by Linda Turner
“Really? Then I guess I’ll have to see what I can do about that. Where does it ache? Here? How about here?”
“Oh, yes!”
With nothing more than a touch, he had her arching under him, his name a cry of pleasure on her lips, and there was no more time for teasing. Their clothes disappeared, their blood heated, and the world outside her bedroom ceased to exist. There was only the two of them, driving each other crazy with the slow glide of a hand, a mouth, a tongue.
On the verge of losing all reason, Rachel struggled to hang on to her common sense. She couldn’t let him make love to her without a condom. As much as she wanted a baby—and the timing couldn’t have been more perfect for her to get pregnant!—she couldn’t bring herself to use Turk that way.
And that’s when she knew she was in serious trouble. He didn’t want to settle down and get married and have children for years…and that had nothing to do with her. So why was she putting her hopes and dreams on hold for him?
She should have stopped him right then, used the excuse that her ankle was hurting her and apologized for waiting so long to tell him. But she couldn’t. Not when she wanted him so badly. “You have a condom, don’t you?” she asked huskily, fighting the sudden need to cry. What was wrong with her?
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll protect you,” he promised, reaching for his wallet. “Now, where were we?”
Even as he asked, he knew. They were in the middle of something damn hot, something so intense that he’d have completely forgotten about protection if she hadn’t. And it was all her fault. After all this time, she was finally in his arms, and he readily admitted that no woman had ever tied him in knots quite the way she did. There was something about her skin, the soft beauty of her breasts, the way she filled his arms as if she were made for him. And when she took him deep, he was hers.
He wanted her desperate for him, but he was the one who felt desire sink its claws into him. She moved under him…and made him burn. A groan ripped from his throat. Then she softly moaned his name, her breathless whisper calling to the deepest part of his soul, and what was left of his control snapped. Moving with her, in her, he drove them both to the edge of reason…and over.
She was so close to falling in love with him that her heart ached with it.
Pacing the confines of her bedroom long after he’d returned to his clinic, Rachel tried to tell herself she was imagining things. She was just confusing sex with love.
But she knew better. She’d been in love, and she knew what it felt like. And she wasn’t going there again. It had nothing to do with Turk. He was nothing like her ex…except that she’d thought her ex was wonderful when she’d fallen in love with him, too. Then, when he finally told her he’d had a vasectomy a week before they got married, she realized that she’d never really known the man she promised to spend her life with.
She wasn’t making that mistake again. She couldn’t. She wasn’t getting married again, wasn’t putting her trust in another man. Even if that man did make her bones melt and her heart pound. She just couldn’t take that kind of chance. Because if he turned out not to be the man she thought he was, she didn’t think she’d be able to bear it.
The phone rang then, startling her, and she hesitated. If that was Turk, she couldn’t talk to him. Not now. Not when she wanted to run to him and from him at one and the same time. She couldn’t see him again, couldn’t make love to him again, couldn’t chance losing her heart to him. It would just hurt too much.
The phone rang for the fourth time—and the answering machine kicked on. “Rachel? It’s me? Are you there? Pick up.”
At the sound of her best friend’s voice, Rachel wilted in relief. “Hi, Sandy. What’s going on?”
“What’s today?”
Rachel frowned. “I don’t know…Tuesday? The…what? Fifteenth? Sixteenth? Oh, my God, it’s your birthday!”
“Got it in one! The big four-O.”
“I’m so sorry! I should have called. Things have been crazy, but that’s no excuse. So how does it feel?”
“Like somebody died!” she groaned. “I need to go out tonight, to go dancing, to feel young again! Wanna go with me? I don’t want to go alone.”
Caught off guard, Rachel cringed at the thought. She didn’t want to go out, didn’t want to deal with the smoke and the flirts and the whole scene. But she and Sandy had been friends forever, and she was right—she shouldn’t go out alone on her fortieth birthday.
