by Debby Conrad
“Well, don’t just stand there,” the woman barked. “Come sit down.”
Rusty turned to glance back at Luke and Jeremy, smiled and then stepped forward. “Hello, Mrs. Smith. I’m Rusty Paris.” She held out her hand in greeting.
The gray haired woman brushed her hand away. “We’re not that formal around here. Besides, I already know who you are.”
“You do?” She studied the bulky woman, trying to figure out if she should know her for some reason.
“Of course. You’re the spitting image of your father. You were just a little thing when I last saw you. But you haven’t changed much. Still scrawny as ever, I see.” She pushed Rusty toward the table. “Go sit down. Eat some of my cookies. Maybe they’ll fatten you up some.”
Rusty closed her mouth and sat.
“And you two,” she said sternly, scowling at Jeremy and Luke. “Where have you been? An old woman could die out here and no one would know. My front walk could use some shoveling. Can’t git out to git the mail, you know.”
Luke narrowed his eyes. “Why hasn’t your nephew taken care of it?”
She waved a hand, pivoted around and went to the stove. “Steve’s in Florida. Won’t be back for another week.” She picked up a wooden spoon from the counter, stuck it in the sauce pan and stirred.
“You should have called me,” Luke told her. “Tell you what. After we finish our hot chocolate and cookies, Jeremy and I will take care of it for you.”
“Only if you have marshmallows,” Jeremy teased. He came and sat in the chair next to Rusty’s.
When Luke and Mrs. Smith joined them at the table, Rusty smiled politely and helped herself to a cookie. One wouldn’t hurt. And besides, she was a little hungry after her skating ordeal.
Luke didn’t ask if she wanted marshmallows in her hot chocolate, but simply reached into the plastic bag and tossed a heaping handful into her cup.
She could feel watching her while they sipped at their drinks and ate. And she avoided looking at him as much as possible. He made her nervous, and what was worse was that he knew it. He’d said he was going to make love to her when they got home. And they’d be home soon.
She really had nothing to be afraid of. It wasn’t as if she were a virgin. She was experienced and acutely aware of the way things worked between men and women.
Except, she could count her former lovers on one hand. Two fingers to be exact. The first time she’d only been nineteen. And he’d been as nervous and inexperienced as her. Their relationship had lasted for nearly six months before he admitted he was too young to be involved with just one woman and wanted to move on.
The second time had been five years later with a man much older than her. Not that forty was old, but compared to her twenty-four years at the time, it had seemed that way. They’d dated for months before she’d finally consented to sleep with him. She’d expected him to take his time, to teach her some things. But instead, he’d crawled on top of her, grunted twice and that was that. The whole incident had left her feeling insecure and ashamed. She’d ended the affair the very next day.
And now, Luke wanted to make love to her. She had no doubt that he’d know exactly what to do. She’d already had a taste of what it would be like with him. He could make her turn to a puddle of liquid just by looking at her. She could only imagine what it would be like to have him deep inside of her, whispering sexually charged words in her ear.
But what if she couldn’t please him? What if he found her awkward and boring? How did someone learn about those things? It wasn’t as if there was some course at a local university.
Perhaps she should just tell him the truth. I don’t have much experience in matters such as these. No, that would sound just plain stupid.
Maybe she should tell him she didn’t want to make love with him. That she found him repulsive and ugly, that she didn’t want his work- roughened hands on every inch of her skin, his warm lips on her mouth or a few other places. No, that wouldn’t work either. He’d take one look at her and know she was lying.
“Rusty,” Luke said, interrupting her thoughts. She shifted her gaze around the table. Everyone stared at her.
“I’m sorry. What did you say?” She prayed her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.
Angling his head, Luke said, “I said Jeremy and I are going to go out to shovel the walk. How about keeping Mrs. Smith company?” He scraped his chair back.
“Oh, I’d be delighted.” She smiled brilliantly for the woman.
