The C.E.O. & the Cookie Queen
Page 12
Oh, she was going to miss her baby.
When she went back outside, Greg had a hand on Jenny’s shoulder and both were smiling. The sight gave her pause, because Jenny didn’t usually take to strangers that easily. She seemed to genuinely like Greg, which could be a problem when he no longer came to see them. Carole had to admit he was good with her daughter, though. Greg had shown an abundance of both patience and perseverance in the past week.
Had it been only a week and one day since he’d charged into their lives? She felt as though she’d known him much longer.
Megan and Ashley piled out of the van as Jenny ran over, each excited about the annual trip. The girls loved staying in the cabins, swimming in the small lake and riding horses. They learned new skills every summer, from campfire cooking to archery to water rescue.
Carole had often wished she could go with them, but moms weren’t invited. And children needed time away, she reminded herself, so they could grow independent and self-confident. No matter how hard it was on parents.
Carole wanted to provide a good example for her daughter. Sometimes the responsibility seemed overwhelming because she was a single parent. That’s one of the reasons she wouldn’t consider becoming Greg’s company spokesperson; she needed to be home for Jenny to savor every moment of her daughter’s childhood. Greg just didn’t understand how important that duty was to a single mother.
Within minutes the duffel and backpack were loaded in the back of the van, and then it was time for hugs. And no tears. Carole put on her brave “mom” face and told Jenny what a great time she’d have.
“I’ll miss you, Mommy,” accompanied by one of Jenny’s big hugs, nearly sent Carole over the edge.
“I’ll miss you, too,” she replied, holding on a second or two longer. “I’ll see you on Saturday, okay?”
Jenny nodded, then pulled away, smiling, and jumped into the van.
So much for lingering goodbyes. Every year they got a little shorter.
Carole waved, then crossed her arms over her chest and hugged herself. What was she going to do when Jenny went off to college in eight short years? She’d only be thirty-six years old—an age at which a lot of career women were just starting their families.
The van pulled out slowly onto the highway, then picked up speed as they headed north. Carole watched until it was out of sight, swallowed up by the bend in the road and the mesquite grove at the edge of her property.
“Well, that’s that,” she said, mostly to herself.
“You miss her already,” Greg commented, standing beside her, looking in the same direction as the departing van.
“Every year,” she said, sniffing just a little. “I miss her giggles and her silly music, her complaints about chores and her pleas to spend the night with friends. But she’ll be back before I know it, full of stories about the other campers and the counselors and all the animals she saw in the wilds.”
“I could keep you company,” Greg offered casually.
“Don’t you have a business to run?”
“I’m partially on vacation this week.”
“How can you go partially on vacation? Doesn’t that negate the effect of getting away from work, which is what vacation is all about?”
“Not when the working part of my vacation is you,” he replied, turning toward her, drawing her hands away and looping them around his neck, then lowering his head for a kiss.
GREG COULDN’T CONVINCE Carole to get out of her house. She insisted she wanted to be alone. He didn’t like the thought of her moping around, thinking of her absent daughter. Carole needed to “get a life” that didn’t involve family, cookies or motherhood, but he knew he couldn’t convince her of that fact. She was a grown woman. A gorgeous, intelligent, stubborn woman.
He drove to his rented house and unloaded his suitcase. Feeling a little hot and restless from his flight, he decided on a swim. And after swimming laps until he was pleasantly tired and lying in the sun for all of ten minutes, he realized he was still restless. Still hot.
The day was too quiet. There was no twelve-hundred-pound “baby” bawling in the pasture for extra food or attention. He didn’t expect any visitors; he didn’t have any unfinished stack of paperwork that needed his attention. Such idleness wasn’t in his nature; at least, not in the past twelve years or so.
“Damn.” Was this how Carole felt, rattling around her empty house? He’d never felt quite as alone before, knowing Carole was just a few miles away but oh, so untouchable.
At least for now.
He had to give her time if she was really emotionally distraught over Jennifer going to camp, although he couldn’t really understand her feelings. Even if she wasn’t upset, he had to respect her wishes to be alone, since he had no right to impose his opinions or values on her. Although he wanted her fiercely for personal reasons and needed her desperately for business purposes, they weren’t even friends. They didn’t know each other that well. If not for the strong attraction they both felt, he wouldn’t have returned to Ranger Springs. He’d be back in Chicago, looking at publicity photos of aspiring spokespersons. Coming up with Plan B that he could present to the board.
Instead, he was trying to understand a woman unlike any other he’d ever known. His own mother certainly hadn’t spent precious hours grieving about her children going away for a week or two. He’d always known that his parents used his and his siblings’ absences as an opportunity to get more of their own agenda accomplished. They might host a business meeting, take a short trip or attend cultural events with important customers or suppliers.
On several occasions during the first days he’d been in Ranger Springs, he’d noticed Carole looking wistfully at Jennifer, as though she was concerned over her daughter’s future. Or perhaps her opportunities. Maybe Carole was just a worrier, but he didn’t think so. Something about her daughter made her edgy, and he didn’t know what.
