Enticing Interlude (Tempest #2) (10 page)

“Ok.” He didn’t look at me. His eyes remained on his lap. That wasn’t like him at all, and it was the second time I’d gotten that same kind of vague response from him.

My eyes narrowed. Obviously something was wrong. I didn’t know a whole lot about kids, but I thought maybe if I shared something first then he might loosen up and talk to me. “I don’t know about you, buddy, but I’ve had a really rough week with the band.”

That got his attention. His blue eyes met mine and he slowly blinked up at me. I took that as a good sign and continued, “But I got through it because I’ve been really looking forward to hanging out with you.”

Carter chewed on his lip. I noticed that his bottom one had a few scabs on it. Seemed as if he’d been gnawing it up pretty good. I was fairly certain it hadn’t looked like that earlier in the week.

I decided on the straightforward approach. “Something bothering you, buddy?”

His eyes went back to his lap, and his straight platinum hair swished back and forth as he shook his head in vigorous denial.

I sighed. I was at a complete loss. “If you don’t want to talk about it right now, that’s ok, but if you change your mind just remember that I’m a pretty good listener, alright?”

He nodded.

“Let’s go ahead and give this a try then.” I put my guitar in his lap.

He put his hands in the right position, one on the neck, one on the body, right off the bat. His lips curved into a small smile, and his shoulders seemed to relax a little.

I bet he’d been watching Bryan all week. I scooted in closer, then realized we had a problem. “Uh-oh. I think your fingers are too small for my guitar, Carter.”

“I’m not little,” he protested, his lip jutting out.

“I didn’t mean to imply that you are,” I replied carefully. “We’re just going to have to put off our lesson until we can get you a smaller guitar, one that fits your hand better.”

“Ok.” His disappointment was easy to read. “I wanted to play something for my mom.” He thrust the guitar back at me and turned his head to the side, but I caught a glimpse of the threatening tears glassing up his eyes.

Holy hell.
It definitely wasn’t ok. “How about I show you a few basic chords tonight? And then tomorrow I’ll take you shopping, and we’ll get you a guitar of your own?”

Finally I received a genuine smile. One that lit up Carter’s lightly freckled face and made his eyes sparkle. I didn’t realize how tightly wound I’d been until my muscles loosened in response to it.

We worked together for a while, and I was pleased to discover that Carter was an attentive pupil, listening, absorbing, and applying everything I taught him. I was even able to tease him out of his funk, earning another grin with my efforts. I thoroughly enjoyed the lesson.

When our time was up, I grabbed the guitar neck in one hand and Carter’s hand in the other. “Let’s go find your mom, buddy. I wanna see her face when you show her what you’ve already learned.”

Lace answered the door when I knocked. I smiled at her as I took in her appearance. Obviously she and Bryan had been busy. Her lips looked thoroughly kissed, her hair was messed up, and her shirt was buttoned unevenly.

Lace rolled her eyes in silent response to my quirked brow. “Bridget’s in her room folding clothes,” she told us as she led us in.

Bryan was lounging on the sofa in the living room. He looked like a happy man, and only had eyes for Lace. He put his legs up on the coffee table and patted a spot on the couch beside him. Clearly he was ready to start right back up where they had left off, and Lace didn’t hesitate. Without another word, she rounded the coffee table and resumed her position beside him.

With Carter’s small hand still in mine, I continued down the hall. I heard her as we passed the kitchen and a moment later we traced the sound to its source.

Bridget.

She was whistling the tune to “Blackbird.” Her back was to us in the doorway and her hips were swaying enticingly. I vaguely noted the huge pile of folded clothes on the bed in front of her.

“Hey, Mom.” Carter released my hand and hopped onto the bed.

Bridget’s arms quickly shot out to steady the now swaying pile and kept it from tumbling over. She must’ve sensed my presence because she turned, and her cheeks blushed a becoming shade of pink. “Hello, Justin,” she managed after a prolonged pause during which she reached up a hand and smoothed her hair. The bangs had been slightly mussed as if she’d repeatedly run her fingers through them.

