West Texas Nights

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West Texas Nights Page 26

by Sherryl Woods


  “Why?”

  To her irritation, he was acting as if she were trying to pin him down to set a wedding date. He wouldn’t even meet her gaze.

  “It just was, okay? Think of it as a momentary lapse in judgment.”

  She stared at him for a full minute and realized he was dead serious. He was dismissing all of that sizzling tension between them as if it had been no more than an unwanted fluke.

  Furious, she lashed out. “Well, believe me, cowboy, it won’t happen again.”

  She whirled around and walked away before he could see the humiliating tears that were stinging her eyes.

  “Val.”

  She ignored the command in his voice and kept right on walking. She didn’t stop until she’d reached the creek. Then she sat down in the shade of a tree and let the tears flow.

  “Damned fool,” she muttered, not certain whether she was thinking of herself or Slade when she said it. It probably didn’t much matter. The label fit both of them just as neatly.

  * * *

  “Fool,” Slade muttered under his breath as he watched Val storm off. He was forced to admit that she was justifiably furious.

  He’d messed up good this time. He’d lost his head earlier, when he’d seen her in a skimpy little bathing suit barely covered by some sheer, floating material that purported to be some sort of robe. He’d reacted with a purely male surge of testosterone, rather than the caution that usually characterized his encounters with her. No wonder she’d been so baffled at first.

  Oh, he’d been flirting all right. Walking straight down a very dangerous path. The only thing that had prevented him from making the mistake of a lifetime was Annie’s interruption. He owed the kid diving lessons and a whole lot more for that. If only she’d been a little quicker, perhaps he could have avoided hurting Val’s feelings, too.

  “Where’s Val?” Laurie asked, clearly undaunted by the scowl he shot at anyone who’d come close since Val’s departure.

  “Heading toward the creek last time I saw her,” he said, trying not to squirm under her knowing gaze.

  “Did you two have a fight?”

  “What would your assistant and I have to fight about?”

  “I can’t imagine,” she said lightly. “But it must have been something significant for her to run out on a party she pulled together for your daughter.”

  He glared at her, stung by the pointed reminder that he should be grateful to Val, rather than mistreating her. “Are you trying to make me feel even more guilty than I do?”

  “Yes,” she said without the least sign of contrition. “Val’s a wonderful woman and you treat her abominably. If you’re not interested, just tell her to back off.”

  “I have, on more than one occasion, as a matter of fact. She doesn’t listen. Maybe you should recommend to her that she steer clear of me,” he suggested.

  “Believe me, I’ve tried. She seems to have the crazy idea that you need saving from yourself. She’s also very fond of Annie. So am I, for that matter.”

  Relieved by the chance to change the subject, he seized the opening. “I hear you wrote a song for Annie.”

  Her expression brightened as it always did when she talked about her music. “As a matter of fact, I did. I was struggling with some lyrics and she said something that brought them into focus. I give her full credit.”

  “You going to sing it today?”

  “Maybe.” She gave him a look every bit as sly as one of Harlan’s. “If Val’s around to hear it. I always like to get her reaction when I’m still fiddling with a new song.”

  “In other words, if I go find her and drag her back, you’ll sing Annie’s song.”

  “You’re very quick for a cowboy.”

  “Whatever that means.”

  She patted his cheek. “For the record, I don’t think you’ll have to drag her back. Just be nice. Be honest. When you think about it, it’s really not so terribly much to ask.”

  Slade put aside his plate of food for the second time that afternoon. At this rate, he wasn’t even going to get a taste of the extravagant spread he’d paid for.

  “Keep an eye on Annie for me,” he said to Laurie.

  “Not a problem.”

  He headed for the creek, debating all the way whether he had any business getting anywhere near Val. However, when he saw her sitting on a rock, shoulders slumped, staring despondently at the water, he knew he’d been right to come. He was the one who’d ruined the day for her.

  He stopped several feet away. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

  She didn’t look up, but her shoulders visibly stiffened. “For?”

  “Starting something I shouldn’t have. Saying what I did. Take your pick.”

  “How about for being a jerk?”

  He grinned, accepting the judgment as fair. “That, too.” He settled down on the huge boulder next to her.

  “Why’d you do it?” she asked without turning her head.

  “Which part?”

  “Start something?”

  “Because I took one look at you in that outfit and I wanted to be sure that no other man at the party started getting ideas.” The words came out before he had a chance to censor them.

  Her head swiveled toward him at that. Fire flashed in her eyes. “You were branding me?”

  He winced at her indignant tone. “It wasn’t like it was a conscious thing, but in a manner of speaking, yes, I suppose I was.”

  The answer clearly riled her. “If that is not the most egotistical, presumptuous thing I have ever heard in all my life.”

  “Guilty,” he agreed. “I apologize again. I’ve got to say in my own defense, it took me by surprise, too, wanting you that badly.”

  She seemed startled by the admission and more than a little pleased. “You wanted me?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he said softly, his gaze traveling once more over the bathing suit that wasn’t even partially concealed by that ridiculously flimsy cover-up.

