Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
A dam was skating on thin ice and he damn well knew it. Talking this through with Tracy was supposed to desensitize him but it was having the opposite effect.
What was happening? They’d been friends since third grade, for crying out loud. She was like a sister to him. Or had been until New Year’s Eve.
He took another gulp of beer. It wasn’t the taste he longed for. He wanted kisses flavored with champagne, the feel of her silken breast in his hand, the sound of her eager moan when he cupped her ass and tucked her in close.
“Are you okay?”
He glanced across the table. And lied. “I’m fine. I was just wondering when you’d last seen the progress on the bookstore.”
She flushed. “I’ve walked by a few times, but your truck was always there, so…”
A short, descriptive swearword slipped out. “That’s why we need to fix this. You were as excited about it as the rest of us.”
“Judging from what you said at the meeting, it’s coming along great.”
“Do you want the rest of your beer?”
“Not really, but you paid for?—”
“Never mind that. Let’s go take a look.” Cold air and a brisk walk was a better plan than sitting in this dark corner drinking booze.
“Now?”
“Sure. The electricity’s hooked up. Even working parttime, Angie and her crew are making better progress than I expected. We’ll have our summer grand opening, no problem.”
“I’d love to see how it looks.”
He shoved back his chair. “Then let’s go.”
“Alrighty.” She stood, grabbed her coat and had it on in no time. Then she picked up her soft-sided briefcase.
The message was clear—she didn’t want him helping her with any of that. He hoped to God she wasn’t skittish around him now. Couldn’t blame her if she was.
Shoving his arms into the sleeves of his winter jacket, he picked up his hat and crammed it on his head. She needed to see that bookstore. His mom had been in there several times a week and Tracy would have been, too, under normal circumstances.
He gestured toward his family. “We need to let them know why we’re taking off.”
“What are you going to say?”
“You’ve been too busy to get over there and now’s a good time. You can chime in if you want.”
“I will, and it’s true. I have been busy.”
“Me, too.” But he’d never gone this long without at least meeting her for coffee. Tracy centered him in a way he’d never acknowledged before.
He led the way over to the group and stopped next to his mom’s chair. She wore her salt-and-pepper curls cut short these days, saying it was easier to take care of. He was all for making her life easier.
She glanced up. “Get everything discussed?”
“We did, and I also discovered Trace has been slammed with work and hasn’t made it over to see how the bookstore’s coming along.”
“Oh, no!” His mom switched her attention to Tracy. “I don’t know how you could stay away. I can’t.”
“I’ve been swamped. I think everybody made a New Year’s resolution to get legal advice. But I’m dying to check it out, so we’re heading over there now.”
“I hope you’re taking Adam’s truck,” Mila said. “It’s too cold to walk it.”
He hadn’t thought that far. “I suppose it is.”
“Nah, we can walk.” Tracy grinned. “If Auntie Kat can skinny-dip in the water hole this time of year we can walk to the bookstore.”
“There you go.” His auntie gave a nod of approval. “Young people are getting soft.”
“I vote for the truck,” said Carrie, Tracy’s mom.
“Take the truck, mijo .” His mom’s dark eyes, the same deep brown as Mila’s, were filled with questions. “We can’t afford to have either one of you come down with something.”
“Okay, Mom.” He’d loved the word mijo from the first time she’d called him that. Thanks to her, he knew quite a bit of Spanish.
She smiled. “By the way, good job tonight.”
“Yeah, bro,” his little brother Monty called out. Not so little anymore. “You did us proud, right, gang?”
“Except I wanted you to bang that gavel more.” Greta, the baby of the Bunch at twenty-two, sent him a teasing glance. “That’s my favorite part.”
“Next time I will, just for you.” His gaze swept the group. “Thanks for coming. It means a lot.”
“Wouldn’t have missed it, hermano. ” Luis was closest in age at twenty-nine. They’d been fierce rivals when they were kids, but now they’d give their lives for each other.
“Better get your butt in gear.” Claudette, next in birth order, pointed toward the front door. “Don’t forget tomorrow’s a workday.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Should we wait for you?” His mom was parsing out the situation. He could see the wheels turning.
“Better not.”
“Okay, then. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Right.” He tipped his hat and started toward the entrance.
“’Bye, everybody,” Trace called over her shoulder.
Their progress was slow as he returned greetings from folks along the way. They finally made it to the front door. “Sorry, I?—”
“No apology necessary. You’re a hit, Mayor Bridger.”
