Mixing Temptation Page 11

  The past is best left alone. Better to move on.

  He’d learned that lesson over and over. When his mother left without looking back, when an accident stole weeks of his life, literally wiping them from his memory. Yeah, he knew better than to look back.

  Plus, he’d witnessed his brothers’ struggles on their way to love. Chad had been up front with him after Josh’s breakup with Megan.

  I let my abandonment issues hold me back when I fell in love with Lena.

  And Josh had laughed until his sides hurt. He’d wished he’d recorded his brother, the former town playboy, talking about his feelings. But when he told Chad to repeat himself word for word so that he could capture his statement, his older brother had threatened to kick his ass.

  Just don’t fall into that trap.

  That was Chad’s final bit of advice. And it had taken Josh a while to receive the message, but he’d finally made the call. Time to get serious and settle down. Only he didn’t share his brother’s ‘issues.’ His mother was part of the past. He didn’t linger on the memory.

  But he knew it wasn’t that easy for Caroline to let go. Maybe tomorrow’s trip down memory lane would help. Maybe it would sever the connection. Or maybe her ‘issues’ were too big.

  No escape.

  Josh closed his eyes. He knew what he wanted. A fourth date. Caroline in his bed—­or hell, the front seat of his truck. But he didn’t want to be her escape. He wanted to be her home—­her second chance at a future that wasn’t marked by fear and failure.

  And I wouldn’t turn down another massage. . .

  His body responded to the memory. But he didn’t reach beneath the sleeping bag to ease the ache. That was one feeling he wanted to linger, ready and waiting to play out their mutual fantasy.

  “PLANNING TO CHANGE into your costume on the road?” Josh held out a steaming cup of coffee. He’d woken early and fought his way through the hotel’s convention crowd to secure two cups of joe and a box of pastries for the road.

  “I didn’t want to run the risk you would be distracted while driving.” Caroline accepted the cup and climbed into the passenger side of the truck. Settling her backpack at her feet, she opened the pastry box and peered in. Then she selected the jelly doughnut.

  “Too late for that,” he said as he buckled into the driver’s side. “My imagination is already running wild with images of those kick-­ass boots.”

  With her free hand, she picked his cell up from the center console. “I’ll pull up the directions while you daydream about Wonder Woman.”

  “She always was my favorite,” he admitted. “Chad preferred Catwoman, but I liked to stick with the good guys—­and girls. Plus, with Wonder Woman, what you see is what you get. Catwoman always had a trick up her sleeve.”

  “You know that Wonder Woman was really an Amazon princess right? And she had a third identity she used for her day job,” she murmured. He stole a quick glance at her and saw her attention still focused on his phone.

  “A lot of ­people behave one way at work and another at home,” he said. “I’m not too crazy about the cat villain’s whip.”

  “Oh really?” And he recognized the playful note in her voice. “You don’t have a secret desire for a spanking?” she added.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her set the phone on the dash with a hint of a smile on her lips. “No. But Wonder Woman’s golden lasso might be fun.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” she murmured. “Take a right up ahead and then merge onto Highway 101.”

  “Are you going to fill me in on the plan or should I just change into my special spandex outfit when we get there and follow your lead?” he asked.

  “Which one did you bring?” she asked.

  “Superman. But I tossed in my Batman outfit at the last minute just in case you have a thing for super wealthy men out to save the world.” He waggled his eyebrows but kept his gaze fixed on the road.

  “I’m not into heroes.” The outside of her hand brushed his thigh as she reached for her coffee cup. She lingered for a second before picking up her cup. “You can keep your jeans on.”

  “You can save yourself?”

  “I do my best,” she said firmly.

  He shook his head. And to think he’d questioned her strength last night. “All right, but I’m still coming with you today. So how about filling me in?”

  She inhaled, sucking the air through her teeth. “I want to drive by Dustin’s house,” she said finally. “He lives outside Eureka, not far off this highway. Just stay on this road.”

  “Are you still keeping tabs on him?” He stole a quick glance in her direction. Through the passenger side window, he could still see the ocean crashing against the coastline.

  “Remember that private investigator Noah hired last year? Back when he thought Dustin was after us?”

  Josh nodded. He’d spent a number of long nights hiking through the woods near Noah’s house and searching for the bastard. Hell, he’d been shot at by the man after Josie. And at the time, he’d thought it was Dustin. Though Josh didn’t like to spend too much time pondering his second close encounter with a potentially life-­ending event.

  “The PI sent us Dustin’s address after his wife kicked him out. She’d moved off base during the trial. And when he was found guilty of adultery . . .”

  He let out a growl that made it pretty damn clear what he thought about the fact that her rapist had been charged with freaking cheating instead of rape.

  “His ex-­wife wanted to be closer to family I guess. Either way, Dustin moved too. He stayed close enough to see his kids. And lucky me, I was hiding out with my sister. He knew enough about my background to hunt me down.”

  “And you think he’s still there?” Josh asked. “It’s been over a year since the PI located him.”

  “Some days I still think I see him hiding in the trees,” she admitted. “But I’m fairly certain that’s my fear acting up and playing tricks on me.”

