by Sara Orwig
“I think the four-poster is great. Sleigh beds—even king-size sleigh beds—are too short. There is a tiny off chance I might get into this bed sometime.”
“Shall we take bets on how many hours after purchase?” she asked sweetly and he grinned. “A sleigh bed is never too short for me,” she said, studying the two frames. “Okay, I guess I’ll get the four-poster.”
“That’s an excellent choice. Let’s find the mattresses.”
“You’re very anxious to get a bed in my house,” she said.
“I want you to be comfortable. You never know when you’ll really want a bed. I’m sure you’re enjoying your cot as much as I’m enjoying my sleeping bag,” he said and then frowned slightly. “What’s wrong, Em?”
“I started to say I should get a bed for the guest room now, too, but I don’t have family. Uncle Woody was the last except the cousins, and I never see them. My family is gone. You and I will get our divorce and you’ll be gone. I don’t need a guest bed.”
He put his arm around her shoulders. “You’ll have a family soon enough. I know you’ll marry again. You can wait and get another bed for the guest room some other day, but you need one for yourself now.”
She felt the tears threatening. “What happened to us, Tom?”
He pulled her around to hug her. There was no one in that corner of the store and he really didn’t care if there was. “We had the most devastating loss, and we just made too many mistakes dealing with that. But maybe some of them can be fixed,” he said, holding her close.
She pulled away and wiped her eyes. “We’re in public. I’ll pull myself together. It’s just a little scary to know I’m alone.”
“You’re not alone. Look, you can call me anytime you want.”
She smiled at him. “Sure, Tom. I’m sure your next wife will just be thrilled to hear that you told your ex to call you anytime.”
“Don’t marry me off so fast. Let’s get the bed, a mattress and springs, and go home and eat. Then they’ll deliver the bed and mattress and we can try it out,” he said, licking his lips and looking at her.
She smiled, shaking her head.
As they drove to the house, he went through what they had already done to the house, what they had lined up to do and what else should be added to the list. “Now I know you need a new roof, and I know a really good roofer. I’ll call and get you a couple of estimates.”
“Tom, I don’t want to pay for all this at once. I have lots of windows. I’m having a security system installed. I’ve bought a lot of paint. I’ll have bills and more bills.”
He kept his attention on his driving as he talked. “Em, put all of this on the ranch expenses. We’re still married. We’re still a couple and we’ll pay it out of the ranch budget.”
“That simply means you’ll pay it all,” she said, looking at him in surprise. “You’re divorcing me. Why would you pay for all this?”
He reached over with his free hand to squeeze hers. “You’re my wife right now, and this divorce is not out of anger. Don’t fuss. I’ll just add it to the ranch tab. You forget about it.”
She was surprised he would do that, but was more lost in his remark about how their divorce was not out of anger. But what difference did that make? They had made mistakes and hurt each other and soon would part.
“You’re worrying. Don’t. It’s taken care of. Uncle Woody’s house, which is now Emily’s house, is getting a makeover.”
“Thank you, Tom.”
He reached over to give her hand another squeeze. “Sure. I intend to do some things right.”
“You do a lot of things right,” she said. She was amazed that he would do this for her. She rode the last two blocks in silence wondering what Tom really felt and wanted.
When they got home, they had to deal with the first window company. They were so impressed, they decided to skip getting the other estimates and go with this firm.
It was two in the afternoon before they ate lunch and she washed her new sheets. Then they went back to painting. As she painted, her thoughts were on Tom.
He worked fast and efficiently. He’d already taken care of the alarm system. The downstairs windows would be installed in two weeks, which was a rush job for custom-made windows. Going ahead without discussing it, Tom had also hired a professional outfit to paint the outside of the house and they had started this morning. And now he was going to pay all her repair bills.
Tom got things done, and with his help, it was going to take her far less time to finish restoring the house. How long would he stay? Trying to catch Maverick, if it was even possible, could take a long time. So far, she didn’t think anyone had come close to learning the true identity of this monster. Maybe she would be the last victim—but how long would Tom feel she might need protection?
In some ways they were getting along better than they had, or maybe she had just relaxed about being with him. She was looking forward to meeting the Valentines Saturday. Tom liked them and his voice softened when he talked about them.
Like shifting sands beneath her feet, she felt as if her world was changing again, slight changes that might make a big difference later. She thought about Tom holding her in the store and telling her she wasn’t alone. She expected Tom to eventually get the divorce and they would no longer be in each other’s lives. He probably expected to marry again and she was sure he would. He probably expected her to marry again and she was sure she would not. She still wanted the divorce and she was certain he did. As great as Tom was, they could not have happiness together. Tom needed a family, and she couldn’t give him his own kids.
* * *
The following day after the store delivered the bed, she got out her new sheets and Tom helped. He wore cutoffs, boots and another T-shirt with the sleeves ripped away, and it kept her tingly and physically aware of him every second they were together.
They made the bed and she spread a comforter on top with some new pillows. She stood back to admire it. “I think it’s beautiful.”
