He nodded, then picked up his sandwich and took a huge bite. Andi had built this house with the future in mind. She had planned it and decorated it for a husband and the children they would one day bring into the world. Who would that husband be? Joe wondered. What lucky man would share Andi's life and give her the children she wanted?
There would be no way he could stay in New Mexico and watch her marry another man, see her happy without him. But now that she had been his—truly his—how could he ever leave her? Passion alone was not a good basis for a lasting marriage, and he and Andi both deserved a lifetime commitment. Would it be possible for them to work through all their differences? Could they find a common ground on which to build a future? And was that what he truly wanted—to spend the rest of his life back on the reservation with Andi?
As long as Russ hates you, Andi and you can never have a permanent relationship, an inner voice reminded him. Joe would never ask her to choose between her brother and him. Perhaps he'd done just that—asked her to choose—when he had expected her to stand by him and understand why he had arrested her father. Had he been asking her to choose between Russell and him?
You shouldn't have run away. You should have stayed and given her time to accept Russell's suicide and the part you played in his death. If you had stayed, she might have forgiven you years ago.
"You're awfully quiet," Andi said as she reached for a chocolate mint cookie.
"Just busy eating." And as if to demonstrate, he finished off his sandwich and downed the last drops of coffee.
"I can carry the tray back to the kitchen, if you'd like to take a shower. There's a huge walk-in shower in the other bathroom."
"Thanks. A shower is just what I need."
Andi rose from the settee. "I'll get you some towels and a washcloth." She went into the bathroom and returned with the items—big, fluffy yellow towels and matching washcloth. "There's a one-size robe hanging on the hook behind the door in the bathroom. I bought it for guests. . .female guests, so it may be a bit small for you."
"I'll make do." He glanced down at his grungy shirt and jeans. "I'll need to wash these tonight. Otherwise, I'll have to go home and get a change of clothes."
"No problem. Just toss your things out into the hall, and I'll put them on to wash while I clean up the dishes."
"Which bedroom do you want me to take?" he asked. "I noticed two closed doors up here and assumed they were bedrooms."
"Oh, yes. Use the room to the right of the bathroom. The other room doesn't have any furniture in it."
Joe stood, took the towels from her and shuffled his feet as he waited, not exactly sure for what. "Well, I'd better get that shower and then turn in. I want to go back to the hospital first thing in the morning."
"Right." Andi smiled at him, an anticipatory look in her eyes, as if she, too, were waiting.
"I'll toss my dirty clothes out into the hall."
"Yes. Fine. I'll put them in the washer."
Joe started backing out of the room, his steps awkward. As he neared the door, his heels clumsily encountered a round pot that held a tall cactus. He grinned at Andi, then, sidestepping the pot, backed into the hall.
"See you in the morning," he said.
"Good night."
He lumbered down the hall and into the bathroom, all the while calling himself an idiot. Why hadn't he just told Andi that he wanted to spend the night in her bed? The worst that could happen was she'd kick him out.
After placing his phone on the windowsill, he quickly divested himself of his clothing, from shirt and jeans to socks and briefs. He tossed the items out into the hallway, closed the door, and then stepped into the large shower. He eased the bandage from his side and took a good look at the healing wound. He threw the slightly soiled bandage across the room and into the wastepaper basket near the sink. He shut the glass door, turned on the water and shivered when the cold mist hit his naked body. Maybe that's just what he needed—a cold shower.
Andi latched the door on the dishwasher, then went into the laundry room and dumped Joe's clothes into the washing machine. He was upstairs right now in her guest bathroom. Big, beautiful and naked. The thought of what Joe's body must look like totally unclothed sent shivers of desire along her nerve endings. She could be in the shower with him right this minute, scrubbing his back or lathering his. . . Heat rose inside her, flushing her face and warming her skin.
When he'd asked her which bedroom to use, why hadn't she said "mine"? That's where she wanted him, wasn't it? In her bed, in her arms, all night long. She had only tasted a sample of the delicious pleasure of being Joe's lover. She wanted more. A banquet. Hours of love-making, when she could thoroughly explore his body and give him the chance to explore hers.
