by Sara Orwig
“There goes peace and quiet for today,” he said. “What are you trying to do to me, Emily?”
“What? I’m not doing anything except getting ready to fix breakfast and go to work on this house. What are you talking about?” she asked.
He walked closer and put his hands on his hips to look at her. She wore a blue cotton shirt tucked into cutoffs, ankle socks and tennis shoes. His gaze roamed over the V-neck of her blouse, down over her tiny waist and her long, long shapely legs. When his gaze slowly drifted up again, she shook her head.
“That’s ridiculous. You’ve seen me like this hundreds of times.”
“I’m used to being on the ranch with a bunch of cowhands.”
“I think you better work. This place needs a lot done, and you insisted on being here.”
“I’ll try to concentrate on painting. Right now, I have a pot of oatmeal waiting. There are blueberries, strawberries, orange juice. Let’s partake and then I’ll work at the opposite end of the house.”
She laughed. “You’re being ridiculous,” she said.
He couldn’t smile. By nightfall, she would have him tied in knots. “I hope I can get my hands on this Maverick for just a few minutes,” he said quietly. She heard him and smiled, shaking her head because she probably thought he was joking.
As they ate, Tom sipped coffee and looked around. “I sent a text to my friend and he’ll be out this morning to look at the house and give you an estimate on the cost of the alarm. I told him it’s a rush.”
“That’s fast, Tom.”
“I’m a very good customer. I send a lot of business their way by telling friends and other ranchers about them.”
“You’re taking charge again.”
“I’m just helping you get organized and telling you what I can do to help. I can do other things,” he said, unable to resist flirting with her. When she walked into the room, she brought cheer and sunshine that drove away his demons from the night. “We’re eating together and we’ll work together.”
“We’ll work together. With you here, I don’t know why I need an alarm. Now if you’re planning on leaving—” she said cheerfully before he interrupted.
“I’m not leaving you. I’ll take you with me if I need to. I’m here until they get Maverick. This place is going to take a whole lot to fix,” he said, looking around.
“It’s all I have,” she answered quietly, looking at the high ceiling in the kitchen. “It’s a tie to Mom and Uncle Woody and, really, a tie to when we first got married and after Ryan was born. Uncle Woody was always so happy to see Ryan.”
“I remember staying here with you after we married when your uncle went to Chicago to his Shriner convention.”
“I remember, too, and all we did was stay in bed. But we’re not going to reminisce about that.”
“Might be more fun than painting the house,” Tom said, and she smiled as she shook her head.
She stood and leaned forward over the table. “You’re so good at giving orders. Well, so am I. You clean the kitchen while I get out the paint and brushes.”
“Where did Uncle Woody keep his paintbrushes?”
“In the workshop at the back of the garage.”
“I think I’ll go with you to get them and then I’ll clean the kitchen.”
“Tom—”
“We’ve been over this. You don’t know how angry Maverick is. Besides, you’ll enjoy my company.”
“Too bad you don’t have more confidence.”
He walked around the table as they both carried their dishes to the sink.
“You win,” she said with a sigh. “Let’s both clean the kitchen and then we’ll both go get the paint and brushes.”
He worked fast, glancing at her. He had been teasing, but what he’d said to her was the truth. He had been dealing with guys who worked for him, cattle, horses, dusty fields and new calves. To work with her dressed in shorts and a cotton shirt was dazzling, and it was going to be difficult to keep his mind on anything else. Emily was good-looking, and it seemed to him she had gotten more so in the past year. He turned to watch her.
He thought about their kiss yesterday and just as quickly knew that was the way to disaster. He needed to think about getting the house safe. He needed to think about anything except kissing or making love to her. He turned again to look at her, taking his time because her back was still to him. She couldn’t reach a shelf to put a bowl away. He crossed the room, took the bowl from her and placed it on the shelf, turning to her.
“Thank you,” she said. Her words came out breathless and he knew he should walk away quickly.
He stopped at the door. “Ready to go get paint?”
“Sure. I think we better get to work,” she said, heading for the kitchen door. He crossed the room to follow her out. They were kidding and flirting—something that hadn’t happened in an incredibly long time, since before he moved out.
Did she want to make love? The thought made the temperature in the room rev up several notches. Did he want the emotional storm again? Looking at her legs and thinking about yesterday’s kiss, he realized he did. If he had a chance, he’d take it even if it meant hurting later when they said goodbye. And he knew they would say goodbye no matter what they did during this time while Maverick was on the loose. Their problems were unsolvable and permanent. They had lost their son, and Emily could not get pregnant again and would not adopt because she had wanted a child exactly like Ryan, with their blood in his or her veins. And she blamed him for Ryan’s death. Tom knew he had failed her, failed Ryan, and there was never a day that passed that he didn’t think about it.
None of that could stop this lusty desire to seduce her, though.
Tom held the door for her and they walked to the garage, which was dark and stuffy. Tom took one look at the ladder and shook his head. “No way.”
“Here we go again. Are you going to tell me I can’t use that ladder?”
