A Family Man

by Mindy Neff

  Chase nearly groaned. He wished she would kiss him and make it all better.

  With the excitement over, most of the customers went back to making their selections and exclaiming over the lingerie. One woman hung back, though, studying Chase with an expression that had his senses sharpening like radar. Vira, he remembered, of Vira’s Beauty Shop. And by God, she still had blue hair.

  “Hold on to your hat, sugar,” he whispered. “We’re in for it now.”

  Josie saw the direction of Chase’s gaze and felt her heart sink. No, she wanted to scream. Not now. Not here.

  “Why, I declare,” Vira drawled loud enough for every blessed soul in the shop to hear, “that child looks enough like you…Well, if a person didn’t know better, they’d think you was his daddy.” The downward droop of her hazel eyes held just the right amount of curious, yet innocent expectation.

  Josie wrapped her arms around J.T. as if she could physically shield him from what was about to take place. She couldn’t breathe, yet she knew she must. Her gaze shot to Chase.

  What she saw in his eyes caused her heart to swell and nearly break. He was not going to give away her secret. Their secret.

  But he would give away his own.

  She couldn’t let him do it, couldn’t let him once again be the boy from the wrong side of the tracks, held up for public censure by small town bigotry.

  And the main reason she couldn’t let him do it was because she loved him.

  Josie stood, depositing J.T. on his feet, yet keeping a protective hand at his shoulder. “Miss Vira, that’s perfectly—”

  “Close to the mark,” Chase finished, rising to stand beside her.

  “Chase, you don’t have to—”

  Again, he interrupted her, his lips stretching into a wide, I haven’t got a thing to hide smile. “You see, Miz Alexander’s husband was my half brother.”

  Vira gasped. As if the ears of every soul present had honed in on his words, conversation ceased. Once again, Chase was at the center of attention, an attention that held enough censure to make him sweat.

  The difference was, he was no longer a child. As a successful adult, he was hardened to the judgment of others.

  But Josie wasn’t.

  He saw her shoulders square, knew she intended to come to his defense. She would do so without thinking, he realized. As much as he’d like the whole sordid business out in the open, he couldn’t let her do it.

  Giving Vira a flirtatious wink, he grinned. “I’m right honored you pointed out the resemblance, Miss Vira. This here’s a fine lookin’ boy.” He ruffled J.T.’s dark hair. “Now, if you ladies will excuse me, I’ve got an airplane to fly.”

  The lingerie sale had been a success, but Josie’s nerves were shot. As she heated leftover spaghetti sauce, she fought a growing sense of desperation.

  She was in love with Chase Fowler.

  Not an easy love, by any means. It was a love destined for horrendous snags and tough times ahead.

  Because of who she was. Bobby Alexander’s widow. The mother of Bobby Alexander’s son—or so everyone believed.

  She felt a pang of guilt when she thought about Chase and Bobby in the same context. Her love for Bobby had been gentle, easy, acceptable, a love born out of a childhood friendship which had grown and blossomed with adulthood.

  Her feelings for Chase were not nearly so peaceful. There was nothing restful about the storm of emotions he created within her: hot, immediate, demanding, an intensive pull that kept her on the edge like a heart-pounding scream boiling to a flash point, threatening to erupt at any given moment.

  And so hopelessly unacceptable that she nearly gave in to that scream.

  Still she sought his company, drawn to him like a moth to flame, knowing full well the fire represented danger, but unable to resist the lure.

  The lure of love.

  She fed J.T., all the while keeping a watchful eye on the kitchen window, expecting any minute now to see the headlights of Chase’s truck turning down the lane.

  Deep down, she suspected he wouldn’t show up. She’d asked him for time. Hurt him. Yet he’d still stood by her, protected her from public censure, turning the spotlight on himself.

  Darkness fell like a heavy blanket across the countryside. She heard the lonely whistle of the southbound train as it chugged along beyond the pecan orchard. The powerful roar of the steam engine and the clackity-clack of wheels along the track gave her a funny feeling inside, as if her life were somehow racing away, heading down an endless track in the wrong direction.