  “How about now?”

  He struggled with the urge to show her, then finally resisted. He couldn’t silence a heartfelt admission, though. “Oh, yeah,” he murmured.

  She nodded with satisfaction. “Good,” she said, and stood up in a graceful, fluid move that practically had Slade’s tongue hanging out. “I’m ready to go back now.”

  Great. He was so stirred up he was ready to throw her on the ground and make passionate love to her, and she was ready to return to the party.

  All for the best, he told himself over and over as she sashayed past. Wasn’t that exactly why he had come down here? Wasn’t his only mission to get her back to the party? Hadn’t he sworn not to get carried away again?

  Oh, sure. Like it had never once crossed his mind on the way down here that he might just finish that kiss, after all. Liar, liar, liar! He was pathetic.

  “Coming?” she inquired sweetly, amusement flashing in her eyes.

  “You know, darlin’, you’re a little like TNT.”

  “Oh?”

  “Small, but very volatile.”

  She gave a little nod of satisfaction, clearly pleased by the analogy. “Remember that the next time you get any crazy ideas about starting something you’re not prepared to finish, cowboy.”

  “Oh, I’ll remember it, believe me,” he said fervently. In fact, he figured it would take a month of ice-cold showers to get this afternoon’s little game out of his mind.

  He managed to get through the rest of the afternoon without doing anything else crazy, but when evening came and the music began, he couldn’t resist when Harlan Patrick all but shoved Val into his arms.

  “Take over for me, pal. I’m going to find my wife,” Harlan Patrick claimed. “Thanks for the dance, Val.”

  “Anytime,” she said, her gaze fixed on Slade. “Well?”

  Trapped, h
e held out a hand. “Would you care to dance?”

  “Thank you,” she said, moving into his arms as if she belonged there.

  Holding her loosely, he stared down into her eyes. “You might want to reconsider this. Since my leg got banged up, I’m not so light on my feet.”

  Her gaze clung to his. “It’s a slow song, Slade.”

  “So it is,” he said, tightening his embrace until her head was tucked under his chin, her breasts pressed against his chest.

  Big mistake, he concluded, when she was snuggled next to him. His blood heated to about one degree past boiling. Her rose-garden scent surrounded him, teasing at his senses.

  It had been a long time since he’d held a woman this close, longer still since he’d wanted one with this aching neediness. Thank heaven she’d changed out of that provocative bathing suit. If he’d felt silky, bare skin beneath his touch, he’d have been lost.

  Not that the sundress she wore was much of an improvement. Every time his hand slid up her back, his fingers brushed across soft, feminine flesh. And each time that happened, he could feel the shiver that washed over her. It was precisely the sort of responsiveness that made a man crave more. He was tempted to explore, to make the next caress more brazen and the one after that downright intimate.

  He knew with everything in him that Val would be willing, even eager. A deeply ingrained sense of honor had him holding back. She was the kind of woman who deserved more than he had to give. She deserved pretty words and heartfelt whispers. She deserved happily ever after. He couldn’t say for sure what tomorrow would bring, much less the day after that.

  He realized with a start that she was staring at him, her expression troubled.

  “Why so serious?” she asked.

  “Counting the beats in the music,” he lied. “If I don’t, I’ll stumble all over my feet and yours.”

  “Liar,” she accused softly. “You were thinking too hard again, only this time it was about me, wasn’t it?”

  Her uncanny knack for reading his mind was disconcerting. “Maybe.”

  “I’ll repeat what I said earlier. Sometimes it’s smarter to go with your instincts.”

  He shook his head, wishing it were that simple. “A boy goes with his instincts, Val. A man—especially a man with a daughter to raise—has to stop to consider the consequences.”

  “So it was Annie on your mind just now?”

  “No,” he said firmly. “It was you. Only you.”

  “But you said—”

  “I only meant that I can’t just rush in and take what I want. It wouldn’t be fair to you. It wouldn’t be fair to Annie. I don’t want her getting ideas about the two of us.”

  “That’s very noble,” Val said softly, but an increasingly familiar flash of fire in her eyes belied the quiet tone. “It’s also bull.”

  He stumbled. “Excuse me. Did I hear you correctly?”

  “You did. You’re scared, Slade. That’s what this is really about. You’re terrified that if you let your guard down for one single second, you might actually have to deal with real emotions. You’re terrified that whatever you start with me won’t begin and end with sex.”

  He supposed there was a certain amount of truth in that. He’d let his emotions get the upper hand once and look where that had gotten him. Suzanne had ripped his heart in two.

  “Maybe,” he agreed, clearly surprising her.

  “You’re admitting it?”

  “Sweetheart, I’m not oblivious to the truth. But saying it aloud doesn’t change anything.”

  “Of course it does. Once you recognize the problem, you can start to move on.”

  He grinned at the simplicity of that. “Just like that, huh?”

  “Exactly like that.”

  “You’re forgetting one thing.”

  “What?”

  “First, you have to want to move on.”

