by Rita Herron
“Yeah. I graduated from high school, then went to UGA. I was lucky. Got into vet school my junior year.”
“I’m sure your parents are proud. So, you still like what you do?”
“Sure.” Zeke polished off a roll. “Sometimes, telling little old ladies with poodles about fleas is tiresome, but every job has its downside. Mostly I enjoy the animals. And I like surgery, especially trauma cases.”
He noticed her gaze stray to his hands and wondered what she was thinking. Then the waiter brought their food and they both attacked the steaks like starving animals. Either that, or they were both avoiding looking at the other one.
“Do you work on Sundays?”
Zeke shook his head. “Sometimes. I’m thinking of joining the emergency service so I won’t have to go in at night. I need more time with the girls.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” Paige said. “So, tell me about your ex-wife.”
Zeke tore off a chunk of bread, gritting his teeth. “Why do you want to know?”
Paige shrugged, cutting her steak. “The girls mentioned she’s coming home.”
His stomach churned. “She’s supposed to return to the States next week for good.”
Paige scooped up a bite of her baked potato. “I know the girls are looking forward to seeing her.”
But I’m not.
“I’m sure they miss her terribly, Zeke. You must have been devastated when she left.”
“The divorce was hard for everyone at first,” Zeke admitted, annoyed at the subject. This was his night with Paige—he didn’t intend to ruin it by discussing his failed marriage.
“Tell me about you and Derrick,” he said, switching the subject.
Paige blinked. “There’s not much to tell. We’ve known each other forever. High school sweethearts and all that.”
He didn’t like her answer.
He was just about to ask her if they were serious sweethearts now, but the waiter interrupted with dessert menus and the violinist serenading the couple across the room stopped in front of their table, easing into a popular romantic tune. Then Paige gazed at him with a hint of seduction and the sweet agony in her eyes obliterated any questions he’d meant to ask. He didn’t want to talk about his failed marriage or Derrick tonight. He wanted to seduce Paige and end this hot torture burning between them.
“Bring us a hot fudge cake with two spoons,” Zeke told the waiter, determined to end the evening on a lighter note.
Paige’s eyes widened when the waiter set the huge concoction in front of them.
Zeke gave her a teasing grin. “Hey, I love strawberries and chocolate.”
Their gazes locked again, and sensuous didn’t begin to describe the storm of passion in her eyes. Then a sweet vulnerability shadowed her need, and he wanted to reach out and drag her into his arms and kiss her senseless until all the questions lingering between them disappeared. She nibbled at her lower lip, looking uncertain and beyond tempting, and he could almost taste the raw femininity in her heated response. The waiter set the gooey dessert in front of them and he took the spoon, scooped up a bite and practically inhaled it. Paige did the same.
When her tongue flicked the chocolate sauce off the spoon and she licked her lips, he slipped back into his fantasy. Only this time he wasn’t having hot fudge cake for dessert. He was devouring Paige.
PAIGE DECIDED HOT fudge cake was her favorite dessert, that is, except for strawberries. Watching Zeke enjoy the delicious food only fueled her desire for him. She’d felt uncomfortable talking about her mother. Then Zeke had asked about Derrick and she’d been grateful for the interruption. She didn’t want to mention Amelia and Derrick’s engagement, for fear he’d think she was hinting at marriage.
During the ride home, Zeke turned the radio to a soft rock station, and while a blues song wafted through the car, her mind strayed to the impossible—a deliciously sinful night in bed with Zeke doing things she’d never imagined doing with a man before.
Perhaps her hormones simply needed to be readjusted.
She stole a glance at Zeke. Time to face reality. Not only was she in deep lust with the man, wanting his broad hands to roam across her body and drag her beneath him, but she actually liked him. A dangerous combination.
Her mother’s past haunted her. If she allowed herself to become wrapped up in his kids, she might not finish her education, might never fulfill her dreams, might never become anything more than a salesclerk. She might end up resenting them all just as her mother had. Plus, if she accepted responsibility for the girls and something happened to them, she’d never forgive herself.
