Locked Out of Love (7 page)

Melanie blinked as if surfacing from a dream. “Hmm?”

He mentally groaned. Slayed him!

He traced his fingers down her forearm, marveling at the goose bumps he raised before letting his hand drop away completely.

Fuck, he wanted her.

“I offered to give you a ride to your new job.” He motioned to the clock where they'd already wasted six minutes.

Melanie snapped to attention. “Shit.” She slung her bag over her shoulder.

Joel waved to get her attention. “I can take you,” he repeated.

Melanie hesitated. After a moment's contemplation, she nodded once. “Thank you.”

It took all of Joel's self-control not to lead her out with his hand on the small of her back. He was hyperaware of her every move, and once she was safely tucked into his truck, he took his time walking around to the driver's side. He needed a breather, not to mention he needed to readjust his pants, but the small respite he granted himself was pointless when he opened the car door. The smell of white chocolate and strawberries hit him like a punch to the gut.

He started the truck and instantly blasted the air conditioning.

“What are you doing?” Melanie held her bag to her chest, but not before Joel caught sight of her hardened nipples.

He tore his eyes away and instantly cranked the dial to heat. “Sorry. Where do you work?”

She gave him directions and he turned on his stereo as he pulled out of the community center. Ten seconds into his CD, Melanie reached over and switched it to radio.

“Hey,” he protested. “I was listening to that.”

Melanie stared at him incredulously. “It was a commercial.”

“It was not a commercial, it was Daft Punk.”

“They were talking. I thought it was a commercial.”

“That's how
Giorgio by Moroder
starts. What the hell is this?” Joel cringed as country music blared from his speakers.

“It's Sugarland.”

“Is that like an expansion set for Candyland?”

She shot him a look.

Joel groaned and let his head fall back when they came to a red light. This was all the proof he needed. What he felt for Melanie had to be only attraction. Fate would never pair him with a Mirror Mate who liked country music. Sydney had at least liked hip-hop. Joel didn't know if he could take
Honky Tonk Badonka
whatever.

It turned out he only had to endure it for seven minutes.

“Thank you for driving me,” Melanie said when he pulled up in front of the frozen yogurt shop. She was out the door before he even finished putting his truck in park.

“Hey,” he called before she shut the door. “When can I see you again?”

Color rushed to her cheeks. “Tomorrow?”

“Community center, five o' clock?”

She nodded and hurried off through the front doors of the yogurt shop.

Joel exhaled and peeled his white-knuckled hands from the steering wheel. It was the only way he could think to stop from reaching over and touching her throughout the car ride.

“This is going to be torture,” he said to himself. To be in Melanie's presence without being able to run his hands over her body …

He swallowed thickly.

He could still feel her lips on his, taste her flavor there. Her scent still lingered in the cabin of his truck and he drove the rest of the way home with the windows down.

He was so screwed.

The next day Melanie was busy in the back room of the yogurt shop, tidying up so she could finish her shift, when Daphne strolled in.

“Hey, Fern. Some guy who came in wanted me to give this to you.” Daphne held out a neatly folded piece of paper.

Melanie stared down at it. Her heart started to pick up speed. Was it from Joel? Her lips tingled just thinking about him.

There was no name on the paper, and Melanie frowned. Joel wouldn't have left the note blank, which meant it wasn't from him.

Her gut sank. What if it was from Mr. Richardson, delivering a note from Juliet? She didn't know if she was cut out for this covert ops kind of stuff. On her first night, she'd already kissed the man she was supposed to be gathering intel on. What kind of special agent was she if she couldn't even keep her emotions in control?

A moment of weakness, that's all it was.

She took the paper. “Thanks. Hey, Daphne?” Melanie called to her.

Daphne turned and cocked a hip as she waited by the door.

“What did this guy look like?”

Daphne's head tilted to the side as she recalled. She held up her arm well above her head. “He was this tall with long, dark hair, really intense eyes, and oh yeah, he had a scar.” She touched her chin. “Right here.”

