Lassoing the Deputy

by Marie Ferrarella

  And even if he was, she knew that she forgave him. Forgave the man who was, because of the man he had once been. A man she had loved utterly and completely. That wasn’t something a person easily walked away from.

  Her eyes met his. “Take me to my place,” she whispered.

  Five very simple words. And yet, she couldn’t have been more seductive if she’d tried.

  He would have found a way somehow to step away if Alma had changed her mind. But he would have been lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he would have been twice as wounded by her unspoken rejection as he’d been at the outset.

  It was a moot point.

  Alma’s sultry invitation made it impossible for him to hold her at arm’s length any longer.

  “Your place,” he echoed.

  She took him by the hand, leading him to his car. It was the closer of the two.

  “I’ll give you directions as we go,” she promised.

  He had no doubt that she would.

  *

  CASH WAS NOT SURE HOW HE managed to drive the short distance from Tina’s home to Alma’s small one-story house. He really had no memory of it. One moment he was getting into his car, the next she was telling him to pull up in front of “that one.”

  The only thing he clearly remembered was Alma. Alma, sitting beside him, looking like sunshine, smelling like sin.

  He was vaguely aware of getting out of the car, acutely aware of the ache in his gut, the ache from wanting her.

  The second they were inside her home, the frenzy began, not to be denied any longer.

  He sealed his mouth to hers, and the impact of their coming together was so hard that Alma slammed her back against the door, closing it.

  She had the presence of mind—what there was left of it—to reach behind her and turn the bolt, locking the door. She wanted no one walking in on them, not by accident or design.

  She wanted him all to herself.

  The second the door was locked, the desire vibrating within her leaped up another five notches. Like a woman possessed, Alma began to pull at his clothes.

  Her movements became more frantic with each item she attacked and managed to remove. One of his buttons went flying across the room in protest.

  Before he could take note of it or say anything, she said, “I sew,” against his mouth.

  She tasted his brief chuckle before it faded away.

  Spurred on by her, his blood heating fast, he found that his hands couldn’t remain idle. He began to remove her clothes one piece at a time.

  Although the same urgency roared through his veins as did through hers, Cash was careful to rein himself in. Otherwise, all her clothes would have been scattered about the room, limp and in tatters.

  As it was, they were still scattered, but he didn’t have her unclothed as quickly as he would have wanted to. He was determined to exhibit some restraint.

  He wanted this to last awhile.

  And when she was finally naked, Cash dropped to his knees, anointing every inch of her with hot lips and kisses that drove her up and over to her first climax.

  They’d been inside the house for less than seven minutes.

  Rather than having her desire sated, Alma only felt it ratcheted up to a higher plateau.

  Alma dropped down to her own knees, resealing her mouth to his, kissing him back so hard that they both wound up on the floor, their bodies as utterly entwined as their mouths.

  Time temporarily ceased to exist. There was no before, no after. No past, no future. There was only now and it was encased in a bubble around the two of them.

  For her, their lovemaking had the feel of familiarity to it, and yet, it was all brand-new.

  Different, but the same.

  Unable to explore and understand, Alma simply gloried in what was, absorbing each sensation, each feeling as it burst over her. Loving the fact that she had this one more time with the only man she had ever loved.

  Perhaps another woman would have held out, would have used the hurt she’d sustained when he had so abruptly dropped out of her life and held it up as a shield. But another woman hadn’t loved so utterly, so completely as she had.

  As she did.

  She tried very hard not to have illusions that this was just the beginning of the rest of their lives together. Alma knew better.

  It was what it was: glorious.

  Beyond that, she would be a fool to have any further expectations.

  He’d missed her. Oh, God, how he had missed her. He hadn’t realized until this moment the true depth of just how much. Sleepwalking through his life for the past five months, suddenly it was as if he were whole again.

  Cash knew it wasn’t possible, and yet, there it was. She was the other half of him and he should have acknowledged that, realized that, so very long ago.

  Now, it was too late.

  He had nothing to offer her, nothing to make her stay. He was no longer the boy with dreams; he was the man with ashes where his soul had once been.

  And, if he were truly decent, he wouldn’t have given in to himself this way, wouldn’t have acted on his urges. No matter what it cost him, he should have walked away from her as quickly as possible, before any of this had gotten out of hand.

  But he wasn’t decent. It was as if the memory of his soul had begged him for just one more time, one more taste of heaven with her.

  A man could only be so strong and he was beyond able to turn away on his own.

  Cash ran his hands along the length of her.

  He did the same with his lips.

  For just a precious moment, he claimed Alma one more time as his very own, knowing full well that he had no right to.

  Moving into position over her, he saw himself reflected in her eyes and for just that tiny second, Cash felt redeemed. Felt like the person he had once been—whole and hopeful—before the world had come crashing down on him.

  Through his own fault.

  He shut the thought away. He wanted this moment with Alma. Needed this moment with Alma.

  Their fingers intertwined, Cash slowly entered her. The look in her eyes nearly drove him wild. He felt Alma raise her hips to seal the union. When she moved beneath him, the rhythm of the dance, their dance, began.

