Did she want to add something else to the brave part? Did she want to say it was foolish for Ally to adopt on her own? Or was she just patronizing Jeremiah with her civil conversation?
Hell, if he could fix one more thing around this house before he left, this would be it—Aunt Jessica’s attitude. He didn’t know if he had any kind of shot at it, but why not give it the all-American try?
“It’s nice to see someone who’s willing to put a child first above everything else,” he added, only now thinking about his dad and how he had seen fit to put himself first and all the rest of them a distant last.
Everyone was watching Jeremiah by now, but he hardly cared. Ally was even looking at him with a sympathetic question in her eyes.
“To have someone in your life who loves you,” he said, “someone who makes sacrifices without asking for anything in return… If a child has that in even one parent, he’s lucky.”
He didn’t explain exactly what he suspected his mother had done to preserve the stability of the Barron household. Had she pretended she hadn’t known anything about her husband’s wandering libido, just to keep the peace in the family? Just to make her sons think that theirs was a stable and happy home?
Jessica was inspecting him as if she was weighing his reputation against what he’d just said. As if she was reconciling both in her mind.
Or maybe she was just thinking about Ally.
Either way, Jessica ended up keeping her tongue, just staring at the stuffed animals on the floor as Ally stood among them.
Several moments of silence beat past, ending only when Mrs. McCarter came over to pat Jeremiah on the back, as if she approved of him sticking his nose into Ally’s business when, maybe, he shouldn’t have. Then she used her cane to start walking.
“Let’s get you unpacked, Jess,” she said.
An invitation to scoot couldn’t have been any clearer, and Jessica gave Jeremiah a polite parting glance, following the older woman.
But Ally didn’t go anywhere. She stayed behind, hugging a stuffed elephant to her chest.
“Sorry if I overstepped,” Jeremiah said, just now realizing how much tension he’d introduced to the room. He hadn’t exactly meant to.
“No, I’m glad you said all that. I…I think I needed to hear it from someone other than Mrs. McCarter. Not that I don’t take her opinions to heart, but there are times when hearing it again makes me that much more confident in what I’m doing.”
Jeremiah hesitated, not wanting to start work on the garbage disposal just yet. But, second by second, he realized that maybe Ally wanted to be alone with the toys and stuffed animals…and even her thoughts.
He took a step toward the kitchen, but it was a tough step, because when he finished this one last task it would be time for him to leave.
He would have run out of reasons to be here.
Ally put a halt to his progress. “You said something about sacrifices, just like you knew someone—a parent—who’d made them for you, Jeremiah. Were you talking about your mom?”
Yup, she had read him like a dime-store novel. “Mom never said anything to me or Ty, but she had to know what my dad was doing behind her back with Aunt Laura. I don’t know how they could’ve hidden it from her. She wasn’t a woman who missed details.”
“So she stayed with your father, even if she was being cheated on, and it was for the sake of you and your brother.”
“I don’t know for sure, but in my heart, I feel like it went down that way.”
His heart. He’d just confessed to having one, and it clearly hadn’t escaped Ally, either. She was looking at him as if he would never be able to hoodwink her or cover up anything about himself again.
He couldn’t stop himself from adding, “I wouldn’t trade my mother for anyone, Ally, and your baby is going to feel the same way about you.”
When she smiled at him in gratitude, her gaze going misty, he felt beaten to a pulp.
Totally conquered.
A dull, painful throb overcame him. He longed to say everything he was feeling—every crazy, messed up, nonsensical sweet something that was confusing the hell out of him.
But, out of self-preservation and habit, he tried to cover himself instead. Tried hard.
Ally sighed, as if she hoped he would offer more to her. When he didn’t, she said, “I wish it was already dark out. I’d like nothing more than to take that telescope outside and just look at the stars and have a few minutes when I’m not stressing out about a broken appliance or getting the nursery in shape. I also don’t want to think about whether my child is going to be angry at me for denying him or her a father one day.”
“Maybe you just need to get out of the house, period,” he said impulsively.
He definitely had her full attention now.
Courage pumped through him. Hope.
“Maybe you need a ride,” he added. “Just a little time on the open road where you don’t have to worry about a thing.”
She clutched that stuffed elephant as if she was holding on to her perceptions of Jeremiah Barron, the silver-tongued devil.
Was she wondering what he intended to do on a ride, just like the one he’d taken her on back at the Howards’ ranch in that Jeep?
As he was about to tell her to forget about it, she put down the elephant.
“Actually, I’d love a break,” she said. “Let’s go.”
Then she made her way toward the patio doors, leaving Jeremiah tongue-tied and twisted.
Ally had no idea what she was doing, but she liked doing it.
With the pickup’s window open, the wind bathed her face, sending her hair flying free as they drove down an isolated stretch of country road, past green hills that rose and fell with the grace of waves.
She’d just wanted to get away, not only from Jess and her judgments about Jeremiah and the adoption, but from the stress of making sure everything around the house was perfect for the baby.
