Baby, Don't Go Read online

  Alicia glared. “Will you please turn around so I can pull up my pants?”

  His mouth twitched. “A little late for modesty, don’t you think?”

  “Turn. Around.”

  Biting back a smile, he turned around.

  Alicia stood and yanked up her panties and running shorts, mortified. How did she keep getting in compromising positions with this man?

  “Okay, you can turn around.”

  He turned and scanned her head to toe. She tingled with the knowledge that he’d gotten an unedited view of her nether regions and, crazily, wondered if he’d made an assessment of her assets.

  His shirt was unbuttoned, hanging open to reveal the muscled chest and stomach she’d fondled on the ride there. Her mouth watered. To redirect her attention, she gestured to the handgun he held down to his side. “Do you carry one of those everywhere?”

  “I typically have a gun within reach,” he drawled.

  “I don’t like guns.”

  “Neither do I. But they come in handy sometimes.”

  She bit her lip, thinking of his background report, his Marine Corps history, his war honors. This man had probably shot himself out of places too horrible for her to imagine. Admiration and gratitude swelled her heart.

  Attraction made her swell in other places.

  “I’m glad you didn’t have to use it this time,” she murmured. “That’s twice you saved me today.”

  “We won’t count this one,” he said. “But lady, you do have a penchant for getting into trouble.”

  She opened her mouth to say she was an extremely competent woman—all of her friends and colleagues said so—then she clamped her mouth shut. She couldn’t tell him, of course. “I’m…out of my element.”

  “What is your element?”

  “Not this,” she said simply, gesturing to their untamed surroundings.

  He seemed to consider her, then nodded toward the four-wheeler. “Then I should probably take you back before something else bad happens.”

  His words sent a tug of longing to her midsection. Why did she have the feeling he was warning her that he posed as much danger to her well-being as a pool of water or an angry snake?

  He started walking and, not about to be left behind to confront more wild beasts, she fell in step with him. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry and she wondered if his back was still bothering him.

  Best not to ask, she decided.

  But when the iron gate to the graveyard came into view, she felt contrite. “I’m sorry. I said I didn’t want to intrude and that’s exactly what I did.”

  “I was wrapping up,” he said.

  “Is your father buried here?”

  He nodded.

  “And you come here often?”

  “Not as often as I should, but as often as I can.”

  “You must miss him.”

  “Every day.”

  His words were so genuine, they plucked at her heart. “Tell me about him.”

  He shrugged. “He wasn’t special or famous or rich. He worked hard and respected the land and loved his family. He left an impression.”

  “That’s nice,” she said, studying the laces of her running shoes as she walked. “My father lives a ten-minute cab ride from me, and I haven’t seen him in more than a year.”

  “Cab ride? Your father lives around here?”

  With a start, Alicia realized she’d almost blown her cover. “Lived,” she corrected. “When I was up north.”

  “You and your father don’t get along?”

  “We get along fine,” she said, monitoring her words. “On the rare occasions we see each other, we’re perfectly polite and pleasant to each other.”

  “My dad always said if two people don’t argue once in a while, one person in the relationship is useless.”

  She smiled. “It sounds like he was a wise man.”

  “He was. How old were you when your folks split?”

  “Eight,” she said. “Dad tried to stay involved in my life, but then he remarried and…well, he got busy.”

  He nodded as if he understood, but she could tell he didn’t. “Do you at least get along with your stepmother?”

  “Which one?” she said with a little laugh. “In any case, I’m about to get a new stepmother in a few weeks. This one’s younger than I am.”

  “How about your mother?”

  “She’s currently living with a man half her age who treats her badly.”

  He shook his head. “No wonder you don’t want to get married.”

  She smiled. “So what’s your excuse?”

  He was silent for so long, she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then he exhaled noisily. “The exact opposite, I guess. My parents were so happy, so perfect for each other. I decided a long time ago I’m not going to settle.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Wow, that’s pressure—or a cop-out.”

