It's In His Smile (A Red River Valley Novel Book 3) Read online

  And walking down Main Street naked from the waist up wasn’t the least bit awkward.

  A chatting couple walked toward them, but their conversation stopped when they glanced up and saw Talmadge without a shirt. If Miranda noticed, she didn’t show it. She just kept dragging him along, still clutching his shirt to her front.

  “Where are we going?” he clipped out through chattering teeth.

  “To your truck.” She didn’t slow.

  Thank God, because he needed to get a jacket.

  She threw a look over her shoulder like she was making sure he was getting with her program.

  He couldn’t hold back a smile. He’d seen the same sexually determined look on her pretty face once before. Seven years ago. And he knew what came with it. Getting naked with her was what he’d fantasized about since he walked out onto the back porch at Bea’s wake and found Miranda on all fours, cracking a smile with her backside. Even though it had ended badly once before—he had enough bad juju going on in his life right now, and God knew he didn’t want to add Miranda to that list of screwups too—being with her seemed right. He just had to make sure she knew what she was getting into first, before they took off any more of their clothes.

  But at the moment he didn’t want to be the one to tell her that. Her sweet ass swayed a few steps ahead of him as she pulled him around the corner of Joe’s with her fingers threaded in his. Though she was just over five feet tall, her personality was large and in charge at the moment, and Talmadge was enjoying the show.

  So was the rest of Red River who happened to be out and about on a Saturday night. A Jeep lumbered past and honked. Talmadge waved. Miranda didn’t seem to care.

  Instead she headed straight to Talmadge’s truck in the parking lot behind Joe’s. She stopped at the driver’s door, clamping his shirt to her soaking chest, and held out her hand. “Keys.”

  He smiled down at her. Even though he was freezing, she was adorable as hell like this. “It’s not locked.”

  “Oh.” She whirled and jerked the door open. Leaned way inside the truck and rummaged around for his jacket.

  Talmadge took in the view. Sweet. Her denim miniskirt rode up, and through the skintight leggings, the nice curve of the bottom of her cheeks greeted him. Miranda wasn’t the vegan-skinny type. She had nice full hips and a round ass that was perfectly shaped. Shapely legs disappeared into the boots just below the knees. And when she turned around with his jacket, her nice rack was apparently ready and waiting for him because she’d lowered his shirt and two proud nipples strained through the wet fabric of her clinging top.

  “Put this on.” She shoved his jacket at him.

  As soon as he had it on, she launched herself at him like she had to have him right that instant. In the parking lot.

  Her full breasts pressed against his bare chest. She felt so good wrapped around him that his arms instinctively closed around her waist and smoothed up her back. One hand threaded into her hair, and he tugged her in so that she stood in between his wide stance. He stared at those lips, the ones he’d been fantasizing about all night, and took her mouth with such force it nearly bowled him over. She whimpered when his hand slid south and found the hem of her miniskirt, then slid up the soft, silky leggings to cup her ass—the other thing he’d been fantasizing about all night—and she shuddered, making those magnificent breasts with their rock-hard nipples brush against his bare skin.

  He let out a tortured moan, and his kiss grew more urgent, drawing another whimper from deep inside her.

  He wanted to bend her over the seat of his truck, hike up her skirt, and give her a whole lot more to moan about, but it was for her own good that they stop, so he broke the kiss and nipped at her lower lip. By the look on her face and her aggressiveness, if he didn’t stop it, they would end up doing it right there in his grandpa’s old truck, and it would be all over the Internet before they could get their clothes back on.

  And she’d hate him. And she’d hate herself. But worst of all, her reputation would be forever ruined in this town because of him. The gossip would follow her around for the rest of her life, like it had her mother.

  She angled her head toward her shoulder to study him, and one of her hands still fisted the shirt he’d given her at the bar. He guessed he didn’t look too convincing about wanting to stop, because she went up on her tiptoes and pulled him into another hot, wet kiss, her hand roaming under his jacket against his bare skin. Damn, he didn’t want it to end. He wanted what she was trying to give him. But not at the price it would cost her.