“It’s the honeymoon period.” He held the door open for her. “Jerry warned me about it.” He followed her out, welcoming the bite of cold air on his overheated libido. “Everybody loves a new mayor in the beginning, but eventually I’ll make an unpopular motion or vote against something that others want and the bloom will be off the rose.”
“You’re lucky to have Jerry.” Her breath created little puffs of moisture.
So did his. “Tell me about it. He says he’s resigning in two years but that gives me two years to talk him into staying.” He’d had to park a block away. As they walked toward his truck, he was hyper aware of Tracy — the rhythm of her steps, the sound of her breathing, the sweet scent wafting from her warm body.
He needed a distraction and he needed it now. Aha. Lamp posts. Inanimate. Decidedly unsexy. He evaluated the paint on each one they passed. “These posts need some touching up. Maybe even a complete repainting.”
“Gee, I wonder who we should contact to get that taken care of. Oh, wait, that’s you.”
“And my first instinct is to grab a bucket of black paint and a brush and do it myself.”
“You’d better learn to delegate or you’ll burn out in six months.”
“You’re right. Reg would find us the cheapest options but I worry about quality control.”
“I’d ask Betty to check into it. She knows everyone in town. She’ll get you good bids from painters who know what they’re doing.”
“Good advice. I’ll do that.” They reached his truck and he opened her door out of habit.
“Thanks.” She scrambled in, definitely not wanting a hand up.
While he rounded the hood, he debated whether to say something. Yeah, he needed to. After climbing in and starting the engine so the heat would come on, he turned to her. “I promise I won’t grab you.”
“ What ?” She looked at him, eyes wide.
“You act like you’re worried I’ll pounce if you let me get too close.”
“No! I don’t think that at all! I’m just?—”
“You made sure I couldn’t help you on with your coat and just now you practically vaulted into the truck so I had no chance to hand you in. Are you afraid of me?”
She gulped and shook her head. “It’s me. I’m afraid I might… repeat my mistake.”
Fire shot through his veins. She still wanted him. But not him, specifically. He needed to keep that in mind. She was on the rebound, seeking someone to ease the pain of rejection.
Pulling air into his lungs, he gave himself a moment for the heat to subside. Better. He cleared the lust from his throat. “It’s natural for you to… to want someone when…”
“When I’ve been dumped?”
“I can’t imagine why he let you go. Obviously he didn’t know what he had.”
“Thank you. That’s very nice of you to say. You’re a good friend.”
“So are you.” But the nature of their friendship had changed and it might never change back.
“I’ve never been dumped before.”
“You always did it?” Sitting beside her in this cozy cab turned him on, but maybe if they kept talking, he’d get over it.
“Yeah, and I hated being the one to call it quits, but being the dumpee is worse.”
“Yes, ma’am, it is.”
“Are you speaking from experience?”
“Yep.”
“Who in their right mind would break up with you ?”
Her indignation made him laugh. Eased some of his tension. “Sheree Mulvaney, senior year.”
“I thought that was mutual.”
“Oh, no. I was madly in love, tried my best to win her over. She faked a romance for my sake because we were homecoming king and queen and the whole school was watching. But she was in love with Ronny Halstead.”
“Oh, yeah, the school chess genius. I couldn’t figure out why she’d traded you for him. You’re a much better catch.”
“Not in her book. Can you believe I challenged him to a match?”
“Oh, no. Was it brutal?”
“Brutal and short. Took him less than two minutes to put me away.”
“I’m sorry. Do you still think about her?”
“Not often, but when I do, it makes me smile. We had nothing in common, but she had a hot body and that was enough for me at eighteen.”
“And now?”
“I want someone I can talk with.”
“You don’t care about the hot body anymore?”
“Oh, I care. I still want that, but sex needs to be followed by interesting conversation.”
“About what?”
“People. The world. Wild animals. Outer space. No holds barred.” He glanced over and caught the yearning in her gaze. His breath hitched.
She looked away, her color high.
His fault. He should have directed the conversation away from such a loaded topic. Instead he’d answered her questions without thinking, like he was used to doing before everything had changed.
“Trace, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have?—”
“I asked you. I was curious.”
“What you’re feeling…we’ve all been there. It’s a rebound attraction.”
“I’ve never been there.”
“That’s true. All the more reason to be cautious. It’s not a good time to get involved with anyone.”
“I agree. Let’s go check out the bookstore.” She fastened her seatbelt.
He clicked his into place, too, and put the truck in reverse. The air was thick with tension, even worse than when they’d been tucked into a corner at the Raccoon because now they were alone.
She wanted to be held, to be loved. He could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. And God help him, he wanted to give her what she craved.