“I agree,” he said, picking her up. His voice had lowered. “Let’s try it out. I’ve been waiting for this moment.”
“Aw, Tom, don’t get me all torn up when I’m getting over what we went through,” she said, but at the same time, joy rocked her and she loved being in his arms.
She put her arm around his neck and he carried her to the bed, placing his knee on the mattress to lower her. While she wanted to kiss him, she didn’t want to get tied up in emotional knots again. “Tom, we can’t do this.”
“Sure, we can. Try me and see,” he said, stretching beside her and holding her in his arms as his mouth covered hers. She felt as if she were in free fall, the world spinning around her as his tongue stroked hers and he ran his hand over her breast and down to slip beneath her T-shirt. She tightened her arms and thrust her hips against him and felt his hard erection. Pushing aside her bra, he caressed her, his hand warm against her skin.
For a moment, she thought, just for a moment... She ran her hands over him, beneath his shirt as he had done, feeling his smooth back, the solid muscles. But she knew she was getting into deep trouble and would get hurt all over again. She slipped out of his embrace and stepped off the bed, shaking her head.
“I can’t go through all that pain.”
He gazed at her solemnly. She wanted to go right back into his arms, but she knew the futility of that, because it would lead straight to more unhappiness with nothing solved between them.
She turned and went downstairs and outside, trying to find something she could work on far away from him, away from the new bed that had been one more big mistake. The thought of sleeping in a comfortable bed instead of a narrow cot night after night had seemed so marvelous, but a bed and Tom—the mere thought made her hot and tingly.
He still could melt her with a look. She was headed fo
r more heartbreak if she wasn’t careful and didn’t keep up her guard. Tom was a wonderful, sexy man, but they had no future together. She needed to stay aware of that all the time with him. They had relaxed now and had fun a lot of the time. But with hot sex and fiery passion, she would soon want him back on a permanent basis and then the problem of her inability to have children would come crashing down on her again and Tom would say goodbye.
She returned to her painting, working fast, focusing on her task and trying to avoid thinking about Tom. Then around four o’clock he stepped into the room. She heard his boot heels as he approached the open door and stepped inside.
“How’re you doing?”
“Painting away and getting a lot done. You’re an inspiration,” she said, trying to keep things light and impersonal again, where they seemed to get along the best.
“I’m glad to hear I inspire you. And I’m glad you’re okay. Shall I get carryout or do you want to go to a restaurant, or what?”
“I think carryout will be perfect.”
“You had your chance to go out to dinner.” He turned and was gone and she went back to painting. It was a couple of hours later when he sent her a text that he was leaving and taking orders. Smiling she sent him a reply and kept painting.
Half an hour later, she heard a loud whistle. Startled, she smiled and put down her brush. She went into the hall to look over the banister. He stood below with his hands on his hips and his hair in its usual tangle.
“I’m here and dinner’s here, so come on down.”
“I have a brush full of paint. You should have given me a warning.”
“Bring your brush and I’ll take care of it.” He turned away without waiting for an answer. Smiling, she picked up her paintbrush and went downstairs.
They ate salads, barbecued ribs and corn bread on the porch and then went back to painting. It wasn’t until ten o’clock when they sat back down together on the porch. As usual, she had raspberry tea and he had his cold beer.
“I’m amazed how much you’ve gotten done. I don’t recall you being that fast before.”
“I’m getting better as I age.”
“Maybe we both are,” she said, smiling in the dark.
They sat and talked until midnight and then walked up the stairs together. “Now you sleep tight in your big, cushy new bed while I crawl into my sleeping bag on the floor.”
At the top of the stairs as they started down the hall, he put his arm across her shoulders. She smiled. “I will remind you, you insisted on staying here. I told you there was nowhere for you to sleep.”
“Not quite true now. If you get lonesome, just whisper. I’ll hear you.”
She laughed. “Good night, Tom. You can have my cot.”
“No, thanks. I’ll wait for your invitation.” He switched off the lights and she could hear him rustling around and then all was quiet. She suspected it would be a long time before she would get to sleep.
What would it be like when he went back to the ranch and she was in this big old house all by herself? She knew she was going to miss him badly.
* * *
In the night a clap of thunder rattled the windows and jolted her awake. She could hear the wind whistling around the house outside and felt the cool breeze coming through the open windows. She got out of bed and slipped on flip-flops to go turn off the attic fan.
Brilliant flashes of lightning illuminated the interior of the room, so she could see as went out into the hall. She bumped into Tom, who steadied her. “Did the thunder wake you?” she asked, aware of his hands still on her arm and waist.
As if to emphasize her words, thunder rumbled again and a flash of lightning cast a silvery brilliance in the hall and was gone, followed by the hiss of a sudden downpour.
“I hoped you’d be scared of thunder and jump into my arms. You can get in my sleeping bag and be cozy.”
“Are you trying to wrangle an invitation to sleep in my new bed?”
