“What’s so funny?” Tom asked her. “Is my shirt buttoned wrong?”
“No. You look fine.”
“Thanks.” He advanced into the living room. “So do you. As always.”
“I do not.” Darcy walked toward him. “But thanks, anyway.”
He sat on the leather couch situated in front of the picture window. “You’re welcome, anyway.”
Darcy sat at the other end of the couch…about as relaxed as she’d felt in high school when she’d been called into the principal’s office for questioning about that suspicious orange-dye-in-the-school-fountain incident. Her gaze skittered away from Tom’s. “So.
Tom.”
“So. Darcy.”
She glanced over at him. Saw him staring at her and waiting—for exactly what, she didn’t know. “Could this be more awkward?”
Tom nodded. “Sure. We could both be naked.”
A burst of laughter escaped Darcy. Embarrassed laughter. “It would only be fair. You’ve already seen me as close to naked as it gets. But not in a good way.”
“That’s true.”
Thanks. Darcy shied away from the whole naked issue. “Well, how about this for awkward? The house could be on fire.”
“Or your hair.”
Her hand went to her hair. “It’s not, is it?”
Tom looked her over. “Doesn’t seem to be.”
Finally relaxing some, Darcy decided that, this being her home, it pretty much made her the hostess for this little soiree. So again…she ought to say something first. “Can we do anything but skirt the issues here?”
“I don’t look good in a skirt—don’t ask me how I know—so I’ll go first. Just tell me why you don’t want me to leave tomorrow. Tell me why you don’t want that trust fund in Montana’s name. Tell me why you think you have to do everything yourself.”
Then, suddenly, surprisingly, he leaned toward her and reached out, gently cupping her chin as he drew her nearer. Darcy’s heart pounded, her breathing became ragged. Tom edged over…and he kissed her. With a tremendous amount of passion and caring. With a longing that had his arms around her and had Darcy melting into him and putting all her suppressed passion into returning the kiss. The feel of his mouth on hers, of his hands on her, just burned her.
Then he broke their kiss and pulled back. With his voice low and husky, he said, “That was a pretty honest kiss, Darcy. Tell me you don’t want me.”
Swallowing, Darcy could only stare at him. Finally, after a moment or two, she recovered and drew back, pulling away from his touch. “This changes nothing, Tom. A kiss is just a kiss.”
“I think it’s more than that. I saw your face in your bedroom when you thought I had another woman. You didn’t like it one bit.”
Even trapped, Darcy wouldn’t come clean. “I was just confused.”
“That wasn’t confusion I saw.”
“Then what was it?”
“Hurt.”
Stung, her lips pinched together, Darcy inhaled deeply. Boy, he pulled no punches. Well, neither did she. “Whatever. Tell me what Mom said she’d told me about you.”
“That I was here to make you fall in love with me and marry me.”
A brilliant heat suffused Darcy’s cheeks. “I see I’m going to have to kill my mother.”
Tom reached out again, this time taking Darcy’s hand and holding it, squeezing it gently. “No need. She’s not completely wrong.”
“She’s not? Completely?”
Tom shook his head. “No. Look, Darcy, I know I shouldn’t push you like I do. I just feel I have to. I never know when your mother will pop in and bring half the population of Buckeye with her. Or when Montana will wake up and need you. Or when the place will be overrun with long-in-the-tooth eligible bachelors.”
Darcy exhaled and looked at her hand in his. All but lost, it was. And that was just how she felt…unless Tom was close. “Well, I can’t argue with you there. That’s a pretty fair assessment of the past week.”
“Yep. And since that’s the case, can you try to give me what answers you can?”
Darcy’s tummy churned. “I’ll do my best,” she said quietly. This was too important to rush. Too important to rush? So there was her answer. She looked over at Tom, who was now sitting back with one arm stretched out along the sofa’s spine…and chickened out. “First you tell me why you feel you have the right to ask me for those answers.”
