“Well, what have you got, Jess?” Gifford leaned back in his chair and laid his cards against his chest.
Jess spread out his three of a kind. “Kings high.”
Gifford sat forward. “Nice hand.”
His grin made Jess groan deep down, but he kept his poker face.
“Full house.” Giff spread his cards across the table.
Jess made a face, then tossed the cards to the table. “I’m tapped. Dammit, man, you do this to me every Friday.”
Gifford gathered the winnings. “You fall for it every Friday.”
Shane and Nick returned to the table and deposited another round of drinks. Gifford collected the cards and began to shuffle.
Sully cracked an eye. “Are we done with our Friday night Gifford-out-plays-Jess round?”
Jess took a drink and stayed silent. This routine ran the same every week and the sameness chaffed as much as it comforted. He was too damn predictable, a comfortable country cowboy chasing after a thoroughbred filly. He’d lost out through his own cussed stubborn stupidity, on an argument he started, and then chose to hang with a sorry ass bunch of guys who had the same problem.
Why did everything have to come back around to Amy Rose? He wished he could get past the lump lodged in his throat. He wasn’t choked up, he just needed another drink.
He swallowed a healthy dose of his beer and reached for his wallet, fishing out another forty. “Deal her up.”
Sully’s feet hit the floor. “What? Jess going past his set limit? Where’s the snow?”
Shane looked ready to open his mouth, so Jess stepped into the silence.
“One, I’m not ready to go home. Two, it’s my money. I can change my limit any time I want.” He was defensive and didn’t care. These guys knew why he was raising his normal ante and he dared any one of them to say something.
Gifford, the smartest of the bunch, shuffled silently and dealt. Of course, he would. He went home every week with a good portion of Jess’s money in his pocket. He had his eye on the forty dollars on the table.
Nick pulled out a chair and entered the fray. “You really ought to go find Amy Rose and beg, man. You’re miserable.”
“Says the man who is divorced.” Jess bit off the rest. “Sorry. That was uncalled for.”
Nick shrugged and gave Jess a bland look. “Truth. Worst mistake I ever made.”
“Women,” Peyton muttered, well past his way to drunk. “Can’t live with ‘em, can’t leave ‘em behind.”
Jess raised his brow. “You haven’t had one girl you’ve stuck with. Who are you talking about?”
“Just being philo…philo…sophical.” Peyton burped. “Don’t think the lot of them are worth the interruption of a good poker game. He shoved his cards at Giff to indicate he was out.
“Don’t think anyone would define this as a good poker game. Not when Giff goes home with all the money.” Shane reached in and picked up the cards Giff had dealt.
Nick handed his cards back to Giff, too. “I’m out. Going to take knockhead here home.” He shoved Peyton’s drink away from him. “You’re done, pal.”
Peyton leaned back in his chair and nearly slid off the edge. He twisted his head and gave Nick a confused look. “Man, I’m drunk.”
Sully snorted from across the table. “Yeah, we know.”
Nick threw a couple bills across the table to Sully to cover their tab and hefted Peyton over his shoulder. “See y’all next week.”
The poker game lasted two more hands before Shane looked at his watch. “I’ve got a woman waiting on me, boys. I’m out.”
Giff grimaced. “You’re just scared. You’ve lost every hand.”
“I’ve lost all my cash, but not my senses. Woman? Or you guys?” Shane snorted. “Woman.”
“You should bring her to meet us.” Sully shoved his cards to the pile in the center of the table.
Shane handed some money to Sully. “Uh, no.”
Sully grinned. “Well at least bring her to family dinner on Sunday. Family needs to get a look at her, see if she’ll do.”
Jess couldn’t help it. He laughed outright at the idea. “Yeah, brother. Mom would love to meet her.”
Shane glared at the two. “That would be no. Kendra isn’t ready for the family yet. Neither am I.”
He left amid a bunch of ribbing and Jess realized he’d better get it in gear and go home before Sully and Giff got on him again about Amy Rose.
