Truly, Madly, Dangerously

by Linda Winstead Jones

  “What time is it?” Sadie asked, not for the first time in the past half hour.

  “Three-fourteen,” he answered.

  She nodded slowly and headed for the phone to try Mary Beth again.

  “She wasn’t home five minutes ago,” Truman said. “She’s not home now.”

  Sadie sighed and replaced the receiver on the hook. “I know.”

  She didn’t want to sit in the dining area, where anyone passing by would be able to see them. Sadie seemed to be overly concerned about what everyone else would think. There was a very small employee break room in the back that consisted of a brown vinyl couch and a three-legged coffee table. The end without a leg was propped up with old copies of Reader’s Digest Condensed Books, but needed at least one more to make the top of the table level. Sadie said it was a depressing little room, and Truman agreed.

  Now she lowered herself to sit on the floor behind the counter, leaned her back against the shelf, and closed her eyes. “Talk to me, Truman,” she said, eyes shut, ankles crossed. Yeah, she did have fine legs.

  “About what?” He sat beside her, not too close, and stretched out his own legs.

  She hummed as she pondered the question. “Tell me about your cabin on the lake.”

  Safe subject, he imagined. He wasn’t much interested in safe at the moment, but Sadie obviously was.

  “It’s not much,” he said. “A great room, two bedrooms, a big kitchen. It’s the location that sold me, not the house. When I walked out onto the pier, I knew I was meant to be there.”

  “That’s nice,” she said softly. “To be somewhere and know it’s your place in the world.”

  Sadie’s place was here. Why did she fight it so hard? Why was she so damned and determined not to belong? “It came at a good time for me,” he admitted.

  She opened her eyes and stared at him, hard and soft at the same time. Only Sadie could look at a man this way, as if she could see into his soul. She was fearless and vulnerable, warm and distant. Impulsive and reserved. And he could see all that in her eyes.

  “Why didn’t you ever get remarried? You’ve been divorced, what, seven years?”

  “Six.”

  “Plenty of time to recover, find another woman, have a couple of kids…”

  Truman lifted a silencing finger. “I can’t have children.”

  Sadie’s eyes went wide and soft, her lips parted gently. “Oh. Oh, Truman, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s not that I can’t have kids,” he clarified, “just that it’s not a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  He leaned slightly toward her, lowering his voice. “Kennedy married a woman who absolutely refuses to name her sons after presidents. According to my mother, I’m her last hope to carry on the McCain family tradition.”

  Finally, he got a real smile. A Sadie smile was enough to make a man’s insides quake. “That doesn’t sound so bad. I think Roosevelt and Fillmore are wonderful names.”

  “Oh, really.” He found himself grinning back.

  “And what about Nixon and McKinley?”

  “McKinley McCain?”

  “It has a dignified ring to it,” she said, relaxing visibly.

  He didn’t know why he was so attracted to Sadie. Maybe because there wasn’t anyone else quite like her. Not in Garth, not anywhere.

  “My mother has her heart set on a grandson named Clinton.”

  “Bite your tongue.”

  “I’d rather bite yours.”

  Her smile faded. Maybe he should have kept his thoughts to himself, but he didn’t want to play games with Sadie. He was too old to play games, and besides…time was running out. Fast. Sadie wasn’t here to stay.

  “So, what do you say?” he leaned toward her, moving slowly, giving her plenty of time to move away if that’s really what she wanted. “Here we are with nowhere to go, nothing to do, and you disposed of the last of the lunch special, so I can’t even pass the time trying to figure out what the surprise was supposed to be. And you look sexy as hell in pink.”

  “I don’t usually wear pink,” she said, her voice quick and low. “Okay, I never wear pink. It’s such a girlie color. I wear black, mostly. Some navy blue. I have one dark green…”

  “You’re babbling.”

  She sighed. “I know.”

  Sadie’s nose twitched, but she didn’t turn away and she didn’t tell him to back off. Just before he kissed her, she closed her eyes and parted her lips.

