A hard light in her eyes, Roxanne drawled, “Is that right? You figure they're still eating?”
Cleo nodded. “Yep, that's Babs's black Caddy parked in front of the restaurant. They meet every Wednesday for lunch—probably enjoying tearing Maria from limb to limb with their salads.”
“No doubt. Think I'll go join them,” Roxanne said, picking up her brightly wrapped package and card.
Cleo looked at her, frowning. “Now why would you want to do that?”
“Because dear Cleo, I went to high school with them, and I know where all the bodies are buried. I have some very clear memories of things I'm sure the pair of them would like forgotten.” She smiled tightly. “Think I'll go remind them.”
Roxanne pushed open the heavy door of the restaurant and instantly spotted her quarry. The two women were seated near one of the windows, their fashionably coiffed heads together.
Waving to Hank who flashed her a wide smile, she motioned to the table where Reba and Babs sat unaware of the thunderbolt about to descend upon them. “I'll be joining my friends,” Roxanne called out gaily to Hank.
Reba and Babs looked up startled when Roxanne pulled out a chair and sat down at their table. Her eyes bright, Roxanne looked the pair of them over. “My goodness, but you two haven't hardly changed in twenty years. However do you do it?”
Reba and Babs had been three years ahead of Roxanne in school. Usually, lordly juniors wouldn't have given a lowly freshman the time of day, except when the lowly freshman just happened to be the daughter of one of the leading families in the valley and was also one of the most popular kids in the small high school. Reba and Babs had also been friends with Sloan's first wife, Nancy—Nancy had been the ringleader of the trio, but even then Nancy had had her eye on the Ballinger fortune and she had quickly swept Roxanne up in their exclusive little circle. Roxanne had been flattered, but it didn't take her long to decide that she didn't really like Nancy, Babs, and Reba very much and she drifted away. But not, she thought grimly, as she faced the two women, before knowing quite a few things they'd rather she didn't.
It was Babs and Reba's turn to be flattered. After all, this was Roxanne complimenting them and like a pair of plump pigeons in the sun they preened and cooed.
“What a nice thing to say,” said Reba with a pleased smile.
“Why thank you,” added Babs. “That's a real compliment coming from you.”
“Yes, it is,” Roxanne said. She hadn't been lying: Babs and Reba did look great for having passed their big 4-0 birthdays. The two women complemented each other, Babs was dark-haired, dark-eyed, and Reba was blond and blue-eyed. They had kept their figures, although neither was as slim as they had been in high school—and their vicious tongues.
Roxanne glanced at the menu that Sally, the main waitress in The Blue Goose besides Hank, gave her, and asked, “So what would you recommend for lunch?”
“Oh, well, we both have to watch our weight so we ordered the grilled chicken salad,” Babs said. Her gaze envious, she assessed Roxanne's weight to the pound. “You can eat anything you want.”
“Don't you believe it—I didn't get this way pigging out on ice cream and chips.” She smiled at Babs. “The way you did when you were pregnant in high school.” Ignoring Babs's gasp, she went on coolly, “Whatever happened about that anyway? Abortion? Or adoption?”
Having vanquished Babs, she turned her icy golden eyes on Reba. “And you, whatever happened with your first marriage?” She frowned prettily. “Don't I remember something about you running away with a Mexican kid? Oh, yeah, that's right—your folks caught up with you before you actually got married.”
Roxanne smiled into the two stunned faces. “Funny the things you remember from high school, isn't it?” Her face fierce, she bent closer to the two women. “And if you two bitches don't hold your tongues and treat Maria Rios kindly, I'll just have to share my memories with several folks in town. In fact, I think as a sign of good faith, you should invite Maria to have lunch with you next week. Sort of show the community that you're rallying behind her. A good idea, don't you think?”
Reba swallowed. “Uh, why, yes. Excellent. I'll call her this afternoon.”
“Oh, yes, we'd be more than happy to throw our support her way.”
