Chasing Perfect (Fool's Gold #1)(43)

“I won’t be going out with him again,” she murmured.

“Good.”

She glanced at Josh from under her lashes. “He, ah, has a fondness for the Civil War. One of the bedrooms is devoted to miniature displays of various battles. There are buildings and roads and little tiny trees.”

His mouth twitched. “I’m sure a lot of research goes into making those.”

“I’m sure it does.”

She shifted so she was facing him, tucking her right leg under her. “Don’t take this the wrong way, because I’m not really a sports person.” She paused. “So how good were you?”

He laughed. “I was the best. Ranked number one, and for a couple of years that was against Lance Armstrong. You name a race and I’ve probably won it. I had multimillion-dollar endorsement deals. I still have a couple. I was on the cover of every racing magazine and most sports-related publications. I’ve been in People’s sexiest issues a couple of times.”

“I read People,” she murmured, knowing she would have looked at his picture as just one of the pretty people who weren’t real. “Now I’m getting scared again.”

“Why?”

“It’s the rock star thing. I never had that fantasy.”

“I can’t play guitar.”

“You know what I mean. The fame. I never wanted any association with someone well known. My life is quiet and I prefer it that way.”

“I’m not famous now.”

“You are, but it’s different here. I told you my mom and I moved around a lot when I was young. All I ever wanted was a place to belong. Roots. Connection. Family. Mostly family. I don’t need to be important to the world. In fact I don’t want that—too much responsibility. But I do want someone to care, if that makes sense.”

“It does.”

THE LAMP BEHIND THEM caught the lighter tones of Charity’s soft brown hair. It played with the side of her face, making her eyes seem larger and more mysterious. She had a look about her, a combination of satisfaction and “what the hell was I thinking?”

Not that Josh had any answers. The sex hadn’t been planned, but it sure had been good. One second he’d been pissed about her date with Robert and how unexpectedly good she’d looked, the next he’d been hell bent for taking anything she offered. He wanted her again, but slower this time. He wanted her in his bed, naked, with all the time in the world to explore her body, touch her soft skin. He wanted to taste her everywhere. He wanted to make her come in a thousand different ways. He wanted to lose himself in her over and over again. So much for being a guy who didn’t ever get involved.

“You have the Hendrixes,” she said. “They’re your family.”

It took him a second to remember what they were talking about. “They’ve always been good to me. Denise wanted a daughter. After three boys she was desperate to try one more time. She really wanted a girl. She got three.”

Charity’s eyes widened. “Must have been a shock.”

“Uh-huh. By the time I moved in, the girls were about three. They were a handful. Still are. Denise was pretty sick after they were born. For a while, the doctors were afraid she wasn’t going to pull through. The boys were scared and there were three babies to worry about. To make the kids feel better, their dad said they could name the triplets.” He grinned.

“That sounds like trouble.”

“Not so bad. They’re Nevada, Montana and Dakota.”

“It could be worse.”

“I heard Oceania was in the running.”

She winced. “Okay, then Montana is a whole lot more mainstream than that.” She looked at him. “You enjoyed living with them.”

“I did.”

“Everyone here has ties,” she said, sounding wistful. “A history.”

Josh swore silently. At times like this, he really hated the position Marsha had put him in. The secret was hers to keep or tell, but the longer she was quiet, the worse it was going to be.

“I think it’s better if no one knows what happened tonight,” he said quickly, to distract her.

Charity’s head snapped up. “What?”

“People will talk, what with you being new and all in town.” He shrugged. “I don’t want anyone to know you’re using me.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Using you?”

“You took advantage of me. Tempted me with your feminine wiles so you could trick me into having sex with you.”

She put her glass of wine on the coffee table and launched herself at him. Fortunately his drink was also safely on the table, so he was able to catch her.

She wiggled and twisted, shrieking, not quite hitting him, but coming close. He wrapped his arms around her and held her still.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m not sure.”

“Because if you were trying to hurt me, you failed.”

“I know.” She shifted so she could glare at him. “I’m not using you for sex.”

“You didn’t even buy me dinner first.”

She shrieked. “You’re the guy.”

“Great. So you not only took advantage of me, you’re sexist, too.”

“Dammit, Josh.” She shoved at his chest, then dropped her head on his shoulder. “You make me crazy.”