Chapter Three
It was too late, too chilly, and too quiet to be outside, yet that’s where Roxie had ended up, and it was right where she was going to stay.
It was deep into the night, probably closer to morning.
The bar had closed, and the staff had cleaned up long ago.
Everyone had gone home, but she hadn’t known what to do with herself.
So here she was on the roof of the building, listening to the night world and trying to make sense of things.
With a soft breeze stirring, the nip in the air was closer to a bite. She huddled deeper into her blanket and stared out over the river. The moon was just a slit tonight, but that white crescent was bright. It cast a bluish tint on everything, making the scene a bit unreal.
Unreal. Now wasn’t that the word of the day?
The breeze picked up, causing her cheeks to sting. It was the smack in the face she needed. Sleep was not in the cards tonight, not with all the thoughts and feelings rushing through her head.
Feelings. She scowled. When had they sneaked up on her again?
Tonight was supposed to have been fun and carefree.
Yet she hadn’t been feeling that way even before Billy had shown up, had she?
Billy.
She pressed her legs together more tightly and drew them up towards her chest. Watching the river glide along whisper-soft, she ran her fingers over her lips. They’d avoided each other most of the night, but that kiss he’d given her had lingered.
Simmering and teasing.
Until it wasn’t just her lips that were craving more.
Her eyelids had just started to drift closed when she heard the door behind her. She stayed where she was but moved her hand under the blanket to her side.
“I thought I might find you up here,” a low voice said.
Her shoulders slumped. Speak of the devil. “Billy,” she sighed.
He knew her too damn well.
He moved into her line of vision. He looked tall and sturdy with his hands tucked in the pockets of his jacket.
His attention was on the view before them.
People often asked why she didn’t move further away from the bar.
Why did she keep her apartment on the third floor? This was why, her little secret.
From atop the building, there was a bird’s eye view of Cobalt City. She could see the city lights on the east side, but more importantly, she could see down to the river. It flowed like black satin tonight, twisting and curling its way silently southward.
“At least this place has a door to the roof and stairs.” He turned in a circle, looking at the rest of the neighborhood. Things weren’t as colorful or glamorous here on the west side, but it had a comfort to it. A familiarity. “No climbing out of windows or scrambling up fire escapes for once.”
He’d followed her on both before… and walked across pitched rooftops to find her when things had gotten to be too much.
He nudged her lawn chair with his toe. “All the amenities, too, I see.”
She spent enough time up here that she’d invested in a cheap lounger and plastic table. Nobody had needed to know.
“It’s my Shangri-La, baby.”
“Definitely a step up.” He tested out the sturdiness of a nearby utility box. Deciding it would hold him, he hopped atop it and let his long legs dangle.
“Still, it’s not all that safe up here, Rox.”
The corner of her mouth twitched. “It is when you’re carrying this.”
She produced her pepper spray from beneath the blanket she’d wrapped around herself. His eyebrows rose in surprise, but then he let out a laugh.
That soft chuckle made her press her legs together tighter. She hadn’t heard him do that for so long. He was the one who’d always had the easygoing personality, while she had the flash-fire temper. He was the one who’d made her laugh when times got tough.
She tucked the spray away and pulled the blanket up to her chin. Maybe a coat wouldn’t have been a bad idea… like a parka with two inches of down and fur around the hood. She was suddenly feeling way too exposed.
“It’s three o’clock in the morning, Roxie. Why aren’t you in bed?”
Because it had been a big night for her, and that bed was so damn empty.
And he had showed up.
Take your pick.
“Are you drunk?” she asked.
“I’m feeling it,” he admitted. “You?”
She pursed her lips, gauging her inebriation. “I’m a bit tipsy.”
He raked a hand through his hair. The breeze was already ruffling it, making it look so soft and thick. She squeezed her hands together and flinched when she nearly triggered her pepper spray. Tucking it against her hip, she tried to find a better place to settle her hands.
“I’m sorry I tried to hit you earlier.” She’d already apologized for that, but somehow, she didn’t think it had stuck.
“I appreciate you pulling your punch.”
“I was protecting my sister.”
“That’s a good instinct to have.”
She rolled her head along the plastic headrest. He looked so sexy just sitting there atop that big metal box, all tough in that leather jacket, but so approachable with his baby face and rock-hard body. With the bluish light cast all around them, everything seemed provocative.
