Cherish Hard by Nalini Singh
Isa wanted to grin and tell them they'd never truly figure it out. Coleridge had had a love affair with laudanum, and the drug had undoubtedly influenced his works. But he'd created incredible, haunting imagery that Isa loved to sink into. Hearing her students' passion about his work gave her deep pleasure--this was what she loved doing: sharing the joy of the written word with other minds.
It was only after she'd locked up that she spotted a familiar truck parked on the other side of the lot. She didn't know what made her do it. After saying goodbye to her students, she walked in the direction of the truck. And there he was in the distance, shirtless and sweaty and an erotic dream come to vivid, masculine life.
Groaning, Isa told herself to stop it. He was not for her. But her feet kept on moving until she was standing on the far edge of the section of the grounds where he was doing his work. He hadn't seen her. She could still walk away. But instead, she put her feet on the grass and crossed the remaining distance to him.
Far too late, she realized he wasn't alone. A lanky teenager worked alongside him, his attention on digging his spade into the earth; the boy had been hidden because he was working behind a number of tall flax plants. The teen's features were strongly reminiscent of Sailor's, though his skin was a warm shade of brown in comparison to Sailor's more golden tan.
The teenager was laughing and saying something to Sailor when Sailor looked up and saw Isa. His lips curved, and those blue eyes flickered with heat before he seemed to consciously stifle the response. A response that had gone a long way toward eliminating the uneasy sensation that had dogged Isa since their meeting.
Smile fading, Sailor came over. "Hello, Miss Rain," he said, wiping the back of his forearm across his forehead, his sweaty chest streaked with dirt and his eyes narrowed against the sunlight. "Strange place for a VP to hang out."
"I work here too. And it's Isa," she said firmly, even as her skin began to prickle with awareness and her lungs seemed to be having trouble drawing in oxygen. "Stop teasing me. You know full well I didn't mean for you to start calling me Miss Rain."
The demon blue glinted. "Whatever you say, Isa. You're the boss."
He was, Isa decided, being deliberately provocative. Whatever had caused the change in his behavior earlier, it was yet in effect. "Something is definitely wrong--and I'm not leaving until you tell me what." Folding her arms, she set her feet.
"You, shouldn't play with the hearts of simple gardeners, spitfire."
"I'm quite sure you're not a simple anything." The playfulness was on the surface. Below that was a highly intelligent man whose passion and drive spoke to Isa in ways she didn't want to hear.
Because no woman would ever be a priority for a man that driven. Isa would never be a priority. "And," she said on the heels of that depressing thought, "when was the last time your heart was involved with a woman?"
Chuckling, he turned to wave the teenage boy over. "Jake, this is Isa Rain. Isa, this is my brother, Jake."
Isa held out a hand. "Hi, Jake."
The teenager shook it with a small smile. "Hi," he said before looking up at his brother. "Shall I dig up the rest, Sail?"
Sailor nodded, and Jake ran off back to his task. "Had to draft in some slave labor." Sailor's voice held an edge. "It's all I can afford right now."
Isa realized he probably wanted to get back to work. "Sorry, I'm keeping you."
But Sailor didn't take the chance to step away. "You're the prettiest distraction a man could have."
Distraction.
Isa had heard that word many times over her lifetime. Both her parents had often told her to stop being a distraction before they bent their heads to much more important tasks. "When I was young, I once deliberately broke an expensive vase," she found herself telling Sailor, the words just rising out of her throat. "It was when my parents were still married. I wanted to see what they'd do."
"My parent's would've grounded me, then docked part of my pocket money to teach me not to throw a tantrum with other people's things," Sailor said with a grin that told her he was speaking from experience. "I'm guessing yours did something similar."
"No." Though Isa had wished so hard for exactly that type of a reaction, exactly that type of involvement. "The maid swept away the shards and I was told to go play in my room." Where she wouldn't be a distraction. "I was never punished." Neither parent had had the time to deal with such an insignificant matter. "Lucky, right?"
