Irritation spilled out of her. “You certainly didn’t feel hounded by your groupies back then!”
His eyes glinted. From the last rays of the sun as it made its way to the horizon? Or from more amusement he couldn’t hide?
“No need to get in an uproar over it,” he said. “Those girls were just wanting to hitch their wagons to the nearest star.”
She exhaled forcefully. “Well, let me tell you something. I have never thought of you as ‘Caleb Cantrell, rodeo star.’ And I don’t plan to start thinking that way now.”
“You don’t?”
She’d responded honestly and openly, not stopping to analyze a thing. If she’d thought twice, she might have held back, knowing her words would have to upset him. Yet the expression on his face now looked anything but upset.
The look in his eyes made her head swim. She had to tear her gaze away.
And at that moment, with that brief loss of contact, in that tiny little window of time when she let down her guard and allowed her true feelings to show, she realized she’d contributed to her own undoing.
Before she could react, Caleb slipped his hand behind her head and gently urged her to turn toward him again. When she did, she found his face close to hers, their mouths only inches apart.
She tensed her hands, planning…wanting…needing to push him away. But after the past weeks of nerves stretched to the breaking point and the past ten years of unfulfilled wishes and destroyed dreams, she needed this just as much.
The chance to kiss Caleb.
No.
The chance to have Caleb kiss her, to let him realize what he had done and how he had hurt her and everything he had missed—and then the best chance of all, for her to tell him to kiss off.
That’s what she needed.
But instead of moving forward as she expected, he leaned back. And brushed his finger teasingly along her skin just above the elastic neckline of her peasant blouse. Her heart began to pound.
Again, he did the unexpected. Instead of touching her mouth with his, he dipped his head. He brushed his warm lips against the fluttering pulse point below her ear, slid his finger beneath the elastic and eased the neckline aside to travel a path along her collarbone. She traveled, too, back to the time he’d discovered that very sensitive place on her body. The first time she’d known about it herself.
The reminder made her freeze in place.
And now, finally, his eyes dark and glittering, he leaned close and kissed her. The weight and heat of his mouth against hers made her heart race even faster.
She raised her hands to his chest, longing only to pull him against her, to relive the closeness they’d once shared. But the knowledge of what had happened between them then—what she had to prevent him from discovering now—told her she couldn’t cuddle against him. Couldn’t risk letting him take her into his arms. She had to push herself away from him.
But could she?
Chapter Thirteen
Caleb let Tess’s words replay in his head.
I have never thought of you as ‘Caleb Cantrell, rodeo star.’ And I don’t plan to start thinking that way now.
For once, he didn’t have a lick of trouble with her outspokenness.
He’d never tell her that, or let her know how relieved she had made him feel. Or admit that her words had made everything right for him.
She flattened her palms against him, and the deep breath he took made his chest swell. With pride or contentment that she still wanted him, he didn’t know. Could she still want him?
The question managed to slap some sense into his head.
What he was doing here was crazy.
When he and Tess had been together before, they were kids. They were adults now. Consenting adults. That knowledge should have provided the go-ahead to do what he wanted. And what was he doing? Behaving like a randy teen with his first crush, about to go too far in the front seat of a pickup truck.
A truck he didn’t even own. Somehow, that made it worse.
Tess didn’t deserve this.
Out of respect for her, he needed to stop.
In the same instant Tess pressed her palms against his chest, he leaned back and slid his arms from around her. Ignoring the twinge in his knee, he slid across the bench seat and behind the wheel again.
Damn. He’d come here to make things right for himself. Not to do everything wrong.
It was dark enough now inside the cab of the truck that he couldn’t see Tess’s face. Good. That meant she couldn’t see his. He made a fist and tapped the side of it lightly on the dashboard. Then he started the pickup. “Time to head back,” he muttered.
Silence.
“Got a little carried away there.”
More silence.
He kicked the shift into gear. “It won’t happen again.”
From the other side of the cab came only a long, drawn-out sigh.
Of frustration? Irritation? Regret?
Yeah, he felt the same.
If he’d been thinking straight, he’d never have taken things this far. Or gotten this close to actions he might never escape. Accidents happened, and he wanted nothing to do with the consequences that could result from them.
He jammed his foot on the gas pedal. With a roar of the engine and a tug on the steering wheel, he swung the truck around in the direction of town.
He’d fought hard during this damned long week to keep his mind on his goals. As if he didn’t already have enough to deal with, his conscience would bother him now, for sure.
Should’ve listened to those instincts.
Should’ve kept those hands off her.
Should’ve realized you can’t trust yourself around her.
TESS HURRIED to finish loading the dishwasher.
Simple exhaustion from all the stress had made her sleep like a rock that night. No dreams of Caleb. No nightmares.
But no escaping him at the breakfast table the next morning, either. She had struggled to survive the meal without staring at him as if she were some lovestruck teenager.
Like mother, like daughter.
