by Debra Holt
Quiet greeted her. Out of habit, she walked by the old juke box in the corner and flipped the switch on the back of it. She punched in the usual numbers and then headed toward the small office just off the bar. A Patsy Cline golden oldie hit filled the hall. Calla preferred the music she heard so much of growing up around the hall…Patsy, Reba, Willie, George, Miranda, J.D. and a few others. People could have the new artists and she would be content with the legends that never faded.
Bypassing the office, she went instead through the kitchen and out onto the loading dock. The setting sun was still casting good light over the area and she was able to see the work had been completed on the ramp. It still rankled her that the mayor thought she would be so naïve as to not know the ‘good old boy’ system had won out again. He had sought to placate her with reconstructing the offending four inches himself. The sound of a vehicle moving slowly up the road broke into her thoughts. A familiar black pickup came to a halt in the loading dock area.
Just great. The man seemed to have a penchant for turning up at the oddest or most inopportune times. Why had she decided to come outside at this moment? He never would have known she was there. Just get it over. Thank him and then there should be no further need to have anything to do with him.
The casual look of earlier was gone. Ty Conners looked dressed for an evening out… crisp slacks, dark brown jacket, white shirt, polished chocolate boots. He left the cream Stetson on the dashboard of the truck. He stepped out of the vehicle, one hand running absently over the side of his thick hair. Calla drew her eyes away with some effort.
“Nice evening.”
“Yes, it is. What brings you out this way?” Be nice, Calla.
“Had a budget meeting that ran late. I had wanted to get by here earlier and check on the ramp. It looks pretty good if I say so myself.” He stood at the bottom of the ramp looking up at her with that half smile/half grin that made a person want to naturally respond. Most people that is. Calla remained stoic.
“Yes, you and Chief Powers did a nice job. Thank you.”
“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Calla looked at the man, his words not making sense at first.
“I have the distinct impression that you have a problem when someone does something nice for you… or is it just when a man does something for you?”
That did it. “You really don’t know what you’re talking about and I don’t care for your armchair psychology. I said that I appreciate what you did.”
“You know the neighborly thing to do when a neighbor drops by is to at least offer them something cold to drink on such a warm evening.”
Seriously? “The bar is closed in the evenings until the re-opening.”
“But you’re the boss.”
“You aren’t going away until I invite you in for something cold to drink… are you?” No use beating around the bush.
“Thought you’d never ask. Don’t mind if I do.” He took the steps in two strides before she could withdraw the forced invite.
Reaching in front of her, he held the door for her to pass through with a pleased smile lighting his face. Much too good-looking for his own good… or her peace of mind. Make this fast. She led the way into the bar area where the juke box was still playing the country music. Suddenly, the cavernous building didn’t seem so large after all. Calla’s nerves were acutely attuned to every movement, every nuance of the man watching her with that steady green-eyed gaze. What was the deal with that? She had stared down some of the toughest litigators in the state with nary a flinch, but this cowboy mayor was a different story.
“I recall that you like your beer in a bottle, not from the tap. What would you like?”
“Correct… the tap didn’t work so well for us last time. I’m not choosy. Whatever you’re having is fine with me.”
She turned, choosing to ignore his remark about the beer incident from their first meeting. Taking two bottles from the cooler, she opened the beer and set it in front of him. Then she opened hers.
“Soda for you? You don’t care for beer?” He asked the question before taking a sip of his drink.
“Not particularly. I never could get past the smell of it. Not your usual bar owner I know.” She was glad to have the bottle to give her hands something to do and steady the nerves that would not behave.
“You do have good taste in music though. I like the selection.”
“Thanks. They’re still the best for what ails you, as my dad used to say.”
A few seconds of silence seemed to grow. Ty pushed his bottle back on the bar as though he had made up his mind about something. He turned to her and held out his palm. She stared at it.
“It won’t bite,” he said, prompting her. “It’s blasphemy to stand here while George Strait is playing and let a great dance floor go to waste. Share a waltz with me?”
No way. Danger. That’s what flashed through her mind, but no words came out of her mouth. Instead, her palm somehow found its way into his. The moment his fingers closed around hers, she knew she had made a huge mistake. Really huge. But there was no reclaiming her hand. He was already leading them toward the empty dance floor. Naturally, the lighting was dim, and naturally the song had to be one of those slow, let’s-get-to-know-each-other tunes where bodies were meant to be close and a head naturally gravitated toward a broad shoulder. The palm and splayed fingers of his hand slid around her waist and rested at the center of her lower back, its warmth permeating through the thin material of her blouse. Each fingertip applied pressure ever so slightly yet intentionally to bring her body into step with his. Calla fought to maintain some semblance of reasonable thought. His cheek was at the side of her forehead and a warm breath tickled the skin there when he spoke.
“Relax, Calla Rose. I’ve got you. Just enjoy the music and the moment. Empty all those thoughts about business and the dance hall and let your mind rest. You’ve earned it.”