If Joe wanted her, why hadn't he told her that he did? Surely he knew that one word from him and she would be his. Was he afraid that she would pressure him, try to wrangle a commitment out of him? Was that why he hadn't instigated something intimate between them tonight? Maybe Joe didn't want to consider the possibility of a future with her.
Andi opened the back door and walked out onto her patio. The cool night air chilled her. She looked up at the large full moon, the same yellow-white moon that had shone down on Joe and her in the wee hours of the morning when they had made love in her SUV. Like a magical orb of light, it shimmered up there in the heavens. Romantic. Hypnotizing. Bewitching.
Wrapping her arms across her chest, she breathed in the sweet, dry air. Desert air. The scent of a summer night wafted on the breeze. She closed her eyes and imagined Joe there with her. Behind her, enclosing her within his embrace. Kissing her cheek, her neck, her breast. Whispering earthy, seductive words into her ear.
Joe dried off hurriedly, ran his fingers through his hair and grabbed the robe off the door hook. When he slipped on the blue robe, he saw immediately that it was a tight fit across his shoulders and hit him above the knees. But what did it matter? No one would see him in the feminine garment. After picking up his boots and cell phone, he opened the bathroom door and scanned the hall, then dashed toward the guest bedroom. He flipped the light switch, and two short, squat bedside lamps came on, illuminating the room with a soft creamy glow. He took inventory hurriedly. The room was smaller than Andi's, but had been decorated in a similar Southwestern style. A pine daybed spanned a nook on the left wall and was flanked by two pine nightstands topped with bookshelves that contained books and an assortment of small Native American craft items.
The daybed looked awfully small, but he supposed once he removed the plethora of pillows, he might find a bed large enough to accommodate a man of his size. He dumped his boots in the corner, laid his phone on the nightstand to his right and immediately set to work clearing the bed. When he stripped back the spread, he found cool tan sheets awaiting him.
After discarding the robe, he lay on the bed and covered himself up to his waist. He crossed his arms under his head and stared up at the ceiling. Hell, he'd forgotten to turn off the lamps. He reached the one above his head quite easily, but had to sit up and scoot to the end of the bed to turn off the other one. Returning to his former position, he tried to relax. Moonlight streamed through the windows. He hadn't pulled down the shades. And he wasn't going to. His eyes would adjust to the light. It shouldn't be that difficult. He was tired and sleepy and. . . Hell, what he was was horny. Maybe he should have taken that cold shower.
Try not to think about Andi, he told himself. That might help. And whatever you do, don't think about what happened between the two of you this morning. Yeah, sure. Easier said than done. The minute he closed his eyes, an image of Andi flashed through his mind. A naked Andi, straddling his hips, riding him, crying out his name.
At first he thought he had imagined the sound of the door opening and of footsteps padding across the wooden floor. And when he opened his eyes and saw Andi standing beside the daybed, he knew he had to be dreaming.
"Joe?"
He shot straight
up, the sheet dropping to his hips. "Andi? What's wrong?"
"You're in here and I'm in yonder," she told him. "That's what's wrong."
"Are you sure you want—"
"Yes, I'm sure." She held out her hand. "Come to my room and sleep with me. Please, Joe. Please, come with me. I need you to hold me. I need you to—"
Before the next word came from her mouth, he was out of bed and standing before her totally naked, the moonlight outlining his bold silhouette. The sight of him almost took her breath away. He slid his hands beneath her robe and eased the garment down her shoulders. It pooled about her feet in a silky red circle.
When she held open her arms to him, he scooped her up and carried her out of the guest room and down the hall to her own semi-dark bedroom. Moonlight filtered through the sheer cream curtains. He deposited her in the middle of her bed, then came down over her. When he grabbed first one wrist and then the other, trapping them with one of his hands, she stared up at him questioningly.
