Duty Or Desire (The Westmoreland Legacy Book 5)

by Brenda Jackson

  He also knew something else. This was the first time he had mentioned Ellen’s name to anyone without a feeling of deep pain in his heart, without bitter agony settling into his every pore. And without the need to look back and cling to those memories of her.

  What could that mean? He needed time to himself to think through some things, possibly resolve issues within himself. Pushing his plate back, he said, “Dinner was great, Myra. Look, I need to go check on a few things and meet with my foreman so I might be a while.”

  “Okay.”

  He then left the kitchen, grabbing his Stetson off the rack on his way out the door.

  * * *

  Myra watched Pete leave and released a breath when she heard the sound of the door closing. She felt bad for him and regretted that she had reopened wounds for him. Bonnie had already told her how he’d lost his fiancée, so why had she wanted to hear it from him?

  It had been heartbreaking. After twelve years he still hadn’t gotten over her death.

  She glanced over at Ciara and the mess she’d made. At least she hadn’t gotten any food in her hair and hadn’t thrown any off her plate. She had eaten every single bite. Myra got up from the table. It was time to clean up the kitchen and then clean up Ciara.

  She didn’t have time to consider the feelings Pete’s story raised.

  A couple hours later she was done with both and yet Pete still hadn’t returned. His truck was still parked outside, which meant he hadn’t left the property, but he could very well have gone off on horseback after meeting with his foreman. Holding Ciara closer to her chest, she moved away from the window. The only thing they could do now was to wait for him to return.

  * * *

  It was getting dark and Pete knew it was time to head Satin back toward home. The ride had done him good since he’d needed to clear his head about a few things.

  He had loved Ellen since he’d discovered what love was. They’d been so close and had known what they wanted out of their lives. He’d looked forward to their wedding day as much as she had because he’d seen it as the start of what would be the best days of their lives.

  And then all his hopes and dreams, his future, had ended because of someone’s cold-bloodedness. It had taken years to stop blaming himself, but there were times when his mind would play the “if only” game.

  He closed his eyes and tried to remember their last days together. As time passed it was getting harder and harder to recapture the memories and that bothered him. Then he’d had that dream, the one where she’d come to him as if to free him. He hadn’t liked it and he’d fought the meaning behind it.

  Until Myra walked into his kitchen.

  He hadn’t expected the emotions he’d felt that day or since. He hadn’t known he was capable of finding another woman as desirable as Ellen. Nor had he known he could dream of Myra while fighting to keep Ellen in his heart. He’d found the attempt exhausting. Did that mean it was time to move on?

  What had Bonnie said? That he’d been breathing and not living? He could now say that she’d been right about that. He’d made love to women to release primitive urges and nothing more. However, being around the Westmorelands on Thanksgiving and seeing how happy they were with their spouses had made him wish for things that he had turned his back on. Things that deep down he knew Ellen would want him to have, even without her.

  During dinner he and Myra had shared a real conversation over a meal. He had enjoyed talking to her, listening to what she had to say. Looking at her. Noticing how she was looking at him. He figured she had no idea what that look had done to him. How his blood had stirred each and every time he’d caught her staring.

  He had desired her from the start, but according to her he wasn’t her type. He was older than the men she normally dated.

  Maybe Zane was right and he should take her words as a challenge, especially knowing how she’d been sneaking those looks at him. He smiled as he headed Satin back toward home.

  Myra Hollister had no idea that things were about to get interesting in the Higgins household.

  * * *

  Myra glanced at the clock when she heard the sound of Pete returning. He’d been gone for nearly four hours. She had gotten Ciara ready for bed and rocked her to sleep, singing the song Pete usually sang.

  Instead of going to bed herself she decided to wait up for him to apologize. It was her fault he’d had to talk about his fiancée. Needing to see him before he went to his bedroom, she walked out of the kitchen.

  “Pete?”

  He turned and she could tell he was surprised to see her. Even though it was still pretty early, usually after making sure Ciara was tucked in for the night, she would escape to her bedroom and watch television until falling asleep.

  “Yes?”

  “I want to apologize.”

  He lifted a brow. “Why? What did you do?”

  She nervously licked her lip. “I made you talk about something that brought back painful memories for you.”

  “You don’t have anything to apologize for, Myra.”

  “I feel like I do.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t. Is Ciara asleep now?”

  “Yes.”

  She could tell from his expression that he regretted not being there to put his niece to bed. “You missed dessert,” she told him.

  “Did I?”

  “Yes.”

  “What was it?”

  “Peach cobbler.”

  He nodded. “I love peach cobbler.”

  “I used those peaches Bonnie told me about in the freezer.”

  He nodded. “It’s not too late. I think I’ll have some cobbler now,” he said, walking toward her. When he got close, she moved out of his way so as not to block the entrance.

  Instead of passing by, he stopped. He stood right in front of her, and the way the lamp shone on them, she could look deep into his eyes.

  “I don’t bite, you know,” he said.

  She wasn’t so sure about that. She could feel the essence of him in every pore, nerve and pulse. “Yes, I know you don’t.”

