His answer was a muttered curse that burned her ears as much as his gaze burned every inch of exposed flesh. He closed the distance between them and claimed her lips in a deep, thorough kiss that told her he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
She expected him to sweep her up into his arms, but he didn’t. Instead, he left her standing there to walk to the front of the nursery, flip the lock and turn the Out to Lunch sign. A few strides and he was back, and he was kissing her.
His lips ate at hers, his hands slicking over her wet skin as if he couldn’t feel her thoroughly enough. His sudden frenzy fed her own and she clawed at his T-shirt, desperate to get underneath. Her fingertips met warm flesh and she groaned. She tugged at his waistband, pulling the button free and shoving the zipper down until she touched his hard, thick penis. His solid length pulsed in her hand and raw hunger rushed through her.
She dropped to her knees and took him into her mouth. She suckled and laved, relishing his sharp intake of breath. The sound filled her with a burst of confidence that made her want him all the more. She wanted to taste him and savor him, but he had other ideas.
“I need to be inside you.” He hauled her up into his arms and steered her around until he’d pinned her to the wall. He lifted her and plunged deep inside before she could draw her next breath. He was so strong and powerful as he filled her, surrounded her, consumed her. She breathed in his scent, soaked up his body heat, drank in the sound of his harsh panting, but it wasn’t enough.
She had to see him, and she opened her eyes to find him staring at her, into her, seeing her for who she really was and wanting her in spite of it. Because of it.
“I love you.” The words spilled past her lips before she had a chance to remind herself that the last thing she wanted to feel for Houston Jericho was love.
He went stock still, and she had the sinking feeling that she’d made a big, big mistake. But then he slid his arms around her and held her tight and she forgot everything except the next fierce thrust of his body. She shattered in his arms and he quickly followed, spilling himself deep inside.
Neither of them said anything for the next few frantic moments as he held her, and she clung to him and their hearts thundered. All too soon, however, he eased her to her feet and she opened her eyes to reality.
To…love?
Surely she hadn’t said something so totally ridiculous and inappropriate and… Oh, God, she’d said it.
Worse, she felt it.
The thought sent a swell of happiness, followed by a rush of dread, because she didn’t want to love him. He was wild and free and on the move, and she was settled right here. There was no point in loving him. It was useless and crazy.
That was it. She’d been so sexually frustrated after walking the straight and narrow for so long that when she finally happened into some really great sex, the excitement had blown several major brain cells. She didn’t love him. She couldn’t love him. She wouldn’t love him.
“I… You… We…” She shook her head. “I didn’t mean it,” she blurted as she bent to retrieve her clothes. “I mean, I meant it. I love the way you make me feel, but I don’t love you.” She tried for a laugh, but it came out sounding rusty and forced. “I don’t.” She said the words more for herself than him. “I really don’t.”
“But—”
“It was the heat of the moment, but now it’s not nearly so hot.”
“It feels pretty hot to me and that sounded pretty real.”
“It was just lust. People mistake lust for love all the time. Not that I’m making that mistake. I mean, I did just a few moments ago, but I’m not perpetuating it. I know the difference.”
“You do, huh?”
“And this isn’t even close.” Truthfully, it was too close. And he was too close. And it was getting increasingly harder to keep her distance. As it was, she had the insane urge to touch the pulse beat at the base of his neck just to see if his blood still rushed as fast as hers. “Lust,” she said again. “So don’t worry that I’ll make more of it. And don’t worry about forgetting the condom because I’m on the pill.”
The words seemed to send a jolt of reality through him as if he’d just remembered his desperation to be inside her and the all-important fact that he’d forgotten the damned condom. The look quickly faded into a frown. “Why are you on the pill? I would think that living like a nun wouldn’t call for birth control.”
“You never know.” Truthfully, it kept her regular, but she wouldn’t tell him that because it didn’t sound nearly as exciting and while she’d accepted that she was a bona fide good girl for the most part, she hadn’t admitted the truth to him. “I’ve been waiting to cut loose for so long and I wanted to be prepared. It’s a good thing I was because we both got a little crazy. I mean, you without the condom and me saying such a ludicrous thing.”
The strange thing was, he didn’t look any more convinced than she felt. Instead, he looked…angry. As if he didn’t want her to try to explain away the slip. As if he wanted…
She was definitely crazy. Why, he didn’t want her love any more than she wanted to give it to him. He’d said it many times.
“Settling down isn’t for me. I want to go places and do things and live. I don’t want to be tied to this hellhole of a town for the rest of my life like my old man. Now, that would be hell.”
Even so, he eyed her for a long moment and she couldn’t help the feeling that he wasn’t just searching for the truth, but he actually wanted to find it.
“Boy, it’s getting late,” she blurted, eager for something to fill the awkward silence. “Don’t you have to get ready for Miss Marshalyn’s party?”
His expression faded and he glanced at his watch. “I did promise my brother that I’d help set up tables for the party tonight.”
“You can’t be late for that. I mean, that’s what these past two weeks have all been about, right? Sticking around for the party?”
