Divulging Secrets

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Divulging Secrets Page 5

by Lynn Burke


  We rode in silence for a short time while I considered what else to say.

  “The farm gives me purpose,” I finally said.

  “You’re hoping that by working for you I’ll feel the same?”

  I nodded, and turned on my signal for the next exit. “I’m hoping that two hurting, lonely souls can find some sort of happiness as friends—or more.”

  “I would like to be your friend, Tom,” she said quietly. “Giving trust will be hard, though.”

  “How about we just take things moment by moment, one work day at a time—being friends—and we’ll let nature take its course.” Another glance at her blue eyes revealed conflict. “Give me a chance to earn your trust.”

  She half-snorted. “That could take a lifetime.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” I pulled into the theater parking lot, and chose a spot farther away from the entrance where less congestion assured no dings on my doors.

  Candace grabbed her purse off of the floor, and I hopped out. She climbed from the car before I made it around to open the passenger door. I shut it behind her and shoved my keys in my pocket, the heat from the pavement rising in waves to warm my skin.

  Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she smiled up at me, but her eyes still betrayed wariness. “I’d like to give you a chance, Tom.”

  I grinned as butterflies took off in my stomach again. “Thank you. Now, come on. I’ve been dying to see this movie since it came out two weeks ago.”

  We ambled through the parking lot, her head moving side to side, scanning like a frightened deer stepping out into the open to graze. That desire to wrap her in my arms and set her at ease, to protect her from whomever she’d ratted out, swelled in my chest like a swarm of honey bees. I kept my hands to myself, though, and did a quick check of my own of our surroundings.

  The blast of air conditioning upon entering the theater cooled me off, and I drew a deep breath, assuring myself I would someday find my way into Candace’s heart. No matter what it took.

  Chapter Seven

  Candace

  Way too aware of the body beside mine and cologne I’d never smelled on him, I fought to focus on the big screen. I chowed down on the popcorn soaked in butter and devoured the snowcaps, all in an attempt to keep my mind from wandering to what Tom would feel like pressed up against me.

  Skin on hot skin, his hard muscles beneath my fingertips, his cock in my mouth. Deep inside my pussy.

  I lost count of the times I squirmed on the seat, trying to ease the ache between my thighs. My panties were soaked, my insides a needy, trembling mess. I so needed to get laid.

  The credits finally rolled, and I stood to follow him up the aisle, cursing my binge eating throughout the day. My stomach roiled, and the fluttering of nervousness didn’t help any.

  He found me attractive, he’d said. His body assured me of that truth more than once, with the long, hard length I’d caught an eyeful of—and felt pressed against me as we’d danced beneath the stars.

  Damn.

  Face hot, I stuck close to his side as we made our way through the crowded foyer. A group of noisy teenagers, shoving at each other and laughing, approached. A college-aged couple hung on each other near the front doors ahead of us, their lips fused, his hands on her ass. An elderly couple glanced at the younger, disapproval clear by the woman’s pursed lips.

  Someone barreled into me from my right, and I shrieked, my arms flailing as I slammed into Tom. His arms wrapped around me, and he spun, placing me behind him, his body hard and tense beneath my clutching hands as he turned back to face my attacker.

  “Sorry, dude!” One of the teenagers laughed, another of his buddies punching his arm.

  Tom didn’t say a word, and the group of kids moved away a few feet before he relaxed beneath my grip. “Are you okay?” he asked, turning. A frown furrowed his brow, and heat poured from his green eyes, the kind that made me shrink away. He ran his fingertips down my arm and grasped my hand. “Candace?”

  “Y-yes.” I scanned the theater, my head jerking side to side as my heart raced, pumping adrenaline through my system.

  Tom pulled me against his side and started toward the exit, his hand grasping my waist.

  I leaned into his warmth, and even though I’d thought for that split second that one of Papa’s associates had found me, I recognized the security of Tom’s half-embrace. The strength of him slid over my senses, and I longed to burrow into him, hide beneath his skin.

