One Good Man Read online

  And that scared her even more than the physical desire he’d stirred in her. She’d had one disastrous sexual encounter in her life. But she’d had absolutely zero experience in falling in love. Her growing feelings for Jeff made her so crazy that one minute she never wanted to see him again and the next, she longed for his company so much she ached.

  After his crazy promise to ease her workload so she could spend a day with him, she’d expected him at least to seek her out and speak to her this morning when he’d dropped off Daniel—along with crates of freshly picked lettuces, herbs and eggs from the farm. But Jeff had come and gone before Jodie had realized he’d been there.

  And when she’d learned that he’d left without even saying hello, she hadn’t known whether to feel relieved or annoyed. Definitely relieved, she decided now. If Jeff brought Daniel and supplies every morning, she’d be better off not encountering the tantalizing ex-Marine on a regular basis. If her infatuation really was developing into deeper feelings, maybe avoiding him could head them off.

  The telephone rang, most likely one of Brittany’s friends calling. She let her daughter answer the phone in her bedroom. If Jodie didn’t tackle her paperwork now, she’d be up all night.

  “Mom,” Brit hollered from her room that fronted the main street, “it’s for you.”

  Wishing she’d insisted that the answering machine take the call, Jodie grabbed the kitchen extension. She didn’t have time to chat, and the only people who ever phoned, besides Merrilee, who was on her honeymoon, were her mother and Brynn, both marathon talkers.

  “Just calling to see if you’re home.” Jeff’s deep voice filled her ear.

  “Obviously,” Jodie dryly, “or I wouldn’t be answering this line.”

  “Then you’d better open your front door.”

  “What?”

  “I’m downstairs on my cell phone. I have a delivery.”

  “The café’s closed for the night.”

  “It’s not for the café. It’s for you.”

  “I haven’t ordered anything.”

  “Remember my promise?”

  She grinned. He’d promised the impossible, to ease her workload, and had come to admit defeat. “Backing out?”

  “Marines never retreat. I’m here to keep that promise. Will you let me in?”

  Jodie had the perfect excuse. “I can’t. I still have the day’s receipts to add up—”

  “All the more reason you need what I’ve brought. Besides, the ice cream’s melting.”

  “Ice cream?”

  “Homemade with fresh cream and wild blueberries.”

  Jeff’s voice was seductive, enticing, and a physical hunger curled in Jodie’s stomach.

  “Trace made it,” he said, “and the ice it’s packed in won’t last forever.”

  “I really do have to work.”

  “Eat some ice cream, see what I’ve brought and then you can throw me out, if you like. I won’t take much of your time.”

  Unable to think of further excuses, Jodie hung up the receiver and sprinted downstairs toward the café’s entrance. Through the double doors she had a full view of Jeff, standing in the summer twilight. He looked more handsome than any man had a right to with his bronzed face lit by the setting sun, his hair tousled by the wind, his broad shoulders straining the fabric of his windbreaker, snug jeans molding his thighs, and each hand holding a bulging shopping bag.

  Dizziness assaulted her. If Jeff was eye candy, she’d just suffered a sugar overdose.

  She unlocked the door and nodded toward the bags. “Looks like you brought enough ice cream for a Marine platoon.”

  His face broke into a smile that warmed the cool gray of his eyes, produced a fine web of wrinkles at their corners and sent a shiver of delight down her spine. “You can never have too much ice cream.”

  “Spoken like a true man. Women worry about the calories going straight to their hips.” She stood aside for him to enter, locked the door behind him and preceded him up the stairs to the apartment. She could feel his laser gaze locked on her back.

  “From my point of view—” approval heated his voice “—the ice cream’s no threat. Your hips look just fine.”

  Jodie suppressed a groan. She still wore the grubby jeans and faded shirt in which she’d cleaned the floors, and her hair looked as if she’d styled it in a hurricane. Just as well that she wasn’t dressed to kill, she assured herself. If she didn’t want to encourage Jeff, he might as well view her at her worst. Maybe then he’d give up his ridiculous crusade to spend time with her.

