Smiling faintly, he picked up the dishes and carried them over to the double sink. “I love my mother very much. But I’d never let her tell me what I need to do with my life. Or not to do. The way I see it, once a kid grows up, he needs to make his own mistakes.”
She let out a good-natured groan as she joined him at the sink. “I’ve made my share of those, and Mom doesn’t let me forget them, either. And since she works in such a public job, she’s always trying to get me to go on dates with some of the regular guys who come into the restaurant.”
Leaning a hip against the cabinet counter, he leveled an amused look at her. “So it’s not just Lilly who’s trying to set you up with dates.”
Groaning again, she shook her head. “My mother is the worst. But I guess you can see what I think about her choice of men. I’ve been divorced for nearly eleven years. And I’m pretty sure that isn’t going to change.”
“Hmm. Why are you certain you’ll remain single? You’re young and attractive. I’m sure you’ve had plenty of offers.”
Offers, yes. But not the matrimonial kind, Marcella thought ruefully. “I’m trying to forget the kind of offers I’ve had since I divorced Gordon,” she said, injecting as much humor as she could into her voice. “Most of them were fairly short-term. Like one or two nights.”
A stretch of awkward silence passed until he finally said, “That’s hard to believe.”
“Not really.” She carried the leftover salad to the cabinet and dumped the greens into a plastic storage bag. “Taking on two children is a huge responsibility. Emotionally and financially. I understand that. So I’m really not expecting to find a man who’d want all three of us.”
“Well, I can see where you have to put your boys first. That’s the way it should be.”
She looked at him and smiled while hoping he couldn’t see the lonely sadness in her heart. When she and Gordon had first gotten married, they’d both been very young and impetuous, but she’d loved him. He’d been a happy, fun-loving guy. Until the responsibilities of growing up and being a husband and father had hit him. Then it had quickly become obvious to Marcella that he hadn’t been geared for either task. In the end, divorcing Gordon had been the right thing to do for both of them.
After her broken marriage, she’d vowed she would never get herself emotionally tangled up with another man unless she was very, very sure she could trust her heart to him. Now, after all these years, she’d practically given up on finding that special man.
Clearing her throat, she said, “Let’s dish up some of the ice cream you brought and we’ll take it to the living room. I’m sure Harry and Peter are more than ready for dessert. The boys have a DVD they want you to see. Some sort of old Western.”
“Sounds good, but what about cleaning the kitchen?”
She smiled at him. “We’re going to put that task on hold.”
* * *
Much later, after the ice cream had been eaten and the cowboy movie watched, Marcella announced it was time for the boys to brush their teeth and go to bed.
“Aw, Mom, it’s not late,” Harry argued.
Peter backed up his brother. “We don’t want to go to bed while Denver is here.”
“I’m sorry, guys,” she told them. “Tomorrow is a school day. So hop to it.”
The two brothers had been lying on a braided rug in front of the television, but their mother’s firm order had them both climbing to their feet.
“Can Denver come see our room?” Harry asked. “I want him to see my posters.”
Peter added, “Yeah, and I want him to see the picture I drew.”
Marcella tossed a questioning glance at Denver. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all.”
“Okay,” she told the youngsters. “Go get ready for bed and I’ll bring him to your room.”
Seemingly satisfied with their mother’s promise, Peter and Harry scurried out of the room. Marcella rose from where she’d been sitting on the couch and began to gather up the empty ice cream bowls.
“I’ll carry these to the kitchen and be right back,” she told him.
After she’d left the room, Denver looked around him and wondered what he was really doing in this house with this little family. He wasn’t looking for marriage. He didn’t want a wife or kids. And that was what Marcella was all about. To expect her to want anything less from a relationship would be insulting.
Before he said goodbye tonight, he had to make it clear that they wouldn’t be seeing each other again. Unless it was just a friendly encounter on the ranch.
He was wondering how he could go about telling her without seeming like a jerk when she suddenly reappeared. The smile on her face made him want to groan with misgivings. How could he think about not seeing her lovely face again? Not seeing the warmth of that smile and feeling it radiating to the very depths of him?
“Come on and follow me,” she said. “I’m sure the boys have given their teeth about thirty seconds of brushing and jerked on their pajamas.”
Rising from the chair, he trailed her out of the living room and down a short hallway to a door on the right. After rapping lightly on the facing, she opened it and gestured for Denver to precede her into the children’s room.
Dressed in matching blue pajamas, Peter and Harry practically leaped at him, each boy grabbing Denver by the hand and tugging him deeper into the square space.
“Well, this is really nice,” he said as he glanced around the room furnished with twin beds and a large chest of drawers. “I didn’t have a brother to share a room with, so I had to stay all by myself. You guys are lucky.”
“We like it together,” Harry said. “I was really happy when Mom got me a brother.”
“And I was happy she got me one, too,” Peter added with a toothy grin.
Harry pointed to the bed next to the inner wall. Both beds were covered with dark brown comforters. At the foot of each one was a pile of dirty clothes and athletic shoes.
