Blame It on Texas

by Christie Craig

  Sitting on the side of the bed, trying to open the foil package, he felt her shift, and before he knew what she intended, her hand had moved between his legs. She didn’t circle him with her palm, but she oh so gently touched the tip of his dick. He looked down and saw he had moisture collected there, and she rubbed it around his head.

  Growling and holding himself in check, he finally used his teeth to open the package. And in seconds, he’d moved her hand, slipped on the rubber, flipped her on her back, and moved on top of her.

  Her hair was in her eyes, and he moved it away. And then with one quick adjustment of his hips, he was inside her.

  She was tighter than he’d imagined. While everything in him wanted to push, go deep, and fast, he feared she might not be ready. So slowly, inch by sweet inch, he moved inside her, pulling out and pushing in. She raised her hips to meet his. He let her set the rhythm and waited to know she was there before he moved faster.

  Her hips came faster against his, and he didn’t hesitate. She closed her eyes, leaned her head back, and while his balls were tight, his dick about to explode, for just a second all he wanted to do was watch her.

  She gasped, made that sweet little squeal again, and he knew the second she came from her expression, even before he felt her wall of muscles start contracting, milking his seed.

  He rose up on his elbows and moved faster, deeper, and before he was ready, he felt the sweet throbbing explode into something so wonderful, so beautiful, that it took his breath.

  This time he was the one making noises. When the wave of pleasure passed, he remembered not to fall on top of her. He reached around her, pulled her against him, and fell to his side, holding her butt against him because he didn’t want to leave her body just yet.

  When he could talk, he whispered in her ear. “That was amazing.”

  Her face was pillowed on his chest, and he felt her nod.

  Wrapping his arms tight around her, he searched for something else to say to try to communicate how awesome he really thought it was, but the words weren’t there. He wasn’t sure they existed. But he’d search for them later, when his mind was fresh.

  Suddenly, he heard a quick intake of air, and fear shot to his gut when he recognized that sound. Zoe Adams was crying. But why?

  He pulled back, brushed her hair from her face, and sure as hell, her eyes were wet.

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  She shook her head. “No.” She touched his face. “I always cry when I… have an orgasm.”

  He studied her closer. “Good tears?” He remembered reading that some women did this.

  She nodded.

  He brushed a few wet streaks from her cheeks. “Okay.”

  She grinned at him, teary-eyed and all. It was so precious that his heart folded over onto itself.

  They stared at each other, and again he felt the crazy need to say something. But what? When the words I love you formed in his head and shot to the tip of his tongue, he bit them back. He couldn’t say them. He couldn’t feel this.

  It wasn’t… logical. It wasn’t part of his plan. This was… temporary.

  He rolled all the way on his back and brought her with him, wrapping his arms around her, holding her tight against him. He felt his sex slip out of her. He closed his eyes, missing that connection of being in her body.

  He brushed his hand over her back, still not able to talk.

  She lifted her head, resting her chin on the center of his chest and met his gaze. “It’s going to be a very short two weeks.”

  He nodded, not knowing how she’d somehow read his mind. Then his chest tightened to the point of real pain. Two weeks weren’t enough. He needed more.

  Zoe awoke to pitch blackness. Her breath caught. Her mind put her back in the closet. She was hungry, dirty. She wanted her mama.

  “You okay?” a deep male voice asked. And just like that, it all went away. The fear, the panic. Her head was on his chest. His arms were around her. Solid, strong.

  “Fine,” she said.

  “You had the dream, didn’t you?”

  She closed her eyes. “No, I just remembered.”

  His arms tightened. He ran his hand up her back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Not about that.” Realizing he sounded wide awake, she cut her eyes to where she knew the window was. No light peered around the edges. “What time is it?”

  “A little after one,” he said.

  “You haven’t slept?”

  “Not yet.”

  She tried to pull away, and he caught her. “Is it because of me? I can sleep on the sofa.”

  “Dios, no. It’s not you. Sometimes I can’t sleep. This feels good.”

