Blue Colla Make Ya Holla (64 page)

Joanne sat quietly for a minute, considering his words. “You think I’m using you to try to get Stan back?” she asked in a small voice. Nate sighed again. She felt his chest rise against her back and then air tickled her hair as he let it out.

“I admit the thought crossed my mind. Even if you don’t seem the type.”

Letting go of his hand, she turned in his arms to face him. “I wouldn’t take Stan back even if he finally admitted what he was doing was wrong,” she stated emphatically.

The sparks of anger he saw in her eyes made him smile. She meant what she said. He could see the truth of it.

“That son of a bitch…Ooph, I don’t even want to think about him anymore. He’s taken up far too much of my life as it is. No more.” She settled back down in his arms. “Tell me more about your life. I still know so little.”

They sat on the couch for a long time, just talking. When the conversation slowed, Nate realized Joanne was practically asleep in his arms. He brushed a hand down her cheek, and she turned her face into his touch.

“Joanne?”

“Hmm?”

“I should go. You’re exhausted and you need some sleep. You’ve had a long weekend.”

Joanne pushed herself away from him and stretched. Glancing at the clock, she realized they’d been talking for hours. She’d been so comfortable, she hadn’t realized how late—or how early, rather—it was. The red numbers blinked 4:13 a.m. She hated to kick him out, especially after all he’d done for her.

“You need sleep too. You can sleep on the couch if you want. Then I can give you a ride wherever you need to go tomorrow.”

Nate thought about her offer. He was exhausted. Controlling his libido all night had taken a lot of effort. And sitting with Joanne nestled against him had almost put him to sleep too.
It’s just the couch,
he reasoned.
I won’t even be in the same room with her. Surely I can resist the urge to join her in her bed for a few hours.
“Are you sure?” he asked.

She nodded and stood, pulling and adjusting her bridesmaid’s dress. She looked mussed and ragged, but she still looked beautiful to him, and he smiled at the image.

“Let me get some blankets,” she said and left the room. She returned a few minutes later, arms full. Nate stood and took the linens from her. “There’s a sheet, a couple of blankets, and a pillow.” She pointed down the hall. “You already know where the bathroom is.”

Nate sat the linens on the couch. “Thanks,” he said.

“Um, I don’t have any pajamas or anything for you.” She glanced at the floor, embarrassed to even say it.

“That’s okay. I wear boxers,” he informed her.

Joanne looked at him, surprised. “Oh…” Her voice trailed off as his words sunk in. She pictured him standing in front of her in just boxers. His bare chest. His trail of hair disappearing into the waistband. His muscular thighs. “Ah…” She couldn’t seem to find her voice, and she turned away, trying to banish the images from her mind.

Nate laughed at her reaction. He turned her back around to face him and tilted her head up to his. “Goodnight, Joanne,” he said softly.

Before she could reply, his lips descended to hers. His lips feathered across hers in what could barely be called a kiss. The fire that had been smoldering her in belly suddenly flared back to life, hotter than ever. Just as she was reaching to deepen the kiss, he pulled away. Joanne tried to catch her breath. He dropped his hands and stepped back while she searched his face. She could see that he still wanted her. He had more control than she did. She was ready to jump him once again. “Goodnight,” she managed to whisper. She turned and started up the stairs. As she made her way to her room, she touched her lips, remembering the feel of his touching her. She didn’t know how she would ever manage to get to sleep.

‡

J
oanne rubbed her
eyes as she made her way downstairs. After tossing and turning for what seemed like forever, she had finally managed to fall into a fitful sleep for a few hours. She wondered if Nate had had the same troubles.

As she came off the stairs, she paused at the view into the living room, shocked. Nate lay on the couch on his back, sound asleep. Oliver Twist was curled up on his chest, and Nate had one hand resting over the cat. Nate must have done some smooth talking with Oliver after she had gone to bed. The cat didn’t usually like men, yet here he was, obviously content. She smiled at the image they made. Nate was much more soft-hearted than he let on.