“This is where Peter sleeps. And I sleep in this bed by the window. Unless we have a lightning storm, and then I get in the bed with Peter.”
That admission brought a giggle from both boys.
“Yeah, we don’t like lightning,” Peter informed him. “Neither do Gus and Mabel. They hide under the bed.”
The walls were covered with colorful posters and school paraphernalia, while built-in shelves held books and toys and sports items. It was a typical boy’s room, and seeing it hit Denver in a spot he’d thought was long dead.
“Sorry it smells like a locker room in here,” Marcella told him.
Denver chuckled. “We guys aren’t supposed to smell like flowers.”
“That’s right, Mom,” Harry agreed. “We’re supposed to stink a little.”
Hiding a smile, Denver turned his attention to the posters on the wall. Most of them were scenes from popular children’s movies, and some were images of major league baseball stars.
Harry tugged him across the room to where more pictures were pinned to a closet door. “Look at this one, Denver. Peter drew this. He says it’s you. I told him you probably didn’t have a dog, but he drew one on there anyway.”
Amazed, Denver took a closer look at the pencil drawing. It was an incredibly lifelike image of a man on a horse riding through the desert. A dog with long hair and a bushy tail was trailing the horse’s heels. This was how Peter pictured him, Denver thought. And the little boy had cared enough to put the image on paper. He didn’t know what to think.
His throat tight, he said, “Oh my, Peter. You’re a regular little artist! This is awesome.”
“That’s what I told him, too,” Harry said as proudly as if he’d done the drawing himself.
Peter reached up and unpinned the piece of heavyweight paper from the door. “Here,” he said to Denver, “you can
have it if you want it.”
Denver accepted the drawing and tried to ignore the swell of emotions in his chest, but the feeling was like nothing he’d ever experienced before and he was forced to swallow several times before he managed to speak.
“Thank you, Peter. I’m going to be sure to frame it.”
Behind him, he felt Marcella moving into the room. “Okay, guys, it’s getting late. Hop into bed and say good-night to Denver.”
Not wanting to push their luck, Peter and Harry jumped into their respective beds, and after settling their heads on the pillow, they gave Denver a pair of gamin-like grins.
“Good night, Denver. Come see us again real soon. Will ya?” Harry asked.
“Yeah, will ya?” Peter added.
What are you going to do now, Denver? Tell these boys you don’t want to get involved with them or their mother? If you tell them that, you’d be more than a liar. You’d be a coward along with it.
Forcing a smile on his face, he said, “I’ll try my best to see you soon.”
Marcella moved past him, and after pressing a kiss on each boy’s forehead, she turned off the lamp on the nightstand.
Denver told them good-night, then followed Marcella back out to the living room.
When she sank onto one end of the couch, he said, “I guess I should be going. You probably have a long day ahead of you tomorrow, too.”
She patted the cushion next to her. “Don’t worry about my schedule. Please stay a few more minutes. We really haven’t gotten to talk much with the boys monopolizing your attention.”
Sitting alone with Marcella in a quiet room was not exactly the best way to protect himself against her charms. But he couldn’t resist.
He eased down on the cushion next to her. “All right, if you’re sure I’m not overstaying my welcome.”
Drawing her legs up beneath her, she squared around slightly so that she was facing him. “Of course not. Besides, I needed this time alone with you to apologize.”
Denver allowed his gaze to travel over her heart-shaped face with its upturned nose and clear blue eyes. Her creamy skin was spattered with pale freckles, and her lips were plush and velvety. Just thinking about the way they had tasted was enough to make his gut clench with desire.
“I can’t imagine why,” he said, his thoughts turning his voice husky.
“You asked me to go on a date and I put you through this. I shouldn’t have done this to you. It wasn’t right or fair.”
He shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
“This wasn’t just an evening with me. It was an evening with me and my family. I wouldn’t blame you if you never spoke to me again.”
“Do you hear me complaining?”
Her gaze dropped sheepishly to her lap. “No. You’re too nice for that.”
“Nice,” he repeated the word gruffly. “You can’t imagine the things I’ve been thinking for the past two hours. Most of them aren’t...nice.”
Her lips parted and Denver’s gaze froze on the plump curve of her lower lip and the edge of white teeth.
“No doubt. You’ve probably been thinking you’d like to choke me for putting you through this.”
“Not choke you, Marcella. I want to kiss you. Like this.”
He didn’t give her time to leap off the couch or evade his arms as they curled around her shoulders. Instead, he drew her close and covered her lips with his.
Chapter Six
Denver’s plan had been to make the kiss a short exploration. He’d never intended for it to get out of control. But the moment their lips made contact, something exploded and desire took control. Before he realized what he was doing, his hands were at the back of her head, his fingers meshing into her silky hair. His tongue was thrusting between her teeth, daring hers to join his in an erotic dance.
While their mouths fused tighter and tighter, her arms slipped around his neck and the front of her body pressed against his. She felt like a warm, beautiful dream. One that he never wanted to let go.
