The Backup Plan

by Sherryl Woods

  She sighed and regarded Marshall apologetically. “I’m sorry I came in here ready to blame everything on you.”

  He smiled. “Believe me, you haven’t said anything I didn’t say to myself last night after Tommy Lee told me what he intended to do. You and I had a lot of dreams for our kids, but in the end they’ve had to find the dreams they wanted and we’ve had to learn to let them.”

  “Do you think we failed them?”

  “Not if they find what they’re looking for,” he consoled her. “I want to believe they’ll both come out all right in the end.”

  She stood up and walked around his desk and slid into his lap. “I guess that leaves us to figure out what we want,” she said, her hand on his cheek.

  His grin was as mischievous as it had been when they’d first met. “I know what I want,” he said. “Tell me.”

  He shook his head. “Not till date night,” he said. “This isn’t the place. Besides, it’ll do you good to let the anticipation build a little.”

  “What are we doing?”

  “You’ll see.”

  She laughed. “You’re not even going to tell me that? How will I know how to dress?”

  “I’ll give you just enough notice,” he promised. “I don’t want you to waste a lot of time stewing over the right thing to wear. This is all about us learning to be impulsive again, okay?”

  Dorothy couldn’t recall the last time she’d thought of her husband and impulsiveness in the same sentence. She touched her lips to his. She was certainly ready, though, to give it a try. If their marriage was ever going to be more than an obligation again, they needed to put a spark back into it, the same kind of spark she’d seen in Tommy Lee’s eyes when he’d told her about his decision. For the first time since he’d made his stunning announcement, she let herself be truly happy for him.

  And gazing into Marshall’s eyes, she allowed herself to feel the first faint stirring of hope.

  Cord had ruined half a dozen pieces of wood meant for the detailed chair rail in the plantation dining room. He couldn’t seem to get Dinah off his mind. He was kicking himself for not insisting on going with her to see the psychologist, not into the room of course, just to the reception area, so she’d have some moral support. Sometimes she needed somebody to override this independent streak of hers, whether she realized it or not.

  And who knew if this guy Maggie had recommended was any good? Dinah could come out of the session a basket case, in no condition to get behind the wheel of a car. He should have been there for her, made sure she had a shoulder to cry on if she needed it.

  He looked at the six-foot length of pine he’d just run through the saw and muttered a colorful expletive. For an expert using a mistake-proof saw, he’d made a mess of things yet again.

  “Nice talk,” Dinah said, coming up behind him. She slipped an arm through his and glanced at the ruined wood. “Does my mother know you’re this sloppy?”

  “No, thank God.” He studied her. “Have you been crying? Your eyes are red.”

  She grinned. “Thanks for noticing. I thought I’d performed miracles with my makeup before driving out here.”

  “Did that shrink make you cry?” he inquired, fighting the desire to go pummel the man even though he knew perfectly well tears were probably inevitable if the shrink was doing his job right.

  To his astonishment, Dinah turned slightly and wrapped her arms around his waist. She wearily rested her head against his chest. “You going to beat him up, if he did?” she murmured.

  “Only if you want me to,” he said, feeling completely out of his depth. “Are you okay?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve done all the talking I can bear for one day.”

  “Then what can I do?” he asked in frustration.

  She looked up at him, tears pooling in her eyes again. “Take me home with you. I don’t want to be alone, Cordell.”

  He tossed aside his protective goggles at once. “Let’s go.”

  She pulled back and stared up at him. “You’ll walk right out of here, just like that?” she asked with surprise.

  “You need me, you’re the priority,” he said flatly.

  “You’re amazing. I expected a whole litany of excuses.”

  He grinned down at her. “Did you now? Was this a test? You gonna back out now that you’ve got my hopes all built for a lazy afternoon in my hammock?”

  She ran her hands up under his T-shirt. “Not a chance, especially if you’ll lose the shirt.”

  He stripped it over his head. “Done. Now what?” he asked, his lips twitching.

  She stood on tiptoe and whispered in his ear. Cord felt every drop of blood in his body pool directly in the lower part of his anatomy.

  “I’m accommodating, sugar, but this place is crawling with workmen. I don’t know about you, but I’m not much of an exhibitionist.”

  “You did a pretty darn good imitation of one over at the beach,” she reminded him with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “But I suppose I can wait till we get to your place.”

  He winked at her. “You ever get naked in a hammock?”

  “Not that I recall,” she said primly. “But I surely am looking forward to it.”

  “Me, too, sugar. Me, too.”

  Dinah had instinctively gone looking for Cord after her session with Dr. Blake. The fact that Cord had been willing to drop everything in the blink of an eye just be cause she’d asked meant more to her than he could ever understand.

  Every day it seemed she discovered one more example of just how rock-solid and dependable the onetime bad boy had become. Not that he’d turned into a saint. He was just far more complex and fascinating than she’d expected. Danger and reliability weren’t half as incompatible as she’d always thought they were.

  Right now, this afternoon, though, she was hoping for a little of Cord’s trademark wickedness.

