by Wendi Darlin
“I guess she needed something she couldn’t get from me.” He caressed her back. “But back then I thought everything was working fine right up until she left me for my best friend and business partner.”
Rebecca smiled inside. The woman must have been an idiot. Thank God for stupid people. “Did you ever cheat on her?”
“No. I thought I had everything I wanted.”
“I should thank her.”
“Why would you do that?” He smiled and twisted her hair in his hand.
“If she hadn’t screwed up I probably never would’ve tasted the best burger in Wyoming.”
He kissed the grease from her lips. “She didn’t screw up. I’ve heard they have a couple of kids now, and seem happy. And now that you’re here, I can see things worked out the way they were supposed to.”
“Everything always works out the way it’s supposed to,” Rebecca said. Her voice was barely a whisper. She met his mouth again. He responded with desire as deep as hers. His skin grew hot beneath her hands, his body firm against hers.
“You rock me.” He nuzzled her neck. “Everything about you. And that’s the truth.”
“You don’t know all of me yet. There are so many ways I can rock you.”
“I’m sure you can, and I plan on getting to know every single part of you.” His voice was low and suggestive, a tone that struck a chord deep inside her. A chord she wanted him to play again and again and again.
She eased closer. The paper sack crinkled as it crushed between them. She closed her hand around his wrist and brought his finger up to her neck.
“Like you could get to know me right here,” she said, “and then I could tell you how much I hate pistachio ice cream?”
He ran his finger down to her collarbone and then back up to where she had placed it. Goose bumps rose beneath his touch.
“Right here?”
“Uh huh,” she whispered, her body already trembling with anticipation. “That’s a very good place to start.”
He bent his head toward hers and tasted where his finger had been. She gasped as the heat of his tongue connected with her skin.
“I like knowing you there.” His voice was almost a growl.
“I’ve got a few other places you might like.” She ran her hands beneath his shirt, over the ridges of muscles that covered his ribs and onto his chest.
“You’ve got lots of places I like.” He lifted her hips and brought her onto his lap, then buried his head against her neck again. His breath was warm against her skin, his mouth stirring her up inside. She pressed her body against his, feeling how hard he was and hating the layers of clothes between them.
“Hey, get a room!”
Rebecca blew a frustrated breath through her nose and looked over her shoulder. The young man issuing the command held a long pole in one hand and a stack of plastic letters in the other. Grease from the kitchen clung to his hair and skin, and he didn’t look any too pleased to have them making out on his turf.
Gavin made a sound deep in his throat. “I guess we should be going.”
“Back to your place? So I can rock you?”
“I want you to see something first.”
“I want to see you naked.”
He brought her wrist to his lips. “This is important. More important to me than taking your clothes off right now.” He smiled. “So you know it ranks up there above oxygen.”
* * * *
“We’re here,” Gavin said. Rebecca could have sworn there was a note of hesitation in his voice and her nerves went on alert.
They were standing on mosaic floor tiles that flowed out to the cement sidewalk in front of the WapitiPalace, a well-preserved theatre and movie palace that according to the brass plate imbedded into the exterior building was built in 1926. Playbills for local performances and encore films lined the walls.
“You want to see a movie?” She screwed her face at him, hoping this was more than a stall tactic designed to keep from going back to the ranch. “I’m questioning your priorities in a very big way.”
“My priorities are in line.” He rapped his knuckles against the glass. “Although I have to admit I’m a little nervous.”
“It’s not even open,” she said, reading the hours posted on the box office window.
“I have connections.” He blew an unsteady breath and knocked again. His impatience was new.
“You really are nervous,” she said, “What’s—”
Before she could finish, a lock rattled on the other side of the door and a young man dressed in a black satin vest and crisp white shirt let them in. He flipped a row of lights behind a recessed panel in the wall, and the wide hall behind him came to life. Gargoyles peered over the concession area and well-worn tapestries hung on the Venetian plaster walls.
“Wow. This is impressive.” She looped her arm through his. “What are we going to see?”
“I promised I’d prove I wasn’t playing the game with you.” He pulled her in close and the muscle in his jaw jumped again. A feeling of unease tensed Rebecca’s shoulders. He was obviously not comfortable, that didn’t leave her much confidence she should feel any differently.
“You don’t have to prove anything to me.”
“This was meant to be for you,” he said. “But now I think it’s for both of us. So we know where we stand. Without doubt.”
Beyond the concession area a gracious double staircase wound its way to the second floor. The man who had unlocked the door took the stairs, but Gavin led Rebecca to a theatre on main floor. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, a Mighty Wurlitzer organ sat to one side of the stage and thick velvet curtains hung floor to ceiling.
They took cushioned seats in the center of the auditorium about six rows from the stage. The house lights and chandeliers dimmed, and the ceiling came to life with drifting clouds and twinkling stars. Above the mezzanine, a light flashed in the window of the projection room. Gavin reached for her hand, his thumb traced erratic circles into her skin.
“I need you to trust me,” he said. The way his eyes pleaded, tensed her stomach into a tight knot. “I’m not doing this to upset you. Promise me you’ll believe that.”