  She felt restless. And lonely.

  Since it didn’t appear that he was going to come to her, Josie made a decision. She would go to him. It was time to stop hiding. Time to answer that fire she saw burning in his steady blue eyes.

  After all, she was a widow. She had every right to date whomever she pleased. And by darn, she deserved to take this journey with Chase, to ease the ache just the sight of him created, even if she wasn’t certain what the outcome of their relationship would be.

  He’d sacrificed himself for her today. He’d had the perfect opportunity to force the issue of J.T.’s paternity. But for her, at the expense of his own feelings, he’d held back. Admitted to a bigoted town that he was illegitimate.

  He was a man of honor. A man she could trust.

  Unable to sit still a moment longer, Josie lifted J.T. from the high chair and washed his face. Her heart pounded without reason and her hands trembled. “Want to go bye-bye?”

  “’Kay.”

  Josie smiled. “You’re always ready to go, aren’t you, sweetheart? I wish I had your endless energy.”

  “Go see airplanes, Mama?”

  It seemed J.T. was just as anxious to see Chase as she was. “I don’t know about the planes, sweetie. It’s pretty dark out there.”

  “Please?”

  “We’ll see.” Josie hesitated for just a moment, then threw a change of clothes for each of them into a carryall bag and tossed it in the back of the Bronco. Just in case.

  The airstrip was quiet this time of night, the office dark. Yellow crop dusters were angled in a neat row outside the hangar, their engines silent. The smell of chemicals and motor oil hung heavy on the evening air. It was a familiar scent that Josie didn’t find offensive.

  An asphalt drive curved up a steep hill leading to a two-story rambling farmhouse that had been quite grand in its day. The house had belonged to Grandfather Alexander. The intent had been to pass it down through the generations, but Inez hadn’t deemed it fancy enough for her tastes, so the home had sat empty since the death of Leroy’s father some fifteen years back.

  It felt good to see lights once more burning in the windows. Josie parked around back and gently lifted J.T. from his car seat. It seemed the excitement over seeing the yellow airplanes couldn’t withstand the droop of his eyelids.

  Through the screen door she saw Chase sitting at a Formica table that had surely been around since the fifties. A ledger book was spread out in front of him and invoices were scattered in no particular order. Absorbed in what appeared to be haphazard financing, he hadn’t noticed her arrival.

  “Looks like you could use a good secretary.”

  His head jerked up, his eyes squinting as if he had a hard time focusing. Then that slow, sexy smile crossed his lips. “You applying for the job?”

  “I can.”

  He rose and held open the screen door. “Sugar, some day you’ll give so much of yourself away, there won’t be anything left for you.”

  Josie shifted J.T. against her shoulder. “I like keeping busy.”

  “I can think of much better ways to keep you busy.” He gave her a look that was so direct, so utterly personal, that she felt her palms begin to perspire.

  She didn’t need to comment on his proposition. His tender smile indicated that her thoughts and simmering desire were plain enough to see.

  “I’m glad you came,” he said softly.

  Josie nodded. “It was time.�
�� Time to stop hiding. Stop worrying.

  The grandfather clock ticked in the hallway, marking seconds of anticipation as they stared at each other.

  “Want to lay the baby down?” His eyes were steady, deep blue and patiently waiting. The course of the evening was up to her.

  “Yes.”

  “Will you stay?”

  “I’d like that.”

  He touched her hair, so very gently, then lightly passed his palm over the back of J.T.’s head. “This way.”

  She stepped farther into the spacious old kitchen that just begged to be remodeled, and followed as he led the way through the formal dining room, parlor and up the stairs. Sparsely furnished, the house held an appeal all its own. It had lots of great oak moldings and carved wood. Most of it needed refinishing, but the potential for grandness was there. Josie would never understand how Inez could think this house wouldn’t suit. Its charm and ambiance tugged at you, a place that could be formal or homey, with tons of spacious rooms that ought to be filled with toys and the happy sounds of children’s laughter.