“Yeah,” he said, but his gaze said something altogether different. That there was more. That he felt more.
Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, it didn’t matter because it didn’t change the truth—he was leaving and she was staying right here. And she wasn’t going to put off the inevitable for one more night in his arms.
She’d managed to regain her perspective after they’d made love this time—namely that she shouldn’t love him, and she didn’t, and their relationship was only temporary—but she wasn’t so sure she could do it a second time. If she touched him again, loved him again, she feared she’d say the dreaded words all over again. More important, she feared she’d feel them deep in her bones, and act on them by asking him to stay.
She wouldn’t put herself on the line when she already knew his answer.
“You’d better get going. Be careful,” she told him once he’d fastened his jeans and reached into his pocket for his keys. “And take care of yourself.”
“How dangerous can setting up tables be?”
“I’m not talking about the tables. I’m talking about Vegas, and everything after.”
Before he could say a word, she stepped toward him and touched her mouth to his. She wrapped her arms around him as if she never meant to let go. She gave him everything in a fierce, blazing-hot kiss that intensified the longing deep inside her and made her want to hold him for the rest of her life.
But then she did what she knew she had to do. She pulled back and let him walk away.
And then she cried.
11
HOUSTON NURSED HIS BEER and forced his gaze away from the entrance to the Knights of Columbus Hall, where everyone in town had turned out to tell Miss Marshalyn goodbye and wish her well.
Almost everyone.
The party had started more than two hours ago and Sarah still hadn’t shown up. Not that he’d expected her to. She’d made their goodbye clear that afternoon after she’d said those three little words that he’d purposely avoided his entire life.
A declaration that didn’t
bother him nearly as much as it should have. No, what sat in his craw was her poor explanation and the fact that she’d felt the need to give one. She obviously didn’t want to feel anything for him.
Thankfully. He didn’t want her to feel anything. He didn’t want any ties. Nothing that might harness him to Cadillac when he fully intended to ride away come tomorrow morning.
Tomorrow. That’s what he needed to focus on. He had a championship ride waiting for him. A record-breaking moment. The chance to go down in the history books as not only a winner, but the winner. The only consecutive tentime champion in the history of the sport.
The prospect didn’t excite him nearly as much as it should have. Instead, he felt…disappointed.
And annoyed. Damned annoyed.
“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.” Austin Jericho’s voice drew him around.
Houston turned to see his older brother looking as bad as he felt. He didn’t seem to have shaved for a couple of days, and he looked tired. Worn. Worried.
“What’s up with you?”
“You don’t want to know,” Austin said. When Houston gave him a questioning glance, he just shook his head and wiped his face, as if trying to erase the lines. “I brought Debbie the Kindergarten Teacher tonight.”
Houston’s gaze went to the petite redhead standing near the punch bowl. She smiled, the picture of grace and perfection as she handed out punch cups. “She looks nice.”
“She is. That’s the problem. She’s too nice.” He shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. She’s nice, but it’s not the right kind of nice. She’s not the right woman.”
“So why did you bring her?” Austin gave him an as-if-you-don’t-know look. “Miss Marshalyn will see right through it. She always saw right through everything. Like the time you stole that bushel of peas to use in your shooter and she asked you about it.”
The reminder eased the lines around his older brother’s eyes and drew a smile. “She was this close to tearing a strip off me.”
“But you gave up the bushel before she found her switch. You were always coming clean with her. That’s why I have to admit, I’m a little surprised. You must want that land pretty bad.”
“I do, but not half as much as I want…” The words trailed off as a thought seemed to strike him.
“Debbie?” Houston arched an eyebrow.
“Maddie.”
“I thought her name was Debbie.”
“Her name is Debbie.” Austin pointed to the punch-bowl woman. “The woman I want is Maddie Hale.” He glanced around. “I’ve got to set the record straight.” Just as he turned, he pinned Houston with a glance. “You should do the same.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You should have brought Sarah tonight. You like her. You’ve always liked her.”
“I don’t like her.” Like was too mild a word for the feelings whirling inside him. He felt attracted to her, drawn to her, mesmerized by her.
“You like her, all right. You ought to tell her.”
“You ought to practice what you preach instead of prancing in here with a woman you have no interest in.”
“I might be interested.”
“And I might sprout wings and fly right out of here.”
“Okay, so I’m not interested. I’m stupid. That doesn’t mean you have to make the same mistake. Tell Sarah how you feel.”
“If I felt anything, it would only make things harder. I’ve got a bull with my name on it.”
“So tell her and take her with you.”
As if she would go. She had her business and her grandmother. She would never leave the old woman and risk upsetting her. She would stay right here and keep living her lie.
And you’ll head on out of town and keep living yours.
A lie? He wasn’t living a lie. He was living his dreams, doing what his father hadn’t had the courage to do.
Or maybe he was the courageous one for staying and facing his responsibilities, while you’re just running away.