The guys didn’t understand. Amy Rose was going to have to stand up for what she wanted. Maybe he didn’t understand how hard that was for her because he’d been born into his career, loved it and had a family that backed him up. Maybe he should just cut her some slack. But something chaffed inside at their life together not being the thing she picked. Definitely, this was the kind of thing real men didn’t talk about over the poker table.
He stood up and forked over his portion of the tab for the evening. “I’m heading home. Early morning.”
Gifford stood. “Me, too. Night, Sully.”
Sully looked around the restaurant. The place was pretty full, even though they were an hour from closing. “Guess I’ll stay and balance the books after the door closes.”
“Maybe you need to find a woman, too.” Giff laughed at his jab and walked away, waving goodnight.
“Over my dead body.”
Jess heard him whisper and chose to stay silent. “Night, Sully. See you Sunday.”
“Lord willing and the creek don’t rise.” Sully rose and stacked the cards.
Jess snorted under his breath. “Right now I’d take the creek rising. Too hot and too dry. One stray cigarette and the whole place will go up like paper in a furnace.”
“You’re keeping track of Amy’s place as well as yours, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” He tipped his hat and walked away.
“If that ain’t love, I don’t know what is.” Sully yelled after him.
Jess kept walking, sorry he was losing the distraction of the game, but relieved to be able to let his defenses down.
He stepped outside onto the restaurant’s porch and glanced at the thermometer hanging there. Ninety-five degree heat. Eleven o’clock at night and still this hot? Wasn’t going to cool off and that was bad news.
He ambled to his truck and looked up at the stars. “Don’t know why I bother sleeping. Might as well check Amy’s place tonight.”
He left the parking lot and turned onto Copper Canyon Road. He didn’t hurry. He let his mind wander to other nights he’d driven this route to Amy Rose’s house. Allowed the memory of those nights she’d met him out on the porch and they’d made love under the stars. If he closed his eyes, he could feel those memories, fresh and vital.
Those thoughts collided with the breakup. He worked the ranch because he’d never had interest in anything else and turned out he was good at it. Amy Rose was smart and had the ability on several fronts to make something of herself. This whole mess wasn’t about how much they loved each other, because God knew from the first moment their feelings had been bigger than the Texas sky. It was about those intangibles that made the future. Sometimes a certain path needed to be taken to fulfill a destiny and he was scared to death Amy Rose’s path would take her away from him. And yet if he didn’t respect her right to choose, that made him worse than her parents.
Depression swept over him and he wished he’d stayed at Sully’s and gotten as drunk as Peyton. He wouldn’t be driving down this country road, ready to check a ranch that wasn’t even his just because he loved the damn woman. At the Orchard Hill intersection, he made a right and drove another half-mile where he met Amy’s driveway. He turned into the long lane and stopped.
Amy’s Rose’s car was parked next to the back porch.
There was a light on in the kitchen.
∞∞∞∞
Amy Rose sat in the dark in the living room, not wanting to go to bed. She couldn’t settle. Her cotton nightgown was rubbing against breasts and belly sensitive from early
pregnancy and stirred by memories of Jess’s touch. It was too hot to think of other clothes, though. It was too quiet and with only her circling thoughts for company, she was a wreck.
She didn’t want the television on.
She didn’t want to read.
She refused to visit the bathroom again.
She could boot up her computer and start looking for baby clothes and furniture, but that made her more frustrated and upset.
Lights flashed on the windows and she got up to see who was coming to the house at this time of night.
The truck pulled down the lane and when it came under the yard light, she sucked in a breath.
Jess.
She shoved her feet into her flip flops, rushed to the back door and out to the driveway, not taking time for a robe.
Jess got out of his truck, his mouth opened in surprise.
Their argument washed over her. She wanted to yell and scream at him, she wanted to hit him, she wanted….ohhhh.
