Lone Star Daddy (McCabe Multiples) (9 page)

“Clint,” she rasped, sorry now she’d sped on ahead, aware she had never felt pleasure that intense.

But he didn’t look unhappy as he rose above her. Instead, he was smiling like he’d won the championship.

His head lowered, her hands clutched his biceps, and she shuddered at the tender intimacy of their connection. “We’re just getting started,” he said.

He kissed her breast, making good on that promise, letting his tongue slide over the nipple.

Then he exited the shower just long enough to retrieve a condom. She watched, mesmerized, as he rolled it on. Then he settled her against the wall. Her legs wrapped around his hips. A shaky breath escaped her. And then they were kissing again, as if the kiss was an end in itself. He kissed her possessively, with exquisite gentleness and precision.

She was wet and open. He was hot and hard. And then there was no more waiting, no more wondering what it would feel like to have him inside her. For the first time in her life, she lost herself completely in passion and desire. He was just as intent on giving her what she needed, the size of him filling and stretching, thrusting into her over and over.

She loved being with him like this, feeling like he was hers, just for this moment. Loved hoping he would not eventually realize her life was so chaotic that she would never have enough time for him...and abandon her, just like her ex had. But even as they took each other to the very height of bliss, she knew that very well could happen.

Her body still quivering with aftershocks, Rose slumped against Clint, knowing she had never felt this physically content and well-loved. Nor been as worried about what was potentially a huge mistake.

A sigh of wistfulness swept through her.

Clint smoothed a hand over her wet hair. He pressed a kiss to her temple, his body still as damp and shuddery as hers. “What are you thinking?” he murmured in her ear.

Rose drew a deep breath, still trying to calm her racing heart. She extricated their bodies, moved past him and stepped out of the stall, gathering up her clothes as she went. Aware he was still waiting, she forced herself to look into his eyes and say what was on her mind. “The truth? That this wasn’t what I intended when I came up here.”

Chapter Eight

Talk about a kick in the gut. Especially after the no-holds-barred way they had just made love. Clint shut off the water, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. “What do you mean, it wasn’t what you intended?”

She shimmied into her wet panties and slipped her bra on. He stepped behind her to fasten the clasp, his fingers brushing her silky soft skin.

Her back still to him, she snatched up her shirt and slipped her arms through the sleeves. “The only reason I barged in here was because I thought you might have passed out or gone into anaphylactic shock or something.”

Well, that was a new one.

Spinning around, she caught the look of wry amusement on his face.

He didn’t know why she wouldn’t just admit she’d come up there to join him in the shower and, now that it was over, had second thoughts about it. Just the way she had when they’d kissed.

“It’s not that far out in left field,” she said as she tugged on her jeans. Which wasn’t easy, given how wet they were. He grew hard again, watching her wiggle and pull.

Deciding it might be a good idea for him to get dressed, too, he walked into the bedroom. Grabbed a pair of boxer briefs, then a clean pair of jeans. “I told you all I had was a simple contact allergy rash.”

“I know that.” She sauntered into the bedroom, cowgirl boots and soggy socks in hand. “But sometimes things happen.”

Yeah. Sometimes things happened. People made love. And didn’t run from the consequences after.

Oblivious to the lusty nature of his thoughts, she let her glance fall to the pants he was pulling on. The arousal he’d been trying to ease sprang back to life.

She turned away, the color in her cheeks letting him know she had noticed. Swallowing, she set her boots down on the floor and slid her bare feet into them. Beneath her wet blouse and bra, her nipples pearled.

“Such as...?” he drawled. It was all he could do not to reach out, haul her right back into his arms and show her all over again what incredible chemistry the two of them had.

“Things like medical emergencies,” Rose said heatedly.

Clint blinked and, for both their sakes, tried to harden his heart. “You thought I was having one?”

She lifted her chin and locked eyes with him. “I worried it could be a possibility.”

She was serious. He came closer, listening.

“As it turns out, my sister Violet is extremely allergic to bee stings, but no one knew it until the first time she got stung. If my parents hadn’t both been doctors and had EpiPen injectors in their medical bags, she probably would have died before we ever got her to the hospital.”

The chalky color on Rose’s face let him know how traumatic that had been for her, and still was to this day.

He zipped up his jeans. Then, barefoot, bare-chested, he moved toward her. Determined to comfort her yet again, he murmured, “I’m sorry.” He cupped her shoulders so she wouldn’t bolt and looked down at her. “I didn’t know that.”