"You're going to lie there and cooperate." His voice was deep and dark and sensuously dangerous. "And I am going to do whatever I want to do. But you aren't going to touch me. Not yet."
"But, Joe," she whimpered, suddenly realizing his intention.
His mouth took hers in a slow, sweet tasting. Not hurrying. Not forcing. Seducing with gentle pleasure. Bracing himself on one elbow, he aligned his thighs on either side of hers, allowing the ridge of his shaft to intimately rub against her mound. She sighed, and he swallowed the sound as his tongue entered her mouth and moved about inside with languid ease.
Andi squirmed, wanting more, wishing that he would be less gentle. But he would not be rushed. His lips made a journey south, inch by slow, torturous inch, until he licked a ring around first one and then her other nipple, but didn't touch the puckered tip.
"Joe, please. . ."
He nudged her over onto her belly, her hands beneath her. He eased his hands free, then straddled her. When she lifted her head, he pushed her face down and nipped her neck with a stinging love-bite. She moaned and shuddered. He moved from her neck to her shoulders and down her spine, sparing no part of her from his ravaging mouth. When he nibbled the soft flesh on her buttocks, she cried out as desire flooded through her. Before she had a chance to catch her breath, he parted her thighs and painted a moist trail from inner thigh to knee and on to ankle. And then he began the upward climb on the other leg. When he returned to her hips, he slipped his hand between her legs and sought out her hidden kernel. She bucked against his hand when he stroked her, then lifted her hips as she keened softly with frenzied need.
"You like this, don't you?"
"Yes," she replied, breathless with longing.
Joe eased her over onto her back, freeing her hands, but when she reached for him, he slid downward until his head rested at the juncture between her legs. She gripped his shoulders. He reached up and ran his palms over her breasts. She sucked in her breath.
"Joe? What—"
He flicked both nipples at the same time. She gasped. He took each between a thumb and forefinger and began a delicious torment. Wiggling her hips, inviting him without realizing it, Andi moaned. He spread her thighs and nuzzled her intimately.
"Oh, no, don't." She groaned.
"You're mine," he told her. "My woman. Mine to do with as I will. And what I want is to love you until you can't bear any more pleasure."
His mouth and tongue teased and taunted, tasting, licking, laving and loving, until Andi was mindless with the pleasure he had promised. Every fiber of her being came to full alert, aware of the building pressure that Joe forced tighter and tighter until she burst with sensation. Wild and uncontrollable, the shock waves pulsated throughout her body.
While she cried with satisfaction, Joe rose up and over her, then lifted her hips and entered her. One hard, swift thrust. Embedding himself deeply and securely. She had taken all of him, and loved the fullness of having him buried within her.
Setting the pace, he began with slow, deep plunges. Quickly catching on to the tempo, she joined him, their undulations perfectly matched. But as the pressure built anew, Joe increased the speed and fierceness of his jabs until he hammered into her. Her second climax hit with the force of a tidal wave, washing her adrift in pure sensation. She knew nothing. Saw nothing. Heard nothing. She only felt Joe inside her, around her, a part of her now and forever.
While she lingered in those timeless moments of complete satiation, Joe jetted his release into her and groaned as his body shuddered with fulfillment.
He rolled over and onto the bed, tugging her until she fit snugly against him. She clung to him, wanting to whisper that she loved him. But he had said nothing about love, so instead she murmured his name. Joseph. And when she did, he tucked his fist under her chin and lifted her face for a tender, loving kiss.
Chapter 14
When they walked into Rehoboth McKinley Christian Hospital the next morning, Andi felt as if the whole world could tell, just by looking at her, that she was Joseph Ornelas's woman. Wasn't it obvious that she was no longer the person she had been only a few days ago? She certainly didn't feel like the same woman. And she did not think the same. About Joe. About the past. And definitely about the future. Joe might not be ready to make a commitment, but in her heart she was already committed. Totally. Completely.
