Nobody's Fool (18 page)

“Oracle cards?” She forced her eyes upward.

“New Age girlfriend—don't ask.” The corners of his mouth lifted.

“Ah. Thank you.” Her voice came out deeper and sounded like it was saying something different altogether. “For Emma and everything.”

“No problem.” His eyes burned hot into hers.

“I didn't see much of you today.” The heat scaled her cheeks as she caught the unintentional innuendo.

“I was sulking.”

“Oh.”

“I'm over it now.”

“I should go to bed.” Holly waved at the empty hallway. The rest of her vetoed the idea.

“Yeah. About that.” The small distance between them hummed with expectation. He uncrossed his arms and took a step closer. “I was wondering whether you might be lonely.”

“Oh.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Getting lonely in bed all by yourself?”

He stood in front of her, and Holly let her head drop back against the wall behind her with a soft
thunk
. “Yes.”

“I could help you with that.”

She should say no and go back to bed alone. “Okay.”

He took her hand and led her down the hall.

She reached for him before the soft
snick
of the door enclosed them in the privacy of the dark.

His hands speared through her hair and cradled her scalp, holding her head still for the thorough taking of her mouth.

“Josh, I—”

“No talking, baby. I don't want to talk anymore. We can talk more in the morning.” His tongue tangled with hers in a mind-numbing duel.

The last vestiges of protest melted away as he crowded her toward the bed. She wanted what he offered, and morning would come soon enough.

He was true to his word. No talking. He made love to her with a ruthless, thorough determination that left Holly punch-drunk and clinging to him as he took her to greater and greater heights.

He drove her further with his hands and his mouth and his hot, hard body until she wasn't sure where he ended and she began. And then, later, she didn't care anymore, but gave herself over to his assiduous dominance.

By the time they lay spent, Holly got what it meant to be intimate with a man.

Josh lay at her side, his breathing deep and heavy as he slept. He kept a light touch on her, as if he couldn't quite bear to completely separate from her. He lay on his stomach, the pillow crushed beneath the side of his face and his hand heavy and slack across her belly.

Exhaustion snuck up behind her eyelids and mocked her intention to get up and go to her own room. She lay wrapped in a bubble of togetherness and couldn't move and break through the fragile membrane surrounding them. For a small while more, she wanted to lie here and pretend this was the way it could be. Just for a moment longer.

Chapter Twenty-One

Holly walked into the kitchen the next morning and straight into a full frontal glare from Emma. She'd dug out another pair of shorts and a tank top from Lucy's bag of magic. And although she didn't wear hot pink often, or never, it seemed to suit her. The shorts had a flat-fronted, forties cut, like a retro pinup would wear.

“You're sleeping with him?”

The rain on her parade sat at the kitchen table grimly eating something that should be fed to a horse. Emma ate strictly vegan and totally organic, which would have been fine if she could cook. As she couldn't, her diet generally consisted of rather dubious-looking bowls of brown-gray stuff. It was probably, in part, responsible for her pissy mood.

“Good morning.” Holly walked over to the coffeemaker. Reality hadn't waited long to catch up with her.

Josh had already made coffee. It had to be Josh. Emma only drank herbal tea and Portia had yet to make a cup of coffee for anyone but herself. It was another of those small things that made it difficult to keep him at arm's length.

“If you're looking for him, he said to tell you he was going to train.”

“Ah.” Holly poured her coffee and fetched some milk from the fridge. “He's doing some sort of triathlon thing in a few days.”

“He also told me to let you sleep. You were tired.” Emma's eyes narrowed accusingly at Holly. “How would he know you were still sleeping?”

Holly bit back a sigh. Emma the nun wasn't going to quietly take the hint and drop it. Holly blew on her coffee and took a cautious sip. “I would say the answer is fairly obvious.”

The man might not know how to cook, but he could certainly make a cup of coffee.

“What are you doing, Holly?” Emma shoved a spoonful of the unappetizing mess into her mouth.

“I'm drinking my coffee.” Could she have one day without the drama? Only one. “I'm trying to get my sister back home safely, and other than that, I have no idea and am playing it as it comes along.”

“Is it serious?” Emma swung her body around. “How long has it been going on?”

“No. Maybe. I don't know, Em. Now can we drop it?”

Emma examined her critically from over the top of her spoon of gruel. “And what are you wearing? Did you go shopping?”

“No.” Holly was done with the interrogation. “These were lent to me. My clothes were stolen along with the car.”

“Those don't look like natural fibers,” Emma said. “In fact, I'm sure I saw those shorts in a magazine somewhere.”