  The temperature had fallen a bit with the sun’s descent, and I breathed deep, trying to ease the tightness in my chest as we walked across the parking lot, my side still pressed against Tom.

  He seemed reluctant to release me as we approached the car, but I forced myself to step away from his protective half-embrace. He opened my door, and I slid in, a shuddering huge breath wracking my body. I closed my eyes as he shut my door, and leaned my head against the headrest.

  Would I ever be able to live a normal life, one where I wasn’t constantly looking over my shoulder, scrutinizing every person approaching me or glancing my way? The adrenaline had faded, and tremors rippled through me. I clutched my purse in my hands, trying to slow my heartbeat.

  The driver door opened and closed, Tom’s presence and the mild scent of his pussy-tingling cologne filling the small space. Tension eased from my shoulders, and I opened my eyes.

  “Okay?” he asked again, tucking my hair behind my ear.

  I inhaled until it hurt and nodded. “Yeah.”

  He started the car, and we drove most of the way home in silence. My body rid itself of the adrenaline after-effects, and I finally slumped in the seat, awareness of Tom’s closeness reheating my body.

  I squeezed my thighs together and angled to face him, determined to chat to occupy my mind.

  His t-shirt molded to his chest and biceps, and I found myself licking my lower lip.

  “So what other chores would I have if I decided to work at Crooked Fence Farm?” I asked, needing to take my mind off the desire soaking my panties again.

  “Every day is different,” he said, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “Depends on the weather and what’s in season. Right now, it’s mostly caring for the animals. Green beans will be ready soon. In a couple of months, the real harvest begins. That’s when we’ll be busiest.”

  “You’ll teach me how to be a farmer?”

  He grinned at me, and flutters rose in my stomach at the curve of his lips. Lips I’d tasted and wanted on my body. “You’re going to ruin those manicured hands.”

  I glanced at my nails, inspecting the polish job I’d done earlier that afternoon. “Dirt under my nails and callouses?”

  He chuckled. “Those two things I can definitely promise you.”

  Dropping my hand back to my lap, I smiled. “A tan and muscles?”

  “They’ll both come in time if you stick around long enough.”

  I studied his profile in the passing headlights. Wavy hair hung long over his brow. Deep set eyes, a strong nose, a shadowed square jaw and generous lips. How he hadn’t gotten snatched up, I didn’t know.

  While I felt bad about his past, losing his love, Darah, a part of me was happy he didn’t carry a ball and chain. If another woman shared the farm I doubted I’d have stayed for so long.

  I wanted Tom, and I would have him, I decided.

  A fuck-buddy relationship didn’t require trust. He’d have the satisfaction of a good lay, and my itch wouldn’t tickle anymore.

  Nerves kicked in, and as he parked by his house, I rubbed my damp palms down my jeans. “Do you want to come over for those cookies?” I asked once I climbed out of the car.

  “Been looking forward to it.” He flashed a grin, his white teeth bright in the darkness.

  Archie crowed from his cage—Tom had put the chickens in for the night before we’d left—but we both ignored the rooster while ambling across the clearing to my place.

  Stars twinkled down on us, reminding me of our dance an
d the kiss that had weakened my knees. My heartbeat kicked up a few notches. I unlocked the door and moved inside. “Come on in.”

  I walked over the threshold, tossing my purse onto the table, and the second I heard him shut the door behind us, I turned. “So.” God, those lips… Why talk? I wrapped my arms around his neck. It didn’t take too much tugging to get Tom to lower his head. Forget the soft brush of lips. I took what I wanted, slipping my tongue into his mouth when he moaned and clasped his hands on my hips.

  Pressing against the hardness of his body sent a rush of arousal through me. Panties soaked clear through, I groaned and slid my tongue in along his, retreating and thrusting again, imitating what I wanted him to do to my body.

  Tom grasped my ass and lifted me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, settling my pussy against the hard ridge in his pants. Moaning, I ground myself against him, and he turned, pressing my back against the door.

  The heavy breaths, gasps, and moans raced my pulse. “Bedroom,” I whispered against his lips as he thrust against me.

