And in spite of the tension of the moment, Ace seemed to understand. He winked at her and motioned her to a nearby table. An audience of one.
Crystal prepared to do what she’d come to do. If only she knew what that was. For now she simply watched and waited as Ford and Ace met not quite twenty feet from her.
“Someone told me there was a man looking for me. A stranger. Since you’re the only stranger I see here, and you look as if you’re looking for someone, I’m assuming you’re the man everyone is talking about,” Ford said. He stood there, handsome as all the Carsons were, with the height he’d bequeathed to all his sons and a barely suppressed air of expectation. Due to a heart condition that had flared up again recently, he looked like an aging gunfighter, tired, wary, but a little excited at the danger and still able to command power and send fear racing through his opponents when he needed to.
“I guess maybe I am that man,” Ace said, moving forward, his steps sure and deliberate.
“Then I guess I’d like to know what you want.”
“Not much.” Ace gazed steadily at Ford. His stance was relaxed, even casual, but Crystal saw that his hands were bunched into fists. “I just came to pass on some news to you.”
“You’re not from around here.”
“No, about two hundred miles away. West. Hampsted.”
She thought she saw Ford drag in a breath. Surely Fiona or Flynt had warned him what was coming. If so, why didn’t he just say so? But then it occurred to her that this might not be a new experience for him. He might have gone through something like this before. A man like Ford, with his money and prestige, probably had people making claims on him all the time. False claims.
Crystal almost closed her eyes at that thought. Her heart felt as if it stopped much too long to keep her blood flowing. She looked straight at Ace and saw that he was studying her, not Ford, at that moment. She wondered what he was thinking, if he was questioning her the way she was questioning him.
But she wasn’t really questioning him. Anyone who saw the two men standing together could never deny that they were related. Ace wasn’t a false prophet. He smiled at her and gave her an encouraging nod as if to tell her that he was just sharing a beer with an old friend and would be right over to kiss her and take her home any minute now. “Not much longer, darlin’,” his eyes seemed to say.
“What’s the news you’ve brought me?” Ford asked, and his voice was slightly unsteady.
“Just that an old friend of yours passed away. You might not really remember her. Her name was Rebecca. Rebecca Barron originally. It was a long time ago that she knew you. She just asked me to stop by, so I said I would.”
He said this casually, as if he barely knew the woman in question, though it was clear to Crystal that the woman had been his mother.
Ford’s hands were bunched into fists now, but he didn’t respond to Ace’s suggestion that he might have either known or forgotten the woman. “Do you live in Hampsted?” he asked, instead.
“Sometimes. I’m not big on roots, though.”
For half a second, Crystal thought she saw fierce intent in Ace’s eyes, but then she blinked and decided she was wrong, because he was wearing that long, slow, I-don’t-give-a-damn-about-anything smile.
“I see. Are you…just passing through Mission Creek?”
“I am. But first I’m going to stay and see the sights and have a little fun.”
His tone implied that there would be drinking and brawling and women involved. Crystal tried not to dwell on that.
“You have a place to stay, son?” Ford’s voice dipped low, almost coming out as a choked whisper.
“I’m fine,” Ace said a bit too quickly. “I’ve rented rooms at the Overton Apartments.”
Crystal heard a soft gasp at her side and she looked up to see Cara standing beside her. “That’s a hell-hole,” Cara whispered, as if Crystal didn’t already know that. Everybody did. “Nola Warburn rents out rooms by the hour sometimes, and I don’t even want to think how seldom the sheets get changed.”
In the silence that had followed Ace’s statement, Cara’s whisper carried.
A smile played over Ace’s lips, and Crystal knew that he was as aware of Nola Warburn’s reputation as everyone else was.
“I can find you a better place,” Ford said.
“That’s very kind, but where I’m at is just fine. It suits me. I won’t be there long, anyway.”
“No one ever is,” Fiona said. Obviously the entire Carson crowd had arrived. Even Grace, Ford’s wife, was watching carefully from beside her children. She didn’t move forward. Of course. She was the woman that Ford had married. She probably hadn’t known about Ace’s mother.
Crystal gave Grace a worried look. Pretty and plump and blond, she was naturally pale, but today she was even paler than usual. Still, she was hanging in there. And she was looking at Ace with sad eyes.
Ace gave everyone a smile and a slight bow. “If you’ll excuse me, it’s late, and you have a party to see to,” he said. “And I’m a workingman. Got to get up early.”
A look of confusion passed over Ford’s features. “I thought you weren’t staying.”
“I’m not, but a man has to eat. I usually find work in most places I visit. In sales, usually. If any one of you needs a good luxury car, you be sure to stop over at Mission Creek Motors. I’d be happy to fit you out with the best that money can buy.
“Nice meeting all of you. Ma’am,” he said, turning to Grace and tilting his head in a careful salute of goodbye as he moved away.
“Mission Creek Motors?” Flynt said, and gave a low whistle. “Hell and more hell, Dad. You’ve gone and fathered a son who intends to run you out of the car business.”
For the first time in the course of the conversation, Ford almost smiled. “Looks like you’re right about that. I’d say that he’s not exactly happy to have discovered he’s my son.”