Roxanne stood up. “See that you do. Otherwise …”
Turning her back on them, Roxanne strolled up to the counter. “Hey, Hank, could I have one of your half-pound hamburgers to go?”
Ten minutes later, her hamburger resting in its foam carton, Roxanne smiled and walked out of the restaurant.
Back at the house, she split the hamburger with the dogs, signed the card, left the package and card in the middle of Jeb's pillow. It might not be a particularly romantic present, but, she thought with a grin, she'd make it up to him.
Jeb showed up earlier than usual and if Roxanne was disappointed that he hadn't remembered Valentine's Day, she didn't show it. After the dogs had given him a welcome worthy of someone returned from the dead, the same as they did every night, Jeb pulled Roxanne into his arms and kissed her quite, quite thoroughly.
“Happy Valentine's Day,” he said as he lifted his mouth from hers.
Heart thumping madly, nearly swooning from his kiss, she arched one brow and murmured, “And that's it? A kiss?”
He grinned. “What a mercenary little witch.” He dropped a kiss on her nose. “No that's not it.” He swept low in a bow and said, “If the princess will come with me, I'll show you your present.”
Mystified, she linked her arm in his and followed him out to the truck. Lifting up a folded cloth, he said, “I know this will sound kinky, but would you mind putting this on like a blindfold. I don't want you to see it until have you in the right position.”
Muffling a chuckle, she put on the blindfold.
Jeb started the truck and drove down the winding gravel road that led to her place. A couple of minutes later, he turned the vehicle around so that it was pointing in the direction that they had come from.
“Not yet,” he said as he turned off the ignition. “Let me get you outside.”
Eaten alive with curiosity, Roxanne waited impatiently as he got out of the truck and came around to open her door. His hands around her waist, he lifted her from the truck and set her on the ground. “Turn around. But don't look yet,” he said softly in her ear.
He hesitated and muttered, “Christ, I hope this isn't a bust. It took me weeks of tramping the woods to find the right piece of wood and then you don't want to know how many nights I was late because I'd spent a couple of hours working on it. I wanted to make something for you and this was the only thing that I could think of that you didn't already have.”
He whipped off the blindfold.
Roxanne stared, feeling a lump forming in her throat and tears almost spilling from her eyes. In front of her, fastened to a stout wooden post newly cemented into the ground, was the most romantic gift she'd ever been given in her life.
It was a wooden sign. Not just any old sign, but one lovingly made from oak burl wood. Jeb had smoothed out the edges until the large slab was almost in the shape of a heart. With a router, he'd carved out in large letters, ROXY’ S ROOST: there was an arrow beneath the name, pointing in the direction of the house. The letters were painted in bold black and then coat after coat of urethane had been lovingly applied until the sign glistened in the fading sunlight.
“Uh, I know it's not much. And some women wouldn't think it was very romantic,” he began in an apologetic voice. “But I thought, if you started that business of yours, you'd want a sign or some thing. …”
She turned around and flung her arms around his neck. Raining kisses on his face, she cried, “It's perfect. Perfect! And I think it's the most romantic thing in the world.”
“You do? I mean really? You like it?”
“I love it.” And she kissed him.
The weather was nice enough that night that she and Jeb decided to barbecue T-bone steaks outside on the rear t
errace. They'd shared a very nice, very long shower together after viewing the sign so dinner ran a little late. And since they had no plans for the evening, they hadn't bothered to fully dress after the shower. Roxanne wore an apricot silk caftan and Jeb had shrugged into a loose pair of sweatpants and his new T-shirt—the new T-shirt and card had caused more delay as Jeb had thanked her so explicitly that another shower was called for.
They had lingered over the meal and now the remains of their dinner was spread out on the cheerful yellow and green tiled table in front of them. Dawg and Boss were gnawing noisily on the bones under the table. The two humans were loafing in their chairs, talking idly.