  He’d barely pulled his truck to a stop in front of his place and come around to open her door, when she leaped into his arms, wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him until his breath was coming in ragged gasps.

  Eventually he pulled back and regarded her with vaguely dazed eyes. “You hungry, sugar?”

  “You have no idea,” she said, diving back in for another stomach-dipping, roller-coaster ride of a kiss.

  She put one hand on his chest so she could feel the thundering of his heart. This was it. This was life pumping through him, she rejoiced.

  She could feel the maddening heat and fullness of his arousal pressing against her. She wanted all of that heat inside her, coaxing her back to life, making her blood pump and her pulse race. She wanted the oblivion of mind-numbing sensation, sensation that rolled through her in waves, that made every nerve sing.

  “Love me, Cord. Please, love me.”

  He headed for his hammock and rolled into it, settling her astride him and meeting her gaze with a lazy, self-satisfied smile that she’d come to identify with him years ago when he’d driven her half crazy with a desire she’d never wanted to acknowledge. She’d fought the attraction, choosing Bobby, not just because he was reliable, but because he was safe. He would never consume her like this, never make her want like this. Apparently she’d known subconsciously that she would be able to leave Bobby while she wouldn’t be able to walk away so easily from his brother. Cord had given her the perfect excuse to hate him when he’d betrayed her by lying about her to his brother. She thought she understood now just why he’d done it. She also believed he’d never do anything to hurt her so badly again.

  She looked into Cord’s eyes and guessed that he’d seen all along the combustion that would happen if they ever got together. He’d stayed in the background and waited, risking the possibility that she might never come back, might never discover what they could be together.

  She ran her hands over Cord’s powerful chest, let her fingers tangle in the dark hair, felt again the jump of his pulse.
He’d deliberately linked his hands behind his head, leaving whatever was to happen up to her. He seemed to sense intuitively that she needed the control.

  Oddly, now that she had it, she was happy to give back, rather than take. She slowly, carefully slid open the zipper of his jeans and took him in her hands. That startled him.

  “Nice to know I can still surprise you,” she whispered as she ran her tongue over the tip of his arousal.

  “Darlin’, don’t you know you take my breath away just by walking into a room?” he asked, his voice husky, his breath hitching to emphasize the point. “This might just about kill me.”

  “We wouldn’t want that,” she teased, pulling away.

  “I’ll risk it,” he said fervently.

  Dinah leaned back down and claimed him, feeling his body jolt and set the hammock in motion. When she couldn’t stand it a moment longer, she slipped off her panties and lowered herself onto him, taking him inside and then waiting, letting the sweet tension build. Cord’s eyes were closed. His muscles tensed as he waited, ceding the control as if he knew how desperately she needed it.

  The hammock didn’t allow for the wild ride she’d in tended, so she settled for something lazy and slow, something that allowed her to savor each sensation as something separate and distinct before, at last, they blurred together into something that sent them both into a shuddering, magnificent release.

  When her pulse finally quieted, Cord stroked a hand over her backside, then lifted her and settled her next to him, her head resting on his shoulder.

  “You know what you’ve done, don’t you?” he said, his voice threaded with amusement. “What?”

  “You’ve taken a perfectly good hammock and ruined it for me,” he said, though he didn’t sound especially distraught about it.

  Dinah looked at him suspiciously. “Ruined it how?”

  “Up till today, I’ve always been able to come out here with a beer, lay back and let my mind wander, while I wait for a breeze to stir through these big old trees.”

  “You won’t be able to do that anymore?”

  “Not a chance. From today on, I’ll be thinking about this.” He grinned. “I’ve got to tell you, there is nothing restful about the images that are going to come to mind.”

  “Then I suppose you’ll have to call me whenever you intend to come out here, so we can do something about all those wild ideas I’ve planted in your head.” She met his gaze. “I like the thought of driving you a little crazy.”

  “You’re good at it, that’s for sure,” he admitted.

  She studied him seriously. “Do you mind?”

  “Mind what? You coming by to ravish me?”

  She grinned at his interpretation. “Yes, that.”

  “I may mind in fifty or sixty years,” he said, that lazy, smug look firmly in place. “I’ll let you know.”

  Dinah laughed. “You do that,” she said, but underneath the laughter she felt a tiny little shiver of panic at the implication in his words, the unspoken promise of an enduring love. That alarm told her as nothing else might have that she was a long way from being able to let herself risk loving someone again.

  18

  Long after Dinah had fallen asleep in his arms, Cord lay awake in bed thinking about the unmistakable flicker of fear in her eyes when he’d casually tossed out a comment suggesting they’d be together a few decades from now. He’d let it pass at the time, but it made him wonder just how she saw things between them.

  Throughout his adult life, he’d never been interested in much more than the occasional fling, but it was different with Dinah. There was no question that he was in love with her, probably had been all of his life. He’d fought it because of Bobby, ignored it because it didn’t make a lick of sense, but now that it seemed possible, he knew it was going to break his heart if she went off and left him.