  Somehow, Josie couldn’t picture Inez putting up with sticky fingerprints on the walls or toy trucks scattered on the stairway, or shrieking children running about. She’d been very adamant on the subject when Bobby had been growing up, instructing the maid to keep things just so.

  What a waste.

  The room he took her to was freshly painted and decorated. With a toy chest in the corner and lots of shelves and storage space, there could be no doubt that it had been made over expressly for a child.

  Their child.

  “You did this for J.T.”

  “I have dreams too, Josie.”

  “Oh, Chase….”

  He placed a finger over her lips. “Don’t. Not tonight.”

  He was right. Soon enough, reality would intrude. Decisions would need to be made and dealt with. She nodded and settled J.T. in the wide double bed, knowing her son would sleep through the night. The glow of a night-light in the shape of an airplane gave off just enough illumination to dispel any fears the little boy might have should he happen to wake up. It was a thoughtful touch to a perfect room.

  Leaving the door slightly ajar, she took Chase’s outstretched hand. “I have something for you,” he said.

  His bedroom was charmingly antique without appearing prissy. A raised four-poster bed of dark mahogany stood in the center of the room, its image reflected from several angles by oval, beveled mirrors, both freestanding and attached to the dresser.

  “This is beautiful. Did you decorate it yourself?”

  “Yeah. There’s some great furniture tucked away in the attic. I haven’t had a chance to go through all of it yet, but this is a start.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought—”

  “That I’d go in for frills?”

  The room wasn’t frilly. It was seductive. Overstuffed pillows, a down comforter, an incredible one-arm lounging sofa, all done in shades of wine and deep green on a rose-hued background. Only a man comfortable and confident in his own masculinity could lay claim to a room like this.

  “My mom wasn’t what you would call a fancy lady, but her bedroom was something else. I used to love going in there. She said people made the mistake of downplaying the master suite. Even though it was Dad’s room too, it was one hundred percent feminine. She said that way, Dad always felt like he was being invited into his own room.”

  “Did he? Feel that way, I mean.”

  “Yeah. It kept the spark in their marriage.” He’d been leaning against the doorjamb, watching her. Now he straightened, his steps unhurried as he went to the dresser and picked up a brown sack. “This is for you.”

  “What is it?”

  “Open it.”

  She reached in the sack, her fingers encountering the smooth feel of silk. She knew without having to look that it was the emerald green nightgown.

  A smile welled within her. “So you’re the one who bought it.”

  “I had it on good authority that it was your favorite.”

  She clutched the cool material in her hands, already imagining the sensuous feel of it sliding over her heated skin. “Yes, it is. Thank you.”

  “Will you put it on for me?”

  Her brows drew together. “Now?”

  “Yes. I want to see you in it.” His voice lowered to a whisper, roughening with a thrilling, excruciatingly sensual promise. “Then I want to take you out of it. Very slowly…very thoroughly.”

  Chapter Twelve

  His words touched off a riot of sensations, as if each of her nerve endings was being tantalized by an exposed current.

  The lights burned low, creating images of soft whispers and fervent touches. He looked sexy and dangerous leaning negligently against the wall by the dresser. A collarless, black T-shirt hugged his torso, accentuating his long, thick neck. The look in his blue eyes both challenged and invited.

  Her chest rose as her breathing changed. She’d never had a man watch her so intently. It was almost as if he were testing her, waiting to see if she’d stick around.

  She’d blown hot and cold on him so often lately, she really didn’t blame him. Earlier she’d made a decision to come to him, to explore this burning desire between them, the love. It was the right decision.

  This man knew her heart, her hopes…even her taste. That he’d bought the one piece of lingerie she dearly loved and hated to part with told her this. But the nightgown wasn’t the only gift he’d given her today. He’d given her the gift of his trust.

