“What do you think will happen if everyone finds out the truth about you?”

A thousand things he didn’t want to consider.

“You should trust us more,” she said, rising. “Trust those of us who love you. You’re more than your fame, Josh. You always have been.”

Maybe, but was he enough without it?

“Running hasn’t worked so far,” she said as she walked to the door. “Maybe it’s time for a new plan.”

ROBERT INVITED CHARITY over to his place for dinner. He promised a grilled steak and the best salads the corner deli had to offer. Charity hoped that if they could hang out together, talking without any pressure or her being able to see Josh across the restaurant, that she would become more interested in Robert.

His house was within walking distance of the hotel, hardly a surprise, in a quiet residential neighborhood on a golf course. The homes were mostly two stories tall with big windows and well-groomed front yards. Robert’s was no exception, although it looked a little newer and better kept than the others on the block.

“Hi,” she said when Robert opened the front door. “I brought wine.”

“Something I really like in a woman,” he said, taking her hand and drawing her in, then lightly kissing her cheek. “You look great.”

“Thanks.”

She’d worn a short denim skirt with high-heeled sandals and a pale peach silky wrap shirt. Another new purchase designed to show the world, and herself, that she wasn’t always conservative. Buying the clothes had started an interesting ripple effect. When she’d started paying attention to what she wore, she’d found herself thinking about things like highlights and pedicures. She had an appointment for the former next week and would find out if the salon had a nail person while she was there.

She’d visited a large discount store and bought a bunch of new makeup to try, including a honey-jasmine body scrub she’d been using in the shower. It was fun being a girl, she thought, wondering how she could have allowed herself to forget.

“Shall I give you the tour?” he asked.

“I would like that.”

The main floor had high ceilings. The living room flowed into a formal dining room. Both had beautiful furniture that looked expensive. The big TV and high-tech sound system could have been at home in a movie theater. There was a wet bar tucked into an alcove by the hallway, then the eat-in kitchen was in back. The patio beyond held a lush potted garden and a man-sized grill with lots of knobs and storage.

“I can’t help it,” Robert said. “Fire good.”

“Those caveman roots are hard to cut.” She handed over the bottle of wine.

He opened it and poured them each a glass. Once they’d toasted and sipped, they went out onto the patio.

“Impressive garden,” she said. “I don’t know much about growing plants.”

“My mom liked to dig in the dirt,” he told her. “I started helping out when I was a kid. I can make nearly anything grow, which is both a blessing and a curse.” He pointed to a dozen or so small pots suspended on the fence. Each overflowed with some kind of a plant. “Herbs.”

“You grow your own?”

“My ex-fiancée and I did that together. Planted the seeds. Then, when things didn’t work out, I couldn’t bring myself to take them down. They keep growing. I don’t cook much, so I have no use for them. Every few weeks I bring in bags of them to the office. Once you get your place, you can take them home and use them if you’d like.”

“The assumption being I’ll know what they are and what to do with them?”

“They have books for that.”

“Apparently I’ll need to find a couple.”

Was it just her, or was keeping an herb garden born in a previous relationship a little odd? Especially when Robert didn’t use them himself?

Maybe not, she told herself. He was obviously a great gardener. That was nice. She shouldn’t be critical. This was a guy she wanted to get to know better.

“Did your mom have a big garden?” she asked.

“About a quarter acre. My parents were older when I was born. They’d given up on having a kid. Living in a small town, they didn’t have access to a fertility specialist. I’m not sure why they never adopted.”

He motioned for her to take a seat in one of the wicker chairs on the patio, then he sat next to her.

“They were excited to have me, but a little old-fashioned. They didn’t want me to go away to college, so I went locally. Then after I graduated and got my first job, I lived at home for a while. By then Dad was gone and Mom was having trouble getting around.”

“That was nice of you.”

He shrugged. “They were my parents. I had to take care of them. When Mom passed, I decided to leave town.”

“You didn’t have anyone special to keep you there?”

“No. I didn’t date a lot. Mom preferred me to spend my time with her.”

Creepy music played softly in the back of her mind. Charity told herself that Robert was simply that rare breed of good guy, but she wasn’t sure she completely believed it. She’d had enough disasters in her past to look for warning signs. Was there one here or was she simply comparing Robert to Josh?

Figuring out the truth was made all the more challenging by her physical reaction to Josh every time she was around him. No man could compete with that, either, she though sadly. Were the Roberts of the world destined to be outshone by those who were special?

“I like life here,” he said. “No complications. At least there weren’t until we found there was money missing.”

That’s right. The missing seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. “I assume there’s going to be an investigation,” she said.

“It’s already started. The city council is bringing in someone to audit the books.” He grimaced. “It’s a lot of money to be accounted for.”

“Do you have any ideas about what happened?”

“Not a clue. Normally I know exactly when money is coming in from the state. But this time…” He sipped his wine. “Something’s wrong.”

“The police chief mentioned something to me about somebody stealing. We’re having quite the crime spree in town.”

“I doubt they’re related.” He glanced at her. “Those thefts were small amounts. Stuff you get at a grocery store. This is major. Somebody’s going to jail.” He smiled. “Shall I start the steaks?”

“Sure. How can I help?”

“Just watch and pretend to admire my prowess with the grill.”

She laughed. “I can do that.”

THREE HOURS LATER CHARITY walked back to the hotel, fighting the feeling of finally escaping a long duty dinner. As much as she’d tried to enjoy herself and connect with Robert, they had absolutely no chemistry together and very little in common. The herb garden growing on the fence had turned out to be the highlight of the evening.

