by Lori Wilde
Besides, if he wanted to lose that fool bet, spending time alone with her could be a risk. Even now, the thought of making love to her was almost driving him crazy. He imagined bursting into her condo, bolting the door, and taking her where he found her—on the couch, on the table, on the rug, or even against a wall—thrusting into that hot, wet sweetness again and again until they both—
The wail of a siren behind him shattered his daydream. Glancing at the speedometer, he swore. He’d been going at least twenty miles over the speed limit.
Damn!
Ten minutes later he was on his way again with a costly ticket tucked in his wallet. He’d learned not to argue with Texas cops and this one had had him dead to rights.
Another thing he’d realized when that siren blasted him back to reality: fantasizing about Tracy wasn’t going to help. If he really wanted her back, he needed to stop thinking like a hormone-crazed sixteen-year-old.
Her reasons for leaving him had nothing to do with sex. That part of their marriage had been spectacular. But when it came to responsibility and emotional support, he’d fallen far short.
Tracy had wanted children, but she hadn’t seen him as father material. That hurt more than anything else she’d said, maybe because it was true. His own father had been away on business far more than he’d been home. And even when he was around, he’d spent more time with his horses and his gambling buddies than with his wife and son. Linc had grown up accepting his father’s absence as natural; it was what a man did to provide for his family. And his mother had found ways to fill her time—things like luncheons, bridge games, shopping, and beauty treatments. His parents had rarely quarreled. But they’d slept in different bedrooms. Both of them had passed away in their sixties, ending their separate lives under the same roof.
Had his parents’ marriage been the model for his own?
What a fool he’d been!
* * *
Tracy switched off her computer and closed her tired eyes. It was after eleven o’clock. She’d been reading briefs and researching legal precedents for hours. Her broken wrist was throbbing and her left hand was cramped from unaccustomed use. Time to call it a night.
Too wired to sleep, she found a beer in the fridge, popped the tab, and sank onto the couch. At this hour, with her basic cable package, there was nothing on TV but series reruns, pro wrestling, and infomercials. Settling for an old episode of Law and Order, she put her feet up and lay back against the cushions. Too bad her own job wasn’t as exciting as this show.
Tomorrow morning she’d be Skyping in to two depositions and a partner meeting. Then, in the afternoon, Linc would be taking her to the hospital to get the cast on her wrist. She’d done her best to keep it iced and even worn the sling as much as she could stand to, but the break was still hurting. At least the cast would stabilize and protect it.
A smile teased her lips as she remembered how Linc had cooked breakfast for her yesterday, after spending the night on her couch. She’d missed that—waking up with him and sharing the morning. She’d missed other things, too: the sound of his voice, his laugh, the delicious roughness of his beard against her skin when he hadn’t shaved.
And, heaven help her, she missed him in bed. She missed the warm tangle of their legs, the smell of his body, his masculine weight between her thighs as he moved inside her.
The beer had grown warm in her hand. She set the can on the coffee table, seized by a yearning so deep and poignant she moaned out loud. She wanted him. Not forever; there were too many unhealed wounds for that. But how could one night for old times’ sake, with no strings attached, be so wrong?
The idea scared her a little. But what did she have to lose except her pride? With her left hand shaking slightly, she laid her phone on the table and punched in the number he’d given her.
The phone rang once, then again.
What if he wasn’t alone? A man like Linc—all he’d have to do was smile at a woman and she’d follow him to his room. This was a bad idea.
She was about to hang up when he answered. “Hullo?” He sounded as if he’d been asleep. “Tracy, are you okay?”
“Yes . . . just checking in.” She was already losing her nerve. “Did I wake you?”
“Yeah. But that’s okay. How’s your wrist?”
“Better. I’ve been icing it. It should be all right for tomorrow. Are you still coming to take me to the hospital?”
She felt tongue-tied. Why couldn’t she just tell him what she wanted?
“How about I come early and take you to lunch first? Maybe something light. Then we can have a good dinner later on. I read about a great seafood place.”
“Sure.” At least he wanted to see her again. “What time for lunch?”
“Around twelve-thirty? That’ll give us time to eat and get you to the hospital.”
“Fine. I have to work tomorrow morning, but I’d planned to take the afternoon off.”
“Maybe you’re working too hard,” he said. “Are you sure you’re all right, Tracy? Is there something you need?”
I need you to come over here and make wild, crazy love to me. I need to fall asleep in your arms and wake up with your face next to mine on the pillow.
The words came to mind, but Tracy couldn’t bring herself to say them. She’d only end up embarrassing them both.
“No, I’m fine,” she lied. “Sorry I woke you up.”
“It’s all right,” he said. “Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes. Tomorrow.” She ended the call.
* * *
Linc replaced the phone on the nightstand. The glowing digits on the bedside clock read 11:24. Wide awake now, he lay back on the pillow, staring up at the dark ceiling of his hotel room.
Strange, that late-night call from Tracy. She’d never really told him what she wanted, but he’d sensed the strain in her voice. Was something wrong?
Maybe he ought to get up, drive across town to her condo, and make sure she was all right. But he knew where that would lead. Resisting Tracy would be like resisting the warm, wet force of a tropical hurricane. And if he ended up spending the night, it wouldn’t be on her sofa.