  He was still looking at her, not having moved an inch. She was about to tell him good-night when he said, “Come eat some cobbler with me.”

  Not sure she’d heard him correctly, she said, “You want me to eat some cobbler with you?”

  The corners of his mouth edged up, displaying that smile that did crazy things to her. “Yes. If you don’t, I might end up eating the entire pan myself. I need you to stop me if I try doing such a thing.”

  She couldn’t hold back a grin. “You love peach cobbler that much?”

  “Afraid so. Bonnie didn’t warn you?”

  “She did mention it was your favorite.”

  “It’s more than my favorite. It’s one of those things you can become addicted to if you aren’t careful.”

  She doubted he knew that he was effectively pushing her buttons and making her wonder just what other things he could become addicted to if he wasn’t careful. She was standing there imagining a lot of things and when his gaze dropped to her mouth, the hormones in her body seemed to burst to life. “That sounds like a big problem for you, Pete.”

  “It is, so will you join me in the kitchen to make sure I don’t overdo it?”

  Myra nervously licked her lips. Things were getting pretty hot here in the living room and she didn’t want to think what the temperature might be in the kitchen. Honestly, she should have the good sense to tell him that his eating habits weren’t her concern, but that would be a lie. Hadn’t she made sure all his meals were healthy ones?

  Not that he looked out of shape or anything. If he looked any more in shape, she would go bonkers.

  “Since you presented it that way, then I guess I will,” she said. Turning, she went to the kitchen, knowing he was following her.

  Six

&nbs
p; “That’s it, Peterson Higgins—no more. You’ve had three servings already,” Myra said, laughing, as she guarded the pan of peach cobbler on the counter. “I thought you were joking about eating the entire pan.”

  He stood in front of her, grinning from ear to ear. “You should not have baked it so well. It’s delicious.”

  “Thanks, but flattery won’t get you any more peach cobbler tonight. You’ve had your limit.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “I could have you arrested, you know.”

  Crossing her arms over her own chest, she tilted her chin and couldn’t stop grinning. “On what charge?”

  The charge that immediately came to Pete’s mind was that she was so darn beautiful. Irresistible. But he figured that was something he could not say. He enjoyed this playful side of her and would admit to enjoying this spirited side of himself, as well.

  It had started out with them sitting down and eating the cobbler and him commenting on how good it tasted. That got her to talking and she told him about those weekends she’d spent with Ms. Miller and that one of the things they did was watch old movies and how much she enjoyed it. He tried to remember the last time he’d watched a movie. A new one or an old one.

  She snapped her fingers in front of his face to reclaim his attention. “If you have to think that hard about a charge, then that means there isn’t one.”

  “Oh, there’s one, all right. How about harboring someone else’s property?”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “How about it? Do you honestly think you can make that charge stick?”

  “Oh, you’ll be surprised what all I can do, Myra.”

  She tilted her head to the side as if to look at him better. “Do tell, Pete.”

  Her words—those three little words—made a full-blown attack on his senses. He drew in a shaky breath, then touched her chin. She blinked, as if startled by his touch. “How about ‘do show,’ Myra?”

  Pete watched the way the lump formed in her throat and detected her shift in breathing. He could even hear the pounding of her heart. Damn, she smelled good, and she looked good, too. Always did. He’d noticed the leggings and pullover sweater when he’d arrived home earlier. She looked comfortable and sexy as hell.

  “I’m not sure what ‘do show’ means,” she said in a voice that was as shaky as his had been.

  He tilted her chin up to gaze into her eyes, as well as to study the shape of her exquisite pair of lips. “Then let me demonstrate, Ms. Hollister,” he said, lowering his mouth to hers.

  The moment he swept his tongue inside her mouth and tasted her, he was a goner. It took every ounce of strength he had to keep the kiss gentle when he wanted to devour her mouth with a hunger he felt all the way in his bones. A part of him wanted to take the kiss deeper, but then another part wanted to savor her taste. Honestly, either worked for him as long as she felt the passion between them.

  He had wanted her from the moment he’d set eyes on her, but he’d fought the desire. He could no longer do that. He was a man known to forgo his own needs and desires, but tonight he couldn’t. Not when they were out of control. She might deny it, but he could tell from the way she was responding to him that need was driving her just as much as it was driving him.

  He heard her moan and the sound sent even more heat spiraling through him. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her closer, loving the feel of her body pressed against him. It was as if she was melting into him. It had been a long time since he’d tasted this much passion in a woman. He doubted she knew just how potent she was, just how she was driving him to the brink. It was as if he couldn’t taste her enough, hold her close enough. He wanted to absorb her into his skin, his entire body, as their tongues tangled.

  Knowing if he didn’t stop kissing her now he would have her spread out on the counter, he ever so slowly broke off the kiss. But not before swiping another lick across her lips with his tongue. Whispering close to her ear, he said, “Peach cobbler isn’t the only thing I could become addicted to, Myra.”

