He resented the invasion into their private time, as slight as it seemed. It was only a reminder that there was a world beyond the limestone pillars of his ranch, one in which Callie belonged...and he no longer did.
“Yes, you can tell John to make all the arrangements,” he heard her say. “I’ll drive home first, so he needs to make my flight reservations from Dallas.” She laughed again, then said, “Yes, Prudy, I realize you’re not my personal secretary.” She listened a moment, smiling, then said, “Thanks, you’re a doll.” She stretched to replace the receiver, then held out a hand to Judd.
Instead of going straight to her, he shrugged out of his jacket. If she noticed his hesitation, she didn’t show it.
With her hand still outstretched, she teased him with a smile. “Come here, you big lug, and give me a kiss.”
He tossed his jacket across a chair and ambled her way. By the time he reached the sofa, he’d managed to put a halter on his selfish thoughts. “Who’s John?”
“My agent.”
“What flight is he arranging?”
“My trip to Houston. He wants me there earlier than we’d originally planned for some interviews.”
Judd didn’t want to ask, but he couldn’t stop himself. “When do you leave?”
“I have to be in Houston on Friday, but I’ll need to leave here tomorrow so I can drive home and pick up a few things.”
Twenty-four hours, he thought, the muscles in his jaw tightening. Twenty-four hours and she’d be gone.
“Hey!” she said, tugging at his chin. “Why the long face?”
“Heck,” he said, struggling to keep his voice light. “I was just gettin’ used to you being under foot.”
Callie laughed, bussing him full on the lips. “You sound as if I’m going away forever. It’s just a trip. A business trip, and a short one.”
Judd knew it was just a trip, a short one, but he couldn’t stop the knot of fear that curled cold and hard in his gut. He knew that once she felt the excitement of the city and was surrounded by her friends and family, there was a possibility she might not want to come back. He knew this because he’d once felt the enticement of the city, the warmth of the spotlight and that heady sense of power that came with it. But he’d also experienced the other side of fame. The cold, bitter loneliness. The exposed feeling that came when your life was placed under a microscope for the entire world’s inspection. He never wanted to experience that level of vulnerability again.
“Sure,” he agreed, forcing a smile.
On sudden inspiration, she caught his hand in hers. “Come with me,” she said. “It would mean so much to have you there when the statue is unveiled.”
Judd’s blood ran cold at the very thought. “No,” he said as he rose, pulling his hand from hers. “I don’t make public appearances anymore.” He crossed the room, putting distance between them while he pulled a beer he didn’t want from the refrigerator behind the bar.
Surprised by his refusal, Callie stared at his back. “But it’s not a public appearance. Not for you, anyway.” She rolled to her feet and crossed to him. “It’s just a cocktail party and a brief presentation.” She slipped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his back. “I know it’ll be boring, but I promise we’ll stay only as long as required. Please say you’ll come with me. Please?”
The swell of her breasts, the accompanying heat penetrating his shirt, the scent of wildflowers swirling beneath his nose all worked their own seductive power, making the fact that he hadn’t made a public appearance in over a year dull in importance to his wish to please her, to be with her.
But then the memories came humming back. The crushing crowds, the blood-sucking reporters, the cameras flashing in his face, the damning headlines...the shame. He couldn’t face that. Not again. Not even for Callie.
Twenty-four hours. That’s all he had. He turned, catching her up in his arms. “I have a better idea,” he suggested before stealing her breath with a kiss. “Let’s make love.”
Callie laughed. “Now? It’s not even noon.”
“So?” He lifted her higher, centering his mouth over a breast and teasing her with his tongue through layers of fabric.
“Now that you mention it,” she whispered, intoxicated by the sensations flooding her, “a nooner sounds kind of nice.”
* * *
Sleepily, Callie reached for Judd but found only cool sheets. Sitting up, she looked around the room where afternoon sunshine dappled the walls. Then she heard guitar music coming from the far side of the house. She sank back against the headboard, catching her lower lip between her teeth and the sheet beneath her chin, the distance he’d placed between them weighing heavy on her heart.