He also didn’t know her well enough to ask, but he probably would, very soon. After all, getting to know her better was the main reason he’d come back to Texas. If he could also get her to agree to be Huntington’s spokesperson, well, that would be an added bonus.
He stretched on the chaise lounge by the pool, thinking of going inside for a snack, when he heard gravel crunch on the driveway. He couldn’t see anything due to the privacy fence surrounding the pool, so he listened. Sure enough, there was a car…or maybe a pickup truck…stopping in front of his house.
Since he wasn’t expecting visitors, he could think of only one person who might be looking for him. With a smile he pushed himself up, grabbed a towel to sling around his neck and jogged toward the patio door.
CAROLE COUNTED TO FIVE before she rang the doorbell, telling her heart to return to a normal beat, asking her lungs to provide enough air so she didn’t look as though she’d run all the way from her house to his. But she obviously wasn’t very good at controlling her reactions, at least to Greg Rafferty, because she felt just as nervous now as when she’d decided to drive over.
He flung open the door, a big smile on his face, giving him a boyish charm. Then she looked lower and all thoughts of “boys” left her brain. He was wearing those practically nonexistent swim trunks again.
He looked really, really good in them.
“Hello, Carole. Come on in,” he said, holding open the storm door.
She tried to smile in return, but expected her efforts weren’t successful. He didn’t seem to mind her lack of response, continuing to smile at her. She eased by his damp body, smelling both cologne and chlorinated water as she came so close to all that bare skin.
“Can I get you something to drink? I’m not sure what I have in the—”
“No, that’s okay,” she said, walking briskly into the living room. She turned around, her mouth dry as she watched him close the door. Oh, Lord. His backside was perfect. Broad shoulders with just the right mix of muscle and bone, a long, furrowed spine that disappeared into the waist of his Speedo. An absolutely
fantastic butt, with just enough muscle and curve to make her want to hold on tight.
“Maybe some water,” she said, again breathless as he walked across the small entryway toward her.
“Okay. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back in a flash.”
She eased onto the couch, then changed her mind and sat in the overstuffed chair beside the fireplace. No, this wasn’t right, either. What was she, Goldilocks? She dragged the rocking chair closer to the couch and end table and sat down. Ah, much better. She could be comfortable here. Or as comfortable as possible given what she had to say.
She’d never done anything like this before. Edgy enough to pace the room, she made herself stay seated, but rocked until she thought she might rub grooves into the floor. What was taking him so long? Didn’t he realize she had something important to say?
“Here you go,” Greg said, returning from the kitchen with two glasses.
“Thank you.” Her gaze automatically went to his…swimwear as he stood beside her chair. He’d covered himself in running shorts and a soft-as-sin T-shirt. So much for stealing glances at what she’d been missing for ten years.
“I’m glad to see you, but rather surprised. I thought you wanted to be alone.”
“I did. I needed to think. You know how sometimes you just need time?”
“I think so,” he answered as he took a seat on the couch, placing his water next to hers on the end table.
“So, Jenny is off to camp, and now you’re back in town, and I wasn’t real sure what I wanted to do about that.”
“You mean other than ask me to leave you alone again?”
She frowned at him. “If I didn’t want to see you, I would have stayed home.”
“Good point. So, back to my original question. Why are you here?”
She started rocking. Then she realized how restless she must look, so she stopped. And sighed. “I…I’ve been thinking.”
“About our unfinished business?” he asked, leaning forward, his hands clasped between his widespread knees.
“Well…yes.”
“Personal business?” he asked, his voice low and husky. Sexy.
She nodded.
“And you made a decision?”
“I think so.”
“That’s not very decisive, Ms. Carole,” he said, rising from the couch.
As she watched him, her heart began to race and her palms grew damp. She wasn’t ready for this. She’d made a mistake. This was too much, too soon. But he didn’t seem to understand all that as he reached down, took her hands and lifted her from the rocking chair.
She felt surprised that her legs supported her.
“Did you come here to tell me you’ve decided that we should become lovers?”
“That sounds kind of…”
“Decisive?” he supplied, pulling her closer.
She closed her eyes as their bodies brushed together. “I told you I’m not good at this.”
“No, you told me you don’t do this. That doesn’t mean you’re not good at it.”
“If I’m this nervous just trying to talk to you, I can’t imagine that I’ll be able to do anything else, no matter what I convinced myself when I was alone at the house.”
His hands stroked her arms, then settled on her back, pulling her tighter. “We’re going to be fine. Just try to relax.”
“Relax!” She tried to chuckle. “I feel like one big, exposed nerve.”
“Yeah?” he said softly, smiling. “That’s good.”
“It is?” She didn’t think what she was feeling was good. Or even normal. “I don’t think so. I think this is what happens when a normal, healthy woman goes too long without…you know.”
“Sex?” he asked, smiling casually even as his eyes burned hot and intense.
She nodded. “Honestly, Greg, I don’t think this is going to work. Maybe I need more time.”
“Maybe you need to be kissed.”