  She tripped. He steadied her, then met her gaze evenly. “I don’t,” he said succinctly.

  “Well, of course you do,” she said. “You can’t want to go through life all alone.”

  “I’m not alone. I have Annie. I have my work. I have friends, including you, I hope.”

  “Friends? You and me?” She said it as incredulously as if he’d asked her to muck stalls with him.

  “Why not?”

  “Because...” she blustered, then stopped.

  “Well?”

  “Because it would never work.”

  “Why not? We’re two intelligent adults. Surely we can keep our hands off each other, if we decide that’s the sensible thing to do.”

  Her gaze locked with his. “What if I don’t want to be sensible? What if I want to make a huge, glorious mistake by jumping into bed with you?”

  “Then you’ll be disappointed,” he said firmly. “Because it isn’t going to happen, Val. Not tonight. Not ever.”

  For some reason he couldn’t fathom, she seemed to find his declaration amusing. “Is that so?”

  “You can count on it.”

  “If you say so,” she agreed mildly.

  “We have an understanding then?” he asked, feeling it was somehow vital to get that nailed down.

  “Oh, yes,” she replied, with what could only be described as a silky purr.

  Slade regarded her uneasily. She’d capitulated too easily. She’d said all the right things, all the things he wanted to hear. So why didn’t he believe a word of it?

  Maybe it was because even as she’d said the words, her gaze had been locked on his lips as if she’d never seen a more fascinating, more desirable mouth. Naturally that avid speculation had made him want to kiss her all over again.

  Well, hell, he thought, as he took a decisive step back. This was going to be a whole lot harder than he’d anticipated. And Val, he predicted, wasn’t going to do one single thing to make it any easier.

  Seven

  “The party was totally awesome,” Annie declared as she walked home with her father afterward. She gazed up at him slyly. “I saw you dancing with Val. You were holding her real close. You like her, don’t you?”

  “She’s a very nice woman,” Slade said, hedging. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of—that Annie would start imagining a relationship where none existed.

  Annie was having none of that. “Dad! You know what I mean. You really like her.”

  He scowled and put it more plainly. “Annie, don’t go getting any ideas. Val and I are just friends, nothing more.”

  “I think she likes you,” she added, as if he hadn’t spoken. “She gets this funny look on her face when she sees you, kinda like she’s got a fever or something.”

  Slade wondered how Val would feel about that description. She’d probably welcome it, declare Annie to be a very bright, intuitive child. Which she was, of course, even if it was irksome.

  “What makes you think this look she gets on her face has anything to do with me?” he asked, curious about a ten-year-old’s reasoning when it came to romance. Maybe if he understood it, he could nip these crazy ideas in the bud.

  Annie regarded him as if he were dense. “Because she only looks that way when she sees you, silly.”

  “And you think it’s because she likes me? Why?” he persisted.

  “Because it’s the way Laurie looks at Harlan Patrick, and she loves him, right? So it must mean that Val at least likes you a little.”

  Ah, Slade thought, that look. Laurie and Harlan Patrick did stare at each other like a couple of lovesick calves most of the time. To Slade’s surprise, not even marriage had wiped that expression off their faces. Maybe they were still in the honeymoon stage.

  Come to think of it, though, most of the Adamses wore that look when they spotted their mates. Even Harlan and Janet, who’d been married for years, brightened when they saw each other. Slade hadn’t thoug
ht such infatuation could last past the marriage vows, but in this family it had. He still thought it was probably an anomaly, something all but impossible for an outsider to obtain.

  “Look, kiddo, I meant what I said. Don’t go getting any ideas about me and Val, okay? I’m not looking to get married again.”

  “What about a mom, though? I could really use one,” Annie declared in a wistful way guaranteed to snatch the rug out from under him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said sympathetically. “I’m afraid it’s not in the cards. But I think Val would very much like to be your friend.”

  Annie sighed heavily. “It’s not the same.”

  Slade sighed, too. “I know, darlin’.” Even though he’d declared that to be his own goal earlier, having Val for a friend didn’t seem likely to measure up for him, either.

  * * *

  “You look pleased with yourself,” Laurie said, when she found Val sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea the next morning. “Basking in your success?”

  “Which success would that be?”

  “I was thinking of the party. What about you?”

  Val gave her a grin. “I was thinking about the fact that I very nearly provoked Slade into forgetting all about those rigid principles of his. Of course, he dredged them up at the last second and spoiled things, but it was promising.”

  Laurie poured herself a cup of tea and sat down opposite her, her expression suddenly serious. “I thought principles were a rare thing in a man, so rare that they should be treasured when we stumble across them.”

  “They are,” Val agreed. “Up to a point.”

  “In other words, the man still refuses to let you seduce him.”

  “So far,” Val said, undaunted. “I think he’s weakening, though.”

  “What happens if he does?” Laurie asked pointedly. “What happens if you finally succeed in getting him into bed, maybe just one time, and that’s as far as it goes? Would you be satisfied with that?”

  Val scowled. “No,” she admitted. “I’m in this for the long haul.”

 

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