She might get her heart broken to boot.
Hadn’t Zeke confirmed that his ex-wife was coming back? She’d seen the pain in his face when she’d broached the subject. Was he still in love with her? If she wanted to reconcile, he’d probably feel he owed it to the girls to try and make things work. And Paige would be left home alone with a huge hole in her heart and a house so quiet that it creaked with emptiness. She was just now getting used to being alone again, just now exorcising the sound of Joey’s young chatter from her rooms.
The silence in the car seemed fraught with anticipation. Paige wrapped her arms around her middle in a protective embrace, forcing herself to curb her desires. Zeke thumped his fingers on the steering column in time with the music, his deep baritone humming the rhythm along with the song. When they pulled onto their street, she tensed, once again thinking about how delicious the hot fudge had been and wishing she could taste it again. This time on Zeke’s lips.
“I guess we should be checking the neighborhood for anything suspicious.” Zeke’s gaze scanned the street.
Paige glanced up and down the passenger side of the road. “I don’t see anything amiss. Most of the break-ins have been during the day, anyway.”
“That is odd,” Zeke said. “Maybe they’ll catch the vandals soon. I hate to think about some of these older people being frightened.”
Zeke parked in her driveway and Paige didn’t wait for him to open the door but hopped out of the passenger side. He moved around the van and was standing beside her in a flash, the palm of his hand brushing her back as he escorted her up the sidewalk. “Thanks for dinner.”
“You’re welcome.” He motioned to the porch swing and Paige hesitated, searching his face.
“I just want to talk,” he said as if he’d read the concern in her eyes. His slow smile softened her reservations. She let him pull her to the swing. Lifting his feet, he gently pushed the swing so they glided slowly back and forth.
“Look, there’s the North Star,” she said, twisting her hands in her lap.
He caught her hands and stilled them. “When I was a kid, my dad used to take me camping. He always told me if I got lost to find that star, and it would lead me home.”
Paige met his gaze. “Things were simple when we were little, weren’t they?”
Zeke nodded, then lifted his thumb to her cheek and traced a path down her jawline. “Nothing’s simple anymore, is it?”
“No,” Paige said softly. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, chilled from the evening air, her senses tingling from Zeke’s masculine scent.
“You’re beautiful, Paige,” Zeke murmured. Paige felt trapped by the husky resonance of his voice, then she looked into the dark fathomless irises of his eyes and tried to remember her earlier arguments about not getting involved with him.
“Zeke, dinner was nice, but—”
Zeke gently pressed his finger to her lips. “No buts. Can’t we forget about everything else for a few minutes? Simply pretend it’s you and me, that nothing else matters.”
His rough whisper melted her defenses like snow evaporating on a hot day. Zeke slid his arm around her and pulled her to him, his heady masculine scent sending a surge of longing through her. He tilted his head, she met his mouth. Ever so gently he placed his lips over hers, tasting, nibbling, seeking permission. Paige inhaled the sweet whisper of his breath and tasted choco
late.
His lips covered hers, pressing, seeking, urging her to taste his need, and she turned, her body pressing into his as his lips consumed her with fire. His hands encircled her waist, hers dug into his thick hair. Swallowing a moan, he plunged his tongue into her mouth, driving it deeper and increasing the pressure until she knew he felt her breasts pushing against the hard wall of his chest, until she could no longer stand simply kissing him. She arched against him and he stroked her back, then gently his hand swept around her waist and covered her breast, kneading and molding her while she melded against him. She moaned and clutched his broad shoulders, excitement coursing through her as she felt his muscles ripple and his body shudder with need.
“God, Paige,” Zeke whispered softly when she finally drug her lips away from his. “You feel so good.”
