Her Forbidden Cowboy
Page 14
She touched his arm. “Are you angry?”
Dylan pissed him off, but that’s not what she meant. “No. But I don’t like having our time together interrupted like that. You don’t need to be exposed to my real world. It’s bad enough I have to deal with it.”
“It’s okay.” Her face went gooey soft. “It wasn’t so bad.”
They’d never set boundaries or labeled what was happening between them, except to say she was on the rebound and he was the guy enjoying the privilege. But he wanted to spend every minute with her while she was here. She would go home soon. And he’d have to deal with it. She was forbidden fruit, and at times, his conscience warred with his desire for her. She was vulnerable right now and had come to live with him to heal her wounds. The last thing he wanted was to add to her pain. He’d never knowingly take advantage of her, but was he leading her on or helping her heal? He had to think it was healing for them to be together. Right now, things were simple, but when the time came for her to return home, he’d have to let her go.
Her palm caressed his cheek. The touch was gentle, caring, and her eyes simmered with enough warmth to light a fire. When she leaned in and kissed him, something snapped in his heart. He wouldn’t name it, didn’t want to think about it. The sensations roiling in his gut scared the stuffing out of him. The mistake he’d made had cost his wife her life, and he wasn’t going back there again. Falling in love was already checked off his bucket list.
Leaning back in his seat, he gave her a smile. “Our food’s getting cold, sweetheart.”
She blinked, and the heat in her eyes evaporated.
He hated disappointing her, but he had nothing else to say on the subject.
* * *
Jessica loved working for Zane. It gave her a sense of purpose, and she enjoyed gaining a new perspective on life. As a grade-school teacher, her world revolved around children, shaping and molding them into good students and eager learners. But this work had its own rewards. This morning she’d already spoken to Zane’s fan club president, made a list of devotees she needed to send autographed photos to, and spoken with Mrs. Elise Woolery, a senior citizen who wrote to Zane every month. Yes, at the age of eighty-four, the woman was a Zane Zealot. She was his Super Fan. Mariah had made a special point to make sure Zane read and answered this woman’s letters. Jessica would do no less.
Sitting at the office desk, she was reading her heartwarming letter when her cell phone rang. She glanced at the screen and smiled before answering. “Hi, Mama.”
“Hi, honey.”
“Is something wrong? Your voice...”
“Honey, I’m fine. It’s not that, but how are you?”
She was flying high, happy as a clam, strolling on Moonlight Beach shores and spending time with Zane. Last night had been incredible. Except for the crazy camera goons coming out of the woodwork and some odd moments afterward, it had been a picture-perfect day and night. Riding at Ruby Ranch, dinner, dancing and making love with Zane afterward was up there on her Top Ten List of Best Days. What more could a girl ask for?
A lot, a voice in her head screamed.
She ignored it.
“I’m fine, Mom. What is it? Did Steven make another stupid move? Is Judy pregnant or something? I’m telling you right now I’m over it, whatever it is.”
“No, honey. I haven’t heard anything more about Steven. It’s just that...well, have you read the Daily Inquiry this morning?”
“Mama, you know I don’t read that stuff. And neither do you. What’s this all about?”
“I mean, I was sort of used to it with Janie. Zane protected her mostly, and the press loved them. But you, honey. Well, there’s a picture of you and Zane, and it’s quite shocking.”
“There’s a picture of me and Zane?”
“On the front page. My neighbor Esther showed it to me this morning. And after that, my phone hasn’t stopped ringing.”
“It hasn’t?” It was noon in Texas. Damn those photographers. She’d thought they were only after Dylan. She should’ve known better, not that she had any way of stopping the invasion of privacy. “Mama, it’s nothing, really. You know the life Zane leads. We were dining out and were ambushed by the Hollywood nut jobs. That’s all.”
“You changed your hair. You’re blonde now. And the dress you were wearing...well, it was quite revealing. Zane had you in his arms, baby girl, and it looked to me as if—”
“He was protecting me from the cameras, that’s all.”
“Is that all, honey?”
She nibbled her lip. What could she say to her mother? That she’d been sleeping with Zane and they’d been helping each other come to terms with their own personal demons? Could she honestly tell her mother that? No. Her mother would worry like crazy. She didn’t know that the new and improved Jessica could handle anything that came her way. God, she only hoped she wasn’t wrong about that.
“Jessica, that picture of you...well, do you know how much you look like Janie now?”
Something powerful stung her heart. The subtle implication wasn’t anything she hadn’t already thought of a hundred times in her head. Was that the attraction Zane had to her? She looked enough like Janie for him to gravitate her way.
“I don’t want you to get hurt again.”
“I know, Mama. I don’t plan to.”
Swinging her chair toward the computer, she keyed into the Daily Inquiry site on the internet. The front-page picture came up, and there she was, her neckline plunging and Zane’s arms around her shoulders possessively, his body half covering hers in a proprietary way. But the headline was what grabbed her the most. “Zane Williams Dating Wife Look-alike.” The subtitle wasn’t much better. “Who Is His Mystery Love?”
“Holy moly, Mama. I just looked it up.” Good thing the paparazzi didn’t do much investigating. She could only imagine the headline if they knew she was Janie’s younger sister.
