Rae, Beverly - Saving Mandy [Night Runner Werewolves 3] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Special Edition) (3 page)

His sheepish expression only ingratiated him further to her.
He’s sexy and sweet. What a lethal combination.

“Uh, I don’t know where he lives. I mean, I don’t know him very well.”

“In a town as small as this one? I’d think everyone would know everyone else.”

He paused, apparently to consider his next words. “Well, yeah, we do. But, uh, we’ve only met in passing.”

“So you don’t know him well enough to pass judgment then.” She had no idea why she wanted to defend her father. After all, he hadn’t done anything to gain her loyalty. Still, maybe the old adage was true about blood being thicker than water.

“You’re right. I’m just going by what others have said.”

None of it any good, she’d bet
.
“Maybe I should find someone else to help me. I don’t suppose you have taxi service here? I have his address.”

He laughed, a full, throaty sound to wet her between her legs.

Good grief, Mandy. You don’t have time for this. Besides, you have a boyfriend. Think about Decker.

She tried, bringing Decker’s rugged face to mind. Yet she’d never had the same primal reaction to her boyfriend that she had to Jimmy. Did that mean something? Or was she merely tired from riding a bus for hours?

“Lost Hills barely has paved roads, much less a cab. But don’t worry. You’ve got the address so I can lead you there.” He laughed again. “It’s not like we can get lost in a town this size.”

“I’d appreciate it.” She glanced around, noting the few cars on the road. “Where’s your car?”

Again, his laughed warmed her in hidden places. “I don’t have one.”

No car? He can’t mean he doesn’t have a car at all. Who doesn’t own a car in
Texas
?
“You mean you don’t have it with you, right?”

“Riiight.” He averted his gaze, giving her the impression he’d kept the whole truth to himself. “I didn’t bring it into town today.”

“So you don’t live here?” What was with this guy? One moment he was so open and friendly. Then, in the next, he was guarded.

“Naw, I live a few miles out.” He took her suitcase from her, turned, and waited for her to fall into step beside him.

“Then how did you get here?” She smiled, trying to make her questioning seem less like an interrogation. “What’d ya do? Run?”

He slammed to a stop then made an exaggerated face. “Of course not. Who would run on a hot
Texas
day? I, uh, hitched a ride into town.”

“So you don’t own a car at all? Oh, I’m sorry.” She touched his arm and a tingle zipped into her skin. A tingle as strong and as enticing as the one she’d gotten when she’d shaken his hand. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. You know, like you’re weird or something not to own a car.”

Damn, but I love his laugh. I bet he gets as many girls as he wants with his laugh alone.

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t own a car because I’m putting all my money into school right now. Besides, I like to r—uh, walk.”

“You’re in college? Me, too.” She tried to watch him without staring. But the way he moved, easy yet with an underlying edge of something wild, drew her attention back. He carried her heavy suitcase as though it were empty instead of crammed with as many clothes as she could fit into it. The jeans and simple cotton T-shirt he wore fit his body in all the right places, not too tight, but close enough to give her a good idea of the lean form underneath. But it was his soft, hazel eyes that took her breath away every time he looked her way.

Keep it light. And remember. You have a boyfriend.

“What are you studying?” Several people nodded their heads at her, their friendly, open expressions changing to wary ones when their gazes shifted to Jimmy. She watched for a reaction from him, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m doing my work online. We don’t have a college within walking distance.”

“Sure. Online colleges are very big right now.” Did she sound patronizing? “Have you ever thought about going away to college?”

He shook his head. “Nope. I like it here.”

They passed by several small shops, their wares displayed in sparkling clear windows with
Welcome
signs posted on each door. Women, their hair in curlers, spied out the window of the hair salon, their heads bent, their mouths moving at the same time. She gave them a quick wave, and they startled, then waved in return.

“Don’t they know we can see in just as good as they can see out?”

“What? Who?” He followed the slight tilt of her head. “Oh, them? I don’t think they do. Until you let them know you see them watching you.”

His voice had a hitch in it, at once intriguing and worrying her. “Do you get watched a lot?” Not that she could blame the ladies for keeping him in their view.

“More than I like.”

A comfortable silence fell between them. An easiness she’d never had with Decker. How could a man she’d known for a few minutes make her more relaxed than her boyfriend of several months? With Decker, she’d always attributed the nervousness he gave her as a sign of attraction. Yet the attraction she got from Decker was nothing compared to her attraction to Jimmy. Could she have gotten it wrong?

He quickened his pace, rounding the corner onto the next block. “
Garland
’s house is the one at the end of the street.”

She forgot about the busybodies, her heart skipping a beat. How many times had she thought about the moment when she’d see her father? Her memories of him were vague—a playful pull on her ponytail, a sharp word when he was “sick” after a long night of “working”—but they’d sustained her for many years. Now that she was about to meet him again, she wasn’t sure she wanted reality to take away the few good memories she had of him. She slowed down, then came to a stop.

“Mandy, are you okay?”

His hazel eyes darkened, somehow adding points of amber to the green and brown mix. “Uh-huh.”

He dropped the suitcase and took her hands. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Was she? Yet if not now, when? She nodded, her words blocked by the sudden lump in her throat.

“Then you should prepare yourself.”

She searched him, wanting to find the answer to her unspoken question. Was her father really that bad?

“He hasn’t maintained the home. Truth is, it’s more of a dump than a house.”

She could handle a run-down home. But her father? Could she handle whatever her father was?

“Listen. Would you like to take a day or so and give this more thought?”

