Chasing Perfect (Fool's Gold #1)(35)

“I know the owner and he’ll deal.”

“Is there anyone in town you don’t know?”

“There might be a couple of babies I haven’t met yet.”

“Life in a small town,” she said.

“It works.”

She turned in the center of the kitchen, admiring the light fixtures, the original doors, the feeling of home and space.

“You’re not the least bit tempted to buy something like this for yourself?” she asked.

“I like where I live.”

“But it’s a hotel.”

“Exactly. No maintenance, cleaning service is provided and I get a break on pay-per-view movies.”

Because he owned the hotel, she thought, trying to keep her attention on the house rather than the man. She was alone with Josh in a quiet, empty space. If she didn’t keep her mind focused, she was in danger of throwing herself at him and begging to find out if he really was a god in bed.

“Don’t you get tired of the room service menu?”

“They take requests.”

“From you.” She shook her head. “A rock star in a small town. I can’t imagine.”

“It has its benefits.”

“And the downsides?”

His gaze locked with hers. “There are those, too.”

Something stirred deep in her belly. Determined to stay strong, she deliberately switched the conversation. “Still riding alone at night?”

He nodded.

“Have you talked to anyone about what happened? A sports psychologist?”

He glanced away. “When it first happened. I’ve seen the pictures, the TV coverage. I know there was nothing I could have done. But knowing and believing aren’t the same thing.”

There was something in his voice, a hopelessness. As if something important had been lost.

“You want to go back,” she said quietly.

“Every damn day. I miss being who I was. Not the fame, but the competition. Winning. The training. I ride here, but it’s not the same. I miss my teammates, the anticipation of the race.”

She suspected he missed the fame, as well. Who wouldn’t?

“You’ve tried riding with other people?” she asked.

He stiffened. “More than once.” He glanced at his watch in obvious dismissal. “We should see the upstairs.”

Without thinking, she crossed to him, then lightly touched his arm. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. The past, I mean. It’s not my business.”

One corner of his mouth twisted into a smile. “I’m not delicate, Charity. You can say what you want.”

She seemed unable to look away from his mouth. The shape of his upper lip, the unexpected fullness of the bottom one. She remembered the feel of his kiss, how she’d wanted to surrender. He was a man with way too much power.

“I’m seeing someone.”

The words fell out of her without warning.

Josh looked more amused than put off. “Robert?”

“Uh-huh. We’ve been out to dinner.”

“I remember hearing something about that. He’s a good guy.”

Now she felt stupid. What had she expected? That Josh would get jealous and tell her to stop seeing Robert? That he would make a move on her?

“Yes, he is,” she said primly. “A very nice man.”

“I hope the two of you will be very happy together.

The upstairs is that way.”

She moved toward the stairs, when in truth she felt like both crying and stomping her foot. She did neither. Instead she followed him to the second floor and tried to tell herself it was for the best. Wanting Josh was a one-way ticket to disasterville. A place where she’d already spent way too much time.

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHARITY WAS LOOKING forward to her meeting with Ethan Hendrix. He was a tall, good-looking guy. He and Josh used to be best friends and ride together. Then Ethan had gotten hurt ten or twelve years ago. The details on the whole thing were vague at best and she hadn’t been able to figure out a way to ask without appearing too interested in either man.

Ethan owned a construction company in town and a wind turbine manufacturing facility about ten miles out. As they were meeting at the latter location, it gave her a chance to actually drive her car for once. At least she wasn’t spending a lot on gas these days. Or wasting time sitting in traffic.

She followed the directions Ethan had given her, turning off at the big driveway leading to Hendrix Turbine. The site was massive, with large warehouse-like buildings and huge towers being loaded onto long trucks.

She followed arrows pointing to the office, then parked and walked inside. A small foyer led into a reception area. Beyond that were offices, desks and computers, with lots of pictures of wind turbines.

She’d done some research in anticipation of the meeting and knew that Hendrix Turbine was a fast-growing company. Wind power was popular, as were windmills. After the initial start-up costs, ongoing expenses were minimal. While wind turbine “farms” hadn’t become the norm, wind power was a great potential source of green power, especially in rural communities.

An attractive woman in her twenties looked up. She was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, and had short blond hair.

“Hi,” she said with a smile. “You must be Charity Jones. You’re Ethan’s eleven o’clock. He’ll be back any second. There was a delivery issue.” She wrinkled her nose as she walked toward Charity. “There’s always a delivery issue.”