  It was the first time she’d heard him say a Spanish word, other than to curse. “You can read if you want. The light doesn’t bother me. I sleep with the light on most of the time.”

  “I’m going to catch who did this, Zoe.” His voice sounded angry. “If they’re still alive, they’re going to pay.”

  She let his words run around her head, bumping into all sorts of emotions. “I know this sounds crazy. I don’t care so much about catching anyone. I just want to know for sure. I want answers.” She buried her head back on his chest. “I want to know why my parents… why the Adamses did this.”

  He got quiet. “You do realize that if we prove you are Caroline Bradford, then there will be an inheritance. A lot of money.”

  She bit down on her lip. “Now I know you are going to think I’m crazy. But I don’t want the money. Because if I take it, then people everywhere will think that’s what this was all about. And it wasn’t. Never has been.”

  “Yeah, but the money could make things easier for you. You could take some time off from work.”

  “I don’t want to take any more time off. I love my job. It kills me that I’m missing the first month. That’s when the kids bond with you.”

  He got quiet for a few minutes. “Why did you become a teacher?”

  “My mom would take me with her sometimes to watch her teach, and she was so good at it. She loved it, and I knew that I wanted to be just like her.” Her chest hurt remembering how much she’d loved this woman. “Sometimes I want to stop loving them. But I can’t.”

  His arms tightened around her. “Then quit trying.” She closed her eyes and just breathed. The room smelled like sex, and it made her remember how good it had been. She’d cried. And she’d lied to him about it. She didn’t always cry when she came. She’d only cried because she realized she was in love with him. Another pain hit her chest; Tyler Lopez was somebody else she was going to have to try to stop loving.

  Her throat tightened. She’d gone into this knowing it could happen. She just had to enjoy the next two weeks and worry about picking up the pieces later.

  They lay in the dark, not talking. She knew he was still awake; she could feel it in the way he breathed. A few minutes later, she pulled away and sat up.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “I think I’ll take a shower.”

  “Wait.”

  The light came on. She looked back at him. She felt naked, a tad vulnerable. But the insecurities faded when she saw the way his eyes moved over her. Or was it how he looked in bed, his naked chest glowing in the lamplight, his hair mussed, the sheet resting low on his waist.

  “You want company?” he asked.

  She noticed the tent in the sheet.

  Just enjoy it, deal with the fallout later. “As long as you don’t hog the soap,” she said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  RICK ROLLED OUT of bed at six with his usual morning hard-on. But this morning instead of just muttering he needed to get laid, he thought of Ellen. Getting naked and sweaty, and doing all the things she’d said they were never going to do.

  He remembered their conversation on the phone.

  “Then why are you attracted to me?”

  “I don’t know. Do you need saving?”

  He also reca
lled how she’d answered the phone, thinking he was someone else. But damn, his gut told him she did need saving from something, or someone.

  Not that he was going there. He needed her right now, and his gut also told him that if he pushed for more, she’d pull back. He wasn’t pushing. If she needed him—for dirtying up the sheets, or whatever—he’d be there. But he wasn’t going to risk pissing her off. From now on, he was on his best behavior.

  At ten o’clock, he had to appear in court to testify on a murder case that should have been put to bed a year ago. A no-good bastard had killed his mom.

  Donning his suit pants and a white button-down, he slung his tie over his suit coat. No way would he wear it until he had to.

  Going to the kitchen to pour himself a cup, he checked his messages on his cell. He had ten voice mails from Candy. Fuck!

  His doorbell rang. Dropping his phone beside his coffee, he went to see who the hell it was at this ungodly hour. Looking through the peephole, he saw an older woman. It took a second to recognize her. Candy’s mom.

  His gut knotted, thinking something might be wrong with Ricky; his hands shook as he unbolted the door.

  He yanked open the door. “What’s wrong?” The words barely left his mouth, when he saw his son beside her.

  “Hey, Ricky.” He tried to get the panic out of his voice. Then he met the woman’s eyes. “Come in.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know how to put this, but things are bad with Candy. She doesn’t want the kid. She dropped him off a week ago. But I have to work.” She held out a suitcase. “This ain’t much, but Candy didn’t bring much.”