The kiss went on and on, robbing his breath and drugging his senses. This was what his life was missing. This hot, sweet connection was the craving that gnawed at him on a nightly basis, and he didn’t want to lose it. He wanted it to go on and on.
Somewhere in the midst of his thoughts, he heard her groan, and then the two of them were falling sideways in a tangled embrace. But before Denver could shift them to a more comfortable position, she was pushing her palms against his chest in a clear plea for him to give her space.
Reluctantly, he eased his lips away from hers and she instantly scrambled to a sitting position. As he watched her wipe the tangled hair from her face, hot desire simmered in his loins. Yet at the same time he felt a great need to protect her feelings.
“I’m sorry, Marcella. I didn’t mean for that to happen. I mean, I did want the kiss to happen. But I wasn’t planning for it to get—”
When his words awkwardly trailed away, she finished the sentence for him.
“So heated?”
Nodding ruefully, he blew out a heavy breath. “Now you’re probably thinking I’m just a guy after sex.”
She slanted him a droll look. “Hmm, well, now you’re probably thinking I’m a sex-starved divorcée out to grab what excitement I can.”
Shaking his head, he tried to keep a grin off his face, but it came anyway. “Never would I think something like that.”
Through lowered lashes, she studied him closely. “And I don’t believe you’d spend two hours with a pair of kids just to get a hot kiss from their mother.”
His expression sobered. “I wouldn’t say that. The kiss was worth every minute.”
A nervous little laugh escaped her before she rose from the couch and walked over to where the remote for the television was resting on an end table. After she switched off the power, she returned to the couch to stand in front of him.
“I can’t play coy, Denver. That’s just not me. So I’ll just come out and admit that I’m very attracted to you. I have been from the very first evening we met. I don’t know what that means—for either of us. But I had to be open with you. So if you’re wanting to run for the door right now, go ahead. I’ll understand.”
Caught off guard by her admission, he pushed himself up from the couch and reached for her hand. When her fingers willingly closed around his, he felt a fateful sort of acceptance wash through him.
“Since you’re being honest, I’ll admit that asking you for a date had very little to do with Rafe and Lilly. I wanted to spend this time with you. But I—”
“You planned on it being just this once.”
As his gaze sheepishly roamed her face, he realized he was dealing with a woman unlike any he’d met before. She seemed to be reading his thoughts as though she could see right through his head. The idea left him feeling extremely exposed and vulnerable. Could she also see how fast his heart was racing? How much he wanted to pull her back into his arms?
“Well, maybe. I’m not a dating type of guy. And I don’t want a serious relationship. But I thought one date wouldn’t hurt anything—or maybe two. Now I see my thinking wasn’t fair to you.” Her brows arched in question, prompting him to go on. “What I’m trying to say is you deserve someone better than me.”
“Yes, I do,” she agreed, her voice edged with a mix of disappointment and determination. “So do my children.”
He blew out another long breath and forced himself to drop his hold on her hands. Losing physical contact with her affected him in a way that didn’t make sense. He hardly knew this woman. He didn’t need to be that connected to her. Yet touching her made him feel alive and whole. Two things he hadn’t really felt since Christa died.
“I agree. So I guess we should probably say good-night and goodbye.”
Her
nostrils flared, and then her gaze flickered away from his to settle on some shadowy spot across the room. “Is that what you want to do?”
Her voice was strained, as though there was an emotional cost to ask the question. Denver wanted to kick himself. He should’ve never touched or kissed her. After telling Harry and Peter good-night, he should’ve thanked her for the great dinner and then made a beeline back to the Silver Horn—where he belonged. Instead, he’d acted on his urges and now everything was changed.
“Not exactly. I’m just trying to do the right thing. For you and the boys.”
Turning away from him, she walked over to where Mabel and Gus were still curled together in their basket.
“The boys like you. A lot. I could say that if you’re trying to do the right thing, then you might think about coming around to see them once in a while. But that would be emotional blackmail and I don’t want your company that way.”
She turned around and gave him a fatalistic smile. “Sometimes being attracted to each other just isn’t enough.”
Something was suddenly pushing against his back, forcing his legs to carry him across the room to her.
“Common sense tells me to tell you goodbye and walk out the door. But that’s not what your kiss told me. I think we’d both be fools to ignore what this chemistry between us really means.”
Rolling her eyes, she let out a helpless groan. “It means you’re a man and I’m a woman. It’s that simple.”
He frowned. “Really? Well, I don’t go around wanting to kiss just any woman the way I just kissed you. Do you want to kiss just any man the way you kissed me?”
The corners of her lips turned downward. “That’s not a fair question. Besides, why are you making this argument? You don’t want to start up any sort of relationship with me.”
“I didn’t think I wanted to,” he admitted as he rested his hands on her shoulders. “Until a few minutes ago and I was faced with the reality of never seeing you and the boys again.”
She sighed. “So what if we do continue to see each other? Where could that possibly lead us? We’d only end up hurting each other. And I’d hate that.”
The Cowboy's Christmas Lullaby Page 7