  It started as a friendly kiss, a test and a welcome home all rolled into one. But the kiss very slowly turned into something else. Something deeper and much more compelling than a simple friendly meeting of lips. This was definitely not an ordinary kiss.

  Sadie’s hand came up and touched his cheek, her fingers lightly caressing, trembling and soft. That smart mouth of hers was definitely good for something besides riling him up. She knew how to kiss.

  But she was still skittish. If he wasn’t afraid she’d run, he’d make the next step. Deepen the kiss. Touch her the way she needed to be touched.

  The tip of her tongue danced with his, and one hand settled on his arm as if it belonged there. There was electricity in the way they touched. Promise and wanting.

  To hell with caution. Where was she going to run to? Truman hauled Sadie onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. She didn’t run. She snaked her arms around his neck and tilted her head to deepen the kiss. Her body arched against his, gently, slow and soft and real. Her fingers speared through his hair and she held on to him. He felt her tremble, and he answered with one of his own.

  Her indecision melted away, slowly, surely. He tasted it. Felt it. But then she took her mouth from his, laid her head on his shoulder, and sighed deeply. “We can’t do this.”

  “We’re not doing anything,” Truman said, lifting his hand to thread his fingers through her dark curls. “Yet. Nothing wrong, anyway. We’re both unattached and well over twenty-one, and I like you. I like you a lot, Sadie.”

  “Well, maybe I don’t like you,” she countered with very little enthusiasm.

  “This is not the way to convince me that you don’t like me.” He raked a hand up her side and brushed his palm over her breast, over the hardened nipple beneath.

  “I can’t…” she began softly.

  “Just a kiss, sexy Sadie, that’s all I’m asking for. Just one more kiss.”

  She brought her mouth back to his. Just a kiss. He wanted more, he wanted everything, but not here and not while Sadie was still so damned uncertain.

  Sexy Sadie. Like the song. She didn’t feel sexy. At least, she hadn’t until Truman had started touching her.

  She had dreamed of this for years, making out with Truman McCain, wrapping her arms around his neck and playing with the little curls at the nape. Reality was so much better than fantasy. He was warm. No, hot. He was hard and soft at the same time. And he knew just how to touch and kiss and hold a woman to make her feel truly sexy.

  This was not a good idea. She knew that. In just a minute, she was going to back off and tell Truman to leave her alone. In just a minute. Maybe two.

  She felt as though she’d been starved for this, as though she’d been craving a kiss all her life and hadn’t known it. How long had it been since a man had kissed her properly? Years. A woman shouldn’t go years without a proper kiss, one that made her weak-kneed and fuzzy-headed. One that made her insides quake.

  As long as she stayed in control, as long as she continued to remind herself that this attraction was physical and not emotional, she’d be all right. She concentrated on the gentle touch of Truman’s mouth, his warm hands, the way her body responded. Men enjoyed physical attraction without emotion. Why couldn’t she?

  A firm hand raked up her side, brushed against her breast, cupped and teased. Just another minute or two, Sadie promised herself again. Maybe five.

  She didn’t even feel the buttons of her pink uniform come loose, but without warning Truman’s hand was on the bare swell of her b
reasts. Fingers dancing, palm cupping. The fingers at her back twisted easily and her bra came undone. Truman’s hand slipped under the loosened undergarment and touched a nipple that was so sensitive Sadie shuddered deep. She almost came, then and there.

  She responded this way because it had been so long, Sadie reasoned. A healthy woman shouldn’t go for years without intimacy. Wasn’t natural. She was hungry for this kind of touch, and just because it was Truman McCain who delivered it didn’t mean she loved him, even a little bit. It was just…she didn’t care what this was. It felt good. She liked it.

  He caressed her breast with warm, gentle fingers, and a purely sexual heat shot through her. Sadie closed her eyes and just let herself feel. This was good. Beautiful and sensual and good. Sitting on his lap as she was, she couldn’t help but notice that the kiss affected him, as well. He was hard. His erection pressed into her hip. Her fingers itched to touch his arousal, but she knew that was a move from which there was no retreat. So she untucked his shirt and reached beneath to touch his bare stomach, instead. He twitched and then quivered, as she settled her palm on his taut abdomen.

