“Is she around?” the woman asked, her smile turning puzzled at Belinda’s lack of response.
An applicant, Belinda thought. A possible housekeeper. Someone to take over so Belinda could go home and resume her old life.
It’s what you wanted, she reminded herself, but her own voice inside her head sounded hollow.
“Miss?”
Belinda blinked to clear her mind. “I’m sorry. I’m Belinda. Please, come in.”
It took less than five minutes for Belinda to know that Donna Harris was the perfect woman to keep Ace’s house and care for his sons. Belinda wanted to hate her for that, but it was impossible. The woman was completely, utterly likeable.
“How long were you in the restaurant business?” Belinda asked. They were sipping coffee at the kitchen table, instantly at ease with each other.
“That depends on what you mean by ‘in the business,’” Donna said with a smile. She paused and blew on her coffee. “When I was twelve—”
Belinda jerked and sloshed her coffee. “You worked in a restaurant at twelve?”
The woman laughed. “No, although that would have been easier than what I did do.”
Belinda gave her a sheepish smile. “I’m told I do okay when I keep my mouth shut. Please, go on.”
Donna told her of being twelve when her mother died, leaving her with four younger brothers and a distraught, angry father to care for—angry because his wife died and left him to cope without her.
“You raised four brothers?”
“More or less. I think they did most of it on their own, despite my so-called help. But I cooked and cleaned and took care of the house, the laundry, all those traditional female chores, until gradually each boy got old enough to take on his share.”
“Ah, I like the sound of that.”
Donna Harris smiled. “Somehow I thought you would appreciate boys doing household chores.”
“Appreciate it? I relish it. We’re still working on making our own beds around here.”
“The ad said the boys are young?”
“Jason is six, Clay—Clayton—is four and Grant is two.”
Donna let out a low whistle. “And you’re single, no children of your own, and you’re trying to cope with all of this?”
“Trying being the operative word, but we’re managing.” Actually, Belinda realized, they were managing quite well, even if she couldn’t see herself doing all the work she’d been doing lately every day for the rest of her life.
Rest of her life? Whoa! Where had that thought come from?
Wherever, it could just go right back. She had no business thinking along those lines. One night of mad, passionate lovemaking did not a lifetime make. Nor did she want it to. She was only here until Ace found a new housekeeper.
Now, seated across the table was a woman who had experience with children, with all the cooking and cleaning and everything else that went with keeping a house, and she had experience managing employees. The latter might come in handy indeed in managing the men on this ranch. The woman was, in a word, perfect. All she lacked, as far as Belinda could see, was Ace’s approval.
If Ace and the boys liked Donna Harris—and they would, Belinda knew they would—Belinda’s time on the Flying Ace would come to an abrupt end. Which was exactly what she’d been wanting since the day she drove up that gravel road and left pavement and civilization behind. Now she would be able to pack up her car and head home, get back to the real world, back to her life.
Oh, God.
Down at the corral, Ace spotted the gray sedan parked beside the house. He didn’t recognize the car. Nor the woman, when she and Belinda stepped out of the house together a moment later. “Wonder who that is?” he asked no one in particular.
“Applicant,” Trey answered from behind him.
Ace turned to face his younger brother. “Applicant for what?”
Trey rolled his eyes. “For the job you’ve been trying to fill for weeks. Housekeeper.”
Trey said something else after that, but Ace didn’t hear him. The word housekeeper buzzed around inside his head like an angry wasp looking for a way out of a closed jar.
“I took the call this morning. She sounded perfect to me. Told her to come on out and talk to Belinda.”
That part of Ace that had recently started coming back to life, or maybe coming to life for the first time, took the blow and stumbled.
Housekeeper.
Dammit. Why now? Why today? He wasn’t ready.
He knew he couldn’t postpone hiring someone, if it was the right someone. But the minute he did, Belinda would leave. That was the plan from the beginning. She would stay until he found a new housekeeper.
Then she would leave.
The thought of her leaving dried out his mouth and dampened his palms inside his gloves. It made his stomach clench and his heart pound in an uneven rhythm. It opened a hole in his gut big enough to get lost in. And suddenly Ace knew that if Belinda left, that was exactly what would happen to him—he would be lost. He would lose himself.
She couldn’t leave. He wouldn’t let her. Couldn’t. She was too important to him. She was...God, she was everything.
But how was he going to convince her to stay?
Belinda watched Donna Harris drive away. Squaring her shoulders, she turned toward the barn, determined to find Ace right that minute and tell him what she’d done. If he didn’t like it, that was just too bad.
She didn’t have far to go. The man himself was advancing on her like a man with a purpose. His eyes were narrowed, his jaw clenched, his hands fisted at his sides.
So, he liked the way she spoke her mind and went toe-to-toe with him, did he? Well, the man was about to get exactly what he asked for.
He stopped ten feet away from her, on the dirt drive. His gloved fists flexed. So did his jaw.
Belinda’s heart started pounding. He was already angry and she hadn’t even spoken yet.
“Did you hire her?”
Belinda cleared her throat and hoped he didn’t notice that her knees were shaking. “No.”
His head gave a slight jerk backward, as if he’d taken a punch to the chin. “You didn’t?”
