Girl Gear 5: Wicked Games (15 page)

The thought shouldn't have tortured her so.

Last night, more than any night she could remember, she'd felt vulnerable, lost and alone. And it didn't matter a bit that she wasn't a woman used to depending on a man. Strong arms still felt damn good when the world was swirling destructively down a drain.

She allowed herself a private smile. Oh, the drama she managed to conjure up. Her mamma would be so proud … right before she smacked Izzy across the back of the head and told her to reel it on in. "This one hit especially hard. The family that was to live here? They were so close to being back together. So very close."

Baron moved into her sunlight; his shadow covered her with
a warmth
of a deeper color and heat. "It'll work out. You'll get it built again. No one got hurt. That's the main thing here to think on."

She nodded, knowing he was right. "Physically hurt, no. I do worry about the emotional pain. How much does it take before a body gives up?"

"It's all about faith."

She turned to him then, shaded her eyes with one hand to look up into his, which were clear and confident and intent on taking her in. He wasn't looking at the destruction that surrounded them but at the personal devastation eating at her heart. "Are you a dreamer, Joseph Baron?"

This time he did glance away, turning to face the nibble and crossing his arms over his chest. His biceps bulged, and his lean stomach lay tight and flat beneath his sleeveless white T-shirt.

She couldn't help but allow her gaze to drift lower, and boldly took in the fullness beneath the elastic band holding his shorts at his waist. He was doing nothing, just standing still, yet he reminded her of how beautifully a man moved into a woman's body.

He started out by shaking his head. "It's like I said last night. I've seen a lot, Isabel. Ray pulls the victims free. Then I have to see if they're worth putting back together." He paused, and she heard him clear his throat lightly. "Making that call can be the hardest thing a man has to do."

His words compelled her to move to him, to slip her fingers beneath his arm pressed tight to his side, and into the warmth of his bare skin. "You're right. No one here was hurt. The building will be replaced, and the loss of this dream will heal."

He was quiet for several long, pulse-beating moments before he spoke. "Yon like talking about dreams, don't you?"

She clasped her other hand to his arm and laid her forehead on the hard muscle beneath his shoulder. "My mamma has called me a fool more times than I can count. She's all about practical doings, not about what her daughter wishes would come true."

Baron uncrossed his arms, disturbing Izzy's anchor, but only for the seconds it took him to pull her into his side. "Dreams are what keep me going. Every time I head out to answer a call, I dream that we'll walk away without losing a single life. Without sacrificing a single limb. If I didn't dream, the reality would shoot me down."

"It takes a special man to do that work."

He shook his head. "Just one with a need to give back."

Erasing the words
soul mates
from her mind, she reached up to hold his hand, which cradled her shoulder. "I hear you about the giving. That's what I
was wanting
to do here. What we were all doing here until two days ago."

"And it's what you'll do again."

She hesitated, sighed, wondering how much of herself she was ready to reveal. "Sometimes I feel like … well, like it's too little, building one home when there are villages in the world without a single roof to cover even the tiniest of babies."

Baron squeezed her shoulder and tucked her even closer to his side. "And what drives you to take on the whole world, Isabel?"

She waited for a moment, not sure she knew him the way she would want to before spilling all of her secrets. "Did you know only Mamma Rose and my Gramma Fred call me Isabel?"

He laughed at that, this time a deep, rolling, thunderous outburst that rattled every last one of her bones. "Izzy just doesn't work for me. I cannot bring myself to call such a beautiful woman by such a … scratchy-sounding name."

"Scratchy?" She pulled her head away and to the side, looking up as he looked down. "Scratchy?"

Again he laughed, with a joy more infectious than the sadness surrounding her in this place. "I should have known you'd latch on to that, rather than the fact that I just called you beautiful."

"Sweet-talkin' ain't gonna get you nowhere, Joseph Baron," she said, but she went back to cuddling against him all the same.

"It sure has worked in the past. Guess I'm gonna
hafta
work on my game, huh?"

Oh, yeah. And she planned to be there for every move he made.

* * *

If Kinsey had ever had doubts as to whether step two in her Doug-trapping plan would be worth sitting through three hours of football on a Sunday afternoon when she could've been taking care of at least a dozen errands, well, she had her answer—even if the Texans didn't win.

The animation that gave Doug the look of a boy at his first big-league ball game had been nothing if not contagious. She couldn't say she'd paid as much attention to the game as he had, but that was okay. She'd had an amazingly great time watching him, instead.

Having known Doug now for three or four years, she'd never questioned that he was a kid at heart. And since she couldn't have taken herself seriously if she'd tried, they got along like Forrest Gump's peas and carrots.

Still, it would have to be an awfully big bowl of vegetables to hold both
Houston
and
Denver
. There was all that real estate, not to mention the other carrots and peas to deal with in between.

She hadn't yet decided on the third crucial step in her plan to convince Doug that he couldn't live without her, but wondered if there was really any need to continue the game. Nothing she'd learned thus far led her to believe he had any intention of changing his mind about leaving.

He'd be gone soon, she'd be auctioned off to the highest bidder and that would be the end of their succotash.

Her plain white
Keds
scuffing along on the concrete, Kinsey walked beside Izzy out of Reliant Stadium, having watched the Texans lose by a last-minute field goal. With Doug and Baron not far behind, the two women headed for the shuttle bus staging area to catch a ride back to the Metro lot where she and Doug had hooked up with the other couple earlier today.

"So?" Kinsey asked, needing a distraction from her depressing thoughts. "How're things going between you and Baron?"

"Is this more of that gIRL-gEAR all-for-one thing?" Izzy asked, gesturing with an expressive wave. "I give you the lowdown on Baron and you tell me about Doug?"

