by Gina Wilkins
That, he thought dazedly, had been an amazing experience. And it wasn’t because it was the first time he’d been with any woman in more than a year. It was entirely because of Molly.
It should have come as no surprise that she made love with the same spirit and enthusiasm with which she did everything else. She was obviously inexperienced in many ways, but touchingly eager to learn. No games, no artifice—just honest, undisguised desire and appreciation.
That sort of thing could all too easily become addictive.
“Kyle?”
He hoped she wasn’t going to get all introspective now, wanting to talk about their feelings and the ramifications of what they had done—or expressing doubts and regrets now that it was too late to do anything about them. “Yeah?”
“Did you get anything for dessert?”
It took him a couple of beats to change mental gears.
Glancing at the remains of their chicken lunch, he shook his head against the pillow. “I didn’t think of it. Are you still hungry?”
“I could go for something sweet.”
Okay, he was lying there reflecting about how his whole life had been turned upside down, and she was thinking about food? Maybe the experience hadn’t been as spectacular for her as it had been for him.
Because he refused to get into one of those painful, was-it-good-for-you conversations, he reached for his pants. “I’ll see what I can find in the vending machine.”
“Anything chocolate would be good.”
“Chocolate. Right.” Grabbing the rest of his clothes, he limped self-consciously into the bathroom and closed the door.
He felt like a fool now for worrying about Molly’s tender sensibilities. Obviously, she wasn’t nearly as enamored with him as he had feared.
He had apparently fallen victim to an uncharacteristic attack of swollen male ego.
Waiting only until the motel room door had closed behind Kyle, Molly shed her brace and hurried for the shower, clinging to furniture on her way to support her ankle. She closed the bathroom door and climbed beneath the spray before the water had even warmed, only then allowing the trembling to overtake her. She had a sneaking suspicion that there were tears mixed with the shower water streaming down her face.
She had desperately needed this brief time away from Kyle. After assuring him that she could handle their lovemaking, it wouldn’t have been at all good for her to burst into tears in his arms. Or to tell him that she had fallen hopelessly in love with him. Or to beg him to give them a chance at a long-term commitment.
Kyle hadn’t wanted to hear any of those things. He would have made a hasty and complete emotional retreat if she had said them—so she had given herself time to regain control in private.
She wasn’t sure how more experienced, more sophisticated people behaved after dazzling lovemaking. Probably they didn’t immediately request chocolate and leap into the shower—but maybe she had reinforced her false assertion that her heart was not at risk with him.
At least the question of birth control had not been an issue. Earlier that year she had been prescribed birth control pills to alleviate cramps and monthly migraines. Though she hadn’t explained the reasons, she had assured Kyle that she was protected—which might have gone even further toward convincing him that making love with him wasn’t a huge, momentous, life-changing event.
Maybe he had simply wanted to believe it was no big deal to her—wanted it enough to ignore the signs that it had been a very big deal, indeed.
He hadn’t told her he loved her. He hadn’t said much at all, actually. He had made love to her with a quiet, intense concentration that had sent a pang through her heart even as it had made her soar to heights she had never imagined possible. He was so lonely, so hungry for love and acceptance—yet so deeply guarded that he would never admit he needed anyone.
So she had been breezy and blasé, careful not to reveal anything that would have scared him off. She’d bought herself a few minutes of privacy to have her little mini-breakdown. Now maybe she would be able to face him without falling to her knees and begging him to love her.
Braiding her wet hair into a long plait, she wrapped herself in her green terry robe, drew a deep breath and opened the bathroom door.
Kyle stood when she entered the room. He studied her face searchingly, but she kept a bright smile firmly in place. “Did you find chocolate?”
“Yeah.” He waved a hand toward the table, where a package of chocolate cupcakes sat next to an assortment of candy bars and a couple of canned drinks. Apparently, he’d bought every type of chocolate treat in the machine, she thought with a lump in her throat. “Take your pick.”
Hoping she would be able to swallow now that he’d gone to this much trouble, she nodded toward the pile. “Looks like we can go on a serious sugar binge here.”
“Actually, we’ll need to have dessert-to-go,” he replied. “The guy from the garage called while you were in the shower. Your car is fixed.”
“So we can get on our way again?”
He nodded. “As soon as you’re ready.”
She found that she wasn’t ready at all for the last leg of her time with Kyle. But she hoped her heartbreak wasn’t visible in her eyes when she looked at him with a bright smile and all but chirped, “I’ll hurry.”
He turned away. “Good.”
Molly kept the CD player going as they got back on the road toward Texas. She selected lively country music turned to a volume that would have made conversation difficult, even had Kyle been inclined to talk. Which he apparently wasn’t, since he drove in silence without taking his eyes off the road.
She made a few random comments about passing scenery—just so he wouldn’t think she was being all broody and moony about the events of the day—but he answered in monosyllables. Eventually she stopped trying and settled back into her seat, letting weariness overtake her.
She was a bit sore in a lot of places, but her ankle was really throbbing now. Maybe she hadn’t been taking care of it quite as diligently as she should have.
