His forehead knitted in a frown, but he didn’t open his eyes.
“Come on, you don’t want to sleep out here. Come inside.”
Still, his eyes remained closed, but the corners of his mouth quirked up in what could have been called a drunken grin, except that she doubted he’d been drinking. Then his long, thick lashes finally made a leisurely sweep to half-mast. “Is this an invitation?”
“To the guest room,” she said, still quietly, as if she might wake someone else.
“Nah, that’s all right. I know you don’t want me here.”
“It’s okay.”
“I’m gonna get going to the lodge. Soon as I can move.”
“Maybe you are drunk,” she muttered, referring to the slow motion of his words and the ridiculous smile on his face.
“Did somebody say I was?”
“You just seem so silly.”
“Do you like it?”
She did. A little. For once Mr. Take-Care-of-Every-thing-and-Everyone couldn’t even seem to take care of himself. But she wouldn’t admit it. “Have you been drinking?”
“Water. Lots of it.”
“So you’re just tired.”
“Haven’t done this kind of work since I was a pup.”
“Well, come on and put your old bones to bed upstairs.”
He sighed. “I don’t think I can move just yet.”
Beth didn’t want to touch him. Any physical contact between them would be like holding a match head to a hot burner. But she didn’t think he could move on his own, either, so she held out her hands to him. “Come on, I’ll help you up.”
A loopy, one-sided smile curled his mouth and he raised his arms, clasping her hands in his. But the moment he did, his weakness disappeared, and he pulled her down gently on top of him—chest to chest, stomach to stomach. With his thighs still spread wide, she had no choice but to bend her knees and let her feet fly like flags in the air, making her contact with his lower regions all the more complete.
“Very funny,” she said.
“I thought so.”
She tried pushing herself away but his arms were crossed over her back, a hand on each hip, locking her to him. The best she could do was raise her head and shoulders slightly above his.
“So much for being weak and tired,” she said, trying not to be too aware of the feel of him beneath her.
“I missed you today,” he told her in a way that left her wondering if he was joking.
“You saw me this morning.”
His smile stretched into a grin. “That was something, wasn’t it?”
She had the urge to rest her cheek on his chest, to relax atop him, let herself ride the hard hills and valleys of his big body like water over rock, and talk about the wonders of what they’d created together.
But of course she couldn’t do that.
The best she could do was agree. “Hearing the heartbeat is incredible.”
“I think I did pretty well at this baby making. Gave him a strong heart.”
Beth laughed. “What should I take issue with first? That you’re so cocksure the baby is a boy? Or that you’re taking all the credit?”
“Doesn’t matter. They’re both true,” he goaded.
“Seems to me that you only contributed one ingredient. I’m doing the rest.”
The sun had darkened his skin to a ruddiness that she could see even in the golden glow of lamplight, and it gave a sharper edge to his facial structure, which made her think suddenly of a warrior, especially when his features contorted into a mock menacing expression.
He covered the sides of her rib cage with his splayed fingers. “Don’t make me tickle you into taking that back, woman,” he threatened.
“Tickle me and you’ll never see daylight again,” she countered, squirming a little to try to escape.
Not a good idea. She felt the bulge inside his swimming suit rise against her.
“Come on, let’s just get you set up in the guest room,” she said, in a hurry to end this play before it led to anything more.
But Ash wasn’t so inclined. He did a slight, speculative tickling of her sides. “Admit what a good job I did making this baby.”
“It’s me who’s making this baby.”
“You’re asking for it,” he warned, giving her another taste of what was to come.
She tried again to push herself out of his grasp but it was useless. He held tight.
“Last chance,” he said. “Tell me what a good job I did.”
“I might holler for help and get my brothers down here after you, but that’s all you’re hearing from me.”
“Okay. You asked for it.”
Beth hated to be tickled and he knew it. A devilish smile played on his lips again and those fingers began to torture her sides.
She couldn’t help writhing and wriggling even as she tried to get free. But all she accomplished was to bring herself closer in contact with him. Her traitorous nipples kerneled and strained inside even the bigger sized bra she wore, until finally she shouted amidst her own miserable laughter, “Okay, okay, I give up.”
He stopped tickling her, letting his hands follow the curve of her ribs instead, the tips of his fingers just barely brushing the sides of her breasts. “Tell me what a good job I did,” he demanded in a voice grown husky since it had last been used.
Her arms were tiring and if he didn’t let her go soon, she wasn’t going to have any choice but to collapse completely on him. “You did a wonderful job,” she deadpanned insincerely.
“Not heartfelt enough,” he claimed, curling his fingers for a second assault.
But just as he did, the baby gave the biggest kick Beth had felt yet. A kick big enough and close enough to the outside of her stomach for even Ash to feel it.
He stopped short, staring up into her eyes with a sudden look of shock and alarm. “What was that?”
Beth laughed at him. “What do you think it was?”
“The baby?”
Then it happened again.
“Is it all right?” Ash demanded.
Beth laughed again. “You did know they kick, didn’t you?”
