by Dana Nussio
Willow slowly withdrew her hand, but the atmosphere inside the cab had changed. The air was heavier, the space more intimate. Like the first flicker of a flame during a candlelit dinner, something had ignited, and there was no reclaiming that candle’s pristine wick before the brush of the match.
“I mean I’ve seen you with Harper. You’re a wonderful dad. She adores you. I think she has good instincts.”
“You’re a great mom, too.”
Not giving himself time to second-guess, Asher leaned forward until they were only inches apart. Her eyes were wide as she stared back at him, but she didn’t look away, didn’t back away. Her full lips called to him, begging for him to lean just a little farther, to close the tiny chasm, but still he waited. No matter what he wanted, and, oh yeah, he wanted, it had to be her choice.
Her tiny nod was all the permission he needed.
He dipped his head and claimed her lips, sinking into their almost impossible softness. No slow, polite introduction, his big hello came with the glide of mouths, a dance of tongues and a brush of teeth. Bells of caution clanged in his mind, but he tuned them out, lost in the sweet taste of her, the texture of her lips, the call of her sighs.
His splayed hands slid through her hair as he continued to delight in and then devour her lips. She returned his kisses with equal determination. A battle of equals where both were favored to win.
When even lips weren’t enough, he scooted from behind the steering wheel and slid his hands over her bare shoulders to draw her across his lap. He paused to cheer his genius for insisting on a bench front seat and then brushed his hand along her smooth, lean calf as he took her lips again.
He couldn’t get close enough or kiss her deeply enough. He wanted more and, unless his instincts had gone south in his months of celibacy, she was a more-than-willing partner.
Suddenly, she pulled her head back, but she had to take a few breaths before speaking.
“Now let me get this straight. Did you just kiss me because I’m a good mother?”
“No, that’s not—”
She grinned then. “If good parenting is an excuse to be kissed, maybe I should prepare myself for random strangers to stop me on the street. You should get ready for it, too.”
Willow was only joking, and yet the thought of anyone kissing her didn’t sit well with him. That should have served as a warning of high-voltage proportions, as if he needed another one, but he was ignoring them all.
He leaned in and took her lips again, this time in a slow and sensual exploration that had her shifting her bottom on his lap to move closer. When he pulled away again, he smiled.
“I kissed you because I haven’t been able to think of anything else since I walked in that office and saw you sitting there in those shorts.” Well, that wasn’t entirely true since he’d been imagining a whole lot more than just kissing her over the past few days.
“Is that so? You weren’t thinking about that beautiful baby sitting in my lap or the little angel you carried in your arms? Just me and my...shorts?”
He shook his head. “That’s not it. Sure, I was thinking about the girls, and—”
She stopped him by tilting her head and taking his mouth, kissing him as if it had been the only thing on her mind for days, as well. Her hands slid over his shoulders until they met behind his neck, where she sank her fingertips into his hair.
As his one hand brushed up and down her silky arm, the other took a more adventurous journey to the hem of her long, full skirt. He inched it up slowly, pausing to skim his fingers over each inch of newly exposed skin. She eased his progress by sliding her knees wider.
Then just as his fingertips brushed over the tiny bit of cloth at the juncture of her thighs, and he smiled against her lips as he noted the dampness, Willow jerked her head back and pushed forward off his lap.
“What are we doing?” She shook her head as she slid her feet back into her flip-flops. “We can’t do this. Oh my gosh. The hospital security car is right over there.”
She pointed through the window to a small white car patrolling the next lot, its yellow light flashing.
“What if that driver made it over here? What would we say we were doing?”
Asher tried not to chuckle, but he couldn’t quite remove the mirth from his voice. “I think they would figure it out all on their own.”
“It’s not funny. I’m a business owner in town. A childcare-center owner. I can’t be caught playing show-me-yours-I’ll-show-you-mine in the hospital parking lot.”
“Was that what was just about to happen here? Darn. We were interrupted too soon.”
She folded her arms over the chest that had so recently been pressing against his.
“Go ahead. Keep joking. But I know my business can’t handle negative publicity, and probably the last thing your family needs is more of it.”
He swallowed. It always came down to that. He was first, last, always a Colton. She was right that they couldn’t afford any more scandal right now. As with every other decision in his life, the family had to come first. Now he had to figure out how to quiet another potential firecracker, the one they’d just ignited together, before it blew up in their hands.
Chapter 14
Willow stared silently out the windshield as Asher drove his truck from the hospital parking lot and continued up the main street. What could she say about the activity she’d not only allowed but had been an enthusiastic participant in, right out in public? How could she have behaved so brazenly and carelessly outside the same building where her DNA and her daughter’s genetic material were still under scrutiny?
