by Rachel Lee
Her thoughts stuttered between one breath and the next. He’d told her he wanted her. What kind of delusion was she feeding herself now?
“I need a drink,” she said and marched to the kitchen for a bottle of soda.
“I could do with something strong,” he remarked, following her.
“I don’t have anything. I don’t like liquor.”
“I meant coffee,” he retorted. “I’m not much of a drinker myself. I’ve seen too many problems arise from alcohol. So call me an occasional one-beer man.”
She screwed up her face. “No beer for me. I don’t like the taste.”
“Tsk,” he said, but she could tell he was teasing. Someone teasing her was a relatively rare experience. Probably her own fault. After all, she was far from the easiest person to get along with. So many hot buttons, who would dare?
She started the coffee and got herself a cola. She was oranged out for the day. Settling in at the table, with Flash beside her, she sipped from the bottle and thought about her reactions that day. One minute she was enjoying Cadell’s company, enjoying the dogs and—dare she admit it—amused by the ostriches, Itsy and Bitsy. Then she’d gone off like a rocket because he’d asked his colleagues to keep an eye out for developments with George.
“Why do you put up with me?” she asked bluntly. “I’m a pain.”
“True.” He leaned back against the corner while the coffeemaker hissed and streamed black brew. The corners of his eyes, however, were crinkled. “You don’t come close to Itsy and Bitsy, however.”
“What have those ostriches ever done to you?” Once again, amusement was trying to creep in. She decided to let it.
“They ate two of my favorite hats. Felt. Leather hat bands. Stretched just right to fit my head perfectly. I’m ashamed to admit that not until after they grabbed the second one did I realize it was going to be a continuing problem. I thought about getting a football helmet.”
At that she cracked a helpless laugh. “Why did they want the hats?”
“Ask them.” He shrugged. “Didn’t take them long to shred them, though. The goats aren’t nearly so bad.”
She straightened. “You have goats?”
“Sorta, but not exactly. I pasture them farther from the house for one of my neighbors. I don’t need them arguing with the birds or the dogs.”
“But the dogs could hurt them, too.”
He shook his head. “One of the ways I finish up training is by taking the dogs out to the goat pasture. A new distraction. If they can follow orders despite the goats, they pass.”
She shook head, feeling a smile tickle the edges of her lips. “I thought you weren’t ranching.”
“I’m not. I’ve got two birds and I provide grazing for a neighbor’s goats. That’s not ranching. Ask anyone.” The coffee had finished brewing and he snagged a cup from the cupboard to pour himself some. Then, at last, he gave her room to breathe again by coming to the table and sitting.
“The goats amuse me,” he said. “Last spring I headed out there with one of my dogs. There were lots of little kids gamboling about, but one of those damn adult goats had jumped up on the roof of the hay shed. I still can’t figure out how he got up there. I wonder if he was sick of all those noisy, excited kids. Or maybe he thought he was on guard duty. Anyway, I called my neighbor, asked what he wanted me to do about it.”
“And?” She was loving this.
“He said, ‘Damn goat got up there, he can get hisself down.’ Which he did by the next day.”
This was a whole part of the world she’d never been exposed to before, and it delighted her. Most of her life she’d lived in suburban or urban areas, and the last decade or so she’d pretty much become a troglodyte. Her graphics work endlessly fascinated her. It always offered a fresh challenge, and the amount of detail required kept her fully engaged.
But goats and ostriches? Her exposure had been one trip to a local zoo when she was ten, and she didn’t remember any ostriches.
For the very first time, she considered the possibility of remaining here, once her problems with George were behind her. There seemed to be a whole wealth of new experiences awaiting her, something she hadn’t thought about in a long time, if ever.
“You know,” she said slowly, wondering how she had come to trust him this much, “I’ve let George deprive me of too much. Even when he was in prison, he controlled my choices in a lot of ways. Made me avoid other people. Made me distrustful.” She paused then hit on the underlying truth. “It’s time I realized that he hasn’t been the one depriving me. I’ve made all the choices since he went to prison. He’s no Svengali, controlling me at a distance.”
She sighed and stared down at the table, at the familiar bottle of cola, and took a hard look at herself. “Plenty of people go through terrible things that leave deep and abiding scars. That doesn’t mean they quit. I’ve quit, Cadell.”
The chair creaked as he leaned forward and stretched out a hand, palm up. Uncertainly, she placed her hand in his. “You haven’t given up,” he said.
“What do you call it when I want to be a hermit? Betty’s the only person I’ve let get close to me in my entire life.”
“Including your godparents?”
“Including them. God, they gave me so much, and I gave almost nothing back, and now it’s too late. There were people in college who tried to be my friends, but I always pushed them back until they quit trying. I’ve made myself a nice, safe little world, but it’s far from complete.”
A few beats passed before he responded. “What made you think of that?”