“This soon?”
“Sooner. I was feeling it by the time I went to see Cele, but then it was only a fluttering and I just thought I had butterflies in my stomach or was hungry or something. It’s only been what I’d call kicks for the past couple of weeks, but this is the first time it’s been this hard. It must not like to be tickled, either.”
But everything that had come before seemed lost on Ash. His bushy brows were beetled and he sat up, swinging Beth to his lap at the same time and beginning to place a hand on her stomach.
He didn’t quite make it before apparently remembering that he didn’t have the freedom.
“Can I feel it this way?”
“You can try, but there’s no guarantee it’ll happen again right now.”
He placed his hand over the bulge of her middle as carefully as if she might break, staring down at it as he did.
There were all sorts of shoulds and shouldn’ts that went through Beth’s mind, but she quieted them and let herself enjoy the moment.
It felt good to be there, perched across Ash’s thighs, the heat of his body all around her, one of his long arms bracing her back, his big hand palming the mound his baby made as if it were a small basketball.
He was so intent, so serious, so awestruck. All the playfulness had gone out of him, and he waited motionlessly, soundlessly, as if he meant to hold that pose no matter how long it took for him to feel the baby kick again.
Then it did, but much farther to the side.
“It moved,” she told him, redirecting his hand just in time for yet another kick, though this one was more like what she’d been feeling before, just a gentle thump.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, sounding concerned.
“No,” she answered with yet another laugh, hearing the sensual timbre of her own voice.
Being so close to Ash, ha
ving him touch her with a certain amount of intimacy, was getting to her.
Her own hand still covered his where it rested over her stomach, and she was suddenly very aware of the texture of his skin, of the sharp bones of his knuckles beneath her palm, of what it felt like to be caressed by that hand—for he was caressing her.
Somewhere along the way he’d stopped just waiting for the baby to move again and begun to knead her middle much the way she’d known him to knead her breasts in times past.
He also wasn’t watching his hand anymore. When she glanced up, she found him studying her face. His eyes were coal black and shaded by the shelf of his brows and she knew he wanted to kiss her again. That he wanted to do more than kiss her.
And she wanted him to. Lord help her. She wanted him to.
All on its own her chin tilted, her lips parted.
His gaze dropped to them. He moved slightly nearer.
But then he stopped.
He’d given his word the night before that this wouldn’t happen again. Beth knew he remembered it. And that he wouldn’t break it.
But never in her life had she craved anything as much as she did the feel of his lips on hers at that moment. And she hadn’t given her word.
Still holding his hand to her stomach, she reached with her free hand to the side of his face and raised herself enough to press her mouth to his as tentatively as if she’d never kissed anyone before. It flashed through her mind that if he rejected it, she had it coming for the two times she’d rejected him.
But he didn’t.
His lips parted and he accepted the kiss, answered it with a patience that somehow seemed strained, as if he had to force himself not take over.
His arm around her back tightened. His hand at her middle kept up the caress her breasts yearned for, and his tongue followed her lead, but he initiated nothing, driving her all the wilder inside with wanting him.
Then he ended the kiss, slowly, gently, regretfully enough that it wasn’t a rejection but more like a first-date kiss that had gone far enough.
“Your idea of getting to know each other without sex clouding it—the way we should have the first time around—was a good one. Let’s work on it.”
At that moment, with every nerve in her body awake and alive and desire already turning her skin sensitive, that seemed like the worst idea she’d ever had.
But she wasn’t about to let Ash know that, so she merely nodded her agreement. And this time when she tried to get up, he let her go.
She glanced in the direction of the house. “It really is okay if you stay in the guest room,” she lied, because wanting him the way she did at that moment made it less okay than it had been before.
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t stay in the guest room. I’d last about ten minutes and then I’d be in your room.”
Sounded good to her. Not that she’d say that, either. “Then let me drive you to the lodge.”
“I wouldn’t let you drive back out here alone last night, and I’m not going to tonight.” He stood and her eyes rode his chest all the way.
“What if you fall asleep behind the wheel?”
“I won’t. I’m wide-awake now.”
She understood the feeling. Desire pumped adrenaline through her, too.
He cupped her chin between two fingers and tilted it as he bent low enough to kiss her once more, chastely, gently. “We have to finish the roof tomorrow, and Linc’s bachelor party is in the evening, so I may not see you until the day after.”
She laughed at that, though wryly. Hearing it sparked vivid memories. It seemed their entire marriage had been a series of similar statements—one job or engagement or expectation on top of another, all strung together to keep him busy elsewhere. And even though his absence was what she’d been telling herself she wanted, even though it was her brother he was helping, her brother’s party he was going to, it felt bad.
Bad enough to remind her that there were things she needed not to forget.
“Sure,” she said.
Her tone made him frown again, more seriously this time, but she didn’t give him the chance to ask.
“Be careful driving back to town,” she said, turning from him.
“Beth?”
She didn’t pause. “Good night,” she called as if he hadn’t said anything, going into the house and locking the sliding door behind her.
