"It's nothing"—he waved her away irritably, then running his gaze down her body said—"nothing that a kiss wouldn't help."
"Where does it hurt?"
He glanced at his lap. "I don't suppose you'd believe me if I told you—"
"It looked like your arm to me," she replied, trying to stifle her grin. Maybe it was simply the aftermath of a successful bust, but it seemed as though the Wes she knew and loved was back. Settling herself beside him on the bed, she reached for his arm, but with his good one he held her off. "Strained my shoulder is all."
Seeing no blood or obvious bruising, she said, "Then you should lie still and rest it."
"Maybe you could take my mind off the pain," he said, his good hand palming a nipple.
Warmth streaked through her at his touch. She'd begun to believe she'd never feel it again. But if she thought he was going to ignore her deception, she was wrong.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, even as his hand moved to the other breast.
"I didn't mean to deceive you. You woke up while I was reviving you … I did bring you back from the dead you know," she said indignantly, just so he'd know she wasn't planning on a big grovel-fest at his feet. "Then, when you woke again, you seemed to think I was your girlfriend. The Doc said I should let you go on believing it since it seemed to soothe you."
He snorted, changing his movements so he was plucking at her nipples as though they were ripe berries. "Nothing about you soothes me."
"Well, that was the doctor's advice. And then, when you … when we … I didn't know how to get out of it." He raised a brow and she shook her head. "No. I didn't want to. I…I…" He was doing that incredible twisting, pulling motion that sent sparks shooting straight to her core. "Oh, God. I liked it too much," she admitted.
She was squirming against the sheets, and he knew it. If he was planning to punish her for her deception he couldn't go about it any better. She was restless, burning, needy and all he'd do was toy with her breasts in that maddening fashion.
Enough already. She was only human. "I did what I did and I'm sorry if you didn't like it," she gasped, "but damn it I'm going to do it again." She flipped back the sheet to find him fully aroused and gorgeous.
She straddled him, already aching to have him inside her. She lowered herself slowly onto him, taking him so deep into her body that she purred, head thrown back. Perhaps she'd concealed too much before. Now it was time to rectify that by revealing everything. She rose slowly over him, stared deep into his eyes and took the biggest risk of her life. "I love you."
The words seemed to glavanize both of them; they bucked and rocked, drove and thrust until starbursts danced before her eyes. "I love you!" she shouted as she exploded.
* * *
When she awoke, with a sleepy, satisfied smile curving her lips, he was gone. In seconds she realized that not only was the bed empty but for her, but that his things were missing.
She dashed back to her own room and threw on jeans and a T-shirt, then ran downstairs, but the kitchen was as empty as the bed they'd shared last night. She tracked Gertie down out back where she was hanging washing on the line.
"Did you see Wes?"
"He left early. Said to tell you good-bye."
That was it? A second-hand good-bye?
If he'd wanted to punish her for pretending to a past they didn't share, he couldn't have struck truer. She'd bared her most intimate feelings, said the words she'd never said to another man, and he'd left her without so much as saying goodbye to her face.
* * *
As the blistering heat of summer faded to fall, the corn ripened and the pumpkins turned color. Gertie's chrysanthemums and dahlias burst into orange and purple and yellow bloom.
"What are you going to do now?" Gertie asked as they dug potatoes out of the garden. Without any will of its own, her gaze wandered to the spot where Wes had landed head first, changing her forever.
"I'm not going back to LA. I might look for work in a PR firm or an advertising agency." She didn't mention Chicago, but it was in the back of her mind to start her job search there. It was a good-sized city where there was lots of work and it was only a day's drive from Gertie. She knew from the newspaper reports of Harleyville's biggest-ever drug bust that Wes worked out of the Chicago office, where the trials had been held. Not that them being in the same city would matter. She hadn't seen or heard from him in a couple of months.
Her great-aunt was no fool, and her gaze shifted to where the beans had stood proud and bountiful before Wes head-planted into them. "I thought that man had ruined my whole crop of beans," she said with a sidelong glance at Nell, "but I propped them back up again, fussed with them a little and they came back better than ever."
Nell's smile quivered at the corners as she wrapped her arms around Gertie. "Sometimes it happens that way. He did the same thing to me."
"The beans are stuck here. You're not."
A laugh was surprised out of Nell. "Are you suggesting I go chasing after him?"
Gertie grunted as she attacked another potato hill with her shovel. "I'm saying if a man like Wes landed head first in my lap, I wouldn't hang around moping after he left."
"I was not…" Gertie's raised brows had her petering off. "Well, maybe a little." She shoved her own shovel into the rich dark earth as she voiced her greatest fear. "What if he doesn't want me?"
"Boy's been busy. You read in the paper like I did about the trials. They're all in jail now and this town can get back to normal. I'm thinking Wes won't be so busy now."
Nell sniffed. "Who's too busy to make a phone call? Or send a postcard?"
Gertie straightened, her lips already pursing ready to answer; then she cocked her head, looking so much like a robin listening for worms that Nell smiled fondly at her. It took her another minute to realize it wasn't worms Gertie was listening to, but the low, unmistakable roar of a motorcycle.
"Now that's a sound I haven't heard in a while." Gertie shot a sneaky glance at Nell. "Wonder what I did with that speed bump."
"Gertie, don't even think about it." The motorcycle came into view.
Her heart sank when she saw the helmet on the lone rider and noted there was no hair flapping out the back. Of course it wasn't Wes. Unable to watch, Nell turned away. "This bucket's full. I'll go get another."
Gertie grabbed her arm. "Not just yet. I think we have company."
Sure enough the rider slowed and pulled up in front of them. Even before he'd pulled the helmet off his head she recognized the lean planes and arrogant angles of his face. His hair was short but even short it had an unruly curl that she bet drove him crazy.
"Wes," she said, since it was the only thing she could think of.
"Hop on," he said, giving her a grin that spoke of wrinkled sheets and long nights making love under the stars.
She licked her suddenly dry lips. "Why?"
His grin ought to come with an age-restricted warning label. "You know why."
"'Bout time you showed up," Gertie said behind her. "Your intentions honorable?"
"Gertie!" Nell all but shouted, the blush already rising.
"I plan to marry her," he said over her head.
"Well, of all the high-handed… You might ask me!"
"Nell?" he said.
"Yes?" she replied with haughty dignity.
"Get on the back of the bike."
Her jaw dropped. "Gertie, can you believe—"
"You heard the man. Go on. Git."
She narrowed her eyes and stalked up to him. "Where are we going?"
He grabbed her and kissed her until stars danced before her eyes. Then he stared at her and she saw every one of her fantasies staring right back at her.
"Honey," he said, "I'm going to take you on the ride of your life."
* * * * *
BAD BOYS ON BOARD Page 24