  He frowned. “Cop-out?”

  They had reached the four-wheeler. “Sure,” she said lightly. “You set your standards so high, no woman will ever meet them, so she gets written off before you give her a chance.”

  He lifted the seat and stowed the handgun, then lowered the seat. “You don’t know me,” he said evenly.

  “Does anyone?” she challenged.

  A muscle worked in his jaw. “Time to go.”

  It dawned on her that his suggestion that they leave before anything else bad happened was to protect himself. She stepped closer to goad him. “I think what I heard about you is true—that you don’t like women.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” he said.

  She moved forward, into his personal space, and lifted her mouth so close that her lips scraped against his when she whispered, “Prove it.”

  A heartbeat passed, then another…and then his mouth claimed hers with such intensity that it took her breath away.

  He plied her with his tongue until her mouth opened for him to explore. Then he curled his hand around the nape of her neck to slant his mouth against hers harder…and to stab his tongue deeper.

  Her senses reeled. She’d never been kissed like this before.

  She lifted her hands to splay against his bare chest, skimming her hands over the smooth, corded muscle. She wanted to touch him everywhere.

  He slid his hand down to her waist and pulled her body against his. Her nipples budded and her thighs quickened at the hardened proof of his own need pressing against her stomach. Her body was on fire.

  And still the kiss went on…he pillaged her mouth, then soothed it with sweet moans that vibrated down to her womb. When she needed breath, he gave her his, filling her lungs. And when her knees threatened to give way, he supported her body, pulling her closer.

  At last he lifted his mouth from hers. His dark blue eyes were hooded, his expression defiant. She was laboring to breathe and she was positively weak. Her lips were swollen, and her erogenous zones were still pinging.

  “You’ve been misinformed,” he said, his voice raspy.

  He released her and turned to swing a leg over to straddle the seat of the ATV. He checked gauges, then started the engine and looked over his shoulder. “Are you coming?”

  Alicia opened her thoroughly kissed mouth, but could only nod.

  The ride back to town was tense. She could feel the strain in the muscles of his stomach, in the way he held his back erect. She was tense, too, trying to hold herself away from him. But every bump in the road and every swerve had their bodies shifting and brushing against each other. By the time he pulled to a stop in front of the boardinghouse, she was practically panting.

  She loosened her grip on his waist and gingerly climbed off the four-wheeler. “See you in the morning,” she said. “Thanks again for…everything.”

  He lifted his hand in a half wave and pulled away, his unbuttoned shirt flapping behind him.

  “Nice.”

  Alicia turned and saw Rachel Hutchins standing there, holding a leash. At the other end of the leash was a dark-faced p
ug so ugly he was cute.

  “Pardon me?” Alicia said, reaching down to give the pug’s head a scratch.

  “You and Marcus,” Rachel said. “Everyone thought he was an impenetrable wall of rock, but you seem to have gotten through.”

  “He just gave me a ride home,” Alicia said. “I ran too far in this heat.”

  “Whatever you say,” Rachel said in a sing-songy voice.

  Alicia just smiled and went up to her room. But when she got there, she saw why the woman had jumped to conclusions. Between the spill she’d taken in the creek and the wind-blown ride on the ATV and Marcus’s grinding kiss, Alicia looked as if she’d been… What was the saying? Ridden hard and put up wet.

  She stripped to take a shower, but while standing under the spray her mind wandered back to the kiss. Her breasts were heavy and taut, and she could still feel the imprint of his fingers everywhere he’d touched her.

  The man could kiss.

  She fantasized about where that kiss might’ve led until icy-cold needles stabbed her skin. She reluctantly climbed out and toweled off, then booted up her laptop to make notes on the morning’s worship service, her near-drowning, the close encounter with the “rattler” and her even closer encounter with Marcus Armstrong. She had enough material to write several blog entries later.