“See what I mean?”
“I do. But this will pass. Tomorrow someone else will be their fodder.”
“I know that. I’m not worried about the picture or the headline. I’m only worried about you and what you’re feeling right now.”
“Mama, just know I’m happy. Zane has been incredible, and I’m making friends, enjoying the work I’m doing here.”
“Is Zane there now?”
“No, he’s having physical therapy.” She gasped as a thought struck her. “Mama, you’re not going to call him about this, are you?”
Her mother paused long enough to worry her. “Mother?”
“No, not if you don’t want me to.”
“I definitely don’t want you to. Promise me you won’t.”
Gosh, the last thing she needed was her mother intervening in her love life. She was the one who had insisted Jessica come here. The damage was already done. Her mama could only make things worse. She hung up on a cheery note, convincing her mother she was fine, and resumed her work.
An hour later, she heard Zane’s car pull up. Giddiness stirred inside her, and her heart warmed. She was becoming a lovesick puppy dog where he was concerned. She heard him enter the house, and his footsteps grew louder on the slate flooring as he approached. Seconds later, he was standing in front of her, a newspaper in his hand. He tossed it onto the desk, and she gave it a glance. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’ve got my manager doing some repair on this. Ideally, he can keep your name out of it.” He studied her a second. “You don’t look surprised.”
“Oh, I was very surprised when my mama called to tell me about it,” she said softly.
“Your mama saw this?” he nearly shrieked.
She nodded. “Just about all of Beckon has seen it by now.”
He ran a hand down his face, pulling his skin tight. “Oh, man.”
“Zane? What are you worried about?” Looking in
to his pained eyes frightened her.
He came around the desk and, taking her arms, pulled her up against him. “You. I’m worried about you,” his said softly into her ear. He tucked her into an embrace while his breath warmed her skin and her spine got all tingly.
“Don’t. I’m okay.”
“Your mama must think I’m a jerk, subjecting you to this. You have to go back to Beckon one day. I don’t want it to be harder on you than it has to be. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
You have to go back to Beckon one day.
He was right, she would have to return to her hometown one day. Her mind rebelled at the thought. He kissed her again and eased the battle going on inside her head. Oh, boy.
She gazed at him and was floored by the genuine look of concern on his face.
“How was your appointment?”
He pulled away from her and shrugged. “Fine. I don’t think I needed it, but—”
“You need it. So you did okay. It wasn’t too hard?”
“I’ve been swimming, riding and dancing on this foot. Seems I’m doing my own rehab.”
“You’re lucky you haven’t reinjured yourself, babe.”
He grinned.
“It’s not funny.”
“I’m not laughing at that. I like it when you call me ‘babe.’”
“Well, if you like that, I have an idea I think you might enjoy.”
“Does it involve a bed and soft sheets?”
“No, it involves being poolside with some beautiful hot chicks.”
* * *
One week later, at the Ventura Women’s Senior Center, an hour’s ride from Moonlight Beach, Jessica sat poolside in the audience of geriatric hot chicks. The scent of chorine was heavy in the air of the enclosed pool area that opened into the center’s recreation center. Zane had his butt in a chair, facing his eager fans with guitar in hand—he’d been brushing up at home—and it sounded to her as if he hadn’t lost his touch. Playing guitar was probably like riding a bicycle. Once you mastered it, you never forgot.
Zane’s Super Fan Elise Woolery, was all smiles today. She sat in the front row next to her friends, all of whom she’d coaxed into becoming great fans of Zane’s, as well. As smokin’ hot as Zane appeared to his younger audience, he had the wholesome good looks and Southern charm that any of these women would admire in a son.
Zane had balked at the idea of coming here, not because he wasn’t charitable. Nothing was further from the truth. But he didn’t know if he had the chops or the will to get back onstage and entertain the masses anymore. It had taken only one little ole note from Elise, saying she’d had a bad week physically, her arthritis so painful she couldn’t get out of bed in the mornings, and listening to Zane’s songs had helped her get by. That letter and Jessica’s urgings had convinced him to play this private concert. He insisted on no press, and Jessica agreed. This wasn’t a photo op. It wasn’t done for his public image, either. He’d agreed because basically he’d been humbled by her letter and wanted to help.
Zane faced his audience. “Well, now. It’s nice to be in such fine company. I guess you all are stuck with me for the next hour or two, so let’s start things off.” He nodded for Jessica to bring Elise up front and center. There was an empty chair beside him.
“Elise?” She helped the woman sit down next to him. The older woman waved her hand over her chest as the silvery-blue in her eyes gleamed.
“How are you this afternoon?” he asked.
Giddy as a school girl, she nodded and spoke softly. “I’m just fine.”
“Yes, you are,” Zane said. “Ready for a song?”
She gazed out at the envious women in the audience, her friends in the front fidgeting in their seats, too excited to sit still.
“I am, Mr. Williams.”
“Zane,” he corrected her, taking her hand. “May I call you Elise?”
“Oh, my, yes.”
Zane performed for over an hour, and he’d never sounded better. Just Zane and his guitar, without all the usual fanfare, lights or band to back him up. His voice was clear and honest and mesmerizing.