  She wanted to repay that trust by trusting him with her vulnerabilities, her secrets, her body.

  Easing the blazer off her shoulders, she let it drop to the floor, then reached back and lowered the zipper of her skirt.

  It, too, fell to the floor, leaving her standing in her bold red camisole and matching garter belt.

  Chase sucked in a fierce breath. “Stop right there.”

  She thought her heart would pound out of her chest as she watched him cross the room, his stride measured, aggressive, his intense eyes never wavering.

  “I think we’ll leave the nightie for another time.”

  Josie reveled in the husky, unsteadiness of his voice. “You don’t think I should make sure of the fit?”

  “I never doubted the fit.” His hands came to rest on her shoulders, his warm breath creating goose bumps on her overheated skin as he shifted her hair to the side. The look in his deep blue eyes thrilled her. His lips cruised over her neck, his tongue seeking and finding the sensitive place behind her ear. In response, as though there were an electric current between the spot he’d kissed and her breasts, her nipples pebbled.

  “I’ve been fantasizing about these silky scraps of red since I saw them lying on your bed this morning.”

  He inched the hem of her camisole up, then slowly, sensually, slid it over her head. Dropping the garment on the floor, he turned her so that she faced the mirror.

  “Your undies are hell on a man’s blood pressure.” His palms slid around to cover her satin-encased breasts. “I like this. It’s sexy. Feels silky, but different.”

  Josie could barely breathe. “It’s a new fabric. An experiment.” The design was one of her newest and one of her favorites. The innovative fabric gave the garment a remarkable fit, designed to sculpt every curve with sensuality. Judging by the tightening of Chase’s jaw, it lived up to the reputation she’d hoped for.

  “Works for me.” His lips whispered over her skin. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me, too.” Her eyes met his in their reflection, then lowered to where his large palms were gently cupping her breasts.

  Each breath she took caused her chest to rise, increasing the pressure of his palms. It wasn’t nearly enough. With hands that trembled, she reached up and pressed against the backs of his hands.

  “You want more?”

  Her head fell back against his shoulder. “Yes,” she whispered, surprised that her vocal cords were even capable of sound.r />
  The warmth of his palm seared her as it slipped down, his strong fingers cupping her through the silky barrier of her panties, holding her to him in a sensual vise.

  Josie’s knees nearly buckled. She arched back, her breath catching in her throat, frustrated with the barrier of clothing separating the warmth of his skin from hers.

  He seemed to know exactly what she needed. Unhooking her bra, he cupped her breasts as they spilled out into his palm, his thumb and forefinger rolling her distended nipples, setting her on fire. “You’re so responsive.”

  “You’re so good.” Good Lord above, where had this boldness come from?

  “I can be better.” As he slipped her panties down her legs, his lips rained wet kisses down her spine, over the sensitive roundness of her buttocks and at the backs of her knees.

  He turned her in his arms, grasped her bottom and the backs of her thighs and lifted her. She nearly climbed up his body as she sought to appease the torturous ache between her legs. If she’d been capable of a single, coherent thought, she might have wondered at the complete loss of rational dignity, but here, at this moment, all she could think about was the incredible power of her mounting desire, her incredible love for this man.

  As he carried her toward the overstuffed chaise, each step he took created a delicious friction of denim against her naked flesh. Josie gripped him with her legs, pressing harder. She couldn’t get close enough. She felt an edge of madness steal over her, urgency, sharp and impatient, as she rained kisses on his lips, his jaw, his neck.

  “Easy, baby.” He rocked her against him, hard and sweet, for the briefest of moments, then lowered her to the couch and stood back.

  “Chase…?”

  “Now that I’ve got you here…in my house, I don’t want to rush.” He pulled his shirt over his head and let it drop to the floor. Muscles rippled and flexed as he slowly undid the button of his jeans. Her heart pounded, pumping blood through her veins, making her throb in every secret pulse point. This waiting was pure agony. Never had she experienced this overwhelming fierceness of desire.