Sailor's eyebrows drew together, his lips parting, but a familiar ringtone shattered the air before he could speak.
19
Cheesecake and a Naked Gardener (in Very Close Proximity)
THAT'S MY YOUNGER SISTER," ISA said, relieved. She didn't know why she'd done that, given Sailor a key into one of her deepest vulnerabilities... as if he'd hear her, as if he'd understand her. "I better answer it."
Sailor was still scowling when she raised the phone to her ear and began to walk back to her car. "Catie? Is everything all right? You got the money?"
"Yes, I paid all the bills," her little sister said. "But Dad hasn't been home since he got into my account."
Isa didn't immediately panic. "Is Martha with you?"
"You know Mrs. M. would never abandon me," was the outwardly upbeat response that struggled to hide Catie's worry. "I just... Can you see if you can find out where Dad is? So I know he's okay?"
Isa rubbed at her heart, hurting for her little sister. Catie kept on loving Clive even though he let her down over and over again. Isa often thought that what Clive was doing to Catie was worse than what Jacqueline and Stefan had done to Isa. At least being ignored came with a sense of certainty that eliminated hope. Clive, by contrast, showed Catie just enough care to keep her hopeful that, next time, he'd act more like her father and less like an overindulged child.
"Of course I can," Isa said in response to her sister's halting request. "I'll call you back tonight."
"Thanks, Issie."
Hanging up, Isa got into her car and began to go through her list of Clive's friends--she'd collected their names and numbers over the years for exactly such a situation. It took her a half hour to track him to a casino in Sydney, Australia.
Leaving the country without telling his daughter?
That was a new low even for Clive.
When she got him on the phone, he was full of apologies that she knew were meaningless. Clive was from her mother's "pretty arm candy" phase.
"Martha's so dependable," he said, all warm bonhomie. "I have total faith in her. I'd never have left my little girl otherwise."
"Call her," Isa ordered, channeling the Dragon, her tone blasting Clive with fire. "If you don't, I swear I'll report you for child endangerment. Imagine what that'll do to your credit line." Because that was the only thing about which Clive appeared to care.
"Sure, sure, sure. No need to get tough, Isa. I'll call her right now."
"I'm going to check with her in five minutes to make sure."
She was sitting in the driver's seat waiting for those minutes to pass when there was a knock on her window. Jumping for the second time that day, she glanced up to see Sailor on the other side, his forehead scrunched in lines that could've either been concern or anger.
Isa didn't have the mental or emotional capacity to deal with the man right then. He reached too deep into her without even trying, was dangerous to her dreams. But, given that he was also as stubborn as a goat and still staring at her, his jaw getting increasingly more set, she rolled down the window and said, "I had to deal with a family thing," before he could ask her why she was still sitting in the parking lot as the world went dark around them.
"Is it done?" Sailor asked. "I won't leave you here alone."
Something tight uncurled inside her, and she didn't know what it was. Isa wasn't used to someone looking after her. The thought was ludicrous. She'd been looking after everyone since before she could drive. But Sailor was giving the distinct impression that he wasn't about to budge until she did.
Right then she didn't feel like just a distraction. An annoyance maybe... but an annoyance important enough to make him alter his own plans. "Who made you the Isa police?" The cool words just fell out of her mouth.
As the vase had once been thrown from her hands.
He made a distinct growling sound. "My truck's not budging until you drive out of here, spitfire, so stop trying to scare me off."
Isa scowled back at him even though the fluttering, mushy thing inside her was getting worse. He was really going to stay. Even though he was clearly tired after a long day of hard, physical work. "I'm nearly done." Her phone rang in her hand even as she spoke.
It was Catie on the other end, ecstatic that her father had gotten in touch." Thank you, Issie," she said on a delighted laugh. "I knew you'd do it."
