by Sara Orwig
She got there first and sat in one of the big wooden rocking chairs. She had brought beer for Tom and iced tea for herself. It was cool on the porch, and in minutes her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Tom came out and picked up a small table with their drinks to place it slightly in front of their chairs and then moved his rocking chair closer to hers.
“Now the view is better here,” he said when he sat down.
“Liar. You can’t enjoy the view in all this darkness. You just wanted to sit closer together,” she said, amused by him. “It’s nice out here.”
“Yes, it is, and it’s nicer closer together.”
“It’s wonderful you’ve been helping the Valentines. You’re a good guy and I still feel so foolish for believing that email. That was a huge mistake.”
“Forget that, Em. We worked it out, and Natalie invited us to a picnic in the park next Saturday, if you want. I told her I’d call her after I talk to you.”
“Saturday’s fine.”
“Can you skip painting long enough for a picnic?”
“Of course. I have your help with painting and I hadn’t planned on that. I’d like to meet them. Once again, I hope whoever Maverick is, word gets back that we’re all having a good time together.”
“The way word gets around Royal, I suspect it will. You’ll like Natalie. After her loss, she understands ours in a way some people really don’t. Jeremy was a great guy. We were close—he was almost like a brother to me. Sometimes the stuff you go through when your life is at stake creates a real bond.”
“I should have known you wouldn’t have a secret family.”
“As you said, the picture was convincing.”
They sat quietly in the dark while she sipped her raspberry tea and Tom drank his beer. She watched the shifting shadows on the lawn. “I still think you should go back to the ranch. I can get this done.”
“Nope. I’m staying, and you should let me do the high stuff in every room.”
“Oh, my. If you’re volunteering to paint the ceilings in this old house, I will take you up on that with joy. I figured I would hire a painter to do the ceilings, but if you’re sure, that fun task is yours. I’m thrilled because I can’t do them.”
“I’ll start on the ceilings and see how far I can get. When and if they catch Maverick, I’m gone. You know that.”
“Of course. I know you didn’t move in permanently.”
“Somehow I can’t imagine you here permanently.”
“I don’t know why—I lived here when we met. We were together in this house lots of times.”
“I was just noticing how dark it is out here. The branches of these big oaks almost touch the ground, and they give a lot of privacy. When I move out, I think you should have yard lights and motion detectors installed.”
“By the time you get through, I’ll have a chain-link fence with razor wire at the top and spotlights. You were in the Rangers too long and in scary, violent situations too much. This is Royal, Tom. All the precautions aren’t necessary. We’re safe here. And no one cares what we’re doing behind the branches of the oak tree.”
“You think?” he asked, setting down his bottle of beer. “Well, if we have privacy and no one cares what we do, I think I’m wasting a really good night by sitting over here alone.” He stood and she wondered what he was up to now.
He leaned over to pick her up and then sat down again with her on his lap. She gasped in surprise and started to protest, but she liked being in his arms again, so she closed her mouth and wrapped her arm around his neck instead. “It’s as dark as a cave out here tonight. I can’t see you,” she said quietly. “What brought this on?”
“Why not? We’ve got privacy to do what we want—you just said so. Why not forget our problems for ten minutes and enjoy each other’s company and a few kisses besides? Or more.”
She smiled as she ran her fingers through his hair. “You really have a one-track mind.”
“No, I’ve been alone for a long time,” he replied. “And now I’m with you. That’s the biggest part of it.”
His voice was low, the way it got when he was lusty. She was aware of being in his arms, on his lap. Even more, she was aware of his arousal. He flirted and teased the way he used to, so it was fun to be with him.
“You’re not only a good guy. You’re a very sexy guy.”
“Is that right? On a scale of one to ten, where do I rate?” he asked, nuzzling her neck.
“Somewhere around one hundred,” she said, her words coming out breathlessly and as if she barely thought about what she said. “But I’m not going to let you complicate my life tonight. I’ve spent the past year picking up the pieces and I’m on a shaky foundation—”
“This will get you on something solid.”
“You’re naughty, Tom,” she replied as he trailed kisses across her neck and ran his tongue around the curve of her ear.
“But, oh, so sexy. You just said so.” He kissed away her answer. His mouth covered hers, his arm tightening around her as he leaned her against his shoulder. She clung to him, kissing him in return. His kisses sizzled, making her want more loving from him.
He raised his head and yanked off his shirt, tossing it aside while she said, “For just a minute more, Tom. That’s all we—”
He leaned close to kiss her again and end her talk. And she didn’t care. She clung to him, thinking he was the most exciting man on earth and trying to avoid thinking about all the painful things that had come between them.
He caressed her breast and then slipped his hand beneath her shirt. His hand was warm, his palm rough and callused. He unfastened her bra easily and pushed it away. She moaned with pleasure as her breast filled his hand. His thumb circled the taut peak and she shifted her hips closer against him—as close as possible while she arched her back and gave him more access to caress her further. For the moment she was lost to the sensations he stirred up. His hands on her, his mouth on her—it seemed natural and right and made her want more. But the memories of past heartache were still strong. Suddenly she thought back to the last time they’d made love—he’d moved out immediately after.