He ran his finger lightly over her collarbone. “My darlin’, if I get an invitation to get on your new bed, I will not sleep. I can think of wonderful ways to try out that new bed.” Lightning flashed and she gazed up at him. “Damn, I want you, and it’s been a hell of a long time and we’re still married.” He drew her to him and leaned close to kiss her on the threshold of her bedroom. “You know you want to kiss,” he whispered. “Live a little, Em.”
Seven
Emily’s breath caught as her arms slipped around his neck. Common sense went with the wind. Tom was right. She wanted him, it had been a long time and they were married.
She relished being in his strong arms, held tightly against his virile body that for an hour or two could drive every problem into oblivion.
His hand roamed over her, caressing her breasts, sliding down over her bottom and drifting over her, setting her on fire with wanting him. “Why do we have this effect on each other?” she whispered, more to herself than to him.
“I can’t answer your question,” he said between kisses. His tongue followed the curve of her ear and then he tugged away the T-shirt she slept in, drawing it over her head and dropping it to the floor. He cupped her soft breasts in his callused hands while his thumbs caressed her, drawing circles so lightly, making her shake and gasp with pleasure.
“I can’t resist you. I never could.” She sighed.
He framed her face with his hands. “That’s damn mutual. You would have been free of me a long time ago if we could walk away from each other, but we can’t. You take my breath away, Em. I dream about you. I still want you even when I should let you go.”
She didn’t reason out what he said to her. Instead, she kissed him and stopped all conversation. His arms tightened around her and he peeled away her pajama bottoms, tossing them aside while holding her tightly.
It had been too long, aeons, since they had made love, and his body beneath her hands was fit and strong. She wanted that strength, his passion for life, hot kisses and lovemaking that could shut out the pain of loss.
He was an exciting man, and all the things she couldn’t be—physically strong, a decorated warrior, tough, sexy. Her world had been caring for her aging uncle, raising her baby, taking pictures of families and children and pets.
For right now, Tom’s kisses drove away the heartbreaking problems between them. At the moment nothing was as important as Tom. Making love tonight would not satisfy anything except carnal lust, but she wanted him and he was here with her. If they made love, maybe she could be more relaxed with him, less sexually responsive to even the slightest touch—although that had never happened in the past. Sex with him had always had just the opposite effect, as she knew it would tonight. If they made love, she would want to make love again soon. She would want more instead of less because making love with Tom was fantastic.
She ran her hands over him. Her fingers shook as she peeled away his briefs.
His dark hair was tangled, falling on his forehead. She ran her hands over his broad, muscled shoulders, letting her hand slide down over his flat stomach, his narrow waist.
He was hard, ready to love, and she caressed him, wanting him, wanting to take her time. They hadn’t made love in a year and now that they’d started, she couldn’t stop and she was certain Tom didn’t want to stop. He picked her up and moved to her new bed. He lay down, holding her against him while he stroked and kissed her and moved over her.
He showered kisses on her, starting at her ankle, and then stretched beside her and drew her closer, his leg moving between hers, parting her legs as he caressed her intimately.
She held him tightly, kissing him, the pressure building while desire intensified. Her hips moved and she arched against his hand, straining for release.
His fingers drove her, and then his mouth was on her, his tongue sending her over the edge as she thr
ashed and burst with release and need for all of him.
She moved over him to kiss him, taking him in her mouth, using her tongue and hands while she rubbed her breasts against him.
With a growl deep in his throat, he rolled her over and moved between her legs to look down at her.
“You’re beautiful. I’ll be right back,” he said, starting to leave.
“I don’t need protection,” she replied, the moment changing as reality invaded the passionate idyll they had created. “I can’t get pregnant, Tom.”
He kissed her again, another devastating kiss that made her want him inside her and drove her wild with need. Shifting away swiftly, she got on her knees.
“We’re doing this, so let’s take our time. I haven’t been loved by you in so very long. Take the night and drive away our sorrows. Let’s grab joy here and hold it tight. I’m going to make you want me like you never have before,” she said, her tongue stroking his thick manhood. “Turn over.”
She caressed the backs of his legs, her hands trailing lightly over sculpted, hard muscles. She slowly ran her tongue, hot and wet, up the backs of his thighs, her fingers moving between his legs, her hand playing over his hard butt. Then he rolled back over, pulling her on top of him to kiss her passionately.
As she looked down at him, she wondered why he dazzled her so much and always had. “I can’t resist you,” she said.
“That’s my line,” he replied solemnly. “You have it all mixed up—I’m the one who can’t resist.”
She swung her leg over him to kneel beside him, running her tongue over him again while her fingers stroked and toyed with him. He fondled her breasts, his hands warm, his fingers brushing her nipples. Then he shifted, turning to take her breast in his mouth and run his tongue over the taut peak.
She tried to caress and kiss every inch of him until Tom knelt between her legs, putting her legs on his shoulders, his hands driving her to more heights.
“Come here,” she demanded, tugging his hip with one hand, holding his rod with her other. “I want you inside me.”