Once Luke and Jeremy were gone, she let loose a sigh of relief.
“So, how long have you two been involved?”
“Ex …” Rusty cleared her throat and tried again. “Excuse me?”
“You and Luke? He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. And you,” she said, pointing a brittle finger at Rusty’s face, “you try to act coy, like you’re not interested. Well, you don’t fool me.” Her eyes were bright with interest. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” she said a little too briskly. “I mean, I don’t think so.”
“But you’re not sure, I can tell.”
Rusty laughed. “I appreciate your concern, but I don’t think it would be appropriate conversation for your kitchen table.”
Mrs. Smith raised her fuzzy gray eyebrows. “Oh, so it has to do with sex.”
Rusty nearly choked. She grabbed another cookie from the plate, took a huge bite. In between bites, she managed, “These are so delicious. Luke said you made the best cookies, and he was right.” She desperately needed to change the subject. “Your cupboards look freshly painted. Did your nephew help you?”
“Nope. Luke did them last fall.”
Great. They were back to Luke. “What part of Florida is your nephew visiting?”
“Orlando. Took the wife and kids to Disney World or is it Disney Land. I always git those two confused.”
“I believe it’s Disney World.”
Nodding, Mrs. Smith smiled at her. “He’s a good man. They don’t come any finer.”
“Your nephew?”
She laughed. “You’re a shrewd one, Rusty Paris. You knew darn well I was talkin’ about Luke.”
“He’s an ex-con.” She didn’t know what had made her say that. Maybe because she was looking for an excuse not to make love with him. But still, it wasn’t fair to blurt out something like that. The poor woman probably didn’t even know. “I’m sorry. That was careless of me and inexcusable.”
“He was just a boy. Barely eighteen when all that happened.”
So, she had known.
“He paid for that mistake. Two years of his life. It’s over.”
Rusty felt miserable. She felt her tongue go thick. “What happened?”
“Luke should be the one to tell you. I don’t like spreading gossip.”
“I understand.” She looked at the older woman, apologetically. “I think sometimes he wants me to think the worst of him. In fact, he practically bragged to me about being a car thief.”
Clucking her tongue, she sighed. “That sounds like Luke.” She picked up her cup and drank from it. “It was the night of his high school graduation,” she began. “He and some other boys got a little rowdy, drank a few beers. He and his mama and step daddy had just moved here from Texas, and Luke, to rebel had become friends with the wrong crowd. Then one of them had this brilliant idea about borrowing a car from someone. That someone was Luke’s mama’s current husband. Luke’s step daddy, Randy Hastings. A mean son of a bitch, pardon my French.” She picked up a cookie, broke it in half, and dunked it into her cup. “They didn’t mean to steal the car, just wanted to take it for a little spin. They planned to return it before anyone was the wiser, but they ran out of gas about five miles from Luke’s house. Thinking he was doing the right thing, Luke went home and confessed.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad. What happened?”
“Randy had it in for Luke. Never liked the boy. Randy’s uncle was a judge. They told the other boys if they said it was L
uke’s idea to steal the car, they’d drop the charges against them, and only Luke would pay. Well, I don’t have to tell you what happened. He’s been paying ever since.”
“But it was his first offense.” She defended him, knowing in her heart that it was true.
“Nobody ever said life was fair.”
Rusty felt sick inside. Two years in prison just because of a stupid mistake. “Didn’t his mother try to defend him?”
Mrs. Smith smiled sadly. “Nope. She did not.”
Now she simply felt angered by the injustice of it all. And sorry for Luke. “Thank you for telling me. You said he’s been paying ever since. What did you mean by that?”
“I think I’ve said enough. Luke should be the one to tell you about Christine. And he will, when he’s ready.”
Christine? It was the first time she’d heard the name. Was she an ex-wife or ex-girlfriend? Was Luke over her or still in love with her? Before she could give it any more thought, Luke and Jeremy were back. For now, she’d put it out of her mind. Just for now.