Though she didn’t want to call attention to her discomfort, she finally decided she needed to take something for the pain. She dug into her purse for the mild pills she had been given when she’d left the hospital, washing one down with the bottled water she kept in one of the two console drink holders.
“Hurting?” Kyle asked, glancing her way.
“Just a little sore.”
He probably knew it was more than that or she wouldn’t have resorted to medication, but all he said was, “Why don’t you lean your seat back and get some rest? You don’t need to keep me company.”
His tone seemed to imply that he would be happier if she didn’t try to make conversation. She reclined her seat a bit and bunched up the light jacket she usually kept in the back seat, using it for a pillow. The combination of pain, medication and emotional overload made it easy for her to shut down for a while.
She would save her worrying for later, she decided, when she was better rested. She didn’t even try to convince herself it would be any easier then to face separation from Kyle—but she would need all her strength to get through it.
Molly slept for quite a while. Remembering how medications affected her, Kyle wasn’t surprised that the pill had knocked her out. Even in her sleep, she frowned occasionally and shifted her injured leg.
He hoped he hadn’t twisted it or anything when they’d made love. He’d tried to be extra careful, but… well, there had been an interlude when he hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly.
As for himself—he felt great. Better than he’d felt in months. Yeah, he still had his usual aches and pains, but right now they just didn’t seem to matter.
It had been just what he needed. Mind-blowing sex with a lovely, eager woman who wanted nothing more from him than an afternoon of pleasure. There’d been no awkward attempts at heart-to-hearts afterward, no hint that she would get clingy when they went their separate ways. He should be fully satisfied r
ight now, no complaints at all.
And yet…
He looked at her again. She was sleeping deeply now, the frown lines smoothed into an utterly peaceful expression. He had a hard time reconciling the beautiful woman he saw now with his hazy memories of the carrottopped, gap-toothed, gawky little girl he’d known so long ago.
When he had paid any attention to her then, he’d thought of her as a sheltered, pampered, indulged daddy’s girl. She had been well behaved—friendly and happy and kindhearted. No tantrums or bratty behavior that he remembered, but her life experience had been so removed from his own that he’d had a difficult time identifying with her. Two loving, protective parents; an adoring older brother; a huge, supportive extended family; a nice, safe, relatively peaceful home filled with love and laughter and the smell of home-baked cookies—all so different from his own tumultuous, unsettled childhood.
That upbringing had produced a young woman who was headstrong, impulsive, uninhibited and blithely certain that everything would turn out just the way she wanted. She was young, pretty, happy with her circumstances. It was no wonder, he supposed, that she was in no hurry to entangle her life with anyone else.
She certainly wouldn’t want to get mixed up with a burned-out, battle-scarred, embittered ex-soldier with a painful past and a precarious future. And he couldn’t blame her for that.
He’d been driving for almost two hours when physical demands and an emptying gas tank made a stop necessary. He pulled into a clean-looking convenience store with gas pumps and a fast-food restaurant attached. “Molly,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Wake up.”
She opened her eyes and gave him a sweet, sleepy smile that went straight to his gut. “Where are we?”
“We’re in Texas. I need a break. I thought you might need one, too.”
She gave it a moment’s thought, then nodded. “I could use a stretch. Hand me the stupid crutches.”
He smiled slightly in response to her resigned request for the hated crutches. And then he opened his door. Barring any further unpleasant surprises, this would be their last extended stop before reaching the ranch.
He supposed he should be impatient to reach their destination—and he was tired of being in the car. But he couldn’t say he was looking forward to revisiting his past. Or to seeing Shane Walker again—which was definitely going to be awkward now, with the memory of making love with Molly so fresh in his mind.
The awareness that the journey’s end put him that much closer to parting with Molly nagged at the back of his mind, as well. He told himself he was ready to say goodbye—but deep inside, he knew that wasn’t true.
Chapter Ten
The lights were on inside Shane’s house as they passed it on the way to the main house. Molly had called a few minutes earlier to let her brother know they were close to arrival, so she knew Shane was watching to make sure they made it safely home. The windows of the building that served as the boys’ dormitory were also alight behind the blinds; the boys were all supposed to be inside at this hour, and it wouldn’t be long before lights out.
Lights were on at the main house, too, even though her parents were still away. Shane must have turned on the porch lights and a few lights inside for their benefit, so they wouldn’t have to return to a dark house.
She glanced at Kyle, trying to see his face in the pale green lights from the dashboard. She couldn’t quite read his expression. What was he thinking as he drove onto the ranch where he’d spent more than a year of his youth? Was he noting the changes or seeing it as it had been a decade earlier? Was he remembering the fun times he’d had here, or the unhappy circumstances that had brought him here in the first place?
“We’ve changed a few things since you lived here,” she said.
“So I see.” He nodded toward the dormitory, which had once been a barn. The new barn was now located behind the old one. “Shane’s house has a whole new wing on it, too.”
“Yes. He added that about five years ago.”
“You said there are four boys in residence now?”
“Right. Jacob, Colin, Elias and Emilio, who are brothers. They range in ages from eleven to seventeen.”
“And they all stay in that building?”
