“Lil’s going to be happy when she sees that big cat,” Farley commented.
“She’s going to be ecstatic. She’s a beauty, no question about it. I hope she handles the drive without any trouble. Anyway, Lil said the temporary enclosure will be ready for her, and the permanent one’s already started.”
“Lil doesn’t wait for flies to land.”
“Never has.” She hunched inside her coat, as the short walk was still a cold one. Farley’s arm came around her shoulders, easing her against him.
“You’re shivering some.”
Not just from the cold now, she thought. “Ah . . . I think if we plan to pick up Cleo by seven, that’s early enough.”
“We’ll get gassed up first. Cut back on stops. We head out of here ’round six, that’d give us time to fuel up, get us some breakfast.”
“Works for me.” She spoke brightly while waging a small, violent war against her own hormones. “I can meet you at the diner. We’ll check out first, and go right from there?”
“We could do that.” He skimmed a hand down her back as they crossed the motel parking lot on foot. “Or we could walk over to breakfast together.”
“You can knock on my door in the morning,” she said as she dug out her room key.
“I don’t want to knock on your door. I want you to let me come in.” When she looked up, he turned her as smoothly as he had when they’d danced, so she was caught between him and the door. “Let me come in, Tansy, and be with you.”
“Farley, that’s not—”
His mouth found hers. He had a way of kissing her that had common sense, good intentions, firm resolve all slipping away. Despite sense, intention, and resolve, she was kissing him back.
Oh, hell, oh,
damn,
she thought, even as her arms locked around him. That rubber-band mouth of his was so good at kissing.
“It can’t go anywhere,” she told him.
“It could go to the other side of this door for right now. Let me come in.” He took the key from her, slid it into the lock, and kept his eyes on hers. “Say yes.”
No
formed solidly in her mind, but it didn’t come out of her mouth. “It’s going to be like the drink and the dance. One time. You have to understand that.”
He smiled at her, turned the knob.
LATER, AFTER MORE than one time, Tansy stared up at the dark ceiling. Okay, she told herself, she’d just had sex with Farley Pucket—twice. What the hell was she going to do now?
Best, she decided, to think of it as an out-of-town exception. Just something that happened. She was, after all, a mature, sophisticated, and experienced woman.
All she had to do was ignore that the sex had been incredible, both times. That he had a way of making her feel as if she were the only woman who existed. And that it wasn’t just her hormones losing the battle, but her heart.
No, she had to remember she was older and wiser, and it was up to her to put things right.
“Farley, we need to talk about this. We need to understand that when we get back, this isn’t going to happen again.”
He linked his fingers with hers, brought them to his lips. Rubbed them there. “Well now, Tansy, I guess I need to be honest and tell you I’m going to do what I can to see it does. I’ve had a lot of good things happen to me, but being with you? It’s the best.”
She made herself sit up, cautiously bringing the sheet with her so he didn’t get any ideas. “We don’t exactly work together, but you do volunteer at the refuge. Lil’s my closest friend.”
“That’s all true.” He sat up, too, his eyes quiet on her face. “But what’s that got to do with me being in love with you?”
“Oh. Love. Don’t say love.” Panic ticked at the back of her throat.
“But I do love you.” Reaching out, he brushed his hand over her hair. “And I know you have feelings for me.”
“Of course I do. We wouldn’t be here, like this, if I didn’t. But that doesn’t mean—”
“I think they’re strong feelings.”
“All right, yes. I’ll cop to that. But Farley, let’s be realistic. I’m several years older than you are. We’re in different decades, for God’s sake.”
“In a few years we’ll be in the same decade for a while.” Amusement showed clearly on his face. “But I don’t want to wait that long to be with you.”
On a huff of breath, she reached over and switched on the bedside lamp. “Farley, look at me. I’m a thirty-year-old black woman.”
He cocked his head, studied her as she’d asked. “More caramel. Jenna makes these caramel apples in the fall. They’re all golden brown and sweet on the outside, and just a little tart in. I love those caramel apples. I love the color of your skin, Tansy, but the color of your skin’s not why I love you.”