After the performance, one by one the seniors said their goodbyes and thanked him, often offering kisses on the cheek before leaving the facility. Elise stayed until the end and chatted with Zane. Jessica didn’t contribute much to the conversation. It seemed as though through her letters, Elise and Zane knew each other pretty well, but Jessica did take a number of photos, promising Elise she’d send them to her home address as soon as she could.
“You can thank Jessica here for arranging this,” Zane was saying.
“Thank you, Jessica. This made my whole year. I swear today, my arthritis just vanished. I think I’ll go home, put on one of Zane’s records and dance a jig.”
And later, sitting in the backseat of a limo, Zane reached for Jessica’s hand as they headed down the highway. He didn’t say much as he stared out the window, and every once in a while, he’d give her hand a squeeze.
If she could put a name on this sense of peace and total belonging, she’d call it bliss.
* * *
The sea glistened in the moonlight, calm tonight, the placid waves grazing the shore. It was a night like many she’d shared with Zane these past weeks, walking the shore in the dark, holding hands, enjoying the beach after the locals went home.
“You’re quiet tonight,” Zane said as they strolled along.
She wasn’t a complainer. She didn’t want to mar the perfection they’d seemed to achieve lately.
“I think I ate something that didn’t agree with me.”
Zane squeezed her hand lightly. “We can head back. We’re only half a mile from the house.”
“No, it’s okay. The fresh air is doing me good.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“’Cause you know, now that my rehab is done, I could pick you up and carry you all the way.”
She chuckled, and the movement caused her stomach to curl. “Oh.”
She wanted desperately to put her hand to her belly, but she didn’t want to draw his attention there. They were having such a wonderful evening. She managed a small smile instead. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Could be fun.”
“I don’t doubt it. You’d probably dunk me into the ocean first or deliver me into your shower, like you did the other night.”
“And you enjoyed every second. But I wouldn’t do that to you tonight, sweetheart. I can see on your face that you’re exhausted.” He pivoted, taking her with him. “C’mon. You should get to bed.”
“Okay, maybe you’re right.”
She didn’t have the strength to argue with him. Zane had a charity event at the children’s hospital in the city tomorrow, and she didn’t want to miss it. It wasn’t an extravaganza by any means, just an artist making the rounds and singing songs with the kids She hadn’t had any difficulty convincing Zane to do it. When it came to making children feel better, Zane was all in.
“Excuse me? You said I was right about something?”
“Very funny.” Gosh, her voice sounded suddenly weak. Whatever strength she had left seemed to seep right out of her. Her limbs lost all their juice. “Zane, I’m, uh, really tired.” A wave of fatigue stopped her steps in the sand.
Zane halted and gave her a quick once-over, his eyes dark with concern. He lifted her effortlessly, and she wound her arms around his neck. “I’ve got you. Hang on, honey.”
“I don’t know what hit me all of a sudden.”
“Just rest against me and close your eyes. I’ll have you home in no time.”
And minutes later, they entered the house. She insisted Zane deposit her in her own bedroom. He balked at first. He said he wanted to keep an eye on her tonight. “Are you sure
?”
She needed a place to crash. And if she had a bug or the flu, she could be contagious. Zane didn’t need to get sick on her account. “I’m sure. Thanks for the lift.” Literally. She smiled, and his eyes grew sympathetic in response.
“Anytime.”
“I just need to sleep this off.”
“Can I help you get ready for bed?” he asked.
“I’ll manage, Zane. Thanks for the thought.”
“Okay if I come in to check on you later? I won’t wake you.”
She could see it meant a lot to him by the protective look in his eyes. “Yes, I’d like that.”
“If you need anything during the night, just call for me.”
When she’d had the flu during spring break last year, Steven hadn’t so much as offered to bring her a bowl of soup. He’d told her he’d keep his distance so she could rest up and get better. He couldn’t afford to get sick. She’d received a total of one phone call from him during her recuperation. What a fool she’d been. The signs were all there, but she’d refused to see them.
“Thank you, Zane.”
He smiled, but the worry in his eyes touched her deeply. “Good night, sweet Jess.” He placed a kiss on her forehead, tossed the sheets back on the bed and gave her a lingering smile before he walked out of the room and closed the door.
Her hands trembled as she put on her nightie and tucked herself into bed. She hadn’t lasted but a minute when her belly rattled and the turmoil reached up into her throat, gagging her. Her stomach recoiled, and she covered her mouth, clamping it shut as she raced to the toilet.
It wasn’t a pretty sight, but she emptied her stomach in just about thirty seconds.
Sitting back on the floor, she closed her eyes and took big breaths of air in order to calm her stomach. Whatever it was, she hoped it was gone.
Bye. Bye.
Arrivederci.
Good riddance.
She rose slowly and leaned against the marble counter. One look at her chalky face in the mirror told her to wash up and get her butt back into bed. She splashed water on her cheeks, chin, throat and arms, cooling and cleansing herself, and then headed back to bed on wobbly jelly legs. Her eyes closed to the distant serenade of Zane’s beautiful voice coming from downstairs as he rehearsed his music for tomorrow’s event.