Something was changing between them, and for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what or why. With each passing day, Judd grew quieter and more reserved. Sometimes she’d catch him watching her, his eyes filled with a sadness she couldn’t explain.
She’d tried to overlook his moodiness, but earlier, when they’d made love, she’d sensed a desperation in his lovemaking that had never been there before. An urgency, a clinging as if this were their last time together.
She let her mind drift back to the conversation they’d had when she invited him to go with her to Houston. His refusal had been quick and final. And when she’d tried to persuade him to reconsider, he’d skillfully changed the subject by seducing her.
Though he shared his home and his bed with her, he apparently didn’t want to share his life. She’d read enough about what happened to him during the trial to know that the accusations made against him had cut deeply, hacking away at his self-confidence and his pride. As a result, he’d obviously lost his ability to trust. Even her. And that hurt.
Plucking Judd’s shirt from a chair by the bed, she stuffed her arms through the sleeves and climbed from the bed, determined to prove to him that he could trust her, not only with his life, but with his heart. She buttoned two buttons as she followed the sound of the music down the hall and wove her way through the country kitchen. A pair of paneled doors, which led to a wing of the house he’d told her he never used, stood partially open.
She slipped through and found Judd at the end of a long hall in a combination office and music room. He was sitting on the bench of a baby grand, dressed in nothing but jeans. The top three buttons of his fly were open, revealing a triangular patch of dark hair that disappeared in the folds of denim. The waist of his guitar rested on his thigh and his head was tipped to the fingerboard, his ear cocked and listening while his fingers moved deftly over the frets. His lips moved in the whispered lyrics of a song.
When he saw her, he flattened a hand against the strings, silencing the instrument.
She crossed to him, slipping onto the piano bench behind him. “Please don’t stop, that’s beautiful,” she said.
“It’s just a song,” he said gruffly as he set the guitar aside.
That he wouldn’t share his music with her was just another indication to Callie of all he held back.
Judd twisted on the bench until his knees bumped hers and their gazes touched. He saw the hurt in her eyes and knew he’d put it there. To ease it, he forced a smile as he caught the collar of the shirt she wore in his fingertips. “Nice shirt.”
“I like it,” she said stiffly.
His fingers skimmed lower, but she refused to be distracted from her purpose in seeking him out. Catching his hand in hers, she forced him to look at her. “Judd. What’s wrong?”
He held the smile in place while he looked at her in puzzlement. “Nothing. Why?”
“I don’t know, but you seem—distant,” she said helplessly. “Have I done something or said something to anger you?”
He caught her face between his hands, his heart breaking at her distress. “No. I don’t think you could. I’m just moody, is all.” He brushed his lips over hers, then levered a finger beneath her chin, tipping her face up till their eyes met. “I’m sorry if I upset you. I didn�
�t mean to.”
She laid a hand over his. “You’re sure?”
He grinned. “Positive.”
Over his shoulder, she glimpsed a framed picture on the edge of the piano. She reached behind him and angled it for a better look. Her eyes widened and she lifted her gaze to his. “Dolly Parton?”
Judd glanced over his shoulder at the photo. “Yeah. That was taken at the Country Music Awards two years ago. We were presenters for Entertainer of the Year.”
“Wow!” She let her gaze travel farther to the wall opposite her, noticing the framed pictures, the awards, the gold and platinum records displayed there.
She stood and crossed to stand before the wall of memories. Pictured was a side of his life she couldn’t even imagine. Judd aligned with stars both new and old from the screen as well as the music world. Judd captured on the stage, his face contorted with emotion as he belted out a song.
She stared at the pictures of him, seeing the light in his eyes, the pure pleasure he got from entertaining, and wondered how he could have given it all up. “You love singing, don’t you?”
“I did.”
“You still do,” she corrected, her back still to him. “And you miss it. I hear it in your voice and I see it in your face when you sing.”
