“Yeah!” Bobbing his head enthusiastically, Scott seemed unable to believe he stood so near to achieving his dream. Obviously, Scott would have agreed to anything to get a dog, including shaving his head and dying himself blue.
Duster glanced at Diane, looking for agreement.
She shrugged. “I’m okay with it if you are.”
“Okay, then. We’ll finish—”
Scott bolted from the table screaming with exuberance.
“You’ve made him very happy,” Diane said.
“Obviously.” Watching Scott jump around in his pj’s, Duster had to bite his lips not to laugh. “Scott? Come finish eating first.”
Wolfing down his food, Scott managed to clean his plate in less than sixty seconds. “May I be excused?” Spraying flecks of his food to the table, he wiped his mouth on the back of his arm. He realized his mistake, so he smeared his napkin across his face.
Duster barely had to tell Scott to go brush his teeth and get dressed before he took off at a dead run to his bedroom.
“With that attitude, we should spring a plate of broccoli on him,” Diane said.
“He’d eat it in about ten seconds flat.”
“I don’t think he understands that we’re just going to look.” Diane finished her meal at a more sedate pace. “That the puppies are too young to come home today.”
“Why don’t you tell him that part?” Duster asked hopefully.
“Don’t flash those lonesome puppy eyes of yours at me.” Diane shook her fork at him. “You only want me to tell him so I can look like the bad guy. Nope. I’m gladly dumping this whole affair in your lap.”
“Spoilsport.”
Diane nodded. “I’m also going to fix my hair.”
“It looks fine.” Strands of golden copper tumbled around her face.
“Rather bohemian. I’d like to tame it a bit.”
“Why?”
She glanced away.
“Diane.”
Meeting his gaze, she said, “I want to make a good impression on your friends.”
“With that dress? Every man on-planet will be drooling all over you.” She wore a diaphanous gown of various shades and hues of green. Pointed edges made a complicated network of layers around her body.
“Is this too revealing?” Diane turned so he could see her from every angle. The gown covered her from neck to toes and all the way down her arms.
“Not in the least. That’s kinda what makes it so sexy. Not having a clear impression of what’s under all those fluffy layers of—what is that stuff?” The fabric moved like a teasing wind that seemed to be constantly toying with the idea of revealing her body but never really did. It was far more sexy than anything form fitting would ever be.
“Byzantine silk taffeta.”
“They’ll be so disappointed.”
“By?”
“The fact you’re already taken.”
“Now who’s acting a bit jealous?”
“Got news for you, my gorgeous wife, I’m not acting. Other men can look and drool all they want. Touching—that’s a whole new ball game.”
“With you looming at my side, dressed as you are in all your gear, I doubt one would dare.”
“My ring on your finger would stop most cold.”
“How would anyone know?”
“Given that two of the biggest gossip mongers—Daniels and Richards—know the gist of the story, which they promptly told to everyone else within earshot within hours of leaving base, I imagine a good chunk of the planet knows you’re here and you’re mine.”
Frowning, Diane looked away from the table to the garden. “Yours?”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not going to treat you like a possession. I just meant that you’ve chosen to be with me as my wife. And you’re potentially carrying my child.”
“We haven’t even—”
“I know that, and you know that, but they don’t. By the way those two enjoy spicing up tales, I’m sure they told everyone they caught us in flagrante delicto.”
“French?”
“Latin. Michael has a thing for it. Colloquially, it’s a euphemism for being caught in the act of sexual intercourse.”
Nodding, Diane didn’t look at him, and he wondered what he’d said that she took so badly.
“Diane? Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“What if, for some reason, I fail you?”
“Fail me how?” A million suspicious ran in his mind.
“What if I never have another child?”
“You mean you want to continue on with this chaste act we’ve got going at the moment?” Good Lord, he hoped not, since he’d barely been able to maintain the ragged edges of his self-control in the shower.
“God, no. But, sometimes, things happen, or rather they don’t, and what if I can’t for some reason?”
