Three Brides, No Groom. Debbie Macomber
her head and look at him. He was sitting with his arms braced behind him. “You don’t want me to ask you anything?” Surely he would want to know the question and then decide if he would answer it.
His frown was back, darker and more intimidating than ever. “Are you looking for me to apologize for kissing you?”
“No!” If he did, she would be offended. Her response to his kiss had been relegated to the far reaches of her mind. She needed time to analyze what had prompted her heady reaction, but she wasn’t up to a lengthy examination just yet.
“What, then?” He crossed his arms.
She closed her eyes and angled her face toward the sun rather than look at him. “Never mind,” she said, silently laughing at him. “It wasn’t important.”
“Ask me,” he barked.
She rolled onto her stomach and trained her gaze on the ocean. “It has to do with Didi Wilson.”
“What about her?”
Gretchen paused, unsure now that she wanted to proceed, but the need burned within her, and she knew she wouldn’t be completely at peace until she discovered the answer. Besides, at this point she couldn’t walk away from the subject gracefully. She inhaled and held her breath momentarily. “I realize it’s none of my business…”
“Listen, if it has to do with Didi and Roger, I’d rather not—”
“No,” she said, interrupting him. “Not them. This has to do with Didi and you.” Her words were like a hatchet coming down on a chopping block.
His gaze pinned her. She exhaled sharply and blurted, “Have you…did you and Didi…you know…do that?” She couldn’t make herself say the words. Make love. Did you make love to Didi? Her heart was laid open, exposed, revealing everything. Over the past six months she’d frequently seen Didi riding through the campus on the back of Josh’s Harley. Her arms had squeezed him, her ample assets pressed against his back.
Now she knew that Josh hadn’t been Didi’s only love interest. With a shock, she realized that while the news of Didi and Roger had shattered her world, if she learned that Josh had been Didi’s lover, as well, she would be devastated. She should have known better than to ask a question when she was afraid of the answer.
“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to know,” she said hurriedly, then leaped to her feet, kicked off her shoes and raced toward the surf. Her face burned with humiliation, but she had no one to blame but herself. She raced into the ocean, gasping at how cold it was. The surf surged against her thighs before she stopped running. Her pulse pounded in her temple.
“Gretchen!”
She heard Josh call, but she ignored him. The lunch that had made her feel so pleasantly replete now felt like a rock-hard lump in the pit of her stomach.
“Come on, Gretchen, would you listen to me?” He stood at the water’s edge, glaring at her.
“I shouldn’t have asked,” she said. “It was none of my business. Please, I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” She pranced about in the shallows, trying to make him think she was having the time of her life.
“Stop that right now.” It was the same tone of voice her father used to employ with her when she was a child and misbehaving. A tone full of authority she didn’t challenge.
She stopped playing in the surf and faced him.
“Didi’s my friend,” he said. “Nothing more. Never has been and never will be. Understand?”
She nodded miserably.
Josh extended his hand to her in much the same way he had the day before, when he’d invited her to climb onto the back of his motorcycle. “Come here before you’re completely drenched.”
The water was so cold her feet had gone numb. Mustering every shred of dignity she possessed, she remained where she was, her chin angled high and proud. How desperately she longed to believe him!
“Don’t make me come in after you.”
“Would you?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes, but trust me, you’d regret it.”
The threat was as bold as the man himself. “Really?” She reached down and with feigned nonchalance dangled her fingers in the water.
The challenge was there, bold as ever. The confidence he’d exuded didn’t waver as he lowered himself onto the hot sand and removed his boots one at a time. Then he stood and unfastened his belt.
“Josh.” She watched, fascinated.
“I’m not getting these jeans wet. It’s uncomfortable riding in wet pants.” He peeled down the zipper and hooked his thumbs through the belt loops, clearly prepared to remove both his jeans and his underwear.
“Okay, okay. You win.” She raced out of the surf and onto the beach, heading for the blanket. She heard him chuckle and call her a coward as she passed him.
His taunts evolved into a sexy smile as he followed her back to the blanket. It had been a childish thing to do, she thought, challenging him that way. Especially when the outcome had already been decided. Josh would win because he always won.
Soon they were back on the road again, breezing down the highway, soaking up the sunshine and scenery. And she realized he was right. It was uncomfortable riding in wet jeans.
The sun was just beginning to set by the time they reached Newport. Dozens of mammoth kites of various colors and designs battled the wind, rising and plummeting on the fickle fancy of the currents. Campfires flickered here and there along the beach, competing in color with the setting sun.
Gretchen was tired, more tired than she wanted to admit, even to herself. They hadn’t traveled nearly as far as Josh had hoped they would, but then, they’d gotten a late start and taken two hours out for a picnic lunch.
Josh parked the Harley and reached for her hand once they’d stored the helmets. “Let’s get you a hotel room tonight.”
She didn’t miss the implication. While she was nestled up warm in a bed, he would be sleeping on the beach. Alone and cold.
“Hey, I go where you go,” she said.
His eyebrows shot up. “Is that an invitation to your bed?”
She blushed. “No.”
“Pity.” He grinned at her.
Josh teasing? Josh joking? His brief smile went a long way toward lightening her spirits. “You’re nothing but a big phony,” she declared.
His gaze narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Beneath that he-man exterior, you’re a pussycat.”
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t count on it, if I were you.”
“But I already am.”
Once again she found Josh grinning as he located a quiet spot on the beach, one protected from the elements as well as the curious stares of others. Soon they had a fire of their own blazing away. While he unpacked their things, Gretchen smoothed an area of sand and spread the blanket over it. Silently they worked together as a team, then sat down in front of the fire.
“Why’d you want to get me a hotel room?” she asked. They had a wonderful spot on the beach, she realized. The weather was great, and she was as comfortable here as she would be on any bed.
He didn’t answer, and Gretchen, puzzled, glanced at him. “You assumed I need to be pampered, right?” It irked her that he would think that, and her tone told him as much. People often assumed that, because her family was wealthy, she’d been spoiled and coddled her whole life. Certainly she’d been given opportunities that weren’t available to most people her age, but her parents had never overindulged her.
Josh shook