  He broke the kiss and pulled back to look at her. Lips swollen from their kiss, eyes glazed with lust. Ah, hell. “Miranda, this is a mistake.” The misty fog of their heavy breaths spiraled into the air.

  Had he lost his mind?

  Her lusty expression turned to hurt. “I depend on you for everything. Every single part of my life is in your hands. I’m even ready to get it on with you in the parking lot. And now that I’m willing, you’re pushing me away.” She tried to push out of his arms, but he wouldn’t let her go. “At least you were man enough to reject me before we had sex.”

  “Miranda, you’ll regret it by morning. I don’t want to sleep with you and then have to leave you.”

  Something kicked inside his gut. Leaving her was the last thing he wanted, but that’s pretty much what he’d done the first time, and it was likely what he’d have to do this time.

  Her lips parted for a second like she was stunned. Her hand, still fisting his shirt, pressed to her chest. She tried to pull out of his embrace again, but he was not going to let her go like this. Not again.

  She huffed out a hollow laugh. “I’ll regret it, Talmadge? Or you’ll regret it?”

  “That’s not what I meant. We could work something ou—”

  “You know what? You’re right. I would regret it.”

  “Can I finish a damn sentence, please?”

  For once, she seemed to acquiesce.

  With the pad of his thumb, he traced her bottom lip. “I want you, Miranda. I won’t lie.” And he did. He wanted her so damn much it hurt to look at her. Plus he wasn’t crazy, or dead, or gay. She was a great catch. “But not like this. If we ever sleep together again . . .” If? He was surprised he’d managed to keep his dick in his pants around Miranda this long. “We’re going to spend all night together . . .” He gave her a soft, sweet kiss. “We’re going to wake up together.”

  She drew in a breath and held it.

  “And I’m going to spend hours . . . days, showing you how much I really do want you. Because that’s what you deserve.”

  He placed a finger under her chin and lifted her gaze to his. And hell, he didn’t mean to make her cry, but a tear spilled over and ran down her soft cheeks. He pulled her into his arms and caressed the back of her head.

  “What can I do?” Besides take her home where they could have some privacy, make love to her, and kiss all of her tears and worries away.

  Her crying got harder. “That’s the problem. You want to help me with everything.” She hiccupped against his chest.

  Okay. Helping was what he did best. And that was a bad thing? “I know your situation with the inn is difficult.” He could relate, because his situation sucked balls.

  “Not the inn.” She hiccupped again. “Well sort of the inn, I mean”—hiccup—“you at the inn, and now the gazebo, and Jamie looks up to you and doesn’t need me anymore, and the way you look at me, and the sound of your voice that makes me want to call you in the middle of the night and have phone sex.” Hiccup.

  His hand stilled against the back of her head. “I should’ve been calling you every night.” He couldn’t keep the amusement from his voice. “I’ve never had phone sex.”

  She gripped his shirt, which she still held in her hand, and gave his chest a soft thump. “Neither have I.” Hiccup. “That’s my point. I think of doing a lot of things with you that I’ve never done with anyone else.” That elicited a sniffle and two hiccups. “
It’s just too hard to keep being with you all the time when I really can’t be with you. Not for long, anyway.” Another hiccup. A cute, sweet one that tore at his heart. “And then after you look at my mouth like I’m dessert, you push me away and tell me it’s a mistake.”

  Double hiccup.

  He caressed the space between her shoulder blades and waited to make sure she was finished. When she sniffed but didn’t keep talking, he pulled back. “Feel better now?”

  She shook her head, and her hands eased up his chest, her killer body rubbing up against his.

  “Why did you pick me?” What the hell? He might as well take the plunge while she was clinging to him and acting so vulnerable.

  She seemed to stop breathing, and for a moment, the swirls of fog came only from him.