Roxanne took a sip of her wine and looked across in the direction of her neighbor. At this distance the only sign of the house had been its lights and while she hadn't been keeping score, she realized that she hadn't noticed the lights on in a long time. She frowned.
“You know just about everybody in the valley, don't you?” she asked Jeb.
“Yep. Just about.”
She motioned toward the area where she usually saw the lights across the way. “Do you know who lives over there? That house about halfway up the foothills? Almost directly opposite of mine?”
Jeb knew exactly which house she meant. “I might. Why?”
She smiled, that warm, beguiling smile that made his toes tingle … and other parts, too. “Promise you won't laugh?” she asked almost shyly.
“Promise.”
She took another sip of wine. “It's silly, but I call him, although I don't know whether it's a he, she, or a whole family, my neighbor. One of the first nights I was here, I looked out across the valley and there it was, his light shining like a beacon in the darkness.” She giggled. “It was like a welcome light. I started talking to him whenever I notice the light on and I've even shared a toast or two with him. He's like, I don't know, a secret friend or something.”
Jeb looked at his glass of wine and smiled. Roxanne hadn't been to his house yet—there'd been no need. He remembered looking out and seeing her light and cursing the day she'd returned to the valley. Funny how things change.
“So whose house is it?”
“Come here,” he said, pushing back from the table and indicating his lap.
She complied, saying as she settled down against him, “Ooh, are you going to tell me a story? About the deranged dope dealer who lives across the way?”
He laughed. “Nope. Sorry to disappoint you, primrose, but no deranged dope dealer. The house belongs to a really great guy. Handsome, charming—everything a maiden could wish for.”
Roxanne looked at him, her expression skeptical. “Why don't I believe you?”
“Honest,” Jeb said, nipping her ear with his teeth. “He's a real prince of a guy. Kind to animals. Hardworking. You can ask Mingo if you don't believe me.”
Ignoring the flash of warmth that slid through her at his touch, she stared at him. “And who is this paragon? Have I met him?”
Jeb grinned. “Oh, Princess, you've done more than meet him—you've been screwing him blind for several weeks now.”
Roxanne sat up, her eyes wide. “You? It's your house? You're my secret friend? You mean to tell me I've been pouring my heart out to you all this time?”
Jeb spread his hands. “You got it, sweet-cakes.”
“Well, I'll be damned.” She squirmed around to look across the valley. “You really live there?”
“Not much lately, as you may have noticed—there's this insatiable siren who keeps me occupied. But yes, that's my house over there. I bought it about five years ago—thought it was time I settled down and had my own place instead of renting all the time.”
Roxanne didn't know what to say. It gave her a funny feeling to realize that all those times she'd looked wistfully across the valley and babbled like an idiot that it had been to Jeb of all people. Of course, he hadn't heard what she'd said, but still!
“Do you see my lights?” she asked.
He nodded. “Sure do.”
She swung around to face him, her legs hanging on either side of him. Arms around his neck, she sent him a sly glance. “You ever talk to my lights?”
He cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. It was hard to think when Roxanne was sitting in his lap, her breasts inches from his chest and her lower body was pressing against his growing erection. Jeb was not a stupid man. And admitting that he, yes, he had talked to her lights, had cursed her lights, seemed like a very stupid idea right now. She brushed her lips across his and he groaned. It would be, he decided, the height of stupidity. So he did what any not-stupid guy would do: he lied.
“Uh, no,” he muttered. “Never did.”
Her eyes gleamed and she wiggled on his lap. “You're lying. You did. And I'll bet you said something horrible and nasty.”
“Why would I do that?” he demanded in an injured tone.
“Because you didn't like me very much then,” she breathed against his mouth, her lips teasing him. “I'll bet you hated the sight of my lights burning up here.” She ground her hips against the solid length of him. “I'll even bet that you cursed the day I returned to the valley.” Her tongue slid between his lips and she kissed him deeply, crushing her breasts against his chest.
Jeb's brain turned to mashed potatoes. His arms went around her and he returned her kiss with interest. “God!” he said against her mouth when he could. “You feel so good.”
