by Cara Summers
“As long as you keep giving me ammunition.” Dallas exhaled and sheepishly met her mother’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I really am. I don’t want to argue.”
Andrea looked at her a long, silent moment and then sighed. “Well, as you’ve often pointed out, what you do for a living is your business. I am curious, though, what does Eric think about it?”
Dallas hesitated. The question had taken her aback. She swallowed, tried to come up with a flip remark and couldn’t.
Her mother stared with open curiosity, and then a slow, amused smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “He doesn’t know, does he?”
Dallas stiffened. God, all she wanted to do was leave. Right now. Get back to Manhattan. To Eric’s apartment, where anything seemed possible.
The pity that entered her mother’s eyes was almost more than Dallas could take. “If you’re too embarrassed to tell him,” she said gently, “then, honey, you’ve got a lot to think about.”
DURING DINNER THE CONVERSATION centered mostly on a volatile court case that was in the news but to which none of the Shea legal eagles had any affiliation. Lots of opinions, though. Which made for a lively discussion.
These were the times that Dallas missed. When she was in high school and her friends would come over for dinner, they were always surprised. The expectation was that dinner at the Sheas’ would be a quiet, dignified affair. Rarely was that the case.
Since Dallas had little opinion on the subject and wasn’t about to get into another debate with Cody over justification of the death penalty, she got up to help Tilly with dessert. Deeply involved in the conversation, Eric glanced at her and smiled before returning another of Cody’s volleys. He looked as if he were actually enjoying himself, and even her brother seemed more animated and taking great pleasure in the challenging arguments Eric presented.
This time she didn’t have to ask Dakota to babysit Eric in her absence. Not just because the conversational tide was unlikely to change but because she knew her mother would derail any personal talk of Dallas.
Odd, really, that she’d consider her mother an ally. But she’d been more subdued during the meal, sitting quietly and thoughtfully, sometimes glancing at Dallas and giving her an encouraging smile. Weird. Totally weird. But there it was.
She carried two stacks of dirty dinner dishes into the kitchen with her and placed them in the sink. Tilly was making coffee and she turned around when she heard Dallas.
“Leave those,” she said. “I’ll load the dishwasher while you eat dessert.”
“I have a better idea.” Dallas turned on the water to rinse the plates. “Eat dessert with us.”
“I’m watching my sugar.”
“Then have fruit. You’re part of the family. You should be eating with us.” Dallas looked around, suddenly interested in what Tilly had made, and spotted the apple-caramel pie. Oh, God. Not good. Dallas’s favorite. She could eat the whole thing.
“You sound like your mother. Like I’ve told her many times, I eat my big meal in the middle of the day.”
“I sound like my mother?” Dallas said, aware it sounded like an insult when Tilly slid her a disapproving frown.
Snorting, Tilly wiped her hands on her apron and then opened the refrigerator and brought out a stainless-steel bowl of freshly whipped cream. “Yes, your mother. She always insists I eat with her and your father. And one of these days you’re going to realize how much you two are alike. No wonder you’re always butting heads like two bighorn sheep. I’ve never encountered two more stubborn women.”
“That’s not true. Not about me, anyway.”
Tilly gave her an amused look.
“Just because I want to live my own life doesn’t make me stubborn.” Dallas stuck her finger in the bowl of whipped cream and got her hand slapped.
“There’s living your own life and then there’s rubbing it in everyone’s face.”
Dallas gasped. “I’ve never done that.”
“No?”
“Of course not.”
The older woman smiled.
“Tilly, come on, you’re making me feel awful.”
“If it’s not true, there’s nothing to feel awful about.” She put an arm around Dallas’s waist and hugged her. “I love you. You three kids are like my own. I don’t like to see any of you hurting.”
“I know, Tilly. I love you, too.” Dallas swallowed back the lump forming in her throat. She didn’t know what else to say. Tilly had always been fair and a straight talker. She wouldn’t purposely needle Dallas. The thought that she’d disappointed the woman made Dallas ill.
“All right.” She returned to the freshly brewed coffee and got out a silver carafe. “Get your fanny back into the dining room and take the dessert plates and the pie with you. I don’t trust you with the whipped cream. I’ll take that out myself, along with the coffee.”
Glad to be back on playful ground, Dallas sniffed. “You don’t trust me?”
“With my life? Yes. With whipped cream? No.” Tilly lightly smacked her on her backside. “Now get.”
“All right already,” she said and grabbed the stack of plates.
“Use a pot holder. The pie is still warm.”
Tilly’s caramel-apple pie was to die for. But warm? Dallas sighed in anticipation. “Did I tell you how much I love you?”
Tilly chuckled and winked. “My dear girl, I would bake you a pie anytime you wanted.”
“I know.” Dallas had to shut up before she got all teary-eyed. It wasn’t even that time of the month. Why the hell was she feeling so emotional all of a sudden?
She took a deep breath and then got out a tray, not trusting herself to carry both the pie and plates out to the dining room safely. After she’d carefully balanced her load, she picked up the tray and backed her way through the swinging door.
