Chasing Perfect (Fool's Gold #1)(22)

She walked by the bookstore but Morgan was long gone. She usually saw him sweeping his front porch and stopped to talk at least a couple of times a week. Knowing he was a part of the landscape of Fool’s Gold made her feel as if she’d made the right decision to move here.

She crossed the street to walk by the park. Even in the dark she could see the shapes of the spring flowers waving slightly in the light breeze.

Tomorrow night she had a date with Robert. They were going to Margaritaville, and while she appreciated the invitation, when he’d mentioned the restaurant, all she’d been able to think about was Josh warning her about the margaritas with extra shots.

It wasn’t Robert’s fault, she reminded herself. Josh was practically larger than life, a force of nature. Someone normal and nice could easily get overlooked. She was determined to make sure that didn’t happen.

She continued to walk by the park. Across the street was the sporting goods store. A flash of movement caught her eye and she stopped when she saw someone riding a bike up the paved driveway beside the store and circle around back. The rider looked amazingly like Josh, except he’d told her he never rode anymore.

Charity crossed the street. She had to be mistaken. Why would he tell her he didn’t ride if he did? What was the big deal? So it was someone else. She just wanted to make sure.

As she rounded the back of the building, she saw a small shed tucked in the trees. The door stood open. As she watched, a man finished pulling on jeans. He drew a sweatshirt on over his head and stepped into boots.

The overhead bulb wasn’t very bright but it gave off enough light for her to identify the man. Josh looked up and saw her.

“You said you didn’t ride,” she told him, blurting out the first thing that came to her.

“I didn’t know you were going to spy on me.” He stepped out of the shed. After closing the door, he locked it behind him, then walked toward her.

He was flushed and sweating, his breathing a little fast, as if he’d just finishing a grueling workout. Nothing about this made sense, but the far more interesting fact was that her curiosity seemed to be enough of a distraction that she could control her reaction to him. Or at least keep it more manageable. The tingles were still there, as was the awareness. But she wanted to know what was going on nearly as much as she wanted to rub against him and purr.

Progress, she thought happily. Maybe in time she would be able to have an entire conversation without hearing her hormones chanting.

“I wasn’t spying,” she said, still confused by his actions. “I saw you go riding by. At least I thought it was you.” The pieces all fell together. “Is this what you do every night? Ride? Are you coming back to the hotel tired and sweaty from exercise? You know, everyone thinks you’re off having sex.”

“Including you?”

“I’m not the one who had a girl waiting in my room.”

He flashed her that killer smile and her knees went weak.

“People would talk if you did,” he said. “In a different way than how they talk about me.”

“I’m sure that’s true.” She studied him in the lamplight. He looked good. Not that she thought there was a time when Josh didn’t. “Everyone said there weren’t any secrets in Fool’s Gold.”

“Then this is the only one.”

“Why do you ride at night?”

He stared at her, as if judging…no, not judging. Gauging. But what? If she could be trusted? If she was really interested? She found herself wanting to urge him to believe in her. She wanted to say she would never let him down.

That was the hormones talking, she told herself, even as she continued to hope he would explain himself.

“I ride at night because riding during the day isn’t an option.”

JOSH HADN’T BEEN SURE he would tell her, but now he’d started and there was no going back.

Maybe he wanted someone to know his guilty secret. Maybe it was how she looked in her jeans and hoodie, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Less proper, more approachable. Not that he’d ever been intimidated by a woman. Maybe it was the way she stared at him as if she really wanted to understand.

She already didn’t think very much of him. Telling her wouldn’t change anything.

“How much do you know about me?” he asked.

She groaned. “Tell me this isn’t about your ego, because if it is…”

“That’s not what I meant. How much do you know about the riding, and why I stopped?”

“You retired. You said so. It’s a young man’s game.”

“Nothing else?”

“Is there more?”

“There’s always more.”

He moved toward the sidewalk. She kept pace with him.

“I ride at night because I don’t want anyone to know I’m still riding. If people see me, they’ll ask questions. They’ll want me to be in charity races or consider going back to it and I can’t.”

“Why not? Are you injured?”

“A kid crashed during my last race. He was a teammate. I was supposed to look out for him. He crashed and he died.”

“Do you blame yourself for that?”

“In part.”

“Was it your fault?”

He stopped walking and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “You ever see a pack go down? One guy wobbles, bumps another and it’s all over for everyone. The only thing you can do is save yourself. I got out and Frank didn’t.”