Need You Now Page 15
“Well, that could be a problem.”
She opened the office door. The AC was off but the window was open, so it was pleasant inside. A cool breeze carried in the snorting sounds of the two roans playing in the corral. “We can get around that sort of stuff. It just takes a little more time. Annie and Shea will make a few subtle threats and the bellyachers will heel.”
“What about you? Too soft to make threats?” he asked, his voice close to her ear.
In an instant the door was closed behind them and he’d pulled her into his arms.
Melanie leaned into him. “No one takes me seriously,” she murmured, letting her head fall back farther with each brush of his lips across hers.
“I do.”
“You’re sweet-talking me because you want my vote.”
“I want you,” he whispered and proved it with an urgent kiss as he pulled her tight against him.
She put her arms around his neck, clinging to him, blotting out thoughts of where she was and reasons why she shouldn’t be kissing him back. His lips were damp and warm, and the skin at the back of his neck was hot. His arousal pressed against her belly seemed to sear her through the thick denim.
If she didn’t stop this, she would burn up. There’d be nothing left of her but ashes and decades of sad tales of the poor disgraced preacher’s daughter. And yet all that mattered at this moment was his hungry mouth on hers and the unmistakable need straining his fly.
Her phone buzzed, and they both ignored it.
He lifted her, moving her backward to the desk, shoving the stacks of paperwork to the side. An alarm went off in her head. They’d started something they couldn’t finish, not here. And then Lucas yanked her shirt free from the waistband of her jeans and slid his hands underneath, and the tingling sensation of him cupping her breasts through the bra erased all thought.
Melanie clawed at his polo shirt, struggling to pull it up, wanting so badly to feel skin against skin. Her desperation thwarted her and she fumbled, breathless and frustrated. Lucas eased back a little—she thought to help her—but he gentled the kiss and stilled her hands.
“Lady, I don’t know what you do to me,” he said softly, resting his forehead against hers. “I don’t get carried away like this.” He stopped to catch his breath, and she fought for hers, his words turning her on as much as his hard body. “I’m sorry. I know better.”
“Screw that,” she said weakly, making another attempt to burrow under his shirt.
His laugh sounded rusty. He lifted his forehead from hers and forcefully removed her hands from him. “Don’t make it worse. I’m trying to be sensible, dammit.”
“We can lock the door.” She sounded like a ten-year-old whining to stay up late. That should have shamed her into keeping her hands to herself. “Harold never comes to the office.”
“And if someone pulled into the lot?”
“We’d hear the car.”
“Would you?”
Slumping back, she let out a sigh, and Lucas sighed along with her.
“I know I wouldn’t,” he said. His darkened gaze met and held her eyes, almost daring her to look away. “There is nothing I want more than to be inside of you right now.”
Her heart lurched.
“But not here. Not anywhere someone could see us. I won’t leave you vulnerable to that kind of gossip.” He lowered his hand to his side. “Which means I shouldn’t touch you, period.”
“Why not?” She hooked her fingers behind his belt to keep him from backing up.
“Because I obviously can’t trust myself around you.” He lifted her off the desk, holding her only long enough for her to plant her feet on the laminate floor.
“Does that mean no kissing, either?” she said, trying to look innocent.
He snorted a laugh, eyeing her as if she might pounce at any second. “Your father must’ve had his hands full with you.”
“Nothing could be further from the truth.” Melanie chuckled at the ridiculous thought. Then she caught sight of the volunteer board. Lucas was right. This was Safe Haven, for heaven’s sake. “Apparently I have a problem behaving myself around you, too.”
She should’ve been thanking him for stopping them from doing something foolish, she thought as she turned to straighten the desk. So why did this seem like a punishment and not the sensible thing to do? Maybe because she was tired of being the good girl who never disappointed anyone...except herself.
No matter what, she should feel elated. She, Melanie Knowles, made a hot guy like Lucas lose his head. Wow.
