You’re perfect.
Addy played Kathy’s comment over and over through her mind as she folded the clothes Mary had laundered, trying to figure out what the woman had meant. Since Kathy had just confessed that Bill told her everything, she had to assume that by “I agree” it was Bill she agreed with. But about what? she asked herself in confusion.
“How’s he feeling?”
Addy jumped at the sound of Mack’s voice and turned to find him in the doorway. Unbidden, another of Kathy’s comments popped into her mind…her verdict of “you’re good to boogie.”
Mortified that she would think of that, she whipped her head back around, praying her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. “Fine,” she said, and gulped to steady her voice. “He hasn’t had any fever or been fussy.”
Mack crossed the room to peek into the nursery where the baby slept. Her heart hammering in her chest, Addy watched him through the corner of her eye, wondering why, more and more often, her thoughts seemed to turn to sex whenever he was near. Six months ago she wouldn’t have given him a second look. Older men were a turnoff for her, and Mack was at least ten years her senior. He failed in the physical department, too, as she was usually drawn to taller, lankier men, and though there was no question that Mack was tall—a good six feet, if not more—he definitely wasn’t lanky. He was built more like a brick wall—and about as impregnable as one. From day one, he’d been bossy to the point of overbearing, and that was a relationship killer in her book, as she tended to bow her back when told what to do.
He turned away from the nursery, and she quickly busied herself folding clothes, so he wouldn’t catch her staring.
“He looks like he weathered the shots okay,” he said, as he moved to stand beside her.
“I thought so, too.”
He picked up a bib and rubbed a thumb over the teddy bear appliqué on its front. “Did you enjoy having lunch in town yesterday?”
She glanced his way, surprised that he’d ask when she specifically remembered telling him she had, as well as thanking him for the meal. “Yes. I told you I did.”
Nodding, he dropped the bib and picked up a bootie and slipped two fingers inside. “What do you think of Lampasas?”
Though he was obviously talking to her, he didn’t look at her, which struck her as odd. He kept his gaze on the bootie and the puppet like movements he was making with his fingers.
“It’s nice,” she replied, frowning slightly. “Much smaller than Dallas, but small towns have their own special charm.” Unable to stem her curiosity, she asked bluntly, “Why all the questions?”
With a shrug he tossed the bootie back into the basket and turned away. “No reason. Just curious.”
Addy stared after him, as bewildered by his questions as she was by his obvious reluctance to meet her gaze.
It was hormonal.
Addy had reached the conclusion during the night, while unable to sleep. It was the only explanation she could come up with that made any sense for her sudden attraction to Mack. She knew hormonal changes were common in pregnant women, both during and after a pregnancy. She’d experienced a few herself while carrying Johnny Mack. The sudden, unexplainable rush of tears; the drastic swings in her internal thermostat, leaving her freezing cold one minute and sweating profusely the next.
Hormones, she thought decisively. That had to be it.
She stole a glance at Mack, sitting opposite her at the table, his attention on the folded newspaper propped beside his plate. He’d barely acknowledged her presence when she had joined him at the table for breakfast, and had kept his gaze fixed on the newspaper throughout the meal.
Grimacing, she stabbed her fork into a triangle of pancake. It wasn’t fair, she thought miserably, as she dragged it through the puddle of syrup on her plate. Why should she suddenly be stricken with an acute attack of lust, while his interest in her seemed to be dwindling with each passing day?
Not that he ever had been interested, she thought glumly. But he’d at least been nicer to her, more friendly. Keeping her company at night while she fed the baby. Sitting with her in the evening and watching TV. Insisting she take walks with him to the barns where he stabled his horses or to the pastures to see his cattle, in order to get her out of the house for a while and away from the baby.
She stole another look at him and felt the now-familiar stir of desire in her womb. The streaks of gray at his temples were nothing if not sexy. And the creases at the corner of his eyes and those between his brows when he concentrated, added an air of sophistication to an already handsome face. And that chest…She covered her mouth with her napkin to smother a lustful moan, imagining what it would be like to have it bare beneath her hands, pressed against her breasts.