“I doubt it.” Holly sipped her coffee and hunted for breakfast. She latched on to a paper bag full of fresh croissants.

Josh must have been up early.

“I'm sure I did.” Emma hung on like a terrier with a bone. “That pink is one of the must-have colors this season. Everything is bright and vibrant this summer. Lots of florals and brights.”

Say what?
Emma, in her homespun pumpkin-colored dress that dropped from her shoulders straight to the ground, was talking about fashion trends? Talk about your parallel universe. “Is Portia up?”

“No.” Emma pushed her bowl away. “And what about Portia? How can you even be thinking of getting involved with that man when he's involved with Portia already?”

“He isn't involved with Portia.” Holly snapped her mug down on the countertop. Time to get this out in the open. “He says he has never been involved with Portia and I believe him.”

She held up her hand when Emma looked like she was going to start up again. “Yesterday, Portia admitted as much. Any involvement between them is in her own mind.”

Emma pursed her lips like a maiden aunt. “Still, you know Portia would be devastated to find out you're carrying on with him when she has feelings for him.”

Guilt twisted the knife in her gut. “I know that. I didn't—” How could she explain her behavior?

Emma glared at her.

She should never have fallen into bed with Josh last night. She should have stuck to her decision to end whatever it was between them and get back to her real life. “I understand, Emma. Portia won't find out.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because it won't happen again.” And even as she said it, the reality pressed down on Holly.

Josh had been wonderful, a chance to be a different Holly for a while. A taste of something magical and transformative, but it was over now. Inside, way deep inside, the Holly forties pinup of this morning stamped her feet. Why did it have to be over?

Emma got to her feet and cleared her breakfast things away. “Good.”

God, Emma was so calm and complacent. And smug. All was right in Emma's world again. The pinup broke free of the chokehold Holly had on her and the sense of injustice flared to life. “I am entitled to a life, Emma.”

Emma's eyes bugged out. “You have a life, Holly. You have a good job at the university, a house you share with Portia and me, and a boyfriend. You seem to have forgotten about Steven.”

“I haven't forgotten about Steven.” The color leeched out of Holly's day. Her snappy outfit, which had seemed hip and sexy minutes before, felt silly on her now.

“This is not your life, Holly.” Emma waved her hand in an encompassing gesture. “Here in Willow Park, in this house, wearing those clothes, and that . . . man. This is some temporary thing, and yet you want to risk Portia's sanity for it?” Emma turned away, as if the subject were closed. “I am going to check on my sister.”

Emma sailed out of the kitchen.

A small knot of resentment hardened in Holly's belly. This life of hers Emma spoke about was suddenly as bland and unappetizing as Emma's breakfast.

But Emma was right. Her life wasn't here. She'd been kidding herself.

It could be.
The Holly of last night stuck her head up carefully.

No, it couldn't, because men like Josh Hunter didn't go for girls like her.

Except he had and he was and he looked like he wanted to keep doing so.

The croissant on the counter lost its appeal and, for the first time in years, she didn't feel hungry. She was feeling sorry for herself and she hated that. It was the way Emma assumed she would carry on as if nothing had changed. They assumed she would because it's what she always did.

At what point had she made it her job to make up for the things the twins didn't get from their parents? And how come this was just occurring to her now? The knot of resentment grew into a bundle because she wanted something in direct conflict with the needs of the twins. She wanted Josh, but Portia was obsessed with him, and that put him out of the picture for Holly.

“Hey there.”

Holly's heartbeat kicked up a notch as Josh appeared in the doorway. Not for her. A wan smile was the best she could dredge up.

“That's not the face you were wearing when I left you.” Josh moved right behind her. His hands rested on her hips, his lips warm on her ear.

Holly desperately wanted to lean back into his heat. She wanted it so fiercely she stood for a moment, every molecule of her being urging her to allow herself to take what he offered. Instead, she stepped away and to the side. He was hot and sweaty and gorgeous, and she couldn't stand to look at him right then.

“Holly?” As always, he read her like a book.

“About last night.” Her voice was strained, wooden.

His jaw tightened. “You're going to tell me it was a mistake, right?”

“It was.” She stubbornly stuck to her course.

“I don't agree.” He shrugged. “We have something, Holly. It's new and I'm not sure where it's going, but there's a connection between us, and the more time we spend together, the stronger it gets.”

His words pierced the part of her that wanted so badly it made her gasp. “But we can't.”

“Because of Portia?”

She nodded. Saying it out loud made her want to cry, and she never cried.