His suggestion startled her. “No. I’ve come too far and waited too long.” She let go of his hands, sucked in a ragged breath, then took a step forward, ready for whatever would come.

Jimmy moved with her, taking her by the arm. Again, the electricity flowed from him into her skin.

“Okay, but before you do…” He leaned forward, catching her off guard and sending her already frayed nerves into overtime. “Would you like to go out tonight? Grab a little dinner? I could borrow a friend’s car and take you to the movies? It’s about an hour’s drive, but worth—”

“No.” She hadn’t meant for her refusal to come out so harsh, but she couldn’t take it back now.

He jerked backward as though she’d struck him. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sure you’re a nice guy and all, but I can’t.”

She hated to see the way his face dropped, hated not accepting his offer. But what would Decker say? Would she want him going out with other women?

I don’t think I’d mind. Wow.

Her response surprised her. She wouldn’t mind if Decker didn’t stay exclusive to her.

“Can I ask why?”

He was persistent, bordering on pushy. “Ask away, if you want. I don’t, however, owe you an explanation.”

Damn. If it wasn’t for Decker, she’d say yes in a flash.

“You’re right. You don’t.” He touched her cheek, his gaze lingering on her lips. “But I’d still like to know.” His face clouded, sadness enveloping him. “Please tell me you aren’t involved with anyone.”

His gaze dropped to her left hand, his body stiffening then relaxing. She wanted nothing more than to press her lips to his, hold her body against his, and wrap her legs around his waist. “Sorry. But yes. I am.”

He lifted her left hand and rubbed his thumb over her ringless fourth finger. Turning her hand over, he placed a tender kiss in the middle of her palm. “You’re not married.”

Aw, hell. He’s hot and romantic rolled into one hunk of a man.

“No. Not yet.”

“A boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

For a moment, his body slumped, defeated. “Are you two serious?”

Were they serious? Decker seemed to be. But did she want to get serious with Decker? Or was her reluctance the reason why she’d thwarted his advances to have sex? “Kind of.”

He straightened to his full height and grinned at her. “You haven’t gone to bed with him, have you?”

“Wow, talk about putting your nose in where it doesn’t belong. What I have or have not done with my boyfriend is none of your business.” Then why did she want to tell him that she’d kept things platonic?

“I don’t think he’s much of a boyfriend letting you travel to a strange town to meet a father like yours.” He winced at her glare then added, “No offence meant about your dad.”

Who was he to criticize Decker? She owed Decker a lot, more than enough to stand up for him now. “He’s a good boyfriend. He treats me right and he’s helped my mother more than anyone ever has. But again, it’s none of your business.” She closed in for the real jab at him. “And for your information, no one
lets
me do anything. I make my own decisions, and I choose not to go out with you.”

“Aw, hell. Looks like I’m always apologizing, but—”

“Thank you for your help, but I can go the rest of the way on my own.” She picked up her suitcase where he’d dropped it, steadied it in her hand, and whirled away. Not giving him a chance to argue, she strode down the cracked pavement toward her father’s house.

She neared the old home, taking in its run-down condition. Trying not to second-guess her decision, she marched up the rickety steps to the front door. She lifted her hand, ready to knock, then dropped it back to her side.

The peeling paint, spiderwebs, and dead grass surrounding the house hadn’t kept her from marching up the uneven stone path to the front door. So why couldn’t she knock?

Mandy lifted her hand, telling herself she would lift the knocker and do it this time.

“Mandy
Garland
, you’re a coward.”

Instead of goading herself into action, saying the words only made them more real. Her life would change once the door opened. But would it change for the better? Or for the worse?

What if he was as terrible as Jimmy and her mother said? What if he was still a drunk? What if he didn’t even remember her?

For the first time, she regretted not getting in touch with him before traveling to Lost Hills. But she hadn’t wanted to give him a chance to tell her not to come. Problem was, he could still tell her to go home. What then?

Determined, she lifted the door knocker and rapped it four times. Chips of paint fell to her feet along with the nail holding one side of the knocker. The rusted piece of metal hung from the remaining screw and rocked back and forth.

She waited, letting several minutes pass until she tried again. The knocker gave up the fight and dropped to the warped boards below.

“Damn.” She bent to retrieve it just as the door swung open.

Bare feet, looking as though they hadn’t seen water in weeks, caught her focus and, for a half a minute, she considered staying in a crouch so she wouldn’t have to face the owner of such filthy feet.

“I ain’t buying nothing.”

She closed her eyes, gathered her strength, and stood. The smell hit her before her mind could take in the sight of the bedraggled man. Alcohol mixed with tobacco and body odor swept over her, almost bringing her to her knees. Yet the stench was nothing compared to the man himself. Purple-green bruises covered one side of his stubble-covered face and neck.

I should’ve stayed down. Oh, my God, his breath.

But it was too late. Her father, an older, grimier version of the one photograph her mother had shared with her, glared at her with bloodshot eyes. He held a bottle of a clear-colored liquid in one hand and a cigarette caught between the index and middle finger of the other hand.

“Are you all right?”

“What’re you talking about, girl?”

She pointed at his face, at the bruises slowly healing. “What happened to your face?”

He grumbled a curse word, then added, “None of your damn business. Like I said, I ain’t buying nothing.”

“I’m not selling anything.”

He frowned, and the lines in his forehead reminded her of the folds of a shar-pei’s face. Unlike the cuddly dog, he didn’t evoke any emotions of love or happiness. “Then what the hell do you want? If that damn mayor sent you, you can tell him to go to hell. ’Less’n he wants to pay to paint my house and plant my yard.”