Houston pushed aside the crazy thought. His old man had been many things, but courageous wasn’t one of them. He’d stayed in Cadillac, but he sure as shootin’ hadn’t faced his responsibilities. He’d run from them, straight into a bottle where he could mourn the loss of his dreams and blame anyone and everyone but himself. He’d been a coward.
“Tell her,” Austin pressed, drawing Houston’s attention away from his damning thoughts.
“We’re not kids anymore. I don’t need you telling me what to do.”
“Actually, you need a boot up your backside for being so damned stubborn.”
“Says who?”
“Says me.”
“As if you could do it.”
“I guess you forgot that time when I shoved your head under the bed and made you cry uncle because you drove the lawn mower over Miss Marshalyn’s prize-winning bluebonnets.”
“I thought they were weeds. Hell, they grow everywhere around here. How was I supposed to know they were some hoity-toity breed?” A grin tugged at his lips. “You really kicked my ass good back then.”
“You needed it.”
“And you always were the first to point it out. You’ve always been a good brother, Austin. You were the reason Dallas and I made it. You were there for us.”
“We’re family. You, me, Dallas and Miss Marshalyn.”
“That’s why you’re here with the kindergarten teacher, isn’t it? It’s not about the land. You didn’t want to let Miss Marshalyn down.”
He nodded. “But I suppose she’ll be even more let down when she realizes that there’s nothing to it.”
“If she realizes it.”
“She’ll realize it, all right, when I tell her the truth.” He pinned Houston with a stare. “You ought to do the same.”
“I have nothing to hide from Miss Marshalyn. I always speak the truth. It’s my downfall. But she doesn’t want to hear what I have to say. I don’t want her land.”
“I’m not talking about Miss Marshalyn. What about Sarah?”
“What about her?”
“You care about her.”
“What if I do? It doesn’t change anything.”
“Maybe it would. Maybe she’ll pick up and go with you.”
“She won’t do that, and I wouldn’t ask her to, any more than she would ask me to stay.” She wouldn’t. She didn’t want to face her feelings, much less take a chance and ask him to stay.
Because he wouldn’t. She knew it. He knew it. It was simply a fact of life.
Austin shook his head. “As stubborn as ever.”
Houston grinned and quickly changed the subject. “I learned from the best, bro.”
Austin shrugged. “I never knew being stubborn could be so damned lonely.” He clapped Houston on the back. “If I don’t see you before you take off, call me when you get to Vegas.” At Houston’s nod, he turned and walked off toward Miss Marshalyn.
You like her.
Austin had it all wrong. Houston didn’t like Sarah. He’d passed “like” a long time ago. What he felt was much stronger, more intense.
Frightening. Or it should have been. The fact that it didn’t bother him half as much as it should have was damned disturbing in itself. Because Houston didn’t want to feel anything for anybody.
No ties. No regrets. No reason to stay.
He took another sip of his beer and his heartbeat kicked up when the door opened. He watched as Imogene Asbury walked in with a woman who looked like an older version of herself. Probably her mother and the other half of the matchmaking team of Myrtle and Miss Marshalyn.
He remembered Sarah’s words about “leading the poor girl on,” which kept him from running for cover. He’d never considered avoiding someone the same thing as leading them on, but maybe Sarah was right.
Oddly enough, it wasn’t the maybe that urged him to his feet. It was the image of Sarah, her eyes alight with jealousy and something that looked suspiciously like hurt, that motiv
ated him to set his beer aside and make his way through the crowd. It wasn’t a matter of hurting Miss Marshalyn’s feelings. It was all about setting the record straight and reassuring everybody else in town, including one doubtful Sarah, that he had no designs on Imogene Asbury.
“Can I talk to you?” he asked when he reached her.
Her head snapped up from the plate of goodies she’d picked up. “It’s you. Why, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“I know. That’s what we need to talk about. About this date we’re supposed to have—”
“I can’t,” she interrupted. “I mean, I can. I’m single and everything and so a date is a possibility. But while I’m still single, I’m not really single. I’m in love and so a date really isn’t possible. I can’t do that to him.”
“You’re in love? But your mother said you were looking for someone.”
“She hates Melvin. He has big ears and he never says thank you and she has issues with that. But I love him and he loves me. I really hate to disappoint you.”
“Disappoint me? I mean, yeah, this disappoints me, all right.” He put on his best wounded expression and she smiled. “But I suppose I can get over it.”
“I do hope you find someone.”
Her words stuck in his head, along with Sarah’s image, and he headed back to the bar for another beer.
Three beers and he still felt as stone-cold sober as before. And every bit as miserable. How his father could have ever found any answers in a bottle was completely beyond Houston. Alcohol didn’t numb the pain. It magnified it.
“I saw you talking to Imogene.” Miss Marshalyn’s voice drew him around just as he waved away beer number four and reached for a glass of ice water. He turned to find her standing next to Spur Tucker.
“She’s already spoken for.”
“Melvin hasn’t even given her a ring.”
“She loves him, anyway, and that’s what counts.”
The Fantasy Factor Page 14