  Her empty stomach sent her walking to the school to the barbecue Nikki had invited her to. It was a big community picnic, with blankets on the ground and music and horseshoe pits and smoking grills. Everyone looked as if they were having a hootin’ good time. Alicia stood there for a few minutes observing the interaction, feeling utterly lost in the alien environment.

  Nikki Salinger stood and waved her over to where the Armstrongs occupied a patch of ground. Alicia said hellos all around, once again feeling out of place.

  Porter gave her a wry smile. “I invited Marcus to join us, but he said he had other plans.”

  Alicia sipped from a cup of tea so sweet it made her teeth hurt. “Yes, I took a run down to the bridge earlier and saw him fishing.” She gave a rueful laugh. “Actually, I fell in the water and he kind of saved me.”

  “You don’t say?” Porter said, shooting a look at Kendall.

  “Then he showed me where you’re building your homes.”

  The men exchanged another glance. “Marcus took you to Clover Ridge?” Kendall asked.

  “Yes. He showed me where you grew up and then he visited your father’s grave.”

  The men looked at each other again.

  “Is something wrong?” Alicia asked.

  “No,” Porter said hastily.

  “Not at all,” Kendall added quickly.

  “So what’s your brother’s story?” she asked the men. “He seems to be a bit of a lone wolf.”

  Kendall laughed. “That’s an understatement.”

  “Marcus is too busy taking care of everyone else to see to his own happiness,” Porter said.

  “He’s under a lot of pressure,” Kendall added. “We hope he can relax after the federal deadline, slow down a little and smell the roses.”

  “He’s a good man,” Porter said, “but he can be a bit of a bear to live with.”

  Alicia smiled. “He told me he didn’t want to run the ad in the newspaper to bring women here.”

  “He didn’t,” Porter confirmed. “But our workers were on the verge of mutiny, so Kendall and I convinced Marcus we needed to do something drastic.”

  “And have things worked out the way you’d hoped?” she asked.

  Porter glanced at Nikki, who stood a few feet away examining a teddy bear covered with colorful adhesive bandages for a concerned-looking little girl. “Better than I could’ve imagined.”

  Kendall glanced over to where Amy sat on a blanket with Tony. The boy said something and she ruffled his hair playfully. “Me, too,” he said.

  Something akin to envy stirred in Alicia’s stomach. “So am I missing something?” Alicia asked. “Why is no one here married?”

  Porter blanched. “I need to go see about…something.” He turned on his heel and walked away.

  Kendall gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry, marriage is a touchy subject.”

  Tony came up to pull his father away for a game of horseshoes. Alicia made small talk with Nikki and complimented Amy on the covered bridge, then decided to mingle and try to find other women who’d made the trip from Broadway so she could collect more stories. The spicy, greasy meat being served wasn’t her favorite fare, but she made a meal out of fresh vegetables and managed to identify more women for her blog.

  From the looks of things, many couples had been established, but there was an innocence about the atmosphere that smacked of a middle-school prom. There was some hand-holding and a few quick kisses, but no blatant public displays of affection, and no drunkenness.

  It was all very…chaste.

  And very traditional, she noted. The women seemed to be cooking and waiting on the men while the guys ate and played games. Even Dr. Salinger and Amy Bradshaw, both accomplished professionals, appeared to dote on their men.

  In fact, the longer Alicia stayed, the more evident it became that the gender roles here seemed to be stuck in the 1950s. It piqued her ire to see someone like Rachel Hutchins, who subscribed to Feminine Power, carry a plate of food to her good-looking scientist boyfriend who, as far as Alicia could tell, had two perfectly good legs of his own.

  Alicia’s blood pressure ballooned. She would never put herself in a subservient role to a man.

  Her lips tingled. No matter how good a kisser he was.

  She slipped away from the gathering feeling sorry for the women of Sweetness. By coming here for the sole purpose of finding a mate, they’d given up any leverage they might’ve had in the relationship. They were repeating their mother’s mistakes, setting women back decades.