Melanie's blood turned to ice.

Daphne dropped her arm. “Are you okay? You look like you're about to hurl. Do I need to get a bucket or something?”

Melanie reached out to steady herself. “I'm fine.” She forced a smile.

Daphne didn't look convinced, but after a few seconds she shrugged and went back to help what few customers they had.

Melanie quickly scanned the room, half expecting to find a camera watching her. She huddled into a corner and unfolded the note.

There was no name, but there didn't need to be. She knew exactly who left this note for her.

Alexander.

Phantom fingers tightened around her wrists and forearms, and she could all but feel the bruises that had long since faded. She could still smell the scent of Alexander's breath when he used to pull her close and threaten her. Onions and weed.

Melanie's limbs started to shake, and she crumpled the paper in her hand and threw it for all she was worth.

See you soon.

The words haunted her. She knew he'd search her out. She'd been naïve to think that the restraining order would keep him away. Okay, it had. For three weeks. It was the longest period of time she'd ever gone without seeing him. She'd actually believed that he'd forgotten about her, that maybe, just maybe he'd moved on and she wouldn't have to look over her shoulder. She should have known better.

She curled her fingers into her palms to stop the trembling in her hands. She forced herself to finish her chores and clocked out.

• • •

“Is everything all right?”

Joel's brow was wrinkled in concern. He was wearing another graphic tee, this one with “bow ties are cool” plastered across the front. She could feel his eyes assessing every last inch of her as they sat across from each other in a classroom at the community center, reading the stress in her shoulders and neck.

She almost couldn't stand it. She rubbed at her temples. She was supposed to be gathering information for Juliet, learning about her annoying abilities, but all her thoughts could do was circle around Alexander and how his stupid-ass note was going to ruin her mission and she'd let Nathan down.

Joel, Nathan, Alexander. Three men in her life. Three men too many.

She pushed harder against her temples and closed her eyes. “I'm fine,” she lied to Joel.

Warm fingers encompassed her wrists. Melanie's eyes snapped open. Joel watched her carefully, gently tugging her hands away from her face. A few seconds later he released his hold and reached for her. Melanie had no idea what to expect, but when his strong fingers pressed against the sides of her head she nearly moaned. He rotated his fingers in a circular motion and she felt her eyes sliding shut.

“Tell me what's wrong,” Joel's voice slid over her like silk.

His massage was lulling her into a daze, and she opened her mouth without thought. “It's—” She stopped as her mind caught up to what she was about to say. “It's nothing.”

Joel's fingers froze.

Melanie bemoaned the loss of his massage. She didn't want him to stop. She hated how he was the only thing that eased the pressure in her chest. The only thing that eased the tension in her body, made her feel safe, secure, and every other girly tendency she shouldn't be feeling in his presence.

“Why don't you confide in me?” he asked in a hushed voice.

There really wasn't any need to whisper, but Melanie found herself doing it too, as if she couldn't draw in enough breath to speak louder. “I don't even know you.”

Joel studied her. One of his hands fell away, but the other trailed down the side of her face. Slowly. So slowly.

Her heart stuttered in her chest. Her stomach clenched in anticipation.

His fingertip was so hot against her cheek it practically seared her skin and made her want things she hadn't wanted in quite some time.

He traced down to her chin then lazily made his way back up. He took a detour at the level of her mouth. His finger brushed the edge of her lips and recklessly Melanie opened her mouth. Her tongue darted out and laved the tip of his finger, coaxing it to come closer.

Joel inhaled sharply. The dark blue in his eyes churned with raw emotion.

Melanie's breasts ached and heat pooled low in her abdomen. She drew Joel's finger further into her mouth.

His gaze never left her, and she'd never felt a stronger connection with someone. She should feel embarrassed by her actions, but she wasn't. She enjoyed the animalistic desire staring back at her, the way Joel's Adam's apple bobbed and the muscles in his neck bunched. She was driving him nuts and she loved it.