She took a step into the living room, and Oliver lifted his head, blinking up at her. “Go back to sleep,” she whispered to the cat, and he laid his head back down. She could hear the cat’s purrs from across the room. Still smiling, she headed for the kitchen, determined to let Nate get a few more minutes of sleep.

Before she could go any further, there was a pounding on the front door. She hurried to the door before the visitor could wake Nate and her grandmother. Pulling the door open, she saw Stan, still in his tux from the wedding. Sometime while she slept, it had started raining. Stan stood there, soaked, in the deluge.

“Stan! What the hell are you doing here?” she hissed, trying to keep her voice low.

Stan opened the screen door still between them and reached for her. She put a hand on his chest to push him away and took a step back.

“Joanne, please. I need you. I can’t live without you.” His voice was slurred, and Joanne knew he’d been drinking all night.

“It sure didn’t look that way last night. You looked quite happy with all those other women.”

“I was just using them to try to forget you,” he shouted.

Joanne glanced behind her, hoping his noise hadn’t woken anyone. “Stan, please leave. You’re not welcome here,” she stated as calmly as she could with her heart pounding in her chest.

“No! Not until you listen to me.”

With that, Stan began to sing a love song in a loud and very off-key voice. Joanne winced. Stan never had been very romantic, and he obviously didn’t realize he wasn’t doing himself any favors by trying it now. Joanne heard footsteps behind her. Before she could turn, she heard a sleep-roughened voice near her ear. “What’s going on?” Nate asked.

Stan’s singing stopped when he saw Nate. His eyes widened as his gaze raked them both up and down. Glancing back at Nate, she realized what Stan saw. Nate stood beside her in nothing but his boxers. His hair stuck out every which way. She was still in her camisole and shorts PJs. They both looked like they’d just gotten out of bed.

Sneering, Stan gestured toward Nate. “What the fuck is he doing here? How could you cheat on me like this, Joanne?” Stan stepped closer, raising his fist as if to punch Nate.

“Hey!” Joanne yelled. Suddenly, the anger towards Stan that she’d held in check burst forth, and she found a strength she didn’t know she had. She slammed both palms against Stan’s chest and shoved. Shocked, Stan backed up.

Joanne didn’t stop. She could no longer dam up the emotions that were flowing. “You have no right!” she screamed. “I did not fucking cheat on you, you son of a bitch. You’re the one that cheated on me.” She shoved again, and Stan stepped off the stoop into the yard. Still, Joanne followed him, not caring that she was also getting soaked. Her anger burned in her, hot enough to keep her warm even in the cool spring rain. “You are the lowest, dirtiest slime bag. I can’t believe I never saw who you really are.”

The tears came then, but still she shouted, her words starting to lose coherence as her emotions took over. Shoving again, Stan kept retreating, which was exactly what she wanted him to do.

Finally, Stan grabbed her wrists to keep her from shoving him again. His lip turned up in disgust as he looked at her. “You’re not the girl I fell in love with. The old Joanne would never have acted this way.” He gave a little push as he let go of her wrists. Joanne’s bare feet slipped in the mud as she lost her balance, and she fell backwards, landing on her back.

Nate had stood in the doorway, not wanting to interfere in Joanne’s business.
Besides
, he told himself,
she’s kind of cute when she’s angry
. As soon as he saw her start to go down, he rushed outside in spite of his previous reluctance. Stan just stood there, staring down at her as she lay in the mud.

“What the fuck, man? You’re not even going to help her?” Nate squatted down to help Joanne to her feet.

“Why? This is all her fault. She got herself into this mess.”

Nate turned on Stan then, ready to give him a piece of his own mind. Joanne put a hand on his arm and he pulled up short.

“He’s not worth it,” she said to Nate. She tried to push the wet strands of hair out of her eyes but only managed to get mud on her face. “Leave, Stan. I don’t want to see you again.” Grabbing Nate’s arm, she turned away to go back into the house.