Her gaze fell to his chest. For a moment she looked as if she were tempted to run her fingers through the mat of hair spreading across his pecs and down to his fly—the way she had when they’d made love—but then she swallowed and took another deep, quavering breath. “Anyway, you were up here so long, and that rash had looked so awful when you left, that my imagination ran wild.”

So had his, but not for the reason she thought. Which was yet another motivation for him staying so long in the icy shower. He’d needed to cool off. Tamp down the desire to make her his. And look how well
that
had turned out...

He wanted her to be his woman more than ever.

But did she feel the same way about him? The tension coiling inside him once again, he tucked a hand beneath her chin and lifted her face to his. “Well, now you know.” He rubbed his thumb across the curve of her lower lip. “I always take long showers.” It was one of the luxuries in this life he regularly afforded himself. Although they were usually hot and steamy, not ice-cold.

Rose nodded. Something mysterious came and went in her green eyes. Finally she said, “I have to go home and change clothes and then go over to Lily’s and get my kids. But before I go—” she swallowed “—I need to ask. Can we please just chalk this up to yet another of my grand mistakes and forget this ever happened?”

* * *

G
RAND
MISTAKES
? J
UST
when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did. Wanting to understand her, Clint grabbed a clean shirt from his closet. “What were the others?”

He accompanied her into the hall.

Soft lips twisted into a frown, she started down the staircase, grabbing her purse and key ring on the way out. “The biggest was marrying a man I should only have had an affair with. Because in truth, all Barry and I ever really had was passion, and at the end, we didn’t even have that.” Slinging her bag onto her shoulder, she stepped onto the front porch.

He watched her sort through the keys until she found the ignition key for her Rose Hill Farm pickup truck. He said, “Yet you had three kids together.”

Her chin lifted in the stubborn way he was beginning to know so well. “Because I wanted a baby. Barry never did.” Sighing, she looked off into the distance, toward the setting sun. “But he said he would be okay with it if I took the majority of the responsibility and did all the parenting.”

“And you were satisfied with that?”

She swung back to face him. “No, but I thought he’d feel different once our baby was born.” She released a breath and looked down at her hands. “Then it turned out to be triplets.” Another sigh, deeper this time. “And all Barry ever felt was trapped and overwhelmed,” she recounted sadly. “Or, as he told me on the day he left us, raising kids just wasn’t his thing. And he’d prefer not to be involved.”

“What a jerk. You and the triplets deserved better.” Clint leaned against one of the posts holding up his porch roof. She looked so disappointed that his heart ached for her. “Where is he now?”

“The northeast somewhere, climbing the corporate ladder, but I really don’t know much more than that. The child-support checks he sends me are delivered via the state of Texas.” Exhaling wearily, Rose pushed the damp curls off her face. “Right now it’s not an issue for the kids. They haven’t yet started clamoring for a daddy, but eventually that will happen, and I’ll have to help them understand that’s not a realistic wish under the circumstances.”

It could be, Clint thought.

He, for one, would love to be daddy to her kids.

If their momma loved him.

And right now, given the wall she had around her heart, it wasn’t likely Rose would let him—or any guy—in.

On the other hand, he had faced tougher challenges in his life. And now that he’d experienced the magic of making love with her, he was even more motivated to break down those barriers.

He studied her closely. “And you blame yourself for this situation you’re all in?” Despite the fact she could hardly be comfortable in her soggy clothing, she perched on the porch railing, one foot flat on the wooden floor, the other bent toward her calf.

“I hold myself accountable for not being realistic from the get-go, yes.” She continued, recollecting unhappily, “You see, I found out the hard way that, for a union to be a success, you have to be on the same page as your spouse on pretty much everything before you ever walk down the aisle together. Otherwise, you’re just speeding toward disaster.”

“You don’t think opposites can attract?”

She gave him a look that said they had just more than proved that. “Sure—until they flame out.”

She stood again and spread her hands wide. “The point is, Clint, five years ago I was starry-eyed as could be. I thought if I met Barry halfway and only got pregnant once, he’d meet
me
halfway and love the baby—or, as it turned out, all three of our children—as much as I did.” Suddenly, her voice caught. “Unfortunately, Barry couldn’t change any more than I could. So we never got our happily-ever-after, and the disappointment of it all was enough to make me forever cautious.”

“Which is why your attempt to date again didn’t work out,” he surmised, sensing how devastated she had felt during her marriage and subsequent divorce.
The impact her ex’s desertion must have had on her.
“Because you weren’t really sure you wanted to put yourself back out there, and be that vulnerable again, in the first place.”

She shook her head in a way that let him know he wasn’t quite right. “It takes time and energy and commitment to build a relationship that will endure. Realistically, I don’t have that, and won’t until my kids are grown.” Clamping her arms in front of her as if warding off a sudden chill, she blurted, “And I don’t want to be pressured or made to feel guilty for what I can or cannot give.”