“What right?” Tom’s frowning expression told its own story. He sat forward on the couch and folded his hands together. “I don’t suppose I have any rights here, Darcy. Not if you don’t think so.”
Darcy slumped, feeling terrible. Could I be a bigger jerk? “You know, Tom, this is silly.” He looked over at her, his expression somber. “Seriously.” Sudden conviction spurred her on. “It is. You have every right to ask. I mean that. All I need to do is look at Montana to know who you are and what you stand for. You’re the only man in my life, except my father, who hasn’t cut and run at the first sign of difficulty.”
“That’s not my way,” he said quietly. “I wouldn’t ever do that to you.”
“I know,” she answered, just as quietly. “And that’s what is important to me—that I know you wouldn’t do that.” Really warming to her subject now, she turned slightly on the couch, resting a leg atop a leather cushion. “You’ve been by my side and on my side since the moment I met you. You’ve done nothing but be kind and offer reassurances—”
“I’m starting to get embarrassed.”
“Well, just wait. I’m not through singing your praises.”
His eyebrows rose. “You’re going to sing?”
“I might. Anyway, you’ve done more than stand by me and say encouraging things, Tom. You’ve done things. Everything from bringing Montana into the world almost a week ago…to putting up that garage-door opener for my mother an hour ago. And in between, there’ve been flowers and visits and an offer of a trust fund and even your name—your name, Tom. I just don’t know what to make of you.”
His grin, a shy, endearing one, all but melted Darcy’s bones. “Pretty terrific, aren’t I?”
Darcy smiled back at him, thinking—maybe fearing—she loved this man already. After one week—it couldn’t be love. It had to be muddled hormones. “Great. Now you’re Tom Terrific. Had enough of being the Lone Ranger?”
Tom’s expression turned serious. He crossed an ankle over his opposite knee. As always, he spoke slowly, with a drawl that gave the impression every word was well thought out. “Yes. Actually, I am tired of being the Lone Ranger, Darcy. I want more than what I have. And I don’t mean money. See, for the last few years, since my father passed away, I’d about decided that my ranch and my solitary life up in Montana would be all I—”
“Solitary? Look at you. I would have thought there’d be women crawling all over you every time you stepped out of the house.” The words were out of Darcy’s mouth before she could stop them. Her face heated up again.
But Tom managed a grin. “Thank you. But it’s not like that. I’m not in town much, and I don’t go looking when I am. Still, I’ve known women, of course. Came close in my early twenties, right out of college, to getting married. But she didn’t like the chances I took on the rodeo circuit. I can’t blame her.” Tom’s blue eyes bored into Darcy’s. “Guess she just wasn’t the right one.”
Darcy’s breath caught. “I guess not.” As the silence between them stretched out, she tried hard to think what it was he’d been saying before she’d interrupted him. Then it came to her. “So, your solitary life has lost some of its attraction for you.”
“Yes. And it’s because of you that I know that.”
Darcy swallowed. “Me?”
“Yep. You’ve shown me there’s more.”
“I have? Define more.”
Tom pulled back and stared at her. “Yes, professor. But I didn’t realize this was going to be a test.”
Darcy slumped, even though the giddy feeling in her belly notched
upward. “I’m sorry. Go ahead.” Then she looked at her watch. “But you’d better hurry. Montana could wake up at any moment. Or Mother could walk through that door—”
“And bring the entire town, a brass band, and a circus with elephants in with her, right?”
“Right. All that, and a preacher.” She couldn’t believe she’d said it. But outwardly, she played it cool. Especially since she didn’t want a wedding. She’d already made her peace with living life on her own. When he didn’t say anything, Darcy blurted out, “All right. My turn.” She twisted her fingers together. “I know how you feel about Montana—”
“I love Montana enough to give her my name.” He was dead serious.
Darcy stilled. “I know. But, you see, you came along at a time in my life when I’d already decided that I’d go it alone.”
“I see. But for me, you came along at a time in my life when I’d decided I didn’t want to go it alone any longer.”
