I know what I'm doing. I stopped myself before I kissed her tonight, didn't I?" Barely. But it was a victory of sorts. A test of his resolve that he'd passed unscathed.

Mutt appeared from under the trailer and yapped a greeting.

Kevin scratched the dog’s ears, and scoffed. "There's a reason you don't see the frog kissing the princess in all those fairytales. It's all wrong. The Brothers Grimm knew that and so do I." Mutt whined and flopped in the dirt at Kevin's feet. "Yeah, I know, boy. I wish things were different too. Someday, they will be. Once I get my degree and a better job..."

But by then Claire would be a distant memory. Before long she'd likely grow bored with her adventure on the wrong side of the tracks and would go back to her affluent lifestyle and to men who could buy her BMWs and manicured fingernails.

He grinned as he walked inside, remembering the way Claire had chopped off her nails today. She had grit. He’d give her that. Her willingness to sacrifice her nails for her mission to prove herself had surprised and impressed him.

When he considered what he'd given up, continued to give up, in order to get what and where he wanted to be, he wondered if he and Claire might not be so different.

That idea disappeared in a
poof
of white smoke the next day when he saw Claire return from her lunch break driving a white VW Beetle. He met her in the parking lot, shaking his head.

"What happened to the BMW?"

"I did what you said and got a new car. Traded the BMW for this." She waved a hand toward her Bug. "You like it?"

"Well, sure. But I didn't tell you to get a new car."

"Sure you did. You said if the old one was unreliable to get a new one, so I wouldn't get stranded."

Kevin rubbed his forehead. "I meant replace the
battery
. Not the whole car!" He couldn't even imagine having the resources to change vehicles on a whim. Proof positive that they came from different worlds, with different rules and greatly divergent ways of looking at life. Claire's money allowed her to buy solutions to her troubles, while the lack of money was the root of his problems.

"Doesn't matter really." Claire tossed her hair over her shoulder and flashed him a proud smile that did funny things to his heart. "This Beetle is about doing what I wanted. It's my car. What
I
want. My declaration of independence."

The self-satisfaction that glowed on her face burrowed deep inside him, uprooting a few more of his conceptions about the debutante who'd walked into his office just over a week ago.

A battered blue pickup truck bounced into the parking lot and stopped next to Claire's Bug. Bud Renfro climbed out and headed straight for Claire. The man's stiff walk and clenched fists alerted Kevin to the peach farmer's bad mood.

"You!" He jabbed a finger toward Claire, and she turned toward the man, her smile fading when she met his grim expression.

"Can I do something for you, sir?" The confidence Kevin had heard in her voice moments ago was gone. The woman confronting the angry farmer was duly intimidated.

"I think you've done enough!"

C
HAPTER
F
IVE

"My wife says you cheated her out of thirty dollars the other day," the bulky man railed at Claire. "Thirty dollars I busted my hump for, mind you. We don't take kindly to strangers coming to town to swindle us outta our hard earned money!"

Claire's face drained of color. "I— I'm sorry. I—"

"Take it easy, Bud. Claire didn't mean to short change Brenda. I called and left a message on her voicemail as soon as we discovered the error. In fact, we have your money set aside in the office if you want to follow me inside."

Claire's gaze darted toward Kevin, and she shook her head. "Kevin, don't...I asked you not to do that."

"Not do what?" Renfro barked. "Not give my money back?"

Bud took a large step closer to Claire, and she trembled visibly in the shadow of the giant farmer.

"No...I—"

"Listen here, sister—" Bud stuck his finger in Claire's face, and Kevin bristled.

He grabbed Bud's hand and pulled it away from Claire's nose. "I'll get your money if you'll follow me. But leave Claire alone."

Bud's jaw tensed, and he rounded on Kevin. He planted a hand in Kevin's chest and shoved.

Kevin stumbled backward a couple steps, and Claire gasped.

"Back off, pretty boy. I don't cotton to folks messin' with me or cheatin' me."

In response to Bud's threatening gestures, Kevin dug deep in the well of patience and diplomacy he'd learned from his mother.
Violence solves nothing, Kevin
. Eventually he'd learned that for himself. The hard way.

"I'm not looking for trouble," Kevin said calmly. "We can make this right if you want to come inside and have a soda with me. Now as for Claire, she didn't mean to shortchange Brenda, and she's sorry."

Claire swung a sharp look at Kevin, fire leaping in her eyes. "Now you're apologizing for me? Kevin!" She faced Bud again with her palms raised. "I am sorry for the oversight, and I tried to catch your wife before she left..." She spun back to Kevin. "But I don't need you to speak for me! I'm a grown woman, and I can take care of myself!"

Her lower lip pouted just enough to test Kevin's willpower not to kiss the rebellious frown. The sparks shooting from her eyes enticed him, and this glimpse of the princess's temper intrigued him.

Just as quickly as she'd lost control, she drew the curtain of poise and civility around herself again, presenting the practiced politeness that had obviously been bred into her from birth. She flexed her fingers and took a deep breath, lifting her chin as she spoke to Bud again. "I apologize for any inconvenience I caused. I have no excuse other than allowing myself to be distracted by your precious daughter. Amber, right?"

Bud rolled his shoulders and nodded. "Yeah, Amber." The moment Claire mentioned Bud's little girl, the farmer's mood mellowed. Amazing. Claire had known the right cards to play without his help. Kevin smiled and shook his head
. Bravo, Princess.

A strange hollowness filled Kevin as he led Bud inside to retrieve his overdue money. Claire didn't need his help, didn't want his help. One more reminder he had nothing to offer a woman who already had everything.

***

Claire held a scrubbing brush like a lance and regarded her foe with a measuring scrutiny. Given her inexperience in such matters, the toilet in the men's room seemed as daunting as a fire-breathing dragon. But she was not one to let an inanimate object, no matter how dirty or intimidating, best her. Already today she'd faced the wrath of Bud Renfro, however ineloquently, and survived. How difficult could conquering a commode be?

She owed Kevin her thanks for his assistance with Mr. Renfro, even if it wasn't the assistance he thought he was giving her. Kevin's intercession had provoked her temper, shaking her from the retreat she'd been making. His tact and conciliatory approach to the belligerent man had been admirable, but she'd wanted to test her new confidence, draw on the strength she found when she broke her last tie with her father. Kevin's courage and discretion had challenged her, encouraged her to stand up to her opponent and meet his blustering with diplomacy.

The more she saw Kevin in action, the more she respected his people skills, his integrity and kindness.

Squaring her shoulders, Claire faced her new challenge, raised her scrubbing brush and lunged.
Take that, dragon
!