“No.”
“I heard she was perfect for the job.”
Belinda’s nerves stretched taut. God, had she made a mistake? Had she assumed too much? “She is.”
Ace braced his fists on his hips. “And you didn’t hire her?”
“I did not,” she forced through her tight throat. To hell with assuming too much.
“Why?”
She took a deep breath and held it. “Because I’m not ready to leave.”
Slowly Ace lowered his hands to his sides and unclenched his fists. I’m not ready to leave. His heartbeat evened out, then raced. “You’re not?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“Because you and I have unfinished business.”
Relief weakened Ace’s knees. Too close. He’d come too close to losing her. “You’re damn right we do.” In three strides he’d yanked off his thick, leather work gloves and had her hauled against his chest, her feet dangling in the air. Four more, and they were inside the house, their mouths locked on each other’s. He moved forward until her back was braced against the wall. With lips and teeth and tongue, with greedy hands, with his whole body, his whole being, he quite simply, completely, devoured her.
She devoured him right back.
Hot, sharp need exploded between them. It roared through his blood. He couldn’t get enough of her, would never get enough of her, her taste, the feel of her arms around his neck.
He filled his hands with her, with every part of her he could reach, finally settling his palms against her backside and pulling her closer, harder against his hardness.
One of them moaned. Maybe both.
He edged his mouth from hers and worked his way along her jaw to her ear.
Belinda groaned in sheer pleasure.
Pleasure. What a
mild word for such riotous feelings. There was a gnawing hunger deep inside her, a ravenous greed for more, for all, for everything he had to give. Her mind clouded with it, her body burned.
Voices, childish and filled with laughter, rang out in the backyard.
Belinda gasped. “The boys.”
With an agonized groan, Ace pulled his mouth away. He pressed her head to his chest and held her tight, burying his lips against her hair. “I hear them.”
Belinda shuddered against him, trying to draw a decent breath to clear her head.
Ace felt her shudder and held her tighter. He wanted to absorb her, claim her, keep her. Wanted to bury himself in her and never come out. The only thing stopping him was the sound of his sons outside.
“You were right,” he managed as he steadied himself. “Unfinished business.” He eased away and looked into her deep gray eyes and knew their business would never be finished. Not if he had anything to say about it. “Tonight,” he told her.
Belinda read determination in his face, and something else she couldn’t identify but that sent a thrill racing up her spine. “Tonight?”
Chapter Nine
For Belinda the rest of the day by turns flew and dragged. She couldn’t beheve she’d sent Donna Harris back to town with a lame story about the need for a housekeeper being postponed.
Hedged her bets there. She hadn’t told the woman the job was filled, only that they weren’t prepared to hire anyone quite as soon as they’d thought.
“God, what is wrong with me?” Belinda whispered to herself.
But the answer was simple. Ace. That’s what was wrong with her. He’d gotten into her blood. She wasn’t ready to walk away yet. And that terrified her.
But behind the fear something bright and shining beckoned her. Something powerful and frightening, the lure of which she couldn’t resist.
That, too, was Ace. Ace, his sons, the ranch.
She wasn’t ready to let go of any of them.
So she would just hang around awhile and see what happened. Ace had demonstrated quite graphically that afternoon that he wasn’t ready for her to leave. So she would stay. For now. For a while.
Never had she felt the things Ace made her feel. Never had she wanted to become a part of another person. If she let herself think about it too much, she was afraid she might panic. But not thinking about it was impossible.
“How can I avoid thinking about a man when I’m folding his underwear?”
“Now those are words to warm a man’s heart.”
Standing at the kitchen table with clean laundry piled around her, Belinda looked up and saw Ace in the doorway to the mudroom. Her smiled widened.
He started toward her, then stopped. “Where are the boys?”
Her lips twitched. “They’re on the front porch, staying clean. Or so the plan goes.”
Ace took a deep breath, then let it out. “Just as well. I’m filthy. I’m going up for a shower.”
Belinda looked him up and down, saw the dirt, the dried sweat, and a few other stains she’d just as soon not contemplate. “Sounds like a good idea.”
His smile turned lethal. “Wanna join me?”
Belinda closed her eyes. The sudden picture of the two of them, wet and naked, warm water pounding down on them, made her breath catch and turned her knees to rubber. Sleek, slick flesh gliding over sleek, slick flesh. Steam rising.
“Slim?”
The nickname jarred her from the fantasy and reminded her that she still had msecurities to deal with. And supper. “You go ahead. By the time you finish, the men will be here expecting food instead of laundry on the table.”
“We’re doomed.”
“It looks that way.”
“Be damned,” he swore. “There’s always tonight.”
“Yes.” A shiver of pure anticipation raised gooseflesh on her arms. “Tonight.”
“If I live that long. I want you.”
Belinda looked down. “The, ah...” She, who prided herself on always saying what she thought, had to stop and clear her throat to get the words out past the ball of insecurity that threatened to close her throat. She raised her eyes. “The feeling is mutual.”
Heat sparked in Ace’s vivid blue eyes. “Hold that thought, lady.”
