Heartwood

by L. G. Pace III

  * * * *

  Heartwood

  A Carved Hearts Novel

  Copyright © 2015 by L.G. Pace III & Michelle Pace

  Cover designer: Robin Harper. Wicked By Design.

  Cover model: Ruby Franco

  Formatting by JT Formatting

  All rights reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, bands, and/or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Title Page

  Chapter One - Dirty

  Chapter Two - Heavy

  Chapter Three - Heartwood

  Chapter Four - A Line and a Pole

  Chapter Five - Wranglers

  Chapter Six - To Have and to Hold

  Chapter Seven - Home

  Chapter Eight - Remember

  Chapter Nine - The First Forty-Eight

  Chapter Ten - Captive

  Chapter Eleven - Pain

  Chapter Twelve - Screwed

  Chapter Thirteen - Frayed

  Epilogue - Hearth and Home

  Acknowledgments

  About the Authors

  “IF YOU NEED anything, Mr. Jensen...anything at all... don’t hesitate to call.” The front desk clerk tossed her dark hair and gave me what I assumed was supposed to be a seductive smile. She brushed her thumb over my knuckles as she handed me the hotel room keys. I was too distracted to fake a polite smile, so I nodded absently and made my way to the elevator.

  The Driskill was an impressive old hotel, and I’d always admired the place for its 1886 architecture. It appealed to the craftsman in me, and though I’d been to many events there, I’d never been a guest. Molly and I had talked about staying on our wedding night, but, it was pricey and hard to justify since it was less than a few miles from home. Circumstances made that fantasy impossible now, but it seemed like a shame not to make this minor dream of mine come true.

  I unlocked the door, and was greeted by a classy, very Texan style suite. A monstrous king sized bed dominated the room. Crowned by a partial canopy, it gave the room a posh yet clandestine feel. The suite was a magnificent space. The Driskill was far from seedy, but the entire scenario felt pretty cloak and dagger.

  I felt my lips twitch with a smirk.

  It felt good to be bad.

  I jumped in the shower and afterward, I took my time shaving. I figured a gaping face wound wouldn’t get me laid. Throwing on my favorite suit, I took a minute to check my appearance in the mirror. After I was sure that my tie was straight and that I looked presentable, I made my way back down to the lobby. As I passed the front desk, the eye popping reaction I got from the flirty clerk bolstered my confidence. With a cocky nod in her direction, I pulled out my valet ticket and a red-vested attendant scampered to bring my truck around.

  I was blocks away from the restaurant when traffic came to a crawl. Anxiously tapping the steering wheel, I finally passed the scene of the accident which had tied up both lanes. It seemed some tourist had slammed their Winnebago into a Smart Car, and Austin’s rubberneckers needed an eyeful. The gridlock continued, and growing ever more frustrated, I pulled out my phone and texted my date.

  Traffic. I’m a mile away.

  She didn’t respond. I was about to call her, when my phone chimed.

  I glanced down at the picture message. No accompanying words, but I didn’t need any. The top of her garter belt jutted out from her skirt. It was visibly pinned to black stockings. I licked my lips, ready to park and sprint the remaining blocks to the restaurant. Taking a deep breath, I soldiered on.

  When I finally entered Bess Bistro, I scanned the place eagerly. It didn’t take me long to find her in the dimly lit restaurant. She sat at the bar facing away from me sipping a martini. I watched as she placed her glass carefully on the surface in front of her. Her upswept hair accentuated her long, lovely neck which begged to be tasted. Seeing those stockings in the flesh made my temperature rise, and the way her midnight blue dress hugged her heart-shaped ass had me salivating.

  Some old dude with greying temples and a droopy porn mustache was giving her the full court press. He was turned sideways on his stool, leaning into her personal space and talking to her cleavage. She nodded politely in response to whatever nonsense he was spewing, as his lustful eyes continued to violate every inch of her exposed skin.

  A couple of years back, I might have punched him right in the ‘stache, but this was the new and improved me. The guy that didn’t fly into jealous rages or break irritating people into itty bitty bits. However, when he reached out and stroked her dangling earring, ‘Old Joe’ reared his ugly head. I was tempted to rip him off of his stool and toss him out the front door by the seat of his Depends. Instead, I took a moment and another deep breath. I had kids to think about now. Everything I did (or didn’t do) set an example for them. True, they were far too little to know what I might do here, but their blabbermouth aunts would be more than happy to fill them in later in life. As I stood contemplating the pros and cons of my next action, a far more civilized strategy occurred to me. I felt a devilish grin bloom on my face and I sauntered to the bar.

  I slid onto the empty barstool next to her. Reaching out, I picked up her drink and took a sip. “Is this martini dirty?”

  “Well if it wasn’t before, it certainly is now.” Her stunning eyes took in my tailored suit, and the corners of her mouth curled coyly as she reached out and reclaimed her drink from me. Her full sleeve of tattoos somehow meshed perfectly with the silky dark material she wore. She was dazzling, and I was glad I’d decided to wear her favorite tie.

