Custody For Two (Baby Bonds #1)

by Karen Rose Smith

  This time it was his turn to groan.

  “It’s getting awfully hot in here,” he complained, and she laughed. But she didn’t stop. She wanted to see how far she could go before Dylan’s restraint broke. As she cupped him and molded her hand to him, she knew he was fully aroused. But Dylan had more stamina and self-control than she ever expected, although he had to want satisfaction as badly as she did. He unfastened her jeans and slid one hand under the waistband, teasing around the edge of her panties.

  “Your skin’s so silky,” he murmured in her ear as he kissed her neck, pushed her sweater to the side and kissed her shoulder, too.

  “Your skin’s so hot.”

  “That’s not all that’s hot.”

  He moved, putting his legs between hers and settled his knee right where she wanted him to touch her.

  “Dylan,” she breathed.

  “What?” He moved his knee in a gentle pressure that created tension inside of her. After he pulled down her zipper, he shifted his knee and slipped his hand into her panties.

  “Look at me,” he ordered gently.

  Her cheeks had to be red. She was embarrassed and felt shy, but she looked at him, anyway. Embarrassment fled as his finger performed magic. Her cry rang out into the black night as she climaxed sharply, quickly, the trembling orgasm taking her totally by surprise.

  As the quivering sensation ended, he said, “I can’t wait to sink inside of you.”

  He threw the cover aside for a short while until they undressed each other. The night air cooled their heated skin, but not enough to cool their ardor.

  “Stretch out in the middle,” he suggested, and after Shaye did that, he slipped on a condom and lowered himself on top of her, pulling the sleeping bag over his back. When he touched her, he found her still damp and ready for him. Slowly he slid inside.

  “Have you ever done anything like this before?” She studied him, needing to know.

  “You mean, made love with a woman on a mountain?” He didn’t look angry, but rather amused, and she nodded.

  “No, I haven’t. Most women prefer mattresses and amenities.”

  “I’m not most women.”

  “You’ve done this before?” he asked with a chuckle.

  “Goodness, no. I can’t believe I’m doing it now.”

  “You’re doing it, Shaye. You’re doing it.”

  Their banter faded away into sighs and moans. Dylan’s thrusts were strong and hard, and Shaye welcomed every one of them. She’d climaxed and never expected to have it happen again, but that delicious tension began winding tight inside her once more. Her muscles tightened, her legs gripped Dylan and she thought she heard the thundering hooves of a thousand mustangs. The sound was simply the blood rushing through her, faster, hotter, until she was crying out once more and Dylan’s groan resonated through her.

  A few moments later Dylan’s beard stubble grazed her cheek as he lifted his head and looked down at her. “Are you all right?”

  Still wrapped in the haze of desire, she nodded. In Dylan’s arms, she felt very all right.

  “I think we’ll go inside to sleep. You’ll be more comfortable.”

  “I don’t think I can move.” A delicious lethargy had taken her over.

  “You don’t have to move. I will.” Before she could protest, he’d separated from her. She felt the rush of cold air as he moved away from her and the bedroll. Then he scooped her up with the sleeping bag, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking you to the camper.”

  “You’re naked. You don’t have shoes on.”

  When he laughed, she felt like an idiot, but his voice was tender as he replied, “I’m fine. By the time you snuggle up in bed, I’ll have the fire out and I’ll be in there with you.”

  They’d left the door of the camper open and now he shoved it aside with his elbow and deposited her inside. Climbing into the bunk above the cab, she let the sleeping bag drop to the floor. There was a sheet and a blanket already in the bunk and she used those. A few minutes later she felt the camper rock slightly as Dylan stepped inside. He must have brought their clothes in because she heard the rustle of fabric and shoes clunk on the floor. Then he was beside her, adjusting the sheet and blanket over his lower body.

  The covers were cool and she shivered.

  “Turn on your side,” he murmured, “with your back to me.”