Darn he’s good. Too good. When she did allow herself to relax a bit, it was like opening a dam. And Miss Mollie’s words about dancing and lovemaking came back to her in a flash. Her body’s movements did indeed respond to his without any conscience thought on her part. Her head fit easily enough just below the top of his shoulder. It was uncanny how natural it was for her eyes to close and allow her other senses to take control. The smell of him, his cologne; the soft feel of the jacket’s material beneath her cheek, the rhythm of heartbeats and the beat of the music. The minutes stretched, and all sense of time and place faded. Around the dance floor they moved, steps gliding in unison.
The song ended, but their steps continued following music heard only by their bodies. How long they could have danced in that manner she wouldn’t venture to guess, but their steps did slow and then stopped. It took a second or two for it to register in a mind that had completely turned itself over to the moment. Slowly, she lifted her head and her eyes met the heat of desire that glowed emerald fire and touched and caressed across her skin until an answering flame ignited within her core and then she tasted him. His lips were firm and sure and tasted of faint mint and lingering tartness of the beer. They tempted and tested hers and she responded with her own exploration that stirred reactions within her body that had been dormant for too long.
Both palms slid around her waist and drew her closer, while her arms slid around and over broad shoulders to allow her fingers to clasp behind his neck, her thumbs losing themselves in the soft, thick hair at his collar. Their bodies began a soft swaying motion as the music changed to another love song, but their mouths continued their own exploration of possibilities. Calla was transported to another time, removed from the present and the past and with exciting glimpses of the future in an all-encompassing moment.
His lips pressed against hers, a faint nibble on her bottom lip, a gentle tug and the tip of his tongue met hers in a dance of their own. Her lower body responded with a moist warmth that brought a delicious ache from deep within her. She pushed into his lean strength and found he
was more than aware and responding with his own needs.
Then the music stopped. The silence was deafening and jarred into reality that shattered the moment like a glass dropping on concrete. Calla stepped out of arms that suddenly weren’t holding her as if they couldn’t bear to part with her. Both of them came hurtling down to earth with a resounding thud. She managed to gather her wits faster than Ty did.
“That should not have happened. Whatever it was. I trust it won’t again.” Her voice had a slight shake to it, but hopefully, not too noticeable.
His breathing was not back to its normal rate at the moment, but it was his eyes that captured her attention. There was no gleam in them. In fact, she couldn’t read what was there… they had shuttered his feelings away from her for the first time since they met. She wished she could have seen them. She had no roadmap for where they were in that moment.
“I can’t say I regret it. Sorry that you seem to do so. But have no worries. I don’t force myself on ladies and I won’t start now. I’d just like to meet the guy who did such a number on you.”
“How did you…why do you say such a thing?”
“Because whoever he was, he deserves to be taught a lesson on the proper way to treat a lady like you.”
His words totally caught her off guard. Ty Conners was nothing like any man she had ever met before. She wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. In fact, thanks to his ability to keep her off kilter, she wasn’t sure of much when he was around. But he had just turned her structured life upside down with a waltz and a kiss.
“What did you just do?” Ty spoke those words to no one but himself. He was alone in the cab of his pickup, headed toward his home. He hadn’t planned to stop at The Yellow Rose. But somehow his truck had gravitated into the alley and then Calla Rose had been standing on the dock at that exact moment. He couldn’t very well slam on the brakes and back up. Maybe he should have.
“And instead of looking at the ramp and then getting back in the truck and getting out of there, what did you do? You had to push your luck with something to drink.” Where had that idea come from? He had felt the need to spend more time in her presence, even though there was a definite chill in the air thanks to those silver eyes that dared him to invade her space. He should have backed off.
For someone who was usually careful and prided himself on being respectful and professional in his dealings with fellow constituents, he had seen that tossed out the door when Calla Rose had entered his life. From the moment he had turned and looked into that gaze over the bar almost a week ago, the woman had kept him off-balance and claimed more of his time and attention than anyone or anything else.
But he didn’t stop with just having a cold drink. He had to ask her to dance. And then it just seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss her. And now he was in a free fall over a cliff and he had no idea where the bottom might be. Instead of easing the nagging ache in his mid-section, the kiss had sent a blaze throughout the rest of his body that he had no idea how to combat. There was just something about the woman that made him want to smile at the sight of her and could tie him up in knots like some schoolboy.
There was also a little voice in his brain that kept sending out a caution signal. She wasn’t from McKenna Springs… not in the true sense of someone who had been born and never left the city limits. She had lived the last few years in the big city. That was a far cry from where she was at now. Who was to say that she intended to stick it out on a permanent basis? She could chuck it all tomorrow and decide that an aging dance hall wasn’t what she thought it would be and back she’d go to some high-powered law firm.
That kept him in check. He needed to proceed with caution in mind. But given how she responded in kind to the kiss they shared, he found that a reason to be hopeful. He smiled. Calla Rose just might find she belongs in the country and he would be happy to help her reach that conclusion. He would certainly do his best.