Kinsey shrugged. "There's not a lot to tell. I'm wild for him, and he's moving to
Colorado
."

"Crazy woman." Izzy smacked Kinsey's arm. "Talk him out of it."

"Right." Kinsey dodged a pair of playful boys waving their Texans banners as they ran. "He told me on the drive over that one of the Warren Sill secretaries gave him the grand house-hunting tour."

"Did he buy anything?"

"No."

"Then, as long as that's all she gave him, what's the big deal?"

"He's committed to going."

Izzy didn't say anything. She didn't have to. Her big bad wolf huff blew a hole in the defense Kinsey was building on the fly.

"At this point, there's not a lot I can do except lick my wounds and hope I bring in a bundle at the auction. Otherwise, I'll be a big fat three-time loser."

"And how do you figure that?"

"I told you about the bet Poe conned me into, right?" she asked, and Izzy nodded. "Okay, so I'll be losing out on being the pricey piece I bragged to Poe that I was. Then, on top of being worthless rather than priceless, there's the fact that I'll be out that money. Plus…" This part was the hardest to put into words.

"Plus?" Izzy prompted, when. Kinsey continued to delay.

"Hey, I'm getting there."

"Just making sure."

"Fine. Okay? Fine." Might as well rip out
her own
heart. "I'll be losing Doug. When I first heard he was leaving, I wasn't sure how I felt. Now I do, and I hate the idea. I'm absolutely beyond miserable. So there. Happy now?"

"Happy about what?" Doug asked from behind before wedging between the two women and draping an arm around both. "Or did I catch you bad-mouthing me again?"

Kinsey felt the flush of heat rising from her collarbone to her hairline. She was sure he'd overheard everything and was seconds away from running screaming into the night. "What makes you think we were talking about you at all?"

He leaned toward her, nuzzled the hair above her ear. "The fact that I heard my name."

"Yeah,
dawg
. I heard it, too." Baron moved to Izzy's far side and pulled her closer when Doug let her go. "You women are outnumbered here."

Izzy shook her head. "Outnumbered? Wanna bet?"

"No." Kinsey waved both hands. "No more bets. I'm already on the verge of losing my shirt."

"You mean losing your bikini." Doug,
aka
Dracula, tossed back his head and laughed diabolically.

"What's this about a bikini?" Baron asked, earning himself a punch to the biceps from Izzy as the foursome reached the queue of people waiting for a bus.

"Nothing about a bikini."
Think fast, Kinsey. Think fast
. "I was talking about a bet I made with Poe having to do with the auction."

As the bus pulled up to the gate, Doug lifted his sunglasses to glance down at Kinsey. "You girls really think you can raise money that way?"

"As opposed to a
bakesale
or a car wash?"
Grr
, but she hated even the suggestion of condescension. "First of all, we are women. We are not girls. And second, there are men willing to pay a lot for what we have to offer."

"Yeah, but aren't those men called johns?"

Kinsey ducked from beneath Doug's arm and pushed him away, slugging him soundly in the shoulder when he came close. "You are not the least bit funny."

"Hey," he yelped, hands up, eyes twinkling. "It was a joke, darlin'. I'm kidding. You know I'm kidding. I bet you'll make a bundle. What man wouldn't want to try his luck with you?"

Kinsey didn't even attempt to answer. All she could think of was the reality that Doug obviously wouldn't be there making sure he was the one to win a night in her company.

He'd tried his luck. He'd gotten everything he'd wanted. Given the opportunity, he'd probably personally pass the torch.

Except she had a feeling the idea of the auction was bothering him a lot more than he cared to admit. The way he was acting, the jerk he was being, the teasing that wasn't the least bit funny but rather caustic and sharp, offered more in the way of honesty than his words.

She shoved herself in front of him. They got onto the bus, taking the seats directly across the aisle from Izzy and Baron. Kinsey settled into the one by the window, and Doug slumped back, pressing against her side.

"You do have a seat of your own," she grumbled. She still did not like his comments about girls and johns, even though her true pique was self-directed for allowing him to get to her when she'd known what she was letting herself in for from day one of this ridiculous scheme.

"I like yours better," he stated, tucking her shoulder under his.

"I see," she said, realizing how good he felt beside her, how right, yet bow wrong it was to feel anything at all when guarding her emotions would be so much smarter. "And why's that?"

"Because you're in it."

That was it. She was weak and worn down, and she could not stand how cute he was; she wanted to gobble him up like the hot muffin he was. A hot
studly
muffin. One she was getting too used to having share.

She sighed,
then
sighed again, looking down at his faded blue jeans, which were baggy where they needed to be and snug in all the right places. He'd sprawled out as completely as the seats allowed, one leg in the aisle, one beneath the seat in front, acting like the total guy he was.

She wanted to close her eyes and sleep off this bad dream, but she sensed his stare and turned. "What are you looking at?"

"You. What are you thinking?"

She didn't even hesitate, but forged ahead with complete honesty. "About you. And me. And our incredible knack for bad timing."

When he didn't say anything else, only closed his eyes and laced his hands over his belly, she felt a strange stirring of alarm. Alarm she shouldn't be feeling, because they weren't officially an item.

Their imminent breakup from their unofficial entanglement was just that—imminent. Nothing she could say or do at this point would change a thing.

"What about you?" she finally asked after several minutes of silence. "What are you thinking about?"

Doug turned his head, opened his eyes. Gave her a look that made her want to retract the inquiry because of the regret-filled expression he let slip before his lashes drifted down. Regret that he wanted what she wanted but had no idea how to manage having it all. Then he offered a careless sort of shrug, as if that would rub out what he had revealed.