“Sure, I’ll go,” she said, trying to infuse some enthusiasm into her voice. “I’ll be designated driver. What time do you want me to pick you up?”
“Six,” she said promptly. “We’ll go eat first. How does the Bayou sound?”
“Expensive,” Rachel laughed. “But you don’t turn forty every day, so it’ll be my treat.”
“Oh, no! I didn’t mean for you to—”
“I know. I want to. On my fortieth, you can return the favor.”
“There you go, rubbing it in that you’re younger,” Sandy teased. “You could at least look your age! You’re thirty-five, for heaven’s sake! When are you going to look it?”
“Ask my grandmother,” she laughed. “She still doesn’t look her age and she’s going to be eighty in August! Some of us just have good genes.”
“And some of us don’t,” she grumbled. “Maybe I should look into Botox.”
“Don’t you dare! You’re beautiful the way you are. I’ll see you at six.”
Still smiling when she hung up, Rachel turned to her closet. What was she going to wear to the Bayou?
Chapter 9
Fighting the need to call her after work, Turk told himself to give the lady…and himself…some space. He was still reeling from the loving they’d shared earlier in the day. And he didn’t mind admitting that that scared the hell out of him. He’d thought of nothing but her all afternoon. The heat of her, the silky softness, the taste of her. And it was driving him crazy. How had she done it? How had she gotten under his skin so easily? And what the heck was he going to do about it?
He needed to go out, clear his head, maybe play some pool and just forget about the woman for a while. There was a new place that had just opened between Hunter’s Ridge and Austin that was drawing big crowds. Maybe he’d check it out.
But first he had to go home and change.
Yeah, right, that irritating voice in his head mocked. You don’t need to go home to change. You want to go next door and check on Rachel.
Swearing, he couldn’t deny it. He was going to check on her, just to make sure she wasn’t having any more problems with her ankle, and then he’d leave. It’d take all of thirty seconds.
Confident he could walk away from her with no trouble, he pulled into his own driveway, only to swear when he saw that her car was gone. So much for checking on her, he thought with a scowl. If she felt well enough to drive, there obviously wasn’t a damn thing wrong with her ankle.
So why the hell was he suddenly so irritated? he wondered as he strode into his house to change. He should have been relieved. If she’d been home and he’d gotten within touching distance of her, he’d have been hard pressed to keep his hands off her. And he’d sworn he was going to back off, dammit! She’d just made it easy for him. So why was he still here? He had a game of pool waiting for him.
Dinner was fantastic—and Rachel had to force herself to eat it. She shouldn’t have come, she decided grimly. She really wasn’t in the mood. Every time she let her guard down, her thoughts wandered to Turk. Had he come by to check her ankle again? He’d said he might. She should have called him and told him she was going out—
Frowning at the direction of her thoughts, she stiffened. What was wrong with her? She and Turk weren’t dating. There was no commitment between them—she wasn’t making the mistake of acting as if there was. She didn’t report to the man just because they’d made love.
And it wasn’t love! she told herself fiercely. Sex. That’s all it was. As much as that offended
the romantic in her soul, she refused to consider the possibility that what they’d shared could be anything else.
“So I told him the next time he decided to buy drugs on the street, he could use his own money.”
Caught up in her musings, Rachel only just then heard what Sandy said. “What?”
She grinned. “So I finally got your attention. Where’ve you been? What’s his name?”
Heat spilled into her cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course you do. But that’s okay—you don’t have to tell me about him until you’re ready.”
Thankful she hadn’t pushed her to tell her more, she arched a brow at her. “So where are we going now?”
“There’s this new country-western place…”
Rachel winced. “Country-western? C’mon, Sandy, look how we’re dressed! We can’t go to a place like that dressed like we’re going to the symphony or something.”
“What?” she asked, frowning down at her black lace cocktail dress. “This old thing? Nobody’s going to look twice at me in this.”
Grinning, Rachel knew better. “Nice try, but you could wear your grandmother’s flannel nightgown and stop traffic and you know it.”