“It won’t be from lack of trying on my part.” He was trying to make her laugh, but what he said only deepened her frown. Between her tawny eyes, a line appeared.
“Not from lack of trying, but what if I just don’t? Will you, would you, well—”
“Find myself another woman? Is that what you’re asking me?”
“I guess.”
“Are you nuts? We already have one. If you have two more or twenty more, I’ll be—”
“Twenty? What am I? A dog giving birth to a litter of kids? How could I possibly have twenty children?” Eyes wide, glittering with anger, Diane leaned across the table.
“Why are you so touchy? It was a figure of speech. One or a hundred. I’m trying to tell you I don’t care how many.” It struck him suddenly. “Are you, in a rather roundabout way, trying to tell me you don’t want any more children?”
Just the thought of her not wanting more children clearly upset Duster, so she attempted to soften the blow. “I’m not saying that at all. But you want more children so desperately that I’m a bit afraid of not being able to live up to what you obviously want from me.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.” Duster held his hands open, palms up to the now brightening blue sky. “Let me make this as clear as I can. I love kids. I am thrilled to my toes to have Scott. I’ll be just as thrilled with more. If for some reason, we can’t have any more, then we’ll deal with that and find a way to have more some other way. Call me blunt, but why is it you keep throwing all these hypothetical questions at me? If we have more kids, we do. If we don’t have more kids, we’ll find out why and fix it. Why worry about something that isn’t an issue?”
“I’m just afraid, I guess. Of failing and of succeeding.” The night she’d brought Scott into the world flashed through her mind. She loved her son dearly, but that night was terrifying. Finally, she found the courage to meet his eyes. “Scott was a very difficult birth.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Compassion filled his eyes. “Tell me.”
“Aren’t you done yet? I want to go see the puppies.” Scott had dressed himself in a study pair of brown trousers, a muddy-colored brown shirt and a pair of lace-up shoes—his after-school clothes. Presenting his hands to Diane, he said, “I even washed my hands.”
“Did you brush your teeth?” Diane asked.
“Yep.” Scott shot her a painfully wide smile that showed almost every tooth in his mouth. “See?” It came out shee like a gangster from an ancient bad cinema.
“Excellent.” She reached to ruffle his hair, and he ducked.
Shooting a quick glance to his father, he hissed low, “Mom. You said you wouldn’t do that no more.”
“Anymore. And you’re right. I apologize.” Standing, Diane cast a quick glance at Duster. “I’m going to fix my hair and I’ll be ready to go.”
“Perfect.” But the look on his face made it clear their discussion about more children was far from over. “That gives Scott and me enough time to clean up and do the dishes.”
“Aw, man! That’ll take forever!” Dejected, Scott kicked the stone patio.
“Faster we get starte
d, faster we finish.” Duster stacked dishes and took them inside.
Scott piled up a stack he would no doubt drop.
“Not so fast, sport. How about you take this pile?” Pointing to a more manageable stack, Duster supervised as Scott scooped them up, then hurried them into the kitchen. Grinning, Duster said over his shoulder, “Go fix your stunning hair, my beautiful wife. And I promise, we’ll talk later.”
Over the years, plenty of men had cast attention her way. They offered compliments designed to inveigle her, and Diane had brushed them aside like pesky lint. Only one man could say such things to her where she not only believed he genuinely felt that way, but made her feel it as well. When Duster was looking at her, she felt stunning, beautiful and special. That was why her fear in the face of his genuine longing seemed almost childish. It wouldn’t be the same this time. She wouldn’t be alone. Duster would be there every step of the way. Yet she was still afraid. More children was so important to Duster that if she didn’t give them to him, he might reject her.
Leaving them behind, she made her way to her bathroom and pulled her hair back into a high bun on the back of her head with her hair poofed up around it. Tiny tendrils, artfully pulled, looked as if they had escaped to dangle fetchingly around her face. Diane knew the style made her look dignified and reserved, especially when she arched her brow, but it also made her sexy in a young-ingénue kind of way.