“Tom, wait.” She paused to look at him as she placed her hand on his jaw and felt the short stubble beneath her fingers and palm. “You’re going to bring back all that we’re trying to get away from.”
“Live a little, darlin’. We should just let go and enjoy each other and the night. You can’t tell me you don’t like this.”
“You know I love everything you do,” she said, “but we’ve tried every way possible to work things out and haven’t even come close.” She wiggled away and slipped off his lap. “It’s time for me to go upstairs.”
He didn’t answer. She left her drink and turned to hurry inside. She wanted to be in his arms, ached to have him carry her to bed and make love to her all night long. But if he did, morning would come and with it painful choices. They would go back to the way they were and it would hurt more than ever. She couldn’t stay on that seesaw of hot sex and then estrangement. He couldn’t have it both ways. Besides, she knew the night he moved out to the guesthouse, he had meant it to be for good.
She rushed upstairs, fighting with herself silently every second because she really wanted to go right back to him. But it would be futile and lead to more hurt. She grabbed clothes and went to her shower, hoping he didn’t come upstairs until she was asleep.
Finally she was settled beneath the sheets on her cot. The house was still open, the windows flung wide, but Tom would take care of everything downstairs and lock up. She didn’t have to worry about any of it. What she had to worry about was Tom causing her to fall in love with him again.
She rolled over on her back and stared at the open windows. Her thoughts were on tonight and Tom. She couldn’t fall in love with him again. She wasn’t going through what the
y had before. She couldn’t get pregnant and give him another son. Or a daughter. It wasn’t going to happen. It had hurt to tell him over and over that she was not pregnant.
It was more than an hour later when she heard a board creak and then all was quiet. She closed her eyes and lay still, wondering if he would come see if she was asleep. She couldn’t deal with him again tonight. She was torn between wanting to pull him down on the cot with her and avoiding any physical contact. His lovemaking could take her out of the world, but then later, regret would consume her.
* * *
The next morning she showered and dressed, pulling on a sleeveless pale blue cotton dress to wear to church. She brushed her wavy hair that fell loosely around her face. Stepping into blue high heels, she picked up her envelope purse, took a deep breath and went downstairs to breakfast.
When she entered the kitchen, Tom came to his feet and her heart lurched as her gaze ran over his white shirt, red tie and navy suit. “You look handsome enough to have breakfast with,” she said. “Oh, my.”
“You look gorgeous, Em,” he said in a husky voice. “I fixed cheese grits with shrimp. Your orange juice is poured.”
“Thank you,” she said. She had already left her purse on a folding chair in the front room. She crossed the room to pour coffee. “Let me guess—you’re going to church with me because of Maverick.”
“That and because you’re the best-looking, sexiest woman in the county.”
She laughed and turned toward him. He took the coffee from her hand and set it on the counter, and her pulse raced. His arm circled her waist and she placed her hand lightly against his chest. “You’ll wrinkle me,” she said, trying to ignore the heat building inside her.
He dropped his hand, leaned forward and placed his mouth on hers without touching her anywhere else. She was as lost in his kiss as she would have been if he had embraced her. Desire rocked her, and she wrapped her arms around him, stepping close to hold him tightly while she kissed him in return and forgot about wrinkles and her dress.
He made a sound deep in his throat and his arms wrapped around her tightly, holding her against him. His kiss was demanding, making her want to kiss him back and shower kisses on him the rest of the day.
Instead, she stepped away and gulped for breath. “Do you do that just to see if you still can? If that’s why, I’ll tell you that yes, you can turn me to mush and set me on fire at the same time.” She stared at him a moment and then walked away quickly. “I’m going to church.”
“Come eat your breakfast. You have time and I’ll get out of here,” he said and left the room.
She closed her eyes momentarily, trying to get composed. Her lips tingled and she wanted to make love. She ate a few bites of the cheese grits, drank some orange juice and coffee and left it all until later to clean. She hurried upstairs and brushed her teeth. When she came back downstairs and grabbed her purse, Tom was nowhere around. She had already decided it would be a good day for her to walk.
She opened the door to leave, and as she crossed the porch, he stepped up to walk beside her. “I’ll drive you there.”
“I was going to walk.”
“Let’s take the car. You’ll be a few minutes early. When you walk, you may be as safe as money in the bank vault, but humor me. I don’t like you getting a message from Maverick and I can’t relax about it.”
“I understand,” she said, trying to be patient but thinking he was being overly protective.
“You win the prize for the correct answer.”
“I’m trying, too, Tom. I know your background makes you think the way you do and I know this will end. Maverick will be caught or stop sending messages and disappear. Before long we’ll go our separate ways,” she said, feeling a tightness in her chest when she said those last words.
“We’ll get the divorce as soon as this is over,” he said, sounding tense. “I’ve been thinking about that. We can work it out ourselves, turn it over to our attorneys.”
“I think we can work this out. I know you’ll be not only fair but generous, because that’s the way you are.”
“Thanks,” he said in a flat voice that indicated this was hard for him. He held open her car door, closing it after she was seated.