This was all his fault for making that idiot bet. He would give Chet a dozen bottles of Pappy Van Winkle just to have it over and done with. Too bad he didn’t have the little bastard’s phone number. He would call him right now to arrange a payoff in exchange for his silence.
As things stood, all he could do was control himself and hope for the best. He wanted Tracy back in his life, now and forever. He’d lost her once; he’d do anything to keep from losing her again.
Anything.
Chapter Five
Dressed in jeans and a black tank top, Tracy was waiting when Linc arrived to pick her up for lunch. When she opened the front door, his smile melted the last of the crumbling resistance inside her. Linc was a one-way ticket to heartbreak. But she was on the brink of falling for her ex all over again.
Not that it meant he felt anything for her. For all she knew, he was being kind because he felt guilty about her wrist. Or worse, he could be playing her for his own amusement. With Linc, she couldn’t be sure of anything.
“What sounds good for lunch?” he asked.
“We agreed on something light. There’s a good organic soup and salad place a few blocks from here. It faces a park with a pond. We can eat outside.”
“That sounds fine.” His eyes took her in as he helped her into the car. “You look pretty appetizing yourself.”
“Same charming old Linc.” She gave him a knowing smile. She was in a more sensible frame of mind today than she’d been last night. She’d given herself a good talking-to—a stern reminder to watch her own step—and guard her heart. But how long could she follow her own advice?
Adjusting the sling on her splinted arm, she settled into place. From the driver’s seat, he reached past the console to help her with her seat belt. She’d gone braless because she couldn’t work the fastenings one-handed.
The brush of his arm against her breasts was enough to harden her nipples. She stifled a moan of response. She’d always been sensitive to his touch. Some things never changed.
“Point the way.” He was clean-shaven today, dressed in a charcoal-gray polo and khakis. As always, he looked like a man in charge. He drove with the top down, the hot midday wind blowing Tracy’s hair back from her face. The air seemed to crackle with electricity. Was a storm on its way or was she feeling the aura of power and excitement that seemed to surround Linc wherever he went?
Part of her wanted this to happen—the sense of risk, the giddy highs and lows that went along with loving him. But could she handle the letdown of finding out he hadn’t changed? That was the question she needed to answer before it was too late.
* * *
The open-air café was one of Tracy’s favorites. The outdoor patio, with a view of a wooded park, was relaxing, the food always fresh and tasty. They chose a quiet table and ordered iced tea to drink while they studied the menu.
She took a moment to decide on minestrone soup and a garden salad. Linc scowled at the menu.
“What is it?” Tracy asked.
“Where’s the meat?”
“You said we should have something light. The menu is vegetarian.”
“Oh.” He shrugged. “Then I’ll just have what you’re having.”
Tracy gave their orders to the server. “It’ll be really good, I promise. And tonight we can try the seafood place you mentioned.”
“About that . . .” he said.
“What?” Her bubble began to deflate.
“Sorry, Tracy; I got the call just an hour ago. I need to fly back to Lexington for a couple of days. A property I have shares in is about to be sold. I’ll need to be there first thing tomorrow for the negotiations. My flight leaves at five today. I’ve already checked out of the hotel and put my bags in the car.”
“Of course.” Back when they were married, she’d lost track of the times she’d had to cancel plans because Linc had to be—or chose to be—somewhere else. She had no claim on him now, so she had no right to feel let down. But she did.
“Will you make it back in time for Brady’s wedding?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t miss it. My flight lands in Austin Friday afternoon, so I’ll also be here to take you to the rehearsal dinner. You can count on it.”
“I’ll cross my fingers—and arrange a ride if you’re not here. It never hurts to have a Plan B.”
His hand closed over hers. “You won’t need a Plan B, Tracy. I’ll be here. I promise.”
Their soups and salads arrived. Tracy had to eat slowly to keep from spilling, but they finished their meal in time for a walk around the park. The day was warm and sunny with a hint of a breeze. Children climbed on the playground equipment and threw bits of bread to the ducks in the pond. Couples and families picnicked on blankets under the trees.
“Sometimes when I look at families, I wonder how things would’ve turned out if we’d had a baby,” Linc said. “Do you think it would’ve made a difference?”
The question opened a raw wound. “Only if you’d stuck around to be a father,” Tracy said. “Otherwise, we’d just be passing the poor little thing back and forth between here and Lexington. Not a very happy thought, is it?”
He exhaled. “I really let you down, didn’t I?”
“Never mind. I was the one who ended it.” Closing the painful subject, Tracy glanced at her watch. “We’d better head out. We’ve got twenty minutes to get me to the hospital.”
* * *
Linc let Tracy out at the entrance to the orthopedic wing. She hurried into the building, leaving him to look for a parking space in the crowded lot. By the time he tracked her down inside, a technician was wrapping her gauze-padded forearm in what looked like long strips of soggy neon orange tape, looping it around the base of her thumb to keep it stable. Tracy spotted Linc in the doorway and grinned. “It’s fiberglass. The latest fashion. Comes in assorted colors. Dresses up any outfit. Every woman who sees it will want one.”