“Mr. Mack?”
At the sound of Zadie’s voice, Addy snatched her napkin from her mouth and balled it guiltily in her lap.
“Yes?” Mack replied to Zadie, his gaze still on his newspaper.
“I gonna need a couple days off.”
He lifted his head to peer at her, his forehead creased in concern. “Is there a problem?”
She twisted her hands in her apron. “It’s my sister Mabel. Her boy Willie just called. Said Mabel fell and broke her leg last night.”
He set the newspaper down, giving her his full attention. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is she going to be all right?”
She gulped, nodded. “They put in a steel pin to hold it together. Done the surgery early this morning. But I needs to go and tend to her. Make sure she don’t overdo none.”
Mack nodded gravely. “Stay as long as you need. Do you want me to drive you?”
“I ’preciate that, but I can drive myself.” She wrung her hands. “I jest hate to up and leave y’all so sudden like. If I’d know’d, I’d’ve cooked up a bunch of food to see y’all through till I get back.”
Mack glanced at Addy. “I’m sure Addy wouldn’t mind doing a little cooking.”
Addy brightened at the suggestion. “Not at all. I love to cook.”
“I suppose she could handle things,” Zadie said doubtfully. “I could leave some recipes for her to follow.”
Mack rose and placed a hand on Zadie’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry about us. It’s Mabel you need to concern yourself with. Addy will see that we don’t starve.”
Addy stood before the mirror in her bathroom, naked as the day she was born, giving her body a last brutal assessment. Her face appeared somewhat thinner, she decided, her waist more defined, her stomach almost as flat as it had been before she had become pregnant. She cupped her hands beneath her breasts and tipped her head to the side to study them. They were definitely bigger than her prepregnant state, but they had lost that “melon” look and appeared almost…well, normal.
Relieved, she leaned close to examine her face and smoothed a finger over her cheek, searching for the dark spot that had appeared several months ago, “pregnancy mask” as Dr. Wharton had referred to it. She was pleased to find that it had faded, and knew that with a little makeup it wouldn’t be noticeable at all.
Stepping back, she lowered her gaze to look at her abdomen and spotted a couple of stretch marks. Wincing, she traced a nail over the most obvious one that lay along her bikini line, then sputtered a laugh. Bikini line, she thought, rolling her eyes. As if she’d be caught dead in a bikini, postpregnancy or not.
Telling herself that a couple of stretch marks were small payment for the gift of her son, she stepped into the tub and, with a sigh, slid into the chin-deep bubbles. Lined along the edge of the tub were everything she’d need to make herself beautiful…or, at the very least, presentable. A razor and shaving cream, an avocado mask for her face, perfumed oils to scent her body, lavender bath salts to help her relax. Frowning, she sprinkled the salts generously over the water, knowing she was going to need all the help she could get in the relaxation department.
As she’d discovered, planning a seduction was hell on a woman’s nerves.
The idea to sedu
ce Mack had come to her shortly after Mary had left at five o’clock and with her departure the realization that, with Mary gone for the day and Zadie in Austin taking care of her sister, Addy and Mack would have the house to themselves for the first time ever—with the exception of Johnny Mack, of course, but she had already put him down for the night and was praying he would sleep until morning.
Although the idea had come unbidden and in a flash of what could only be described as divine inspiration, she hadn’t embraced it immediately. She’d stewed and fretted, worrying that Mack wouldn’t find her physically attractive. After a good ten minutes of hand wringing, she’d decided to hell with it. What makeup and candlelight couldn’t hide, she wouldn’t worry about. He’d accept her as she was or not all. No big deal.
Yeah, right, she thought wryly.
Ignoring the tremble in her fingers, she smeared the mask over her face and let it set while she lathered and shaved her legs. Next came a full-body scrub with the loofah sponge and the scented oils, followed by a brisk shampoo and conditioner for her hair.
