Seeing Red Read online

  “You wouldn’t give her back.”

  He rubbed his aching head. “In a heartbeat, I would.”

  Summer kneeled in front of him and put her hands on his shoulders, peering into his pupils. “How many of me do you see?”

  “One, which is more than enough.” He grabbed her hand when she would have pulled away. He understood the stress he saw behind her smile, but didn’t like it, nor the fact that he worried so damn much about her.

  Socks jumped up to the couch, twitched her tail and scowled at them.

  Summer ignored the cat, made a soothing noise in her throat at Joe, and sank her fingers into his hair, unerringly finding the nice bump he’d just given himself. “You always had bruises all over you. I hated that.”

  He closed his eyes. “Red—”

  “I cared about you. So much.”

  “And now?” he asked before he could stop himself.

  “I care about you now too.” She kissed his jaw, first one side and then the other, but then rose to her feet and gave him a hand.

  He let her pull him up and eyed the delicate purple shadows beneath her eyes. “Are you off work?”

  She nodded.

  “I have more to do at the office but I could use a fun little run first.”

  She arched an amused brow. “You were going to go for a run. Now. For fun, no less.”

  It felt so good to see her knowing grin, he felt one split his face as well. “You know it. You could come with me.”

  “You, Joe Walker, are a very sweet man.”

  “Sweet?”

  “Oh, is that not a manly enough adjective? How about strong. Smart. Gorgeous. Sexy—”

  “Keep going.” He let her tug him to the front. Camille was gone, and so was Kenny. Summer locked the store up and they dashed out into the rain, which seemed to be coming down in sheets.

  “Darn, I forgot about the storm,” Joe said, tongue firmly in his cheek. “Probably we shouldn’t run in this.”

  “I happen to remember you love the rain.”

  Yeah, he did. In the old days they’d wait out a storm in the back of the library, or the warehouse, or her house. It didn’t matter where. They’d watch MTV or play games or just talk. But he kept the memories to himself as they ran to the parking lot.

  “Your car,” she said, hand out palm up for his keys. “My turn to drive.”

  He grinned. “We drove the truck. Looks like Kenny took it and Ashes. You’ll have to drive us in the Bug. I need a ride home to get clean clothes.”

  She navigated the storm and traffic with easy precision. By the time they parked at the marina and ran down the dock toward his boat, they were once again soaked. “I don’t know…”

  “Baby,” she said. “Get your running clothes on.”

  The sailboat he lived on was forty-six feet long, all sleek polished wood and white trim. Below deck, they stood dripping in the galley that had wood floors, shiny wood cabinets, a wood booth for dining, and a stainless steel sink and refrigerator. The counter was clean except for two cameras he’d left out, which made Summer smile.

  “Make yourself at home,” he said, and tossed her a towel. “I’ll be right back.” He moved through a small archway into the captain’s quarters, slid the door shut behind him, and stripped out of his soaked work clothes.

  “Wow, I’m impressed,” Summer said.

  Butt ass naked, he whipped around, but the door was still shut. The walls were just incredibly thin, and he had to laugh at himself. “Impressed at what?” he asked, rifling through his drawers for something clean to wear.

  “You actually have healthy food in here. Salad makings, yogurt, fruit and veggies—”

  “Why are you going through my kitchen?”

  “Because you said to make myself at home. Ah.” He heard his cupboards opening. “You do have a vice. Frosted Flakes.”

  He pulled on the first pair of sweats he came across and began the hunt for clean socks. “A guy’s gotta have something good for breakfast.”

  He heard her opening and shutting some more cupboards and shook his head. Nosey wench. He’d have sworn he heard the clink of a spoon against a bowl, but that was ridiculous. She’d never stoop to eating Frosted Flakes. It wasn’t green and didn’t have the required amount of good nutrients per ounce. Locating two socks that he wasn’t quite sure were an exact match, he turned around, looking for a shirt. Snatching one off the foot of his bed, he cocked his head at an odd crunching noise.

  Holding the shirt in his hand, he slid open the door between his bedroom and the galley, then gawked at her sitting at his table with a huge bowl of Frosted Flakes, shoveling them into her mouth. She’d stripped out of her sundress, leaving her in the coral tank top and black biker shorts that hugged her hips, leaving her belly bare. The ring there flashed. Her tank was wet from her hair, and her nipples were hard.

  “These are amazing,” she said around a mouthful, dribbling a little milk out of the corner of her mouth, lapping it up with a quick dart of her tongue.

  “Slow down, sailor, we aren’t going to be able to run if you eat that entire bowl.” He felt his body quiver when her tongue darted out again, at the other corner of her mouth this time.

  Her hair was still dripping down her shoulders. If she’d had any makeup on, it was all gone now. Her expressive jade eyes never left his. “We aren’t going to run, Joe.”

  “We’re not?”

  Now her gaze dropped, caressing his bare shoulders and chest, before dipping even lower. “Nope.”

  “You said you wanted—”

  “You. I said I wanted you.” Standing up, she came toward him. She stroked a finger over his collarbone, his shoulder, then his pec, right over his nipple.

  An involuntary hiss escaped him as she slid her wet body up against his. “Red. God—”

  “Remember the other night?” She pressed her mouth to his neck. “When you touched me? When you—”

  “I remember,” he said tightly, his knees wobbling at the feel of her mouth on his flesh.

  “It was the first time since I’d been home that I felt like I could breathe.” She glanced at him from beneath her long lashes. “That was because of you. I want to breathe again, Joe.”

  “You just want the release.”

  “Oh, yeah, I do.”

  He had no idea how he found the strength to put his hands on her shoulders and back away, putting some air between him and her glorious curves. “We’re going running, damn it.”

  Her eyes were dark, and filled with what she wanted, and it wasn’t a little jog. “Stop looking at me like that,” he demanded, fisting his hands at his sides to keep from reaching for her. “I told you. I can’t do this and keep it light with you, I just can’t. Don’t ask me to.”

  She stared at him for a long time, disappointment, regret, and something else crossing her face. She slid the towel off her neck and reached for her dress, which she had lying on the back of a chair. “Don’t worry, Joe. I won’t. I won’t ask you to do anything.” And she headed toward the stairs.

  Damn it. “Red—”

  She kept walking.

  And he let her go. He had to.

  Chapter 16

  Summer drove in the wild June storm, her emotions as battered as the roads. Only for her it had nothing to do with the wind and rain and everything to do with the storm raging inside her.

  Yes, she’d wanted the quick, fast, hard release that she knew damn well Joe could have given her. Yes, she’d gone there for it. Was it such a crime that she found him so deeply, unfailingly attractive? That with him, it felt more right than it had with anyone else in a very long time? That with him maybe it was much more but she didn’t yet know how to deal with that?

  She gripped the wheel tight.

  This sort of a thing needed to be obsessed over, thought about, given its space. She hadn’t given it enough space. It was still too deep and terrifying, and far too real.

  Really, Joe just needed to follow her lead and make do with what