Rumor Has It

by Maureen Child

  “What are you doing, Nathan?”

  “Remembering,” he said, his gaze fixed on the scene laid out in front of them. Then he turned those eyes on her. “Since you’ve been back I’ve been doing a lot of that.”

  “Me, too.”

  “And you remember what happened here?”

  “Not likely to forget,” she said with a lightness she didn’t feel.

  “Good,” he said and took her hand again, drawing her toward the scene so meticulously laid out.

  It really didn’t matter, but she heard herself ask, “Who did all of this?”

  “Louisa,” he told her just before he eased down to the quilt and drew her down beside him. “She probably had Henry drive her out here and help, but she packed the cooler and set everything up.”

  Louisa Diaz, the housekeeper at Battlelands. She’d been running that ranch house for twenty years. Of course Nathan would go to her for help. “Wasn’t she curious about why you wanted this set up?”

  “If she was, she’d never admit it,” he said, opening the cooler to draw out a bottle of chilled white wine. He poured two glasses and handed her one. “We’ve got strawberries and whipped cream and some of Louisa’s famous pecan cookies, too.”

  She stared at the golden liquid in her glass. She was still off-kilter. He’d gone to so much trouble, setting all of this up, it made her wonder what was behind it all. Just memories? Or was there something more? “It seems you’ve thought of everything.”

  “I think so.”

  “The question remains,” she said. “Why?”

  He sighed heavily, impatiently. And suddenly he seemed more like the Nathan she’d been dealing with since returning to Royal rather than the younger man she’d given her heart to.

  “Does there have to be a reason? Can’t we just enjoy it?”

  Enjoy it. Reliving a memory that was so cherished it still haunted her dreams? Remember a time when she’d had the world at her fingertips—only to lose it a year later? Pain floated just beneath the surface and Amanda had to fight it back. If she knew what he wanted, expected, maybe this would be easier. But because she couldn’t read him, she was left to stumble around in the dark. She took a sip of wine, letting the dry, icy flavor ease the tightness in her throat.

  Silence blossomed between them and seemed to grow unchecked for what felt like an eternity before Nathan spoke, shattering the stillness.

  “There’s no great plan here, Amanda.” His voice was deep, and each word seemed to rumble along her spine. “I just wanted to bring you to a place where we could talk.”

  “And you chose here.”

  A flicker of a smile touched his mouth then faded almost instantly. “You’re not the only one who remembers, you know. This was a good spot for us, once.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, her own voice sounding strained and rough. “It was. But Nathan—”

  He shook his head. “But nothing. We’re here. We’ll talk. Have dessert. Relax, Amanda.”

  Relax?

  This from the most tightly wound man she’d ever known?

  She looked into his brown eyes and tried to see beyond what he was showing her. But he’d clearly gotten more adept over the years at hiding what he was thinking, feeling, and Amanda was left to take him at his word. Dangerous? Maybe.

  But she couldn’t ask him to take her home now. She’d look as though she were afraid to be here alone with him and she wouldn’t give him that much power. Besides, she could consider this a test of her own resolve. If she and Nathan were going to live here in Royal together, then she had to get past the desire that swept through her every time he was near. She could hardly live her life in a constant state of expectation.

  “Okay,” she said at last, taking another sip of her wine. “We’ll talk.”

  He gave her a quick, disarming grin that jolted her heartbeat into a thundering gallop and she knew that for her, at least, there wouldn’t be any relaxing happening tonight.

  “I came better prepared this time, too,” he said and reached behind the cooler for a small, battery-operated radio. He turned it on and a woman’s voice soared into the shadows, singing of love. “Remember the battery on my old truck died that night? Left the radio playing too long and we had to use the ranch walkie-talkie to get Henry to come out and give us a jump?”

  She remembered. She also remembered the knowing look Henry had given the two of them. But the ranch foreman hadn’t said a word. He’d only gotten Nathan’s truck running again and then left.

  “That was embarrassing,” she said with a sad smile.

  “It was,” he agreed, then gave her another quick grin. “But it was worth it.”

  Her hand tightened on the slender base of the crystal wineglass. Nathan was pushing past all of her defenses, one smile at a time.

  She turned away from him and looked out over the river. At its widest point, it was no more than six feet across, but it was a wild river, fed from the distant mountains and left unchecked. The water frothed on the surface, slapping against the banks and over rocks worn smooth over time. While she watched, a trout jumped from the water only to splash back down. Wind sighed through the trees, rattling the leaves.

  It was perfect.

  A summer night, with the stars overhead. Soft music playing accompaniment to the roar of the river and the man who had been the great love of her life at her side. How many times had she wished for just this over the years?

  She looked at Nathan as he reached into the cooler and pulled out two cookies. Handing one to her, he smiled and said, “You always did like Louisa’s pecan cookies.”

  Her heart fisted in her chest. He looked so damn…harmless. And he so wasn’t.

  “You’re evil,” she said, nipping the cookie from his fingers and taking a bite.

  He nodded. “You used to like that about me.”