She ran her tongue over a callus and bit down just behind his nail bed.

”Fuck.” He hastily glanced to the front of the room where two people were working on laptops, with their headphones on. Neither one even looked up at the sound.

With one final suck she released his finger. His hand dropped to the table like a lead weight. Joel didn't even seem to notice.

What are you doing, Melanie?
her inner voice of reason spoke up.

She didn't know. She didn't know anything anymore.

“I don't even know you,” she repeated. Maybe if she spoke the words aloud, her brain would stop what her body seemed to be doing all on its own.

Joel's knee brushed hers under the table as he slid closer. “Sometimes you only need to know what you already know, and fate will take care of the rest.”

Melanie reared back from him. His words were like a slap in her face.

Fate. That damned goddess Alexander worshiped.

Could it be possible that Joel was as deluded as Alexander? Had she read Joel wrong? That she was falling for the same kind of guy all over again ate at her.

Wait … falling?

She cursed herself mentally. It was true. His charming, nervous boy routine was lowering her defenses. He was just so damn caring. Even now his face held nothing but worry.

“What's wrong?” He reached for her, but she pulled her hand away. The muscles in his jaw bunched at her retreat. “And don't tell me it's nothing,” he added before she could open her mouth and say it. “Something made you shut down. What is it? You look frazzled. You can't hold it all in. Eventually you'll need an outlet.”

“And you volunteer to be that outlet?” she snapped at him. She should have known this was bound to come back to sex. It always did when it came to men. God, she'd been an idiot, and here a few seconds ago she'd almost admitted to falling for the guy.

But Joel surprised her. “I'll always be here for you,” he said without a hint of anything more attached to the statement. “Everyone needs someone to talk to, someone to listen to them. But if you don't want me around, I'll leave. I won't force my company on you.”

Heat flooded Melanie's cheeks. What was wrong with her? She was sending mixed signals left and right and couldn't seem to stop herself. She was out of control and she didn't like it.

Focus
.

Yes, she had a lot on her plate, but she could deal, she always did.

When Joel started to rise from his seat, she was the one to reach out. Her heart quivered when her fingers touched the back of his hand, and she started to trace the scars beneath her fingertips.

And just like that, desire flared between them again. It filled the room until it was a wonder the two people at the front couldn't feel the weight of it.

“How did you get them?” she asked.

Joel stared down, studying her. Whatever he saw made him sit back down. “Cars,” he said simply. “My dad used to own a '73 Pontiac Firebird, red,” he said with a grin, like the color meant everything. “I used to help him work on it. My mother hated it, hated how cut up I used to get because I never paid any attention to the danger. I never wore the gloves she got me, either. She used to get so mad at Dad for not enforcing the covered hands rule. I just liked taking things apart with my hands and putting them back together again.” He shrugged. “But Dad knew the importance of getting your hands dirty. I used to have oil and grease in my fingernails for weeks.” He stared down at his nail beds, as if imagining the grime there again.

She withdrew her hands and folded them into her lap, tracing the carvings in the wood tabletop with her eyes to keep them from drifting to Joel. “I received a note earlier today,” she said when she built up the nerve. Joel was silent, and she wanted so badly to look up and see the expression his face held, but she plowed on.

“It was from my ex.” She heard a knuckle pop. Still, she kept her eyes down. “I put a restraining order on him weeks ago, and I really thought he'd stay away this time, but apparently my new job is somewhere he frequents. So, of course, he thinks this is a sign from Fate—that bitch goddess he seems to love so much.” She gave a snort. “I don't even know if Fate is a real goddess or not, but either way he thinks we're meant to be together.” She shook her head and finally lifted her head. “It's not, though—a sign, I mean. There's no such thing as destiny. Fate doesn't decide who we love. We do. Free will. I thought I loved him, but love doesn't hurt you intentionally.” She realized too late that she'd slipped. Let go of something she didn't intend to. “Not that kind of hurt anyway,” she whispered.