Her green eyes danced with mischief. “Then just think what I can do dressed like this. Let’s go.”
Just as Rachel had predicted, they drew the eye of every man in the place when they walked into McCall’s Saloon and Dance Hall fifteen minutes later. Thirty seconds later, Sandy was on the dance floor with a tall, dark-haired cowboy with a wicked grin. Left to her own devices, Rachel made her way to the bar. Before she’d even climbed onto a bar stool, two different men asked her to dance. With the irony of the situation not lost on her, she politely but firmly turned them down flat. All this time, when she’d been going to bars around the medical center, hoping to find a suitable father for the baby she hoped to have, she hadn’t once stood out in a crowd the way she did tonight. If she’d known over-dressing was all she had to do to get the attention of just about every man in the bar, she would have done it weeks ago!
Now’s your chance. There’s bound to be a smart, caring, kind man somewhere in the crowd who can give you a baby…if you still want one.
She winced. Of course she still wanted a baby…so badly that just thinking about it made her want to cry. But as much as she longed to feel her own child growing inside her, she knew she was never going to get pregnant by a man she didn’t even know. She didn’t know why she’d ever thought she could go through with such a thing, but everything had changed when she and Turk—
“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you. C’mon, let’s dance.”
Blinking in surprise at the man grinning at her as if they’d known each other for years, she frowned. “I’m sorry, but do I know you?”
“Not yet, but that’s just a technicality,” he retorted, winking at her. “We were married in another life. Don’t you remember? You were Josephine and—”
“Let me guess,” she stopped him, laughing, “you were the little man himself.”
“I’m not surprised you didn’t recognize me right away,” he replied. “I’m taller this time around. I like it.”
Stepping through the saloon’s front door, Turk took a second for his eyes to adjust to the shadowy lighting, then headed for the bar for a beer. He’d taken only three steps, however, when his gaze fell on a woman flirting with a man at the far end of the bar.
Rachel.
She was with another man.
Stunned, he stopped short. This didn’t make sense. Rachel wasn’t the type of woman who would make love with one man in the afternoon, then go out with a different one in the evening. Granted, he hadn’t known her all that long, but he’d seen her with her friends and family and customers, and he would have sworn she had more principles than that.
His eyes, however, weren’t deceiving him, he acknowledged grimly as his gaze skirted to the Casanova grinning at Rachel with lust in his eyes. The jackass wanted her. And from the smile on her face, she was thoroughly enjoying his company.
Until that moment in time, Turk had never considered himself a jealous man. But just watching Rachel smile at another man really chapped his hide. It would serve her right if he stormed over to her and the jerk monopolizing her and demanded to know what the hell she thought she was doing. But he wouldn’t, by God! He’d be damned if he’d act like a Neanderthal, especially when they weren’t even dating!
For all of two seconds, he gave serious consideration to leaving. But he’d come there for a beer and a game of pool, and by God, nothing was getting in the way of that…especially a woman who thought so little of him and what they’d shared that afternoon that she’d almost immediately gone out with someone else!
His face set in hard, unyielding lines, he turned away, determined to not even look in her direction again.
Fate, however, had other ideas. Before he could take a single step, Rachel looked up and saw him glaring at her. A blind man couldn’t have missed the shock that flared in her eyes. Cursing, Turk stepped over to the bar and curtly ordered a beer.
He didn’t look her way again, but he wasn’t surprised when she joined him a few minutes later. She wasn’t the kind of woman who would duck her head and run from anything or anyone. “We need to talk,” she said quietly.
He didn’t spare her a glance. “I have nothing to say to you. Go back to your date.”
“He’s not my date,” she retorted. “Dammit, Turk, will you look at me? I’m here with a friend.”
“Yeah, right,” he sneered. “I saw him.”