  “What’s a woman like you doing sitting at a bar alone?” My greedy eyes devoured her plunging neckline and her glossy, full lips. She giggled quietly, and the way her fingertips trailed along the stem of her glass made me heady with anticipation. Mustache Rides shot me a dirty look and turned reluctantly back to his scotch.

  “Waiting on my fiancé.” She looked up at me from under her sultry lashes.

  “He made you wait?” I asked. She nodded, and the bartender who’d been hovering nearby approached. “Johnnie Blue. Make it a double.”

  “He’s a busy man.” Molly sighed dramatically, lifting her speared olives to her lips. She tugged one off showily with her teeth, her eyes fixed on mine.

  Oh...it was definitely on now.

  “He’s a fool,” I shot back.

  The bartender barely stifled a chuckle as he poured my whiskey. It was clear he thought I was trying to pick her up, and of course, I was. Though we owned a house and had children together, and it was my ring on that pretty finger of hers, these facts were all irrelevant.

  Tonight Molly
planned to make me work for it.

  She glanced at the bartender, and then back at me. She was well aware we had an audience. Her amusement was thinly veiled, but she kept a straight face and stayed in character.

  “How late is he?” I continued, my voice sounding wanton and thick.

  “Very.” Her decisive response reeked of promiscuity and I could feel the bartender assessing us curiously.

  “I can keep you company while you wait if you like.” I leaned my elbows onto the bar and looked her over casually. She turned toward me and crossed her long legs. She was purposely drawing my attention to one of her best features, and I allowed my eyes to drop. My gaze trailed from the black straps at her ankles all the way up to her risqué hemline that ended far above the knee.

  “Buy me another drink and maybe I’ll let you buy me dinner.” With that, she downed the last swallow of her martini. With a wicked smile, I turned back to the bartender who shook his head in blatant admiration.

  “Oh, she definitely needs another one of those.” I stated. Mustache Man muttered something and abandoned his drink on the bar. The bartender glanced at Molly, and the gentle curl of her lips made him blush so profusely that his bald head looked sunburnt.

  I’d slipped the hostess fifty bucks, and she seated us in a secluded brick nook near the back of the restaurant. The moment we were alone we both burst into laughter. I’d purposely chosen to sit across from her. I was enjoying our game, and made a point not to lay a finger on her throughout dinner. Her response was to spend the entire meal making me regret it. She pulled out all the stops, finding new and innovative ways to draw my attention to her charms. We made every effort to avoid discussing our favorite subject, the kids. It was refreshing. I reveled in the chase, and I could tell she enjoyed being pursued.

  A date night had been a good call. We were long overdue for some couple time. The opportunity to ask her out had presented itself when I’d come home from work a few days before and found her trying on a sexy new dress. It was a clingy, fancy thing, and she looked unbelievable in it. The sight of her stopped me dead in my tracks and I stared with admiration at her shapely tattooed back. I wanted to attack her on the spot, but the twins were bouncing nearby in the exersaucers.

  Molly had been surveying her reflection critically, but her eyes softened when she spotted me in the mirror.

  “Where’d you get the dress?” I asked.

  She batted her lashes, looking a little bashful. “I treated myself. For getting back down to my pre-baby size.”

  “You’ve never looked better.” I blurted, and then wondered if she’d take it in some insulting way. The smoldering smile she wore seemed to imply that she took it exactly the way I meant it. “I want to take you somewhere to show it off.”

  “Cocktails.” She gushed, as excitement lit up her face. “I quit pumping a week ago, and I’m dying for a drink!”

  The next day, I called my sister Tamryn and asked her to watch the twins. Tamz agreed without hesitating, saying she’d bring her daughters so they could savor the flavor of multiple nightly wake up calls. I told her I was surprising Molly with an overnight getaway, and asked her not to say anything.

  After Molly politely declined dessert, I leaned closer and murmured. “That’s quite a dress.”

  “Why, thank you.” A knowing look passed over her features, and she seemed to debate whether we were still playing games or not.

  “What are you wearing underneath?” I loosened my tie, and the wicked look I got in response made me shake my head. “If you say nothing, I might have to take you right here and now.”

  She tortured me with a throaty laugh, and the sensual way she nibbled her lip was my personal kryptonite. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “The only way you could disappoint me is if you refuse to come back to my room with me.” I replied.

  She arched a perfectly sculpted brow. “Your room?”

  “I have a hotel room a few blocks away.” I stared at her intently, waiting for an argument.

  “Well why the hell didn’t you say so?” She grabbed her purse and slid out of the booth. “Pay the damn check and let’s blow this joint.”

  I was struck speechless, having expected some protest. She headed off toward the lady’s room and I waved the waitress down before she could change her mind.