Swiping a bit of light brown mascara to her upper lashes, she went without anything more but a dab of vanilla-musk between her breasts and a brush of gloss across her lips.
“Damn it.”
Diane brushed her teeth, flossed, gargled and did everything short of sanitizing her mouth. Thinking of the kiss she’d already shared with Duster, morning breath and all, she laughed.
Catching her own reflection in the mirror, she cast herself a queenly look. “I’m off to seduce my own husband, apparently.”
She tarted herself up in the bathroom for none other than Duster. Yes, she would be meeting many of his friends and coworkers today—anticipatory anxiety rumbled down her spine—but more than that, she wanted to look nice for him.
Catching her reflection again, Diane turned to the side, remembering how she’d swelled with Scott. She’d carried low, but once she started to really show, she took an extended vacation from the network. For the last month of her pregnancy, she’d swaggered like a drunken gunslinger. If she sat, she couldn’t get back up without assistance. Since there hadn’t been anyone home to help her, she’d learned to roll to her side, kneel on the floor, then pull herself up. By the time Scott came, Diane had arms of durosteel. Again, she knew it would be different this time because Duster would be there with her, but that fear of the pain would not abate.
“Why worry about rhetorical questions?”
Pressing her hand to her lower belly, Diane thought back to Michael leaning over her, sniffing her, judging her and telling her she’d betray Duster again. If she didn’t give him another child, would Michael see that as a betrayal? Would Duster? He had said they would find a way to have more children, and she was thinking he meant adoption, but would that really satisfy him?
Duster loved children. He’d built his entire world around them, and not just his own children but other people’s kids as well. And Duster held himself back for the promise of mating with her again. Right before the clueless ship of traders had forced their way aboard the Den of Iniquity, Duster had reached for his fly to yank it down. In his hurry, he’d bumped his knuckles against her deliciously sensitive clit. Diane had lowered her hands to help him push his trousers aside. In the heat of that moment, she’d not thought about consequences, and neither had he.
They had later, but not that first time. If not for being interrupted, her hesitation now would be a moot point. Last night as they lay together so exhausted, Diane felt Duster thick and hard, throbbing against her buttock. She’d wanted him so badly she’d woken up repeatedly. Seven years seemed long enough to worry, wondering and waiting for him. Dreaming of him. Lusting after him and crying over him. Seeing him in almost everything Scott did.
“How could I ever let fear hold me back from giving him everything he deserves?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
While doing the dishes with Scott, Duster called over on his wrist com to ask Steve Richards about stopping by and seeing the puppies.
“Come on over anytime. I’ll be here all day. If I don’t answer the door, come around to the back, since I’m building that shed Rena wants. Finally. Said she’d check around to see if Satan skated to work today.”
“Far as I know, Michael walked.”
They both laughed.
“I guess now that you have a wife, that crap about you and Rena will stop?” Richards sounded as if he was moving wood around as they spoke.
“Let us hope.” Duster stacked dishes in the washer. “We’ll be by in a few I think. If I can get my wife out of the house.” He said it with a giddy thrill. Not a vain woman, Diane would still want to look her best and he couldn’t wait to see her. Moreover, he couldn’t resist a surge of macho-male pride in showing her off, especially to those who had good-naturedly ribbed him about his monk lifestyle. He wanted them to see Diane so he could say now you know why I waited.
“Rena and the kids aren’t here. They went over to help the Rogers family with painting the new house and to give me time to do the rough on the shed without curious little hands wanting to help.”
“Another strong back would make quick work of it,” Duster offered.
“That it would,” Steve agreed. “And now that your wife is around, I imagine that nonsense about you and Rena not seeing each other will stop.”
“It would be nice if it did.”
