by Susan Fox
“And you’re different now?”
“Uh, maybe not.”
They were both quiet a moment, and then he said, “Jess, you should have told me.” His expression had gone cold. Bitter.
Why had she come? She was too tired to talk about this. “When I found out I was pregnant?” she asked defensively.
“Evan, I knew you didn’t want kids.”
He looked almost as exhausted as she felt. “That’s true. But I had the right to know.”
How could she argue with that? She shrugged helplessly, feeling overwhelmed. “I can’t do this. Not now. Please?”
After a moment he gave a grudging nod. “Okay. You’ve been through a lot tonight. And the other night, with Petula.”
Petula. Jess closed her eyes suddenly. Jesus, Robin could have died, too. She gulped against a surge of nausea.
A speeding car, a dark afternoon, rain, and she could have lost her precious daughter. She drew a breath and it came out as a choky sob. Unable to control the tears, she buried her face in her hands.
Strong hands touched hers gently and drew them away. Then Evan pulled her into his arms. “Hey, I’m sorry,” he murmured as she rested her face just over his heart and let soft terry cloth absorb her tears. His heartbeat was strong and regular, a soothing presence, just like the hands that stroked her back. And his voice, saying, “It’s okay now, Jess. Everything’s fine. Robin’s going to be all right.”
She lifted her head an inch. “I know, I really know. It’s just . . . relief, I guess.”
“You said she was awake and talking? What did she say?”
She gave a shaky smile. “She was mad at herself for being careless. Already thinking ahead to being back on her feet, back riding. It was such a relief to hear her sounding so normal.”
“Your parents know what’s going on? I didn’t see them at the hospital.”
“They were at friends’ playing bridge. I called them there. The doctor said they couldn’t visit Rob tonight, and Mom and I worry about Pa getting upset, so I told them not to come to the hospital. They’ll be there tomorrow.”
She frowned. “I want to be there, too, but it’s the guests’ last day at the Crazy Horse, and it’s not fair to make Madisun handle it all on her own.”
“Robin will probably sleep most of the day. Your parents will be there.”
“And Dave.”
“Yeah.”
“He’s with her now. He said Rob was right and I should go home and get some sleep, but I don’t see how I can.”
“Is he the only one who knows I’m, uh, Robin’s biological father?”
She pulled back in the circle of his arms and gazed up at him. “Yes. When I found out I was pregnant, he was the first person I told. When we decided to get married, we wanted Robin to know how much we both loved her. We didn’t want her—or anyone—having doubts. We wanted her to be secure in a happy, loving family.”
A corner of his mouth tilted down. “Yeah, I’d have wanted that for her, too. She’s a lucky girl.”
Jess could almost feel his pain. She knew him so well. He was thinking of his own parents. He was happy for Robin, but sad for himself and all he’d missed.
Something occurred to her and she stiffened. “Your parents denied you a happy childhood,” she said slowly.
He shrugged. “That’s old news. I’m long past it.”
She doubted it very much, but that wasn’t what was on her mind right now. “And then I denied you Robin. Yes, it was your right to know. I shouldn’t have decided for you.” Dang, she wasn’t saying this right. “Does that make any sense?”
“You’re beating yourself up because I’ve now struck out twice. I didn’t have a happy childhood, and I didn’t get to see my own daughter have a happy childhood.”
Her eyes flooded again. “And it’s my fault.”
He sighed. “I admit I was pissed when I found out, but I’ve also got to admit you were probably right. I didn’t want kids. God knows what I’d have done.”
Jess remained quiet, and he went on. “Okay, maybe your intentions were good. Mostly you wanted the best for Robin, and you gave it to her. I’m sure Dave made a better father than I ever would have.”
She winced. “I think you’d be a fantastic father.”
“Yeah, well . . . You’re my most loyal supporter. You always have been.”
That’s because I love you. The words leaped into her mind so forcefully she was scared she’d said them aloud.
She glanced at his face again, seeing how tired and sad he looked. He was suffering, and it was because of her. She’d do anything if she could take the pain away.