  Which meant he had to figure out some way to make her want to stay. It wouldn’t be enough just to persuade her and he surely didn’t want her to do it because she had no other options, the way she’d been willing to settle for his brother. No, she had to want to stay in Charleston with him, because it was what was right for her. He wasn’t smug enough to think that mind-altering sex was going to do it.

  And there was also that nagging little matter of trust. If she discovered that he’d stood squarely between her and Bobby once again, she was going to be furious and whatever they were building now could blow right up in his face. He needed to figure out a way to keep her and his brother from ever finding out the role he’d played in keeping them separated.

  First things first, though. He had to get her to want to stay. He thought about what had taken her away from Charleston in the first place. Ambition, in a word. A career. He couldn’t offer her a war zone, but he could surely point her in the direction of a job.

  But did he dare? Especially now that she was seeing that shrink and struggling with whatever demons she’d brought home with her? No, he concluded reluctantly, now was not the time. She had to work through her problems first. Once she had, she might be receptive to a gentle nudge or two.

  He turned his head and gazed at her, still not quite believing that she was here with him. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair a tangle of curls, but she looked at peace for a change.

  Almost as if his thoughts had touched her, she stirred restlessly, moaning a little. Her hand, resting against his chest, clenched.

  “No,” she murmured, a tear leaking out and running down her cheek. “No!”

  Cord brushed away the tear. “Sssh!” he soothed. “Everything’s okay. You’re right here with me. You’re safe, Dinah. I’ll keep you safe.”

  His words must have reached her, because she sighed and snuggled closer. Her hand relaxed.

  “What happened to you?” he whispered, his heart aching.

  More important, what was it going to take to make her whole again?

  Dinah was starting to like Warren Blake more and more with each visit. He pushed, but only so far. He seemed to know instinctively when she was getting close to the breaking point. And no matter how well or how badly a session went, he regarded her with approval, never with disdain or disappointment. Oddly, that reaction from a virtual stranger reassured her. Perhaps no one else in her life, especially those who loved her, would be disappointed when they learned the truth about what had sent her fleeing from Afghanistan.

  “Are you married?” she asked Warren out of the blue as her third session in a week drew to a close on Friday.

  He gave her a chiding look. “I thought we’d agreed that I get to ask the questions.”

  “We’re off the clock now, doc. I’m on my way out.”

  His gaze narrowed then. “Are you asking for yourself? A lot of people tend to develop an attachment to their psychologist. It’s normal, since the things we’re dealing with are so intense.”

  It sounded very practiced, as if he’d had to deliver the same gentle rebuke a hundred times before. Dinah smiled. “I’m not asking for myself.”

  He looked thoroughly flustered by that. “Oh.”

  “I was thinking about Maggie,” she admitted. “But then you already know her, so I’d probably be wasting my time pushing you in her direction. I mean you’re both adults who are capable of getting together if you’re interested, right? You don’t need me interfering.”

  He laughed. “We don’t. In fact, knowing Maggie’s stubborn independence, I have to wonder if she would appreciate you meddling in her love life.”

  “Actually she doesn’t get a say,” Dinah said, turning aside the scolding. “She was happy enough to meddle in mine.”

  “I see.” He assumed his perfectly bland, shrink face again. “How do you feel about that?”

  Amused, Dinah tapped her watch. “Time’s up. Gotta run before you charge me for another hour.” She stood up and started for the door. She had her hand on the knob, when she realized he was studying her with a long, thoughtful look.

  “Actually I held the next hour ope
n, in case you wanted to keep going today,” he said quietly.

  She regarded him with surprise. “Why?”

  “Because we keep appointment right up to the real breakthrough and just when we get close, you go dashing out the door. I’m beginning to think you’ve got the timing down pat.”

  “In my business, timing is critical,” Dinah said, unable to keep the defensive note from her voice, because he was exactly right. “If a piece was slotted for three minutes, it had better be three minutes down to the second.”

  “I’m not talking about your business now,” he said coolly. “I think you know that. So, what’s it going to be, Dinah? Are you staying so we can make some real progress? Or are you going to run away to avoid the same thing?”

  She certainly wanted to run. There was something unrelenting in the psychologist’s eyes today, as if he’d tired of her evasions, not for his sake, but for hers. She really wasn’t sure she wanted to do this, not just today, but ever.

  She hesitated, debating with herself. Then her pride kicked in and she stepped back into the room. “I’ll stay.”

  “Good.” He waited until she finally sat back down before suggesting bluntly, “Tell me some more about Peter.”

  It was the first time he’d brought Peter’s name up on his own and hearing it casually mentioned startled her even though she’d known when she made the decision to stay that this was the conversation they were going to have.

  “He was one of the greatest cameramen I’ve ever known,” she said neutrally. “He’d won every major award.” She sounded like a biographer rather than his lover.

  “What was he like as a man?”

  That answer took longer, not because she couldn’t find the right adjectives to describe him, but because remembering his best traits made her unbearably sad. “Warm, irreverent, dependable.”