So why didn’t she simply invite him back to her house? By tomorrow the whole town would know he’d visited her two nights in a row. Tongues would wag, but there’d be no proof anything untoward happened. People gossiped about things that had no basis in truth all the time. The rumors eventually died. Besides, most folks wouldn’t believe her capable of wrongdoing. Wasn’t she a paragon of virtue, the perfect sainted extension of her mother?
The thought rankled.
“You know what?” She turned to face him. “Let’s go to my house.”
Lucas frowned. “You think that’s a good idea?”
“Why not? We’d have privacy. I’m entitled to that, right?”
He should’ve been glad, eager—he shouldn’t have looked troubled. “Melanie, we both know that would be a mistake.”
“Why? Did you change your mind about wanting me?”
“No.” He kind of laughed, but not at her. Something else was going on inside his head, something that seemed to be pulling him in two different directions. “Was that a text or a call you got?” he asked.
“When?”
“A few minutes ago. It might have to do with PRN and Safe Haven.”
She vaguely remembered her phone ringing and dug it out of her pocket. “Huh. One of each.” Her breath came out in a whoosh when she saw the call was from David. That would definitely have to wait. The text was from Shea. Melanie read it quickly and looked up with dismay. “We need a vote, so we have to call the members tonight to figure out when everyone can meet.”
“We?”
“Me,” she said, shrugging. “I won’t dump any of it on Shea, since she just got home. I have everyone’s phone number at the house. The sooner I get ahold of them, the quicker we can come to terms. I’m sure you’re anxious to finish up. You can’t be hanging around here forever.” She held her breath, waiting for a trace of regret in his eyes or a word of denial—even a token one would do.
At his absent nod, her hope dissolved. “I’ll follow you back to town,” he said, moving toward the door. “Anything I can do to help?”
She wondered if he’d already discarded her suggestion to go home with her or if he’d considered it at all. Of course, his priority was PRN, not her. She knew that. And if she wasn’t wrong about him, Lucas would naturally be trying to protect her from cruel gossip. And if she was wrong...then he’d played her like a fiddle.
No. Not Lucas. She refused to believe that.
“I can’t think of anything,” she said with a bright smile. “With any luck, we can get them to meet tomorrow.”
“That would be great.”
He hadn’t even tossed her a crumb. And what a fool she was, still hoping for one.
* * *
THE BOARD MEMBERS agreed to meet the next afternoon. Melanie should’ve known twisting arms would be unnecessary. Everyone was curious, anxious to hear more about what Lucas wanted and to see the man himself. Of course they’d requested he be in attendance. She really should’ve seen that coming, as well. But she hadn’t, more evidence that she was off her game. She’d been a little nuts ever since she rammed Lucas’s bumper.
The closest spot available for Blackfoot Falls’ version of a town hall was a block away. Normally, they’d have met at the Wateri
ng Hole, but the earliest the board could gather was after the bar opened.
Seeing the unusual number of cars and trucks parked along Main Street cranked up her grumpiness. The meeting was supposed to be open to members only. Wouldn’t surprise her if they’d brought friends, relatives and picnic baskets. That was the trouble with using a public venue. Folks assumed they had a right to barge in anytime.
She walked into the room, and Shea came in seconds behind her. “Who are all these people? Are we in the wrong place?”
Jesse had followed Shea inside. With a wry smile, he placed his hands on her shoulders. “No. This is one of those small-town things we talked about,” he said. “So don’t bite anyone’s head off. Okay?”
“I’d never do that.” The sly wink she gave Melanie nearly bowled her over.
Jesse just smiled.
“Seriously,” Shea said, twisting around to look at both of them. “Can’t we kick these people out?”
Louise from the fabric shop was passing by and obviously overheard. She gave Shea a chilly glare that Shea completely ignored, probably hadn’t even noticed.
“It’s 4:28.” Jesse nodded at the head table facing the room of thirty-something people. “Go get ’em, tiger.”