  “You haven’t mentioned this,” he said. “Have you told Noah?”

  “He has enough on his plate. New baby. New wife. And I think we can both agree my paranoia has caused enough trouble for him.”

  “Caroline,” he said. “I doubt seeing Dustin, finding out where he is and what he’s doing, will erase those fears.”

  “We’ll find out.”

  He nodded.

  “I have a feeling he’s around here. I hate the man, but I know for a fact he loved his kids. Although his wife might still have a restraining order against him.”

  “Please tell me you’re not planning to approach him and talk to him.”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t think so. I mainly just want confirmation that he’s moved on and living his own life.”

  “So this is more of a recon mission?” he asked dryly. “We’ll sit in the truck with a box of doughnuts and stare through our binoculars?”

  “Disappointed?”

  Yes, I’d been looking forward to throwing a few punches at the man who hurt you. I wanted to kick his ass for not understanding that one simple fucking word—­‘no.’ And I’d hoped he’d give me a reason to break his damn nose for sending you into hiding.

  “Nah, I didn’t want to spend our fourth date in jail. I was hoping to finish my Magic Mike dance. It might get awkward if we’re sharing a holding cell with the local drunks. Plus, I agreed to let you pick the spot.”

  “I had something in mind.” She withdrew another powdered pastry from the box. “Of course now I need to find a golden lasso. And that might prove challenging.”

  “Did I forget to mention my number one rule?” He shifted in his seat as his lower half took a sincere interest in the conversation that had, thank freaking goodness, moved away from Dustin the Asshole. Talking about boots and superhero sex toys turned him on instead of leaving him it
ching for a fight.

  But the chances of making love to Caroline tonight, after she saw once and for all that her past was sitting on his ass in Bumblefuck, California, might be slim. He should probably resign himself to a long drive with a hard-­on for company.

  “What rule?” she asked.

  “No bondage until the sixth date.” He added a hint of mock regret to his voice. “And I know you’re a stickler for the dating rules.”

  “I am.”

  She sounded so damn serious that he took his eyes off the highway for a second to make sure she was smiling. But her full lips and big green eyes didn’t give anything away.

  “So I should probably ask if you have any restrictions on black lace on the fourth date,” she said. “You see, I ordered this pair of panties online back when I first asked you out.”

  His grip tightened on the wheel. Make that two of them who’d had enough talk about the effects of her past.

  “You’re wearing them now?” he demanded.

  “Yes.”

  Blood rushed south. He never let desire rule him. Not with Caroline. But damn it, he felt primed to explode. He wanted to touch her, kiss her, and make her his right here on the highway just from thinking about her underwear.

  He couldn’t. But that didn’t stop him from hitting the brake and steering onto the shoulder. He threw the truck in park and turned to her. “Are you playing some sort of game designed—­”

  “No games.” Her fingers reached for the button at the top of her cargo pants. She lowered the zipper an inch and slipped her right hand inside. He followed her movements.

  Don’t tell me we waited a year and now we’re going to lose control and play show-­and-­tell on the side of the road.

  He could refuse to join in. But as soon as she drew a thin strip of black lace into view, he decided to let her make the call.

  “Do you like them?” she asked.

  And how she managed the question without a hint of coy come-­and-­get-­me in her voice . . . hell, he didn’t know and he didn’t care.

  “Caroline, I fucking love your panties.”

  And I’m falling in love with you.

  He’d known it since Noah and Josie’s wedding. What he felt for her was so damn real and right. And yeah, it was part of why he’d followed her on a rescue mission road trip. Why he couldn’t risk another look at her underwear until he was damn sure she wanted him, not an escape from her fears. Just him—­beneath her, inside her, on top of her, behind her . . .

  I’m going to lose my mind on the side of the road.

  “You sure chose one helluva day to debut those undies,” he said, returning his gaze to her face. Those big green eyes, that heart-­shaped face—­she looked so damn innocent.

  This is the wood nymph side. He’d seen a lot of her G.I. Jane, ready-­to-­kick-­some-­serious-­butt side lately. But she wasn’t all hard lines and rough edges.

  “Sure you don’t want to change our plans for the day and drive back to the cottage?” he asked.

  “I can’t do that.” She zipped up her pants. “Just remember all the reasons we don’t want to end up in a jail cell, OK?”

  “Caroline, for the rest of the day, your panties will be front and center in my mind. And I promise that if I start thinking about throwing a punch or two, I’ll take a deep breath, close my eyes, and imagine sinking to my knees and running my hands up your bare thighs to that slip of black lace—­”

  “Please.”

  He pressed his lips together. She wasn’t begging. No, she’d offered the plea like a command.

  “If you plant one more tempting image in my mind, I’ll ask you to stop the car,” she said. “But I can’t stay here. I need to keep going.”

  “I know.” His right hand released the wheel and reached for hers. He touched her fingers before grabbing hold of her hand. “I swear I won’t say another dirty word until you’re ready.”