Ash was still standing where she’d left him, watching her, his hands on his hips, his confusion obvious even from a distance.
But rather than let him know what was going on inside her, she gave him a small smile and a parade-pretty wave.
Then she went through the kitchen and up to her room, wishing all the way that the reminder had the power to keep her from wanting him with her so much she could cry.
Again.
Chapter Six
Beth spent the following day doing the final handwork on Della’s bridesmaid dress for the wedding and listening intently for sounds of her brothers returning from roofing the honky-tonk. Try as she might, she couldn’t help waiting anxiously, hoping they’d be done early and Ash would come home with them.
It didn’t happen.
She delayed leaving for Kansas’s house until Linc and Jackson returned, but Ash wasn’t with them. He’d gone to the lodge to shower and change for the bachelor party.
It was good, she told herself as she drove to Kansas’s place. Good that she’d had all day to feel the old loneliness, the old longing to see him. It was good that now she felt the old disappointment, the old sense of taking a back seat to other things he was doing; of being out of sight, out of mind.
It was all good, because it put things into perspective for her. Things it was easier for her to lose sight of when her view was filled with Ash.
Kansas’s sister Della and her four kids were already there when Beth arrived. As was Danny, who had been staying with Kansas while Linc worked on the roof.
They ordered pizza and broke out a bottle of wine for their own small wedding-eve celebration, taking care of last-minute details while the kids all played outside.
Of course Beth didn’t touch the wine, but she did enjoy the companionship and camaraderie of the two Daye sisters as the liquor loosened them up.
Della drank by far the most, and by the time she gathered her kids to walk home, she’d gone from being giddy to being sentimental.
“I’m glad you’re marrying Linc,” she told Kansas, as Beth stood by while the sisters hugged.
Kansas thanked Della and told her she loved her, then made a joke to lighten the moment before Della finally left.
“Let’s get Danny to bed and then we can relax,” Kansas suggested as they herded the little boy back inside.
Beth didn’t do much in the way of putting her nephew down for the night. Kansas was already mothering the three-year-old and Danny seemed to have accepted her as just that—his mom.
Things would be good for Linc and Kansas and Danny, Beth realized, feeling a wave of sentimentality of her own. They might be a ready-made family, but they seemed to fit together as if it were meant to be. And, as she so often did, she envied them what they had together.
When Danny was in bed, Beth and Kansas took two glasses of ice tea and sat on the white wicker chairs on the front porch.
“So, how are things?” Kansas asked then, making it sound very much like a leading question.
“Good. Everything’s good,” Beth answered as if she hadn’t understood her friend’s intention.
“You know, Linc and Jackson are worried about you.”
“I don’t know why. There’s no reason to be.” Beth could feel Kansas watching her in the dim glow of the porch light, but she merely pretended a great interest in the railing.
“Is everything all right between you and Ash?”
How did a person answer a question like that under the circumstances? Beth shrugged. “He’s still here” was all she could think to say.
“Is that good or bad?”
; “It would be good if he left.”
“Then it’s bad that he’s here,” Kansas concluded.
“Well, not really bad, no,” Beth hedged, for her conscience wouldn’t allow her to make Ash the villain. The only thing bad about his being here had been her own difficulties controlling her feelings for him.
“Is it just that I had wine and you didn’t, or is there another reason I’m confused?”
“Maybe because I am.”
“Ah,” Kansas said as if they’d hit on something. “Let me guess—you’re still attracted to him, even though you’re divorced.”
Beth couldn’t openly admit to that. Instead she said, “Ash is a good man. He really is. I admire and respect him.”
“Umm-hmm,” Kansas agreed with suppressed laughter just below the utterance.
“I always did enjoy his company—what I had of it,” Beth conceded, feeling as if she were going a little further out on a limb and yet unable to stop herself. “He has a great sense of humor and he can be very attentive. He’s generous and caring and sensitive...” Just remembering the sight of tears in his eyes as he’d listened to the baby’s heartbeat the day before made her own eyes sting. “And I’m sure he’ll be a good father,” she added quietly.
“None of that makes him sound like someone you wouldn’t want to have around. Does he repulse you physically or something?”
Beth laughed spontaneously and wryly at that, giving herself away. “Lord, I wish he did,” she muttered.
“Then you are attracted to him.”
Turned on by him. So hot for him she could melt—and very well might have the night before if he hadn’t stopped things before they even got started. But she avoided responding to her friend’s statement. “His being here is only an interlude. A brief interlude, I’m sure.”
“And then what?”
“And then he’ll leave. Like the last two days with the roofing, for example. Someone or something somewhere will need him—for a good reason, a good cause, in a way that I totally agree he should accommodate—and he’ll be off again. His being here now, spending time together, isn’t the reality of what life with him is like.”
Kansas murmured knowingly. “Linc said that whenever he visited the reservation he barely saw Ash, that he never knew if it was because Ash was leaving the two of you alone to catch up or if it was always that way.”
Baby My Baby (A Ranching Family) Page 11