  And when it did, there was nothing else, just the two of them as they moved faster and faster, racing together to journey’s end.

  It arrived much too quickly, enfolding both of them in its embrace, holding them tightly in its grip. Just for a wondrous megasecond, they found themselves suspended in time and space.

  The fall came, as it always did, bringing them back to earth.

  Cash held on to her even more tightly than before, not wanting their precious time together to end. Not wanting his sanity to return, dragging reality and his ever-present remorse in its wake.

  Cash remained where he was, holding her in his arms, waiting for his breathing to return to normal. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, thinking how precious Alma was to him. How he’d been a blind fool to lose sight of that and go after things that only represented material gain.

  That sort of wealth was useless in the real scheme of things.

  “I’m sorry, Alma,” Cash whispered.

  His voice was barely audible, but she’d heard him, heard the words that rippled along her skin. For a second, something quickened within her, bracing her. Making her feel ill.

  She banked down the feeling.

  He wasn’t saying what she thought, she told herself. He wasn’t.

  “I’m not going to ask for what,” she told him softly. “I’m just going to tell you that it’s all right. Whatever you’re sorry for, it’s all right.”

  “No,” he told her, his voice quiet but firm nonetheless. “It’s not.”

  Shifting, Alma raised herself up on her elbow to look at him. She could tell by the expression on his face that he wasn’t about to talk about what was eating away at him so completely. Not yet. He wasn’t ready and she could understand that, even thou
gh it troubled her to see him suffering like this. Because, no matter what he pretended and how hard he worked at putting up a front, he was suffering.

  But there was one thing she could say to him, no matter what it turned out to be.

  “You’ve got to forgive yourself, Cash.”

  Didn’t she think he would if he could? But this wasn’t some minor infraction. This transgression had permanent consequences attached to it. And the mistake had been his.

  “This isn’t forgivable,” he told her.

  There they had a major difference of opinion. “Everything is forgivable,” she answered with conviction. “Besides, you’re not capable of doing something so awful that there’s no forgiving you.”

  The laugh was harsh and self-deprecating. “You don’t know me.”

  Is that what he thought? How could he? She knew him, her soul knew him.

  Alma touched his face. “You’re wrong. I do know you, know the person you were and still are,” she told him, lightly pointing to his chest with her index finger. “You might have gotten a little lost for a while, but underneath it all, you’re still the guy who would get up super early to help his grandfather out with chores before he went off to school.”

  Cash shook his head. He’d give anything to go back, to be that kid again and this time stay on course, follow his convictions, not the money. “He died a long time ago, Alma.”

  She put her finger to his lips. “Shh. I won’t have you talking badly about my best friend like that. About the guy who lit up my world then.”

  There was no point in wishing for it to happen. It wasn’t going to. He was this monster who had fought to set a murderer free and succeeded because of a technicality.

  Succeeded.

  The word had an incredibly hollow ring to it.

  “But—”

  She sighed and shook her head. “I guess there’s just one way to deal with you, Taylor. Just one proven way to keep you quiet.”

  He loved the smile in her eyes. Loved the way she looked at him with affection even though he knew he didn’t deserve it.

  “Alma—”

  She pushed him back down with the flat of her hand, agilely moving over him until she’d straddled his body. Alma leaned over him, the tips of her hair lightly brushing against his bare skin, causing him to react. To want her all over again.

  A wicked smile spread over her lips. She could feel him hardening.

  “Ah, it appears you might be ready for some more persuasive dialogue.”

  He wasn’t sure how she did it, but somehow, she managed to drain the sadness from him again. She’d bought him a little more time in which to feel human.

  Cash threaded his hands through her hair, bringing her closer to him. “You’d be hell on wheels in a courtroom, you know that?”

  Alma grinned then. He was the lawyer, not her. But that didn’t mean that she couldn’t carry on one hell of an argument if she wanted to.

  “We all do what we can,” she told him. Then her expression grew more solemn as she brought her mouth to within inches of his. “It’s a dirty job,” she told him just before she kissed him again, “but, hey, someone’s got to do it.”

  After that, he forgot to try to push her away, forgot to be noble for her sake.

  Forgot everything except how happy he felt when he made love with her.

  Chapter Eleven

  As far back as she could remember, Alma had always been a unique kind of light sleeper. If a noise was something she had come to expect and was used to, she could sleep right through it. If she fell asleep during a thunderstorm, then a particularly loud crack of thunder wouldn’t wake her and she’d sleep right through it.

  But any sort of noise that was out of place, any movement her subconscious couldn’t account for, and she would instantly be awake.

  So when she felt the bed shifting ever so slightly because of a weight change, felt the warmth of Cash’s body withdrawing from her, Alma opened her eyes because her senses had alerted her that something was different.

  And then she realized what.

  Cash was getting up. Leaving.

  She turned her head ever so slowly and saw that he was sitting up on the edge of the bed with his back to her. The set of his shoulders, even in a room that was predominantly dark except for the subtle rays of moonlight peeking in, told her that he was getting ready to go.