  Chapter 12

  CAROLINE FOCUSED ON the changing scenery outside the window. They’d parted ways with the Pacific Ocean not long after they’d crossed over the Oregon-­California line. The trees loomed larger and more imposing as they headed closer to Eureka. Picturesque towns continued to dot the windy road, but she’d stopped noting the names.

  I don’t feel like Wonder Woman anymore.

  She’d abandoned turned on hours ago, not long after Josh steered the car back onto the road. And she’d tossed empowered and sexy out the window after California’s famous redwoods replaced the Douglas firs. The reality of what she was doing, driving closer and closer to a man who might be waiting to hurt her . . .

  Logic—­and a detailed private investigator’s report—­told her that Dustin had never tried to hunt her down after that one threatening visit to her sister’s home. She doubted he’d let go of his anger. And she still woke up wishing he were in a jail cell instead of roaming free. But he hadn’t contacted her sister or her again.

  Still, I’m here. In California. On his turf. . .

  If he saw her, he might come after her. But if he did, she’d kick his ass. She would put an end to this. She wasn’t powerless. She was no longer under his command. And she didn’t answer to him.

  Of course a fight could land her in jail. And a run-­in with the local law enforcement would lead to a stint in a military prison for her. Not exactly her ideal location for a fourth date.

  “We’re getting close to the exit,” Josh said.

  “Ready to stretch your legs?” she asked.

  He’d been behind the wheel since they left the cottage this morning. She glanced at the dashboard clock.

  Only two hours had slipped by? Anxiety was like a time warp, drawing out each minute, making the seconds feel like ticking time bombs.

  “I thought this was just a drive-­by,” he said as he shifted into the right lane and veered off the scenic highway.

  “You can stand beside the car and eat your doughnuts,” she murmured as the muscles in her shoulders formed tight knots. The memory of Josh’s massage, the feel of his hands working to ease her body’s determination to stand guard, her need to be ready to fight or flee . . . that memory flew away.

  They drove in silence listening as the strange female voice from Josh’s cell phone guided them through California suburbs.

  “Arrived at your destination,” the phone announced.

  “Thanks, Siri,” Josh muttered as he pulled into the parking lot beside a two-­story apartment building.

  “He’s in unit 1B. First floor.” After reading it over and over, searching for a clue, she’d memorized the investigator’s report. She reached for the truck door. “Let’s go take a look.”

  “Hold up a minute.” Josh placed his hand on her arm. “I don’t think this is a good idea. We can’t just walk by the guy’s home and peek in his windows.”

  She leaned forward and withdrew a battered Seattle Seahawks baseball cap from her backpack. “I borrowed it from Noah’s dad,” she explained as she pulled her ponytail through the back of the hat.

  Josh raised an eyebrow. “We need to work on your superhero disguises.”

  “Most ­people only see what they’re expecting to see,” she said. “And I doubt Dustin’s been looking over his shoulder, wondering if I’m waiting outside his window. As much as I wanted to, I never threatened his safety. And believe me, there were nights when we were deployed that I wanted sneak into his bunk and hold a knife to his . . .” She stole a glance at Josh. “Well, not his throat.”

  “Caroline, I’ve wanted to threaten this asshole with the blade of a knife since I met you. And I’m being completely honest when I say that I’ve never had an interest in touching another man’s junk.” He cocked his head. “What stopped you?”

  She shrugged. “He was bigger and stronger. He’d overpowered me before and I knew he could do it again. Also, he’d trained i
n hand-­to-­hand combat and he slept in a room filled with men who would have taken his side.”

  “I would have taken yours,” he said, leveling her with a hard, fierce look. “I am on your side. You know that, right?”

  She nodded.

  “I want to hurt this asshole. But I have a personal interest in keeping you out of jail,” he continued. “So I have to ask. Where’s your gun, honey?”

  “Locked in its case,” she said with a regretful sigh. “And tucked in my pack. I thought it would be too tempting.”

  “Let’s keep it there,” he said. “Now I’m ready for a walk by if you are.”

  The steps bled together—­getting out of the truck, taking his hand, and walking up the sidewalk—­and she focused on the rush of adrenaline. She refused to acknowledge the fear. It had been the same when she’d driven a truck down a road potentially lined with IEDs in the Middle East. Focus on the rush of energy. Hone in on the mission.

  They walked up the cement path leading to the front of the pale yellow building. Steps from the strangely pleasant looking structure, the path divided, leading to two separate ground level units. Stairs ran up both sides providing access to the second story.

  A brown cardboard box stood in front of the door on the right. Caroline stopped and stared at it.

  Just a box. Not a threat.

  The door to the unit on the left swung open and she turned her attention to their destination—­unit 1B. But the young blonde in the doorway wasn’t her target.

  “Hi there,” the blonde called as she shifted a toddler clutching a stuffed penguin to her other hip. “If you’re looking for Angela, she moved out last week. Her mom’s ill so she picked up and went home to San Diego. But I’m forwarding her mail if you want me to tell her that you stopped by.”

  “Hello,” Josh said, firing up his charm. He grinned at the woman in the doorway before turning his smile to the shy child in her arms. “I’m Brody.”

  Oh really? she thought.