“I do, don't I?” she purred. She wiggled around on his lap, stretching and pulling her caftan free. A flick of her hand and it went flying. Running a finger down his chest, she said, “Your turn, big boy. Off with your clothes. I have to punish you for being such a bad, bad boy and not telling me sooner that you're my very, very special neighbor.”
Like a madman Jeb struggled out of his clothes. When he was naked, she caught his swollen, aching penis between her legs. She hovered over him and then inch by sweet inch she sank down on him.
His mind blurring, his fingers tightened around her hips. “You're right—oh please, please punish me for being such a bad boy,” he muttered thickly. “Please, please punish me …”
Chapter
15
Long after Roxanne had gone to sleep that night, Jeb lay awake beside her in their bed. His thoughts were not comforting. He was in trouble. Big bad trouble. And he was scared. He wasn't quite certain how it had happened, but somewhere along the way, he'd broken his own commandment: Do Not Get Serious. He wasn't ready to swear his undying devotion, but he was bleakly aware that he wasn't far from it. And that a declaration of love was probably the last thing that Roxanne wanted to hear from him.
He shifted slightly in bed, his gaze falling on Roxanne as the faint moonlight streamed in and illuminated her sleeping features. As he stared at her, at that arrogant little nose and sassy mouth, something almost like pain moved in his chest. How had she slipped under his guard? When had she slipped under his guard?
After Sharon had left him and he'd shaken himself out of the morose pit he'd fallen into, he'd sworn that from then on he was going to be a love ’em and leave ’em sort of guy. He'd kept that vow. There had been many women in his life during the twelve or so years since his second divorce and he liked them all, enjoyed them all, and parted from them without a backward glance. Maybe there had been one or two he might have considered weakening his resolve for, but he always managed to pull back in time.
He grimaced in the moonlight. Ha! Pull back in time. What a laugh. He'd never stood a chance with Roxanne. One day she had been that smart-mouthed little brat just daring him to do anything about her wayward ways and he'd had to take up the dare. He smiled. And by God, hadn't she just hated him for that! She'd barely grown out of that stage and then suddenly she'd been the sassy, chic, the world is my oyster Roxanne. Those two incarnations hadn't caused him to lose any sleep, but just when he thought he had a handle on her, right before his eyes, she'd turned into the warm, intelligent, funny, and wonderful lover who lay beside him. She
charmed him, disarmed him, and he'd been a lost soul ever since.
His quest was hopeless, he knew that. No way was Roxanne ever going to settle for a bucolic life in Oak Valley—no matter what she claimed to the contrary. And after Sharon there was no way he was going to run the risk of tying himself to a woman who'd eventually grow bored with valley doings and be off like a shot for new and greener, more exciting pastures. Nope, he wasn't about to take the chance—not even for one that seemed to be currently happy as a bug in a rug living in the valley. Sharon's words still had the power to hit him like bullets and he was never going to leave himself open to that kind of pain again and another failed marriage. Nope. Uh-uh. Not him. No way. No how. Been there, done that.
It wasn't easy keeping his relationship with Roxanne on a light level—not when every instinct urged him to deepen what they had and take it to the ultimate conclusion—marriage. He sighed. Nope. Marriage wasn't for him. He was determined to revel in this time with her, however long it was, and let her have her head. And when she left him, he swallowed painfully, and when she left him as she would inevitably do he'd take comfort from his memories.
He brushed a kiss across Roxanne's nose and even in her sleep she seemed to sense him and turned to him, snuggling even closer. Her simple act made him feel like a heavyweight fighter had just punched him in the chest and for a moment he couldn't even breathe. Oh, God. He was definitely in trouble. Big time.
Roxanne was surprised that no one in the valley had yet discovered that she and Jeb were lovers. She knew that particular state of affairs wasn't going to last for very long and every day she braced herself for a phone call or a visit from a friend or relative demanding to know if the latest rumor was true.
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