As he drove away from the house, he glanced at her. “I’ve thought about our divorce. We can get a dollar figure on what the ranch and livestock are worth and I can buy you out. We can add the vehicles and the plane to that estimate and I’ll pay you for those. You keep your car. We won’t count it.”
His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. She knew him well, and knew by his tone of voice that he was unhappy.
“We don’t have to decide yet,” she said.
“We might as well make the decisions and be ready. When the time comes, it’ll be easier and quicker and then we can say goodbye.” He drew a deep breath and she hurt inside.
When he parked at the church, he walked around the car to open the door for her.
“Thank you,” she said as she emerged into sunshine.
“Smile. We don’t know this troll’s identity, but I want Maverick to see that his damned email didn’t do anything except get us together.” She smiled and he took her arm. She thought they probably looked like a happy couple. She hoped the person hiding behind the name Maverick thought they were happily together again. Then she recalled how shocked she had been looking at the picture of Tom and the Valentines. Next Saturday she would meet them, and she was looking forward to it. She glanced up at Tom, sorry she had doubted him. He was a wonderful guy who had been a good dad and husband. That’s what hurt so badly.
After church he took her to eat at the Texas Cattleman’s Club, and afterward they drove back to her house to paint again. It was the first Sunday in March and it was a perfect spring day. She pulled on cutoffs and another T-shirt.
She found him downstairs in the front parlor, prying open a can of white paint. Plastic drop cloths covered the hardwood floor. The ladder stood to one side and he had papers spread with brushes and stir sticks laid out.
“Calm yourself, because you’ve seen me in shorts and less plenty of times,” she said when she joined him to get the can of paint he had opened for her.
He straightened, turning to look at her.
“Although I think I’m the one who might not be able to concentrate,” she amended, fanning herself as her gaze roamed over him. Tom was all muscle, in excellent physical shape and incredibly strong. She tried to avoid memories of making love and how exciting he could be. As her gaze drifted over him again, she looked up and met his hazel eyes.
“We could put off painting,” he said in a husky voice.
She shook her head even though she didn’t want to. “Did you open a can of paint for me?” Her voice was raspy and she couldn’t stop looking at his broad shoulders.
He stepped over the paint cans and approached her. She threw up both hands. “I’m going to work. Give me the paint. I have to get this house painted, and you’re here now and can help.”
“What room? I’ll carry it for you,” he said.
“The front bedroom,” she said, turning to go. He walked beside her. “We’ve already lost the morning and part of the afternoon. I want to get something done today.” She felt as if she was babbling. In the bedroom she waved her hand. “Thanks. I’ll start here and work my way around.”
He put the can on the floor, turned to her, stepped close and caught her chin lightly in his fingers. “You want to kiss and so do I.”
“I’m trying to be sensible and not complicate our lives more. Not to mention getting my house painted.”
“See which you like best,” he said and drew her close, leaning down to kiss her. She stood in his arms for about two seconds before she hugged him back, sliding her hand over his broad shoulders and down one arm over rock-hard biceps. Then
she wrapped her arms around his narrow waist. It always amazed her how narrow his waist was and how flat his stomach. She finally stopped him and stepped back, trying to catch her breath, pulling her T-shirt down.
“We could make love and get that out of our systems.”
She smiled at him. “Good try.”
He grinned and shrugged. “It’s definitely worth a try. I might bring that up again after you’ve painted for seven or eight hours and the sun goes down.”
“You can try me and see,” she said in a sultry voice, unable to resist flirting with him.
Something flickered in the depths of his eyes, and a faint smile raised the corner of his mouth. “Ah, I think I’m on the right track. I will try again. That’s a promise.” He stepped close and touched the corner of her mouth. “It’s good to see you smile and laugh. We used to have lots of smiles and laughs and it’s nice to share them again.”
“It’s temporary, Tom. Nothing has changed,” she stated, hurting because of all they had lost and still stood to lose.
His smile faded. “I know.”
“Now, it’s time for you to go to work, too, and make yourself useful. You insisted on this,” she said, picking up a brush.
He leaned close and placed his hand on her shoulders. She looked into his eyes and was aware his mouth was only inches away. She drew a deep breath, wanting to kiss him and knowing she should not.
“I can make myself not only useful, but indispensable,” he said as he ran his hands so lightly along her bare thighs, then sliding them to the insides of her legs.
She placed a paintbrush in his hand. “You go paint and stop with the seduction scene.”
“I thought I was doing pretty good.”
She leaned forward so her nose almost touched his. “You know you’re doing damn good, so you have to go or this house will never get painted,” she said.
“Suit yourself, darlin’. I’m ready, willing and able.”
“Ready, willing and able to pick up a brush and paint? Great. Go do it and I will, too. Goodbye, Tom.” She turned away and bent over to pick up the paint can and received a whistle of appreciation from him. She straightened up and spun around, but he was already going out the door. Smiling, she shook her head. It was all a lot of foolishness, but if she had taken him up on any of his offers they would be making love now, and that made her hot and tingly and wanting him back holding her close.