With a can of cola perched between his legs, salty chips in hand, he shrugged, then grinned. "I wouldn't know about eating healthy."
It amazed Windy that he could eat such junk yet maintain that brawny body. There wasn't an ounce of wasted flesh on Sky. He was lean and toned to perfection. Then again, he was athletic and active. A man who thrived outdoors. A blue-eyed, Native American Tarzan.
"So what are you going to do for your birthday?" he asked.
"How did you know my birthday was coming up?"
"Edith told me."
"Of course," she said, then answered his original question. "A friend is taking me out. We'll probably go to dinner, then maybe to a movie afterward."
"Oh." His eyes turned dark. "Is this friend a guy?"
She suppressed a smile. Apparently Tarzan was jealous. "A girl. Another teacher where I work."
He glanced down at his sandwich, then back up, his lips tilting crookedly. "Do you believe in astrology? You know, birth signs and all that."
Windy popped a grape into her mouth, shaking her head as she chewed. "Not really, no. Do you?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. Sometimes the personality traits seem pretty true. Like you're a Cancer. Or a Moonchild, as some people prefer to call it. Anyway, from what I've read, you fit the bill."
"Really?" The fact that he'd read about her astrological sign pleased her, even if she didn't believe in fortune telling. "So what is a Moonchild supposed to be like?"
"Family oriented. Sensitive, gentle-natured. And the women are maternal, the type who love kids."
"Gee, that does sound like me."
He flashed his dimples. "Told ya."
Her heart tripped. Dang that schoolboy smile. "So what sign are you?"
"Scorpio. At least I think I am. I'm not sure if that fake ID had my true birthday or not."
Windy appreciated that he spoke about his past fairly easily with her now, even if he frowned whenever he broached the subject. "There wouldn't have been any reason for you to change the month and day, just the year."
"Yeah, I guess. And Scorpios are supposed to be highly sexual beings so…"
"So celibacy must be really difficult for you."
"Truthfully," he said, after swallowing another gulp of soda, "I was doing okay until I met you. My undue suffering is all your fault."
"Oh, please." She jabbed his ribs and watched his silly grin widen. "I'm hardly a diva."
"Then you must have put a sex spell on me, little teacher, because jumping your bones is all I think about."
Windy pushed away a flare of anger that surfaced. She would have preferred a love spell, but hid her disappointment, trying to ignore his ungentlemanly admission. Jumping her bones didn't quite compare to her fantasy about making love. Somehow, they didn't sound as if they meant the same thing. He would never fall in love with her, she realized. All she was to him was a sexual fantasy.
Sky removed his shirt, laid it on the grass, then reached for Windy, urging her to enjoy the sunshine with him. Within moments they were side by side, their heads resting on his shirt, his hat propped upon his naked chest. She plucked another grape and offered it to him, telling herself to forget about her romantic notions. At least they were friends.
He eyed the grape curiously before sucking it into his mouth. "Did you know that if you cut a wild grapevine and spread your hair under the sap, it'll grow long and luxuriant, like the vine?"
"Who told you that?"
He tickled her cheek with a strand of his hair. "Creek beauty secret."
Windy moved a little closer. "What else do the Creeks believe?"
"Well…" Sky looked thoughtful before he responded, his lips tilting in an impish smile. "If a person doesn't spit four times when he sees a shooting star, he'll go blind or all his teeth will fall out."
She squeezed his arm playfully. "You made that up."
"I did not." He raised three fingers in a mock Boy Scout pledge. "Honest, honey."
Windy rolled her eyes and Sky laughed. "I'd rather wish upon a shooting star," she said. "Wouldn't you?"
"Yeah."
His wistful tone prompted her next question. "So what would you wish for?"
"I'd change the past, I suppose."
"How so?"
"I'd fix some of my mistakes. Do things differently."
Windy hoped he'd continue, but he chose to study the tree instead. "What things, Sky?"
"Stuff I don't want to get into right now." He glanced over at her. "I know you want to help me accept who I am and what I've done, but talking about it isn't going to change anything. I have to handle things on my own."