“Always feel like it’s a code red when someone spots you coming. Foolishness, if you ask me. I know and you know and Rena knows you two aren’t remotely interested in each other. I’m gonna be real glad to have this crap put to bed once and for all, so to speak.”
“You and me both.” Duster looked up.
Diane stood in the archway to the kitchen, looking like a sexy, reserved, luscious kind of prim-and-proper teacher who knew all kinds of lascivious lessons.
Catching his gaze, she arched her brow in a deliberately slow and seductive way. And then she curled the edge of her glossy lips up to follow her suggestive brow.
Getting hard so fast he literally felt the blood drain from his brain and pool between his hips, Duster stammered, “We’ll be there soon.”
Cutting the connection, he told Scott to wipe off the table, then grabbed Diane’s hand and pulled her into the main room.
“What’s wrong?”
Wrapping her up in his arms, he kissed her, harsh and impatient. He didn’t stop until she kissed him back with the same feverish need. Once he heard Scott reenter the kitchen, he stopped.
“Wow.” Diane took a deep breath.
Pressing his forehead to hers, he whispered, “You look stunning. I’m almost afraid to show you off. I’m worried you’ll be like the pied piper with a trail of drooling males in your wake.”
Blushing, Diane traced her finger down his cotton-and-canvas-covered chest. “I have the same fear.”
“Why would a bunch of drooling males be following me around?”
Rolling her eyes, Diane said, “You know what I mean.”
“Dunno. I’ve been called everything from a monk to frigid. My favorite is the label of non-practicing homosexual. Like perhaps I know how to do it so well, I don’t need to practice anymore.”
“People think you’re gay?” Stunned, Diane said it with a blank face.
“Some. Guess who they think I’m pining for?” Duster fluttered his lashes and flicked back his head in a shimmering, effeminate manner.
“Michael?”
“Some have said.” Duster shrugged, then noticed the look on her face. “Are you about to ask me if I am?”
“Actually, yes, I was, and I don’t know why, because I know
you aren’t.” Diane giggled madly. “I feel punch-drunk with happiness. Giddy. I don’t think I’ve ever described myself as giddy in my life.”
“Do you feel like you’re about to wake up at any moment and find out none of this is real?”
“Yes.”
Softly, Duster pinched her fanny. “I could occasionally pinch you to remind you you’re awake.”
Just as boldly, Diane returned the pinch. “Okay.”
“I finished the table,” Scott declared as he entered the living room. He glared at his parents. “Aren’t you two ready yet?” He seemed incredulous they weren’t moving at warp speed.
“Keep your hat on, sport, we’re almost ready.” Duster looked at Scott’s shoes, then lifted up the skirt of Diane’s dress.
“What are you—”
“We’re gonna be walking. Do you have some suitable shoes?” Eyeing her still naked feet, he couldn’t believe just the sight of her slender ankles made him hot. More and more he felt like an adolescent boy. He’d never looked at any woman and got so excited except for Diane.
Looking around helplessly, Diane ventured, “I have a pair of sandals that match my dress.”
“Heels?”
“Modest ones.”
Scott groaned, loud and long, as if he alone suffered the torments of the ages. Hissing and dragging the word out until it had almost three syllables, Scott said, “Mom!”
“Here’s the plan. Scott? You verify all the gates in the backyard are locked. Then check all the house doors and windows. I’ll find some shoes for Mom.”
Scott took off like a rocket. He dug his heels in so suddenly his boots screeched on the kitchen tiles. “Then we’ll go see the puppies?” No way would he willingly follow another order without some clear sight to his goal.
“Then we’ll go.”
“Promise?”
“Barring a major catastrophe, I promise.” Duster watched Scott tear off to finish this last task.
“Do you have to keep everything locked up?” Diane’s concerned gaze turned to assess the peaceful space around them. Diane seemed to wake up from a dangerously false notion of security all at once. Parts of Windmere might look and feel like a cozy little rural community, but this was no patch of safe ground.
Stripper: The Fringe, Book 4 Page 22
