Hearts on Fire by Roz Lee Page B

a routine. She sat in the cart and read the list to him—his way of teaching her to read simple words since their list usually consisted of the same things every week. He could imagine her reading the list. “Milk. Bread. Bananas. What’s this, Daddy?”
    “Condoms, sweetie.”
    “That’s a funny word. Condoms! Condoms! Condoms!”
    He could hear her yelling it all over the store. He shook his head to clear the nightmare from his brain. No. There’d be no sex today. Stopping in the same place he’d parked in the predawn, he stared at the luxury motor home and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. He’d been too blind with lust this morning to notice, but her motor home stood out from the rest. For one, it appeared fairly new. The custom paint job still had a gloss to it the surrounding campers didn’t have. Not to mention Shannon’s rig dwarfed all the rest. He had no idea there was so much money to be made in homespun cloth.
    There isn’t. A burst of rage shot through him, though why he should care how she made her money escaped him. He couldn’t shake the feeling he’d been lied to, and the lie, more than the thought she might have some other less legal means of support, cut him to the core. He didn’t associate with criminal types. Couldn’t because of Meggie. He’d never do anything that might bring harm to his daughter.
    A man, wearing only a pair of cargo shorts and smoking a cigarette, stepped from between two campers, gave Steve’s truck an assessing gaze, then, apparently deciding there was no cause for alarm, sauntered off in the direction of the makeshift paddock where they kept the horses used during the jousting events. Steve wouldn’t trust the man within a mile of his daughter.
    He cranked the engine, but instead of putting the truck in gear and leaving, he sat there, arguing with himself.
    So what if the sex was good?
    It was fucking better than good, and you know it.
    This is all about the sex, then. You’ll get over it. You’ll get over her.
    It’s not about the sex. She isn’t like the rest of these people. Hell, even her camper labels her an outsider.
    Just leave, asshole. Put the truck in gear and get the fuck away from her.
    “Fuck it.” He pulled the key from the ignition with one hand while reaching for the door latch with the other.
    There was nothing civilized about the way he felt, but he forced himself to ring the all-too-civilized doorbell on the fancy rig. He’d count to ten, and if she didn’t answer, he’d get the hell out of there, forget about her, forget the way she couldn’t get out of his bed fast enough this morning. Fuck, he’d probably scared her to death the night before. What kind of guy uses a woman that way—on a first date?
    An only date. No first about it. It was a one-night stand, pure and simple. Just a hookup.
    So why are you standing here like a scorned lover, waiting for her to open the door?
    No sooner had he thought the words than she stood before him. The surprise on her face quickly turned to a frown then she tried to pull the door shut.
    “Wait.” He wrapped his hand around the edge of the door, preventing her from shutting him out. She eased her grip on the inside handle, letting him open the portal wide. She filled the narrow entryway, her arms crossed over her midsection. She had put on some sort of black pants that hugged her body like they’d been painted on. Her top was made from the same stretchy material in a shade of pink that emphasized the blush creeping over her cheeks. Her feet were bare.
    “What do you want?”
    He shook his head, overcome by just the sight of her. “I don’t know.” Holding the door open with his shoulder, he stuck his hands in his front pockets. “Not sex, if that’s what you’re thinking. I just wanted to see you again.”
    She shifted, resting one foot on top of the other. Her vulnerability did something to him, made him want to be who she needed him to be . You’re abso-fucking nuts, Steve.