Rachel wanted to shake him. The second her eyes had met his and she saw his face turn to stone, she’d known he’d jumped to all the wrong conclusions. “My friend, Sandy, turned forty today,” she told his back. “She wanted to celebrate. She’s the blonde in the black lace dress on the dance floor.
“You don’t owe me any explanations—”
“Maybe not,” she replied, “but I’m giving you one, anyway. I don’t want any misunderstandings between us.”
He laughed sarcastically. “Oh, yeah, it’s crystal clear.” Nodding toward the man watching her every move from the far end of the bar, he said, “Tell Sandy I said hi.”
His words struck her like a slap, and she felt the sting all the way to her soul. He didn’t believe her. Why did that hurt so badly? “His name’s not Sandy! To be perfectly honest, I don’t know what it is, and I don’t care. But you’re not going to believe me, so what’s the point of talking about it, right?”
She was going home. Turning her back on him, she hugged herself, searching the dance floor for Sandy. She didn’t have to look far. Right at that moment, her friend rushed up with a huge smile on her face, tugging a tall cowboy behind her. “Look who’s here, Rachel! You remember Jack Scott, don’t you? He and my brother were roommates in college. We thought we’d go somewhere quiet and catch up on old times. Want to go with us?”
Fighting the need to cry, she forced a smile. “Actually, I’d rather not, if you don’t mind. If Jack can take you home, I think I’ll call it a night. I’ve got a headache.”
Immediately concerned, Sandy frowned. “Why didn’t you say so? I’ll drive you home.” Glancing over her shoulder at Jack, she said, “You don’t mind, do you, Jack? I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rachel said. “I can drive myself home. I’ll be fine. You two have a good time. I’ll call you tomorrow, Sandy.”
She walked out without a backward look and never heard Turk swear. She was with a friend. Dammit! It had taken him weeks to talk her into going out with him, and even longer to get her into bed, and he’d just ruined it all. Infuriated with himself, he bit off a curse. He wouldn’t blame her if she never spoke to him again. It was no more than he deserved.
He had to find a way to make this up to her, he thought grimly. And the only way to start was with an apology, the sooner, the better. His jaw set at a determined ang
le, he strode out after her, but by the time he reached the parking lot, she was already gone. His shoulders slumping, he dropped his head and swore. Damn.
Her house was dark, her driveway empty, when he pulled into his own driveway fifteen minutes later. Concerned, he frowned. She should have easily beat him home…unless she had some kind of car trouble. Frowning at the thought, he considered the possibility, only to dismiss it. She would have taken the same route he had—it was the only way home—and he’d have seen her if she’d had some kind of breakdown. She’d probably gone for a drive, instead, to clear the cobwebs out of her head. She’d be home in a little while. In the meantime, he had to find a way to make up for his stupidity. Where could he get roses at ten o’clock at night?
It was almost eleven when Rachel finally went home. She’d spent the past hour at the bakery, working on a new pie recipe to enter in the county fair next month, but she hadn’t gotten very far. And it was all Turk’s fault. He kept pushing his way into her thoughts, making it next to impossible for her to concentrate. How could he accuse her of being there with another man? Did he really think she would go out with someone else just hours after she’d made love with him? What kind of woman did he think she was?
I wouldn’t go there if I were you. Remember that doctor you’ve been looking for? The kind, caring one you were looking for to give you a baby? How do you think Turk would feel about you if he found out about that?
Pulling into her driveway, she cringed at the thought. Okay, so she wasn’t an angel. For a while there, she’d gotten caught up in the panic of never having a baby and she’d almost done something stupid. Everyone made mistakes. Thankfully, she’d come to her senses.
That didn’t mean she no longer worried about her biological clock running out, she thought as she started up the front walk. She’d just realized that she wasn’t so desperate that she’d do anything to have a baby.
Caught up in her thoughts, she stepped onto her front porch…and almost tripped over the large rose bush blocking her front door. Planted in a five-gallon bucket, the three yellow roses that clung to the plant were turning brown and more than a little the worse for wear. “What the—”