  After she did, Dylan warmed her. As his arm went around her, she knew she wouldn’t be cold again. She closed her eyes and Dylan’s breath was warm on her neck. Sleep came easily, and relaxing into Dylan’s embrace, Shaye knew she’d never felt so safe.

  Morning dawned and sun streamed in the small camper window. As Shaye awakened, she felt Dylan’s arm still around her and she kept very still. Last night had been wonderful. He’d loved her so well…so tenderly. Yet doubts began to take the place of sated well-being.

  Vivid memories from last night came flooding back, and she considered every one of them as if she were reading one of her case reports. Supposedly, sex hadn’t been Dylan’s motivation in bringing her up here. But when she examined the whole picture, hadn’t each of his words, each touch, each look led to that? Did he think if they were lovers she wouldn’t go forward with Timmy’s adoption? Did he think if they were lovers she wouldn’t oppose what he wanted to do? And what was that, exactly? Have Timmy live with him when he was around? Live with her when he wasn’t? She simply couldn’t imagine it, and now in the light of day the idea that Dylan was using her in some way simply wouldn’t go away.

  She was to start back to work a week from tomorrow. Did he want her to leave Timmy with him rather than with Barb? What happened when she had to work full-time and Dylan was gone? She wanted Timmy’s life to be consistent and stable.

  If she brought up any of her doubts now, she had the feeling the whole day would be tense. It seemed better to wait. Maybe they could talk after they got back to camp…after he photographed the horses. She had one question she had to ask him, and she didn’t know if she wanted to hear the answer to it. She had the day to think about it, and to put last night in perspective.

  Dylan’s hand moved on her hip. In a husky voice, he asked, “Are you awake?”

  She turned onto her back. “Yes, I’m awake.”

  As she studied his face, she realized she was more in love with him than she ever thought possible. But she wasn’t sure about Dylan’s emotions any more than his motives. And she couldn’t let him kiss her again, she couldn’t let him touch her again until she sorted everything out.

  She motioned to the sunshine dappling the floor. “It looks like it’s going to be a great day.” Sitting up, she scooted to the edge of the mattress and stepped down onto the camper floor. “I’ll wash up and brush my teeth, then we can scramble up those eggs. Do you want the bacon, too?”

  The sleep-hazy hooded look was gone from Dylan’s eyes as he studied her now. “You’re chipper this morning.”

  “I can’t wait to see the horses again. How are we going to find them?”

  Picking up his clothes from the sofa, she sorted them into one pile and hers into another.

  “Either we’ll find them, or they’ll find us.”

  “They’ll find us? Aren’t they afraid of humans?”

  “That depends. Julia and I found out if we tried to hide and pretend we weren’t there, they were more skittish—as if they expected a predator to pop out at them at any moment. I often got a better view when we just stood perfectly still, or sat perfectly still, out in the open. Then they seemed to pay us no more mind than a tree. I’m not sure how they think. It would be interesting to study them over a period of time.”

  He climbed down from the bunk. “We might see more foals. Mares have babies through November.”

  “Have you done research on the wild mustangs?” she asked, wondering how he knew all this.

  “No, but I came up here anytime I could when I was a kid.”

  “And you
photographed them before?”

  “Not really. For some reason when I’d come up here to watch them, I’d forget about taking pictures. I’d get caught up in their antics.”

  “I hope we can find them.”

  “We will.”

  When Dylan smiled at her like that, everything inside her responded to him. That was what she didn’t want today. While they were talking, she’d quickly dressed, not wanting to be naked in front of him now. She felt too vulnerable.

  Putting on her hiking boots, but not lacing them, she went to the door.

  “I can heat water so you can wash up.”

  He seemed oblivious to his nakedness. She wasn’t. “No need. I know you want to get going. I’m just going outside for a few minutes while…while you get dressed.”

  “If you want to stay in here and use the portable potty first, I can start breakfast.”

  The truth was, she couldn’t be cooped up in the camper with him a moment longer. She couldn’t look at all that tanned skin, his fit body… “No, you go ahead and give a shout when you’re done.”