Yes, she loved him. Always had. Likely always would. How could she ever have fooled herself into thinking otherwise? She hid her face against his chest, afraid he might read the truth in her eyes.
He rested his chin on the top of her head. “Oh, Jess.”
“I should go.”
“You shouldn’t be driving. I’ll take you home. Or . . . you could stay here.”
“Stay?” Her voice quavered. What was he suggesting?
“We’re both exhausted. It’d be nice to hold each other. Maybe you’d get a little sleep.”
And suddenly Jess was so tired she couldn’t stay on her feet a moment longer. “Yes, please,” she murmured as her knees began to sag.
He scooped her up, carried her into the bedroom, and eased her onto the bed. “Is there anyone you need to call?”
“No. My folks think I’m at the hospital and Dave thinks I’m home sleeping.” She yawned widely. “I have his cell. He’ll call if anything happens.”
“Good.” He tugged her boots off, went to turn off the light, then came to lie beside her in the dark.
“Oh, yes,” she sighed as his body curved protectively around hers, fitting his front to her back. And just that quickly, she drifted off.
Jess woke as suddenly as she’d fallen asleep. Her clothing was too confining, she was thirsty, there was a warm presence at her back....
Her body froze as she catalogued the sensations. A delicious outdoorsy scent, the roughness of terry cloth, the whisper of breath against her neck. Evan. She was in Evan’s arms.
Robin! It all came back in a flash, and adrenaline surged. Dave’s cell phone was in her bag. Had it rung, and was that what had woken her?
Hurriedly, she scrambled off the bed. She heard Evan call her name as she darted into the living room and, by the light of moon and stars through the uncurtained windows, found her bag. She pulled out the phone and checked the display. No messages, thank God, and less than an hour had passed since she’d arrived at the cabin. Still, with the phone in her hand, she couldn’t resist calling the hospital.
A nurse reassured her Robin was fine, sleeping soundly. Dave was asleep, too, on a cot beside Robin.
“Everything all right?” Evan had come to join her.
“She’s fine.”
He stood in front of her, hair tousled, bathrobe askew. The man she loved. The man she’d made a baby—a wonderful daughter—with.
She knew what she wanted that night at Zephyr Lake. One perfect memory, before the boy she loved left town. But that memory had been ruined by his denial, his abandonment.
Now she knew with absolute clarity that she wanted the same thing again. Just one night.
She stepped forward and leaned against him, her mouth touching his chest. She didn’t kiss him, just rested her lips there, feeling the warmth of his skin, the sexy tickle of curls of hair. She blew a soft puff of air against him.
He gave a start. “Jess?”
She put her arms around him and, after a moment, his came up to circle her, holding her loosely, tentatively.
She thought about the fact that he was naked under the bathrobe. Thought about how amazing he’d looked, wet from the bath. Every cell in her body was aware of him.
And awareness was moving toward yearning. For him, too. Under the robe, she felt his arousal growing. She pressed her lower bod
y closer.
He sucked in a breath. “Jess?”
Her body flirted with his as she tilted her hips from side to side. She raised up slightly on her toes and pressed a kiss into the hollow between his collarbones. His pulse jumped erratically, and his hands found her backside and pulled her tight against him.
She loved him and she wanted him.
She eased away so she could look into his eyes. Before she could say anything, he leaned down and kissed her. It was like coming home. His lips were the perfect combination—soft yet firm, gentle yet demanding. They caressed, teased, and nibbled. Then his tongue stroked the crease between her own lips, and she opened for him—opening not just her mouth but her heart.
His body shuddered and, in response, hers did, too.
His tongue seduced hers in a mating dance that set her hips to moving in an echoing rhythm. Her jeans were too confining. She wanted to be rid of the restrictive denim. She wanted to free him from the bathrobe and feel every inch of his skin against hers.
But first she needed reassurance. “Ev? If we do this, promise me we won’t lose our friendship. It can’t be like last time.”