She used her hip to keep the door open until she made it to the dining room on the other side. Just as she let go, her foot caught on the edge of the door. She stumbled forward and watched in horror as the pie flew off the tray and splattered across the hardwood floor.
ADHERING TO HER WISHES, THE goodbyes were said inside. No more sympathetic looks, no more idiotic jokes, no annoying fanfare as they left the porch. Thank God.
Dallas slid into the backseat of the car Eric had hired, and he climbed in beside her. She’d huddled closer to the opposite door, but he put an arm around her and drew her against him, to which she responded with mixed feelings. Part of her wanted to be left alone to wallow in self-pity, but the other part needed his soothing touch, needed the reassurance that he still wanted her.
It wasn’t just about her clumsiness that had her fraying at the seams. Accidents happened. Of course, she wished she hadn’t totally ruined dessert, but hey… What bothered her more were the crazy thoughts running through her head. Ideas spawned by her mother and Tilly.
The car left her parents’ circular drive and sped off toward Manhattan. Traffic in and around the city was brutal at any given time, but Saturday night had to be the worst. Inbound was horrible. Nearly ten already, and people were just headed in. It felt as if she’d never get home.
Eric kissed her hair. “Hey, are you still sulking?”
“I’m not sulking.”
“Wrong word. Stewing.”
“Yes, I’m still stewing.”
He laughed, hugged her closer. “I knew you were anxious to leave, but that was a bit extreme.”
“Are you trying to make me feel better? It’s definitely not working.”
Sighing, he rested his head on top of hers. “I liked your family.”
“That scares me.”
“Come on, seriously.”
“I am serious.”
He straightened to look at her. “What problem could you possibly have with Dakota? It’s obvious she adores her older sister.”
Dallas leaned back and smiled. She knew that. “We get along great. Of course, we’re the most alike.”
“And Cody was a little dull at first, but h
e was great once he warmed up. He isn’t all that conservative when it comes to legal issues. He believes in something and he’s passionate about it. I admire that.”
“I have to admit I did enjoy him tonight. I just wish Clair had a little more personality. He needs someone to give him a jolt once in a while.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” He started to laugh and then pretended to clear his throat.
She looked at him. “What?”
“Nothing.”
She elbowed him in the ribs, and he grunted. “Don’t give me that. What were you thinking?”
“About your father. If I were ever hauled into court, I’d want someone like him hearing my case. He seems reasonable and fair. I like him. Part of the dying breed who still watches baseball. Does my heart good.”
“Uh-huh.” She gave him a “nice try” look.
“And then there’s Tilly. What’s not to like about her? She’s a doll.”
She loved that he’d included Tilly as part of the family. “You still haven’t told me why you were laughing. Although I have a good guess.”
“You first.”
“Chicken.”
“But I have my good qualities.”
She grinned. “It’s about my mother.”
“Sort of. I was thinking how she probably gives your dad all the attitude he needs.”
“And then some.”
“But I liked her,” he added quickly.
“Right.”
“I did. At first, I admit, she gave me the willies. No offense,” he said with a wry smile. “But then later she mellowed. The way she brushed off your dropping the pie and then joking about not needing the calories, well, I thought that was nice.”
“Yeah.” Dallas had been a little surprised at her laid-back reaction. Maybe she’d figured she’d beaten up on Dallas enough for one evening.
The unfair thought left Dallas uncomfortable. Her mother had given her a lot to think about. Dallas couldn’t blame her for that. Nor could she blame her mother for being right. Damn it. The idea chafed.
“Are you stewing again?”
“Now I’m sulking.”
“Not allowed.” He lifted her chin and brought her around to face him, then brushed her lips with his. “This is a no-sulking zone.”
“I could wait until we get home.”
He frowned, thinking a moment, and then shook his head. “Better get it out of your system. I have plans.”
“Oh? Such as?”
He slid a hand between her thighs.
She jumped. “Oh.”
“Need I demonstrate further?” He lowered his voice, prompting the driver to glance in the rearview mirror.
Dallas met his eyes and quickly dropped her gaze. She wagged a scolding finger at Eric, which he grabbed and sucked into his mouth. She got the giggles and couldn’t stop until she had to gulp for air.
“Damn.” Eric shot a sidelong glance at the driver. “He thinks we’re having much more fun than we are.”
That started Dallas giggling all over again. Not be cause that idea was particularly funny but because she needed the release. Needed to laugh or she might start crying.
Tilly’s gentle criticism had gotten to her the worst. Tilly had never lied to Dallas. Ever. Tilly had always been supportive, always fair and always available with a shoulder for Dallas to lean on or cry on. In fact, she was that way with everyone in the family. And she thought Dallas had rubbed her rebellion in her parents’ faces.
Had she? Certainly when she was younger, just out of college, she’d done her share of flaunting her independence. She’d ended up paying for her own graduate studies as a result. Anyway, she’d backed off since then. The construction job didn’t count. That had nothing to do with rebellion. It was good, honest work, and she needed the money.
Her conscience whispered otherwise, and she shifted positions as if the maneuver would ease her emotional discomfort.