  Rockwell’s “Somebody’s Watching Me” jingled from my purse.

  “Goddammit!” I growled.

  “Ignore it,” Tom murmured against my neck, his tongue and teeth buzzing my brain.

  “Can’t.” I slid my legs down from around his waist and wiggled my way from his caging arms. “It’s my pain-in-the-ass babysitter.”

  Hands shaking, I grabbed my purse and pulled out my cell. “What?”

  Charlie chuckled in my ear. “Bad time?”

  I glanced back at Tom. Lips parted and pupils dominating the green of his eyes, he stared at me, body tense like a lion ready to pounce. “Yeah, you could say that.”

  “I wanted to let you know that the body of one of your father’s associates was found earlier today.”

  My desire-foggy brain cleared a bit as another adrenaline shot rushed through me. “Where?”

  “Guatemala.”

  “He’s dead?”

  “Yes, which means whatever price he had on your head is null and void.”

  I slumped down into one of the kitchen chairs, closing my eyes. “One more to go. Any leads on that asshole?”

  “Nothing new, no. How are you holding up, Candace?”

  “Good,” I answered on automatic as Tom shuffled on his feet behind me.

  “You can trust the FBI to find him. I promise.”

  I snorted and opened my eyes, my gaze settling on the container of cookies I’d set aside for Tom on the counter. “Trust. Something I’ll never be able to offer a person ever again.”

  “I’ll be by next week,” Charlie said.

  “I really don’t need a babysitter, Charlie.”

  “Protocol. Besides, I miss you.”

  I rolled my eyes and didn’t comment.

  “Call me if you need me.”

  “Yeah, whatever.” I hit “end” and tossed my phone back on the table.

  “Good news?” Tom asked from behind me.

  “One of the assholes I implicated was found dead earlier today.” I turned to find him relaxed once more, hands shoved in his pockets. “One less price on my head.”

  Tom smiled, but the light didn’t reach his eyes. “You must be relieved.”

  I blew a breath between my lips. “I’ll feel ten times better once they find the last.” I stood and moved toward him. Brushing his hair off his forehead, I smiled. “Where were we?”

  “I think I ought to get going.”

  Shut down. The hands I’d lifted to drape around his neck again fell to my sides. “Oh.”

  “It’s getting late.”

  “Yeah, okay.” I hugged my waist. “So, uh … work tomorrow?”

  He turned for the door. “How about you start Monday?”

  “Sure.”

  I stood in the doorway as he walked away without a backward glance.

  What the fuck? Frowning, I shut the door, cursing Charlie’s timing and whatever had happened to change Tom’s mind.

  Chapter Eight

  Tom

  The next morning, I scowled while stacking firewood, my mind on how our date had ended. I had walked out of Candace’s house without a real explanation after almost fucking her up against her front door. Hormones had gotten the best of me, and the feel of Candace’s warm, soft curves pressed all up against me had about blown my mind. Giving in to primitive urges and burying myself balls deep in her wet pussy had been on my mind … until Charlie had called.

  Candace had told him she would never trust again, and while she’d said the same thing to me before, the truth of her statement in that moment hit me like a splash of cold water.

  I liked her enough that I wanted to give myself another chance at building a relationship. Willing to risk my heart—something I never thought I’d be able to do again. But if trust wasn’t solid between two individuals, the relationship wouldn’t work.

  Bummed and aching, I’d walked out before making the mistake of getting my emotions involved. One of the hardest fucking things I’d ever done.

  Still bummed, my balls temporarily relieved, I continued loading my arms with split wood.

  Archie crowed and took off. A few minutes later, footsteps approached, and I glanced over my shoulder.

  “We’re stacking firewood?” Candace cocked an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips. “Seriously?”

  Chuckling, I picked up another piece of split wood and stacked it on top of the pile in my arms. “A homestead needs fire to keep warm in the winter.”

  “What, you don’t have electric heat?” She dropped her arms, eyeing the pile of wood I’d split over the previous couple of weeks.