Clint could understand that. He moved closer, his heart filling with a depth of feeling he didn’t expect.

“And now the situation is reversed,” she said, a mixture of sorrow and discouragement lacing her low tone. “You’re the one looking to get married and settle down and have kids.” She paused to look him in the eye with the kindness and compassion he had come to expect from her.

She took his hand, squeezed it briefly. “And you deserve to have that—and the big, all-encompassing love that goes hand in hand with every successful marriage, and serves as the solid foundation for every happy family.”

Clint’s lips twisted ruefully. Well, at least she got that much about him, he thought.

She released his hand and pivoted toward the steps.

He followed her to her pickup truck. Watched as she unlocked it and tossed her handbag inside. “What about you? Shouldn’t you have all that, too?” he asked huskily.

Rose climbed into the driver’s seat. One arm resting on the steering wheel, she turned to face him. “Minus the spouse, I’m already there. At least as much as my previous mistakes will allow.” She reached for her shoulder harness, dragged it across the soft swell of her breasts and clasped the buckle. “I have my kids. My business, my home. And most of all, my independence. Because...” She turned the key in the ignition, and the motor started with a purr. “If there was one thing my brief foray into dating showed me, it’s that I don’t want to get married again.”

He studied the just-made-love glow about her, knowing he emanated the same. Which made her swift change in mood all the more baffling. “Meaning what?” he asked.

“Meaning that as nice as making love with you was,” she said, looking deep into his eyes, “for both our sakes—yours especially—this can never happen again.”

* * *

I
T
HARDLY
SEEMED
POSSIBLE
, Rose noted with increasing frustration, but the second day of filming went worse than the first. Clint wore only pre-laundered garments this time, thanks to her timely intervention with the wardrobe person the evening before. But the day was overcast, and they were never able to get the light just right. Or make the berry picker look like a must-have piece of farm machinery as they wanted.

Most troubling of all was the crankiness of the star.

The usually affable Clint was grim and impatient more often than not. He had almost nothing to say to Rose. And on the rare occasions the director was able to get him to crack a smile, he looked like someone who’d been forced to pose for endless family photos when he had somewhere else he wanted to be.

Rose knew she was at least partially responsible for Clint’s bad mood, because of how things had ended between them last night. Truth to tell, she was feeling a little cranky and out of sorts, maybe even a little dejected, too.

She kept wondering if she’d made a mistake, calling it quits so hastily. Yet the pragmatic side of her, the side that didn’t want either of them to get hurt, knew she had done the prudent thing in protecting them both.

Not that Clint felt any gratitude to her, for that...

Worse, the actual berry picking was at a minimum. After two days of this, the vines were exploding with fruit that would soon go bad if they didn’t get it picked. Deciding something had to be done about that, Rose headed for the execs conversing next to the stretch limousine that had carried them all out to the ranch.

Instead of being irked by the interruption, they looked glad to see her.

Glances were exchanged all around.

Then Jeff strode toward her. “Rose!” He clapped a hand on her shoulder and brought her into the huddle. “Just the person we wanted to see!”

* * *

C
LINT
DIDN
’
T
KNOW
what was going on in the circle of conferencing executives, but whatever it was, Rose was now at the heart of it. Just as she had been from the beginning of this circus.

Vexed to find himself in the same situation that had ended his relationship with Reba, Clint headed for his pickup truck. Thank God he had other work to do—work he
wanted
to do—or he’d lose his mind.

He’d just reached the door when Rose caught up with him, looking determined and feisty as ever. “Got a minute?”

Clint struggled to control his temper. “I’ve got horses and cattle to see to.” All of which were currently parked at Gannon’s ranch, with the Bar M horses and cattle he was also caring for.

“I understand.”

Did she? Clint had to wonder. Because if she had any clue how much he hated the disruption to his normal routine, she never would have asked him to do all this.

“I just wanted to let you know the film crew won’t be back again until next Monday,” she continued.

Clint grimaced at her unchecked enthusiasm. “How is that good news?”

“It means you have a five-day reprieve.”

Past pretending he was okay with any of this, he shrugged. “Or a sword hanging over my head.”

She paused, looked away a long moment, then finally turned back to him, her remarkably cagey expression still giving him absolutely no clue what was really going on. “Would you like to come to my house for dinner this evening?”

Was this invitation connected to the recent confab beside the limousine? Or was it more personal, due to the fact she felt as aggravated as he did about them making hot, sexy, mind-blowing love and then going their separate ways?