Grace came up and touched her husband gently on the arm. “It’s more than that, Ford.”
He looked at her with bleak eyes. “I know, and I’m sorry. Let’s go home, love. It’s been a long day. Too much to think about for one night.”
“By tomorrow we’ll have a plan,” she assured him, kissing his cheek as they walked away.
Fiona turned to Crystal. “Do you think he really means to run Daddy’s dealership out of town?”
Matt gave her a look of disbelief. “Lone Star Auto has been in business much longer than Mission Creek Motors, and we’ve always pulled in more sales than J.D. has.”
“Yes, but J.D. was in it just for fun. Ace Carson is looking for blood and payback.”
“The women will probably flock there,” Cara said, looking at Crystal. Crystal felt her face flame.
“He’s just a man I met today,” she said softly. “He helped me when I needed it. He’s leaving when he’s done whatever he plans to do.”
“He plans to get some of his own back from the Carsons, it looks like,” Matt said. “Might do it, too. Can you imagine what people are thinking? A Carson living in the Overton Apartments and selling the competitor’s cars?” His voice was indignant, but before he’d finished speaking, he began to grin and shake his head. “Things have been a bit tame around here lately,” he said. “This could prove interesting.”
Cara frowned. “Daddy’s upset. He’s always been in control of everything.”
Fiona nodded. “Well, it looks like this is one man he can’t control. I wonder if there’s a woman who can tame Ace Carson,” she said, smiling at Crystal.
Her comment made Crystal’s breath catch. She remembered how it had felt when Ace had placed his hand on her waist, his lips against her skin.
She stood. “Like the man said, I have to work tomorrow. And Timmy needs his own bed.”
Fiona smiled, but Crystal raised her brows and held up a hand. “This topic is off-limits, Fiona. There’s too much we don’t know here, and too much we’ll probably never know. I’m leaving now. I’m going home. My own
home,” she stressed, “and I would appreciate it if you would get those matchmaking notions right out of your head.”
Fiona lifted one delicate shoulder. Her husband, Clay, and Cara’s husband, Omar, came up behind them. Clay looped an arm around his wife and Omar kissed Cara’s cheek.
“Have our wives been causing trouble for you, Crystal?” Omar asked.
Crystal smiled at the men, who were so obviously in love. “Just the usual. Fiona’s trying to marry me off to every man that comes down the pike.”
“Not just any man this time,” Fiona said as Crystal waved and walked away.
“Not by a long shot,” Crystal whispered to herself. Ace Turner was a maddening, sensual, gloriously attractive man with a protective streak for women that was bigger than the town of Mission Creek, and he was about as easy to hold on to as air. It was time to stop thinking about him.
But when she walked out the door of the Lone Star Country Club leading Timmy by the hand, Ace was waiting there, leaning against the porch rail, his arms crossed.
He smiled when he saw her.
“I thought you’d gone,” she said.
“You’re my ride,” he told her. “And I believe the saying holds here. You leave the dance with the one who brought you.”
She shook her head and chuckled. “I believe that applies to dating practices. We’re not dating.”
“No, ma’am, and not likely to be, either.” But when he took her hand to lead her and Timmy through the dark parking lot, his hand was warm and strong and it took all the power she possessed to remind herself that he was just doing her a kindness. After all, Ace was a car salesman. He probably had any number of vehicles at his disposal.
When they got to her car and opened the door, the light poured out, revealing a long key scratch on the side. An involuntary gasp escaped Crystal’s lips.
“Hell,” Ace said.
Automatically Crystal’s fingers skimmed the ugly gouge. It was only a car, but it was hers, and this had obviously been an intentional act of destruction. She picked Timmy up and pulled him close in a protective embrace.
“Who would do this?” she asked. Who would have anything against her? The answer came to her. Branson.
“Don’t think about it,” Ace said, his voice tight with leashed anger. “Come on, let’s get you home. I’ll drive.”
“Should we report it?”
“Yes, but tomorrow will be soon enough. Whoever did this is most likely gone.”
Or watching.
But she saw Ace looking at Timmy and she had to agree. Even if someone was watching, they could not attend to the problem right now. Not while her child was at risk.
They drove in silence, Ace’s hands tense on the wheel, Crystal’s mind tumbling like a tornado blowing through the town. Only Timmy was peaceful as the motion of the car lulled him into dreamland.
“This isn’t the way to the Overton Apartments. This is the way to my house.”
“Fancy that,” he said.
“You’re coming home with me?” Her voice felt strange and stiff and slightly panicked. The thought of Ace Turner Carson in her house or even near her house, taking up the space, filling it with his overwhelming presence, was almost too much for her to contemplate.
He shook his head. “Relax, darlin’, I’m just escorting you home. I’ll leave when we get there.”
“How? You said that I was your ride.”
“I lied. And don’t worry about how. I’ve been getting around on my own since I was old enough to think for myself.”
She wondered what that meant. What had his childhood been like? How different had it been from that of his half brothers and sisters?
Crystal turned to him, studying the way the shadows and streetlights turned his handsome face even more handsome and mysterious.