  Opening the door, she stepped outside into the sage-filled, sun-streaked, blue-skied morning, needing a hefty, healthy dose of fresh air.

  The band stallion protected his mares and the two foals, ambling around them. Dylan knew the dun-colored horse was aware they were there. But as long as the animals sensed no danger, they didn’t seem to mind. At one point, the stallion headed for them, snorted, then changed direction and veered away from them. Earlier, he and Shaye had seen a group of bachelors, young stallions not old enough to rule over their own band. When they matured, they would vie for the right to steal a mare.

  Today, everything was peaceful…at least in the mustang world.

  He and Shaye had taken a break and eaten lunch a bit earlier. She’d been terribly quiet this morning and he knew something was on her mind because she shied away whenever he got close. He wished he knew what was running through her pretty head.

  Lowering his camera from his eye, he checked his watch. “We should probably start back if we want to be home by supper.”

  “Yes, we should,” Shaye agreed. After taking a long last look at the wild mustangs, she said, “Thank you for this. I really enjoyed it.”

  There was genuine pleasure in her voice but her words were much too polite.

  As they began the hike back to camp, the sun was hot on his shoulders, the wind stiff through his hair. He’d told Shaye to bring a hat, knowing she wasn’t used to the sun. With the straw hat plunked on her head, its tie under her chin, she looked adorable. She’d tied her jacket around her waist as he’d done with his sweatshirt. As they trekked over rock, hiked over brush, stopped now and then to take in blooming cacti and wildflowers as well as another beautiful vista, his adrenaline surged faster.

  “The gallery showing is Saturday night. Think you’ll be able to come?” he asked.

  “Sure. I wouldn’t miss it. Flutes and Drums will be the hottest spot in town. With the tourist traffic, you should sell all your photographs.”

  “We’ll see. Lily’s trying to convince me to put more time into marketing prints.”

  “Signed and numbered ones?” Shaye asked.

  “Yes. That would make them more collectible.”

  “That sounds like a plan.”

  Shaye’s pablum-like response made Dylan stop and catch her elbow. “Tell me what’s wrong. You’ve been distracted all morning.”

  After a look at her boots, she raised her gaze to his. “I was going to wait until we got back to camp.”

  “Wait for what?”

  “I need answers. I need to know what last night was all about.”

  “That’s easy. It was about you and me enjoying each other.”

  “I don’t have affairs, Dylan. I don’t date a man, sleep with him and then move on as if it never happened.”

  He’d thought they were getting to know each other better. He’d thought she’d finally stopped denying the chemistry between them so they could connect on a deeper level. But now he wasn’t so sure. Now he realized he’d been right about Shaye, and she might want something he couldn’t give her.

  “What do you want to know, Shaye?” He didn’t know what he expected, but the question she asked wasn’t it.

  “Tell me something, Dylan. If Julia hadn’t made me Timmy’s legal guardian, if you’d met me here or on some photo shoot, would you have slept with me?”

  As he absorbed her question, it made him angry. “That’s a hypothetical situation. I can’t answer that.”

  “You can’t or you won’t? Face it, Dylan. I’m probably not the kind of woman you usually get involved with, am I?”

  When he thought about the women he’d been involved with in the past, he knew she was right. He chose women who weren’t interested in any more than satisfaction and comfort for a few nights. He chose women who didn’t have strings attached, who wouldn’t tie him down.

  “I can’t classify women into Type A and Type B—”

  “Yes, you can. Who were you last involved with?”

  “You want her name?”

  “No. What did she do?”

  “She was a reporter,” he answered in exasperation.

  “Right. On assignment in a place where you were staying for a limited amount of time.”

  “Yes,” he snapped.

  “See what I mean? So, why me? Because you think it will make our road a little smoother? Because you think I won’t go to a lawyer again?”