“You’re wrong. I don’t miss it.”
“No, you’re wrong, Judd,” she said, turning and pointing her finger at him. “That’s why you’re here right now playing when no one else is around to hear. You do it at the Blue Bell. You do it here. But you won’t share your music with anyone else. Not even me.”
That he’d hurt her was obvious, but it couldn’t be helped. Judd couldn’t give her what she wanted. They’d stripped him of everything. His career. His name. His pride. All he had left was his music, and he kept that strictly for himself.
“Oh, Judd,” she said, seeing the turmoil within him and knowing she’d been right. “You have a God-given talent. Don’t let what happened keep you from doing what you were meant to do...what you enjoy.”
“I’m doing exactly what I want,” he said defensively.
“Living in Guthrie and running a saloon?”
The flash of hurt in his eyes had her rushing to kneel at his feet. “I’m sorry, Judd. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I just want you to be happy, that’s all.”
Because he saw the truth of that in her eyes, he cupped the back of her head in his hand. “I’ve had my share of the spotlight, Callie. From Vegas to Nashville and every place in between. I’d be a liar if I told you I didn’t get a thrill every time I stepped onto a stage, because I did, and at times I do miss it. But I discovered that fame has two sides. That darker side is a place I never want to walk again. I’m content with my life here. For me, that’s enough.”
“But not for me,” she said, staring at him dully. “You won’t share it with me.”
He lowered his gaze and dropped his hands to curl them around his knees. His fingers dug into denim. “I didn’t say that.”
“But it’s true, isn’t it?”
Judd’s mouth curved in a frown. He cocked his head to look at her. “Guthrie’s a small town, Callie. You’re used to Dallas and your life there.”
“It’s not Guthrie you’re afraid of, Judd, not totally.”
She watched the war of emotions raging within him, but she wouldn’t back off. Not now when everything was at stake.
“Answer me, Judd. It’s not just Guthrie, is it?”
“This is my home, Callie, my refuge,” he said in a low voice. Though she could see how much the admission cost him, he continued. “Some say I’m hiding here, and maybe I am, but I would never ask you to do the same.” When she would have denied his words, he tightened his fingers. “I’m only going to say this once, so hear me out. I love you, Callie. Enough to let you come and go, and enough to never ask you to stay and live in the shadow of my past.”
He’d said he loved her for the first time, but the meaningfulness of the words were lost in the restrictions he placed along with them.
To argue was pointless, she could see that. Instead, she leaned into him, wedging herself in the V of his legs.
She touched her lips to his, withdrew slightly, then touched them again. Again and again she repeated the kiss, each time increasing the length and intensity, silently telling him that his past didn’t matter while she attempted to soothe his fears with her hands.
“Callie,” he whispered huskily. “I love you so much.”
And she loved him, but knew words would never be enough to convince him. She’d have to prove her love to him. Her hands found their way to the fly of his jeans and she unbuttoned the remaining two buttons. Easing her hands around his waist, she worked the jeans down his hips and legs. After tossing them aside, she slowly moved to stand before him.
With her gaze on him, she slipped his shirt from her shoulders and let it drop to pool at her feet. She stepped out of it, then moved closer, offering herself in the most basic of ways. “And I love you, Judd,” she murmured.
Hesitant at first, he reached for her breasts, taking them in his hands and gently drawing her to him. Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she straddled him while he closed his mouth hungrily over a breast.
His thighs burned hot against hers and the swell of his manhood curled hard and throbbing against her abdomen. She closed her eyes as arrows of desire shot through her to pierce that most secret part of her femininity. Wanting to please him as much as he always pleased her, she took him into her hand. A shudder quivered through him at her touch, then he relaxed on a groan of sheer pleasure.
She played her fingers up and down the swollen shaft, teasing him, wanting him. A bead of honey purled at its tip, and she took it on her fingertip and stroked it down, then up again, in a mindless game of seduction. With every touch, with every breath, showing him her love.
