you’re going for the romance thing?” she asked. “Isn’t it a little late?”
“You mean because I already got the girl?” He led her to the sofa and settled next to her.
“You got the girl in a bright and shiny new way. You have a lot of upper body strength.”
“I should accept the compliment with a knowing smile,” he said as he put his arm around her. “Instead I’ll tell the truth, which is that it’s all about leverage.”
She winced. “Not sure I wanted to know that.”
“Why?”
She stared at the fire, trying not to enjoy the moment too much. “Not the mechanics. The fact that you have so much experience that you can talk about them. It’s scary.”
He angled toward her, which meant his warm arm wasn’t around her, but he left his hand on her shoulder. “I won’t lie to you. I had a great time when I was in my early twenties. I was a well-known athlete and women were everywhere. I took advantage of that.” He gave her a slow, sexy smile. “It was fun.”
And he was telling her this why? Because it wasn’t making her feel any better.
“I’m not that guy anymore,” he said. “I grew up a long time ago. But people don’t want to believe that. They like the legend and stories that go with that. If I’m still the guy on the poster, then they get glory by association.”
She could almost understand that. “The opposite of the old saying that you can’t be a hero in your hometown?”
“Yeah. I can’t stop being a hero.” He grimaced. “That sounds arrogant. I’m not trying to be a jerk. I’m just saying that’s how it’s been with me for years. This town took care of me. They looked out for me and they feel they’ve earned a piece of me. They like thinking I have a different woman in my room every night because it feeds the story and they like how that story plays.”
She thought about him riding his bike, coming back sweaty and everyone assuming it was because he was out getting lucky.
“It’s not like you want to correct the assumption,” she pointed out. “You don’t tell them differently.”
“I don’t want them to know the truth.”
That he couldn’t ride, she thought. He didn’t want to spoil the fantasy.
“I got divorced about two years ago,” he told her. “I dated a little after that, but nothing came of it. I moved back here, and since then…” Now it was his turn to glance away. “Let’s just say it’s been a hell of a dry spell.”
“Thank you. That makes me feel better. I’ve never been good at being one in a crowd.”
“Me, either.”
“What? There’s no crowd.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“Oh, please. Do not even pretend I’m sleeping with Robert,” she told him. “We’ve had all of three dates. Besides, he’s not my type.”
“That’s not what you were saying earlier.”
“You annoyed me,” she told him. “On purpose. What was I supposed to say?”
“You annoyed me, too.”
“How?”
“You went out with him.”
Oh.
Talk about unexpected. Charity glanced at Josh, then away. She sipped her wine, more for something to do than because she was thirsty. Her confusion faded and she found herself feeling a little gooey inside. Maybe the wild wall sex wasn’t the smartest decision she’d ever made, but maybe it hadn’t been a total mistake.
“I won’t be going out with him again,” she murmured.
“Good.”
She glanced at Josh from under her lashes. “He, ah, has a fondness for the Civil War. One of the bedrooms is devoted to miniature displays of various battles. There are buildings and roads and little tiny trees.”
His mouth twitched. “I’m sure a lot of research goes into making those.”
“I’m sure it does.”
She shifted so she was facing him, tucking her right leg under her. “Don’t take this the wrong way, because I’m not really a sports person.” She paused. “So how good were you?”
He laughed. “I was the best. Ranked number one, and for a couple of years that was against Lance Armstrong. You name a race and I’ve probably won it. I had multimillion-dollar endorsement deals. I still have a couple. I was on the cover of every racing magazine and most sports-related publications. I’ve been in People‘s sexiest issues a couple of times.”
“I read People,” she murmured, knowing she would have looked at his picture as just one of the pretty people who weren’t real. “Now I’m getting scared again.”
“Why?”
“It’s the rock star thing. I never had that fantasy.”
“I can’t play guitar.”
“You know what I mean. The fame. I never wanted any association with someone well known. My life is quiet and I prefer it that way.”
“I’m not famous now.”
“You are, but it’s different here. I told you my mom and I moved around a lot when I was young. All I ever wanted was a place to belong. Roots. Connection. Family. Mostly family. I don’t need to be important to the world. In fact I don’t want that—too much responsibility. But I do want someone to care, if that makes sense.”
“It does.”
THE LAMP BEHIND THEM caught the lighter tones of Charity’s soft brown hair. It played with the side of her face, making her eyes seem larger and more mysterious. She had a look about her, a combination of satisfaction and “what the hell was I thinking?”
Not that Josh had any answers. The sex hadn’t been planned, but it sure had been good. One second he’d been pissed about her date with Robert and how unexpectedly good she’d looked, the next he’d been hell bent for taking anything she offered. He wanted her again, but slower this time. He wanted her in his bed, naked, with all the time in the world to explore her body, touch her soft skin. He wanted to taste her everywhere. He wanted to make her come in a thousand different ways. He wanted to lose himself in her over and over again. So much for being a guy who didn’t ever get involved.
“You have the Hendrixes,” she said. “They’re your family.”
It took him a second to remember what they were talking about. “They’ve always been good to me. Denise wanted a daughter. After three boys she was desperate to try one more time. She really wanted a girl. She got three.”
Charity’s