It sounded to Darcy that Tom was getting close to declaring himself. And that made her jumpy and edgy. Trying to lighten the moment, she said, “So what you’re saying is, you were looking for someone and there I was? Stranded on the side of the road and in labor?”
He smiled. “Yep. All my life, that’s exactly how I pictured it would happen.”
“I bet.” She got quiet as she digested everything he’d essentially confessed…that he cared, that he’d been looking, that it was her he’d been looking for. Wasn’t that what she was hearing? She thought so. So she decided to try again to make him understand where she was coming from. “I’m happy for you, Tom, that you’ve decided to find someone. I really am. But me? I’m not good with relationships. I fall for the wrong guys. I get hurt. I hurt them.”
“I don’t hurt easily. I went to college on a rodeo scholarship. Bull-riding.”
“Ouch. You are tough. But what I meant was—”
“That blackhearted son-of-a-gun who’s Montana’s biological father shook up your whole world and left you high and dry at a time in your life when you were at your most vulnerable. Now you’re thinking you’re better off alone. You’re a modern woman, and you don’t need all the heartache and the uncertainty that comes from a relationship with a man who’s most likely from some other planet, anyway.”
“Wow.” Darcy slumped against the sofa’s back. “You weren’t kidding. You do read Cosmo.”
“Told you. Winters are long up north. Come about mid-January, you find yourself reaching for anything to read.”
“I’m impressed.”
Tom quirked his head. “Is that so? Enough to say you care about me? Maybe enough to kiss me after you do?”
Darcy’s throat went dry. She swallowed. She licked her lips. She inhaled. She exhaled. She ran out of things to do. “But we did just kiss.”
“We did. At my instigation. And we’re still just talking in circles here. I need you to say outright that you care about me, Darcy. Because I’m not hearing anything yet from you to keep me here. If you can’t say it, for whatever reason, I’ll leave tomorrow.”
Darcy frowned. “Why is this all on me? What about you? I haven’t heard the first word from you about…caring.”
“Fair enough. I love you, Darcy. I want to make a life with you and Montana. Your turn.”
She stared at him. Her mind whirled. She’d been through too much, she was still off balance, they were going too fast. She’d declared her independence too publicly too many times lately to just back down now—especially since she’d only known this man one week. This man who fired her senses, a man she respected. But if she took the plunge this quickly—again—what did it say about her? She was tired of the old Darcy. She wanted to be more thoughtful, more mature. She wanted time. “I need time.”
“Either you know or you don’t. Either you feel it or you don’t.”
This was unfair. “I’ve only known you a week, Tom.”
“I’ve only known you a week, Darcy. Yet I know I love you.”
“Well, I’m not you.” Feeling trapped, Darcy began searching for excuses. “I have another person here to think of.”
“So do I. I have two. You and Montana.”
“No, get your own. Those are my two. Me and Montana.”
“Okay. But I still need you to give me something, Darcy. Anything to keep me here.”
Already in a state of elevated emotion, Darcy broke down. “I don’t respond well to ultimatums.”
Tom looked her in the eye. “You can’t say it, can you?”
Darcy’s chin came up. “I could. But I won’t. Not until I’m ready.”
Tom shifted his position on the sofa. “It sounds to me as if you’re getting up on a high horse, Darcy.”
“Oh, another warning? Right here in my own living room?”
“Your mother’s living room.”
That reminder didn’t sit well, either. “Why, thank you. I’d forgotten that. Yes, this is my mother’s house, isn’t it? And you are her invited guest, aren’t you? Point taken.” She stood up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe I hear my daughter crying.”
Tom stood up, too. “Darcy, please. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Darcy put a hand to her chest. “Upset? Me? I’m not upset. I just hear my daughter crying. Excuse me.” She turned away and stalked toward the bedroom.
From behind her Tom called, “Will you wait a minute, please? She’s not crying, Darcy. I don’t hear a thing.”