“Or because of you?” Up went his eyebrow.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Portia is sick, no doubt about that, and this situation has all kinds of trouble all over it, but if you're going to walk away from us, be sure it's not because you're frightened of what would happen if you actually grabbed on to a life of your own.” He stopped in the doorway. “Because from where I'm standing, Holly, you deserve that and a whole lot more.”

“Argh.” Holly collapsed in a chair. She didn't want to argue with him. She wanted to fight with life. The life that said it was wrong for her to be with him. The same life that said it was her responsibility to take care of Portia.

Down the hallway, Josh greeted Emma.

Her sister gave a frosty response.

And there you had it. There was no point to this ridiculous uproar. She was going in a day or two. As soon as she had her passport, she was out of there. When they were back home, things would settle back down to the way they always were.

She wanted to cry.

Josh stalked into the bathroom and shut the door. He resisted the urge to slam it, repeatedly.

She pulled him close and then shoved him away.

He'd been stupid enough to believe last night meant something more, that Holly would give them a chance. She'd slammed the door on that idea.

He didn't like the feeling in the pit of his stomach; a jittery sensation that made him ask all sorts of uncomfortable questions.

He needed to know how she felt because right now he was strung out on a line. Vulnerable.

He turned on the water and stepped into the shower. Propping his arms against the wall, he let the water drum against his nape.

Her rejection hurt and he'd struck back.

What a fucking dick! Only a complete douche could resent her sisters because they stood between him and what he wanted.

Portia was ill and needed help. Emma was so fragile he was terrified of doing anything that would shatter her.

Holly. Brave, fierce, and loyal Holly, fighting to hold it all together like a one-man army. And here he was, having a mantrum.

He'd spent the last hour of his run working on the sort of fantasy that would top off his endorphin high. He wanted to slide his hands up under that oversized T-shirt and find that firm, ripe, gorgeous body. There was something about her baggy, oversized clothes. He was doing his best to get rid of them, make no mistake, but there was still something appealing about knowing he was the only one who got what a wonderland they concealed.

Damn, it was so much more than sex. Getting to know Holly was an adventure, peeling back the layers of who she was and finding the real woman beneath. She hid more than a kick-ass body beneath her big tees, and he wanted more.

Ah. Lest he forget: Steven the boyfriend, conspicuous by his absence.

But he wasn't here, standing beside Holly while she battled on alone.

Holly needed someone to stand by her, be with her. Not a man who only gave a crap about his own agenda.

Which brought him right around to himself and being a dick. He was doing the same thing he'd done all those years ago. The same thing his dad had reamed him out about: taking what he wanted and damn the rest.

For the first time in his life, he might have to consider the possibility he wouldn't get the girl. Josh snorted out loud at his own conceit. There were probably all sorts of people waiting for this day. What goes around comes around and all that.

He snapped the faucets off and stepped out of the shower. The mirror fogged and he wiped it clear. “Josh,” he said to his bleary reflection, “this is Karma; Karma, meet Josh. You owe him a little something.”

 

 

Holly put in her call to Grace.

“This is Grace.”

“Hey, it's me.” Her news wasn't going to go down well. “I wanted to let you know we found Portia.”

“Yeah. I got your text.” Grace sounded distracted. “That's good, Holly. That's very good.”

“Gracie? Are you listening to me? I said we found Portia.”

“And I said that's great.”

Holly took a moment to absorb the rudeness. It was completely uncalled for.

Grace heaved a huge sigh. “I'm sorry, Holly, I'm a bit on edge. Tell me about Portia.”

“Well, we were right, she's off the medication and has been for a while.”

“What the hell?” Grace snorted. “Why can't she stay on the stuff? If you don't force it down her throat, I don't know if she would take it at all.”

“Actually—” They might as well get this over and move on—“there's more, and it's not so good.”

“Uh-huh.” Grace's tone braced for impact.

“She's pregnant.”

The silence hummed and snapped down the line.

“You are going to have to say that again,” Grace said.

“Portia is pregnant and that's why she went off the medication.”

“Motherfu—are you sure?”

“Yup. Doctor confirmed it.”

Grace took a breath. “And the father?”

“Now is where the story gets interesting.” Holly grimaced as she anticipated Grace's reaction.

“Oh, I can't wait to hear this.”

“You know Josh Hunter? I said he was helping me?”

“Yes, but—” Grace choked. “You're kidding me? Josh Hunter and Portia?” Grace made a soft noise of sympathy. “Oh, Holly, I thought you and—”

“No.” Goddamn. All she needed was Grace storming down the wrong road. “There is no Josh and Portia. There is only Portia saying there's a Josh and Portia.”