“I sure as hell am.” He stepped on the bottom rung and put all his weight on it. It snapped in two and he dropped to the ground.
“Want to fall today? I’ll be glad to catch you. Go ahead and try.”
She shook her head. “Okay. You made your point—a new ladder.”
He looked around. “Em, you need new paint, new brushes and a new ladder. When was the last time you or your uncle used this stuff?”
“Probably when I was seventeen. I don’t remember.” She laughed again. “You win that one. Let’s go.”
He placed his hand on her waist and she stopped instantly, looking up at him. “This reminds me of when we dated. I remember being out here once with you.”
She blushed again. “I think we better go.”
“Want to know how to make work a little bit fun? Do you remember being here with me?”
“Yes, I remember every single second. You know full well what you can do to me,” she answered and this time she was breathless. They might both have regrets, but right now he thought she wanted to kiss as much as he did. Sliding his arm around her waist, he leaned down to kiss her.
The minute his mouth touched hers, he lost the casual, playful attitude he’d had. His tongue went deep as she stood on tiptoe, wound her arms around his neck and pressed against him. She kissed him in return, setting him on fire with longing. He might be sorry tomorrow, but right now, he wanted to kiss her for the rest of the day and the night.
He wound his fingers in her thick, soft hair and ran his other hand down over her enticing bottom. He could easily get his fingers inside her tiny shorts. She gasped and moaned with pleasure, thrusting her hips against him. He wanted her and he was hot, on fire, melting from her kisses and from touching her intimately.
She finally stepped out of his arms and gasped for breath. “We’re going to have regrets,” she said and turned, walking
away swiftly. “You close up,” she said over her shoulder and kept going.
He wanted to seduce her. Even knowing that it would cause a world of pain later and complicate his life, that he would have regrets because nothing was going to change between them, he wanted to make love to her all night long.
He’d known when he told her he was going to stay with her until they caught Maverick that he was walking straight into more heartache. He kicked one of the paint cans and it rolled across the floor and hit a wall. Why did she have to be so damned sexy? She’d always appealed to him, and that had never changed no matter what kind of heartaches they had between them.
And she wanted to make love. She was at war with herself and trying to maintain control, but he could tell what she wanted. When he touched and kissed her, her response was instant and intense.
He looked at the ladder; it was a piece of junk. He gathered it up along with the paint cans and took them out to the big trash barrel. He went back to close the garage door and fasten the lock. As he walked back to the house, he wondered if he could seduce her. He had a sleeping bag and she had a cot. He didn’t care if he had to stand on top of the car, he wanted her. “Stay away from her,” he said aloud. “Leave her alone. She’s trouble. Pure trouble,” he added.
He didn’t find her downstairs, but before he could go up to the second floor to look for her, she appeared at the top of the stairs. She wore a long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans and had her hair in a pigtail.
She came down fast and paused on the bottom step. “Now I should look much more ordinary and unappealing. Less...something.”
“Go ahead and say it—less sexy. You’ll never look unappealing to me and there will never be a time you are not tempting. But I know we have things to do, so I’ll try to avoid looking below your chin or at your cute butt when you walk away. I’ll warn you, no matter how you dress, my thoughts are wicked and sinful.”
“I believe that one,” she said, smiling, and he smiled in return.
“I’m glad we can still get along, Emily.”
“Time helps,” she said, and she sounded earnest. All the playfulness left her voice. He felt as if there was a very thin veneer of joy and fun and sex appeal, of what they used to have together, and in this rarefied atmosphere, they could enjoy each other’s company again. But beyond that, nothing had changed—their close, loving relationship had ended long ago.
Tom’s friend came from the alarm company and Tom joined her while they settled on the alarm system with the stipulation that it would be installed Monday...
At noon, they decided to take a break from their errands and went to the Royal Diner again for another burger.
“Yesterday when we left here, I didn’t think I would ever be here again to eat a burger with you. Here I am less than twenty-four hours later. I didn’t think that would be possible,” Emily said.
“Just goes to show, expect more and maybe you’ll get more.”
“Right.”
After a few minutes, he smiled at her. “I’m glad your photography is going well.”
“I like it and I’m getting customers from other towns. I may just move to Dallas if business continues to grow. I’ll keep Uncle Woody’s house—”
“Em, it’s your house now. You can stop calling it Uncle Woody’s,” Tom said, but his thoughts were on her moving to Dallas. When she said that, he felt another stab of loss. Instantly, he knew that was ridiculous because when their divorce went through, he and Emily would go their separate ways. He tried to avoid thinking about the future and pay attention to what she was saying to him.
“It’s difficult to remember that this is my house now. Frankly, it’s still Uncle Woody’s to me even though I own it.” She sipped her malt and after a few minutes asked, “Do you miss the military?”
Tom shook his head. “No. I’ve served and I’m glad to be on the ranch now. Life hasn’t turned out the way I expected it to, but I love the ranch. Frankly, Em, losing Jeremy took it out of me. That one hurt more than the others. Maybe it’s because of losing Ryan and because I’m older now, but I’ve had enough of death and my buddies getting hurt.”
