The Moment of Truth

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

JOSH JUMPED UP. Turning his back on the half-naked woman on his couch, he pulled up his slacks and fastened them, pulling the belt a notch tighter than normal. By the time he turned around, Dana’s jeans were back in place, as well. She was looking around the back side of the couch.

“Little Guy!” she said aloud. “We forgot all about him.”

He’d just messed up another life and she was worried about a dog?

Oh, God. What had he done? What had he done? Dana wasn’t the type of woman one bedded and walked away from.

But that was exactly what he had to do. He was in the midst of too much inner turmoil to be any good for anyone.

“Oh, there he is!” Her voice came from the kitchen. “Come look, Josh.”

He moved forward because he didn’t know what else to do. Lord knew, he couldn’t go back. Couldn’t undo the pain he’d caused Michelle, a pain so excruciating she’d had to poison herself with alcohol.

He couldn’t undo what he’d just done to Dana, either. Couldn’t keep those jeans up around her hips, couldn’t hold her thighs together instead of separating them. Couldn’t take back his orgasm.

Couldn’t expect her to have no expectations.

L.G. was curled up asleep in his kennel, with the door still open as Josh had left it when he’d come in from work...when was it? Just two hours ago? Three?

It didn’t take long for a new life to burn to ashes.

“You have to go.”

She was going to need things from him. He could tell her that he wanted to give her those things. That he believed she deserved them. But then she’d have faith in him. Expect things. Hope for things.

“What?” The shocked expression on Dana’s face was his greatest fear come to life. No. His greatest fear come to life was the pain that looked out at him from her wide blue eyes. “This...you and me. It can’t happen.”

“It just did.”

Hands in his pockets so that he didn’t pull her back into his arms, he said, “It can’t happen again.”

“You act like I’m going to force myself on you, Josh. I didn’t do this alone.”

He focused on L.G., until the puppy immediately reminded him of Dana, and that became painful, as well. Looking at the floor, he said, “I know that.”

“And before you assume that I’d allow a repeat performance, you might want to find out what I think of what just happened, rather than just announcing your opinion like it’s the only one that matters.”

That brought his head up. He’d never even considered her opinion. How did she know him so well already? “You don’t want it to happen again?”

“You sound so shocked.”

She hadn’t answered his question. And he wasn’t sure the implication was false, either. She was right. It had never occurred to him that she might have been disappointed. Or as upset as he was by what had just transpired between them.

“Did I hurt you?”

Sliding her purse on her shoulder, Dana glanced around, as though looking for something. “No,” she said.

“I’m handling this all wrong.”

Out in the kitchen, she grabbed the canvas bag she’d brought, leaving the capsules, ointment and food on the counter. “I don’t disagree with you there,” she said, walking by him without so much as a glance.

Josh reached for her hand. Pulled her to a stop. She didn’t pull away. And didn’t turn around, either.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He had to do something. To make things right again. And remembered something his father had said to him years before when he’d been given a small deal to handle and lost the sale.

The only real failure is to accept failure.

“I mean it, Dana.” He could tell her about Michelle. She might even understand, at least to some degree. She’d probably hold him responsible for Michelle’s comatose state. And that was fine, too. Good, actually. Because she’d know the whole truth about him.

But then he’d be the old Josh Redmond again.

And he couldn’t go back. To go back would be to accept failure.

Thoughts flew through his mind as she stood there, facing not him but the door. He couldn’t take the easy way out, even if, in the moment, it seemed the kindest thing to do.

“Hey.” He gave her hand a gentle tug. She turned then, and he could see the glisten of tears in her eyes. She wasn’t crying, though.

“I’d repeat tonight in an instant,” he said, looking her straight in the eye, “if I could know for certain that you wouldn’t be hurt.”