Paige couldn’t answer, she was scorching inside and out by the flames he had ignited within her. He teased her earlobe with his tongue, then planted gentle, but hungry kisses down her neck, and she arched against him again, shamefully aching for him, moaning when he exhaled and dipped his head to nip the bud of her nipple through her blouse. His other hand slipped beneath her shirt and unclasped her bra, his fingers teasing her until she cried out his name in a husky plea. Her bare breasts felt the chill of the cool night air as he nudged up her sweater and exposed her to his dark probing eyes. Paige tensed, then clutched his head with her hands, digging her fingernails in his scalp as he lowered his mouth.
A shrill noise—a voice?—exploded between them and Paige stilled. Zeke paused, his breathing coming out in erratic pants, his tongue a fraction away from her aching, welcoming body. Moonlight spilled over her shoulder and highlighted his hungry features as he eased her shirt back down to cover her and made an attempt to calm himself.
They both glanced up to see Erma Spivy running toward them from across the street. “Paige, Dr. Blalock!”
Paige’s body protested painfully, reminding her how close they’d been to seeking fulfillment in each other’s arms. She’d told him she wasn’t the kind of girl to hop into bed with a guy, they were supposedly only friends, and here she was practically begging him to make love to her on her front porch.
Disgusted with herself, she righted her clothing, grateful the awning obliterated Erma’s view. Zeke dropped his hands to his lap, his expression solemn. “We need to talk, Paige,” he said quietly.
She pushed away from him and stood. “Not now.”
He grabbed her arm and swung around to face him. She shivered at the intensity in his probing eyes. “Later then. This isn’t over.”
She shook her head, her voice shaky. “Yes it is. What happened between us was a mistake, Zeke. We can’t start a relationship—”
“Why not?”
She forced herself to tell him the truth, at least part of it. “Because you have a family and I don’t want the responsibility.” I can’t have it. I might let something happen to the girls. And your ex is returning to town.
Zeke’s eyes narrowed, hurt darkening his expression. But before Paige could elaborate, Erma had crossed the street. She nearly ran over the monkey grass as she hurried toward them. “Paige, somebody broke into my house! Dwayne was so rattled he slipped and fell and knocked himself unconscious.”
Paige’s heart stopped. “Is he all right? Did you call the police?”
Zeke headed toward the steps, his forehead furrowed. “Is the intruder still there?”
“No, they ran off, and the police have already come and gone.” She swiped a hand across her forehead, panting. “But Dwayne’s lying down with a concussion, and I’m afraid to stay here by myself with him. When I saw you two drive up, I told Dwayne I’d come and get you.”
Paige patted Erma’s hand. “I’ll be right there, Erma. Try and relax.”
Zeke pressed his hand to her back, his look warning her that things weren’t settled between them. But they had to be, she reminded herself, as she followed Erma.
They simply had to be.
Chapter Eight
Zeke watched Paige comforting the elderly woman. Derrick had shown up at the Spivys like a modern-day version of a Superman hero, installing new dead bolts and talking about the upscale security system he would install the next day. While Derrick had wowed the women with his knowledge of the latest in technology, Zeke had calmed Mr. Spivy, but now he was simply twiddling his thumbs while Lois Lane and Clark Kent saved the day.
“Thanks for coming over, Derrick,” Paige said. “I know the Spivys will feel more secure with new locks.”
“No problem.” Derrick winked at Paige. “I’d do anything for you.”
The steak Zeke had eaten earlier clumped in his stomach like leather.
“I don’t know if I can fall asleep or not,” Mrs. Spivy muttered. “I keep thinking about some stranger coming in my house and I start shaking.”
“I know you’re nervous, Mrs. Spivy. Why don’t I stay here with you for a while?” Paige put her arm around the trembling woman and patted her back. “I’ll rest on your couch while you lie down with Mr. Spivy and try to sleep.”
Zeke admired Paige’s caring attitude, but took her declaration as a dismissal of him and headed toward the door in frustration. Paige caught his arm, the imprint of her slender fingers burning through his shirt and reminding him of their evening together.
“Thanks for talking to Mr. Spivy, Zeke.”
He shrugged. “It was no big deal. I care about them, too.”
