No question about it, she needed to stay on her toes around Ace Carson. He was a charmer, and she had a feeling she was about to be completely charmed.
Nine
Less than an hour later, Ace closed the door on the police officer who got into his squad car and drove away. He knew he looked like thunder, but he couldn’t control himself. He knew that any ranting and raving was the last thing Crystal needed to hear right now, so he took a minute to pull himself together. When he turned back toward her, she was looking at him a bit anxiously, as if she wanted to help him, when it was supposed to be the other way around.
“Well,” she said, “I’m no worse off than I was before, you know. They’ve said that they’ve tried to contact Branson for questioning about the incidents, but he seems to have disappeared. Beyond that, they can’t just go looking for suspects on what little we’ve given them. I didn’t really expect more than that.”
He supposed he hadn’t, either, but he had at least hoped to be able to offer her some reassurance, some sense that she had more protection for Timmy and herself than just him.
“You’re too easygoing,” he said.
“I’m not.”
He chuckled at her insistence. “You are, and you’re not fooling anyone by pretending otherwise.”
She crossed her arms, then leaned forward until she would have been nose to nose with him if she’d been taller.
“I’m not a pushover. I know what I want and I go after it.”
“Really?” He arched a brow. “Well, what do you want, darlin’?”
She lifted her chin defiantly and frowned. He could almost hear the wheels spinning as she struggled to think of a good answer. “I guess I want…food. You promised Timmy and me food, or are you reneging on the deal?”
Ace grinned. “I deliver what I promise. Always.” Easy enough to do when he seldom promised anything.
Crystal leaned back and gazed at him with trusting eyes. “I believe you,” she said solemnly.
That simple. That easy. She believed him even though she didn’t know him.
“Come on,” he said, taking her arm and moving her along, his voice a low growl. “First we feed you and then we teach you something about trusting men too easily.”
“I already know about that,” she whispered. And yes, he supposed she did. She didn’t need someone like him giving her lessons.
At the family restaurant forty-five minutes later, Timmy’s eyes were like bright moons. After they’d eaten, the waitress had brought him crayons and a sheet to color and make into a hat if you punched it out and folded it the right way. He was scribbling madly.
“What’s that?” Ace asked, pointing to an indistinguishable blob.
“Bert.”
“And that?” Crystal asked, gesturing to a sort of egg-shaped thing with sticks coming out of it.
“Ace.”
“Um, a very good likeness,” Crystal said.
Timmy looked up at her and beamed. He turned to Ace, and Ace knew he was supposed to say something appropriate.
“No one’s ever made a finer picture of me, wildcat.”
Timmy sighed with contentment. He picked up a stray French fry and accidentally dropped it on his picture. The look of horror and woe that transformed his smile was immediate. His lower lip began to quiver. He turned desperate eyes to his mother.
“It’s okay, honey,” she said. “Everybody has accidents.”
Ace knew that it wasn’t okay for Timmy by the lost look on his face. Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but heck, the little boy had had some bad luck in his life, not the least of which was a father who didn’t want him. Someday he’d learn about that, and it would haunt him. And today he’d been yanked out of day care and away from his buddies early. Ace was not going to let anything spoil Timmy’s party mood tonight.
“An accident? You did that on purpose, didn’t you, wildcat? I saw this thing on TV the other night where the artist paints with food. You must have seen it too.”
Timmy looked a bit confused and taken aback. But then he looked down at the French-fry stain. He smiled and reached for the ketchup.
Crystal caught his wrist in a gentle grip. She gave Ace an exasperated-mom look. “No painting with food,” she told them both. “This is a restaurant.”
Timmy frowned. Ace sighed. “Shoot,” he told Timmy. “I guess she’s right. If we started painting with food, then everyone else here would want to do it, too, and then ours wouldn’t be so special. As it is, you got in one good French-fry mark to make yours stand out. I guess we’d better be happy with that. Looks great as it is, anyway.”
Timmy studied his work. He nodded slowly. “I made it. By myself.” And then he smiled shyly at Ace.
“You sure did, pal. Let’s take it home now.” Timmy clutched his French-fry-smeared paper hat close to him as they exited the restaurant.
At home, Crystal put her son to bed. She came out with an armful of blankets. “That was pretty quick thinking back in the restaurant. Where did you learn how to handle boys on the verge of tears?”
She was looking so lovely in pale gold with the moonlight streaming in through the windows, catching the red lights in her hair. Her eyes were filled with wonder and gratitude, as if she thought he held some special key to her son’s soul. He had to be honest.
“I don’t know beans about handling boys, but I’ve walked away from my share of women. I always try to leave them happy.”
She should have flinched when he said that. Maybe she should have simply turned and walked away.
Instead, she smiled slightly, a slow sad smile. “I wonder if you said that for my benefit or for yours.”
“It’s the truth.” And it was.
“I believe you, and I guess I should be offended, but…it’s nice to hear the truth, even if it isn’t exactly a nice truth.”
Of course. She’d heard nothing but lies from men. Now she was willing to settle for unfortunate truths.