  At the top of the stairs she stepped to one side and motioned him into the family room. “You can put the bags on the kitchen island.”

  He set down the plastic carryalls and glanced around. His eyes widened with apparent surprise. “This is a great space. Your view’s incredible. Last time I was in this room, it was filled with junk, old furniture, appliance parts and newspapers. Mr. Weatherstone never threw anything away.”

  “Unfortunately, that unpleasant task was left to me.” Jodie glanced at the bag. “Should I put the ice cream in the freezer?”

  “What ice cream?” Brittany, waving her hands to dry her nail polish, came up the hall. “Hi, Mr. Davidson.”

  “Hi, Brittany.” Jeff reached into the first bag and removed a gallon-size Tupperware container. “Trace made ice cream. Remember that pool in the creek behind our place?”

  “The one with the tadpoles?”

  Jeff nodded. “We found wild blueberries growing along the banks. Trace added them to the ice cream. Want a sample?”

  “Sure.” Brittany hesitated and looked to Jodie. “Is it okay, Mom?”

  Jodie had hoped to refrigerate the dessert and send Jeff on his way, but Brittany had worked so hard today, Jodie couldn’t deny her daughter the treat. “Get bowls, a scoop and some spoons. Mr. Davidson can serve.”

  “First things first.” Jeff dug into the second bag and retrieved two bouquets of flowers. He handed Jodie a profusion of red and gold zinnias, yellow snapdragons and old-fashioned coral roses. “For you.”

  “They’re lovely.” Jodie buried her nose in the fragrant blossoms to hide her surprise at his gift.

  “They’re from Ricochet,” Jeff added. “He wanted me to ask if you’d like him to provide flowers for the café tables.”

  Jodie mentally smacked herself for misinterpreting the bouquet. The flowers weren’t a symbol of Jeff’s feelings, just another business proposition. “I’ll consider it,” she said.

  Jeff presented the second bouquet, an arrangement of pink phlox, Queen Anne’s lace and pale-pink roses to Brittany. “Daniel sent you these.”

  Brittany’s face matched the rosy hue of the flowers. “He did?”

  “They’re a thank-you,” Jeff explained, “for teaching him the ropes in the café.” He reached deeper into the second bag for two slim plastic boxes. “And I brought you these for making Daniel feel welcome. I appreciate your kindness toward him. He hasn’t known much kindness in his life.”

  Brittany eyed the compact disks skeptically. “You picked those out?”

  Jeff laughed and shook his head. “They’re not elevator music, if that’s what you’re thinking. Daniel told me what to buy.”

  Brittany accepted the CDs and studied the covers. “Wow, they’re exactly what I would have picked. Thanks.”

  “Now—” Jeff removed his windbreaker and tossed it on a chair “—time for ice cream.”

  Brittany quickly thrust her flowers into a water-filled vase, placed it on the island, and rummaged through the cabinets and drawers to find bowls and spoons.

  Events were progressing too fast for Jodie. She couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, a man had brought her flowers. After she’d thought about it, she realized Jeff could have simply asked about the table flowers, but he’d brought her a bouquet, too.

  And never had one of her infrequent male friends included a gift for Brittany. Jodie laid her flowers on the counter and sank onto the neares
t stool. Her thoughts whirled like a sky diver in free fall as she tried to comprehend Jeff’s motives. Maybe, with her brain fried by overactive hormones and too tired to think clearly, she was making something out of nothing.

  Jeff removed a smaller container from the ice-filled Tupperware, mounded ice cream from it into a bowl and handed the first serving to Brittany.

  “May I take mine to my room and listen to my new CDs?” Brittany asked.

  Jodie nodded. “But please keep the volume down—or use your head phones.”

  Brittany returned to her room. Jeff handed Jodie a bowl of ice cream with an ardent look that placed the concoction at risk of turning instantly to mush. She took a taste and almost moaned with delight at the rich cream melting on her tongue. “This is so good it has to be sinful.”

  Jeff grinned. “If the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, what with equal rights for women, I thought this worth a try.”