“I just don’t—”
“Hush,” he whispered, pulling her tight against his body. Then his lips came down on hers. She shut her eyes, overwhelmed by sensation. Firm lips, a very insistent tongue, a warm, solid chest. And lower, the evidence of his desire, pressing hot and hard against her belly.
His lips molded to hers, slanting, commanding a response. She moaned, which seemed to inflame him, although he didn’t lose control. No, he just became more demanding of a response, so she complied, rubbing against him, meeting his tongue, thrust for thrust.
Oh, heavens. His mouth left hers and traced a path to her jaw, her neck. It had been too long. She felt…she wasn’t sure what she felt. She wanted to crawl inside his body. She wanted to rip off his T-shirt and run her hands all over his smooth, hot skin. She wanted to run her tongue all over him. She wished he were still wet from a swim, nearly naked in his Speedo.
She’d never wanted to lick a man dry before.
Her hands fisted in the worn cotton of his shirt, pulling it up, up from his shorts. Her fingers itched to touch him, but she held back. She didn’t know what he liked, what he expected. And her head was spinning, her heart pounding heavily in her chest.
“Touch me,” he whispered against her neck, his breath ragged and hot.
Had he read her mind? Or had she spoken aloud? She wasn’t sure. But he’d given her permission to do exactly what she wanted. How could she resist?
Her hands unclenched from his T-shirt, then slowly moved beneath the hem to touch his back. His skin was hot, smooth, stretched tight. She moved upward, to his shoulderblades, then sank her fingers into the strong muscles she discovered there.
He moaned.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, that was a good moan. Your hands feel wonderful on me. You feel good all over. I’m just wondering if you’re getting a little warm. Like maybe we’re overdressed?”
Getting naked. That’s what he was talking about. She’d thought about that aspect of having an affair, but couldn’t quite conjure up the image of removing her clothes in broad daylight in front of a man she’d known a week. No, she didn’t have that good an imagination.
“I’m fine the way I am right now,” she said, trying to keep her voice even, “but you go ahead if you’re too hot.”
Greg chuckled, then started laughing. Before she knew what he’d planned, he lifted her off her feet, their bodies even more perfectly aligned. My, he was tall. And strong. She resisted the urge to wrap her legs around his waist and hold on tight.
“If this is going to work, you’re going to have to relax.”
“I can’t relax,” she confessed, burying her face in his neck. “Everything you do or suggest makes me feel like I’m going to jump out of my skin.”
“That’s because I’m doing things to you.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, looking up as he carried her down the hallway toward the bedrooms.
“I mean, you need to get more involved. If you’re not busy, you’ll start thinking again.”
“So you want a brainless lover?”
“No, I want someone who’s involved with me. Who makes me feel as if she wants me as much as I want her.”
“I do want you,” she whispered against his neck.
He stopped, pressed her against the wall next to the bedroom door and kissed her until her head swam. Her arms tightened around his neck as her legs framed his arousal. She’d never been so sexually aware before. Every move, every breath, increased her excitement.
He broke the kiss and carried her into the bedroom. At least it was somewhat darker in here…just in case he looked at her naked. Which she still wasn’t sure she wanted him to do. Slipping unobserved between the sheets would be so much easier, but somehow she didn’t think Greg would allow her to be modest.
She’d bounced back to her prepregnancy weight pretty well after Jennifer had been born, but she had the stretch marks to prove she’d given birth to an eight-pound baby. Greg Rafferty probably wasn’t used to women with stretch marks. He didn’t seem like the
type who dated women with kids. And women in his dating circle who had given birth probably had their stretch marks removed with lasers or some other modern technology.
“Maybe we should talk about this first,” she hedged.
“I talk better lying down.”
“I doubt that. You never had any trouble talking before, sitting up.”
“Try me and see.” He carried her across the room to the queen-size bed.
She took a deep breath. “If I say stop, we stop.”
“Of course. I want you, but I’m not some animal who can’t restrain himself.”
No, she seemed to be the only one out of control. Right now, with the backs of her legs touching the mattress, she felt as though she might start shaking any moment. Especially when he slowly eased her down his body, still holding on tight. She doubted her legs would support her.
“If we have an affair,” she said, drawing in a deep breath, “it’s only for as long as you’re in town. I don’t want you to think I’ll try to contact you in Chicago or show up at your condo, making a scene.”
“Whatever you want. I have no problem with continuing a relationship even after I go back home.”
“I don’t think that would work because another requirement is that you don’t sleep with anyone else while you and I are involved.”
“No problem. And I would say I expect the same, but I know you wouldn’t do that anyway.”
So now she felt like a heel for implying he had no morals. Great start to the affair, Carole.
“Thank you, and I didn’t mean to imply you would do something like that. I just wanted you to understand some of the rules I’ve been thinking of.”
“I don’t believe we need many rules, Carole. This is about two people who want each other. I certainly don’t want to hurt you, Jennifer or your family. As long as we’re discreet, I don’t see the problem.”
The problem is that I might do something really stupid like fall in love with you if I’m not careful. “I think it’s good to talk.”
“Talking can be good, but I think we’ve said everything that needs to be said. I think we’re both ready for some action.”