What could she tell Asher when her pulse had yet to slow completely, and she was still warm in places that had no business heating up for him? She was grateful for the darkness in the truck cab as the skin on her face and neck probably were still pink, having been abraded from the stubble on his chin. It was all she could do not to skim her fingers over her lips that felt swollen and sensitive.
How had she let this happen? She was a divorced mother. A respected local business owner. Unlike a sex-crazed college student with few obligations, she was up to her throat in them. And yet she’d been minutes, maybe seconds, from taking on a sexy cowboy in every sense of those words in the front seat of his pickup.
That he was a Colton should have been the worst part. No, that trophy went to the truth that given a less public setting, she would have enthusiastically continued the activity she’d interrupted before.
“Hey, you were supposed to turn back there,” she announced after he missed her street.
“Just give me a second.”
He drove three more blocks along the town’s deserted main drag and pulled into a parking space in front of Lucia’s Italian Café.
Willow sank down into the seat and crossed her arms. “If you think we’re going to just pick up where we left off, then you’ve got another think coming.”
It didn’t matter that she’d just considered the same possibility. Even now her skin still tingled from the delicious, rough touch of his calloused fingertips, reminders that he was a man skilled in working with his hands.
Maybe it had been a while, and she’d forgotten the zing of a first embrace, but something about being in Asher’s arms had felt different to her. Was she the only one left wondering if a kiss could be more than just a kiss?
“You’re safe here under the streetlights. I just want to talk to you.” He wrapped his fingers around the steering wheel. “I’ll even keep my hands right here, if that makes you more comfortable.”
It didn’t. That was the hell of it.
“Go ahead. Though I don’t know what we have left to talk about.”
“I’m sorry about...kissing you. I shouldn’t have done that.”
She waited for him to fairly share the blame with her over what had happened in the truck, but he studied his h
ands instead.
“Okay. You’ve apologized. Now can you take me home? I’m sure Candace wants to get back to her place, too.”
“Give me a minute. I’m trying to say something, okay?”
“All right.”
Asher shoved his hand back through his hair. He didn’t seem like the type of guy who’d ever be bashful about speaking his mind, but this must have been important to him. If she’d been happy to let him put his tongue in her mouth and his hand up her skirt, she could at least take a moment to hear him out.
He turned to face her, breaking his promise about the steering wheel.
“I think we should get married.”
The words rang in her ears, strange and discordant. “Are you serious?” she managed finally.
“Now hear me out.” He held up both hands, palms facing her. “We wouldn’t do it automatically. Only if we find out for certain that the girls were switched.”
“At least it wouldn’t be an automatic decision.”
He crossed his arms.
She lifted a hand in surrender. “Go ahead.”
“Getting married would be the best solution. We’d have the chance to be with both girls without disrupting their lives.”
“No disruptions at all?” Was he even thinking this through? The girls’ lives would be thrown into chaos, particularly Luna’s. Not to mention Willow’s, if he suggested that they all live together on the Triple R.
“Well, only a few. And for us, it wouldn’t be so bad. We’d get along. We’re already almost friends.”
Rather than look at him, Willow tilted her head back, shaking “no” against the headrest. This was not the difference she’d imagined when he’d kissed her.
“You know, Asher, little girls dream of one day receiving a marriage proposal just like that one. What it lacks in romance, it makes up in sheer pragmatism.”
“It’s not like that. It would be a good thing for the girls.”
“Thank you for your lovely offer, but I’ll have to decline.”
“We don’t even have the DNA results yet.”
“No, we don’t,” she said. “But if our girls were switched, and that’s still a big if, we can work out a legal arrangement. We could even have joint custody of Harper and Luna.”
Her idea didn’t sound like the best plan, but it was better than her initial worry that he would try to take full custody of both babies. His suggestion would still net him two babies, plus a bonus bride-of-convenience.
He shook his head, closing his eyes. “We’d never be able to keep the story out of the newspapers.”
“Is that what your big proposal is about? Don’t worry. I won’t go to the tabloids. I don’t need their money. Or yours.”
“I know you don’t. And you wouldn’t. But can you imagine what a great story a hungry young reporter could find in two switched babies in one family? Particularly if it’s the Colton family.”
He had a point. She hated to tell him, but the press would have a field day with that story, whether they were married or not.
“I don’t think you’re looking at this as the perfect solution it could be,” he continued.
“Probably not.”
She had to give him credit for his determination. Xavier had never begged her to marry him; she’d done so of her own volition. Asher might not have needed her to put a roof over his head like her ex had, but he still wanted something from her.
He must have known that he was wearing her down. She’d opened her mouth to tell him that if he’d stop asking, she would at least consider it, when he reached for her hands.
“We could make it work. We’ve already proven that our marriage could be, you know, interesting.”