“The dormitory. Yes. There’s a very nice couple who live in one end of the building. Memo and Graciela Perez. They serve as dorm parents. Memo supervises the boys’ ranch chores and Graciela’s in charge of the kitchen and laundry. The boys take turns helping with those chores, too. They leave here completely prepared to take care of themselves.”
“Your mom made sure I could cook and clean for myself before I left here. Since I’ve been living on my own, I’ve put her lessons to good use.”
“She’ll be happy to know that.”
Following her instructions, he drove into the three-car garage and parked in her usual bay. He carried her crutches around to her side of the car and helped her out. The door that led into the kitchen opened just as Kyle closed the passenger door of her car.
Molly wasn’t particularly surprised that Shane had been waiting for them to arrive. As much as he’d tried to sound resigned to her encountering so many problems on her solo mission to Tennessee, she knew he must have been worried.
Though she was admittedly biased, Molly had always thought of her brother as one of the most handsome men she knew. A tall, lean cowboy, he had still-thick brown hair dusted at the temples with the merest hint of silver. His piercing blue eyes had been making feminine hearts flutter since he was fourteen, though the only females he had cared to charm lately had been his lovely wife, Kelly, and their adored young daughters.
Before he greeted their guest, Shane stepped forward and gave Molly a quick, but thorough, visual once-over, his attention lingering on her braced leg. “How bad is it?”
“Just a bad sprain,” she assured him gently, knowing he was genuinely concerned. “It hardly hurts at all.”
Her leg was actually throbbing from her toes to her hip, but he didn’t have to know that. She tilted her face up to kiss his cheek when he gave her a hug, even though she knew he was as tempted to yell at her as he was to embrace her.
Satisfied that she was in one piece, he turned to the man hovering self-consciously in the background. Molly stood aside as her brother looked Kyle over, much as he had her. “Hey, Kyle,” he said finally, as casually as if they had last seen each other only a few days before.
“Hey, Shane.” Kyle stuck out his right hand with a touch of shyness that Molly found endearing. She noticed with underlying amusement that Kyle’s own Texas accent had suddenly intensified now that he was back at the ranch.
“You’re looking good. I was really sorry to hear about your injuries.”
“Thanks. I’m almost back to full speed.”
“Glad to hear it. Here, let me help with the bags.” Clutching his own bag, Kyle gave Molly’s over to her brother, then followed as they turned to head inside.
Molly wondered if Kyle noted the changes that had taken place inside the house since he’d left. They had redecorated at least once since then, of course, though the furnishings were still simple, sturdy and homey. Cassie and Jared both liked satin-finished wood furniture and painted walls. Lots of green, their favorite color. Plenty of comfortable and inviting chairs. And framed photographs covering nearly every vertical and horizontal surface, documenting twenty-five years of marriage and family.
Covered dishes sat on the table when Molly entered the big, country kitchen. “Kelly thought you might be hungry when you got home,” Shane explained. “If you don’t want anything now, we’ll put this stuff in the fridge and reheat it tomorrow.”
“That was thoughtful of her. Tell her thanks for me.”
“She would have been here to greet you personally, but the girls are already in bed, so she’ll see you tomorrow.”
Though Shane suggested that Molly stay in her parents’ bedroom downstairs, she insisted she could handle the stairs to her own room. Now that she w
as home, she wanted her own things around her.
Leaving the crutches at the bottom of the stairs, she clung to the banister and made her way carefully up to the second floor. The walls of the stairwell served as a photo gallery, lined with dozens of framed portraits and snapshots. Molly was aware that Kyle studied those pictures as he followed her and Shane upstairs.
She wondered if he was searching for familiar faces. He had met most of her extended family during his stay here, since the Walker clan tended to congregate at the ranch at every opportunity. Of course, everyone had changed during the past dozen years.
Shane dropped Molly’s bag in her room, then turned to Kyle. “The room at the end of the hallway is still used as a guest room.”
It was the room that had been Kyle’s when he’d lived with them in the predormitory period, back when the ranch had housed only one foster boy at a time. Kyle nodded and followed Shane down the hallway, leaving Molly alone to freshen up.
She sat for a moment on the edge of her bed, reacclimating herself to being home. She had the oddest feeling that she had been gone longer than six days—and that she had returned a different person than she’d been when she left.
The room, itself, hadn’t changed, of course. An iron sleigh bed dominated her bedroom. She had used a hand-pieced Lone Star quilt in dark greens and burgundies on cream for a spread, pairing it with a cream dust ruffle and multiple pillows in coordinating colors. The hardwood floor was warmed by a couple of thick rugs. An antique chest and matching double dresser with a beveled glass mirror held her clothes and personal items, and an old wooden icebox served as her nightstand, holding a wrought-iron lamp, a telephone and a clock radio.
Other than a few scented candles and a couple of family photos in antique frames, she had kept ornamentation to a minimum. There were none of the stuffed animals or riding trophies or childishly handcrafted decorations that had overfilled her girlhood room. The only relic of her youth that hadn’t been packed away was a favorite antique doll that sat in an old wooden rocker in one corner of the moss-green painted room. A writing desk was tucked into another corner, holding her notebook computer, a small printer and a stack of books and supplies for tutoring the boys.