  Was he trying to win her heart? God, he was even more dangerous than she’d feared. She tried to make light of his admission. “Ply women with sweets, and they may hate you in the morning,” she warned.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because of the jump in the reading on the bathroom scales.” Jodie took another bite and savored the sweetness of the blueberries.

  The warmth in Jeff’s eyes kicked up a notch. “As hard as you work, and with your own private Stair-master—” he nodded toward the steps that led to the café “—you’ll never have to worry about your weight.”

  Jodie consumed another spoonful and swore to herself not to mention weight again. Jeff would think she obsessed over it, when she was merely latching onto the handiest safe topic of conversation.

  He served himself, placed the remaining dessert in her freezer as casually as if he’d been a frequent visitor to her kitchen, and perched on the stool across the island from her.

  “So,” he said after a mouthful of the ice cream, “how’s Daniel doing?”

  Jodie couldn’t help smiling. “He’s the best busboy I’ve ever had. Conscientious, dependable, polite. I can’t figure whether that’s his true nature or he’s just trying to impress Brit.”

  “That’s one hundred percent Daniel. Gofer compares him to a puppy dog, eager to please. Seems all the kid really needed was people who believe in him.”

  “And your other clients?” Jodie tried not to shudder at the memory of the fierce, rebellious teens who’d joined Daniel last Sunday at Archer Farm. “Are they shaping up as well as Daniel?”

  Jeff gazed past her toward the windows. “Too soon to tell.”

  What he hadn’t said spoke volumes, and Jodie assumed Jeff and his team had their work cut out for them. “Shouldn’t you be helping out at the farm?”

  “It’s movie night. That’s why Trace made ice cream. Along with a DVD and popcorn, it’s the boys’ treat for a good day’s work. The team can handle them.”

  She dropped her spoon in her bowl and set the dish aside. “You were nice to share this, but I really have to work.”

  “No problem.” He pushed away his bowl and reached into the bottom of the second bag. “That’s why I’m here. To help with your work.”

  “It’s pretty much a one-person job.” She stood and moved toward the door, hoping he would take the hint and leave.

  He remained ensconced on the stool and waved the CD he’d retrieved from the bag. “That’s where this comes in.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t listen to music while I work. It interferes with my concentration.”

  “This isn’t music.” His gaze caressed her with unspoken promises. “Although that’s not a bad idea for next time.”

  He looked so appealing, sitting in the middle of her kitchen with his boyish grin and disheveled hair, she wanted to go to him, wrap her arms around his waist and bury her head on his shoulder.

  A head that needed serious examining, apparently.

  Those feelings had caused her big trouble in the past, and she struggled to apply the brakes to them. When other teens had been learning the nuances of male/female relationships, indulging in flirtations, adolescent crushes, prom nights and other dates, Jodie had been changing diapers and reading Pat the Bunny to Brittany before tackling her homework. With the responsibilities of her child, school and then her business, Jodie had never found much opportunity to fill in the gaps in her dating experience. She was perfectly comfortable with her father and brother, but after her experience with the Mercers, she remained wary of men and clueless over how to relate to them.

  Aware of her ineptitude and her terrifying fear of commitment, her warm response to Jeff was all the more reason to get rid of him. Fast.

  “There won’t be a next time,” she corrected. “I told you, I’m a workaholic.”

  “This is your antidote.” He tossed her the CD.

  She fumbled before catching it, then flipped the plastic sleeve over and read the title. “A computer program?”

  “The best available for small businesses. I use it at the farm to keep up with inventory, payroll, everything.”

  “Maybe I don’t have a computer,” she hedged.

  “But you do,” he said with a knowing nod, “although all you use it for is e-mail and Web access.”

  His accuracy shocked her. “You sure you weren’t with military intelligence? How do you know all this?”

  “Daniel’s my spy, and he’s successfully infiltrated your organization.” He spread his hands wide, and his grin turned sheepish. “In other words, he pumped Brittany for information.”

  Jodie hoped Brittany hadn’t also blabbed how technically challenged her mother was, or the pathetic number of hours Jodie spent playing computer solitaire.