  Rick took the suitcase, his eyes still on the tears in his son’s big green eyes. He gripped his hand tighter around the suitcase’s handle. It took everything he had not to slug the woman for her brutal words.

  Instead, he knelt down and touched his son’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. I swear it.”

  The boy wouldn’t look at him. That hurt. Rick stood, and for the kid’s sake, he forced himself to say the right thing. “Thank you for bringing him.”

  She nodded. He reached for Ricky with his free hand and pulled him inside, wanting the woman gone before she said something else that hurt his son. He started to shut the door.

  She put out her hand. “I had to pay a babysitter a couple of times. Could you…?”

  Gritting his teeth so hard it hurt, he reached for his wallet. He handed her a couple of twenties and then shut the door.

  He breathed in and out, trying to hide the fury. Then he looked at his son, and his chest grew heavy with emotion.

  “Hey, Ricky. You hungry?”

  He shook his head.

  “I make a mean pancake.” Were pancakes okay to feed kids? “Or an egg and toast?”

  Ricky shook his head again and went over and sat on the sofa without talking.

  When Zoe woke up the next morning, it was almost nine and she was alone. But on the bedside table was a plate with a banana sandwich and a note. She laughed and picked up the note.

  Hey beautiful,

  I didn’t want to wake you, but I didn’t forget our deal. Not knowing what you liked, I did the best I could. I didn’t want to leave you, but… Dallas and Austin would start asking questions if I didn’t show up in the office. Come see me when you wake up. I miss you already,

  XOXO,

  T.

  Zoe pulled the letter to her chest and started crying.

  A little after ten, Ellen stood from her desk, walked back to the office, and stuck her head in the door. “The printer still won’t print,” she told Tyler, who’d cleaned off all the papers on his desk.

  “Really?” He smiled. “Must be a loose wire. Easy fix.” He popped up, looking extra cheery. He glanced at the paper he had in his hands, wadded it up, and tossed it into Dallas’s trash can. “Two points.” He walked out.

  Ellen looked up at Dallas and Austin, who both wore smirks on their faces. She knew exactly what they were thinking, too. “Looks like somebody had a good night.”

  Dallas and Austin burst out laughing. “He hasn’t stopped grinning since he got here,” Austin said.

  A bell rang. Ellen looked toward the front office. “Hey, the bell’s working now.” Tyler must have also connected the chime. Now when someone walked in, it would ring, letting her know they had company.

  She took off toward the front to greet the visitors.

  When she cut the corner, she came to a quick stop. Rick stood whispering to Tyler beside her desk. A young boy stood nearby petting Bud, who had his head hanging out over the edge of the casket. Just one look at the boy’s dark hair and bright green eyes, and she knew he was Rick’s son. The boy glanced at her and then shifted his gaze back to Bud.

  “So you met Bud?” Ellen moved to the boy.

  Rick and Tyler looked up. “Hey.” Rick nodded at Ellen. “Ellen Wise, this is my son, Ricky.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ricky,” Ellen said.

  The boy looked up but didn’t stop petting Bud. “Is that his name? Bud?”

  “Yup.”

  Rick stared at the kid with a look of relief that she didn’t quite understand.

  “He’s an English bulldog,” Rick said.

  The boy shot Rick a quick glance. Rick looked back at Tyler. “Well?”

  Tyler shrugged. “It’s fine with me. If she doesn’t mind.”

  “Mind what?” Ellen asked.

  Rick moved in and motioned toward the hall. Tyler walked over to the boy. “Do you want to see Bud do his tricks?”

  Ricky nodded.

  Ellen noticed Rick looking back at his son. Then he glanced back at her, and she followed him down the hall.

  “Hey, Rick,” Dallas said. “What’s up?”

  Rick ran his hand through his hair and looked back at her. “I came by to ask a big favor of Ellen and you guys.”