Happy for her sister but worried about how many times she'd have to do this before Catie was old enough to move out and have an independent life free of a father who was, quite frankly, a charming parasite, she said the words her sister needed to hear, then hung up.
"All done," she told Sailor, the vulnerable mushiness inside her terrifyingly close to the surface. "You can go home with a clear conscience."
And still he didn't leave.
Reaching out, he rubbed gently at her forehead as if rubbing away a frown. "Have you eaten, spitfire?"
Isa tried to bring his actions down to the physical, to the erotic tension that simmered between them, and failed. There'd been too much tenderness in his question, in his touch. "I was going to pick up takeout on the way home," she said, terrified in a way she'd never before been terrified.
If he kept acting this way, how was she supposed to keep from falling for him? For this twenty-three-year-old man with huge dreams and an ambition to match? A man who wouldn't be ready to settle down for probably a decade yet, when a stable home was all that Isa had ever wanted to build.
She couldn't wait ten years. It would destroy her.
And she could never be with a man for whom his business was his priority.
She should start her engine and drive as far from him as possible.
Brushing his knuckles over her cheek, the affectionate action freezing her in place as surely as if he'd placed those handcuffs of his on her wrists, Sailor glanced at his truck. "I've got to drop Jake home. But after that I was planning to go to my place and throw a fish steak on the grill, then work on the updated quote."
Isa looked up, met his eyes.
It was a mistake.
Because his smile was a light in the blue as he said, "I could make that two fish steaks and you could help me with the quote." Another brush of his knuckles. "It'll go much faster if my demanding boss is right there to tell me what expenses she won't authorize."
Isa knew she shouldn't. This was shaping up to be a horrible, horrible mistake. But no man had ever smiled at her that way, as if having Isa with him was the best thing he could imagine. As if she was his version of rocky road ice cream and chocolate cake combined. She knew it was an illusion, that Sailor Bishop was probably just very good at charming women, but she said, "That sounds nice."
Maybe a woman had to make that horrible mistake before she finally learned her lesson.
"Here's my address." Sailor tapped it into her phone. "Meet you there in forty minutes?"
When Isa nodded, he rose, patting the top of her car. "Drive safe, spitfire. We'll follow you out."
That strange feeling in her stomach again at the idea of Sailor watching over her.
Isa didn't know what to do about it, how to process it.
So she just drove out, waving at Sailor when they split in different directions at the road. Since there was no point going home, she decided to head to a large grocery store that she knew was open till ten. Sailor was fixing dinner, so the least she could do was pick up dessert.
Once inside the brightly lit store, the aisles wide and mostly empty at this time of the evening, she found herself just standing by the row of freezers. Lost. Uncertain. She was never more glad to hear her phone jingle with a cheerful Bollywood song.
"Nayna, I'm so glad you called!"
An older man with a mass of stiff gray hair gave her a censorious look from the ice cream section. As if the grocery store turned into a library at night.
Ignoring him, Isa walked over to the cheesecake section with the phone to her ear. "Why do you sound like you're hyperventilating?"
"My parents have set up another date for me--he's coming by tonight!" Nayna wailed. "I've been rethinking the whole arranged-marriage situation, but I haven't had a chance to talk to my parents. And I just got home and now I can't get out of this meeting without making them lose face and I'm hiding in the bathroom!"
"You did say today?" It was already past eight thirty.
"In ten minutes! He works long hours too." Nayna sounded like she was breathing into a paper bag now. "My dad called me at work and told me to be home by eight thirty for a surprise. This isn't a surprise! It's a nightmare!"
Isa forgot about the cheesecake and turned to pace to the other end of the refrigerated-goods aisle. "All right, don't panic." She thought quickly. "Just do the same thing you did with the other five. Tell your folks you have nothing in common with him and can't see a marriage working out."
"The other five were asses." More paper-bag breathing. "My family didn't like them either. What if this guy isn't an ass and my parents and grandmother love him?" Nayna's tone was becoming increasingly more agitated. "What if I'm trapped in a marriage I don't want?"