He shook his head. “It won’t be. I won’t lose you twice.”
She pulled back and fumbled with the belt of the robe. He’d secured it with a loop that pulled free easily. The strip of cloth fell to the floor. She yanked the robe apart and gazed her fill at his strong, beautifully masculine body.
After a few seconds he said, in a rough voice, “You just window shopping or did you want to try something on for size?”
“All of it. I want all of it.”
“Greedy,” he murmured, pulling her back into his arms.
The robe hung loose from his shoulders and she slipped her hands down to curve around that firm butt.
He reached for the front of her shirt.
“They snap,” she murmured.
“Hmm?”
“They’re not real buttons, they’re snaps.” She hooked one hand in the top of each half of her Western shirt, tugged gently, and the top snap popped open.
“Got it.” He moved her hands away and replaced them with his. His first tug was too gentle. He tried again and the next snap popped. He grinned.
Then he leaned down and kissed the bare skin he’d just revealed. He pulled open the snaps one by one—“Love this shirt”—and kissed, then licked, then kissed again. His lips and tongue blazed a path of fire straight down the center of her body, and she squirmed with need.
He pulled the shirt out of her jeans and finished unbuttoning it. Then he undid her belt and the button at her waist, eased the zipper down an inch, and tongued her navel.
Needing to feel his hardness against her again, she tugged on his hair, urging him to his feet. As he stood, she slid the robe from his shoulders.
She rose on tiptoe to rain kisses on his cheeks, his nose, finally his lips.
His mouth opened under hers and he kissed her hungrily. Then he broke the kiss and eased her down so she stood flat on the ground. He rested his lips against her forehead, and she felt warm air against her skin as he breathed in rough pants. His chest rose and fell against hers, both of them heaving as hard as if they’d just run a race.
He put his hands on her shoulders and separated their bodies. “Jess, are you sure? If we’re going to stop, we have to do it now.”
She felt glorious. He wanted her, unreservedly. Yes, this was the night she’d wanted when she was seventeen. Oh, Lord! “Tell me you have condoms.”
“Oh yeah, I have condoms.” He picked her up and swung her around. “How many do you want, Jess?”
She threw back her head and laughed. “That depends more on you than on me, doesn’t it, big boy?”
He put her down, but only to change his grip. He hoisted her into his arms as he’d done when he’d carried her to bed before, but this time she wasn’t the slightest bit sleepy. She savored every moment. It made her feel feminine, almost delicate. He was so much bigger than she was, so much stronger. She loved it.
“Caveman,” she purred as he strode toward the bedroom.
He growled in suitably primitive fashion and tossed her onto the four-poster bed. She bounced once, then settled into the softness of the duvet. When she tried to sit up, the puffy spread enveloped her like a cloud.
“Stay still,” he ordered as he pulled off one of her socks.
She grimaced. There was absolutely nothing erotic about old socks and sweaty feet.
But Evan apparently thought differently. His hands lingered on her right foot, the last one he’d desocked. He pressed gently, kneaded, massaged, and she groaned with pleasure. At the end of the day her feet always hurt, and this was sheer bliss. Almost, it distracted her from the ache between her thighs.
“Feel good?” he murmured.
“Mmm-hmm.” The bedroom was dim and she could barely see his face, but she thought he was smiling. “Do the other?”
“Your wish is my command.”
When he finished with her feet, she said, “Turn the lamp on. I want to see you.”
“Good idea.” He clicked the switch, then slid her jeans zipper the rest of the way down. She thrust her heels into the bed and raised her hips to help him pull the jeans off. Dang, how embarrassing. They were decorated with horse drool and other substances she’d rather not think about.
Evan didn’t show any signs of squeamishness as he slowly drew the denim down her thighs, over her knees, and finally pulled the jeans free of her body.
She watched him as he studied her. The dim golden light must have been flattering. His face told her he found her beautiful, even before he murmured, “God, but you’re lovely, Jess.”