  Dallas exchanged a glance with Austin. “What is it?”

  “My kid.” Rick glanced at her. “My ex’s mother just dropped him off at my place this morning.”

  “I didn’t know you had a kid,” Dallas said.

  “Yeah. He’s been with his mother in Louisiana. I’ve been trying to get custody, so this is a good thing, but I’m in a jam. I took the day off to try to take care of things, but I’ve got a court appearance, a murder case; I can’t miss it.” Rick looked at Ellen with pleading in his eyes. “I’ve got to testify, and I was hoping that maybe Ellen could just keep an eye on him here for an hour or two.”

  Ellen saw the confusion in Dallas’s eyes.

  “I can do it.” Ellen spoke at the same time another voice said the same thing.

  Ellen looked at the door where Zoe stood.

  “I don’t have anything else to do,” Zoe said.

  “It’s fine with me.” Ellen looked back at Rick. “Between Zoe and me, we’ll manage.”

  Relief washed over Rick’s face. “Thank you.” He looked at his watch and then the door. “I should check on him.”

  Ellen walked out behind him. “Is everything okay?” she asked.

  Rick shook his head. “Hell, no! Right in front of the boy, Candy’s mom told me Candy didn’t want him anymore. I swear to God I almost hit her.”

  “Oh, my!” She motioned Rick to move into the conference room and closed the door behind them. “I’m so sorry.” She touched his arm. “How is Ricky taking it?”

  “I don’t know. The first word he said all day was to you. I couldn’t get him to eat anything, either. I’m so fucked, Ellen.”

  “No, you’re not. It’ll be fine. He’s scared and needs some time to adjust.”

  He grimaced. “I called the lady who babysits your daughter, and she said she could take Ricky next week. I’ve already told my lieutenant that I’m taking the rest of the week off to try to figure everything out.”

  She nodded. “It will be fine,” she told him again.

  He looked at her. “I’m so scared, I’m shaking. I don’t know where to start. Should I take hi
m to the doctor?”

  “Is he hurt?” Her gut tightened.

  “Not that I know of, but there’s no telling what he’s been through.” He raked his hand through his hair again. “I should be shot for letting this happen!”

  “You were trying to get custody,” she told him, feeling his pain.

  “I should have done it years ago.” He closed his eyes, and when he opened them, she saw the moisture there. “I swear to God, if Ricky’s messed up because I screwed up, I’m never going to forgive myself.”

  He inhaled deeply, held the air a moment, and then blew it back out.

  She moved her hand from his arm and touched his chest. “Don’t borrow problems. Take it one step at a time. Kids are so resilient.”

  He placed his hand over hers. “Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.” Frowning, he looked at his watch. “I gotta go. I swear, I’ll come right back here when it’s over.” He started out, then turned around. “I don’t know the redhead. Do you think she’s okay to watch him?”

  The fact that he wasn’t willing to leave Ricky with a stranger gave her perception of him another boost. “It’s okay. She’s a kindergarten teacher. But I’ll be here, too.”

  He walked out.

  Ellen followed him into the front office. Zoe and Tyler stood beside Ricky. The fact that Tyler had his arm around Zoe’s waist told Ellen they’d been right about Tyler’s good night.

  “Roll over,” Tyler said. But the dog kept raising his paw.

  Ricky chuckled. “He doesn’t want to,” the boy said.

  Ellen saw a smile brighten Rick’s face when he heard his son laugh. Rick walked up to his son and knelt down. “I’m gonna have to go for a few hours, but I’ll be back. I promise.”

  The boy nodded but didn’t speak. Ellen saw the disappointment in Rick’s expression as he ruffled his son’s hair. Her heart ached for Rick, and for Ricky.

  “Be good,” Rick said. Then he looked back at Ellen, nodded, and walked out.

  Ellen brought a chair for Ricky over to her desk, and Tyler loaned the kid his laptop to play games. She told him all about Britney, and an hour or so later, he started opening up. Ellen got the feeling that the kid was going to be okay.

  “Where is your little girl?” he asked.