What things? she wanted to shout. And what had he done that had him disliking himself? "Just remember if you ever do need to talk, I'm here, okay?"
"Okay."
As Sky gazed up at the eucalyptus branches again, a hawk chose that moment to take wing and fly. The rustling leaves and magnificence of the bird startled Windy. She gasped and Sky swallowed. Neither said a word as the hawk soared away.
* * *
Chapter 10
« ^ »
Sky allowed his gaze to roam over the woman standing beside the stove. She was humming a familiar tune he couldn't quite place. The lilting sound washed over him like an aphrodisiac.
She looked slightly mussed yet beautiful. A simple blue dress hugged her waist, flowing loosely to her ankles. Her feet were bare, her wild locks gathered into a loose ponytail. He studied her svelte form, then sighed. His eyes were becoming accustomed to the length and contour of her body, but his hands were sorely deprived.
Windy turned and caught him red-handed. "How long have you been standing there?"
His Adam's apple bobbed. "Not long."
She set the spoon down. She had been stirring a big pot of something that smelled really good. "Why do you do that? Sneak up on me?"
Immediately he got defensive. "I don't sneak."
Her hands flew to her hips in a womanly gesture. "Yes, you do. You do it all the time."
"Are you trying to pick a fight or something?"
"No. I'm just tired of you ogling me all the time."
What the hell? "Jeez, woman, what got into you?" One minute she's humming, the next baring her teeth.
"You. That's what." She picked up the serving spoon and brandished it like a weapon. "All I am to you is a sexual fantasy."
Sky frowned. What she'd said wasn't true. Being around Pretty Windy was the worst kind of torture. Mostly because his feelings for her went beyond sexual. He cared about her. Cared? He was obsessed with her. She invaded every beat of his heart, every breath he took.
Sky raked his hands through his hair. What did all of that mean exactly? He'd never been obsessed with a woman before, never let one get under his skin. Had Cupid decided to play a trick on him and punish him for his sins? Had the mischievous matchmaker made the rotten cowboy fall for a woman he could never claim? A woman who would be repelled by his biggest sin?
Oh, hell, what did it matter? He'd never ask Windy to be a part of his life. He had nothing to offer a woman like her. He could dream about her until the moon turned blue, but it wouldn't change a thing.
"Aren't you going to answer me?" she snapped, jerking him from his disturbing thoughts.
"What am I supposed to say?"
"You could at least admit it's true." She waved the spoon again, sending spurts of liquid flying. "Do you think I like being told that all you think about is jumping my bones?"
How typically female, he thought. Now she was going to harp about something he'd said days ago. He considered accusing her of having PMS, but decided that would only tick her off even more. An apology, he supposed, was in order. He did follow her around the house like a rutting buck. "I'm sorry, okay? And you're not just a sexual fantasy to me." He forced out his next words, hating to admit them out loud. "I care about you."
Her eyes grew wide and kind of fluttery. "You do?"
Uh-oh. Time to change the subject. If she kept
looking at him like that, he'd bare his Cupid-enhanced soul. He moved closer. "What's on the stove?"
She smiled. "Vegetable soup."
"It smells good."
"Do you want some?"
He rarely ate soup. Or vegetables. But after inadvertently provoking an argument, how could he refuse? "Yeah … sure."
Windy ladled the soup into a cup and handed it to him along with a spoon. He dipped into it and raised an odd-looking vegetable. The soup was filled with stuff he didn't recognize. He took a bite and swallowed quickly, not expecting to like it. Two spoonfuls later he decided it tasted as good as it smelled. "The big day's almost here, huh?"
She shrugged. "Just another birthday."
He'd been searching his rattled brain for the perfect gift, something personal, yet nonromantic. The last thing he wanted to do was allow her to guess how deep his feelings ran. He'd never given a woman a birthday gift before. He didn't do those kind of gestures well. But then, he'd never had to. Windy was the first woman who'd ever played havoc with his heart.