With his mouth closed around her breast, he caught her beneath her hips, lifting her, then slowly lowered her until she was impaled on the staff of desire she had created. On a strangled sob, she threw back her head, glorying in the feel of him buried deep within her. Then she moved against him, drawing him closer and closer to that point of highest joining.
His breath hissed through bared teeth as he arched against her. He cried out her name as he dug his fingers into her hips and spilled into her.
With her body pulsing against his, Callie melted against his chest. She held him against her, oblivious to the heat and stickiness of their joined skins as the tension gradually eased from him. “I love you, Judd,” she whispered. “Please say you’ll reconsider and go to Houston with me.” She waited, hoping to hear those same precious words repeated to her and with them his agreement to accompany her to Houston.
His breath continued to blow warm at her neck, but he remained silent.
He still didn’t trust her enough to give himself over to her completely.
Nine
His hands stuffed deep into his pockets, Judd stood in front of the plate-glass window of the Blue Bell, staring at the bleak sky overhead.
“You’re going to wear a hole in that glass if you’re not careful.”
Judd turned to find Hank watching him. Embarrassed, he shrugged and moved away from the front window. “Just daydreaming.”
“Never hurts a man to dream now and again.” Hank hefted to the bar a tray of dripping beer mugs fresh from the dishwasher. He picked one up and began to dry it. “Callie gone?”
“Yeah, she left this morning.”
“Guess it’s kind of quiet out at your place, huh?”
Judd angled a hip onto a barstool, one side of his mouth curved ruefully. “Like a tomb.”
Chuckling, Hank set the glass on the shelf and plucked another from the tray. “Amazing, isn’t it, how much noise a woman can make?” He stuffed the cloth into the mug and gave it a hard twist. “Always yappin’ and carryin’ on from the time they get up of a morning ‘til they go to bed at night. A man could go deaf trying to listen to it all.�
�
“How would you know?” Judd teased. “You’re a confirmed bachelor.”
Hank snorted. “And that’s why. Can’t stand the noise.”
Grinning, Judd picked a pretzel from the bowl and broke it in half. He leaned over and gave Baby the larger portion before popping the remaining piece into his mouth. At the dog’s soft whine, he glanced back down. Baby was looking up at him, his ears drooping, his eyes filled with a sadness that mirrored Judd’s own. Judd leaned down and scratched him behind the ears. “You miss her, too, don’t you, guy?” he murmured in understanding.
Hank juggled a mug to keep from dropping it. “Miss her? Callie? Hell, she hasn’t been gone more than half a day.”
“We still miss her, though, don’t we, boy?” Judd asked Baby. In reply, the dog whined low in his throat.
“Well, for heaven’s sake!” Hank huffed in exasperation. “If you’re that lovesick, you should have talked her into staying a while longer.”
Judd curled his hand affectionately around Baby’s ear, then let it drop as he straightened. “She had to go to the unveiling of that statue in Houston.”
“Then why didn’t you go with her?”
Judd shot him frown. “You know why.”
Hank put the mug on the bar and slung the damp cloth over his shoulder. He hitched one hip higher than the other and laid his forearms on the bar. “You know, when you were a youngun, you were meaner than sin. Your daddy was always having to get you out of one scrape or another while your mama stood by wringing her hands. Didn’t slow you down, though. You’d whip anybody who got in your way.” He shook his head sadly. “In all the time I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you walk away from a fight.”
“It’s not a matter of fighting,” Judd replied irritably.
“Isn’t it? Looks to me like they’ve got you pinned to the floor and you’re not doing a damn thing about it.”
* * *
Sequins in every color of the rainbow caught the chandelier’s light and danced its reflection around the walls. The rich, the famous and the wannabes gathered in the hotel’s ballroom to celebrate the opening of the hospital’s new wing. More comfortable in her studio than in a crowd, Callie stood in the bevy of well-wishers and elbow-rubbers, smiling, making small talk and wishing with all her heart Judd was with her. She needed his calming support.
Miss Lizzy's Legacy Page 14