  “There are a lot of things I used to like.”

  “But not anymore.” The words were clipped. Cool.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Didn’t have to,” he told her and then shrugged as he took a bite of his cookie. “I feel the same way.”

  “Good to know,” she muttered, as her foolishly hopeful heart sunk a little in her chest.

  “Things’ve changed,” he said.

  “If that’s what you brought me out here to tell me,” Amanda said, “you wasted your time. I already knew that.”

  “But the thing is,” he said, as if she hadn’t spoken at all, “some things don’t change.”

  He reached out and stroked the tip of his fingers down the back of her hand and along her arm. Amanda shivered.

  “Not fair.” She pulled her hand free of him and dropped the cookie to the quilt before she stood up and moved to the edge of the river.

  Music continued to sail into the deepening night. The river rushed on and, above her, the stars were glittering against the dark sky.

  She heard him stand, then walk up behind her. When his hands dropped onto her shoulders, she was already braced for the heat that poured from his body into hers.

  “Why the hell should I play fair?” he demanded and turned her around to face him.

  “Why are you playing at all?” she countered and waited, watching his features in the indistinct light.

  “Because I can’t get you out of my head,” he admitted, his voice harsh and deep, as if it were crawling up from the center of him.

  If he could admit at least that much, then she could, too. “I feel the same way.”

  He slid his hands up and down her upper arms as if chasing away a chill she didn’t have. In fact, she was so hot at the moment, she couldn’t imagine ever being cold again.

  Amanda took a breath, tipped her head back to look up at him and said, “Wine. Cookies. Music.” She waved one hand at th
e frothy river beside them. “This place. What is it you want, Nathan? Truth.”

  “Truth.” He tasted the word as if trying to decide if he liked the idea of it or not. Finally, though, he nodded and said, “Truth is, Amanda, there’s a lot of history between us and until we get it sorted out, life in Royal’s going to be harder than it has to be for both of us.”

  Disappointment flashed through her before she could stop it. Of course that’s why he’d done all this. To soften her up. To make her malleable enough to agree to however he wanted to handle things. So much for change, she thought glumly.

  “We’ve already had our ‘talk,’ Nathan.”

  “Yeah, we did,” he agreed. “But it wasn’t enough.”

  She pulled away from him and walked even closer to the river’s edge, where spray reached up from the water’s surface to kiss her skin. She turned her face up to the sky and fixed her gaze on one star in particular. It was a focus point, to center her thoughts, to gather her frazzled nerves.

  She didn’t want to talk about the past anymore. It only brought pain. Still watching that star, she asked, “What more is there to say, Nathan?”

  She heard him move to stand behind her again. She felt the heat of his body reaching out for hers. Felt the frisson of something incredible that she always felt when close to Nathan.

  Once again, his hands came down on her shoulders and a whip of electricity snaked through her in an instant. She closed her eyes and took a breath to steady herself—an idea that went to hell the moment he started speaking. “Can we leave the past where it is, Amanda? Live here in town without going back there?”

  “I want to,” she said and it was the truth. The past was pain and she’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.

  “Then we make a pact. We deal with the present. Starting fresh.”

  “Just like that?” Was it even possible? she asked herself.

  “Won’t be easy,” he admitted, “but it’s easier than hauling the past around with us wherever we go.”

  It sounded good, but she wasn’t as sure as he was that it could be done. But, talking with him, being with him, without the hurtful memories, was worth taking the chance.

  “A pact,” she agreed and held out one hand.

  He looked at it, smiled, then took her hand in his, smoothing his fingers over her knuckles. His voice was soft, low and as mesmerizing as the rush of the river below.

  “You’re still in my blood, Amanda.”

  Her heart jumped into high gear and she swayed on her feet. But his hands only tightened on her shoulders. He bent his head until his mouth was beside her ear. His voice came again and his warm breath dusted her skin.

  “I think about you. Dream about you. Want you.”

  “Nathan…” Her blood felt as if it were bubbling in her veins.

  He spun her around, pulled her close and took her right hand in his left. Confused, Amanda only stared at him, until he said, “Dance with me.”

  He didn’t give her a chance to answer. To decide yes or no. Instead, he began to sway to the music and she let herself move with him. He held her tightly, her body pressed along the length of his and she felt…everything, just as he’d wanted her to.

  Her body lit up inside as desire pulsed like a beacon deep within her. He must have sensed it. Must have felt her body’s surrender because he dipped his head to steal a hard, fast kiss that left her reeling.

  “Tell me you don’t the feel the same damn thing,” he demanded.

  Amanda knew that if she looked into his eyes again, the very foundation of what little self-control she’d managed to cling to would be shaken. But she couldn’t resist. Couldn’t deprive herself of the chance to see those dark brown eyes flashing with need again.

  The moment she did, she felt herself falling into a whirlwind of emotion. Long-buried feelings resurfaced with a vengeance and were tangled up with something new. Something still fragile, but so much deeper than anything she’d known before.