“That pillow’s not fighting back… you realize that, right?” The dry observation came from Jaz who stood in the doorway watching Calla’s futile attempts to rearrange a comfortable position in her bed before turning off the lamp. After the kiss with Ty in the dance hall, he had left, and she had retreated to the house, to her room, avoiding her two sisters… almost.
Calla gave the square of goose down one more jab and then settled her head on the middle of it. “Just as well, I would win any way.”
“I’m heading back to the city first thing in the morning, so I’ll call you later in the week. Sweet dreams and keep an eye on that new construction crew of yours.” Jaz closed the door quick enough before that pillow could be launched in her direction.
New construction crew, indeed! Calla reached over and switched off the lamp, then hit the pillow one last time for good measure. Pulling the sheet over her shoulder, she rolled onto her side; trying to will sleep to come quickly and all other thoughts… particularly of being held in the strong arms of a cowboy who shook her to her very core with heart-stopping kisses…to be banished from her mind. But sleep wasn’t in a cooperating mood.
Her brain wouldn’t shut down. It hopscotched from the remembered warmth and feelings that had erupted inside her at the moment Ty Conners’ lips touched hers, to his words about the man who had treated her wrong. And that brought back the memories she had fought to leave behind her. Each time they tried to surface since leaving San Antonio, she had pushed them back into the darkness. Maybe that’s why they wouldn’t stay there… they hadn’t been dealt with once and for all. Calla rolled onto her back, a long breath leaving her chest. She closed her eyes and gave up.
CHAPTER SIX
It had started a year before…
They climbed the front steps and paused. “Calla, your name will be up there on that door one day in the not too distant future.” The man smiled at her in that way he had of making her feel special and desired. Barclay Kirkwood, II, also known behind his back as Junior, was a partner in the law firm of Kirkwood, Coleridge, Garza, and Mosby. His father, Kirkwood, the senior, had begun the firm.
The building was a three-story brownstone built back in the 1930’s and boasted a historical placard on its front gate. It faced one of the busiest streets in downtown San Antonio, Texas, and its back entrance was on the tree-lined banks of the Paseo Del Rio… the famous River Walk. In fact, Calla’s office window on the second floor had a perfect view of the river, even though she didn’t have much time to sit and enjoy it. She was too often buried with her nose in a stack of legal briefs or down the street facing a jury in the courthouse. Often the first one in the building in the mornings, she burned the midnight oil more than a few days in the week on a regular basis.
That’s how she had finally gotten to know Barclay, almost five years after she had begun at the firm. Up to that point, he had been on another level and travelled a good deal to serve clients outside the state and overseas. When he began spending more time in the home office on cases with some of their rarified clients while being groomed to step into his father’s chair at the head of the firm, she found his gaze on her more often than not in the office, and he would pop into the back of the courtroom during her cases. Then came the day he had stopped into her office while she had been working late and with his charming smile and gentlemanly manners, he had ordered dinner for them and they had discussed her case and then the conversation had expanded.
She found his mind a wealth of legal knowledge and he beguiled her with amusing anecdotes about the judges and other notables in the city. That had set a pattern over the next few weeks of intimate dinners and long conversations. He was very good at drawing a person’s confidence out and making that person feel the center of his attention.
It was common knowledge around the office and the backrooms of the courthouse that he and his wife were separated and she lived in San Francisco. She liked spending money… lots of it. But she didn’t like Texas, and she didn’t like her husband. The day came when Barclay had invited Calla to join him on a
trip to Dallas, to depose one of the partners in a major oil and gas lawsuit. He had been amazing in his handling of the two partners who stood on opposite sides of the issue. At the close of the second day, she and Barclay had ended the day in his suite overlooking downtown Dallas.
“Thanks for being here to help me celebrate victory today,” he said with his polished smile, handing her the glass of champagne before joining her on the couch. It was the first time she had seen him without a tie and his suit jacket. He was his ‘relaxed’ self, shirt sleeves rolled up, couple of top buttons of his French-cut white shirt open. Reaching out with his other hand, he moved the gold, wire-rimmed glasses off his nose and placed them on the low table in front of them. He was a good ten years older than her thirty years, but still in trim shape…fighting shape he called it for going into the courtroom ‘ring’ on behalf of their well-heeled clients. “I see you as a good luck charm on this trip.”
“I doubt that,” she had replied, trying to exhibit a calm, woman-of-the-world attitude in his presence. “I believe you’ve said numerous times that luck is a concept for losers. Skill is the tool of the wise man.”
“That is just one of the many reasons why I like you so much… your brain and the fact you actually listen to what I say.”
“One reason? There are others?”
“Of course, there are. You also have beauty to match that brain. Surely, you’ve been told often enough that you are quite stunning. Although, you don’t flaunt that fact and you have no idea how refreshing that is in a woman. Calla Rose, you’re the total package and have beguiled me.”
Calla had felt flattered and taken back at the same time. He noted it.
“Come now, you must know I’m attracted to you. I haven’t wanted to say anything because I know you’re being considered for the junior partnership and I didn’t want to muddy the waters. But you’re just too powerful a force to ignore.” He took her glass from her fingers and sat it beside his on the low table.