When they neared a sign that read Tarot Vineyards she pointed to it. “Turn here?”
If Jeremiah was surprised at her suggestion, he didn’t show it, and he took the graveled side road.
She’d been to this small winery before, when she’d bought the house, and it was as peaceful as it got, with an ivy-covered brick cottage, bird fountains and a pathway that led toward a copse of trees.
Sneaking a glance at Jeremiah, she tried not to tell herself that she’d suggested this detour because she wanted to be alone with him.
She watched how he drove with a casual grace, one arm draped on the windowsill, the air playing with his hair. Being with him reminded her of the day he’d made off with her in that Jeep on the Howards’ ranch.
It was just that, this time, Ally had come willingly.
After he parked the pickup in a tiny lot, he came around to open her door for her while putting on his hat. Then he offered a hand.
“I’ve got to get ahold of you before you slide over to the driver’s seat and take off with my ride,” he said.
He was remembering, too.
But this time, she accepted his hand.
At the skin-to-skin contact, she sizzled. A shocking jolt of yearning fired her up, too, and she hoped he couldn’t hear her blood roaring through her veins.
He folded his fingers over hers, enveloping her in warmth. The gesture was simple but so erotic that it turned her all the way into flame.
Dumb. This was the dumbest thing she could’ve possibly done, taking off by herself with Jeremiah.
But why not do it?
Why shouldn’t she take a harmless ride with him just one time before they went on with their lives?
He helped her alight from the truck and, when she hit the ground, she removed her grip from his faster than she meant to.
He paused, as if she’d slighted him, but then he shut the door, walking toward the little cottage. Next to it, stone fountains splashed among pine lawn furniture and benches.
“I drove by this place on one of my ride-around
s,” he said.
“While you were looking at property?”
“Believe it or not, Ally, I did actually get some work done while I’ve been here.”
Well, listen to him—reminding her that he had a life besides the one where he spent all his time chasing around women. Point taken.
He held open the cottage door for her, and they went inside. Wine bottles lined the shelves, and a young male college student sat at the bar, a postgrad physics book open in front of him.
They ordered two glasses of pinot noir, then took them out to the seating area.
When Jeremiah sat on a love seat, she took a spot next to him without really thinking about it…until she realized that there was maybe a foot of space between them.
She ignored it, even though the area seemed to shiver with voltage-charged anticipation.
“What did Mrs. McCarter say when you called to tell her where you’d gone?” Jeremiah asked, resting one booted ankle over his knee.
“Nothing much. She knows there’s some tension between me and Jess. But I said you and I were going to the market, not to a winery. I’ll just tell her that we had a change of plans when I show up with a new case of pinot—something she’ll highly appreciate.”
“So Mrs. McCarter likes her grapes?”
“Very much. I think that’s part of the reason why, when I asked her to come out to my place, she jumped at the chance. This region around San Luis Obispo exploded with wineries over the last couple of decades. Mrs. McCarter and Jess were even planning on renting a limo one day before the baby is born so they can hit the tastings, but they’ll have to do it soon since Cheryl’s due date is coming up fast.”
A moment passed. Thinking about Cheryl and the baby stressed her out, so she changed the subject.
“Thanks again for sticking up for me with Jess.” She’d guessed that Mrs. McCarter might’ve said something to him about the situation and he’d taken it upon himself to speak in Ally’s favor.
“You already thanked me.”
“I know, but it was…” She stopped herself short of saying, “sweet.”
Yet there was no pulling the wool over his eyes.
“It was sweet of me?” he asked, grinning.
She nodded, and he laughed.
“That’s something I don’t hear often. ‘Sweet.’”
Once again, awareness descended like a mist that breathed over Ally’s skin, and she realized that neither of them had even taken a sip of their wine yet.
She raised her glass, tasting the full body of the pinot noir—the hint of cranberry, pepper, earthiness.
He did the same but didn’t drink any more than that. “I thought I should return the kindnesses you’ve shown me, Ally. That’s all I was doing.”
“Kindnesses?” Really? “Jeremiah, I’ve done nothing but try to kick you out of sight since you’ve gotten here.”
“Have you? I didn’t notice.”
When he laughed again, it was low and deep, and it didn’t take any more wine for a sliding trickle of weakness to travel down the length of Ally.
“Seriously though,” he said, “you’ve shown me a thing or two while I’ve been here. It’s been good for me to see that even though a person can get into a situation that makes them feel alone, a person doesn’t necessarily have to be alone.”
“What do you mean by that?”
He glanced at her as if she should already know. “Don’t tell me you haven’t felt like you’ve pretty much been on your own with this whole adoption thing, especially with the way Jess feels about it. She’s the only true blood family you have left, right? You might’ve hoped that her support would be easier to get.”
“Yes.”
“That can’t feel good. But watching you rise above it all has just shown me… Well, that I can rise above it, too.”
“With your family?”
He still didn’t drink, just sat there, hardly joking around or laughing now.
Was this the real Jeremiah?