  For a second she debated pretending she was still asleep, allowing him his getaway. The next moment she thought it might be the wrong approach. Maybe Cash was constantly evading his problem—whatever it was—rather than facing it head-on. Ducking it rather than tackling it until it just dissipated.

  Silence, in this case, she decided, was not golden. “So, same time, same place, ten years from now?” she asked him.

  The sound of her voice startled Cash. He turned around to look at her, as if to confirm what he already knew. “You’re awake.”

  “Either that, or I’m exceedingly coherent when I talk in my sleep,” she quipped. Tucking the sheet around her breasts, Alma sat up. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you that it’s bad manners to just sneak off in the middle of the night after making wild, passionate love to a woman and reducing her to a puddle of mush?”

  He laughed at the imagery. If anyone had melted last night, it had been him. “You weren’t reduced to a puddle of mush.”

  “Well, it was close,” she allowed. “But that’s not the point. The point is you’re not supposed to leave in the dead of night like some thief, although,” she reconsidered, “I suppose in a way, you are.”

  Though there was a smile on her lips, she was deadly serious with her analogy. She didn’t have to tell him that he’d stolen her heart all over again. He knew.

  How could he not?

  Cash shook his head. It would take so little for him to give in and stay until morning. Stay and wake up to the scent, to the comforting and arousing feel of her. But he had to stop indulging himself. He had to think of her. He cared about her too much to pull her into his dark world.

  “Like a thief or not, it’s best for you if I do leave,” he assured her.

  Tossing her head, Alma scrambled up to her knees, a regal princess whose vestments repeatedly fell away unless she was vigilant. She fussed with the sheet one more time, then gave up. Modesty was not the issue here.

  The note of playfulness was missing from her voice as she told him, “In case you haven’t noticed, Counselor, I’m a big girl now and I’m the one who gets to decide what’s best for me. That’s really not up to you or to anyone else.”

  The moonlight was on her face. There was a flash in her eyes as she made her declaration. He’d forgotten how very feisty she could get when she felt she was being marginalized or ignored. There was something magnificent and spellbinding about the sight. The fact that she sat before him, nude, only underscored his reaction.

  “For the record, Alma, I noticed. I noticed,” he repeated with feeling. “But that still doesn’t change anything. What I said last night was—and is—true. I’m not any good for you.” He looked off into the darkness. “I’m not any good for anyone.”

  “I’m sorry, but you’re wrong,” she informed him. “You’re good for Miss Joan and for your grandfather. You talked her out of calling off the wedding and possibly ruining not just the rest of your grandfather’s life, but her own, as well.” She smiled at him. “Everyone knows they belong together.”

  Just like you and I belong together, you big, dumb idiot.

  “If you hadn’t talked to her the way you did,” she continued, “if you hadn’t gotten her to open up like that, your grandfather would be nursing a broken heart right now and who knows, Miss Joan might have gotten so embarrassed by practically leaving him at the altar that she might have decided to pack up after all these years and move on.”

  She looked at him pointedly. “You saved two lives from being ruined and who knows how many other lives were actually affected by what you did?” she posed. Alma leaned over, covering his
hand with her own. “A lot of people look to Miss Joan to help them with their relationships. They would have no one to turn to if she was gone. You did a lot of good yesterday.”

  The bond Alma was creating just by touching his hand felt very intimate. She made it difficult for him to think, to hold on to his resolve. And having her nude like this wasn’t exactly helping him, either. He was fighting a very real urge to make love with her again.

  “And apparently, your imagination knows no bounds,” he told her.

  Her eyes danced as they slid over his nude body. Her pulse went into double time. “You don’t know the half of it. But I am willing to put your assumption to the test,” she said mischievously.

  What was it about being around this woman that helped him forget his demons? He knew he was being selfish, but it was such a relief to put his burden down, even for a few moments.

  “What are you getting at?” he asked.

  She patted the mattress in front of her. “Come back to bed and I’ll show you.”

  “I guess it’s probably too late to make my covert escape,” Cash relented.

  The middle of the night seemed to be the loneliest time by far and if there was a way to temporarily stave off that dark, empty feeling, then he was all for it. At least for now.

  She let her sheet pool about her thighs as she threaded her arms around his neck. Shifting, she drew closer to him.

  He could feel himself wanting her all over again. Wanting her as if he hadn’t already been with her three times since he’d brought her home yesterday.

  Again he wondered just what kind of power she had over him, and why couldn’t he get himself under control? Why couldn’t he do what he knew was right instead of indulging himself this way?

  “This doesn’t change anything,” he told her with effort as he felt her press her lips to the side of his neck. The pit of his stomach instantly quickened the moment he felt her skin against his, even as other parts of his body were reacting accordingly.

  “I know,” she answered breathlessly, as enthralled as he was. “Don’t worry, we can take this one baby step at a time.”

  Somewhere in the middle of the night, she’d realized that Cash did want, as well as need, forever. He was just afraid to admit it to himself and especially afraid to admit it to anyone else. But she was going to help him with that, no matter how long it took. And if that involved baby steps, so be it.