  With a gentle finger under her chin, he tilted her face up. “Seven years ago. You obviously weren’t drunk, like you said. So why did you pick me to be your first? And don’t change the subject this time.” His tone had an edge to it as he whispered into her hair.

  She clung to his jacket and quietly breathed against his chest like she was afraid to tell him the truth.

  He’d walked away from her once without making her listen to him. Actually, she’d pushed him away, and he’d let her. He wasn’t going to make that mistake again. “Bridget and I weren’t together when I made love to you. I’d made that clear, but she showed up after finagling my whereabouts out of my assistant. I wanted to spend time with you that night, but then you said it was a mistake because you’d had too much to drink, so I left you alone.”

  Miranda stared up at him, her plump lips parted. “Oh,” she finally whispered.

  “Why me? I want to know. I’ve wondered for seven long years, and I’m not leaving you tonight . . .” He stumbled. I’m not leaving you. That’s the part that sounded so right, even if it wasn’t. “Until I know the truth.”

  Another tear fell, and she swiped at it. Drew in a breath like she was about to confess the secrets of the universe. “Because you were leaving to go back to Seattle, and I figured it would stay a secret. I didn’t want it to get around because I didn’t want the same reputation that my mom has.”

  That wasn’t the answer he was hoping for. He actually wasn’t sure what he’d wanted to hear. He pulled back to look at her.

  She closed her eyes tight, like she was gathering courage. Like there was something more she wanted to say. Her lashes fluttered up, and she stared him straight in the eye. “If I had a do-over, I’d pick you all over again.”

  She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

  “If you think that’s going to push me away, you obviously don’t know how fucking sexy it is.” He brushed his mouth across hers to get another taste of her, and nipped at the same spot she’d just been nibbling on.

  “Bridget not being your girlfriend, and me not letting you explain,” she whispered, her voice small and desperate, “didn’t matter then any more than it matters now, Talmadge. Your life isn’t here, but mine is. You’re right, sleeping together would be a mistake that we both might regret.”

  He exhaled. Hard.

  He couldn’t argue with her logic. Even though the bulge in his pants was trying desperately to do so. Yeah, that bulge that didn’t want to admit how starting a physical relationship with Miranda would catapult him to number one on the Top Ten List of Worst Assholes Ever. Unfortunately, he already deserved to be on it, because he’d lied to her about his grandmother’s will. Yep, he was at the top of that list, along with a crooked contractor who would steal a woman’s life savings.

  “I’m invested here and I’m in too deep with the inn. The inn is my only chance to be something more than Red River’s star waitress.” She said it with sarcasm. “And it all depends on you, if the renovations don’t break me first.” Another tear fell.

  “You know I’m not going to repossess the place. It’s yours,” he said.

  “That’s even worse. I won’t take your charity, and don’t you dare pity me. If I can’t pay my own way, then it’s not worth it.”

  Talmadge scrubbed a hand over his face. “That pride of yours is going to ruin you. I get it that you want to earn your own way and not be like your mother. But this is different.” He waggled a finger between them. “We’re different.”

  “If I can’t make this place work, then I’m giving it back to you, Talmadge. You can keep it, you can sell it, you can dismantle it piece by piece and move it to Washington if you want.” Her voice seemed desperate. Hopeless. And it stabbed at Talmadge’s chest. “I’ll accept your help with the renovations because I have little choice, but I won’t let you give me anything.”

  “Bea obviously wanted you to have it, Miranda. The inn was a part of my grandparents, a part of me, but I don’t want it back. I can’t run an inn from Washington.” If he had to sell the place to someone who had no connection to his grandparents, someone with no appreciation for the place it once was . . . well, he didn’t think he could. Miranda was the only person who seemed right to own it . . . the only person who fit there. “The inn would be nothing to me except a sentimental memory.”

  Several creases formed between her beautiful brown eyes, and her shoulders sagged. “That’s the difference between you and me. It’s everything to me. And Bea knew that.”