“Hello, Bridget,” I returned just as formally, though I wasn’t pleased that she seemed to want to go back to pretending we were distant acquaintances. She’d have to be encased in glass not to feel the connection between us. “How was your week?”

“Fine, but too long,” she admitted.

“Mine, too,” I allowed, continuing to watch her, wondering why she was acting like this. Carter bounced on the bed. She gave him the same adoring look that I was becoming fond of.

“Carter did real well on his first lesson,” I informed her. “He picks things up with very little instruction.”

“Watch what I can do, Mom.” Carter held out his hands, and I handed him the guitar. He balanced the instrument on his lap and strummed through the chords I had taught him. I took advantage of the opportunity to examine her while he played. She seemed slightly pale beneath her light tan. There were dark smudges under her eyes as if she hadn’t been sleeping well. That wasn’t really surprising. She had to be completely overwhelmed being a single mom in an unfamiliar place with Carter at a new school, and her starting a job. I really didn’t know how she managed to do it all by herself, especially knowing how hard her grandmother’s death had hit her.

The more I learned about Bridget, the more my admiration for her grew. Stronger, more unfamiliar feelings were beginning to grow as well.

Carter gave his mom an expectant look when he finished playing.

“That was awesome, kiddo.”

He frowned. “Don’t call me that,” he muttered in a sullen tone. “I’m not a baby.”

“I know you aren’t.” I could tell from the crease that formed between her eyes that she was just as much at a loss trying to figure out what was going on with him as I was.

“I’d like to take him to the music store in the morning,” I offered in an effort to dispel the tension. I took the instrument from Carter’s outstretched hands. “He really should have a guitar of his own. One that’s better suited to his size. Maybe we could all go together and eat lunch afterward.”

I could tell by the way she looked at me that my offer had the opposite effect from what I’d intended. She’d clearly become irritated. “We can’t afford an expense like that right now, Justin. Not after the plane tickets to Vancouver and everything else.”

I saw the disappointment on Carter’s face as he lowered his head.

She saw it, too. “I’m sorry, Carter.” Her expression softened and she crouched down in front of him, putting her hands on top of his clasped ones. “Maybe we can manage to get one in a couple of months.”

I felt a sharp pain in my chest watching them. This was killing me. “I think you misunderstood. I meant to buy it for him,” I began. “As a gift.”

“No.” Her refusal was immediate, her eyes turning as hard as the aquamarine gems they resembled. “Carter,” she called, but didn’t look at him because her gaze remained locked on mine. “I want you to go in the kitchen and get your dinner. I wrapped it in plastic wrap. It’s on the counter. Sit down and eat it at the table, ok?”

“Yes, Mom,” he replied obediently, leaving the room with his feet doing a slow shuffle, but without arguing. The sad look on his face wrenched the dagger in my heart another turn.

“I appreciate your offer.” Bridget rounded on me with fire shining in her eyes. “But we don’t need your charity. If we don’t have the money for something, we don’t get it. Simple as that. Carter knows the drill. He understands that sometimes we have to wait for things.”

“It’s not charity,” I said spacing out the words slowly while feeling my blood pressure rise. I was starting to get irritated myself. “I like him, and he really does need one for our lessons. We could keep it at my apartment if that makes you feel better.” I took a step toward her, but she backed away. So I followed. We did this back and forth pattern several times with her looking nervous and me determined until the wall effectively cut off her retreat.

I leaned forward, placing my palms on the wall behind her head. While I had her pinned in, I noted how much I liked the difference in our heights, the sweet fragrance of her shampoo, and… well, just about everything about her.

Since I finally had her undivided attention, I decided now was as good time a time as any to get it all out in the open. “I really like his mother, too.” She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and started to drop her chin, but I moved quickly to stop her by skimming my fingers along her delicate jawline and framing her face in my hands.

Eyes fluttering open, she blinked up at me, surprise and maybe something else I didn’t know her well enough to recognize flickering in her gaze.