  A big, warm hand stroked her thigh, inching higher. Truman’s fingers found the thigh holster and stopped there.

  He took his mouth from hers, and she looked into his eyes…but not for long. She wasn’t the only one losing control. She saw too much in those blue eyes, so she closed her eyes and lowered her mouth to his neck. Heaven above, he tasted so good. Warm and male and absolutely intoxicating.

  “Sadie,” he whispered. “Are you on the pill or the patch or…anything?”

  “No.” She touched the side of his neck with the tip of her tongue. It was too late to pretend that she didn’t want him with everything she had. “Do you have a condom?”

  “No.”

  Sadie sighed and continued to kiss his neck. “Damn.”

  Truman laughed, low and dark. “Exactly.”

  It actually crossed her mind—momentarily—that one time would be safe, just once…

  “I don’t think I want little Clinton conceived on the floor of your Aunt Lillian’s restaurant,” Truman said softly.

  It was a sobering statement, shocking enough to bring Sadie to her senses and make her back away from the man who held her. What had she almost done?

  Nothing, Sadie assured herself silently. She’d almost done nothing. If Truman hadn’t come to his senses, she surely would have.

  She made the mistake of lifting her head to look him in the eye again. Truman had never looked at her this way before. She wanted to believe he had never looked at any woman this way before. He reached out and touched her hair. “On the other hand…”

  “No,” she said sharply. “You’re right. Besides,” she tried for a smile that didn’t work. “It was just a kiss. Right?”

  “Friday night,” he said, his voice deep and velvety.

  She was so tempted to say yes. She wanted to say yes. But if nothing else, one kiss had shown her what she already knew. Truman was a temptation that could keep her here in Garth. If she got involved with him he’d expect her to bring her life to a standstill, forget her own dreams, and stay here. For what? Sex. And in the end…after she’d given up everything for him, he’d quit looking at her this way. He’d quit kissing her like his body was on fire, he’d stop wanting her. Everything she’d sacrificed would end up being for nothing.

  A man was a poor reason to change your life. She’d learned that once, and had no desire to have the lesson rammed home again.

  Rammed home. Poor choice of words. Low in her gut, something quivered.

  “Friday,” he said again.

  “No,” she whispered.

  The sound of a key being inserted into the lock made her jump out of her skin. If she was on the pill or if Truman had been carrying a condom in his wallet, they would be well and truly caught. Red-handed, so to speak.

  “Surprise,” Truman whispered.

  Sadie moved off his lap and started to rise, but a strong and steady hand shot up, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her back down.

  “What are you doing?” she snapped.

  “Sadie…”

  “Someone’s coming in,” she said through clenched teeth. “Someone with a key.” Lillian or Mary Beth, and Sadie’s money was on her aunt.

  Without warning Truman kissed her quick, the grip on her wrist never wavering. “Then you’d better button your uniform,” he whispered as his mouth left hers.

  She glanced down at her chest, yanking her hand away from Truman as the front door swung open with a soft squeal. She buttoned furiously, watching Truman as she fastened the suddenly too-small buttons. There was still something sexy and compelling smoldering in his eyes, but a touch of humor lingered there, too.

  “Wow,” he mouthed as Sadie once again began to stand.

  Wow, indeed.

  Sadie came to her feet, heart almost steady, and came eye to eye with Aunt Lillian, over the counter.

  “There you are,” Lillian said with a smile. “Jennifer called me at Betty’s house and said you two couldn’t find the key.” She shook her head. “It’s right where I said it was, in the back of the knife drawer.”

  “You said it was under the cash register.”

  Aunt Lillian waved a dismissive hand. “I’m sure I said it was in the knife drawer.” She was much too short to lean over the counter, but she did lean on it. “Deputy Truman, didn’t I say the spare key was in the knife drawer?”

  Truman sighed. “No, ma’am. You said it was under the cash register.” Still, he didn’t make a move to stand.

  Maybe he was thinking furiously about baseball.