Once again, they bumped down the road. Rusty sat sandwiched between Luke and Jeremy until they pulled up in front of the Meyers’ house.
Jeremy opened the passenger door, flooding the truck’s interior with light. “See ya, Luke. Goodnight, Rusty,” he said, then leaned over and kissed her cheek.
Rusty smiled at his retreating form as she watched him scurry up the front porch steps. He was going to be her brother, and she liked the idea. A lot.
She looked over to see Luke’s watchful eyes. “I had fun tonight.”
“I’m glad, Princess.”
He began backing out of the drive, one hand on the wheel, the other draped casually across the back of the seat. His fingers brushed her shoulder. She hadn’t realized she still sat next to him. Reaching for her seat belt, she said, “I’ll just slide over and give you some room.”
He gave her shoulder a small squeeze. “Stay right there. Please.”
And she did. They didn’t talk much on the drive home. She was too nervous to talk. Once inside the house, Luke went through the rooms, turning off lights, checking the locks on the doors. Jack greeted them with a couple quick thumps of his tail.
Rusty started for Sam’s room. “I’m going to let Sam know we’re back, see if he needs anything.”
“I’ll check on him. You go on upstairs.”
She felt his watchful gaze on her as she walked slowly up the stairs. Inside her room, she quickly shed her wet jeans. She couldn’t wait to soak in a tub of hot water. Her toes were still cold. Looking in the mirror she decided she looked deplorable. Her cheeks were red and chapped from the icy, cold wind, her hair a tangled mess.
She brushed through the curls and secured them with a barrette. Hardly a hair-do for a woman about to make love. Or had Luke forgotten his earlier words? He hadn’t said a word about it on the drive home. In fact, he’d barely spoken to her.
Maybe he’d been playing with her, just to see what her reaction would be. And what had that reaction been? First, she’d been shocked that he’d simply had the nerve to announce his intentions. Then, she’d covered up by pretending she hadn’t heard him.
Perhaps he’d had second thoughts, and he no longer wanted to make love to her. Well, he could have at least said so. Instead of leaving her to wonder what he was thinking.
She released her breath on a long sigh. She couldn’t handle this. She needed time to think. After her hot bath, her mind would be clearer. Sighing again, she set the hairbrush down on the dressing table, shoved her arms into a robe and quietly opened the door a crack.
“Looking for me?” Luke greeted her with a calculated smile and a gleam in his olive eyes.
“No, why would I be?” She clutched tightly at the robe lapels with one hand, held the door with the other.
“Because I thought we had plans.” He tilted his head and studied her face through the narrow door opening. “Do you want to use my room? My bed’s bigger than yours.”
“No!”
“Okay, we can use your room. Your bed.” He pushed on the door.
She pushed back. “I don’t want to use either bed.”
His face lit up and his grin turned wicked. “Okay. The floor? The bathroom counter? You pick.”
She knew he was trying to amuse her, but it wasn’t working. “Look, Luke, I’ve been thinking and—”
“That’s your problem, Princess. You think too much. Why not just let things take their course?” He pushed on the door a little harder this time and managed to nudge his sock covered foot through the crack.
She stood her ground. “Because, Mr. Galloway, that’s the way I do things. I don’t just jump into bed with a man simply because I think he’s sexy.”
“You think I’m sexy?”
“No! Not at all.”
“Liar,” he said. His fingers stroked the back of her hand. Without thinking, she let go of the door and jerked her hand away. And he slipped inside the room. “Why can’t you admit that you want me as much as I want you?”
Licking her lips, she backed away and folded her arms around her. She watched his gaze trail down the front of her and back to her face. “Nice outfit.”
She spun around, gazed at her attire in the mirror. She’d shoved the silk robe over her navy blue, turtleneck sweater. On her feet were the bulky, gray, wool socks Luke had loaned her. Between the socks and the hem of the robe, her legs were bare.
