The hair on the back of my neck rose, and I turned to look toward the house.
There he was.
Joe Colchester.
Bifold doors separated his kitchen from his patio, and they were pushed all the way open so the inside flowed to the outside. Joe surveyed the party in his yard, a slight smile curling his mouth. I felt a deep tug low in my belly at the mere sight of him.
I had never been this viscerally attracted to a man in my life.
He was rough, rugged, masculine, and charismatic. With a prominent, bold, aquiline nose that crooked slightly to the right from a break years ago, and his deep-set, dark eyes, there was nothing pretty about Joe Colchester. Joe was a sexy, successful forty-year-old who owned his own business. Started off as a mechanic and opened up his own garage. Then another and another … until he had garages all over the state of California. He was a smart guy who rolled with the times, so a few of those garages specialized in converting gas engines to electric.
At six four, Joe had that loose-limbed swagger cowboys were famous for, and the upper body of a man who kept himself in great shape. I hadn’t seen him with his shirt off, of course, but I had a good imagination, and his T-shirts had a tendency to strain against the most amazing biceps. Like right then. His navy plain tee stretched across his broad, muscular chest in the most delicious way.
Yum.
He kept his dark hair longish, and lately he’d been sporting salt-and-pepper scruff that only drew attention to his mouth. A mouth with a full lower lip that made a woman want to nibble on it. I’d had many a fantasy about that mouth.
It was wrong.
I knew it was wrong.
But from the moment I met Joe two years ago, I was instantly attracted to him. He was the kind of guy I didn’t even know still existed. Gruff with a rumbly, deep voice and a quiet, sly sense of humor. A great dad who would do anything for Dex and now Shaw.
And a serial monogamist.
Shaw liked to gossip wildly about Joe’s love life, and I liked to listen intently.
According to Dex and Shaw, Joe was the most loyal guy on the planet. He’d never dream of cheating on a woman. Unfortunately, he also didn’t seem to know how to settle down. He dated a woman for a few months and then moved on. And he had a type. Usually dark-haired beauties who were looking for a guy to take care of them in every way—emotionally and financially.
In other words, my complete opposite.
Joe was a protector and a provider. He enjoyed taking care of people. He enjoyed taking care of his women, knowing that they needed him. And nine months ago, to my overinflated devastation, he’d started dating Nicole. Nicole was thirty-six, divorced, and adorable. Petite, dark-haired, gorgeous face, and she had this tinkly, feminine laugh that was infectious. She was also a sweetheart. I wanted to hate her and couldn’t. She’d been in a terrible marriage, had a nasty divorce, and openly admitted she was looking for a man who would take care of her since she’d never had that. There was something about Nicole that made you want to scoop her up and protect her. And that seemed to work for Joe in a big way.
When they got past the four-month mark, it surprised Dex.
The sixth-month mark and Shaw speculated there might be a proposal brewing.
The very idea crushed me.
Joe and I got along. We shared a similar sense of humor and an ability to be together without having to fill the silence with conversation. Our time together would almost be wonderfully comfortable if it weren’t for my feelings. I was so aware of every aspect of his being that I think he must sense something because a tension always crackled between us.
I’d like to imagine it was sexual tension, but no—he was with Nicole.
Plus, I was not a petite brunette with a need to be taken care of.
I was a tall redhead. And I was staunchly independent.
Suddenly, Joe looked in my direction, and our eyes locked. My breath caught in my throat as my pulse picked up speed. Trying to be casual, I raised my beer bottle in greeting, and he flashed me that gorgeous, boyish, wicked smile of his.
I felt that right between my legs.
Dirty girl.
He glanced behind him, looking for Nicole, and thus the reminder that Joe was off-limits in more ways than one. Except I noted she was nowhere in sight.
As if reading my mind, my little sister’s voice drew my attention. “They broke up,” Shaw whispered.
I turned to look at her, my heart skipping an actual beat. “What?”
Shaw’s expression was impassive. “Yup. Two weeks ago.”
“Who broke it off?”
“Who do you think? Joe did. It devastated Nicole because for her, it came out of nowhere. Dex tried to ask his dad why, but he said it was his business. Oh, shoot, he’s coming over. Pretend we’re talking about something else.”
How could I? My mind was racing. So was my adrenaline. And it shouldn’t be!
Just because Joe was single again didn’t mean I could do anything about it.
I was still sixteen years his junior. And I was still his son’s wife’s big sister.
This selfish feeling of elation was awful and needed to stop.
“Hey, Ryan.” Joe’s rumbly voice was like a caress of his fingers across my nape.
I turned toward him with a genuine smile. “Hey. How are you?”
“Good.” His dark eyes studied mine before dropping to my beer bottle. “Want a whiskey?”
Knowing my preference for whiskey—a taste we shared—it was so sweet and considerate that he’d asked. But I was afraid if I started too early on whiskey, I’d get drunk and do something regrettable. “I’ll take one later.”
“I’m gonna go say hello to Dex’s friends,” Shaw said, reminding me she was there.
Joe blinked as if he hadn’t even seen her and gave her a nod as she beamed at him and hurried around the pool. His eyes caught on Renee, who sat on a lounger with her husband while the twins played in the water. Joe and his ex-wife nodded in greeting, and Renee’s gaze flickered to me for a moment. She frowned and then turned back to her husband to whisper something.
My skin flushed, like she’d caught me doing something wrong.
Sometimes I wondered if my crush on Joe was obvious to everyone or if I was just being paranoid.
Laughter caught my attention across the other side of the pool where Dex’s friends and Shaw chanted, “Chug, chug, chug!” to Dex as he drank beer straight from the keg. I shook my head in dismay. “I think he’s taking this turning-twenty-one thing a little too seriously.”
Joe grunted. “Why is it that smart kids are also the stupidest?”
I laughed, meeting his half-amused, half-annoyed gaze. “I honestly don’t remember being that stupid.”
“It was only three years ago,” Joe teased. “If you were that stupid”—he gestured to his son whose face was turning a worrying red—“you’d remember it.”
“I don’t remember ever being that young.”
His expression softened. “Yeah, I guess not.”
I’d been raising Shaw practically on my own since our parents died when I was fourteen years old. We’d gone to live with my mom’s nice enough but completely self-absorbed and uninvolved aunt Rachel.
She had left it to me to raise Shaw, who was only ten at the time.
I’d been concerned when Shaw told me she wanted to become an environmental lawyer. Not the environmental part. As a freelance sustainability expert, I was proud of that. It was the law part. Shaw was an idealist, an optimist, and I didn’t want a life in law to beat that out of her.