It made her shiver. It made her weak. Not just the words, but the look of him when he said them.
“You’re smarter than me.”
“No, Farley.”
“Sure you are. It was the smarter that made me nervous around you for a while. Too nervous to ask you to come out with me. I like that you’re smart, and how sometimes you and Lil will get talking about things and I can’t understand the half of it. Then I thought, Well hell, it’s not like I’m stupid.”
“You’re not stupid,” she murmured, undone by him. “Not anywhere near stupid. You’re steady and clever and kind. If things were different—”
“Some things you can’t change.” He took her hand again, so the contrasting tones showed in the light. “And some things, Tansy, make the different not mean one damn. Like this.”
He drew her to him, laid his lips on hers, and showed her.
IT FELT STRANGE knowing people with guns patrolled the edges of her compound. Strange even, at her own insistence, knowing she was one of them. Her animals prowled and called. The night was their time. And more, the scent of man, the glow of the lights kept them stirred up.
She spent more time with Baby, to his obvious delight, and the love in his eyes when he looked at her steadied her nerves. When she stood or paced or drank yet another mug of coffee, she outlined long- and short-range plans to keep her mind occupied and off the reason she stood and paced and drank yet another mug of coffee.
They would get through this, and that was that as far as she was concerned. If the person causing the trouble was this Ethan Howe, they’d find him, and they’d stop him.
She remembered him a little better now. She’d had to go back, look up Carolyn’s files, refresh herself on the reports and data in order to get a clear picture of the student. But once she had, she’d been able to reform one of the men who’d come around a few times to lend a hand, to flirt with Carolyn.
Above average height, she thought, slim build, strong back. Nothing special about him that she could recall. Not a lot to say, other than his claim to be descended not just from any warrior but from Crazy Horse himself.
Lil remembered being mildly amused by his insistence on that, and largely dismissing it, and him. She didn’t think she and this Ethan had exchanged over two dozen words. Still, hadn’t most of them had to do with the land, the sanctity of it, and
their
duty to honor it because of their bloodline?
She’d dismissed that, too, had considered him just another harmless oddball. But she remembered now that she’d felt him watching her. Or did she remember that because of hindsight, because of nerves? Was she projecting?
Maybe Tansy would remember him more clearly.
And maybe he had nothing to do with what was happening. But Coop’s instincts said he did. She trusted those instincts. Whatever problems they had with their personal lives, she trusted Coop’s instincts absolutely.
That, she supposed, was also a matter of her own instincts.
She shifted her stance, rolled her shoulders, as they wanted to stiffen up from her stint in the cold. At least the overcast sky kept some of the heat in, she mused. But she’d have preferred the stars and the moon.
In the harsh glow of the emergency lights, she watched Gull head in her direction. He gave her a wide salute. She expected the gesture was a precaution, to make certain she recognized him.
“Hey there, Gull.”
“Lil. Coop said I should take over for you here.”
“I’m grateful, Gull, for what you’re doing.”
“You’d do the same for me. Never been out here at night like this.” He scanned the habitats. “It’s kind of cool, I guess. Doesn’t look like those animals are getting much sleep.”
“They’re nocturnal. And they’re curious what all the people are doing out here in the dark. Losing sleep and drinking too much coffee mostly. He’s not coming back around here tonight.”
“Maybe he’s not because all these people are out here losing sleep and drinking too much coffee.”
“That’s a good point.”
“Go on, get inside, Lil. I’ve got this now. Unless you want to wander over and visit with Jesse. Like old times.”
She gave him a light punch in the arm. “I don’t think Rae would like that,” she said, referring to her old sort-of boyfriend’s wife.
“What happens at the refuge,” Gull deadpanned, “stays at the refuge.”
She headed back, chuckling. She saw others moving toward their trucks or cars as friends and neighbors came to stand in their places. Voices carried, so she heard jokes, sleepy laughs, calls of good night.
She quickened her pace when she spotted her parents. “You said you were going to use the cabin and get some sleep,” she said to her mother.