“Goats. Ostriches. Dogs.” She shook her head and lifted her gaze to his. “It just struck me—I’m missing so many things by living in my little cave. It’s not that I don’t enjoy what I’m doing, because actually I do. But there’s so much more out there. Maybe I ought to make a little time for it.”
“You’ve been coming out to the ranch and working with me and the dogs,” he reminded her.
“It’s true. But that’s a baby step. Maybe I should meet my neighbors. Talk to that Marissa you mentioned earlier. Meet other people.”
“I’m not opposed to that, but I’d suggest you take it slowly.”
“But why?”
“You don’t want to overload yourself. You’re not used to a big social life, are you?”
“I’m used to words on a screen,” she admitted. “But maybe that’s not enough anymore.” Then she sighed. “Anyway, George.”
“George?”
“All these ideas about changing my life would be easier to implement if I didn’t have him hanging out there like an albatross around my neck.” The part of her that had been trying to expand pinched a little. She felt it happen. “He’s coming, Cadell. I think we both know that.”
He didn’t disagree.
“So all plans are on hold for now,” she said. “I’ve got to deal with him somehow. If he just wants money, he can have it. If he wants me dead...well, I don’t think I’m going to let that happen. So I’m going to stop hassling you about everything you do to try to help. I’m just sorry I’m taking over your life.”
His hand tightened around hers. “You’re not taking over anything. I’m exactly where I want to be.”
She half smiled without humor. “Cop?”
“Cop,” he answered. “But only partly. I also happen to like you. And yeah, you can be difficult, but who can’t? I’m the take-charge guy who’ll probably annoy you again. But unless you want to throw me out, this is where I’m staying.”
A warm rush of gratitude filled her. “You’re a nice guy, you know.”
“Don’t feed my ego.” Then he grew serious. “I mean it, Dory. I’m here because I want to be. And I do like you, thorns and all.”
“Why is that the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said
to me?”
“I can’t imagine. But it’s not sweet, it’s just true.” He paused. “I’m not one to shine people on. Never have been. If I have a problem with you, you’ll know it. And if I say I like you, I mean it.”
“Thank you.” But even as the warmth continued to remain with her, her mind insisted on jumping around, which wasn’t a usual state for her. She could summon a laser-like focus for hours when she needed it, and had long ago learned a reasonable control of her thoughts. That was what cognitive therapy was all about. Which was not to say she never slipped, and the news of George’s release had caused a big-time slip. She’d come running to the first offer of a haven like a scared mouse.
But now she was glad she had, because she would have missed a lot if she hadn’t.
“You’re never going to believe this,” she remarked, “but I like Itsy and Bitsy.”
He didn’t seem disturbed by her change of subject away from him liking her—a pregnant statement, full of possibilities she wasn’t ready to consider. Possibilities she somehow knew she was going to hug to herself, because she liked him, too.
“I don’t dislike them,” he answered. “We have a mutually irritable relationship.”
“Well, I’m not saying I want to pet either of them.” She summoned a smile. “What happened to your mother? You never mentioned her.”
“Where did that come from?” But he didn’t wait for an answer. “She died shortly after I was born. Some kind of infection.”
“I’m really sorry.”
He shook his head a little. “I never knew her, never knew what it was like to have a mother. Sometimes I wished I was like other kids, but mostly I just accepted it. My father took good care of me. He worked me hard on the ranch. But he still made space for me to have a social life when I was in high school. I guess I never thought about the work he must have been doing when I wasn’t there.”
“But he didn’t have a problem with you becoming a policeman?”
“If he did, he never let on. I may have mentioned it already, but by then he was winding the ranch down. Swore the land had more value than the livestock.”
“Did it?”
“I lease a lot of it, so yeah, I guess. But then I look at those dang ostriches and wonder if they weren’t a plot on his part to keep me rooted here. He was a great believer in roots. So am I, I guess. No regrets at all about coming back here.”
“Roots.” She spoke the word, feeling around it in her mind. “I’m not sure I really had any. Even when I was with my godparents. Uncle Bill, as I called him, was always being transferred. Sometimes we went with him if it was going to be a long stay, and sometimes Auntie Jane and I remained where we were. They did more of that when I was in high school. I guess they thought that was important.”
“Wasn’t it?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t make friends. Well, except for Betty. I met her in the high school in Saint Louis.”
“Well, I’m your friend now, so live with it.”
He was teasing her again, and she liked it. There was something so normal about it, a normalcy she’d avoided for years. Now that she was trying it on, a piece at a time, she was discovering that it was good.
She was acutely aware that these feelings were just a house of cards that would tumble the instant George arrived, but she couldn’t give up these moments.
“He stole too much from me,” she announced. Then, with a boldness she exhibited in her work, she rose and came to his side. “You busy tonight, Deputy?”
He looked up at her, his eyes narrowing. “I was planning on being here.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Then she opened the dam she’d built to avoid thinking about what she truly wanted and let the needs pour through her for the first time. She was done holding them at bay. Good experience or bad experience, she didn’t care. She was damn well going to have the experience.