Robert was a man of many interests. He had an entire bedroom devoted to Civil War battle reenactments. The models were all to scale, with tiny trees and houses dotting the mossy landscape. He’d shown her the mistakes of the Battle of Bull Run, including both sound effects and falling men. She would guess he had a fair amount of money invested in that hobby.

He also had a large collection of action figures, all in their original boxes. It was like a low-budget version of The Forty Year Old Virgin, but without the laugh track. She’d had such hopes for Robert, she thought. Hopes that were not going to be realized. Even without thoughts of Josh tugging at her subconscious, she wouldn’t have been able to fall for a guy who seemed way more interested in his soldier models than in the woman standing next to him.

She walked into the hotel and told herself not to feel defeated. She would find the right guy for her…eventually. If she kept putting herself out there, eventually she had to find the one, didn’t she? Statistically, at least, if not in real life.

She took the stairs to her floor, then turned toward her room. Her mystery guy was out there. She just had to be patient.

JOSH STEPPED OUT INTO the hallway and nearly bumped into Charity.

They both came to a stop. He was aware he was standing too close, he could feel her warm breath on his face. His gaze settled on her mouth, which made him remember what it had been like to kiss her.

“How was your evening?” he asked.

“Fine. Great. I had dinner with Robert.”

Of course she had, Josh thought humorously, but didn’t react in any way. “He’s a good guy.”

“Yes, he is.”

She spoke defiantly, raising her chin as if daring him to disagree with her. Not that he would. From what he knew about Robert, the man was solid. A little weird, but who was he to be critical of anyone? If Charity had found someone, that was great.

Only it wasn’t, and knowing she’d been out with Robert seriously pissed him off.

It wasn’t just Robert, he admitted. It was everything else. The race, how he was stuck, unable to do what he loved. He knew he should just get on the damn bike and ride through the fear, but whenever he tried, he broke out in a sweat and thought he was going to pass out. Then he had to step away to throw up. Not a pretty picture. Or one to be proud of.

“My going out with him isn’t about you,” she told him.

“Never thought it was.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Right.” Now he was pissed. “Have you kissed Robert? Because you sure as hell kissed me.”

She stiffened, then looked around as if she didn’t want anyone to hear.

“That was an accident,” she said, her voice low and tense.

“Right. You fell into my arms and our mouths bumped.”

Irritation flashed in her brown eyes. “You’re not all that.”

Truer words had never been spoken, he thought, then he grabbed her upper arms and drew her in those last few inches.

“Want to bet?” he asked, right before his mouth settled on hers.

For a second, there was nothing. Charity didn’t react, which left him feeling like a complete jerk. What was he thinking? This wasn’t his style. That would imply caring—something he didn’t do anymore.

He was about to pull back, to apologize, when she wrapped her arms around his neck, parted her mouth and kissed him as if he was her last, best hope to survive.

Where there had been only irritation and a vague desire to prove something, now there was need and wanting. His blood heated to boiling. He placed his hands on either side of her face as he kissed her deeply, taking and giving, wanting her to lose herself in him.

She gave as good as he offered, her tongue dueling with his. She squirmed to get closer, which took him from hard to aching. He might not have had sex in a really long time, but he hadn’t forgotten what all the fuss was about. He wanted Charity and he wanted her now.

CHAPTER NINE

CHARITY HADN’T MEANT to kiss Josh back. He was obviously annoyed about something and as much as she would like to think it had to do with her spending time with Robert, she wasn’t to the point of being willing to fool herself. So resisting his pushy kiss was the smartest reaction.

If only, she thought, straining to get closer, to deepen the kiss. Passion erupted with a fury that left her shaken and weak in every sense of the word. There was something about this man—all it took was the promise of a touch and she lost control. She needed his body with an intensity that frightened her. Now, with his mouth on hers, his hands roaming down her back to her hips, she found herself perilously close to begging. More. She needed more.

She angled her head and met him stroke for stroke. His tongue ignited need, fueling the melting. Her skin seemed ultrasensitive, making her aware of every stroke, each caress as he rubbed her arms, then settled his hands on her waist. Her br**sts were heavy and aching. Between her legs, she was already wet and swollen. Ready. Desperately ready.

In case he hadn’t figured that out, she closed the millimeter or two separating them, pressing her body against his. He was strong and broad, but what interested her the most was the thick ridge that settled against her belly. The physical proof he wanted her, too.

He drew back enough to kiss along her jaw before dropping to her neck. Open-mouthed kisses sent shivers of delight racing through her.

Maybe he’d had as many women as people claimed.

Maybe this was a hideous mistake. Either way, she knew she’d never felt such heat before. Such surging hunger. To make sure he got the message, she drew his hands to her breasts.

As his palms cupped her curves and his skilled fingers teased her tight and sensitive nipples, their eyes locked.

She saw an answering fire in his, a desire that eased any concern she had about whether he was just being polite.

As if answering the unspoken question, he grabbed her hand and drew her toward his hotel room door. His key was out, then they were inside before she had time to think. A good thing, she told herself. Thinking was highly overrated.

The second the door closed behind him, he had her up against the wall. He leaned in close and claimed her mouth again. At the same time, he tugged at the knot holding her wrapped shirt, then jerked it open. He half pulled off the fabric, then reached for her bra. It took mere seconds for him to bare her breasts.

Then his hands were on her skin, touching, teasing, rubbing his fingers against her nipples. Pleasure shot through her. She clamped down on his tongue and sucked. He groaned. When she released him, he nipped her bottom lip before dropping his head to her br**sts and drawing deeply on her left nipple.

She felt the pull all the way to her belly. Every inch of her burned. Her muscles tensed. She touched everywhere she could reach—his broad back, his arms, then lower, pressing her palm against his erection. He retaliated by slipping a hand between her thighs. Now it was her turn to groan.