  “Thanks for the offer.” She tried to give the disk back. “I don’t do computers.”

  He refused to accept the CD. “But I do. And the program’s very simple. I’ll load it and show you how to use it. Once you’ve got the hang of it, it will save you hours a week.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Hours I can spend with you?”

  “You only owe me a day.” He shrugged. “So far.”

  “Are all Marines this cocky?”

  “It’s a requirement, ma’am. Recruiters check for it, first thing.”

  “You must have passed with flying colors.”

  “Head of the class. So let me load the program for you.”

  Jodie hesitated. Her home office was in the corner of her bedroom, the last place she wanted to take Jeff in her present state of out-of-her-mind. “Just leave it with me and I’ll figure it out.”

  He stood, folded his arms across his muscular chest, leaned back against the kitchen counter with one booted foot resting on the lower cabinet door, and shook his head. “Your figuring it out defeats the entire purpose.”

  Her mouth went dry, and the heat in his eyes prevented her from asking exactly what his purpose was.

  “If you have to load it,” he said with irritating rationality, “and go through all those time-consuming, boring tutorials, you won’t be freeing up time for that day with me.”

  “There’s no hurry,” she said quickly.

  “But there is. I’ve already picked the day. A week from Saturday.”

  “No way. Saturday’s one of our busiest days.”

  “I’m sure there’s someone who covers for you occasionally.” His smile was innocent but his eyes were wicked. “Like your mother?”

  Jodie sighed. She did occasionally manage a day off, if and when she wanted it. Her allegedly full schedule was a ploy to keep Jeff at arm’s length, a goal even more urgent as she recognized that she was becoming emotionally attached as well as physically attracted to the man. Unfortunately, her don’t-have-time strategy wasn’t working. “Is there anything Brittany hasn’t told Daniel?”

  His smoldering look threatened to send her into meltdown. “There’re a few things I’d like to discover for myself.”

  On dangerous ground, she quickly changed the subject. “Why a week f
rom Saturday?”

  “The local bike club is having a poker run.”

  “I don’t know how to play poker.”

  “You don’t have to. The riders follow a designated route. At stops along the way, each participant draws a card. At the final stop, the rider with the best poker hand wins. No skill needed.”

  She blinked in surprise. “You want me to ride a motorcycle?”

  He grinned. “I’ll do the driving. All you have to do is hang on. It’s for a good cause. The entry fees raise money for Christmas gifts for needy kids. We do another run during the holidays to deliver them.”

  Spend a day with her arms wrapped around Jeff? She liked the idea so much, it had to be a bad one. “I’m not the motorcycle type.”

  He laughed. “You don’t have to be a biker babe to participate. Brynn’s going. So are her uncle Bud and aunt Marion.”

  Bud Sawyer, local real estate agent and head of the Chamber of Commerce, and his wife Marion had ridden their BMW cycle as long as Jodie could remember. They swore the only way to appreciate the beauty of the Blue Ridge Parkway and other mountain routes was by motorcycle. But Brynn? “Did Brynn buy a bike?”

  Jeff shook his head. “She’s riding with another officer. Some guy with the Walhalla department whose name I can’t remember.”

  “This entire discussion is moot,” Jodie reminded him. “As I said before, I don’t have time for a day off.”

  He moved closer, so near his scent of spicy soap and fresh mountain air teased her nostrils. Waggling the CD in front of her, he dared, “Afraid to give this a try?”

  Rising to his challenge, she answered without thinking. “The computer’s in the bedroom.”

  She spun on her heel and marched down the hall, praying she hadn’t left underwear strewn across the bedroom furniture.

  Jeff followed and almost bumped into her when she stopped abruptly on the threshold. Her queen-size bed with its handmade candlewick spread and profusion of pillows loomed large in the center of the room beneath the double windows, conjuring up images of twisted sheets and naked limbs. Thrusting the sensual thoughts aside, with brisk efficiency, she stepped into the room, skirted the bed and hurried to the corner desk where her computer sat.