“You stayed and waited for me because you thought Branson might come looking for me, didn’t you,” she said.
“Not necessarily.”
“Not necessarily?”
He shook his head, as if shaking off his own thoughts. “He wasn’t happy when he left. He obviously still had things he wanted to say. There was reason to believe that he might come here to let off a little more steam. That was one reason I stayed.”
“What was the other one?”
He took one hand off the wheel. He lifted her hair and cupped his palm around her neck, his thumb stroking the spot he’d kissed earlier.
She swallowed hard. “I can’t.”
“I know. I can’t, either, but you and Timmy needed an escort, and I needed a few moments of peace talking to a sweet woman, something to lull me asleep at Nola Warburn’s place.”
“I hear Nola can provide cures for insomnia,” she teased.
He turned to her and smiled. “You ever been there, darlin’?”
Her grin grew. “As a matter of fact, I have.”
He raised a brow. “I don’t believe you.”
“Believe me. Nola and I went to school together. I sneaked off there once after school to play. My mother came and dragged me home, but not before Nola taught me her secret.”
Ace frowned. “Her secret?”
“The way to drive a man wild.”
Ace’s fingers froze on her skin. “How old were you?”
“Old enough.”
“And what’s the secret?” he asked. He had pulled up to her house and had turned to her. She noticed the cab waiting across the street, one he must have called for before they left the country club. He must have discovered where she lived then, too. He’d planned ahead. She wondered what else he’d planned when he’d decided to come to Mission Creek.
“The secret to driving a man wild,” she said with a small smile, “is never give him what he really wants.”
“Well, then, that shouldn’t be too tough. I have a strong feeling that what I want is something you can’t give me.”
“And what’s that? What do you want?”
He got out of the car. He circled around and opened Timmy’s door and removed the sleeping child. Then he opened Crystal’s door and drew her out. He walked her to her door, waited until she’d unlocked her house and switched on the light. Then he placed Timmy in her arms and smiled.
She gazed up at him. “You didn’t answer my question. What are you really here for? What do you want?”
He stared down into her eyes and touched her cheek. “I don’t want anything. There’s nothing in the town of Mission Creek that I want, and you, my sweet little hospital fund-raiser, are a woman who wants a lot of something in your life.”
She frowned and shook her head fiercely. “I don’t want anything from you.”
“I didn’t say you did, but you do want something. You have a child. He has needs, and that means you have needs, whether you like it or not. You want things, Crystal. You definitely do, but the last thing you want is what a man like me can give you.”
He bent his head, gave her a quick hard kiss and then gently nudged her inside the door.
“Lock it. Now,” he said, and she did as she was told. Dazed and shaken by his touch, she could do nothing else. She needed to put some distance between them. A closed door at the very least.
But as she heard the door of the cab close, heard the engine roar as the car pulled away, she sank down with Timmy, holding him close and safe in her arms. She swept her fingers across her lips where Ace had warmed them and made them ache.
She wanted him to touch her again. Kiss her again.
The very thought scared her, because he was right. She might not want to ever marry, but she had needs. What she needed most in her life was stability. For herself and for her son. Especially for her son.
But there was no question in her mind that the man who had just kissed her didn’t have a high regard for or need for stability. He lived for the moment. When he took a woman in his arms, he took her passion and then moved on to the next woman.
She’d have to be the worst kind of fool to get caught up in that.
A
nd she had been a fool too many times.
“I don’t want you, Ace,” she whispered out loud.
But she knew that was a lie. She wanted him. Right here. Right now. His lips against hers. Again.
It seemed he’d been living in the shadows most of his life, Branson Hines thought from his position across the street beneath the trees. He liked the darkness.
It enabled him to find out what was going on, to get close to people without them knowing it. His eyesight after dark was excellent. That came in handy sometimes.
Like tonight.
He’d gotten away from those security guards easily enough. And he’d seen that witch and her kid, seen how she’d let the man kiss her when she’d refused Branson’s kiss earlier.
“She always survives,” he muttered. In spite of what he’d told everyone about her years ago, look what had happened. She’d become the hospital fund-raiser and the darling of the Carsons. In spite of being a total slut, she had a little boy—unlike his sweet wife, Deena, who’d lost her baby when she’d stepped into that hospital, that place of evil.
“Not fair, not nearly fair,” he said.
But he would make it fair. Oh, yes, he would. Crystal Bennett’s luck couldn’t hold out forever.
Six
Had a woman’s lips ever tasted so sweet? It was the first thought that edged into Ace’s thoughts the next morning when he woke up—and he didn’t like it.
“Get her out of your mind, Carson,” he told himself, closing his eyes and attempting to reclaim the relative oblivion of sleep.
Didn’t work. All he could see were big hazel eyes. All he could remember was the softness of her skin, the dazed, desire-filled look in her eyes when he’d pulled back.
Crystal had blinked and recovered quickly. She’d colored up prettily, and he could see that she was no doubt counting herself lucky that he had more or less told her he wasn’t staying around and would leave her alone.
Her Sweet Talkin' Man Page 6