Take Me Again (20 page)

The scream of a telephone ripped her out of the dreamy state that had embraced her. Was it his cell phone or hers? She looked around the room for a clock. It had to be close to eleven. A call this late meant an emergency.

"Fuck,” he moaned again but didn't move. “I'm sorry.” After two more rings, he released her pushing into a sitting position. Weaving his fingers through his hair, he got to his feet.

Moving to the side of the bed, she saw the red light of his telephone blinking against his belt. He picked up his jeans and silenced the telephone by flipping open the cover and pressing it to his ear.

"Crane.” Quietly he listened to the person on the other end. “Okay. Yeah. I'll be there in about twenty minutes.” He snapped the telephone closed and hung it on his belt. Peeling the condom off, he tossed it in the waste basket before using a tissue from atop the dresser to clean up. Without hesitating he reached for his jeans and pulled them over his legs and hips and fastened them.

She got to her feet. “I'll go with you?"

He cocked a brow. “In your sexy little dress? How do you think that'll look to Kevin Laski?"

"Dunguard?” She remembered the horse's bleeding condition.

Dolan nodded. “The man is a sonofabitch.” He pushed his arms through the sleeves of his shirt.

"I'll call Rowdy and see if he can pick me up and take me home."

"Stay here.” He slipped on his socks. “I'll try to get back as soon as I can."

"You and I both know you may be all night. I need to be in the office at eight tomorrow morning."

"This is all fucked up."

"No. It's the life both of us chose.” She eased into his arms and he kissed her quickly.

"Sorry I have to leave. I'll call Rowdy for you on the way out.” He flipped open his cell phone as he headed for the door.

"Thank you.” She doubted he heard her as he disappeared through the open door.

In seconds she was alone. She looked around the room. Across from the bed was a matching highboy. A dark green runner that matched the bed's comforter adorned the bureau. Atop the dresser was a picture of a woman and man holding a small boy—Dolan? His small arms were locked tightly around his father's neck. They looked so happy, the perfect family. On each side of the photograph were individual pictures of who she assumed were his mother and father.

Emotion dampened Tracy's eyes. There was so much in common between Dolan and Sheldon. Both had lost their parents at such a young age. She wrapped her arms around her naked shoulders as goose bumps rose across her skin. Would he see the resemblance? Would it make a difference? Mentally, she shook the thought away and went on a hunt for her dress.

The house was quiet as she drifted through the hall into the living room. Locating her dress on the floor, she picked it up and slithered into it, the soft material caressing her sensitive skin. She took a second to take in her surroundings as she spied her sandals and picked them up. He had made every attempt to make an empty shell of a house a home, from the blanket thrown across the sofa to the area rug before the fireplace. Even a rocking chair sat expectantly. Yet it still felt cold, almost unlived in.

Again sadness crept into her thoughts. Had his mother rocked him as a child? What had he been like?

Restlessly, she started to walk through the house, trying to find hints of his childhood. Other than the pictures of his parents in his bedroom, there were six pictures total of his uncle, Cord and Dolan, which apparently summed up his entire life. The fact there were no women's pictures both saddened and appeased her. No one had captured his heart enough for him to want to make a memory of their relationship.

Booted steps made her turn. Rowdy stood in the doorway of Dolan's living room with an expression she couldn't read. He didn't speak, just stared at her for longer then was comfortable.

Hand against the wall, she braced herself, slipping her feet in her sandals. “What?"

"You like him?” Of course, he referred to Dolan, but she pretended otherwise.

"Him?” she asked.

He stepped through the doorway into the room. “Do you really want to play this game?” There was something different in his solemn tone and expression that made her pause. She'd never seen a serious side of him before.

"Yes. I mean no games and yes I like him, but—” Damn. This was hard. She bit her bottom lip trying to find the words to express what she had to say. When Sheldon arrived the triangle between her, Dolan and Rowdy would have to end. Hell. Whatever was happening between her and Dolan would end as well. In reality she had to think about a more stable relationship, one that would offer Sheldon a home—a family—a father and mother.

She took a hard look at Rowdy. Was he the right man?