She launched herself at him and took his lips. She didn’t know how it was possible to be so damn mad, yet want him so bad.
He did what he always did — softened his lips, smoothed a hand down her spine, calming her, gentling her, seducing her. Then he pressed into her with hungry tastes, pulled her against his solid length and tightened his hold.
God, she was home.
Breath mingled, sensation after sensation blasted through her. She stroked his back, the warmth of his body defying the shirt and spreading tingles into her hands. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I did. Why did you leave in the first place?” He lifted her nightgown and stroked the bare skin underneath.
She bit her lip, sighing, wanting, wavering. She slipped her nose against his skin and absorbed the familiar spike of need. She didn’t have a prayer of stopping herself. She jumped up into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist, kissing away his surprise.
“I missed you, baby.” He eased his mouth to her jaw to her ear to her neck.
Hot, blistering need rushed over her. She didn’t give a damn that they should talk first. This had always been their way to heal from an argument.
He carried her along the gravel driveway to the back of the house, to the porch swing where the view of the pasture and the stand of withered elm trees at the back of the house protected them from view. They used to keep a blanket on the swing just for moments like this, but she’d been gone, so the planks would be bare. They should go inside to the bed. She started to murmur just that, when he sank into the swing. Her knees hit fabric.
What?
She twisted to look.
“Shhhh, come here, crazy girl.” His lips found the spot beneath her ears and sucked, making her womb clench, her nipples pebble. Her body sighed in sinful release.
She returned the favor, sucking his earlobe, nimble fingers finding the buttons on his shirt. “Where did the blanket come from?”
“No blanket, a cushion. Had it made.” He lifted her nightgown over her head. His lips sealed over her breast and sucked like the finest passion fruit. The warm night air caressed her body in counterpoint to the warmth of his mouth. The question of why and when he’d ordered the cushion disappeared.
He abandoned her breasts for her mouth again and took to helping her divest him of his clothes. She was loathe to let him go, but shifted off his lap to let him stand. She relished her nakedness in the moonlight and questioned her sanity.
The unusually hot air of the late evening wrapped around her like a mood, not a breeze stirring. The crickets chirped while Jess shucked his boots and his jeans. Just as sanity was beginning to win its way back into her consciousness, his hands were on her hips pulling her back to the swing, to his lap and hungry mouth.
“Missed so many nights of this.” His hands urged her forward against the bareness of his skin and the steel of his erection. He caressed his way across her hip and over her stomach and she froze.
Would he feel the baby? Rationally, she knew she didn’t show enough yet for him to realize, but when he hesitated and pressed a hand to her stomach she wondered. But then he slid his fingers through the wetness at her core at the same time pulled a neglected nipple into her mouth.
Baby forgotten, she relaxed into the rhythm of their lovemaking. Her breath grew more ragged as he did the things she liked, touching and stroking.
She pushed her fingers through his hair and forced his mouth back to hers. She might have whispered “hungry for kisses,” but she wasn’t sure and it didn’t matter when he groaned deep and settled into her, his mouth and his body claiming her.
He knew how to hold her, how to use his hands and mouth to worship her, how to push her to the edge, pull back, then push some more until she was burning, begging, bordering on consumed.
She gave as good as she got, reveling in his strength, his smell, his surrender to her demand for faster rhythm, harder and tighter, moving and breathing as one —until the edge beckoned and she fell with a throaty scream, taking him with her.
Jess held her close, kissing her and stroking her skin. She sagged into him, laying her head against his heart and staring out at the star-filled night.
When he carried her into the house and followed her down into the bed, she didn’t protest, just reached for him again and again through the night.
But when day broke, she awoke to the heat of a new day and a sun more than part-way risen in the morning sky. He was gone — clothes, hat, truck and all. No note.
Fury and hurt washed through her like water in a storm gully. She rolled from the bed and got in the shower, needing the pounding water to blend with her tears. Why hadn’t he waited? They needed to talk.