  And she intended to expose their folly for the sake of women everywhere.

  15

  “Missed you at the barbecue yesterday,” Porter said over his coffee cup.

  “It was a nice turnout,” Kendall added.

  Marcus dragged his gaze away from Alicia at the grill back to his brothers sitting opposite him at a table in the diner. “I went fishing.”

  “Catch anything?” Porter asked.

  “As a matter of fact, I caught a keeper.”

  “You don’t say?” Porter asked, his mouth quirking. “Tasty, was it?”

  Marcus frowned. “I tossed it back.”

  “That’s not like you,” Kendall said, smothering a smile. “Did something more interesting come along?”

  He worked his mouth side to side. “Are you two idgets getting at something?”

  Porter shrugged. “We heard you, um, fished Alicia out of the creek.”

  Marcus tamped down annoyance. “The woman fell in and she can’t swim. I didn’t exactly have a choice.”

  “And then you took her to Clover Ridge to recover,” Kendall added with an arched eyebrow.

  He shifted in his seat—Christ, had she told them about the kiss, too? “She invited herself along.”

  “Guess you didn’t have a choice there either,” Porter said, shooting a glance toward Alicia, dressed in a short flowered skirt, T-shirt and high-heeled sandals. “She seems like such a bully.”

  “My impression exactly,” Kendall seconded, nodding.

  Marcus bit down on his cheek. “Could we get back to our meeting?”

  Porter sipped from his cup. “You’re the one who can’t stop looking at her, bro.”

  “I’m just making sure she’s not setting another fire,” he muttered, then nodded toward Tony who was bussing a table nearby. “Especially since my nephew now works here.”

  Kendall glanced at his preteen son, then back. “Speaking of which, from the way he keeps staring at Alicia, I think he’s developed a crush on her, too.”

  “Too?” Marcus laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

  “He’s talking about every guy
sitting at the counter,” Porter said, nodding to the crowded stools. Then he grinned. “And you.” Marcus harrumphed.

  “We’re just giving you a hard time,” Kendall said. “I think it’s great if you enjoy her company.”

  “I wouldn’t call it enjoyable,” he bit out.

  Porter grinned. “Even better.”

  He gave his little brother a lethal look. “How’s the church coming along?”

  Porter’s smile vanished. “The sections should be delivered the day after tomorrow.”

  “Have you decided when you’re going to propose to Nikki?” Kendall asked.

  Porter glanced to the table across the room where Nikki and Amy were having breakfast. “Not yet,” Porter said in a clipped tone.

  Marcus sighed. “Could we get through one conversation without talking about women?”

  “Sorry,” Kendall offered, although he looked anything but.

  “What about the minister who performed the Sunday service?” Marcus asked. “Is he interested in having his own church?”

  “Yes,” Porter said.

  “Well?”

  His brothers exchanged a glance.

  “What?” Marcus demanded.

  “Michael Mason is a great guy,” Kendall said. “And he really connected with the residents.”

  “But…he stutters,” Porter added.

  Marcus lifted his hands. “Okay…a little unexpected, but what does that have to do with anything?”

  Porter sighed. “We have to consider all of his duties as a minister. If you were getting married, would you want the person officiating to stutter through the ceremony?”

  Marcus frowned. “Since I’m not planning to get married, it doesn’t matter to me one way or another.”

  “Still, you can see the position it puts us in,” Kendall said. “Frankly, I suspect it’s why Mason doesn’t already have a church of his own.”

  “It sounds as if neither party is in a position to be choosy,” Marcus said. “Give the man a contract and let’s move on.” He looked down at the list in front of him. “Where do we stand on getting an ambulance for the clinic?”

  “We decided to strike it off the list,” Porter said.

  Marcus looked up. “What?”

  “Right,” Kendall added. “We’re just going to order a bunch of rolling desk chairs to have on hand for emergencies.”