What Price Paradise (26 page)

The waitress stopped at their table again. “You folks ready to order now?”

“Yes,” Tate said, his gaze still holding Abby’s. “I want at least four kids. Doesn’t matter what flavor.”

His voice sounded normal, but Abby didn’t miss the trace of desperation in his eyes. Was that other Tate, the one who’d sought her out and gotten her pregnant, now afraid he might be losing the battle? Was his comment a last-ditch effort to hang on to her?

Debby propped her hands on her hips. “Sorry, shug, but we’re fresh out. Will hamburgers and fries work?”

“For now, Deb.”

“On their way.” She left again.

Abby felt like her heart was breaking. “Did you really mean that?”

Tate picked up her hand and kissed it. “Would you mind?”

“No,” she whispered, fighting the words she really wanted to say. “I don’t mind at all. Four sounds like a nice round number.”

Where was Joe when she needed him? She certainly could have used a few words of wisdom right now. How did you wage a battle for a man’s spirit when the man himself wasn’t sure he wanted you to win?

She watched Tate from the corner of her eye. His face still looked strained and worried.
Oh, Tate
, she thought.
Will you be able to see what you’re doing to yourself, to us, before it’s too late?

At that moment she could have hated Tate’s father, in spite of Joe’s avowal that he was a good man. If not for his teachings, Tate wouldn’t be suffering such agonies now. And he was suffering. His perceived responsibilities to both her and Diane were tearing him in half.

Abby stared at the food the waitress slid in front of her and gave a tiny sigh. She’d always been a pretty good seamstress. Maybe with a little luck and a lot of hard work she could mend each rip to Tate’s soul before the damage became permanent.

Tate wiped a forearm across his sweat-covered brow and leaned on the window sill, careful not to let the paint roller touch the frame. He and Buddy had spent most of the morning moving things from the sewing room into the attic and he’d been painting ever since. The walls were done now, the soft eggshell white gleaming in the late afternoon sun that poured into the room. It was going to make a wonderful nursery for the baby.

A burst of laughter caught his attention and he looked down into the backyard. The laughter was what had drawn him to the window in the first place. Abby’s laughter. For some reason she had decided to give Dog a bath. Dog, apparently, had other ideas on the subject.

At the moment, he sat in the tin tub she’d filled with water, a disgusted look on his shaggy face. A pile of bubbles adorned the end of his nose. Abby had managed to get him soaped down by holding him with one hand. Now she made the mistake of letting go while she reached for the hose.

Dog was out of the tub like a bullet, slinging water all over the yard. Abby let out a little cry, then threw both arms over her face as Dog paused long enough to shake. The tremor started at his nose and traveled all the way to the tip of his tail, covering Abby with soapy water in the process.

Then he was off again, running across the yard like a race horse. When he reached the far side, he made a U-turn and headed back, his tongue hanging out as he circled Abby at a safe distance, still at top speed.

Stupid dog thought she was playing with him. Maybe she was, Tate mused, watching as she leaned over and tried to coax the animal closer. Her voice drifted through the window.

“Come on, Dog. That’s a good boy. Just a little bit more. You’re gonna look so pretty,” she crooned. “And smell good, too.”

Dog stopped just out of reach, his front half stretched out on the ground, his rear up in the air. His tail was going ninety miles an hour as he issued an excited bark.

“Now, you just stay right there.” Abby edged a step closer, her hand extended. “You’re such a good dog.” She lunged, but Dog saw her coming and dodged out of the way. Abby wound up face-down in a puddle of water.

A tickle of anxiety ran through Tate, then eased as he realized she was laughing again. Dog decided this was a new aspect to the game and pounced on her, doing his best to lick her face.

Giggling uncontrollably, she turned her head to one side, both fists buried in the dog’s coat as she held him off. “I’ve got you now, you rascal. And this time, I’m not letting go.”

Tate sucked in a deep breath as she reached for the hose again. The thin, white cotton blouse she had on was soaked. It clung to her like a second skin, exposing her breasts to the point where he could see the darkened nipples pushing against the fabric.

He shifted uncomfortably, his sudden erection pushing painfully against his zipper. His mouth literally watered at his need to taste those dark mounds. They had only made love once since the day Diane had shown up at the cafe and that had been a week ago. Abby had been the one who instigated that one time, he now realized.

What was wrong with him? For almost three weeks after he found out Diane had gotten married, she’d never once crossed his mind. Now she appeared to have taken up permanent residence. He constantly saw her face as she told him she was afraid of Clayton. The man wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t really hurt her, would he? Clayton might be slick, but he’d never struck Tate as the violent type.

He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He had to stop this, had to get Diane out of his mind. Maybe he should call her. Just to make sure she was okay. Then he could stop thinking about it all the time.

Another burst of laughter from the back yard distracted him. Abby was trying to rinse the soap from Dog, and every other second the animal was doing his shimmy routine to shake the moisture off.

A faint smile curved Tate’s lips at their antics. It did look like they were having fun. He glanced at the paint roller in his hand. Maybe he should wash it out before the paint dried. He could always call Diane later if he decided to do it.

Abby looked up as he stepped out onto the back porch, her dimples prominent as she grinned at him. “All finished?”

“For now. Still have to put up the border after the paint dries.”

“Looks like you got more paint on yourself than you did the walls. That should probably be washed off before it sets.”

Her words should have warned him, but the spray of icy water that hit his chest had him gasping in surprise. Damn, it was cold!

Abby was bent double laughing when he started toward her, but she straightened in a hurry at the intent look on his face.

“Now, Tate. It was just a joke.”

“One I plan on getting even for.”

“Oh yeah?” She put her hands on her hips, her tone belligerent. “How do you plan on doing that when I’ve got the hose?”