“Well, you will when I wake her up.” Darcy was even with the entryway.
Just then the front door burst open.
In blew Margie Alcott, a huge bundle of plastic-bagged disposable diapers dangling from her hand. “Guess what was on sale? I just came back to drop them off before I—What’s wrong, honey?”
“Nothing, Mother. But your plan didn’t work. We know the truth.”
“Well, where are you going?”
Over her shoulder, as she turned down the hallway, Darcy called out, “I’m not going anywhere. But Tom was just leaving.”
THAT EVENING, once Margie was inside with two of her friends fussing over Montana—and fussing at him for letting the situation between him and Darcy go sour—Tom got his nerve up enough to go look for Darcy. He found her outside in the swing. At the first sight of her, his knees weakened and his heart fluttered. She was so damned beautiful, sitting there and reading a magazine.
Cosmopolitan. Point taken.
Tom almost went back inside and said to hell with it. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. It was already too late for him. And she knew it because he’d said it. Well, he’d give it one more chance. And then, if she still didn’t care, he could leave knowing he’d tried everything. “Darcy?”
“What?” She didn’t look up from the glossy pages. Tom bit back a sudden grin. She wasn’t giving him an inch. No one had to tell him that Montana, in turn, with all this Alcott blood flowing through her veins, would be gorgeous and hell-on-wheels when she grew up. “I was wondering if you’d consent to take a ride with me.”
Darcy turned a page and folded the magazine back. “You can stop wondering. Because I won’t.”
Tom exhaled. “I’d be pleased if you would. There’s something I’d like to show you, something that’s real special to me.”
“Oh, really?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Well, I’ve already seen one. Dozens, in fact. And if you ask me, they all look alike.”
Tom squirmed uncomfortably. “What exactly are you talking about?”
Darcy finally looked up, crumpling her magazine and flopping it down on her lap. “Golf courses. Isn’t that where you wanted to take me?”
“Well, yes, it is. But how’d you know?”
“Good guess. What did you think I was talking about?”
“Same thing.” Relief coursed through Tom. “Golf courses.”
Darcy eyed him suspiciously. “I’ll bet.”
Tom was seized by a sudden desire to grab her up and swing her around, hugging and kissing her silly. But he w
isely didn’t give in to that impulse. For one thing, she was still pretty delicate following the birth of her daughter. And for another, he remained convinced she’d claw his eyes out if he so much as tried.
But still, he couldn’t get over the sight of her. Damn, she was pretty. She had on a white sundress and white sandals. Her long, dark hair shone like a halo around her face in the evening’s light behind her.
But more than her looks attracted him. He respected her, her intellect, her education, her making her own way, and most especially, her commitment to her daughter…in a day and age when a woman had other choices. Even her loving tolerance of her mother’s antics—not to mention the entire town’s, endeared her to him. He wondered if she knew just what a treasure she was. If she didn’t, maybe it was his job to tell her.
“You’re staring. Was there something else you wanted, Tom?”
A loaded question, if he’d ever heard one. And it came at a time when he was almost at the end of his rope. He was tired of being a gentleman, of suppressing his less than lofty thoughts of her. His urges just seemed sacrilegious, with her being such a new mother, but tell that to his itchy hands and body. He couldn’t resist allowing himself a suggestive grin…because there was something downright sexy about her, even with all this tension between them. Hell, he didn’t even think she was really all that mad. Nor did he think she wanted him to leave. She just wanted convincing. Even her mother said so—and so did Jeanette and Freda.
“I see that grin, cowboy. Don’t go there,” she warned.
“All right. But it’s not exactly a golf course yet. I want you to see the land.”
“I’m sure it’s nice. But I can’t leave for that long. I have to be here for Montana.”
“Your mama said you fed her just before you came out here. And right now, Montana Skye has three little grandmothers inside with her. She’ll be fine for a few hours.”
“Three? Who’s here?”
“Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Tomlinson came by.”
Drive-By Daddy & Calamity Jo Page 13