  “I do, but the wood is free. Grab those gloves I put out for you. They’ll keep you from getting splinters.”

  Candace huffed a breath through her nose, but donned the leather gloves and bent to grab a few pieces.

  Still inwardly chuckling, I strode to the stack I’d started building beside my back door. I placed each piece on top of the stack, fitting them together like a puzzle to conserve space—and keep the stack sturdy.

  “Jesus, how much do you need?” Candace said, rounding the corner of the house and pulling up short.

  I’d already stacked about two cords. “Can’t ever have too much.” I motioned her over, and she ambled my way, a wary look in her eyes.

  I took the wood from Candace and stacked it. While I’d considered all kinds of ways to talk to her about my walking out, I couldn’t make myself bring up the topic. We worked together in silence except for the sound of our stacking wood.

  We finished up an hour later, sweat beading on both of our foreheads, and soaked down the front of my shirt.

  “So damn hot,” Candace muttered, ripping off her gloves. She grabbed the water bottle she’d brought along and guzzled. Some water dribbled from the corner of her mouth, and I stared as it slid down her jaw and onto her neck.

  The thought of licking the droplet and tasting the salt of her skin twitched my cock even though I’d jerked off a couple hours earlier in hopes to keep from walking around all day with a hard-on. No such luck, I realized, turning to get my own water bottle.

  Four stacks deep, I mused, eyeing the firewood and forcing my mind off the wood inside my jeans. That ought to get me through the winter.

  “What’s next?” Candace asked.

  Grinning, I turned. “Time to clean out the chicken coop.”

  “You mean like shovel the shit out?”

  “Yep.”

  She grimaced. “Not looking forward to that.”

  “We’ll wheelbarrow it over to the compost pile. After a couple of months, it’ll be black gold fertilizer.”

  “If you say so.” Candace slapped her gloves off on her jeans. “Show me what to do.”

  The next couple of days, I introduced Candace to the daily chores on the farm. She enjoyed gathering the eggs and chatting with my girls, but I pretended to not pay attention. Archibald Reginald followed on her heels throughout the day, only veer
ing off course to grab an occasional bug or grub. He’d even taken to camping out on her front stoop until I had to put him away for the night.

  He took a dust bath beside us while I pounded in new stakes for a new fence I needed for the goats. He humped every girl he could nab while Candace and I repaired a few of the pallets I’d used for garden fencing. He sat beside her and preened, clucking quietly as we took a break, guzzling our ice water.

  “Sore?” I asked as Candace rubbed the back of her neck.

  “A little. Shoveling those woodchips yesterday tightened my neck.”

  I considered offering her a neck and shoulder rub, but talked myself out of it. “Let’s get these last two pallets hooked up, and we’ll call it a day.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Since there’s no tub in the rental, you’re welcome to come over and sit in the hot tub tonight if you want.” I didn’t know where the hell that idea came from, but the thought of her in a bathing suit a foot or so away from me—

  “I’d love that.” Her face lit up.

  Screwed, I realized from the glint in her eyes. The woman wanted me—no doubt about it. I wanted her, too, but I wasn’t about to be some fuck buddy to toy with whenever the mood struck. If I was going to dive into a second chance with love, I wanted to do things right.

  We finished up repairing the fence and went our separate ways, Candace’s promise to return at sunset setting butterflies fluttering through my stomach. I grabbed a sandwich for dinner, my eyes on the clock. Waiting. I should have climbed in the shower and jerked off. Twice.

  I showered, but didn’t let off the steam brewing in my balls.

  “Hey.” Her husky voice shot straight to my groin, and I cursed myself for not easing the worst case of blue balls ever.

  “Hey back,” I said over my shoulder while taking the cover off the collapsible hot tub. She wore a long t-shirt that ended mid-thigh and smiled as she lifted a bottle of wine and two glasses. “Hope you like dry red.”

  My mouth watered, and not for the wine. “Sure,” I said, my voice strained. I turned around, pulled a chair close to the hot tub to act as a table, and stepped into the steaming water. “Come on in.”

 

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