Page 37 of Her Cadillac Cowboy
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sara stared at the rain that tap-danced on the car. The deluge had let loose just as they’d left Delgado’s. Only a short sprint separated them from Josh’s truck, but she’d been soaked through anyway. She shivered silently all the way home. But how much of the gooseflesh that peppered her arms was due to the damp chill of rain? How much was due to the memory of watching her mother drive away in the rain? How much was due to the man beside her?
Now, as he stopped the car in the drive that fronted her home, the tap dance of drops became a faint, drizzling mist. While she stared, she felt Josh’s hands grasp her shoulders and tug her across the bench seat to his side. He settled his arm around her, and his big hand stroked her shoulder. She looked at him.
“You’re shivering. You’ve been shivering since we got into the car.”
She looked away. “It’s late. I need to go in.”
“Not until you’re warmer.”
She squirmed a little, but Josh held her gently in place. Truth be told, she didn’t really want to go in just yet. Josh’s body was hard against hers but so warm. The heat alone soothed the cold in her mind. Another memory replaced the mental vision of disappearing taillights. Sara smiled and sighed.
“I don’t suppose that smile is for me.”
“No, a memory.”
“If it makes you smile, it’s gotta be good. Tell me.”
She didn’t think. She just began speaking.
“I think I was four. It was Christmas time, and my parents had gone out, leaving me with a babysitter.”
“Mmmm.” She felt something move in her hair. “They came home late. Something, the car maybe, woke me up, and I got out of bed. The sitter was asleep on the couch. I looked out the living room window and saw the Caddy rocking.”
“Like this.” Josh started to bump her hip with his, rocking the truck.
As she bounced loose from Josh’s arm, Sara giggled. “Yes, like that.”
He snatched her into his lap, then looked her in the eyes.
Sara stilled.
“What happens next?”
She looked away. Was he talking about her story or something else? “When?”
“When you were four, Pipsqueak.”
“The car’s windows were fogged. I was afraid the car was eating my parents alive. I ran outside in my bare feet and nightie.”
“Now there’s a picture: Sara barefoot in a nightie.”
She slapped at his chest. He captured her hand and held it over his heart. It beat quick and strong beneath his cotton shirt.
“Do want you to hear this story or not?”
“Why don’t you continue while I chew on that thought?” He took her other hand and nibbled her fingers.
“I yelled and pounded on the door. I thought I could defeat whatever demon had trapped my parents inside. When the window rolled down I was so surprised—”
Josh dropped the fingers he’d been tasting and feathered a kiss on her neck. She jolted. She shouldn’t want his touch, probably should have left instead of taking a trip down memory lane. Why she stayed confused her. Hating Josh, blaming him and his family, was easier when she didn’t acknowledge how gentle and kind he could be.
“Uh, I jumped back and screamed until my mother stuck her head out the window and told me everything was okay.”
“And is everything okay?” His hand stroked upward, turning her face toward his. The breathy words teased her lips.
She shivered. “Yeah, okay.”