Joanne stopped suddenly when she saw her grandmother standing in the doorway holding Oliver. In spite of the image they must have made—half dressed, muddy, and soaked—her grandmother had a wide smile on her face. “Joanne? What have you gotten yourself into now?”

“Sorry, Grannie. I hope we didn’t wake you.”

Her grandmother backed up as they came into the entryway. “My, what a sight,” she said as she eyed Nate appreciatively.

“Grannie!”

“What? I may be old, but I’m still human.” She laughed at Joanne’s shocked look. “Go get cleaned up. There’s extra towels in the upstairs bathroom. I’ll make coffee.”

Before Joanne could thank her, she had disappeared into the kitchen. Vera hummed a tune over the sound of cabinet doors opening and closing.

“Come on,” Joanne said. She led the way upstairs and to the bathroom. Nate watched as she opened the linen closet and pulled out a couple of towels. She could feel his eyes on her, and she tried not to feel self-conscious in her disheveled state.

“Take your time. I’ll go shower downstairs,” she told him. She refused to look at him. She didn’t know what he was thinking about her, and she didn’t want to care. In spite of herself, though, she did care. She cared what he thought.

“Joanne,” he said softly. She stopped but still didn’t look at him. He was blocking the door, and she would have to brush by him in order to leave. The thought of touching him made her shiver, and she closed her eyes. Her emotions were still running high, every nerve on edge. Her body strained toward him, and her resistance started to crumble. Taking a step closer, he brushed her hair back. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” she managed to say.

“The fall didn’t hurt you?”

That question made her look up at him. It wasn’t what she’d been expecting him to ask. “Oh, no. I can be clumsy like that.” She tried to laugh, but it came out strangled.

Nate put his hands on her shoulders and caressed her neck with his thumbs. “You didn’t have to protect me.”

“I wasn’t protecting you. I just couldn’t take his lies anymore.” Her eyes fell to his chest where the scratches from Oliver still showed against his tanned skin. Had that really been only two days ago? It felt like it had been an eternity. Without thinking, she reached up to touch them. “I can’t believe it’s only been a few days.” She felt his heartbeat under her fingers as she traced the wounds.

Nate clasped her hand, stilling it against his chest. He crowded her against the sink with his body. “I can’t either.”

Joanne looked back up into his eyes. They were darkened with desire, but he didn’t press her. Her eyes drifted to his lips, and her urge to kiss him grew.
Am I ready this time?
Sure, last night had probably been a mistake, and she was grateful that he had the foresight to stop before she did something she might have regretted. But this morning her mind was clear. She was over Stan. After the way he treated her earlier, she wouldn’t take him back if he were the last man on earth. Did she have the nerve to take another chance with Nate?

“Joanne.” Her name whispered from his lips, and she threw any reservations she still had out the window.

Pressing her body against his, she kissed him. He didn’t hesitate this time. He returned her kiss with more passion than she had expected. She opened her mouth to him and let him take control. Her arms wrapped around him and explored the skin of his back until she found the waistband of his boxers.

Slipping her hands under them, she squeezed the tight muscles of his ass, pulling him closer to her. Nate groaned. She smiled into his mouth at the thought that she could do that to him.

He pulled his mouth from hers, his breathing ragged. “What’s so funny?” he ground out.

She shook her head. “Nothing. I just like your reaction.”

Nate took her hand and rubbed it against his erection. “This is my reaction to you, sweetheart.”

“I know.” She pushed at his boxers, trying to get the wet, clingy cotton down his legs. “I want to see you, Nate.”

“Are you sure, Joanne? I don’t think I can stop this time.”

She look him directly in the eyes. “I’m sure.”

Before she could catch her breath, Nate had stolen her lips in another searing kiss. His hands went to her waist and tugged at her cami. She stopped struggling with his boxers long enough to lift her arms so he could pull it over her head.