She watched him disappear down the hall to the living room, heard him take the stairs two and a time. Hold that thought. She shook her head. As if she could hold any thought but him.
“So how was the applicant?” Trey asked over supper.
Jack frowned over his pork chop. “Applicant?”
“For housekeeper,” Trey explained. “I took the call this morning while the three of you were out joyriding- A woman named Harris. Sounded good. Told her to come on out and talk to Belinda.”
Belinda concentrated on cutting up Grant’s pork chop, while Ace did the same for Clay.
“What’s a ap’icant?” Jason asked, his meat already cut and disappearing as fast as he could chew.
When neither Ace nor Belinda answered him, Trey did.
“An applicant is somebody asking for a job.”
“Oh.” With his mouth full Jason asked, “What job?”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Belinda said automatically.
“Yes, Mother,” Trey said, with his mouth full.
“Jerk,” Belinda muttered under her breath.
“And Aunt Binda and Daddy Ace are both evading the question,” Trey said. “How was she?” He looked at Ace.
Ace shrugged. “I didn’t meet her.”
“She was fine.” Belinda said.
“Jeez,” Trey complained. “Getting anything out of you is like pulling hens’ teeth.”
Clay frowned. “Do hens have teeth?”
“No, silly,” Jason claimed. “It’s just a ’spres-sion.”
“Oh. Like ‘cold as a well-digger’s—’”
“Yes,” Belinda said hurriedly to forestall the rest of the saying. “But you shouldn’t be saying things like that.” She gave all the men at the table a dark look. Maybe Ace was right. These boys did need a woman around to help soften the edges some.
“Are you gonna answer or not?” Trey prodded Belinda with a glint in his eye.
Irritation, and uncertainty over the wisdom of her decision that afternoon, tightened her voice. “What, precisely, is your question?”
“Did you hire Mrs. Harris?”
“I did not.”
“Why the he—heck not?”
Belinda widened her eyes in mock innocence. “It’s not up to me to hire Ace’s housekeeper. I’m not the one who has to live with her.”
Trey looked at Jack. “What do you think?”
“I think,” Jack said, “that nobody wants to tell you what you want to know.”
“Yeah, that’s what I think, too. What I’m wondering,” Trey mused, “is why.”
“Oh, for crying out loud.” Belinda finished cutting Grant’s meat. “You don’t expect Ace to hire the first applicant—what is it you’d say?—right out of the chute?”
“After all this time,” Trey said, “it looks like she might be the only applicant he’s going to get. Seems to me—”
“Seems to me,” Ace finally said quietly, breaking his silence without looking up from his plate, “that everybody would be better off minding their own business instead of worrying about mine.”
“Well, pardon me,” Trey exclaimed. “Until Belinda got here we all did double duty around this place because so much of your time had to be spent at the house.”
“That was weeks ago,” Ace said tightly, “and I appreciate all the extra work everybody took on to help me out.” Damn his little brother, Ace thought grimly. If Trey kept pushing, no telling how Belinda might react. The last thing Ace wanted was for her to change her mind and decide he needed to hire the Harris woman so Belinda could go home and get away from his buttinksy brothers. First Jack this morning, now Trey was sticking his nose in.
“You’re not having to take up the slac
k for me now, haven’t had to in the past few weeks. That’s all you need to worry about, bro.”
Trey raised his brow at Jack. “I guess that means Belinda is staying.”
“Yippee!” Jason crowed. “Aunt Binda’s staying!”
“Now hold on,” Belinda said quickly. “I don’t want anybody getting the wrong idea—”
“Let it be,” Ace told her, his voice low and quiet beneath Clay’s and Grant’s echoes. “Everybody’s already got ideas. I’ve got a few of my own, and they don’t include inviting the first stranger that comes along to move into my house and take charge of my sons.”
Trey obviously didn’t know when tc stop. “Is that so?”
None of the men at the table. Belinda noticed, made any pretense of not paying attention to what was going on. It was a conspiracy, she decided, between Jack and Trey. All evidence pointed to the fact that the two brothers thought Belinda should stay. Jack had been so blunt as to give her and Ace a hard shove toward each other that very morning.
Matchmakers, she decided, were a pain in the butt.
“That’s so,” came Ace’s laconic reply.
“Then maybe,” Trey said with obvious relish, “you oughta take that ad out of the paper.”
“Maybe,” Ace said cooly, “you oughta go soak your head. How’s the hay looking?”
In the blink of an eye, Trey turned from razzing to business. “It looks good. That rain we had right before we took the cattle up to high pasture really gave it a boost. You hear any more from the oil company?”
“Not since I told them you’d protect your crops with your shotgun if they tried to drill there.”
“Damn right I would.”
It was amazing, Belinda thought, that little Grant could remain completely silent until a swear word caught his ears.
“Damn right,” he parroted.
“Grant,” she said. “You know you’re not supposed to swear.”
“Unca Tway did.”
Clay took up the cause. “Daddy does.”
Belinda ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek and gave both men a hard look while the other men decided it was time to study their plates before they broke out laughing.
“I’ll tell you what,” she offered the boys. “When you’re as tall as your daddy, you can swear all you want, and I won’t say a word.”
Their Other Mother Page 15