A frown darkened his expression as if he read her mind. “It's okay. I know I'm not the one for you."

Confusion narrowed her eyes. Was he breaking it off with her? How fucking ironic was that?

Even as a mocking laugh rose in her throat, so did a sense of failure and self-reproach. It made a direct hit to her heart. She swallowed, trying to push away thoughts of her ex-husband and broken marriage.

Damn. Why did this always happen?

He began to walk toward her and every tendon in her body grew taut. He stopped when he stood before her. Thankfully, he didn't try to touch her, but he did use the endearment he had called her ever since they'd met. “Baby, we've had fun together."

But?
she thought sarcastically, yet held her tongue. Instead her backbone stiffened, preparing for the next turn of the knife.

What the hell is wrong with you? This is the answer to your problem
.

True. Yet it didn't take away the shot to her ego.

This time he touched her face, tracing a finger along her jaw line. “Let's face it.” His smile didn't reach his eyes. In fact, she could swear she saw pain. “We don't have the heat that exists between you and Dolan."

Was it that obvious?

"Rowdy, it's just sex.” She found herself saying but not believing and neither did he.

He cocked a brow. “Any fool can see the chemistry between the two of you. You'd have to be blind not to see you mean more to him than a quick fuck. I know Dolan. We've shared women before, but you're different. Hell. He actually growled at me when I attempted to kiss you the last time we were together."

Now that he mentioned it, Dolan had seemed agitated. Tracy had chalked it up to the fact he had several more appointments that afternoon. But as she thought more about it he had become possessive and demanding.

Cait's earlier comment touched Tracy's mind. “
But once they settle down it's for good. They're one-woman men
."

Dolan had asked her to move in with him. Could that mean—

The glimmer of hope she allowed herself to feel vanished when a shadow crept across Rowdy's face.

"It's time for me to move on.” As if he suddenly became aware of his melancholy he flashed a grin that appeared a little too tight to be believable, and then he winked. “Let me take you home before I change my mind."

He tried to grasp her hand, but she pulled away. “What if he doesn't want me?” Insecurities rushed in to meet her. Rowdy was walking away. What if Dolan did the same?

As tears surfaced, Rowdy hauled her into his arms. Comfort surrounded her as it always did when he attempted to ease her mind.

"Baby, he'd be an idiot not to love you."

She prayed he was right. “What about us?” she asked. “Will we still be friends, even if Dolan doesn't—?” She choked on the thought, unable to complete her sentence.

"I'll always be here for you,” he promised, giving her a little squeeze. “Who knows, maybe some day I'll find a woman—” He stopped abruptly. “C'mon, let me take you home."

"Rowdy, is everything okay?"

He gifted her with one of his fabulous smiles. “Of course."

As he ushered her out the door, Tracy knew he wasn't all right. Was it a woman?

"Rowdy?"

"Hmmm?"

"I'll always be here for you, too, if you ever want to talk."

He stopped, pulling her into his arms. She felt him tense. Heard the breath he sucked in. Pressing his lips to her forehead, he whispered, “Thank you.” Then as quickly as he had embraced her he released her, opened the truck door, and she slid inside. She watched as he walked around the vehicle and got in, refusing to look at her as he started the engine.

As he pulled out of Dolan's driveway, Tracy knew there was more to Rowdy then what he allowed others to see. Would she ever really know him?

Maybe—maybe not.

[Back to Table of Contents]

The weekend had been as chaotic as the first three days of the week. Tracy opened the supply room door and slipped inside, the door closing behind her. Dolan's schedule had been complicated by a conference, which meant she had picked up the slack. She stared at the rows of supplies on the metal shelves. Everything seemed to have a place, except for what she was looking for. Gauze pads. She ran her gaze along the top shelf.

The work this past week had been invigorating and rewarding. She dropped her gaze to the second row of shelves. “Syringes, cotton balls...” Her mind drifted as she continued to list the supplies in her head instead of out loud.

Dolan had been right. The staff was wonderful to work with. Dr. Zimmerman was a wealth of knowledge. She had met so many influential people. Some were receptive to a female vet—some not.