He couldn’t help himself then. He moved toward her with no thought to making her happy, only comforting her. He had to comfort her. He wanted to make her forget the lies that other man had offered her. Taking the blankets from her arms, he slipped his hands to her waist and pulled her in slowly until her body barely touched his.
“You always deserve the truth, always the truth,” he whispered. And he took her mouth with his. Slowly. Very slowly. He pulled her closer.
And she came to him. She didn’t resist. She was soft in his arms, warm against his heart.
He pulled back then, looking down into her eyes.
She smiled. “That was very nice. You must have made a lot of women happy.”
And just like that, he felt like the jerk he was.
“Not so many,” he confessed. “Definitely no women like you.”
Crystal frowned in confusion. “What makes me different?”
He played with a soft strand of her hair. “You’re apple pie and ice cream, Sunday picnics, walks in the woods holding hands. Very…”
“Ordinary?”
“Special.”
“Hmm, that sounds like a lie.”
He shook his head slowly. “Believe me, it’s not.”
“But you don’t do apple pie and ice cream and Sunday picnics?”
“Not usually.”
“Why?”
“Those kinds of women are too open. They get hurt by men like me.”
“So you don’t want to hurt me?”
Again he shook his head. “Definitely not.”
“But you liked kissing me?” She seemed uncertain.
He grinned. “Most definitely. I loved kissing you.”
“I liked kissing you, too.” And she surprised him by sliding her hands up his chest, rising on her toes and pressing her lips to his again.
For five seconds his senses simply exploded. Sweet sensation, her softness, the honeysuckle scent of her, her mouth beneath his, all drove him insane and had him groaning. Then he caught her, slid his hand
beneath her hair and deepened the kiss.
Instantly his body reacted. He was aware of every inch of her pressed against him, how small she was, how delicate, how absolutely enticing.
He slid his hands down her sides, tested the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips, the way her skin felt beneath his fingertips.
“Ace.” She whispered into his mouth.
“Mmm?”
“Don’t stop kissing me. Just because of the apple-pie thing.”
He pulled back. “Not if the whole town of Mission Creek marched in here right now and demanded that I cease and desist.”
Then he kissed her again slowly, savoring the flavor that was distinctly Crystal. His lips still on hers, he slid his fingers beneath the top button of her blouse. His fingers stroked lower, outlining the swell of her breast as he deftly slipped open two more buttons and slid his fingers against the lacy edges of her bra.
“Let me look at you,” he whispered against her lips as he bent and kissed the curve of her breast. Gently, reverently. Her pale firm flesh drove him wild and he freed the rest of the buttons and flicked open the catch on her bra, exposing her beautiful rose-tipped breasts to his view.
Glancing up, he saw desire mixed with fear in her eyes.
“I won’t hurt you,” he promised, and he swore that he wouldn’t.
“I believe you.”
And then he slid down her, knelt before her, drawing her down to her knees, too. He bent, took the tip of one breast into his mouth.
A shudder went through her as she trembled in his arms.
He held her closer and kissed her again, only his shirt shielding her skin from his.
From another part of the small house came a clinking sound, then water running.
Crystal gasped. She fumbled with her bra. “Timmy. He gets up now and then for water.”
“Shh, sunshine,” Ace said, ignoring the deep throbbing of his body as he quickly fastened the clasp she couldn’t seem to manage. He took two deep breaths and slowly buttoned every button. “It’s okay,” he said. “Do you need to go help him?” He could still feel her heart thudding against his fingers.
She shook her head. “No, he has his own special cup he likes to use. He wants to do it himself.” But she looked distraught.
He caught her chin in his hand. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said. “I started this.”
Crystal frowned. “Now who’s lying? I definitely kissed you back and I asked you not to stop.”
“You’re a woman, Crystal. You’re human.”
“I’m a mother first.”
He smiled. “And you’re a damn good one. Just don’t be too hard on yourself for this, all right? You may have kissed me, but I kissed you first. And I was the one who went beyond kissing. You didn’t ask for that.”
“I didn’t stop it. I enjoyed it.”
Oh, he wished she hadn’t said that, because he was just beginning to get his desire back under control. Now the fires were flaring again.
“I’ll take the blankets and set up on the couch,” he said. “Let’s just put tonight down to stress and nerves and the demands of the past few days.”
She thought about that. “Yes, you’re probably right. That’s all it is. I certainly don’t go around acting like this normally.” Her voice was strained, uncertain. She moved away and left the room, clicking the door closed behind her.
He waited until she had gone and then he sank onto the couch. He could still feel her on his fingertips, taste her on his lips. The ache to have her and complete what they’d started went deep. It made him restless.
She said she didn’t go around acting like this normally. He should feel good about that. She didn’t go to pieces in every man’s arms. She had been saving up her passion.
For whom? Him? A man who had a bad history with the Carsons, her friends and the most prominent members of this town? He couldn’t escape that, couldn’t forget that past. It had colored his whole life and had changed his mother’s life forever. He didn’t want to be a part of this community or a part of the world Crystal inhabited. He couldn’t spend his life trying to meet the requirements. He’d tried to do that when he was a boy. Tried and failed. No, he definitely could never be an apple-pie-and-ice-cream kind of man, which was what she really needed.