  Then, taking a step back, he dropped his hands to his sides and stared at her. She wore passion well. “Don’t cook dinner tomorrow. I’m taking you and Ciara out.”

  “Oh.”

  He dragged in a deep breath, pulling the luscious scent of her through his nostrils. “I’ll check on Ciara before going to bed.”

  “Okay. Good night.”

  “Good night, Myra.” Pete turned to leave the kitchen and as hard as it was for him to do so, he didn’t look back.

  * * *

  Myra somehow made it to a chair and sat down at the table before her legs gave out. She’d been kissed before, but never like this. Never with slow, seductive strokes. He’d taken her mouth in a way that seemed effortless yet unquestionably thorough. And she had accepted the stroking of his tongue with ease, as if she’d known it would spread through her bloodstream. And when he’d finally lifted his mouth from hers, she’d wanted to cry in protest.

  Drawing in a ragged breath now, she heard the sound of Ciara’s door closing and knew he had left his niece’s room. Would he go on to his room like he’d said he would, or would he come back into the kitchen to give her another mind-drugging kiss? Did she want him to? She held her breath, wondering what move he would make, and released it when she heard the sound of his bedroom door opening and then closing. He hadn’t just kissed her; Pete had devoured her mouth in a way that still had her head spinning.

  Standing, she got busy and covered the rest of the peach cobbler and put it in the refrigerator. She wanted to be in her bedroom with the door closed just in case Pete did decide to come back. He said he didn’t bite, but he did a good job of licking and sucking.

  And the kiss had gone on and on. It’d seemed neither of them had wanted it to end. She’d become enamored with his taste. He obviously knew what he was doing, and she’d merely followed his lead while his mouth and tongue coaxed hers into moaning.

  Just thinking about it now was increasing the beat of her heart and had erotic awareness curling her stomach. Tonight, she had undergone a sexual revelation, instigated by a man she’d initially decided wasn’t her type and was older than those she would normally date.

  Date? Now, that was a laugh. When was the last time she’d gone out with anyone other than Wallace? And just like she’d told Pete, Wallace was more like a brother to her than Baron ever had been.

  Moments later, after tidying up the kitchen, she headed down the hall to her bedroom. Once inside, she leaned against the closed door and touched her lips, still feeling a tingling sensation there.

  She had to put Pete and that powerhouse of a kiss out of her mind and move forward on the resolve that it couldn’t happen again. No matter how enjoyable it had been. She would get a good night’s sleep and hopefully in the morning she would be able to think straight.

  * * *

  “So, how’s that new nanny working out for you, Sheriff?”

  Pete rubbed his eyes as he glanced up from the computer screen. He’d been rewatching the video Ms. Katherine had given him. Although it was a long way from being 4K ultra HD, he could still detect a willowy feature that seemed to be floating around her backyard. He and his men had agreed there was definitely something there; they just didn’t know what.

  His gaze lit on the man standing in the doorway of his office. Pete and Detective Lewis Tomlin had grown up together in Denver. They had started the police academy at the same time, and then Lewis left to work as an FBI agent for a couple of years. “She’s working out just fine, Lewis,” he said, leaning back in his chair with the palms of his hands bracing against his neck. “She’s doing a great job taking care of Ciara and she’s a darn good cook. Thanks for asking.”

  He knew the questions should end there but wouldn’t. Lewis’s grandmother was one of Ms. Katherine’s cronies, so Pete was sure he’d heard something. It didn’t take long to find out
what. “I heard she’s pretty.”

  Yes, she was definitely that, Pete thought. She was pretty and tasted like heaven on earth. He’d had to force himself to get that kiss they’d shared out of his mind. He had gone to bed thinking of it, had dreamed sweet dreams reliving it, and had awakened that morning yearning for another.

  “You heard right,” he said, seeing no reason to lie about it.

  “Heidi and I would like to meet her.”

  Pete frowned. “Why?”

  “She’s only with you temporarily, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, we hear she has a ton of experience taking care of kids. She might come in handy.”

  Pete lifted a brow. “You’re looking for a nanny?”

  Lewis chuckled. “No, but Heidi and I are planning to get away for a few days by ourselves and are looking for someone to keep the kids for us.”

  “When are you planning this trip for?” Pete asked him.

  “The second week in January. We want to head up to Aspen for some skiing.”

  “Sorry, but she won’t be around. She plans to leave sometime around the holidays to return south.”

  “Well, if she changes her mind let me know.”

  “I will.”

  Lewis moved on and Pete thought about their conversation. Specifically, the part about Myra leaving. Why was the thought a downer? He shook his head, deciding not to dwell on that. What he wanted to do was think about that kiss some more, how easily their mouths had fit together.

  He had left her a note on the kitchen table this morning with directions to McKays, deciding to give her a little break from being in the kitchen tonight. She deserved it. He’d taken Bonnie out to dinner with him and Ciara plenty of times. No big deal. But deep down he knew it was a big deal. At the end of her stay in Denver he wanted her to reach the conclusion that he was her type and not too old for her to date.