But she wouldn't give up.

Her gaze dropped to the final row and began to scan it.

The only real problem about this last week—she had missed Dolan something terrible. The nights he hadn't called left her fidgety and on edge. Of course there was that other issue. Sheldon. The opportunity to speak to him about her nephew never seemed to present itself. At least she felt good about the caregiver she had hired.

She pivoted around and spied several boxes in the corner. As she headed toward them, she pondered how comfortable she felt with the mother of two. Mandy's children were around Sheldon's age. Plus she provided an activity schedule that met with Tracy's approval. The location was convenient, within several blocks of the office. She would be able to take Sheldon to lunch from time to time.

Leaning over a box, she ripped the tape off. Rummaging through the contents, she nearly jumped out of her skin when someone slid behind her and pressed against her ass. Strong hands gripped her hips, held her close so that she could feel that “someone” was all male. Relief flittered through her. She hadn't seen Dolan since she arrived at the office this morning.

There was so much she wanted—needed to say to him. Sheldon would be arriving Saturday and she had to find out what that meant to their relationship. But for now, she wanted to feel his arms around her.

Easing back into him as she stood, she asked, “So how was the conference—” Her voice froze as she inhaled a clean woodsy scent. Everything inside her screamed,
Oh God. No
. The familiar cologne told her immediately who held her and it wasn't Dolan. Looking over her shoulder, she was greeted with a smirk stretched across Zach's smug face.

The damn man had the nerve to smooth his palms to her waist, holding her immobile when she tried to step away. “Expecting someone else, Dr. Marx?” His arms folded around her waist, pulling her nearer. His peppermint breath brushed her neck, sending chills across her skin.

Dammit. This could only happen to her. Would he tell his father about her and Dolan? “Mr. Zimmerman—"

"Zach.” He caressed her cheek with his. “Call me Zach."

"Mr. Zimmerman, this is inappropriate.” Her heart raced a mile a minute as she stood perfectly still, unsure of how to break from his hold without making a scene. “Please release me.” Her voice trembled, giving away her nervousness.

"You don't really want me to let you go? Now do you?” His tone was mocking. Something warm and wet against her skin made her struggle. “Hush, doll.” He licked a path up her neck.

"Stop this minute,” she demanded, but was thrown off guard when he turned her in his arms. She struggled to catch her footing, giving him the opportunity to pull her to him.

He was stronger, controlling her as she slammed against his chest, close enough that their noses were a breath away. “Clearly you haven't asked the same of Crane."

What the fuck? His words lit the fuse to her anger. Who the hell did he think he was?

"Get your hands off me.” This time her voice held all the fury his comment conjured. Instead of letting her go he lowered his head, pressing his mouth to hers.

A moment of shock held her in its steely grip. Before she could draw back her hand and slap the shit out of the asshole, the door flew open.

Dolan stood like an avenging angel in the doorway. Rage burned in his eyes. The red-hot glare he pinned on Zach was enough to melt iron.

Yet Zach appeared unruffled. The sonofabitch smiled. Hugging her closer like a lover, he said “Joining us?” A whimper of distress surfaced as she pressed her palms on his shoulders and shoved, but he held her tightly. “I bet you've discovered how much our little doctor enjoys threesomes.” He snuggled against her neck. “Don't you, honey?"

Dolan jerked his hot stare to her. Denial stuck in her throat. She felt her eyelids widen in disbelief as his accusing stare struck her like arrows to the heart. She gasped.

He believed Zach?

Before she could find her voice, he turned his back on her, and the door closed behind him. She didn't even get the opportunity to explain. Resentment and outrage hit her at the same time another pang in her chest resulted.

"That's Crane.” Zach's insulting tone had returned. “Love ‘em and leave ‘em.” He paused briefly. “Ahhh ... Did you think you'd be different?” He looked into her misty eyes. “You did. Well, I'm here now.” He lowered his head, aiming for her lips, as she thrust her knee upward.

Blood drained from his face. His painful groan revealed she had hit her mark. His body jerked as he released her. Hugging his family jewels, his knees buckled before he crumbled like a day-old cookie to the floor.