  Their dance ended abruptly. He shifted his grip on her, sliding his hands up to cup her face. His thumbs traced the edges of her cheekbones and his gaze moved over her features hungrily. She felt every nerve in her body leap to attention. Every square inch of her wanted him so desperately she trembled with the need.

  It would be so easy to give in, she thought wildly as she lost herself in the dark chocolate of his eyes. To surrender to her body’s demands. To push away the past and think only of the now. But where would that put them? Where would they go from here?

  “Nathan, this is crazy….”

  “Nothing wrong with crazy,” he murmured and leaned in to leave a light-as-a-feather kiss on her forehead.

  She swallowed hard. “But if we do this—it will only make living in this town together harder.”

  He snorted a laugh. “I can’t get much harder.”

  “Oh, God.” Her breath caught in her lungs as he pulled her in close to him. Close enough to discover that he was right. Much harder and he’d turn to stone.

  A burn started low and deep within her, spreading with a swiftness that made her feel as if she had a sudden fever. A fever only Nathan could assuage.

  Shaking her head both at her own thoughts and at him, she pulled free and took a staggering step backward just for an extra measure of safety. Not that she was afraid of Nathan. No, she was more afraid that her good intentions would be blown out of the water by her own need.

  “Damn it, Amanda,” he said roughly. “You want this, too. I can feel it.”

  “Yes,” she admitted when she could talk around the knot lodged in her throat. “I do. But I’m not going to do it.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because it wouldn’t solve anything, Nathan.”

  He threw both hands high and wide then let them fall to his sides again. “Why the hell does it have to solve anything? We’re not kids anymore. Can’t it just be what it is and leave it at that?”

  “Not between us,” she said, a little steadier now that he wasn’t touching her. “It’s never simple between us, Nathan, and you know it.”

  He shoved both hands into his jeans pockets and let his head fall back briefly as if looking for patience in the wide Texas sky above them. When he looked at her again, he said, “You can’t let go of the past, can you?”

  Bristling a little, she countered, “Can you?”

  Shaking his head, he pulled one hand free of his pocket and ran it over his face. “Not entirely, no.”

  “Then how can us sleeping together help?”

  “How can it hurt?” he argued.

  “Nathan, sex doesn’t solve a problem, it only creates new problems.”

  “Maybe that’s enough for now,” he said tightly.

  “Not for me,” she answered.

  “What the hell do you want, then?”

  A thousand disjointed thoughts swept through her mind in one confusing instant. What did she want? Him, mostly. She’d tried to fool herself into believing that she just wanted to move on. To find a new man and build a life with him.

  But there were no other men for Amanda. There was only Nathan, now and always. She wanted what they hadn’t had before. Trust. Love. A future. And she knew Nathan wasn’t interested in anything like that.

  So that left her exactly where?

  Alone, she thought. She’d be alone.

  He closed the gap between them in one long stride and grabbed her up close again. Here was the danger, she thought. Feeling him pressed close to her, knowing that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. But want wasn’t enough, as they’d already discovered.

  “Don’t make this harder,” she whispered.

  “Why should I make it easy?” he asked.

  She looked up at him and when he kissed her, Amanda lost herself in him. His mo
uth covered hers with a fierce tenderness that quickly became a dance of desperation. Their tongues met again and again, stroking, caressing, tasting. Hunger built and spread, wrapping them both in a wash of heat that was inescapable. His hands swept up and down her back and finally came to rest on her behind. He held her tightly to him and ground his hips into hers. She gasped and lifted one leg instinctively, wrapping it around his thigh, trying, but failing to bring him even closer.

  His mouth continued to overwhelm her and all of Amanda’s good intentions were swept away on a tide of passion too staggering to fight. Her mind splintered under the onslaught of too many sensations. It had been so long, was her only coherent thought. So long since she’d felt his hands on her body, his breath on her face. How could she not have him? What did it matter what happened tomorrow, if tonight, she could have this?

  One of his strong hands held her thigh up along his hip, his fingers digging into her flesh. With his free hand, he lifted the hem of her skirt, then slipped his hand beneath the hem of her panties and down to the trembling, heated core of her.

  At the first brush of his fingers, Amanda gasped, and tore her mouth from his. Reeling, she tipped her head back and stared into his eyes as he stroked her hot, damp center. His brown eyes were flashing with fire and need. His breath came as fast and sharp as hers. Her fingers clutched at his shoulders, as she fought for balance and for the orgasm that was rushing toward her.

  He dipped one finger and then two into her depths, stroking both inside and out as he plunged and withdrew in a rapid rhythm that tortured as it pleasured. Amanda’s hips rocked into his hand as she struggled to find the release that he was promising her. Her mind was shutting down. Who needed to think when he was offering her so much to feel?

  Again and again, she whimpered and twisted against his touch. His thumb rolled over one sensitive spot and she cried out his name in a broken voice torn from a throat nearly too tight to allow breath.

  “Come for me,” he whispered, kissing her mouth, her eyes, her nose. “Come now, Amanda, and let me see you shatter.”