Mad About You (40 page)

Bailey... the man already owned everything of hers that mattered—her heart and soul. Why not take her son too?

A fantasy began to take shape, and for a few uninhibited seconds Virginia allowed herself to picture the three of them together as a family. Not an I'll-take-him-for-weekends-and-you-get-him-for-the-summer kind of family, but an honest-to-goodness have-dinner-together and go-to-the-Grand-Canyon kind of family. She sighed. Did such an animal exist anymore?

She looked at Bailey's laughing profile, her temperature rising with the knowledge that if she had made love with him in Fort Lauderdale, they would now most likely be engaging in an affair—enjoying every moment with their son while anticipating the time they would
lie
down together. Bailey had been a wonderful lover, the first man to introduce her to the finer textures of sex. Even while she was pregnant, they'd spent hours—

"Ginny, I’m getting eaten alive."

"Hmmm?" she murmured at his words, momentarily suspended between her fading fantasies and the present moment.

"Mosquitos," Bailey asserted, smacking the back of his neck. "They're eating me alive under these lights."

"Me too," Chad grumbled, leaning over to scratch his ankle.

Virginia rose and swatted at her own skin and headed for the door, the guys right behind her. Inside the kitchen, she stopped and surveyed the dirty dishes.

"We'll help," Bailey said immediately.

Chad wrinkled his nose and Virginia laughed. "Don't worry, I don't think there's room in here for all three of us."

"Then I'll help," Bailey clarified, reaching for the frilly half-apron she'd left draped over a barstool. Meant to be worn around the waist, he tied it underneath his arms, the ruffled hem barely brushing the waistband of his jeans. She and Chad both burst out laughing.

"I'm getting outta here," Chad said, backing out of the room.

"Find us something to watch on TV," Bailey said, then added with raised eyebrows, "and make sure it's G-rated."

Chad saluted, then bounded away.

Still smiling, Virginia slipped on a second apron and began loading the dishwasher as Bailey handed rinsed dishes to her. In the end there were only a few items that needed to be hand washed, so she ran a sink half full of suds and scrubbed while he waited patiently, holding a dish towel to dry with. He looked so comical, she started giggling again.

"What?" he asked, his eyes wide.

She shook her head. "You."

"I used to help you with the dishes all the time."

"You're right," she admitted, scrubbing harder, trying desperately to erase the chain of good memories that
had surfaced.

He snapped his fingers. "Except we always had music." He turned on the radio on the counter and tuned in a classic country music station. Don Williams crooned from the speakers and Bailey nodded in satisfaction. "Perfect. Remember this one?"

Virginia swallowed, the hair on the back of her neck tingling. "No," she lied. "I haven't listened to country music in years."
That
at least was the truth.

He leaned on the sink, too close for comfort. "The old stuff is still the best," he said huskily. "The fads come and go, but the classics—the originals—those are the ones you remember late at night." His eyes glinted with desire.

Hoping the hot water would explain away the heat she felt climbing her neck, Virginia's mind whirled for a suitable wet blanket to douse the flame between them. When she found her voice, she forced a light tone. "Who are you calling old?"

Too late, she realized her banter only fueled him.

He grinned wide. "Did I find a weak spot?"

"No," she said too quickly.

"Ginny." His voice was silken. He placed a finger under her chin and turned her face toward him. "If it's possible, you're even more beautiful now than the day I first laid eyes on you."

She felt helpless with her hands in the water. "Bailey, don't," she said softly. Pulling away from his hand, she dunked the clean pan in the rinse water.

"I can't help it, Ginny." He moved behind her to rest his chin on her shoulder. His sigh feathered the hair around her face, adhering it to her moist cheek. "You always drove me crazy—isn't Chad living proof of that? I couldn't keep my hands off
you...
I still can't." His arms encircled her waist, his hands pressing her back against him.

"Bailey," she whispered urgently, trying to move away from him, "that's enough." Her knees threatened to buckle if he didn't stop touching her. "Chad's in the next room."