“You were patriotic serving your country,” she said, placing her hand on his. Instantly, he inhaled. She blinked and started to jerk her hand away, but he covered it and held it between his.
“That’s nice. Don’t pull away,” he said softly.
“We’re both doing things that will make it worse. We’ll be hurt all over again because our future hasn’t changed and isn’t going to.”
He felt a pinch to his heart and released her hand. “You’re right,” he said. “If I pass the sheriff’s office and Nathan is there, I’ll see what I can find out. I’m sure nothing eventful has happened or we would have heard something.”
“We’ll have the meeting at the TCC Monday morning.”
“I hope this balmy spring weather holds, because we can keep the house aired out as we paint.” He nodded and they lapsed into silence as they finished their burgers and then left to get her painting supplies.
* * *
When they returned to the house, she propped the front door open. “Tom, the paint fumes will be awful. There’s an attic fan that will draw fresh air through and take out the fumes. I want to open the windows that are left and turn it on.”
“That’s fine with me. Another thing—I’ll do the ceilings. Let me do the high stuff and you stay off the ladder.”
“There’s no end to your orders. You’re no longer in the military, remember?”
“And you never were in it and you don’t take orders worth a damn,” he said, smiling and shaking his head.
“That definitely isn’t so. Here you are, staying with me. I didn’t think that one up. I’m not getting on the ladder. I didn’t make that decision. I’m getting an alarm because of you. I’ve moved upstairs because of you.”
“You won’t let me kiss you. I have to catch you by surprise and then you run me off,” he said, moving closer and looking into her big green eyes.
“Not so,” she said, smiling. “You kiss me every time you decide you want to and you know it,” she said, poking his hard stomach with her forefinger as if to emphasize what she was saying. “Mmm, that’s impressive,” she said, poking him again.
“Let’s see if you’ll let me kiss you just any old time,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and leaning over her. His mouth covered and opened hers, his tongue going deep as he leaned farther until she clung to him and kissed him in return and he forgot their silly conversation. Holding her tightly, he straightened up and his arm tightened around her waist while he slowly ran his hand down her back and over her bottom. Then his hand drifted up and he unbuttoned her blouse as he kissed her. He caressed her breast, pushing away her bra.
She finally caught his hand and held it. “Tom, wait. Don’t complicate our lives. You know where we’re headed—for more hurt,” she whispered, looking up at him. He gazed at her intently. He was aroused, hard and ready. He wanted her and he didn’t think she would argue. As he gazed at her, he thought about the rift between them and knew she really didn’t want his loving.
“You’re right. We’ve hurt each other enough,” he said softly. “I’ll get the windows open and start painting downstairs.”
Five
Tom stood on the new ladder, painting the front parlor ceiling, while Emily painted upstairs in one of the big bedrooms. He’d been at it for hours. At a certain point, he had changed to cutoffs and a sleeveless T-shirt because the air-conditioning was off since the house was open.
As Tom worked he thought about her living in the big house all alone. She might be thinking the same thing about him on the ranch, but he never felt alone there. He worked with guys all day and he could go find someone whenever he wanted to. And when they divorced he would be able to get a date when he wante
d. But at this point in his life, he couldn’t imagine wanting to go out with someone. The thought of Emily doing so was another deep hurt.
His estrangement from Emily had left Tom numb and hurting, and his life would have to change a lot before he would ever want to get involved with someone again. He was surprised how well he was getting along with Emily, because it really hurt to be together and he knew it hurt her. Their divorce had merely been tabled until later but definitely loomed in the near future.
He thought about the big, expensive mansion they had built on the ranch. He didn’t want to go back to it, yet it was a tie to Ryan—it was where they’d brought him home from the hospital. Where they’d rocked him to sleep and read to him, sung him songs.
What could Tom do with the house? He had no idea, and he didn’t intend to worry about it now.
He wiped his sweaty forehead and tried to concentrate on his brushstrokes and keep working steadily. When he finished this side of the room, he was taking a break and going to find Emily.
After another hour of work, Tom ordered pizzas for dinner. When they were done with their break they returned to painting.
It was after 11:00 p.m. when he went to find her again in the front parlor. She was on her knees, painting the baseboard, and his gaze roamed over her trim, very sexy ass. He inhaled deeply and knocked on the open door.
* * *
Emily looked up and sat back on her haunches as Tom entered. “You’re just in time. I’m getting tired of this and I think the paint fumes are getting to me even with the windows open and the fans blowing.”
“Let’s knock off for tonight, sit on the porch and have a cold drink, and just relax. It’s do-nothing time.” He crossed the room to her and took her brush. “I’ll clean the brushes.”
“And I’ll get the drinks,” she said, standing and looking at the painting she had done. Tom put the lid on her paint can and then picked up the other brushes.
“Let’s get out of here. We need fresh air and I want a cold beer.”
“I want a drink, too. See you on the porch.”