“They’re curious about you,” she whispered.
“I’m curious about them.” He flicked a rock off the utility box, and it skipped along over the hard roof surface, ticking aloud with every bounce. “What’s it like?”
“Seeing myself? Weird.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Roxie pressed her chin into her blanket. He meant having family. Blood relation. “Weird,” she repeated.
“Do you feel different?”
“In some ways.” She felt more grounded than she had in a long time, but if she were to admit the truth, she wasn’t content. She wouldn’t feel whole until she found out why they had been given up.
And why she’d been dumped aside like garbage.
“Do you like them?” he asked.
“I love them.”
“Are they like you?”
“Not really.”
“Good—because that would have been too much to believe.”
He grinned, and she had to smile. It wasn’t a dig. Neither of them was in a mood to fight. It was just such a strange, sensual bubble they were in here atop the building, with a blue tint and quiet all around.
Her gaze ate him up.
He was older now. They’d been teenagers when they’d found one another. He’d been sexy to her then, but he was a man now. He’d filled out enough that he matched his height, and the gangliness was gone. His knuckles were scarred, and his green eyes had seen too much.
But that face.
She wove her fingers together to stop the ache she felt to touch him again.
“How are you, Billy?”
“I’m good.”
Somehow the words fell a bit flat, but she understood. The world had been turning her way recently, but she just felt good, too. She might be on top of the building, but she wasn’t on top of the world.
“I hear you have a big-time job now,” she ventured.
“Have you been asking questions about me?”
She shrugged. “Charlie and Skeeter talk.”
And she listened—especially when she heard his name. She’d been happy when she’d heard he was working on the NASCAR circuit.
He looked out over the water, and the chilly breeze ruffled his hair. He looked pensive. “I’m on Justin Corelli’s crew now. He’s been moving up in the standings.”
“Charlie’s proud of you.”
“Yeah? Well, it’s a long way from Ruckus dishwasher.”
“We’ve both come a long way from where we started,” she agreed.
They looked at each other then and, in the moonlight, his green eyes looked black. So deep, dark, and unending. The air began that pulsing thing it liked to do whenever they got near. It was thrumming inside her.
Goading her and tempting her.
Her toes curled inside her boots.
She should have taken them off hours ago, but the pain in the arches of her feet reminded her that things between them didn’t always end well.
Even if they felt oh-so-good in the midst of the storm.
And she could feel the electricity of one brewing…
Sitting up, she swung her legs over the side of her chair. That insidious breeze slipped inside her blanket, and she shivered. Okay, that wasn’t just nippy, it was raw. “It’s late. We both need to sleep it off.”
When she pushed herself to her feet, he was suddenly there to help her. His hand cupped her elbow, and his big body blocked most of the wind. Even in her four-inch heels, he ranged over her.
Damn, but she wanted to huddle into him. She craved the feel of him wrapping that leather jacket around her, protecting her from the world.
Instead, he brushed his thumb along her jaw line. “Have you been coming up here much?”
Too much to admit.
“I need to start bringing a hot water bottle up here with me,” she teased.
He let go of her chin, but his fingers trailed through her hair. “I can think of other ways to warm you up.”
On a chilly autumn night…
She fought back a moan. Had she wished him here?
She pulled back and made a show of wrapping the blanket around herself. “I’m glad you came tonight, Billy. For Charlie.”
His jaw worked for a second. “Yeah, Charlie deserves some happiness.”
The comment stung, but she reminded herself he hadn’t come for her.
Moving ahead of her, he opened the door to the stairs. Light from the staircase shone out, almost glaring after sitting under the stars for so long.
Roxie squinted and hurried forward. The coziness had disappeared, and tendrils of cold were snaking down her spine. All that talk of warmth hadn’t helped. She moved past Billy as he held the door open for her and navigated the narrow steps that led down to the top floor. Her floor.
The whoosh that came down the flight of stairs when the outside door closed was startling, especially when the building was so quiet in comparison. Silence versus silence. Outdoors to inside, they were different.
With the walls pressing in and everyone bedded down to sleep, she was more aware of her former lover than ever.
She was pulling out her keys when she remembered he wasn’t exactly sober. Turning, she found him right behind her. Her shoulder brushed against his chest and her hip bumped against his leg.
He was warm, deliciously so after being out in the cold for so long.