Unless he’d taken the sex and given up on the rest.
The thought made her stomach twist in knots.
She made herself calm down, taking deep breath after deep breath. That wasn’t Jess. Her Jess wouldn’t do that.
She battled the usual morning nausea and dressed. Then, she grabbed her keys and went in search of baby-making, heart stealing Jess O’Hare.
∞∞∞∞
Out in the driveway, keys in hand, she squinted at the black car driving up her lane.
Her father.
She put a hand against her car and took a deep breath. Her stomach was revolting and that didn’t portend a good end. Please, let me not throw up in front of my father.
But it wasn’t just her father. Her mother got out of the passenger side and followed him up the not-long-enough driveway. They both were dressed in ridiculous formality. Her father sported his usual black-striped, tailor-made Italian suit. Her mother was dressed in a white Ann Taylor suit dress with pearls. They couldn’t have looked anymore out of place. Here Amy Rose stood in jeans and her favorite, well-worn college T-shirt.
She straightened her shoulders and found her pride. Her baby needed her to follow her heart and do the right thing. And if they thought they could gang up on her, they had another thing coming.
She opened her car door and dropped her purse on the seat, then closed the door again.
“What a surprise,” she greeted when they got to the bumper of her car and stopped. “You should have called me.”
“We tried, dear.” Her mother didn’t smile and the look of distress on her face made Amy Rose feel a tad guilty.
She tried for a smile, but was pretty sure one didn’t appear on her face. “Darn it, that’s right. My phone quit. I’ll have to put that on my list for today.”
“What are you doing here?” Her father’s growl had always intimidated her and she forced herself to take a moment before she answered him.
“I live here, Dad. I couldn’t stay at your house forever.”
“The bar exam is in a month. That is hardly enough time to study sufficiently to pass. Our home, with Miles to help you study, would be a much better decision.”
Oh, so he had it arranged, did he?
She looked at her mother and noted the shine of hope in her eyes.
&nbs
p; Years of anger twisted in her gut. Her father always tried to make her choices and her mother constantly stepped around her wishes. And maybe she’d always let them, thinking it was simpler. But today that stopped.
She uttered words that had been a long time coming. “I’m not going to take the bar exam.” She sagged in relief that the words were finally out there.
Her father huffed. “Of course you are. That was decided when I paid for law school.”
“No, you told me I was going. My choice was not involved. I didn’t want to argue with you and I wanted to be fair to you and figure out if that was something I wanted. I’m sorry, Father, it isn’t.”
He stiffened. “Young lady, that’s unacceptable. I’ve held your spot in my law firm and expect you to join. It’s your birthright. You will be taking the exam.”
She looked at her mother. The door closed on any support she thought she’d find there. “Miles adores you, dear. He was looking forward to working with you.”
Amy Rose damn near gagged. She swallowed hard against the bile churning at the back of her throat and remembered Jess’s touch from last night to ground herself. There was love there and, argument notwithstanding, a bedrock belief in her that up until now she hadn’t fully appreciated. “That’s not what I want either, Mother. And you knew that. We talked about this after I dated him the first time.”
“He’s a good catch, dear. You couldn’t ask for a better gentleman and a smart lawyer.”
Or a bigger asshole.
“I agree with your mother. This is what happens when we let you make your choices. Your future derails.”
“My future derails?” Amy Rose wrapped her arms around her stomach and moved towards her parents, feeling a whole lot pissy.
“I thought a parent’s job was to help their child reach her potential, not tell her what it was going to be. I thought it was your job to be supportive and respect my need to decide that for myself. That’s never what you’ve done for me. Maybe I’ve made a few mistakes, but they are my mistakes, my choices. I won’t be taking the exam. I won’t be joining your law firm. I won’t be marrying Miles.” She applauded the calm, reasonable firmness she’d found to say all that, then stepped back and took a deep breath.
Cowboy's Heart (Copper Canyon, Texas) Page 3