She would have laughed at the irony of it—if her heart hadn’t broken for her daughter’s sake.
It was going to be a long day. The work party at Sam Robertson’s ranch had expanded to include a barbecue afterward. And if that wasn’t bad enough, just as they’d finished breakfast, Kayla called, asking her to bring Nate over early to keep Becky company.
Of course Tess had said yes, although agreeing had almost broken her. Now, more than ever, she needed to keep an eye on Caleb whenever he was with Nate. That would mean nearly all day and probably half the night at Sam’s.
After breakfast, Caleb had disappeared without a word. Roselynn had left to drop Nate at Lissa’s until they needed to leave for Sam’s. Then she planned to pick up a few things at the store.
Finished loading the dishwasher, Tess hurried out to the yard to take down the laundry. She welcomed the chore to keep her mind occupied. She welcomed even more the chance to be alone.
In the hot sun, the bed linens had already dried. She folded as she went, dropping the items into her basket. As she took down the remaining sheet, she got a clear view of the opposite side of the yard. And what a view it was.
Caleb had just come around the corner of the shed. He’d taken off his T-shirt, and she couldn’t drag her gaze away. Her mouth went as bone-dry as the sheet in her hands.
That first night he’d stayed at the inn, she’d seen how good he looked standing half-undressed in the dim light of the hall outside his bedroom. Yesterday, in their encounter in the front seat of his truck—the encounter she’d since tried so hard to forget—she had touched all that goodness. Even through the fabric of his shirt,
she’d felt hard muscle and heat.
Now he crossed the yard toward her. She shivered and clutched the sheet in her suddenly trembling hands—as if that would do any good. She’d be better off sitting on those hands to keep them out of temptation’s way. And off temptation’s six-pack abs.
Caleb closed in.
Walking—or running—away now would only make her look like a coward. Standing there shaking wouldn’t give any better impression. She gathered up the sheet, crossed to one of the picnic benches and collapsed onto it.
Temptation came to a stop in front of her, looking hot—in more ways than one. Sexy, no doubt about that. And slightly sweaty, with his hair curled at the edges and a light film of moisture riding his tanned cheekbones. The urge to kiss that moisture away left her clutching the sheet so tightly, her fingers hurt.
To her dismay, he took the seat beside her. He sat backward on the bench and stretched his legs out in front of him. She saw him wince and had to swallow her murmur of sympathy.
As she glanced down, she saw what the hallway light hadn’t shown her that night—a long, thin scar, sliced white against tanned skin, traveling up his rib cage and ending to one side of his chest in a sunburst of scar tissue.
This time she couldn’t swallow her response. She gasped and looked up to meet his eyes. “Caleb…” She couldn’t finish. Didn’t know how.
His shrug puckered the scarred skin even more. “That’s nothing compared to the knee.”
She licked her dry lips and fought to match his matter-of-fact tone. “They happened in the same accident?”
He narrowed his eyes, and she could read his question in them. She looked away, afraid to answer. No, she hadn’t followed the news about him, or she would have known already. She wouldn’t have asked him now.
After a moment, he said, “Yeah, the same time. That bull wasn’t satisfied with throwing me off and stomping on my leg. He tried to run through me in a few places, too.”
The statement made her lose any pretense of calm. Reaching out with her shaking hand, she traced the long, thin scar. “Does it hurt still?”
“Not right now, it doesn’t.” He half smiled, but she didn’t need to see that to know what he meant.
“I’m sor—”
He lifted his hand and touched one finger to her lips. “Don’t say it. I don’t want that.”
She moved her hand upward, sliding it to the patch of scar tissue. His heartbeat thrummed steadily beneath her palm. After a moment, she dropped her hand to her lap. But not before she’d felt his heartbeat pick up speed.
She sighed. “I wish I knew what you did want,” she murmured, looking away. “You say you’re here to buy property, but you don’t seem interested in anything I’ve shown you so far. And then yesterday… Caleb,” she said, unable to stop herself from blurting the thing that had bothered her most since then. The apology she’d never made. “When we were out in the desert and you’d talked about us, you said I knew I wasn’t going to get anywhere with you.”
She waited. He didn’t respond, didn’t look toward her, but she could tell by the way he sat, without moving a muscle, that he was listening to her.
“You said I knew it so well, that’s why I didn’t tell my family about you. And you thought it was because I pitied you. But I never have.” She hung on to the sheet in her lap, needing to do something with her trembling hands. “I didn’t keep our relationship from my family because of you. I did it because of me.”
“You?” He still wouldn’t look at her. “Why?”
She sighed. “Because my grandfather would have skinned me alive if he’d found out I was dating anyone.”
At that, he turned his head, his eyes squinted in a frown. “You were seventeen.”