“I said that so you’d stop nagging me. Now I’m going home to get some sleep. You do the same.” She gave Lil a pat on the cheek with a gloved hand. “I know this is a bad reason, but it’s good to see people come out to help this way. Take me home, Joe. I’m tired.”
“You get some sleep.” Joe tapped a finger on Lil’s nose. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
No doubt about that, Lil thought as they separated. They’d keep close tabs on her until this was resolved. It’s the way they worked. And if the situation were reversed, it would be the way she’d work.
Inside, she stowed her rifle, then peeled off her outdoor gear. She glanced at the steps, thought about bed. Too restless, she decided. Too much coffee in the bloodstream.
She set a fire in the hearth, got it going. If Coop didn’t want one, he could bank it down. But at least it added more warmth and cheer to his temporary sleeping arrangements.
She wandered back to the kitchen, thought about making some tea. And decided she was too impatient to wait for the water to boil. Instead she poured half a glass of wine, hoping it would counteract the caffeine.
She could work, she considered. She could spend an hour at the computer until the edge wore off. But the idea of sitting still didn’t appeal either.
Then she heard the front door open and knew she’d been waiting for that. For him.
When she came back into the living room he was sitting down, pulling off his boots. He looked, she thought, alert, awake, his eyes clear as they met hers.
“I figured you’d be upstairs by now.”
“Too much coffee.”
He made a vague sound of agreement, and took off the second boot.
“Maybe I’m feeling as restless as the animals. I’m not used to having people around this time of night either. I can’t settle.” She walked to the window, stared out.
“I’d suggest a couple hands of gin rummy, but I’m not in the mood.”
She glanced back at him over her shoulder. “And I’m in your way. I could try solitaire.”
“You could also try turning off the lights and closing your eyes.”
“That would be the sensible thing.” She swallowed the last of the wine, set the glass aside. “I’ll go up, let you get some sleep.” She started toward the stairs, stopped, turned back. He hadn’t moved. “What if I want sex on the table?”
“You want to have sex on the table?”
“You said sex was off the table. Maybe I want it back on. Maybe I don’t want to sleep alone tonight. You’re here; I’m here. We’re friends. That’s established, right? We’re friends.”
“We always were.”
“So that’s all it is. Friends, and not being alone. Giving each other something to take the edge off.”
“Reasonable. Maybe I’m too tired.”
Her lips curved. “Like hell.”
“Maybe I’m not.”
But he stayed where he was, watching her. Waiting.
“You said you wouldn’t touch me. I’m asking you to set that rule or provision, or however you think of it, aside. Come up with me, come to bed with me, stay with me. I need to shut my mind off, Coop, that’s the God’s truth. I need some peace of mind. A few hours of it. Do me a favor.”
He stepped to her. “Doing you a favor’s standing out in the cold until two in the morning. Taking you to bed?” He reached up, ran his hand down her braid. “Doesn’t qualify. Don’t tell me you need peace of mind, Lil. Tell me you want me.”
“I do. I do want you. I’ll probably regret it tomorrow.”
“Yeah, but it’ll be too late.” He pulled her in, captured her mouth with his. “It’s already too late.”
He turned toward the steps, then gripped her hips, boosting her up so she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck.
Maybe it had always been too late, she thought as he carted her upstairs, and she let her lips roam his face as she had once, long before. Back in time, the familiar. Like closing a circle, she told herself. It didn’t have to be any more than that.
She pressed her cheek to his, sighed. “Feel better already.”
At the bedroom he turned, pressing her back to the door. And those eyes, the ice blue that had always snagged her heart, caught hers. “A hot bath makes you feel better. This is more, Lil. We’ll both have to deal with that.”
When his mouth took hers it wasn’t for comfort, or to soothe, but to ignite. So that slow simmer, never fully banked, came roaring back to full, furious flame.
Peace of mind? Had she thought she would find peace here, with him? There would be no peace with the war raging between them, inside her. Engulfed, she gave herself to it, and to him.