Willow pulled away from his touch. Earlier images that had been delicious and colorful drained to soot. She knew the moment Asher recognized his mistake because his shoulders jerked.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“What exactly did you mean? Did you kiss me as a test? Were you checking our chemistry? Since you’re proposing a loveless marriage, did you want to make sure that we’re at least entertaining together in bed?”
He wrapped his fingers around the steering wheel again. “I just meant that we could have fun together.”
“Why’d you even worry about that? If you’re suggesting a marriage of convenience, you must know that you could outsource the ‘fun’ part, like my ex did.”
Asher leaned his head forward, his hair falling across his cheeks. “I don’t know what you expect from me.”
“I haven’t asked you for anything. But I can tell you this. I made a mistake once. I won’t marry another man who doesn’t love me.”
Memories of the hurt and humiliation that Xavier caused flooded her thoughts.
“I also won’t marry for security like my mom did, even if it ensures that my child will be with me full-time. I won’t marry the wrong guy like she did.”
He held his hands wide. “I’m not the wrong guy. I’m honest and dependable. And, you said it yourself, I’m a good dad.”
He looked away then. They both knew what had happened after she’d said that. Finally, he turned back.
“I promise I would be a good father for both girls, no matter which one of them is my biological child. I want to give them two parents who will love and care for them.”
“It’s not enough.”
He crossed his arms and slumped back in the seat. “It has to be enough because it’s all I have to give. I’m not looking for a real marriage. I asked for that once, and I got burned.”
“I’m sorry you’re so jaded. But if you stay closed off, you’ll miss the chance for real happiness when it comes along.”
He rolled his head to the side to look at her. “Thanks for the relationship advice, but I don’t have the luxury of worrying about my heart. I have a daughter to think about.”
“That’s what I’m doing, too. I am a role model to Luna, and I take that job seriously. I watched my mom pick the wrong man for the wrong reasons and end up with nothing but sadness.”
She shook her head to clear those memories of her mother’s muffled crying late at night.
“If and when I ever marry again, I will choose the right guy for the right reasons.”
* * *
“What the hell were you thinking, going rogue on the plan?” he said none too quietly the moment she answered the phone.
“Well, that’s a fine way to say hello. I sure hope you’re not at the grocery store or in a coffee shop.”
He harrumphed.
“I’m smarter than that. I’m outside. No one’s around. For once, give me credit for knowing what I’m doing.”
“Sweetie, of course you do.”
“That’s better. Because you know you can’t complete our little project without me. Don’t forget that.”
How could she if he kept reminding her? She’d never relied on a man for anything, and she hated having to do it now. “We’re in this together. We’re partners.”
“Now, tell me why I didn’t know the bomb threat was coming.”
Bomb threat? Her breath caught, and she winced over her lack of control. Had he heard her gasp? She needed to think. Maybe this was something she could use.
“Ingenious, by the way,” he said.
The breath she’d been holding came out in tiny puffs. “I thought so.”
She hadn’t exactly confessed, a good thing since she didn’t have the basic details of the threat yet. How was she supposed to keep the upper hand with her partner if he caught her in a lie?
“As long as you didn’t make the call to the Colton Oil headquarters on your cell so the police can track you.”
“Do you think I’d make a mistake like that?”
“You? No way. You’re an expert at the game.”
Unfor
tunately, they didn’t appear to be the only ones playing it. Just how many enemies did these people have? She didn’t care who the real caller for the bomb threat was, as long as he or she didn’t get in her way.
“What about all the other little happenings around town? Did you hire someone else to do it?”
“Can’t a girl have a few secrets?” she purred.
“Not about—”
“Really, honey.” Her matter-of-fact voice was back, but she didn’t care. “Don’t worry about the other things. They’re just distractions from your real purpose. Remember, you’re one of the most critical parts of our whole plan.”
“I guess you’re right.”
She always was. He would do well never to forget that.
Chapter 15
Spencer parked his patrol car that sunny Monday afternoon inside the community of pricey condos in the city’s industrial zone. Light brick exteriors, manicured lawns and a view of the mountains to die for, the neighborhood was an odd fit for Mustang Valley. Still, as a haven for young professionals who worked during the day, it was the only spot in town where a parade of officers in marked patrol cars could serve a search warrant in broad daylight.
As if on cue three other vehicles—most of his department’s fleet—pulled in behind his car, and the officers approached him.
“You ready for this?” Senior Detective P.J. Doherty said when he approached him.
“I’m more than ready to have a break in this case. Aren’t you?”
“Oh, you know we are,” Junior Detective Kerry Wilder answered for the both of them, while tucking a stray strand of long red hair back under her hat.
“Especially you,” P.J. said to Kerry, his impish grin in full force. “You have to be sick of investigating reports involving that branch of the Coltons. Have you reconsidered your decision to marry into that family?”