  “You think I slept with you to keep you under my control?” If he hadn’t been angry before, he was now. He’d never met anyone like Shaye. He’d never been attracted to anyone in the way he was attracted to her. No, she wasn’t his usual type. Whatever was going on was potent and damn confusing.

  But he knew one thing and he knew it well. “Sleeping with you had nothing to do with Timmy.”

  As the wind rushed over canyons, bent the brim on Shaye’s hat and whistled through the tree line, time seemed to stand still.

  Finally she replied, “I wish I could believe that.”

  Her attitude and her doubts were a problem he couldn’t solve on his own. He was sure of that now and it added to his anger—at himself, at her, at the whole situation. “Nothing I say is going to affect what you think.”

  When she didn’t deny that, he stepped away from her and turned toward camp. They were back at square one and damned if he knew how to proceed now.

  Chapter Twelve

  On Saturday night, Flutes and Drums was alive with gallery shoppers, Native American flute music and small groups speaking intimately about Dylan’s photographs. Most of the space had been transformed into a showcase for his work. As Shaye studied one picture after the next, she was struck by color, design and a style that set Dylan Malloy apart. The most dramatic works were those taken in the Serengetti and Antarctica…but then she spotted a few of the wild mustangs that shouted freedom and those were just as captivating. When she finally stood in front of Julia’s display, tears came to her eyes. The shots of his sister were magnificent. They captured her spirit, her sparkling eyes, her love for life.

  “What do you think?”

  The deep voice was close to her shoulder. It resonated through her, shaking her up and exciting her. Their drive home from the mountains had been tense, though Dylan had mentioned he’d be working at the gallery this week, helping Lily sort and hang the pictures for the show. He’d visited Timmy three evenings and had bathed him without Shaye’s help. They’d exchanged polite conversation, but Dylan hadn’t asked if she was coming tonight. She hadn’t been sure she should.

  But she had, and here they were.

  Although sometimes she wasn’t certain of Dylan’s motives, she was sure of one thing. “You knew your sister, and it shows.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “I like to think I did. I hope she knows how proud I am of her and the life she made.”

  “She knows.”

  There was a sign near the disp
lay of Julia’s pictures that told gallery-goers the portraits were unavailable for purchase.

  “Have you seen everything?” he asked, studying her carefully.

  “Not that corner over there.” She pointed to an area that was the most secluded in the gallery.

  “I’ll walk you over.”

  As they crossed the room, Shaye relived the night they’d spent in the camper as well as the first time they’d made love. Was she altogether wrong that he wanted to use her? Had her dad’s lack of attention and taking her for granted set up a distrust of men? Chad’s departure from her life and the way it happened had just cemented the idea that she was better off on her own.

  Walking beside Dylan, remembering being held by him, she wanted to believe she didn’t have to be alone. Not in raising Timmy and not living her life. Even if Dylan’s attentions weren’t fueled by the desire to control her and manipulate her, was he the type of man to stay? His sister had said he wasn’t, and Julia had believed he’d never want to be tied down.

  They were a few feet away from the display when Shaye recognized the object of Dylan’s photographic skill—Timmy.

  Again there was a small sign stating the works in this display couldn’t be purchased. As she studied the photographs, she could read the feeling behind them just as she could in Julia’s portraits. Dylan loved his nephew, that was so easy to see. Most of the shots were close-ups of a happy baby, a frowning baby, a delighted baby. There was one in particular that she liked—Timmy’s christening hat tilted sideways on his head. He had one finger shoved into his mouth and he looked like a mischievous little angel.

  “How do you do it?” she asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Manage to capture the perfect moment.”

  “I don’t always do that,” he replied. “Especially not with you. If I did, you wouldn’t think I was going to run off with Timmy and leave you behind.”

  She never expected him to bring this up here. “We can’t talk now.”

  “No, we can’t,” Dylan agreed, as a tall thin man in a perfectly cut suit crossed to Dylan and put his hand on his shoulder. Up close, she could see lines on his face she hadn’t noticed from farther away. He was much older than his fit frame and his energetic gait indicated.