She was damned adorable, Linc thought. Brave, too. If luck and fate allowed him to get her back, Tracy—and their children—would be his number-one priority. Whatever it took, he would rearrange his schedule, and his life, to be with them.
But first he had to convince her that he could be the husband and father she wanted. Whatever happened next, he couldn’t let her down.
* * *
By the time Tracy’s cast was finished, it was getting late. Linc would have to hurry to get her home and make it to the airport.
“I could take a cab home,” she said as he helped her into the car. “It’s not that far.”
“No, sit tight. We’ll be fine.” He stomped on the gas pedal. The red convertible roared out of the parking lot and into the early rush-hour traffic.
Tracy checked her seat belt. Her right arm was in a sling, which she didn’t plan on wearing long. The fiberglass cast was light and strong. Once she got used to it, she should be able to manage fine. But right now, six weeks seemed like forever. The worst of it was not being able to drive her car.
Linc was weaving through traffic, making good time in spite of the crowded streets. Tracy would be counting the hours until he was back in Austin—if he came back. He’d made her a promise, but if something came up in Lexington, it would be no different from promises he’d made and broken in the past.
“Will you have time to check on that wounded veterans’ place for my horse?” she asked him.
“I’ll make time. If it looks right for Hero, I’ll bring you the paperwork to sign.”
“Thanks. I have a good feeling about it, but I need to be sure.”
“I know you do.” He reached across the console and squeezed the back of her hand. They were turning into the complex where she lived. Moments later they pulled up in front of her condo.
“I’ll let myself out. You’re in a rush.” She struggled to open the passenger door with her left hand.
“Not that much of a rush.” He came around, helped her out of the car, and walked her to the door of the town house. He used her key to unlock the door, then hesitated, as if waiting for her to go inside. She looked up, meeting his gaze.
Come back. Come back to me, Linc.
She knew better than to speak those words. She had no right to hold him to anything.
“I’ll see you on Friday,” he said, as if he’d read her thoughts. “That’s a promise.”
Gathering her into his arms, he kissed her, long, hard, and deep. It was a kiss that burned through her like summer lightning, a kiss poignant with need and bittersweet with remembered pain. A kiss made of promises and—perhaps—lies. Tracy felt it in every part of her body.
Their lips clung, lingered, then separated. “I’ll call you,” he said.
Then he was gone.
* * *
True to his word, Linc did call the next night. The phone rang just as Tracy was drifting off to sleep. She reached for it on the nightstand, almost knocking it to the floor with her clumsy left hand.
“’Lo,” she muttered.
“Did I wake you?” His deep voice was soothing, like a good shoulder rub. Tracy could feel the tension flowing out of her. She sank back against the pillows.
“Not really,” she said. “I’m glad you called. How did your business meeting go?”
“Fine. But my mind wasn’t on business. My thoughts kept wandering to a certain lady.”
“That doesn’t sound like you.”
He laughed. “I checked out the horse place this afternoon. Nice people. They have professional degrees and really seem to believe in what they’re doing. There’s a clean stable with a paddock, an outdoor track, and an indoor arena where the veterans work with the horses. I watched for a while. The horses are gently treated and they look well cared for.”
“So you think Hero would be all right there?”
“He’d get plenty of attention and he’d be doing valuable work. But t
he decision’s up to you.”
“Then it’s a yes, I guess.”
“Fine, I’ll tell them. And I’ll bring the paperwork when I come on Friday.” He paused, as if stifling a sleepy yawn. “How’s your wrist?”
“It doesn’t hurt too much and the cast is keeping it stable, but it’s going to be a long six weeks. The receptionist at work will be giving me a ride starting Monday.”
“Should you be going back so soon?”
“It’s a broken wrist, not open heart surgery, Linc. I’ll be fine. You sound sleepy.”
He laughed—a sound she’d always loved. “Maybe we both need some rest. I’ll see you on Friday. My flight gets in at four. I’ll call you when I’m on the ground. Sleep tight.”
“You too.” Tracy ended the call, pulled up the blanket, and closed her eyes. Loving Linc was like climbing onto a merry-go-round, wanting the magical whirl to go on forever, but knowing, somehow, that it would end. All she could do was hold her heart, enjoy the ride, and hope that maybe this time the ending would be different.
* * *
On Friday Tracy willed herself not to watch the clock, but as the afternoon wore on, she couldn’t help checking the time. Linc had told her his flight was landing at 4:00. When he hadn’t called by 4:30, she began to get anxious. She was imagining the worst when, at 4:55, the phone finally rang. Her heart skipped as she saw the caller ID. Was Linc back, or was he calling from Lexington to tell her he wasn’t coming? Braced for disappointment, she picked up the call.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“At the airport. Our landing was delayed. But I told you I’d be back in time for the rehearsal dinner. I hope you’re still planning to be my date.”
“Well, nobody else has asked me, so . . .” She laughed, giddy with relief. “What time should I expect you to pick me up?”
“The dinner starts at seven. That’ll just give me time to pick up my baggage and rental car, check in at the hotel, and change. What do you say I come by at about six-fifteen? That should get us there in plenty of time.”