She glanced down at her body and for a moment thought of Cynthia. Model thin, chic, and no doubt she had expensive, sexy lingerie.
Jess was lean enough, but muscular for a woman. Boring blue cotton sports bra and bikini panties. And, horror of horrors, stubble on her legs. Illuminated clearly by the lamplight. Why on earth had she asked him to turn on the light?
She glanced at his erection. It didn’t seem daunted by her stubble.
Oh yeah, this was why she’d wanted the light. So she could study his body, in all its perfection. She gave a little growl of desire. “You really have filled out, Evan Kincaid.”
“Like a puppy. I had big feet. You ought to have known I’d grow into them.”
“It’s not your big feet I’m interested in, buster. Come here.”
Obediently, he lay down beside her.
She turned on her side and her body met his with a soft impact that made her shudder with desire. Freed from denim, her lower body pressed firmly against his, with only a thin strip of cotton between them. She moved, jockeying for the perfect position where he could rub . . . Yes! Right there.
And then she remembered. “Condoms,” she murmured against his lips.
“Damn, I forgot.”
His struggle to rise as the duvet imprisoned him had her chuckling. When he went into the bathroom she climbed under the comforter, hiding her unshaven legs. She pulled the cover to her neck and smiled demurely up at him when he returned. He tossed a couple of packets onto the night table and lifted a corner of the duvet.
“Ready?”
“Yup.”
She expected him to slide in beside her, but instead he gave a mighty tug and hurled the whole duvet onto the floor. She gasped.
“Cold?” he asked.
“Freezing.” She fought the urge to hide those stubbly legs again. “I need a warm body. Can you find me one?”
He came to join her, both of them lying on their sides, and again their bodies came together, head to toe, in a lingering embrace. The fire, banked temporarily, restoked itself in a flash, and Jess moaned as she pressed against him. He pressed back, moving slowly against her, and tension built inside her.
He touched her breasts through cotton. Her nipples, hard and aching, strained for his caress. “Let’s take this off,” he murmured.
She sat up and raised her arms above her head as Evan kneeled beside her and slowly peeled her bra upward. He held the stretched cotton at shoulder level, imprisoning her. “Look at you. So beautiful.”
She glanced down. Saw breasts, stretched high and firm, with shameless nipples thrusting forward. Maybe she really was beautiful. “Just window shopping?” She repeated his words in a husky whisper, aiming for sultry and coming pretty darn close.
“I like window shopping when I know that, whenever I want, I can touch.”
“Touch?” She imagined his touch, and the ache between her thighs intensified.
“Ca . . . ress.” He drew the word out, itself a caress that made her skin tingle.
“Lick,” he murmured, and Jess realized her tongue was running across her lips as she watched his face.
His throat moved as he swallowed. “Suck.” It was the softest of whispers.
She squeezed her thighs tight. Could a woman come just from the sound of a man’s voice?
“I want you.” It was her own voice. She hadn’t even been aware of speaking.
“I want you, too.”
In a quick motion, he stripped her bra the rest of the way off. Then he lay her back on the bed, leaned over, and began to fondle her breasts, using his lips, his tongue, his breath, and driving her crazy.
Impatiently she reached down, needing to touch him and to inflict the same delirious pleasure and pain.
He pulled away. “Don’t. I’ll explode.”
She glared at him. “Well, I’m close, too, and you’re not showing me any mercy.”
He gave a rough chuckle. “I’m a man.”
“That was my theory. I was testing it out.”
“Oh, Jess, allow me some dignity.”
“Stop torturing me then.”
“Soon.”
He slid his hand down her belly and she tensed, expecting him to slip inside her panties. Instead he ran his hand over the outside and cupped her in his warm palm, his fingers firmly pressing the damp cotton between her legs.
“Evan!” she cried. “I want you inside me.”
At last he moved quickly, yanking off her panties and sheathing himself. In mere seconds he was sliding slowly and gently into her. Her slick, eager body took him in, reveling in the sensations. This was Evan. She could hardly believe it. But who else could make her feel this way?