Once she was sure her hair was clean, her body smooth and seductively scented, she stepped from the bath. After drying off, she looked around for her clothes and hissed a breath when she realized she’d forgotten to bring them in with her.
With a sigh of resignation, she wrapped the towel around her and opened the bathroom door, tucking the ends to secure the towel between her breasts. Halfway across the room, she heard a noise behind her and glanced over her shoulder to find Mack backing from the nursery. Her heart skipped a beat, then kicked hard against the wall of her chest. She looked toward the closet, then back at the bathroom, mentally calculating the distance to each…and realized she’d never make it to either without being seen.
Standing with a damp towel draped around her, her hair hanging in wet clumps to her shoulders, her face freshly scrubbed, but minus the concealing makeup she’d intended to apply, she could all but see her plans for a seduction going up in smoke before her very eyes.
Mack turned. “Hey,” he said, smiling. “I was just about to—” He stopped short, his smile melting as he slid his gaze slid down her front. “You’re wearing a towel,” he said dully, then lifted his gaze to hers.
She jerked up her chin, refusing to let her embarrassment show. “I forgot to take my clothes into the bathroom with me.”
His gaze skimmed down her front again, and his Adam’s apple bobbed convulsively. When he lifted his eyes to meet hers a second time, she saw the heat that burned there, would swear she felt it sizzle and pop against her damp skin.
Praying she wasn’t reading him wrong, she inhaled deeply…and dropped the towel.
Six
It wasn’t until the towel hit the floor that Addy remembered candlelight and the fact that she’d been counting on it, as well as the makeup, to conceal some of the flaws on her body. Thankfully, the overhead light was off, but the bedside lamp wasn’t, which meant Mack had a fairly clear view of her every imperfection, if he were to look closely enough.
And he was definitely looking.
At the moment, his gaze was riveted on her breasts. Though she wanted more than anything to grab the towel and make a run for it, she squared her shoulders and thrust out her chin.
She heard what she thought was a moan come from him, and a shiver of response skated down her spine. In for a penny, in for a pound, she told herself, and forced herself to take that first bold step.
His gaze shot to hers. “Addy…”
She heard the warning in his voice…or was it a plea? Praying it was the latter, she stopped in front of him and laid her hand on his chest. She felt him jolt at her touch, the thunder of his heart beneath her palm, but his gaze remained steady on hers, his eyes turning a dark, smoldering blue.
“Do you know what you’re doing?”
This time the warning in his tone was clear. She gulped, nodded. “Yes.”
His chest swelled beneath her palm as he hauled in a breath, then deflated, as he released it. “You have exactly two seconds to change your mind.”
She lifted a brow in challenge. “And if I don’t?”
“One…two.”
Before she had time to draw a breath, his mouth came down on hers, fierce and demanding, his arms wrapping around her like a vise. She felt the need in him, tasted it, even as a part of her mind marveled that she had the power to evoke that level of emotion in a man.
His hands burned like brands on her back, searing her flesh, as he forced her body up hard against his. She felt the swell of his erection against her abdomen, the heat of it spreading through her in wave after dizzying wave, and wondered why she’d waited so long to seduce him.
He was a marvelous kisser. She was surprised she still had the presence of mind to form the thought. His lips were possessive, demanding, arousing, as were the hands that stroked her bare back, urging her ever closer. When her breath began to burn in her lungs, her knees to grow weak, he slowly softened the kiss, his impatience giving way to a sensual exploration she found no less arousing.
The desire to touch him, to have her hands on his bare skin, as his were on hers, was too strong to ignore any longer.
“Your clothes,” she said breathlessly, and reached for the buttons of his shirt.
Though he loosened his hold on her enough to give her access, he kept his arms looped low on her waist, holding her groin against his. She’d released three when she sensed his gaze. She glanced up and found him looking at her, his expression…curious? Questioning? Confused?
Unsure, she stilled her hands, fearing she’d done something wrong. “What?”