“I know that. But he didn’t think I should date anyone until I graduated. He was strict about it, almost obsessed over the idea of my focusing on my education. My mother dropped out of high school, and I think he thought I’d do the same.” She shrugged. “It didn’t matter. There wasn’t anyone I wanted to go out with, anyhow. Until that day at the Double S.”
Now she was the one who wouldn’t make eye contact.
She and Dana had stopped in at the café after school for sweet teas. Football practice ended early, and Paul had shown up unexpectedly. The three of them shared a booth, but Paul made it so obvious he wanted to be alone with Dana that Tess couldn’t help but catch on. Before she could speak up, could think of an excuse to leave, he had made the first move, and he and Dana had left her alone in the café.
“I was in pretty bad shape that day,” she said, able to smile about it now. “It felt like Dana and I never had time alone together anymore. She was always somewhere with Paul. That was the first time in weeks we’d been able to hang out, just the two of us. Then they went off without me.” She laughed. “It wasn’t till they were gone that I discovered I didn’t have enough money to pay for the sweet teas.”
“I remember,” he murmured.
“You saved me that day, giving me the change from your tips to make up the difference. If Granddad ever found out I’d tarnished his reputation by not paying what I owed, he would have grounded me till graduation.”
“Dori and Manny would’ve let you slide.”
“I didn’t know that. But you were there for me. I never thanked you for that.”
“I didn’t hold it against you.”
“No.” But he’d held her against him not long ago, about as tightly as she now clutched the sheet. She dropped it to her lap and said, “Another thing about yesterday…when you said you’d gotten carried away…”
“And you won’t hold that against me, will you?”
“You said it wouldn’t happen again.”
He leaned closer.
She stiffened, still not able to look at him. And now not daring to breathe.
“It won’t happen,” he said, his voice low. “Unless you want it to.”
He stroked her jaw lightly with one finger.
Warmth spread up her neck into her cheeks. “I—”
“Oops. Well, excuse me!”
She jumped, startled by the unexpected interruption, though not at all surprised by whose voice she had heard. She turned away from Caleb to face her aunt.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You’re not,” Tess said, rising from the bench.
Just as Caleb had saved her from an embarrassing situation that day in the Double S, Aunt El had saved her now—from giving in to temptation. From making yet another mistake. “I was just collecting the laundry, but I need to go over to my office for a while. Lots of paperwork to do before we go off for the rest of the day.”
As she’d spoken, she had gathered up the sheet, crossed the yard again and grabbed the laundry basket.
Then she smiled at them both and fled.
TESS HAD FORGOTTEN about Roselynn borrowing the car.
She took her bag with the office keys in it and walked the few blocks to Wright Place Realty, hoping to burn up her nervous energy. She couldn’t. And once at her desk, she had nothing to occupy her. So she simply paced the floor of the sunlit room and wondered how she’d managed to get herself into this predicament. And how she was going to get out of it in one piece and with her emotions intact.
Why couldn’t she just have been satisfied with Joe Harley? Why couldn’t she have accepted his proposal one of the many times he’d offered it? Then she wouldn’t have had to face this dilemma at all.
But good old Joe didn’t… Joe couldn’t…
She sighed, forced to admit what she knew.
Joe wasn’t who she wanted.
She’d been so foolish with Caleb just now, reminding them both of what had happened the night before.
The rush of e
xcitement she’d felt when he’d held her proved how much she still cared about him. His kiss had only increased her desire to get closer. Whether she would have found the strength to push him away, she would never know.
He’d moved first, backing off in a rush. Admitting he’d gotten carried away. Assuring her that kiss would never happen again.
At the same time, she’d become obsessed by a wish that it would never end.
Again, she berated herself for mentioning anything to him.
So foolish. So naive. So completely idiotic.
How could she have left herself that vulnerable to him? And in front of Aunt El, too?
A sudden flash through the office window caught her attention. Outside, sunlight glinted off the windshield of Dana’s van as she eased it to a stop at the curb.
Groaning, she dropped her head into her hands. They had spoken on the phone and exchanged emails but hadn’t seen each other since the day at Ben’s ranch.
She didn’t want to see Dana now. How could she, when her best friend would take one look and know something was wrong? She would have to bluff her way through this. After a long, deep breath, she pasted a smile on her face.
The front door swung open.
Dana stood on the threshold and shook her head. “You’ll give me a bad name with folks for making you come in on a Sunday.”
“We can always claim work overflow.”
“Ha.” Dana closed the door and went to take a seat behind her desk.
Tess raised her brows in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“I saw the lights on and thought maybe our landlord was up to something sneaky.”
Tess laughed, sure that’s what Dana had intended. “That’s ridiculous. Squeaky-clean, boy-next-door Ben?”
“Just kidding. Actually, I didn’t come in to discuss Ben. I saw you sitting here.”
“Oh.” Suddenly wary, she looked down at her desk and brushed an imaginary speck of lint from its surface.
“I’m as sure as I can get,” Dana said, “you’ve got something you want to tell me.”
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