stop pushing. At least for now. You know I care about you, right?”
“I do.” He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “You’ve always supported me.”
“I just want you to be happy. Men don’t do well alone. You need someone in your life. I think Charity needs someone, too. She hasn’t said anything, but if I had to guess, I would say she’s coming off a bad breakup. So she would understand.”
“About the divorce?”
Marsha nodded.
What his friend didn’t get was that the problem wasn’t his divorce. That was just a symptom of everything that had gone wrong.
The truth was, he’d enjoyed a lot about the theory of being married. He was basically a homebody. Angelique had wanted to go out more nights than not, but his best times with her had been spent with just the two of them. He wanted that again—a connection, the familiarity of knowing everything about someone. He’d always thought he would be just like everyone else, with a wife and a couple of kids.
But until he fixed what was wrong inside of him, until he was whole again, he couldn’t be with anyone. He wasn’t asking to rule the world, just be the man he’d been before.
“I’ll be quiet now,” Marsha told him.
“If only that were true.”
She laughed.
Josh felt his gaze slipping over Marsha’s shoulder, where he could see Charity speaking intently with Robert.
They looked like they belonged together, like they could be a couple. Charity would be better off with someone like Robert. A regular guy without a lot of baggage. Without the ghosts that kept him always searching for an answer he could never find.
THE REST OF CHARITY’S week flew by in a blur of meetings and planning. She’d managed to set up an initial conversation with a large hospital that was thinking of expanding. She was determined to convince them that Fool’s Gold was the best possible location for them.
By late Friday she was tired and oddly restless. She tried to watch television and when that didn’t work, she went downstairs where the hotel kept a small library of DVDs. None of them appealed. On a whim, Charity went back to her room, grabbed a green hoodie and headed outside.
It was a little after nine, dark and cool, but warmer than it had been. Spring had finally arrived, chasing away the last of the below-freezing temperatures. Streetlights flooded the sidewalks and made her feel safe, as did the women she saw who were out and about. There weren’t a lot but she knew several of them by sight, if not by name.
She walked by the bookstore but Morgan was long gone. She usually saw him sweeping his front porch and stopped to talk at least a couple of times a week. Knowing he was a part of the landscape of Fool’s Gold made her feel as if she’d made the right decision to move here.
She crossed the street to walk by the park. Even in the dark she could see the shapes of the spring flowers waving slightly in the light breeze.
Tomorrow night she had a date with Robert. They were going to Margaritaville, and while she appreciated the invitation, when he’d mentioned the restaurant, all she’d been able to think about was Josh warning her about the margaritas with extra shots.
It wasn’t Robert’s fault, she reminded herself. Josh was practically larger than life, a force of nature. Someone normal and nice could easily get overlooked. She was determined to make sure that didn’t happen.
She continued to walk by the park. Across the street was the sporting goods store. A flash of movement caught her eye and she stopped when she saw someone riding a bike up the paved driveway beside the store and circle around back. The rider looked amazingly like Josh, except he’d told her he never rode anymore.
Charity crossed the street. She had to be mistaken. Why would he tell her he didn’t ride if he did? What was the big deal? So it was someone else. She just wanted to make sure.
As she rounded the back of the building, she saw a small shed tucked in the trees. The door stood open. As she watched, a man finished pulling on jeans. He drew a sweatshirt on over his head and stepped into boots.
The overhead bulb wasn’t very bright but it gave off enough light for her to identify the man. Josh looked up and saw her.
“You said you didn’t ride,” she told him, blurting out the first thing that came to her.
“I didn’t know you were going to spy on me.” He stepped out of the shed. After closing the door, he locked it behind him, then walked toward her.
He was flushed and sweating, his breathing a little fast, as if he’d just finishing a grueling workout. Nothing about this made sense, but the far more interesting fact was that her curiosity seemed to be enough of a distraction that she could control her reaction to him. Or at least keep it more manageable. The tingles were still there, as was the awareness. But she wanted to know what was going on nearly as much as she wanted to rub against him and purr.
Progress, she thought happily. Maybe in time she would be able to have an entire conversation without hearing her hormones chanting.
“I wasn’t spying,” she said, still confused by his actions. “I saw you go riding by. At least I thought it was you.” The pieces all fell together. “Is this what you do every night? Ride? Are you coming back to the hotel tired and sweaty from exercise? You know, everyone thinks you’re off having sex.”
“Including you?”
“I’m not the one who had a girl waiting in my room.”
He flashed her that killer smile and her knees went weak.
“People would talk if you did,” he said. “In a different way than how they talk about me.”
“I’m sure that’s true.” She studied him in the lamplight. He looked good. Not that she thought there was a time when Josh didn’t. “Everyone said there weren’t any secrets in Fool’s Gold.”
“Then this is the only one.”
“Why do you ride at night?”
He stared at her, as if judging…no, not judging. Gauging. But what? If she could be trusted? If she was really interested? She found herself wanting to urge him to believe in her. She wanted to say she would never let him down.
That was the hormones talking, she told herself, even as she continued to hope he would explain himself.
“I ride at night because riding during the day isn’t an option.”
JOSH HADN’T BEEN SURE he would tell her, but now he’d started and there was no going back.
Maybe he wanted someone to know his guilty secret. Maybe it was how she looked in her jeans and hoodie, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Less proper, more approachable. Not that he’d ever been intimidated by a woman. Maybe it was the way she stared at him as if she really wanted to understand.
She already didn’t think very much of him.