A rectangle of light and jumping black squiggles hit the screen at the back of the stage. The lead images panned a broad Charleston street lined with blossoming trees and cut to the façade of an ornate church. Rebecca’s breath stuck in her throat and before the opening credits began to roll, she dropped Gavin’s hand and gripped the padded arms of her chair. Her fingernails sank into the broad chenille weave and a tear slipped from the corner of her eye.
“How did you do this?” she asked without turning from the screen.
“Garrett’s on the theatre board and his boyfriend, John, is an executive with The Hearst Corporation that owns half the Lifetime Network.” He placed his hand over her arm. “Are you okay?”
Rebecca didn’t answer, but caught her breath as the camera focused on people inside the church. Todd was unbelievably handsome in his black tuxedo, shaking hands with his groomsmen and hugging his mother. She smiled and choked back a laugh as he hammed it up for the camera responding to the interviewer’s joke about cold feet by lifting his pants leg to reveal a double layer of socks.
The edit jumped to her father lowering her veil before leading her to the petal-strewn aisle. At the front of the church Todd waited for her. His jacket lay across his broad shoulders and draped down to his hips, tailored to fit him to a tee. As the music flooded from the speakers in the auditorium, the camera lingered on his face, capturing the tears that shimmered in his eyes and the moment his chest heaved and his jaw fell slack.
Rebecca swallowed hard. He had loved her so much. She had never seen a man so unbridled in the expression of his love before, and as she had placed one foot in front of the other, she had known beyond doubt she was the luckiest woman in the world. She never imagined she would have to let him go without having a chance to say goodbye.
She gripped the arms of her cha
ir harder, and her chest trembled with the sadness that sat deep in her soul. Gavin’s hand covered hers, but she couldn’t look away from the film.
The camera angle changed and she stood facing Todd. She read his lips as he whispered to her the same thing he said every time they made love. “Promise me you’ll never change.” Her heart clenched so tight she thought it would stop beating forever when she saw herself mouth back. “Not ever.”
She had changed. She had changed what he loved most about her. Her passionate abandon. Her ability to let her heart soar and trust it would never come crashing down. She had lied. To Todd.
The minister held his Bible in front of them and led them through their vows. She watched herself promise her love, the words echoing in her ears. “I, Rebecca, take you, Todd, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, until death do us part.”
She covered her face and wept into her hands. The vows were complete. She had fulfilled them. They both had, but the marriage bond was broken by that last little clause. Until death do us part. And the private vow she had made to him was broken along with her heart the day he died.
Gavin raised the armrest between them and took her in his arms. Her body stiffened. Todd was larger than life in front of her, sealing their commitment with a kiss, but Gavin’s voice was in her ear whispering words of comfort. Telling her she would be okay. He would make sure of it. He would never let her hurt again. She crumbled, falling into the man who was holding her, the only one who wasn’t a fantasy anymore.
He held her until the tears subsided and her lungs could fill without stuttering.
“Why did you do this?” she asked when she was strong enough to look him in the eye.
“Love does have a contract,” he said evenly, cautiously, “and you already know it costs a lot more than we charge at the ranch.” He handed her a slip of paper folded in half.
She unfolded the paper in her hand. The business’s name and address were in the upper left corner of the check, Garrett’s signature was at the bottom, and the tender amount was exactly what she had paid to spend the week at Fantasy Ranch.
“I should have given it to you days ago, probably the second I met you,” he said. “You’re not a guest anymore. You never really were. I want you in my room, in my house, in every way that matters for as long as you want to stay.” His fingers trembled against her cheeks. “Please tell me you want that, too.”
She held her breath at what his words could mean. She couldn’t afford to read more into them than he had meant to put there. “You could’ve kept taking me to bed without going to all this trouble,” she said. The screen went dark and the light from the projection room disappeared.
The man who had let them in called down from the balcony, “Gavin, you gonna lock up?”
“Yeah. We’ll go out the back,” Gavin answered him. “Thanks again.”
The man disappeared into a wing and then his footsteps carried down the marble stairs.
“I definitely want to keep taking you to bed.” Gavin smiled. “But I want you to be there for the same reason I am.”
“And what would that be?”
“Because there’s nothing I need to do more than make love to you. I thought I’d never take this chance again, but you’re every part of me that was missing. I need you in my life.”
Her heart curled around what those words meant. A tear slipped from her eye and rolled down her cheek. He kissed it, taking it from her. She tasted the salt on his tongue until the tear dissolved between them and all that was left was the rawness of her need for him. Her heart drummed in her chest to an ancient rhythm, the dance of life, of love, and the promise of tomorrow.
“Let’s go take care of those needs we have,” she said.
“There’s nobody here but us. Unless you count Maynard. The ghost.”
“There’s a ghost?”
“Uh huh. He might want to watch. He’s a horny old devil. Been known to blow skirts up. Touches women in all sorts of places that send chills up their spines.”
“You sure you’re not a ghost?”