Her first loyalty was to Joe, and she sensed that his was to her. In the past neither of them had given their all to the relationship, which had been tested in its beginning stages. She had failed Joe as surely as he had failed her. But now they had a second chance, and she had no intention of wasting this priceless opportunity.
Kate Whitehorn met them, a warm smile on her face and a hug for Joe and for Andi. "He rested through the night, and this morning he is awake but not completely alert."
"This is good," Joe told her. "He will be his old self soon."
Kate's smile flickered, but she forced it in place. "Yes, this is good. And all that matters is that he is alive and will recover."
“How is his arm?'' Joe asked, and Andi realized as did Joe that something wasn't quite right with Kate.
Kate's smile melted away, leaving a somber expression on her face. "He has no feeling in his arm and he cannot move it. He can't even wriggle his fingers."
Joe took a deep breath. Andi laid her hand on Kate's shoulder. A palpitating silence lingered for several minutes. Alive with unspoken words, the stillness grew heavy and cumbersome.
"This will pass." Joe finally broke the silence. "It will take time, but he will regain use of his arm."
"I hope you're right." Kate grasped Andi's hand. "Is there no word on Russ?''
"No," Andi replied.
"This endless waiting must be torment for Doli," Kate said. "I must call her and speak with her today."
"That's terribly kind of you." Andi hugged Kate, genuine appreciation in the gesture.
Joe glanced around, scanning the waiting area. “Where is Ed?"
"He has gone to the cafeteria for breakfast," Kate said. "He insisted that I eat before he did."
Joe glanced toward the door to the Surgical Intensive Care Unit. "May I go in and see Eddie?"
"Yes, of course, you may see him. Soon. But now he is sleeping again." Kate patted Joe's arm. "Why don't you and Andi go to see Joanna before she delivers her baby?"
"What?" Andi and Joe spoke simultaneously.
"You did not know?" Kate laughed. "I did not think to call you, and I'm sure J.T. is much too nervous to think of making phone calls. They drove all the way home last night and had to come right back to Gallup this morning."
"She's not due for another few weeks," Andi said. "I hope everything is all right."
"Yes, J.T. told me that the doctor believes she and the baby are both fine," Kate replied. "Babies come when they are ready to be born. My three certainly did." A wistful look appeared in Kate's dark eyes, and her gaze settled on the SICU door. "Eddie was supposed to be born in May
, but he wasn't ready until early June. He was such a big, fat baby. And so healthy."
"He's going to be all right," Andi said. "He will have doctors and nurses and family to make sure that everything possible will be done for him."
Kate nodded. "There is a policeman standing guard outside Eddie's door," she said.
"That's as much for his protection as it is anything else," Joe explained.
Kate focused her gaze on Joe. “Bill Cummings wants to question him the minute Dr. Shull gives his permission."
"Has Eddie said anything about Bobby Yazzi's murder?" Joe asked.
"No, all he has said is that he is sorry for worrying us. And he asked about Russ."
Andi touched Joe's arm, and he responded immediately, warmth and concern in his expression. "I think I'll go check on Joanna," Andi said. "They won't let me in to see Eddie, anyway, since I'm not family."
"I will go with you," Joe told her. "I would like to speak with J.T. I'm sure he is nervous, waiting for Joanna to give birth. At a time like this, a man is helpless to ease his woman's pain. I can only imagine how difficult that is for J.T."
As it would be for you, Andi thought. Joe was a man who loved with the same dedication and passion he brought to everything in his life. This trait, Joe and J.T. shared.
At 3:18 in the afternoon, Joanna Blackwood gave birth to her fourth child, a second daughter whom she and J.T. named Mary Helene in honor of their mothers. The newborn had eyes as black as J.T.'s and a fluff of dark hair, but her tiny face was a replica of her beautiful mother's. While Andi and Joe were gushing and gooing over the new Miss Blackwood and congratulating the happy parents, Ed Whitehorn appeared in the doorway of Joanna's room.
Joe excused himself and met Ed in the hallway. Andi said her goodbyes and quickly followed.
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