Their gazes met in the mirror. Rusty couldn’t look away, not when he stepped behind her and circled his arms around her. And not when he whispered in her ear.
“Rusty, let me make love to you.”
The next thing she remembered was being carried off to his bedroom.
Luke set her on her feet, although she didn’t look very steady. “Are you okay, Princess? You look … nervous.”
Hell, he was nervous himself. He would have had a double shot of bourbon if he hadn’t thought the mere smell of it on his breath would have turned Rusty off. Now he’d simply have to wing it.
It wasn’t as if he didn’t know how to please a woman. He’d given lots of women pleasure over the years. But Rusty was different. She deserved more.
“I’m not nervous,” she said, her voice soft and shaky. “I’m terrified.”
He laughed, pulled her close to him and held her. “Me, too.”
Her head snapped up. “Are you just saying that to make me feel better?”
“No. I’m being serious.” Her hair smelled like fresh, winter snow mixed with just a hint of her perfume. He pulled at the silk tie to her robe, watched as it fell away and the lapels parted. His fingers playfully tugged at the hem of her sweater. “Don’t you think you should take this heavy thing off?”
“No.” She pushed away from his arms. “Not yet.” He watched as she pulled the robe securely around her and sat down on the edge of his bed. She kept her eyes averted, folded her trembling hands in her lap.
“Rusty, I’m not going to force you if that’s what you’re thinking.”
She lifted her head, met his eyes. “I know that.”
Relief washed over him. He ran his hands through his hair, then over the stubble on his face and chin. He should have showered and shaved, but he’d been in too damn a hurry to get to her.
He sat beside her on the bed, careful not to touch her. Because he knew once he touched her he wouldn’t be able to stop. “I didn’t want to care about you.”
She turned her head, looked into his eyes. “Is that supposed to be an insult or a compliment?”
Shaking his head, he smiled at her and felt a huge weight lift from his shoulders when she smiled back.
“I may be committing a major mistake, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here.” As soon as she said the words, she looked as if she meant to take them back.
Luke raised his eyebrows, but let her finish.
“I mean, I feel so clumsy.”
“I happen to like clumsy. Maybe you’ll bump into something
you weren’t planning on bumping into.”
“I don’t know how you like to be touched, or where,” she rambled on. “Or if you like the top or the bottom, or oral sex, or …” Her face and neck flushed. She pressed her open palms over her eyes in embarrassment.
Laughing, he said, “Yes, to all of the above.”
“Why can’t I just keep my mouth shut?”
“Don’t do that, Princess. I like your mouth open.”
She lowered her hands and gave him a mortified look.
“Why don’t we find out what we like, together?” With that, he took her hands in his and squeezed them tightly.
They sat staring into each other’s eyes until he felt the wall around her crumble. Only then did he kiss her.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
HE TOOK HIS TIME with her, making her feel cherished. He kissed every inch of her face, eyelids, neck and throat. And then he kissed the same spots again.
His callused hands skimmed her face, then trailed down her body to skim the tops of her thighs. His fingers toyed with the edges of her panties, driving her wild with lust and need. She lifted her hips off the bed, frustrated when he moved his hand away. She could barely catch her breath.
“Relax, Princess,” he whispered against her throat. “We’ve got all night.” His tongue, hot and moist, traced a path along her bottom lip and jaw. Her hands clung to his flannel shirt, afraid to let go. She needed him, more than she’d ever needed anyone.
His masculine scent turned her on. Soap and the fresh outdoors.
He slid downward, nuzzled his face against her sweater covered breasts. Rusty encouraged him by placing her hands in his hair and pressing his head gently to her. Through the sweater he teased her nipples into greedy peaks. And then he moved lower.
After lifting the hem of her sweater, his mouth explored her bare stomach, his warm breath tickling her skin and navel. With his teeth, he tugged at the waistband of her panties and lowered them an inch. Heat rippled beneath her skin. She wanted more.