Eric obviously misunderstood and pulled her closer. She smelled the cognac lingering on his breath, the musky masculine scent that was all his. “Okay if we go back to my place?” he whispered into her hair and then rubbed his clean-shaven chin there.
She hesitated, unsure what kind of company she’d make. And then he tilted her chin up and kissed her, and she knew she’d be a lot more miserable at home, fret ting over what she was missing.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ERIC HAD A PROBLEM. HE CLOSED HIS apartment door be hind him and watched Dallas sink into the couch and kick off her shoes. She was in a strange mood. Even before she’d splattered the pie on the hardwood dining room floor. The memory brought an involuntary grin to his face, which he promptly stifled.
The thing was, he needed to give Horn an answer on Monday, but Eric didn’t think now was the right time. Maybe later, after she’d relaxed. After they’d made love.
Maybe he could even talk her into spending the night. Then over breakfast he’d lay it all out. God, he couldn’t even recall the last time he’d let a woman spend the night.
He tossed his keys on the kitchen counter. “How about something to drink?”
She groaned. “I think I’ve probably had enough.”
“You only had two glasses, but I have orange juice, or I can make coffee.”
Dallas shook her head and smiled. “I’m good.”
“Yes, you are,” he said with a suggestive grin, moving in beside her and sliding an arm around her. “Very good, in fact.”
She didn’t hesitate to snuggle up to him and lay her cheek against his chest. “Tell me something.”
He picked up a lock of her honey-colored hair and let the silken strands fall between his fingers. “Any thing.”
“Tell me about your family.”
“Like what?”
“I know you have two brothers and you’re the middle one. But that’s all.”
The subject was bound to come up. He still didn’t like it. But he wouldn’t lie. Not that he would volunteer more than her curiosity demanded, either. “Well, I think I told you I grew up in Pittsburgh. All of my family is still there. My parents still live in the same house where I grew up.”
“Sounds like my family.”
“Nope, my family is nothing like yours.”
She flinched and moved away, and he knew she’d taken it wrong.
“My family is strictly blue-collar,” he quickly clarified. “Our dinner conversation tended to center around who the Steelers were going to cream that weekend.”
“That’s football, right?”
“See what I mean? That question alone would be considered sacrilege where I come from.”
She grinned. “What happens when the Steelers lose?”
“Two days of lamenting what a bum the quarterback is and how the coach has no business coaching in the pros. And then they start getting pumped for the next weekend’s game.”
“They? You didn’t participate?”
Smiling, he ran a hand down her thigh. “You caught me.”
She shifted closer again. “Then you went to college?”
“Only one in the family.”
“Go back to visit often?”
“Mostly just on holidays. I’ve got a bunch of nieces and nephews I like to see. And of course, my parents.”
“And your bothers?”
“Sometimes there’s tension. They think I’m uppity.”
“Are you?”
“What do you think?”
She stared down at his fly and gave her head a sorrowful shake. “You’re not uppity.”
He barked out a laugh.
“But I can take care of that,” she said, sliding her hand across his thigh.
That’s all it took, and he started getting pretty damn uppity. She undid his belt buckle, and he relaxed his head back against the cushions, his arms stretched out along the back of the couch, and he watched her.
She took her time, unzipping an inch, kissing him through the fabric, unzipping some more. She was making him crazy, just as he was su
re she intended. When he lifted his ass so she could pull down his waistband, she ignored him and pushed the front of his slacks aside. She found the opening in his boxers and freed his cock. He sprung up hard and ready.
She touched her tongue to the tip, and he shuddered. She glanced up, took another lick and smiled. “Did you say something?”
“Help.”
She laughed. “Don’t you worry. A little CPR should take care of the problem.” She lowered her head, but fool that he was, he stopped her, and she blinked up in surprise.
“Stay the night.”
A small frown drew her brows together. “I don’t know.”
“We’ll get up early, have breakfast and then you can do whatever.”
A slow smile curved her lips just as she ran her tongue around the head. “You stopped me for that?”
He groaned and closed his eyes. How could he think straight when she was doing that?
She took him into her mouth, and he forgot about anything besides her warm breath and talented tongue. She went from gentle swirls to assault mode and back again, keeping him off balance, taking him to the brink and then reeling him back in.
Until he couldn’t take it anymore. He tried to get up, intent on reciprocating, but she gave it all she had, and the explosion started before he had another coherent thought.
DALLAS AWOKE AROUND DAWN. Bits of dusky light seeped through the blinds. She tried to roll over to see the alarm clock, but Eric had curled around her, his chest pressed to her back, the stubble from his chin tickling her shoulder. Not even her moving around woke him. He snuggled closer, his semihard penis nudging her backside.
Smiling, she thought about waking him. She’d give him two minutes tops to get hard enough to get inside her. The boy certainly had stamina. Last night alone had proved that fact. They’d made love twice before they’d even gotten to bed and then once more sometime between one and three. She’d nodded off after that.
On the nightstand was her watch, and she slowly reached for it. She yawned and blinked at the blurry face until it cleared. Nine-thirty! It couldn’t be that late. She blinked a couple more times. Still nine-thirty. That gave her less than two hours to shower, dress and make it home before Nancy and Yvette got there.