“You’re working too hard. You’re exhausted,” I said softly, brushing my thumbs across the silky smooth slightly rounded sun kissed surface of her cheeks.

“Can’t be helped.” She slid along the wall, moving out of my reach while her posture remained defensive. “Things have to get done, and I’m the only one to do them.” She was so feminine and yet at the same time trying so very hard to project a tough image. But it didn’t work on me. I wasn’t buying it, or maybe I was just getting better at figuring her out because in that moment I had never seen her look more vulnerable.

That unfamiliar feeling in my chest grew some more, along with a strong desire to come to her rescue and protect her.

“You need to stop being so stubborn and let people help you.”

“Who am I going to ask? Lace is stretched to the limit with school and work at Black Cat, and she and Bryan just got together.”

“Still…”

“Still, nothing.” She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, just like I’d seen Carter do. Only her lips were in much better shape and were sexy as hell, plump and shiny from the moisture of her tongue. I had to resist that voice inside my head that told me to kiss her. I settled for running my thumb along her jaw line instead of taking the taste of her that I wanted. “I can help if you’ll let me.”

She was quiet and motionless for so long I wasn’t prepared for the reappearance of her seething tone. “What do you want from me?” she asked, features hardening. “Honestly?” Her eyes took on an accusatory gleam that I didn’t like and that I didn’t feel like I deserved.

“The usual things a man wants from a woman who intrigues him,” I said softly, moving closer. “A chance to get to know you better, a chance to see where things might go between us.”

She shook her head. “You just want to sleep with me.”

Ok, now she’d gotten me mad. “For someone who doesn’t know me very well,” my voice went even quieter as I tapped down the anger swirling around inside of me, “you’re awfully quick to pass judgment.”

Her body jerked as if I’d just shaken some sense into her. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, her eyes skittering away as if she was unable to maintain her hold on my gaze. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s been a crappy, stressful week. It’s an excuse, but it’s the truth. And you’re right.” Her shining eyes lifted. “I am really tired. Too tired to play these games with you, and not nearly naïve enough. Guys like you don’t go for girls like me.”

“Guys like me?” I wanted clarification. Who the hell knew what she meant by a statement like that.

“One’s with everything going for them. Talent. Looks.” She shrugged.

Ok that was flattering and not at all what I’d expected her to say. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Because of my past. Because of Carter.” Her eyes flickered, that shield of hers dropped and I got my first clear glimpse of how deeply she’d been hurt. “Guys don’t want a relationship with a woman who’s damaged goods, a used toy with too many complications and constraints.”

“That’s bullshit.” It made me angry to see how badly Bridget’s sense of self-worth had been affected by Carter’s father. Mad enough that if the guy had been around, I’d have found it difficult not to wrap my bare hands around his neck.

She stared at me, eyes brimming with doubts.

I was completely out of my element with her. I knew how to get women quickly in and out of my bed, but I didn’t have the foggiest clue how to get one to want to stay there. And that’s what I wanted with her. What I’d been thinking about since I’d looked deeply into her eyes when she’d stood in the hall in Black Cat proudly defending her love for her son and making me want, more than a little bit, to be on the receiving end of that kind of love and passion.

I was going to have to prove to her that I was serious though. Show her that the huntsman could change and be the prince she deserved. Earn her trust. And for obvious reasons, I was going to have to take things one step at a time with her. Tread slowly, carefully, and cautiously, territory that was completely unfamiliar to me. “How about we try being just friends for a while? See how that goes.”

“I don’t know.” Her expression remained skeptical.

“Give me a week, Bridget, as friends, and I promise you I’ll prove that I can be trusted. Then you can decide if we take things any further.” I held my breath watching her while she thought about it. Hoping my expression didn’t reveal how very badly I wanted her to say yes.

She stared at me, eyes searching mine. I don’t know what she saw, but whatever it was must’ve convinced her to agree. She stuck her hand out as if we were sealing a business deal surprising the high holy hell out of me. “Friends it is.”