  “Oh,” Lillian said, innocent and wide-eyed. “Well, I used to keep it under the register.” She shrugged her shoulders. “An easy enough mistake.”

  Truman finally stood. Slowly. Aunt Lillian shooed them out of the coffee shop and again locked the café door, anxious to get back to her bridge game. In the parking lot Truman waved to Lillian as she drove off, while Sadie stood there with her arms crossed over her chest.

  When Aunt Lillian was gone, Truman turned his gaze back to Sadie. It made her heart—and something else—leap, but she ignored her response. “Friday night,” he said again. “And this time, I’ll come prepared.”

  Sadie shook her head. “No.”

  “Dinner, then back to my place.”

  Again, a shake of the head.

  “Don’t tell me you’re not interested.”

  “I’m not interested,” she said softly.

  “Liar.”

  Sadie lifted her chin. “I did always wonder what it would be like to kiss you, but now that my curiosity has been satisfied, there’s no reason to continue.”

  Jen crossed the parking lot, and she wasn’t alone. Her friend Courtney was with her, along with two young men Sadie had not met. No wonder the rat had finally called her mother! She had plans and needed Sadie to watch the desk or clean rooms or take on some other chore the young woman didn’t want.

  “Hi,” Jennifer said, grinning wickedly. “How did you two enjoy your afternoon?”

  “Just fine,” Truman answered.

  “Not at all,” Sadie countered. She leaned closer to her cousin and lowered her voice. “You are in so much trouble.”

  “Me?” Jen looked Sadie up and down, and did not bother to lower her own voice. “I’m not the one running around with my dress buttoned up crooked.”

  Sadie cast an uneasy glance down. Sure enough, the top button of the dreaded pink uniform had no corresponding buttonhole, and near the waist there was a telling little pooch, where there was a buttonhole and no button. She felt her face turn warm. How red was she?

  “I need you to cover the desk,” Jennifer said. “And I cleaned some of the rooms, but didn’t get to the last three yet. Thanks!”

  “Be back in an hour,” Sadie said sharply. “I need to get to the bank before it closes.”

  “An hour?” Jen whined.

  “Don’t be late.”
>
  Sadie watched her laughing cousin walk off with her friends. “If I kill her, will you arrest me?” she asked.

  “’Fraid so,” Truman said softly.

  “Think a jury would convict me?”

  “Probably not.”

  Sadie headed for the motel office. She needed a splash of cool water on her face and a change of clothes before she started cleaning those rooms.

  “Sadie Mae,” Truman called softly, before she’d taken half a dozen steps.

  Compelled, she turned around. “I told you not to call me…”

  He ignored her. “What you said yesterday, about not sleeping with me. Does that still stand?”

  “’Fraid so,” she said softly.

  He didn’t argue with her, but smiled crookedly. “Would you be really upset if I try my damnedest to make you change your mind?”

  “Probably.”

  “I’m going to try, anyway.”

  No more sitting by the lake, no more kissing, no more anything! She was too close to giving in, as it was. It would be really easy to say that what was going on here was simply physical, and if they took proper precautions there was nothing at all wrong with a little adult recreational activity.

  But the kiss had proven to her that, dammit, this was more than physical. For her, at least.

  And that would never do.

  “You could have told me I had my uniform buttoned wrong,” she said, anxious to change the subject.

  He grinned, darn his hide. “But it’s just so cute.”

  “Screw you,” she said as she turned her back on him again.

  A sexy voice followed her. “Anytime.”

  Truman stuck his head in the freezer, looking for something microwaveable for dinner. He was tempted to drive to town and see if Sadie was still working the Yellow Rose Motel desk. Maybe he could talk her into a barbecue dinner at Thigpen’s Pit. Then again, maybe he’d pushed enough for one day.

  He ended up smiling at the ice cream, even though he didn’t see anything in the freezer suitable for dinner.

  Truman McCain didn’t take chances, he didn’t take risks, he didn’t go after things he knew he shouldn’t or couldn’t have. Not anymore. So why the hell was he so damned and determined to get Sadie?