Shaking his head, he dipped his head to nuzzle her neck. “Nothing.”
Though his reply did nothing to allay the doubts that suddenly crowded her mind, his mouth did the trick, as he nibbled his way up her neck and over her chin. She freed the last button on his shirt, just as he found her mouth again. Her breath stolen, she braced her hands against his chest, as much to steady herself as to satisfy her need to touch him. Warmth, strength…she sensed both beneath her palms, as she swept them up his chest and over his shoulders to strip away his shirt.
With a groan he cupped her buttocks and brought her up hard against him. “Bed.”
His request was one-word simple, leaving no doubt in her mind as to his meaning, his needs. Before she could tell him that’s what she’d had in mind from the start, he scooped her up into his arms.
She might’ve shivered deliciously at his caveman tactics, perhaps even lifted a brow at the finesse with which he stripped back the bedcovers while holding her in his arms. But she had time for neither, as he immediately began to undress.
Lying on her back in the center of her bed, she followed his movements like a voyeur, watching as he toed off his boots and peeled down his jeans. But when he straightened, her gaze refused to budge from the stiff shaft jutting from a nest of dark hair at the juncture of his legs. She didn’t want to compare. That seemed so tawdry, so high schoolish. But she couldn’t help but notice that he was better equipped than Ty. Gulping, she lifted her gaze to his.
With his eyes fixed on hers, he sank a knee into the mattress and stretched out over her, until his mouth covered hers again. His body was like a blanket, warm and comforting, his kiss so tender, so gentle, it drew tears to her eyes.
He lifted his head and combed her hair back to search her face, saw her tears. “It’s okay for us to do this, isn’t it?” he asked hesitantly.
She didn’t need for him to tell her what he meant by this. She gulped, nodded. “According to Kathy, I’m good to boogie.”
He blinked, then hooted a laugh and fell to his back at her side. “God, that sounds just like her.”
She felt a moment’s panic, fearing that she’d somehow ruined the mood by telling him what Kathy had said. But then his gaze slid to her breasts and his smile slowly faded. He rolled to his side and reached to cup one in the palm of his hand, his expression soft.
“When I’d
watch you nurse Johnny Mack, I’d wonder what your breasts looked like, how they might feel.” He rubbed the ball of his thumb over the nipple, then leaned to flick his tongue over the budded tip and said, “How they’d taste.”
Prickles of desire danced to life beneath her skin at his tongue’s urging, and shot to quiver like plucked strings in her womb. Trembling, she squeezed her knees together, fearing she would come apart right then and there.
He glanced up, and she saw that the heat had returned to his eyes. Holding her in place with nothing more than his gaze, he pushed up to an elbow and pressed his lips to hers. A shiver shook her, as he hooked an arm around her neck and pulled her over on top of him, holding her face to his between his broad hands. He deepened the kiss by degrees, while shifting his hands to stroke up and down her back. Heat radiated from her, beading her skin, slicking her hands. Sure that he intended to drive her mad before he made love to her, she rocked her hips impatiently against his.
His response was to grip her buttocks firmly within his hands, holding her against him. He thrust his tongue between her lips, an oral teasing that shot heat through her, a bolt of lightning that blinded and seared. Never in her life had she experienced anything like this, she thought desperately. Never such urgency, such need.
“I want you,” she whispered, pressing herself against him.
He drew back to look at her, his expression uncertain. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” she told him, even as she slipped a hand between their bodies to guide him to her. The tip of his erection slid across her opening, and she nearly wept in frustration.
“Mack,” she gasped, straining toward him.
He tightened his hands on her buttocks to still her. “Easy,” he murmured. “Let’s take this slow.”
She shook her head wildly. “No. Please. Now.”
In spite of her demand for urgency, he entered her slowly, inch by slow inch. The tremble of his hands on her hips, the quiver of his legs against hers, told her how much his restraint cost him. Though touched by his concern for her, she didn’t want slow. What she wanted, needed, was him.
A Piece of Texas Trilogy Page 23