"I can hang around until he goes to bed," he murmured into her ear, sending shivers dancing across her shoulders. He closed in to kiss her earlobe. "Please let me stay tonight, Ginny."

When he descended on the taut, sensitive cords of her neck with his tongue, she felt herself waver.

Chapter Ten

BAILEY KNEW SHE WAS WAVERING, could feel her teetering on the brink. He continued to probe and nibble on her neck, remembering well what it did to her, and feeling the full effect on his own straining body.

"Hey, Bailey," came Chad's muffled voice from the living room. "You gotta see this!"

Ginny's neck stiffened beneath his mouth.

He stepped back with a frustrated groan and leaned against the kitchen bar. "Be right there, buddy!"

She turned around, wiping her hands on a towel, the color high in her cheeks. "We have to try to be a good example, you know," she said, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

He dragged his gaze from her breasts and glanced down at his telltale arousal. Reaching around and jerking free the knot between his shoulder blades, he then lowered the apron and retied it around his waist, the dainty flowered fabric effectively covering him.

As he left the kitchen, he heard Ginny laughing. He smiled wryly to himself. At least she wasn't angry—he was still in the running.

Chad was sitting cross-legged on the floor in semi-darkness, watching a sports documentary on legendary stadiums. "This is cool!" he said, grinning up at Bailey.

Bailey nodded his enthusiastic agreement, then sat on the edge of the couch to watch with his son. Ginny joined them in a few minutes, giving him a warning glance, then sitting a few inches away from him on the deep, comfy sofa.

"When can we go back to Shenoway?" Chad asked a few minutes later.

Bailey's heart lurched, hoping his son would keep his pact about not telling Ginny of his plans. Looking at Ginny, he asked, "Got any plans for Saturday?"

She shook her head.

"Then Saturday it is—I have a few chores to do around the farm, then we'll take a picnic down by the swimming hole."

"Can we go horseback riding?" Chad asked.

Bailey nodded. "In fact, Rita, Jerry, and Jean Ann will be out of town for a wedding, and I promised to stay overnight to keep an eye on things. I sure would like some company."

"Yaaaaay!" Chad cheered.

"I don't know..." Ginny hesitated, and he guessed at what she might be thinking.

He lowered his voice. "There are plenty of bedrooms, Ginny. Come on—don't you want to teach him to ride?"

"Well...
all right.
"

Relieved, Bailey settled into the sofa cushions. Wincing, he massaged a knot of tension between his neck and shoulder. He was a bundle of tense, hormone-laced muscles, a walking wad of pent-up frustration and longing. He glanced over at her profile. A man shackled within view of the finish line.

His gaze traveled down to where her buttoned blouse gapped open. Wetting his lips, he angled for a better look. The lacy top of a pink bra beckoned to him, and he itched to touch it, his fingers curling against his palm. Bailey put his head back and closed his eyes, cursing silently. He wouldn't be getting rid of the apron anytime soon.

His next conscious moment was Chad shaking him awake. "Bailey," he whispered, "I'm going to bed."

"Huh?" Bailey sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"It's late and I'm going to bed. You both fell asleep."

He looked over and saw Ginny was sleeping on the other two-thirds of the couch, her head on the armrest, her arms crossed and her feet tucked up to her rear end, compactly nestled into the space. "What time is it?"

"Around midnight."

Bailey yawned. "Okay, you're going out with Ginny's folks tomorrow night, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'll see you Saturday morning."

"Won't you be here in the morning?" Chad asked.

Bailey took in Ginny's sleeping form, all closed up and inaccessible, and the firm set of her chin, even in her sleep. He frowned. "Don't count on it."

"Okay, see you Saturday."

Chad loped out of the room and Bailey listened as he climbed the stairs, then closed his bedroom door. Yawning widely, he rubbed his knuckles over his face, then stood up for an all-body stretch. Reluctantly, he leaned over to shake Ginny awake, then changed his mind in a split second.