“I want you,” he said, slipping his hand beneath the hem of her shirt and planting kisses down her neck. “Over and over. Here. Now. Everywhere. All the time.”
“And you plan on doing this for longer than a week?”
“I don’t ever want to stop.” He unbuttoned her shorts and slid the zipper down.
“I can’t help but feel...” She caught her breath as his fingers found the silk of her panties. “…a little robbed.”
“What am I robbing you of, except maybe your movie palace virginity?”
She could feel his smile against her neck as the clouds floated overhead and the stars twinkled.
“I won’t ever get to have sex for the hell of it.” Her smile was rooted in the center of her soul.
“I’ll try to make sure you don’t miss it.”
Chapter 10
“You’re undercover?” Clayton placed his napkin next to his plate and sat back in his chair. Early afternoon light poured in through the picture window next to the small dining table in the Honey cabin.
Marge pushed her food around with her fork. She had managed a few bites, but her stomach wasn’t up for much more. Her head felt like someone was using it as a trampoline and even her bunions were throbbing.
“Please don’t tell anyone.” Her eyes were too raw to cry, and her swollen throat forced a rasp into her voice. “I just don’t want you to get caught in the middle of this. You haven’t done anything to deserve it.”
“No one else has either. Your nephew can’t arrest anyone here.”
She shook her head and wiped her nose on her napkin. “I told him I saw Gavin leaving Rebecca’s room in his underwear.” She focused on the mountain of potatoes in front of her. “He’ll use my statement to get a warrant for the cameras.”
“And then we’ll all be cleared anyway.” Clayton leaned forward on his elbows. “I told you, the cowboys don’t have sex with the guests. None of them.”
She lifted her eyes to his. “Not even the young pretty ones?”
“None of them,” he repeated. He came around the table and walked her over to the mirror above the vanity. Standing behind her, he tucked her hair behind her ears and ran his fingers through the loose tangles at the back of her head. “Look in that mirror. Look past the hangover.” He laughed gently. “And the snotty nose.”
She smiled in spite of herself.
“Look at that beautiful woman. Men could drown in those eyes.” He traced the hollow of her face with his fingers. “My grandmother would have called yours a Queen’s complexion. Cream and roses. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen yourself this way.”
She lowered her eyes to the countertop. He was filling her full of compliments a handsome young man would never mean. He tilted her chin up again and stared at her through the mirror.
“You are an incredibly attractive woman, Marge. And Old, Fat and Harry needs a good swift kick in the knee if he’s never let you believe that.” Clayton leaned closer. With his mouth close to her ear he whispered, “You deserve better than a married man who doesn’t know how much you’re worth. And that’s not a secret.”
He squeezed her shoulders and stepped away. “Now, beautiful Miss Marge, how are we going to spend your last day on the ranch?”
Without pretense or forethought, the tingle started at the base of her spine and traveled higher, gaining momentum, puffing her lungs with courage, and pouring out of her lips in a rush. “I want to ride a horse.”
He looked at her for a long minute. “Is this a new you, I’m sensing?”
“I don’t like the old me.”
“Let’s go, then!”
“Wait. Maybe I should tell Gavin what I did.”
Clayton brought the backs of her fingers to his lips. “You focus on leaving old Marge in the dust, and don’t worry about Gavin. I told you, he’s a smart man. He can take of himself and the ranch.”
*
* * *
The late afternoon light filled Gavin’s bedroom. There was no darkness to hide in, nothing to mask the fear, or any lingering doubt. Not that there was any doubt in Rebecca’s mind. He lifted her shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor. The ride from the theatre was no more than half an hour, but already she wanted him again so badly she could barely pull air into her lungs.
“I’ve never craved a woman like this before,” he said, reaching behind her back to release her bra. “Not this bad.” His voice vibrated between them as he slid the straps from her shoulders and lowered his mouth to hers. She melted into him, already so familiar with his taste, his scent, and the heat that flowed through him, that the essence of him filled her as naturally as the blood that pumped through her veins. His thumbs traveled the vertical line that divided her abdomen, his hands covered her ribs, pushed her shorts below her hips, down her thighs. He undressed her as if he was unwrapping a package, unhurried at first then driven with anticipation.
She pushed his shirt up over his chest. He helped her pull it off. “If you turn this place into a nudist resort,” she whispered as she reached for the button on his shorts, “we could just run around naked.” The zipper jammed and she tugged at it.
“You’re brilliant.” His hands dipped into the curve of her waist and he lowered his lips to her neck. “We’ll convert this room first. No clothes allowed, and I’m not letting you out of here.”
Her hands fumbled on the front of his shorts, her muscle control hindered by his tongue.
“Rip it,” he said.
Fueled by the need that rode his words, she jerked the stubborn zipper, with enough force to unhinge it. She had him undressed in seconds and stepped closer to press her body to his. Her mind spun, overloaded with the sensations shooting through her, the increasing pressure of his hands, the heat flaring between them. She raised her fingers to his neck, the tendons defined and tense beneath her touch. “There’s not a single part of you that doesn’t turn me on,” she said. Her voice was weak, he made her that way, but that no longer frightened her.