Sky finished the soup. "That was good. Don't recall if I've ever had homemade vegetable soup. Sure beats the canned stuff."
Windy smiled appreciatively. "Thanks." She took his empty cup and placed it in the sink. "Sky, I care about you, too."
"Yeah, I know." He glanced away then back again. "We're friends."
She twisted the ring on her finger, the one that had gotten tangled in his hair the day she'd nursed his bruises. The ruby was her birthstone, he surmised, wondering if it had been a gift from someone special.
"Sure, we're friends," she said, still turning the ring. "But I have to tell you the truth, Sky. I feel more for you than that."
Oh, no, he thought, fearful of what she might say. "Look, we've already established the fact that we've got this man-woman thing goin' on. There's no reason to beat it to death. We're attracted to each other, and sooner or later we'll get over it."
She exhaled a shaky-sounding breath. "I'm not sure I'll get over what I feel. Believe me, I've been trying to, but it's just not that easy."
Didn't he know it. Visions of her clouded his every thought. "Try a little harder, okay? Because I'm not up for this. And neither are you."
Tiny and determined in her summer cotton dress and messy ponytail, she stood her ground. The kitchen was her domain, he realized. Her sanctuary. If she needed to make a confession, it would be there, among the sparkling counters and red gingham.
"Sky," she said, meeting his wary gaze, "I know you're a loner and relationships have been difficult for you, but I think it's important for you to know that there are people who love—"
"Don't!" he shouted, then steadied his voice. "Please, Windy. Don't say it. Don't you dare tell me about all the people who love me." He raised his hand above his head. "I'm fed up to here with your psychology treatments. This orphan doesn't want to be loved."
Immediately her eyes glazed—a painful, teary glaze. He cursed his hurtful words but refused to take them back. If he explained why he didn't want her to love him, then he'd have to admit how he felt about her. And then the truth about his past would surface, and the terrible thing he had done to a child who needed him. He wasn't ready for Windy to hate him yet. Maybe he'd never be ready. Maybe he'd rather leave knowing someone did love him—someone decent and kind and pure.
"I gotta get out of here." He strode from the kitchen to the front door without looking back. He needed to be alone in his misery. Solitude he could handle. He'd been alone all of his life.
* * *
At 3:00 a.m. Windy paced the length of the kitchen, a cordless phone cradled against her ear. "I'm so worried." How many times had she said that to Edith tonight? And how many hours had they been on the phone? "The bars closed at two. Where could he be?"
Edith's tone was quiet, patient. "Skyler's a grown man, dear. He can take care of himself."
"But you didn't see his face when I tried to tell him how I feel about him." He'd looked almost afraid, she thought. Afraid and angry. "He said he was tired of my psychology treatments, but I wasn't—"
"I know. You fell in love with him, and it's your nature to help people. You didn't do or say anything wrong."
Windy blinked back the tears threatening her eyes. "What if he doesn't come home?" Maybe he'd just drift out of her life. Disappear for good. He didn't want her to love him. He'd said so.
"He'll be back," the other woman assured. "He had promised to stay with you until September, and he will."
Windy sat at the table and stared at the herb tea she'd brewed but hadn't been able to drink. Sky might walk out on her, but he wouldn't leave Tequila. That snake had been a part of his life for too many years for him to abandon it. She knew how difficult it had been for him to put a lock on Tequila's cage. Edith was right. He'd be back. He would never leave Tequila with her; she was still afraid of the enormous reptile.
"This waiting is driving me crazy," she said. "Dang it, where could he be?"
"Alone somewhere, I would imagine," Edith responded with a sigh. "I doubt Sky has ever been involved in an emotional relationship before. You're going to have to give him some time to adjust."
"I know." Windy hadn't planned on telling Sky how she felt. It just happened. And it hadn't even been an outright admission. She had only implied that she loved him, yet he'd become enraged, anyway. "I'm new at this too, Edith. He's the first man I've ever been in love with."