Or was this the man with the silver tongue, manipulating Ally with emotion just to get what he wanted in the end?
He knew how to operate around women, and he could’ve used heart-to-heart scenarios like this a hundred times before, but Ally wouldn’t believe it. She had seen that naked flicker in his gaze—the split in his armor—too many times to think it wasn’t genuine.
True belief wrapped around her. She would bet her reputation on the fact that he was being real.
“I guess,” he finally said, “that being around you has made me think that I can have the strength to put my own family together.”
She rested her hand over his.
He wound his fingers through hers, but she knew deep inside that it wasn’t because he wanted to seduce her—it was because he needed to hold to someone or something else just as much as everyone did.
And that was when Ally knew she was losing her heart to Jeremiah Barron.
Chapter Eight
Jeremiah wasn’t used to sitting around while just holding a woman’s hand. This sort of quiet gesture wasn’t even in his repertoire unless he was leading a lady to a shadowed place where they could be alone together: a nook, a balcony, a bedroom.
But as Ally kept contact with him—innocently, without expectation—he found that he was actually partial to hand-holding.
This was what it was like to really be with a woman when you weren’t planning on getting something from her. This was what Tyler had found with his new wife, Zoe—a sense of rightness, as if there wasn’t anyone but her in your world. It even made Jeremiah think that maybe Ally was the one person who wouldn’t believe he was weak for feeling the way he did around his family…or her.
Most importantly, it was also as if she wouldn’t even have to say another word for him to have faith that there might be hope for him in the days ahead.
Something about Ally—her own strength and determination in life—showed him that hope wasn’t a false notion and, around her, he didn’t mind entertaining it.
But then he started to wonder… Was she just as moved by such a simple gesture?
When she glanced down at their joined hands, he thought that maybe she was, because she inhaled deeply before letting go of him.
He flexed his hand, wanting to have the last few seconds back. But she’d obviously broken a rule within herself and was backing off. Maybe she was even afraid of what would happen now, since she’d indicated that she wasn’t as closed off to him as she’d tried to make him think during these past couple of days.
That got to Jeremiah. Whether he would cop to it or not, he’d been trying to show her that he wasn’t what everyone thought he was.
He’d been letting his true self slip out hint by hint, just to see if she would give him a sign that she might accept him.
Had he just gotten that sign with the way she’d touched him?
As she put her wineglass on the low wood table in front of them, he did the same.
Damn it, he truly did miss the feel of her hand in his. But maybe she’d really only been comforting him, like the softhearted philanthropist she was.
Yet, when he noticed the raging blush on her cheeks, he knew it couldn’t have been as uncomplicated as that. There had to be more, and the protective streak in Jeremiah reared up again, as if he wanted to defend her against even himself. It disgusted him that he’d set out to play what amounted to seductive poker with her in the first place.
What would everyone say if they could see him now? Jeremiah Barron, slayed by the purest of touches?
She motioned toward his full glass of wine. “You done?”
“Yup. I like it. But I only needed a taste to know that.”
Did she sense an innuendo there—something to do with how she’d only needed to hold his hand for him to know that he wanted much more?
He hadn’t meant it that way.
But then she did something that made him think that he didn’t know what was running through her mind at all.
She stood and pointed toward a path that wound into a gathering of trees.
“There’s this great part of the winery that no one really sees. Let’s explore for a bit, then we’ll go into the cottage and grab some stock before we go.”
They took the path, and it wasn’t long until they came upon a patch of trees where flowers had been planted near the roots. Some of the mini-gardens had dolls, framed pictures of crayon drawings presenting the sky or cities like Paris. Nearby, just off the path, a cute little shack stood, its doors open so that a splash of more flowers peeked out.
“The first time I came to this winery,” she said, standing near a thrust of pink flowers accompanied by several pictures of race cars, “they told me that the Tarot family started this tradition. They wanted to plant the seeds for their futures. Their friends started doing it, too, and soon more people decided to join in.” She smiled. “After the baby’s birth, I’m getting a space here, as well.”
She was absolutely beaming, and Jeremiah felt the same bloom of light inside of him. But the glow was deceptive, because he couldn’t imagine his own family ever taking part in something like this.
Then again, what had he just told Ally?
Being around you has made me think that I can have the strength to put my own family together.
He hadn’t just been talking about reconciling with his father, either. Jeremiah had actually been thinking of his future, and if it could possibly have his very own family in it.
The thought hadn’t even scared him. In fact, Jeremiah had felt a sense of purpose for the very first time in his life, as if he might just have a reason to leave work each weekday night. As if there would finally be something…someone…to come home to.
Ally caught the look on his face, and he couldn’t guess what she might’ve seen there. The same kind of yearning he’d noticed in her when she’d been watching those kids at the Howards’ ranch?
“Here I am prattling on about baby stuff again,” she said.
“No, I like hearing your plans.” He stuffed the tips of his fingers into his jeans pockets, not knowing what else to do with himself.
“You don’t mind how I go on and on about it?” she asked.
Taming the Texas Playboy Page 10