  We left her car at Bess’s and barely said a word to each other all the way to The Driskill. I felt nearly as impatient as I had the first night we’d slept together. This would be the first time since the twins were born that we weren’t “racing the babies” and a salacious tension settled over us. The air in the cab of the truck felt heavy and thick. I glanced at her and saw that she was watching me intently, her baby blue eyes reeling me in. I had to wrestle my gaze away and fight to focus on the road.

  By the time we got to the hotel, I could no longer resist touching her. My hand went to her lower back as we walked past the front desk. The clerk shot Molly a vicious glare, but Molly failed to notice. She seemed far too fixated on getting to the room.

  As the elevator door closed, my hand slid across the smooth material of her dress down to her mouth-watering ass. Gripping it firmly, I pulled her against me.

  “Oh, the things I want to do to you.” I growled, and brought my lips down aggressively on hers. When her tongue plundered my mouth, I was tempted to pull the emergency stop and throw caution to the wind.

  We somehow managed to make it into the room fully clothed, but quickly remedied that situation once I’d kicked the door closed behind us. My jacket was off in a flash, and she fumbled with my belt as I struggled with my tie, unwilling to remove my lips from hers.

  We took out our pent up frustration on the room, making quite the mess of the place. Our poor maid really earned her money the morning after. In the midst of our sexcapades, we’d knocked a picture off the wall and one of the towel racks came loose not long after. The bite mark she left on my shoulder stung like a bitch for days, and in my eagerness, I accidentally ripped her new dress beyond repair.

  It was totally worth all the residual pain and the extra charges to the credit card. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, and Molly told me that I broke the record for the number of orgasms she’d had in one session.

  “I’m so sleepy.” She mumbled as she came out of the steamy bathroom. Seeing her freshly showered and bundled in the plush terrycloth robe made me want to unwrap her like a present. “Ready to go?”

  “In a bit. Come lie down with me,” I coaxed. She climbed under the covers and into my arms.

  She sighed, and I felt the warmth of her breath and her eyelashes flutter against the flesh of my neck. “I love you, Joe.”

  Lazy and content, I kissed her fragrant, damp hair. “I love you too, baby girl.”

  Naturally, she drifted off, and listening to her peaceful, even breathing I knew I wouldn’t be far behind her. Living with two infants means you’re constantly sleep deprived, and sex had always made us drowsy. Relishing the feel of her warm, smooth curves against me, I fell into a peaceful sleep.

  The following morning, the sun was high in the sky when her gasp blasted me awake.

  “Oh my God! Joe, wake up!” Her panicked voice caused my heart to race, but I quickly fell back on the bed when I remembered where we were. She vaulted from the bed and fumbled to put on her black see-through panties. Her frantic eyes scoured the room. “Where the hell is my bra?”

  “Calm down, baby girl.” I rolled to look at her, propping myself up on one elbow.

  “I told Tamryn we’d be home by ten-thirty!” She struggled braless into what was left of her dress. “Can you please call her? I swear I set that damn alarm.”

  “You did.” I replied, calmly. “I turned it off.”

  She gaped at me, half pissed half disbelieving. Her eyes narrowed, and the look she wore was deadly. “What?”

  “Molly.” I drew out her name in a cautionary way. I rushed on to explain that Tamryn had planned to spend the night.

  “Yo
u could have asked.” She snapped, her tiny hands balling into fists.

  “You would have said no.” I shot back, sitting up on the bed. My frustration got the better of me. “You always say no.”

  “So what?” She scowled. “If you don’t like my choice, you’ll just trick me?”

  I flinched, stunned by her accusation. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have been. I realized that whether rational or not, I’d just landed in “The Draven Zone”. It wasn’t my favorite place to be. Molly’s ex was an abusive, cowardly fuck. He’d played a lot of mind games with her in addition to repeatedly hurting her, and even thinking his name pissed me off. Though it wasn’t fair for her to associate my blissful prank with his behavior, I supposed she’d say the same about the overprotective moments she had to endure as a result of my past with Jessica.

  After I put two and two together, I tried to apologize, but Molly was already trembling and angry tears rolled down her scorching cheeks. Even the fresh change of clothes I’d packed her didn’t seem to score me any brownie points.

  As she came out of the bathroom, I reached for her. “Hey.”

  She shrugged my hand off of her arm and hurriedly stuffed her ripped dress into her purse.

  I felt my face grow warm, and I paused to subdue my frustration before I spoke again. “Molly, I made a mistake. There are many more where that one came from, I’m afraid. I wanted to give you a break, and I knew you wouldn’t take it willingly.”

  “You could have just told me last night.” The bite in her words was unmistakable.

  “You wouldn’t have stayed.” I sighed. “And you needed a good night’s sleep.”

  She maintained her silence but nodded. A moment later, she walked out of the room. Grabbing my suitcase, I trailed after her to the elevator. I had hoped that the night away would prove to her that the twins would be fine without us. She’d been skittish about entrusting them to anyone for any length of time. I’d wanted to prove to her that we could take a honeymoon without it bringing about the apocalypse. In the end, all I’d accomplished was erasing any trace of fun we’d had the night before.