The passion between them was real and undeniable, but it wasn’t what she needed at all.
He should keep his distance. For tonight at least he could do that. He could stay right here on this couch. And he would.
Hours later, tossing and turning on the too-small couch, Ace reiterated his intention. He would stay here on this couch, away from Crystal.
But damn, it wasn’t going to be easy. The night was proving long and restless.
And who knew how he would get through tomorrow or the next few days?
One thing he knew. If she needed apple pie and ice cream then, for the next few days while he was here, he would give her that. At least that much. He’d do it because he didn’t want her worrying that he’d invade her bed and then leave her alone again afterward.
For the next few days he would be the perfect gentleman.
No touching Crystal.
Deep in his soul, he howled an objection.
“Tough, buddy. Get used to celibacy. She’s not yours to take.” And he turned his back on his objections, wrapped the blanket around him and rolled over.
In the night he dreamed of Crystal wrapped up in the blanket with him. No surprise that she was naked.
Some things, like dreams, a man just couldn’t control.
“What is that?” Crystal asked the next evening when Ace pulled up in a luxury van and wrestled a huge box out onto the ground.
“Nothing much.”
She crossed her arms. “That’s not much of an answer.”
He flashed her a smile. “I just thought it might be nice for Timmy to get out and have some fun, so I thought maybe a drive-in. My mom and my stepdad used to do that now and then. Timmy’s a little young. So I thought maybe the drive-in could come to him.” He pulled out his keys and slit the box, sliding out a big-screen TV.
“Ace.” That one word sounded like a warning.
“He’ll like it,” he said, and he almost sounded like Timmy pleading for a favor. She almost laughed at the look on his face.
“He’ll get used to things like this and then when you’ve gone it’ll be a punishment for him to return to his old life.”
“No, he won’t. I’ll explain that this is a one-shot thing.”
“Ace, please.”
“I brought popcorn and a VCR and kid movies. Animated stuff. We can hook the machine up outside and sit out under the stars and pretend that we’re at the drive-in.”
She lowered her lashes, then looked up again. “That sounds dangerous.” A slight blush warmed her cheeks and she reached up to cover them. She couldn’t help thinking about what it would be like to go to a real drive-in with Ace, to be closed up in a dark car together.
She looked up at Ace and found him watching her. His eyes were narrowed and dark, like a man on the verge of taking a woman into his arms and kissing his way down her naked body.
Heat swirled through her. “Ace?” she asked, and she hated the way her voice quavered.
He stared at her fiercely for several long seconds. Then he cleared his throat.
“Under the right circumstances, it could be dangerous, but not tonight. We’ll have Timmy with us. Right between us. All the time,” he said. “Come on, Crystal. Say yes.”
She couldn’t help laughing then. “Ace, why are you doing this?”
He got a stubborn look in those gorgeous blue eyes of his. “You don’t have enough fun in your lives. You mostly have men like me pawing at you or at least wishing they could. You need more fun, and so does Timmy. It was supposed to be fun. Apple-pie fun,” he said simply.
Fun. He wanted her and Timmy to have a little fun in their lives. Crystal’s throat nearly closed up.
“All right, thank
you,” she managed to say. “Thank you, yes.”
So Ace set up the TV and the tape player and the couch on the lawn. Timmy hovered near, giggling and hopping up and down on one foot and generally getting in Ace’s way, though the man never would say so, Crystal thought as she made dinner.
He wanted her to have fun while he was here. Before he left, he wanted to give her and her son something he thought was missing from their lives.
She knew where he was coming from, because she wanted him to have something that was missing from his life, too.
But the one thing that she kept thinking of, she knew he wouldn’t like. The one thing Ace was missing was family.
What was she going to do about that?
Two days later Ace pulled onto Crystal’s street after work and just sat there. For the past two days he’d been vigilant about keeping watch on her house. He’d grilled the director down at the day-care center to see if she knew anything more about the man who had delivered the teddy bear for Timmy. He’d once or twice had a feeling that he wasn’t the only one watching the house, but then he was beginning to be suspicious about everyone where Crystal and Timmy were concerned. A woman alone with a little boy was vulnerable in so many ways. He wanted to wrap her up in the blanket on his couch and protect her. He wanted to warn every man on the street that she was not to be tampered with or bothered or to be taken lightly, but of course all of that was meaningless. Once he was gone, he couldn’t protect her.
Ace blew out a breath, shook his head and moved his car down the street, intending to turn into the drive.
There was a car already there. Several in front of the house, too. Nice cars. Cars with the Lone Star Auto emblem on the back.
Swearing under his breath, Ace advanced on the house. “Crystal,” he called.
She appeared in the door almost instantaneously. Was that an anxious look on her face? No, he must have been mistaken. She was smiling sweetly.
“Ace, I’ve almost got dinner ready. Come in and sit down. I…I’ve got a few guests over tonight. You remember Fiona and her husband, Clay, of course.”
Ace turned and stared at Fiona. She smiled and waggled her fingers at him. “Hi, Ace.”
Her Sweet Talkin' Man Page 11