Melanie knew Lucas wasn’t there yet—she’d already surveyed the room. They’d decided it was best not to come together, but she’d expected him to be here by now. She ordered herself not to fret and followed Shea. Four other board members were already seated at the second table, which formed an L. After Lucas and the rest of the board showed up, she’d suggest to Jesse that they lock the doors. Latecomers would gripe, but too bad.
Leaving two places for Jesse and Lucas between her and Shea, Melanie set down her notebook and pulled out a chair. Still edgy, she checked her phone to make sure she hadn’t missed a text from Lucas, then glanced up and saw him standing by the door, looking at her. Her smile was automatic.
It died the second she spotted David entering the building. With purpose in his stride, he headed directly for a seat in the front row. Okay, now it was time to fret.
* * *
“I SAY WE hear from this Lucas fella himself,” someone called out from the audience.
Melanie thought it sounded like Earl Lester, but she couldn’t be sure. Not that she cared. They were half an hour into a meeting that should’ve taken five minutes. Partly because Shea had stuck to the format described in the bylaws, up to and including reading the minutes of their last meeting. Shea could be anal at times, but Melanie suspected she was trying to bore the heck out of everyone so they’d leave. Good plan...in theory. No one had budged, including David.
He sat patiently listening to everything being said, careful not to show particular interest in Melanie or Lucas. Did he think she was an idiot? He had no reason to be here. But if challenged, he’d probably use her student project to justify his involvement.
Shea scanned the audience. “Will the person who just spoke please stand and identify himself?”
No one responded, so Shea sat back and waited. After a few moments of cranky mumblings among the crowd, Earl got to his feet. The stoop in his spine had less to do with age than a back injury he’d sustained thwarting a pair of drifters who’d tried to rob his filling station. No surprise he sat on the opposing team.
“I’m Earl Lester, and I say we let Mr. Sloan tell us in his own words why we should give a damn about a bunch of no-good bottom-feeders. They sure ain’t behind bars for being model citizens,” he said, buoyed by supportive murmurs. “Let ’em all rot in their cells.”
Melanie slid a discreet glance at Lucas. His calm expression remained unchanged. He hadn’t moved so much as an eyelash. She wanted to respond to Earl, remind the whole audience the prisoners had already been judged, remind them of their Christian duty to forgive. But she couldn’t, not with David sitting there. He’d assume anything she said would have more to do with her personal feelings toward Lucas than the program itself.
“Everyone be quiet,” Shea said, and she didn’t have to raise her voice. “Mr. Lester, with all due respect, you’re not a member of this board. You’re not even a volunteer.... Correct me if I’m wrong.” She paused, her gaze direct and unwavering. “So what you have to say is irrelevant. Oh, and very annoying.”
Jesse let out a laugh that he tried to cover with a short cough. Sadie and Will, sitting with the rest of the board members at the other table, made no attempt to hide their laughter. Some in the audience expressed amusement, but mostly Shea’s words were met with stunned silence or indignant stares.
Earl flushed deep red.
Jesse reached under the table and squeezed Shea’s thigh. “He doesn’t mean any harm,” he whispered to her, and then he said, “Earl, she’s right. I don’t know why all you folks are here. Safe Haven doesn’t concern any of you. That being said, we’ve all witnessed what can happen to unwanted animals. We’re very fortunate to not only have the sanctuary in our community but have it run by capable, selfless people. They care about the animals. That’s what this is about.”
After a few moments of blessed silence, Lucas turned to Jesse and Shea. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to the gentleman’s question.”
Jesse looked to Shea and she nodded.
Lucas got up, and Melanie’s heart pounded so hard it hurt. She should’ve expected this. Now she could only hope he knew what he was doing.
“Can everyone hear me?” he asked and got quite a few encouraging nods. He’d wisely dressed in clean work jeans, a dark blue T-shirt and scuffed boots, looking no different from any cowboy shopping at the Food Mart or cashing his paycheck at the bank.
