she ever been?
“I don’t have such a great track record with men,” Candy said. “You know that better than anyone.”
Cheri shrugged. “I didn’t, either, but I’m pretty sure the past is only good for one thing and that’s getting a person where they are at the present.”
Candy smiled. “You sound like a wizened old newspaper publisher.”
Cheri started to laugh, but it was cut short when they both heard tires crunching on the gravel lane.
“Huh,” Cheri said, craning her neck. “That doesn’t look like J.J.’s truck.”
That’s because it wasn’t. Within ten seconds both women realized that Turner had just arrived.
Chapter 8
“Oh, shee-it,” Candy whispered.
Cheri stood up and waved as Turner hopped down from the vehicle. He’d taken two steps toward the cottage when he saw Candy in the rocker, then swiveled his head to find her car parked in the shadows.
“Oh,” Turner said, sheepishly shoving his hands in his uniform trousers. “Hey, listen, let J.J. know I swung by. I assumed he’d be around…” Turner took another quick glance at Candy. “Ya’ll enjoy your evening. Sorry to disturb.”
“Wait.” Candy jumped up from the rocking chair and ran down the front steps in her bare feet. Before she knew it, she was standing directly in front of Turner, their eyes locked in the twilight. She grabbed his hand. “You got a minute to talk?”
“Sure.” He revealed just a hint of a smile.
“I’ll be inside if ya’ll need anything,” Cheri said, a bit too cheerfully.
Candy led him to the dock, painfully aware of the warm bulk of his hand in hers. The dock would be as good a place as any, she guessed, since she had no idea what she was doing or what she was going to say to him. Hadn’t she just declined Turner’s offer for dinner a few hours ago? Hadn’t she just dismissed his suggestion that they talk? Yes, she had. But when she saw his beautiful face just now, that mix of sorrow and desire in his expression, she knew dealing with him was her only option.
No matter what else came of this, she cared for Turner. He was one of her oldest friends.
Candy squeezed his hand. She looked up at him as he walked by her side, and smiled.
* * *
Female. Luscious female. She was female in every respect—her scent, her soft touch, her laughter, her intangible energy. The essence of Candy reached out and caressed his body, poured into his being, flooded his senses.
Turner allowed himself to inhale long and deep, letting all that she was settle deep inside him.
God, how he loved women. Damn, he’d gone too long without feeling the pleasure of simply being in a woman’s company.
Truth be told, he hadn’t allowed himself to experience this. There were women everywhere in Turner’s world, every day, and some of them had been less than subtle about what they wanted from him. But it had been as if he were deaf to their call, no matter how sexy they were, how smart or funny or appealing. Nothing— no one —had tempted him since Junie’s death.
No one but Candy, the woman here at his side. Her thigh pressed against his as their feet dangled over the edge of the dock, occasionally knocking together. They both pretended it was accidental. They both knew it wasn’t.
They’d been sitting in near silence for about ten minutes. It was as if they were getting used to being in each other’s presence at a lower frequency. They were doing pretty good—so far, there’d been no wild kisses, or gropes, or thighs flung around his hips.
“Turner?”
“Yeah.”
“We’re both adults, right?”
“I sure as hell hope so, ’cause what I’m thinking is for mature audiences only.”
She giggled just a little, but he watched her struggle with her feelings. When she bowed her head, that stunning curtain of blond curls obscured the side of her face. As much as he loved her hair, he needed to see her expression. So Turner used his fingers to push the thick waves aside
“I don’t have such a great track record with men,” Candy said. “You know that better than anyone.”
Cheri shrugged. “I didn’t, either, but I’m pretty sure the past is only good for one thing and that’s getting a person where they are at the present.”
Candy smiled. “You sound like a wizened old newspaper publisher.”
Cheri started to laugh, but it was cut short when they both heard tires crunching on the gravel lane.
“Huh,” Cheri said, craning her neck. “That doesn’t look like J.J.’s truck.”
That’s because it wasn’t. Within ten seconds both women realized that Turner had just arrived.
Chapter 8
“Oh, shee-it,” Candy whispered.
Cheri stood up and waved as Turner hopped down from the vehicle. He’d taken two steps toward the cottage when he saw Candy in the rocker, then swiveled his head to find her car parked in the shadows.
“Oh,” Turner said, sheepishly shoving his hands in his uniform trousers. “Hey, listen, let J.J. know I swung by. I assumed he’d be around…” Turner took another quick glance at Candy. “Ya’ll enjoy your evening. Sorry to disturb.”
“Wait.” Candy jumped up from the rocking chair and ran down the front steps in her bare feet. Before she knew it, she was standing directly in front of Turner, their eyes locked in the twilight. She grabbed his hand. “You got a minute to talk?”
“Sure.” He revealed just a hint of a smile.
“I’ll be inside if ya’ll need anything,” Cheri said, a bit too cheerfully.
Candy led him to the dock, painfully aware of the warm bulk of his hand in hers. The dock would be as good a place as any, she guessed, since she had no idea what she was doing or what she was going to say to him. Hadn’t she just declined Turner’s offer for dinner a few hours ago? Hadn’t she just dismissed his suggestion that they talk? Yes, she had. But when she saw his beautiful face just now, that mix of sorrow and desire in his expression, she knew dealing with him was her only option.
No matter what else came of this, she cared for Turner. He was one of her oldest friends.
Candy squeezed his hand. She looked up at him as he walked by her side, and smiled.
* * *
Female. Luscious female. She was female in every respect—her scent, her soft touch, her laughter, her intangible energy. The essence of Candy reached out and caressed his body, poured into his being, flooded his senses.
Turner allowed himself to inhale long and deep, letting all that she was settle deep inside him.
God, how he loved women. Damn, he’d gone too long without feeling the pleasure of simply being in a woman’s company.
Truth be told, he hadn’t allowed himself to experience this. There were women everywhere in Turner’s world, every day, and some of them had been less than subtle about what they wanted from him. But it had been as if he were deaf to their call, no matter how sexy they were, how smart or funny or appealing. Nothing— no one —had tempted him since Junie’s death.
No one but Candy, the woman here at his side. Her thigh pressed against his as their feet dangled over the edge of the dock, occasionally knocking together. They both pretended it was accidental. They both knew it wasn’t.
They’d been sitting in near silence for about ten minutes. It was as if they were getting used to being in each other’s presence at a lower frequency. They were doing pretty good—so far, there’d been no wild kisses, or gropes, or thighs flung around his hips.
“Turner?”
“Yeah.”
“We’re both adults, right?”
“I sure as hell hope so, ’cause what I’m thinking is for mature audiences only.”
She giggled just a little, but he watched her struggle with her feelings. When she bowed her head, that stunning curtain of blond curls obscured the side of her face. As much as he loved her hair, he needed to see her expression. So Turner used his fingers to push the thick waves aside
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