  And that was the reason the money he stood to gain from this whole venture was prickling his conscience more and more with each passing day. In the beginning, it was business—renovate the inn that his grandmother had already sold to Miranda, then collect his inheritance. Clean and easy.

  He ran a hand through his hair.

  Not so clean and definitely not easy anymore. It was all muddied up now, and somehow, his priorities had become entangled and entwined until he didn’t know what was more important—Miranda and the inn or his life back in Washington.

  Actually, he did know. He just didn’t know what to do about it. “Why not accept Bea’s gift from me? It would’ve meant so much to her.” It would mean a lot to him too, and give him some peace of mind after he went back to Washington.

  Miranda scoffed. “You really didn’t know her at all, did you?”

  His head snapped back at the insult. “Excuse me?” Of course he knew his own grandmother. A hell of a lot better than Miranda did.

  Miranda swiped at another tear.

  “When I turned down her generous offer, she understood it was because I needed to gain the confidence that only comes from a person working hard and earning what they have. The inn will either be a success or a failure because of me alone. And if it fails, it’ll be my failure. Not because of my mother. Not because of gossip. And damn sure not because of a man.”

  She pushed out of his arms and backed away.

  Damn but he didn’t want to let her go. Being with Miranda here in Red River was the only thing in his life right now that felt safe and right. He couldn’t help the pull of desire every time he saw her, heard her purring voice, breathed in her flowery shampoo every morning when he walked into the inn. Fending off the squeeze in his chest when she worked alongside him, putting forth more effort than any construction worker he’d known, was getting harder with each passing day.

  “I’m walking home.” She held his shirt to her chest. “Alone.”

  He shouldn’t let her. But somehow he didn’t think him “letting” her do anything was an option. “Call when you get there? Just so I know you’re safe.”

  She didn’t answer. Just bit her lip and looked up at the stars blanketing the clear night sky.

  Talmadge shook his head. He respected Miranda’s work ethic, but there was a good work ethic and then there was foolishness. “At least tell me what I can do to help you besides the renovations because I don’t know.” Dammit, he’d never figure women out. At least not this woman. But all she had to do was ask and he’d try to give her the moon. He’d do anything she wanted, except the one thing that was beyond his control.

  “Don’t want me.” Her voice shook.

/>   He let out a deep, dismal sigh.

  He was so screwed. Because that was the one thing beyond his control.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Dammit.” Miranda realized her purse was still inside the bar as she walked up to the outside entrance of her suite.

  No way was she going back to Joe’s to face the snickers and stares because she’d acted like a cat in heat in front of the entire town. Because daayum, when Talmadge had taken off his shirt, she’d lost all reasonable thought and dragged him outside with the full intention of getting it on in his truck. She would’ve if he hadn’t been smart enough to stop it.

  One of her friends would realize she wasn’t coming back and grab her purse.

  It took some time to find the hidden key in the pitch dark. She felt under a clay pot, hoping something furry didn’t greet her with fangs. Where was her mother when she needed her set of unique skills? Boyfriend number six hundred and sixty-six had done hard time for breaking and entering. Before he hit the road in the middle of the night with their only television, stereo, and the game system Miranda had worked all summer to buy from a friend, he’d taught her mom how to pick locks.

  Two more pots, one slimy unknown creature slithering across her hand, and several oh shits later, Miranda found the key and let herself in.

  The first thing she did was strip out of her wet clothes and into a cozy robe. Shuffling down the hall to the main kitchen, she grabbed an entire carton of Ben and Jerry’s from the freezer and plodded into the great room, where she plopped down on the antique sofa in front of the fireplace.

  She tore off the lid and dove in with the biggest spoon she could find. The place was coming together. She looked around as she munched her comfort food. The insulation was finished and so was the drywall. The bathrooms were almost done, and new kitchen cabinets and countertops would go in soon. They’d even started hanging new wallpaper.