Melanie chanced a peek at David, saw he was watching her and pretended to look at someone beyond him.
“I can appreciate why you folks might be hesitant,” Lucas said, his empathetic smile a perfect combination of understanding and concern. “And to be frank, I’m glad you have qualms and that you’re willing to ask questions. We all need to give voice to animals who can’t speak for themselves. That’s part of the reason I’m here.”
He’d also shaved again. His jaw and chin were smooth, and though she missed the sexy stubble that gave him a slightly dangerous quality, she knew presenting this clean-cut image was smart.
“I’m grateful for this opportunity to help you understand how the program works and how it benefits the horses, inmates and society in general.” He seemed comfortable, easily making eye contact with the audience.
Some sour expressions began to fade. The women up front sat straight and attentive, smiles on their lips as they waited for him to go on.
“First, I’ll flat out give you my word that any horse that goes into the program, no matter if it’s a stray, mustang or has been abandoned, is well cared for. The horse is examined by a vet, trimmed, vaccinated and, if need be, gelded.”
“That’s all well and good,” Earl called out. “But you can’t give us your word that they won’t be mistreated by those other animals in jail.”
Melanie tensed, watching for Lucas’s reaction.
He stayed calm and even gave an understanding nod. “The men aren’t randomly chosen to work with the horses. They’re vetted ahead of time by case workers to determine suitable candidates. And of course, they’re closely supervised.”
“Men?” Earl packed the single word with sarcasm. “Don’t sugarcoat it, son. You mean vermin.”
The sound of a fist pounding wood echoed off the walls.
Everyone turned to Sadie, who was glaring at Earl. “Shut your fool mouth and let him finish. I gotta get back to the Watering Hole. Some of us have businesses to run.” She turned to Lucas, and her glare instantly softened to a smile. Even a woman old enough to be his mother wasn’t immune to those blue eyes. “Go on.”
Lucas gave Sadie her very own smile, making her cheeks a little pink, and
Abe, sitting next to her, scowled. Everyone knew he had a “secret” thing for her. After what Harold had told Melanie, Abe was the board member with whom she was most concerned. She knew which way his vote would go.
“All right,” Lucas said genially, making sure his gaze touched everyone. He even managed to include Melanie for what seemed like a long private moment. “Since we’re at a break, any other questions before I continue?”
She had no idea how the people in the audience responded. She couldn’t drag her attention away from him. He was good at this—really good, she thought—and she didn’t know why it bothered her.
14
LUCAS KNEW IT was a mistake the moment he’d opened the floor to questions. It was too early. Normally, his timing was better. But then he’d looked at Melanie, remembered how much was at stake and lost his game. He’d never wanted to win over a crowd more than he did today. For several reasons, most of them crazy.
Ten minutes and three pointless questions later, he finally regained control. He used the last query regarding funding to get back on track. “There are no out-of-pocket expenses for any participating sanctuaries or for taxpayers,” he said. “Once the horses go through a four-month training period, they’re put up for adoption or sold at auction, which funds the program. Either way, what’s important is that we know where these horses end up, and it’s not a slaughterhouse or glue factory.
“By the way, horses aren’t the only animals in the program. Prison farms produce everything from beef and dairy cattle to goats and water buffalo, and a few even train service dogs.” Most of the listeners seemed surprised, some impressed, both common reactions. Lucas got an unexpected glimpse of David Mills. He looked as if he was picturing Lucas with a rope around his neck.
Before he could move on, David stood.
“Pardon me,” he said, very polite, very authoritative. And unfortunately, the crowd seemed eager to hear from him. “I’d like to address an earlier comment you made about the benefits of the program for prisoners and society alike. I understand why the inmates would welcome the chance to break the monotony of their daily grind.” He hadn’t been so crass as to question why anyone should care—his tone and faint smirk were implication enough. “How does society benefit?”