"Look," Isa said to her smart best friend who was usually the most practical and calm person in the room. "This is your life. Your family can't force you to the altar."
"I love them, Isa." A soft confession. "No matter what, I love them. I can't be like Madhuri and risk being cut off."
Isa understood the complex ties of family and love, understood that sometimes it was impossible not to be bound even when you knew the tie was unhealthy. "How about if..." Isa snapped her fingers. "Say that during your private talk, you discovered that he's a little dim in the brain department."
Isa felt bad for plotting against some poor, hardworking man, but Nayna came first. "Knowing your folks, he's likely to have a degree or two, so maybe also hint that perhaps all isn't kosher there. Or that you got the impression he barely scraped by."
"Oh God, you're a genius, Isa!" The sound of the paper bag being scrunched up. "My parents are already planning for grandchildren with doctorates--a less-than-intelligent son-in-law will not do."
Having returned to the cheesecake section, Isa said, "You better go get ready."
"That won't take me long. I'm not exactly going to go all out." Nayna's tone brightened. "In fact, I think I'll wear that pale pink outfit that makes me look like a brown wraith. What are you doing?"
"Trying to choose between boysenberry cheesecake and passion fruit cheesecake."
"Are you eating cheesecake without me?" A glare in the words.
"I'm making a horrible mistake, that's what I'm doing," Isa admitted. "I'm having dinner with Sailor at his place."
"The hot gardener?"
"Yes."
"Do it, Isa." Nayna's voice was suddenly quiet, potent. "I've played it safe my whole life, and now I feel like I'm going to shatter if I don't spread my wings. Take a chance. Make that mistake. Even if it hurts... At least you'll have lived instead of being driven by fear."
And that was the heart of it: fear.
Of rejection.
Of hurt.
Of not being enough to hold his attention.
* * *
NOT LONG AFTERWARD, RIGHT ON the dot of when she'd promised to meet Sailor, and Isa still couldn't believe she was about to do this.
Sailor was just getting out of his truck when she brought her car to a stop on the street outside his apartment. He'd parked on the street too. It looked like his apartment was one of those converted townhouses that didn't have a garage. Most people who lived in this area likely didn't
"Aren't you worried about your truck?" she asked after stepping out of her own car. "You've got equipment in the back."
He indicated a standalone, old-fashioned garage with a peaked roof that she'd assumed belonged to the neighboring property. "I rent that as well," he said. "But it's too old to have an electronic door, so I have to go and push it up before I move my truck inside."
As she watched, he jogged over to unlock the garage. "Sorry for the wait," he said after coming back to the truck. "This will only take a minute."
"I don't mind," Isa said.
Shooting her a smile that made the butterflies in her stomach take flight all over again despite the fear knotted around her spine, he backed his truck expertly into the garage, then got out and locked up.
He was beside her seconds later, his big body making her want to curl into him.
"Let me grab that." He took the grocery bag she'd been holding. In his other hand, he held a bag filled with what looked like lettuce and possibly cucumbers. "From my mother's garden," he said after catching the glance. "She'd kill me dead if I dared buy salad stuff." Moving both bags to one hand, he took her the three steps to the front door, unlocked it with a key code.
"The place is separated into four apartments," he told her after following her inside, his hand touching her on her lower back for a moment that made her breath catch. "Honestly, the apartments are a little small, but because they're so small, the four of us get it for a good rental for this part of town."
Taking her hand in a warm and callused grip that felt dangerously possessive, he tugged her up the stairs. "Downstairs, both men work for an airline company and are on rotating shifts, so some months I see them, others they're ghosts. Upstairs, it's me and a city type whose hours hardly overlap with mine since I start with the light and end with it while he starts and finishes later."
"All men?" Isa said. "Was that on purpose?" An immature part of her did a little booty dance because the idea of Sailor sleeping in close quarters with another woman just rubbed her wrong.