Paige stared at his arm where her fingers still lay, then met his gaze, the yearning in her eyes mirroring his own. “You may not realize it, but your simply sitting with him made him feel better.” The corners of her mouth lifted into a smile and he wanted to reach out and touch her lips, to kiss them. “And I appreciate your coming with me.”
He nodded, hoping she’d changed her mind about the two of them, but Derrick called her name and she broke the spell by pulling away and leaving him at the door alone. He walked home, puzzled over the hunger he’d seen in Paige’s eyes and the distance she’d placed between them. He thought about what she’d said about her mother resenting not finishing her education. Renee had pretty much said the same thing to him about her modeling career. And now Paige…if he got involved with her and she didn’t finish her degree or pursue her dreams, would she end up resenting him?
Her question about Renee bothered him. Did she think he wanted a reconciliation with his ex?
He drank in the peaceful evening night, inhaling the sweet scents of dogwood blossoms and honeysuckle in the breeze. Stars glittered and twinkled above him. Like a child, he paused and closed his eyes to make a wish—a silly wish that wouldn’t come true, at least not tonight. Because he wished things weren’t so damn complicated. Wished he didn’t have to spend the night alone, that Paige would come to him, that the two of them could share a night of passion that would end in promises.
No, he didn’t want an affair. Having children had matured him, ending his wild roaming days. He wanted a woman who would last forever.
THE NEXT DAY Zeke still felt unsettled. After leaving his neighbors the night before, he’d tried to sleep, but the memory of Paige’s body next to his fired him up, and the reality of her parting words made acid burn in his stomach. He knew it was better they hadn’t slept together. Making love would have complicated a relationship apparently going nowhere. Still, he wanted her with an intensity that hurt.
Did she want a no-strings man who’d support her career and wouldn’t want to tie her down with kids? Like Derrick. He raked a hand across his clean-shaven jaw in frustration; he had no choice about the family, but now he’d probably ruined chances of a friendship with Paige. Hell, who was he kidding? He couldn’t simply be friends with Paige. The attraction was too strong.
Deciding he needed to distract himself from his sexy neighbor, he dressed for church. Surely he could curb his unholy feelings toward her in the place of worship.
But even in church, he found himself imagining Paige sitting nex
t to him on the pew, her small hand folded in his, her stomach round with his baby. Maybe a boy this time, a brother for Summer and August.
A single woman named Betty Eaton slid up beside him. “I saw that flier your daughters put up in the nursery and thought we should talk.”
He jerked around. She had shoulder-length blond hair, a model-thin figure, and a certain amount of sex appeal, but unfortunately, she didn’t spark his interest at all. Reminded him of a silky terrier, all shiny and showy—not a real dog—not a real woman. Then her words sank in. “What? The flier?”
The church organ music began to play and an elderly man stepped up to sing a solo. “This flier your daughters tacked on the bulletin board,” the woman whispered.
Zeke groaned. “They put it up here at church, too?”
Betty laughed good-naturedly and patted his arm. “Don’t worry. I removed the flier.” She handed him the paper and he stuffed it in his pocket, vowing to give his daughters another lecture as soon as he drove them home.
“I had no idea they’d posted this crazy advertisement in church,” Zeke hissed between announcements.
“Don’t worry. I work in the nursery area, you wouldn’t believe some of the stuff the children tell us.”
Organ music signaled the beginning of the service and Zeke opened a hymnal just as the soloist burst into a deep chorus of “Go Tell It on the Mountain.”
A nervous laugh escaped him. His girls would probably be doing that next—climbing some mountain and screaming to all the people below that their father needed a wife.
As if the lady beside him had read his mind, she whispered, “So, how about lunch?”
Zeke forced himself to say yes.
An hour and a half later, when Betty had poured out the details of her nasty divorce and distrust of men, he regretted his decision. She loved children, but she also had nine cats, and when she admitted she prepared gourmet meals for them every night, a red flag waved in his head.
“They all sleep with me,” she said with a light laugh that reminded him of a sick cat. “Queen Elizabeth and Elvira are due to have kittens next week.”