The couch felt too good, and Ginny looked too good. He removed his boots and belt, then stripped off his shirt. He had no intention of making love to Ginny while she slept, but he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to snuggle with her all night. He lowered himself behind her onto the couch, easing in little by little, nudging her body forward. She moaned and murmured incoherently, but eventually lay spooned in his embrace.

He punched down the pillow lightly, but skipped his customary habit of turning over to find the sweet spot. He reached up and carefully unclasped her hair, then buried his nose in its silkiness and inhaled her scent. Pulling her as close to him as he dared, he lay his hand on her stomach and sighed into her ear. She wriggled against him, and he felt his love for her swell in his heart.

Ginny was the sweet spot.

* * *

Virginia blinked and winced. Her neck hurt, her back hurt, her—

She jolted wide awake, realizing where she slept and who was snoring softly in her ear. She remembered lying down, thinking she'd doze until Chad's television show ended. And she distinctly remembered
not
entwining her body with Bailey's before lying down. His legs were wrapped around hers, and his bare, muscled arm lay across her waist. She swallowed. Oh, God, was he naked?

She glanced down, glad to see in the breaking morning light that she was still fully clothed, and that he at least was wearing jeans. She moved gingerly, but at the first sign of withdrawing from him, he responded by tightening his grip on her.

Struggling harder, she hissed, "Bailey, wake up. It's morning."

"Mmmmph," he murmured in her ear, sending goose bumps down her arms.

"Wake up—you have to go to work."

"No," he whispered sleepily. "I have to stay right here."

"Let me up!"

"Stay with me," he urged, pulling her closer and rubbing his arousal against her behind.

Longing knifed through her, and she yielded to her impulse, rolling her neck and arching her back, pressing into him. He groaned into her hair, then reached around to cup her breast through her thin shirt. Desire bolted through her, and she reached behind her to massage the smooth skin of his back.

"Ginny," he whispered huskily, "you make me crazy with wanting you." He devoured her neck, sending miniature convulsions through her body. Her nipple hardened beneath his hand, and he ground his hips against her.

Reality seeped into the fog of her rapture, and she stiffened slightly. "Bailey," she whispered hoarsely, "Chad could walk down those stairs any minute."

Bailey sighed, clearly frustrated. "And what would he see? His mother and father lying together on the couch." He resumed his ministrations on her neck.

She laid her head back, easing into him a little more. "It's gone a little beyond lying together, don't you think?"

"Let's go to your bedroom," he whispered urgently, nipping the top of her shoulder.

"He'll know," she insisted, still moving against him.

He planted a kiss just below her ear, his breath coming in short gasps. "Relax, Ginny. Nothing would make him happier than for us all to be together."

At his words, Virginia pulled away from his embrace and swung her feet to the floor.

He groaned his disapproval and shifted to his back, throwing an arm over his brow. "What did I say?"

She pushed to her feet and looked down at her ex-husband, her mind spinning with indecision.

Impressive—that was the word that came to mind as she scanned his half-naked body. His dark hair, almost blue in its intensity, fell against the light-colored cushion. His arm covered his eyes, but his mouth was soft with drowsiness, his chin darkened with morning beard. Spanning the width of the couch, his shoulders were gloriously muscled and tanned, his chest matted with dark, springy hair that extended from throat to flat navel.
And beyond,
she remembered, unable to miss the hard ridge of his arousal through his jeans.

"Ginny." He sat up and raked his fingers through his hair. "Talk to me."

She sighed and rubbed her throbbing temple. "If Chad wants us to be together, it's only because it would mean he could be with you all the time."

"You'll grow closer in time, Ginny, I know you will."

"Maybe we will," she admitted, "but what happens if you and I play house for a while and things don't work out between us? We'd be harming him even more if we split up again. You said yourself, Bailey, that commitment isn't your strong suit."

He sighed. "I know, but I'm working on it."

She scoffed, anger flaring through her. "What the hell does that mean"—she raised her arms—"you're
working
on it?"