“Like this.” He lunged at her just as she turned the water on him again. He ignored the spray, grabbing her around the waist and hanging on for dear life.

She squealed and tried to twist away from him, but his grip was too tight. With one quick movement, he ran the paint roller down her face.

Abby’s mouth dropped open, paint and water dripping from her eyelashes when she blinked. “I don’t believe you did that.”

It was Tate’s turn to collapse in laughter at the expression on her face.

“I’m gonna get you for that, McCullom.”

He barely had time to catch her as she tackled him. They went over backwards, landing with a squishy splat in the mud created from Dog’s bath.

Tate’s laughter ebbed as Abby’s weight pressed into him, then died completely as her mouth touched his. His reaction was instantaneous. With his hands fisted in her hair, he lifted his head off the ground, kissing her ravenously, savagely hungry for the taste of her.

A desperate groan escaped his throat. “Abby, I need you. I need you now. I can’t wait.”

Frantic for the feel of her bare skin, he stripped her clothes off, barely getting his own pants undone before he lifted her, held her, then plunged into her welcoming depths.

That was all it took. Tate’s head went back, his eyes squeezed shut, teeth tightly clenched as his body arched and flew into a million pieces. Trembling in reaction, his tightened muscles went limp, his hands still moving over Abby’s bare back.

Suddenly she started shaking, and Tate opened his eyes in concern. She was laughing! A smile turned up the corners of his lips. “What’s so funny?”

“Tate,” she sputtered. “We’re in a mud hole!”

His grin widened. “You know, it’s always been one of my fantasies to make love in the mud.” He looked at her speculatively. “There’s only one thing wrong.”

“What’s that?”

“In my fantasies, I was always on top.” He twisted rapidly, pinning her arms above her head, and began to move slowly inside her. “Much better,” he whispered against her lips. “Do you know how much I love to hear you scream when you climax? To know I’m the one who makes you feel that way? It’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.” His movements increased as her eyes closed and a soft whimper sounded deep in her throat.

“Tate,” she moaned. “That feels so good.”

“No,” he murmured. “It’s better than good. No one has ever made me feel the way you do.” His tongue flicked a nipple as he drove into her. “Scream for me, Abby. I need to hear you scream.”

She complied. With her body convulsing around him and the music of her climax in his ears, Tate let his own control slip a second time. With her name on his lips, he followed her into oblivion.

* * * * *

Abby leaned back against Tate as his arms circled her, his hands sliding up under her blouse to her breasts. “If you don’t stop that, I’m never going to get supper ready.”

“Some things are just more important than food.” He continued to caress her. “You know, I think they’re getting bigger.”

Abby grinned. “I sure hope so. I get tired of people thinking I’m a boy.”

His lips trailed down her neck. “Oh, believe me. There’s nothing about you that even faintly resembles a boy.” He lifted his head. “Wonder if Buddy would think it was strange if I kept a mud hole handy in the back yard?”

She looked at him wryly. “I don’t know about Buddy, but even after a shower, I’m still picking dirt out of places I don’t want to think about.”

Tate laughed and let go of her. “I’ll help you find it all later.”

Buddy clattered down the stairs and stopped in the kitchen door. “Don’t fix any supper for me, Abby.”

Tate arched an eyebrow. “You going out again?”

“You don’t have to sound so hopeful, Tate. I’ve only been home thirty minutes.” The teenager grinned at him.

“Where are you going?” Tate turned a chair around and straddled it, propping his arms across the back.

Abby’s gaze ran up his long legs to his narrow hips, then on up to his broad shoulders. The position he was in had his clothes pulled tight enough to expose every muscle. Lord, but the man was built. All she had to do was look at him and heat washed through her, no matter how often they made love.

“I’ve got a date.” Buddy cleared his throat. “I don’t suppose I could talk you into extending curfew a little, could I?”

“So you can go to the Point and park?”

“Aw, geesh, Tate. Come on.” His face was tinted bright red.

“One hour. Not a minute longer.”

“Thanks, Tate!”

As soon as the teenager left, Abby grinned at Tate. “You did that on purpose.”

He leered at her. “Damn right I did. One more hour alone. You know what I can accomplish in an hour?”

“I can’t wait to find out.”

* * * * *

He could accomplish a lot, Abby discovered. Repeatedly and in quite a few rooms. His imagination knew no bounds. She was still turning red thinking about what he’d done to her in the kitchen. And on the counter, no less. She’d never look at that countertop the same again.

At the moment, they were stretched out side by side on the couch, bodies comfortingly pressed together. She felt so safe with his arms around her. Unwilling to break the quiet, Abby curled a strand of his hair around her finger, admiring the shiny black luster as much as the sensual feel of it.

“Buddy will be home soon.”

“I know,” she murmured.

“We should probably get up.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I hate to move.”

Abby sighed. “So do I, but I guess we’d better.” She rolled away from him and stood, pausing a moment to survey his nude body. Suddenly she smiled and leaned down to poke one finger into his thigh.

“I was right.”

Tate was looking at her in puzzlement. “About what?”

“You know the first day I was here and we went to get my things? During the whole trip I kept wondering if your thighs were as hard as they looked.”

He laughed. “I can top that one. Do you remember my reaction when I saw your sheets?”

Abby felt heat creep up her cheeks. “Yes. It upset you.”

“Upset me, hell. I had to run to keep from dragging you into that bed.” He drew a finger slowly down her stomach. “I wanted you so much it was about to kill me.”

“You were certainly doing a good job of hiding it.”

His grin turned wicked. “Why do you think I grabbed that box of clothes so fast? I needed it to conceal the evidence.”