"Being in love is wonderful, dear. But it can be overwhelming, too. I enjoyed being married, but my husband, God rest his soul, was a difficult man at times. I suppose it had something to do with the difference between men and women. We never seemed to understand each other." Edith clucked her tongue.
"Oh, God … I hear someone outside. I think he might be home." Windy rushed into the living room and stared at the front door. The jangle of keys jolted her frantic heart. When the doorknob turned, she caught her breath. "It's him."
"Okay." Relief sounded in Edith's voice. "Remember, give him some time. And if either of you need me, I'll be home tomorrow."
"Thanks. Bye." She pushed the power button on the phone and stared at the man standing at the front door.
"Hi." She placed the phone on the coffee table. "Are you all right?"
He took a step forward then proceeded to the couch, where he glanced down at the coffee table. "Who were you talking to?"
"Edith."
He dropped his head back as though extremely tired. Or intoxicated. "You shouldn't have brought her into this."
"I needed someone to talk to. Are you drunk?"
He lifted his head. "No."
"I thought maybe you'd been to a bar. It's so late, and I kept wondering where you'd gone."
He pulled his hand through his hair. He looked unkempt, wind tousled and wrinkled. His shirt was untucked, and the bottom of his jeans cuffed with dirt. "Is that your way of asking me where I've been?"
It was, she supposed, but she hated to admit it. "You were upset when you left. Once it got so late, I was worried you might have gone to a bar and gotten into a fight."
"I went for a long drive. Ended up at the beach."
That explained the dirt on his jeans—moist sand. "So you stood near the water and watched the tide come in?"
"Yeah. It was a quiet place to think."
She remained in the center of her own living room, feeling uncomfortable. Sky seemed like such a stranger now, someone she couldn't communicate with. If she asked him what he'd been thinking about, he'd probably accuse her of trying to conduct a therapy session. It hurt that he kept throwing her psychology training back in her face. It made her feel as if he was trying to discredit her. "Edith said she'd be home tomorrow if you need anything."
He removed his boots and placed them under the coffee table. "I couldn't talk to her about this."
Windy took a tentative step closer. "Can you talk to me?"
"I suppose I'll have to since it concerns you."
That flapjack sensation starte
d flipping her stomach again. She didn't want to push him, yet she needed to repair the emotional devastation between them. She couldn't apologize for her admission, though. She wasn't sorry she'd fallen in love with him.
Windy moved toward the couch then sat beside him, gauging Sky's response. She prayed his posture wouldn't stiffen, or his eyes wouldn't turn hard. The rejection would kill her. He'd already broken a piece of her heart today. She couldn't take much more.
He looked her way. His eyes weren't hard, but they were cautious, she noticed. A wary shade of blue. "I still don't like L.A.," he said.
She swallowed. "Does that mean you're moving sooner than you'd anticipated?"
"No. It means just because I spent some quality time at the beach, my opinion of the city hasn't changed." He heaved a masculine sigh. "I figured out why I've been so sexual with you, and it's not the celibacy."
She would have preferred hearing about love rather than sex, but she sat patiently, waiting for him to continue.
"I've never been attracted to a woman who's so moral. Who's actually saving herself for the right guy." He looked up at the ceiling then at the coffee table, as though momentarily avoiding her gaze. "It's making me a little crazy."
Windy didn't understand. "You're going to have to explain that one."
"Yeah, I suppose I am." This time he looked directly at her. "I think I'm jealous of the guy who will eventually get you." The corners of his mouth formed a sad smile. "My imagination goes nuts, envisioning you with someone else, knowing he's going to do the things to you that I want to do."
She didn't dare ask about those things, although she wanted to know. Her imagination had been going crazy with fantasies of him. "There's more to a relationship than the physical side."
"I know. And that's where the rest of my explanation comes in." He exhaled one long, heavy breath. "There's a part of me that wonders what it would be like to be the guy you've been saving yourself for—to be that special to you. I know you claim to have feelings for me, but we both know there's no future for us. It's foolish for either of us to dream about what's never going to be."
SKYLER HAWK: LONE BRAVE Page 12