“Come to bed with me,” she murmured. “Now.”
Chapter Eleven
Cadell froze, conflicting emotions welling up in him. He wanted this woman, no secret there, but he was also afraid of hurting her in some way. He wasn’t even sure why she was asking so boldly. Every time he’d thought he glimpsed heat in her gaze, she’d concealed it quickly. Even so, just a short time ago she’d been furious with him, and now this? What had brought it on?
Rising, he slipped his arms around her waist and felt a tremor pass through her. There was only one way to know. “Why?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head a little but didn’t draw away. “Is this the time for analysis?”
“I’m not asking for analysis. I want a reason. I’d like to know that you don’t want to use me to make you forget. I need to be more than that.”
“Nothing can make me forget,” she whispered. “But I’ve missed a whole hell of a lot because of that. I want you. I’ve wanted you for a while, but I kept coming up with reasons to tell myself no. I tried to bury it.” Her blue eyes opened and met his straightly. “I can’t bury it, Cadell.”
He supposed that was honest enough. And from the tightness of her whispered words, he sensed this honesty wasn’t easy for her. Why should it be? People talked easily about a lot of things, but sex seemed to be different. He’d also gathered that it was never easy for her to admit her own desires and needs, whatever they were.
Living in a cave hadn’t helped her to blossom in many ways. She was a flower in desperate need of some sunshine.
He leaned closer and brushed his lips against hers. “You should know I want you, too. I’ve mentioned it more than once. But it has to be good, Dory. Are you sure this is the right time for you?”
“There’ll never be a right time if I think about it too much. Cadell...”
These could be the tenderest moments between two human beings or they could become an ugly mistake. He wanted her more than he could say, but he needed to protect her, too.
So do that and quit being a jerk. See where it leads. Satisfy her in every way.
And to hell with his qualms. If regret were coming, it was going to have to wait a few hours.
He kissed her again, pushing his tongue a little past her lips until it met the gate of her teeth. Another shiver passed through her, then she let her head fall back and her mouth open. She hadn’t changed her mind.
For right now, that was all he needed.
Flash stood up as Cadell swept Dory up into his arms. “Darlin’, could you tell your watchdog to stay?”
Dory quickly clasped her arms around Cadell’s neck and spoke thickly. “Flash, stay. Guard.”
“You could sound like you mean it,” Cadell remarked as he easily carried Dory the short distance to her bedroom.
“He better not get in the way,” Dory mumbled. “You’d think he’d understand he doesn’t need to guard against you.”
“He does.” He’d made sure of that over the past week. He just hadn’t wanted the dog in here, where he might misinterpret something as play to join.
He set Dory down slowly, sliding her along the entire length of his body. She inhaled sharply as she felt him hard against her. No secret about his desire anymore. The pressure even through his jeans made him want to groan. He reminded himself to take his time, to make sure she could savor every sensation. Then thought started to slip from his grasp as she reached down and touched him through the denim.
“Mmm,” she murmured.
He had this thing in his head, where he undressed a woman, then himself. Where it had come from, he had no idea, but it now completely vanished. She reached for the snaps on the front of his shirt and ripped them open ruthlessly. Then her soft, small hands began to explore his chest, sending shafts of pleasure through him with each stroke, each caress, even each pause as she learned his contours.
When she brushe
d over his small nipples, he was unable to repress a shudder.
“You, too?” she murmured. Before he could respond in any way, she’d leaned forward and taken him into her mouth, licking and sucking until the drumbeat in his head grew deafening.
Not only was this woman an angel, she was also a witch. A very talented witch with her tongue. Then she gave him a gentle nip, and he jerked.
He looked down at her, and there was no mistaking that pleased, sleepy smile. “Happy with yourself, huh?” he asked, his voice low. He was now sure he wasn’t dealing with a totally inexperienced woman, which removed his last inhibition.
Oh, this was going to be good.
Reaching out, he grabbed the bottom of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head. Amazement grabbed him as he discovered a lacy bra, not at all what he would have expected. Delightfully, it pushed up the globes of her breasts invitingly.
Bending his head, he kissed the top of each breast, then ran his tongue lightly over her skin. A soft moan escaped her. Then, with a twist of his hand, he found the back clasp and released it.
At once the bra gave up its control, but before he could slide it away, Dory did so. She stood before him in the dim light from the hallway, making no attempt to conceal herself from his gaze. Instead she took his hands and pressed them to her breasts, then leaned in again to suck on his small nipples.
As he massaged her breasts, trying to judge her response by her soft moans, he felt her hands reach for the snap on his jeans. So that was how it was going to be?
Thrilled, he reached for her jeans, too. With almost surprising speed, underwear and denim fell to the floor.
Now the damn shoes. He pushed her down so that she sat on the edge of the bed, then squatted to remove her tennis shoes, her socks and the last of her jeans.
A giggle escaped her, surprising him.
