Blackbird Lake (21 page)

Protecting Emma had to be her priority. Not to mention
protecting herself. Being around Jake Tanner could do strange things to a woman. Make her light-headed. Unsettled. Yearning for things she couldn’t have.

Like one more night in bed with him.

Not going to happen,
she told herself fiercely.

“I need time to think everything through,” she heard herself say carefully. “I can’t let Emma be hurt—”

“I’d never do that. You don’t need to protect her from me, Carly. Or try to keep me out of her life. I have a right to be part of it—and I intend to be. Seriously, what kind of a jerk do you think I am? I’d never neglect or hurt her. That’s a promise.”

“I know you wouldn’t do it on purpose.”

“Not any which way.”

He sounded so sure. She felt tiny holes cracking in all her defenses. It hit her full-on in that moment that Jake wasn’t anything like Kevin. He wasn’t a liar, a cheat, or prone to smashing the nearest thing at hand when life didn’t go his way.

Jake was a wanderer, yes, but he came from a family that cherished their connections to each other. And he was promising to be around for Emma. Maybe not all the time, but maybe enough…enough so that she’d know she had a father who loved her. That she’d have him in her corner, too, as well as her mother.

Life could be hard. Carly of all people knew that. Emma should have all the love and support she could get in this world. She deserved that.

She gulped, realizing suddenly that she had no choice. She had to trust him. At least a little, enough to give him a chance.

“Okay. We’ll try.” She swallowed. “We’ll try to be friends.”

“What are the odds you could add in the smallest trace of conviction there?” His lips quirked up in a dazzling smile.

Oh, it wasn’t easy to resist that smile. Warmth curled in her belly. “Trust me, I’m working on it,” she said as lightly as she could.

Still his strong hands lingered at her waist.

It wasn’t a conscious decision to inch closer to him, but somehow she did just that. Her breasts were pressed right up against his chest, and his mouth was close enough that if he just leaned down and forward ever so slightly…

Jake watched her eyes, wide and cautious as she looked at him. She hadn’t tensed or pulled away, though, and her body felt soft and willing and inviting as hell.
God, she’s lovely,
Jake thought.

She was so damned sexy, in a mouthwateringly tempting kind of way, and at the same time there was something soft and fragile about her, something that tore at a place in him he hadn’t known still existed. Not since Melanie…

But Melanie had been scared, vulnerable. And Carly…

Beneath that fragile, girl-next-door beauty, Jake sensed tremendous strength at Carly’s core.

A kind of fierce resolution that could only come from bravery. She was completely, ferociously devoted to her daughter.
Their
daughter. He reminded himself that he needed to be concentrating only on Emma as well.

He and Carly could be partners in raising her, nothing more. This whole situation was already complicated enough. He couldn’t do anything that would make it more so….

But it felt so damned good to touch her.

Don’t go there, man. Don’t even think for a second about going there.

Yet, when an even colder gust of wind suddenly rattled down from the Crazies, his arms seemed to draw her protectively closer of their own accord. Then—despite his better judgment—he did something impulsive.

He lowered his head and kissed her.

It wasn’t meant to be a long kiss. But her lips were even softer, even sweeter tasting than he remembered. Like wildflowers and silk and sunshine. To his surprise, he couldn’t pull back from the kiss, and his mouth lingered on hers for a long time.

Apparently she didn’t have any objections, Jake realized, because her lips parted responsively as she kissed him back. They were the softest lips—as sweet, as decadent as
candy. He almost groaned at the deliciousness of her, at the brush of her soft curves against his body.

Heat roared through him when he heard her soft mew of pleasure. And every muscle in his body tightened. He deepened the kiss still further, sliding his fingers through her thick, fiery curls, encouraged by another little moan of pleasure.

God, he knew he shouldn’t touch her. Or kiss her. But she was in his arms, warm and soft and close, and something about her seemed to pull him in….

Then as a twig snapped overhead, he felt her stiffen suddenly and pull back against his grip.

“Oh, God, Jake. No.” Her voice was a stricken gasp. “What are we
doing
? We
can’t…
. I
won’t….”

She was right. He knew she was right. This could go south in too many ways to count unless they kept everything boiled down to a simple, businesslike friendship.

But there was nothing businesslike about that kiss. And nothing about it
felt
wrong. He had to bite back a groan as she yanked away from him, her cheeks flushed the pink of new roses, her eyes locked on his.

“This can’t happen. It
won’t.
” She sounded shaken and shook her head as the wind blew strands of bright curls across her cheeks. “We’re going to try to be friends and friends only. Things are complicated enough as they are.”

“Agreed.” Releasing her, Jake took a step back and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You’re one hundred percent right. Sorry about that. It won’t happen again.”

“It better not.” Her spine ramrod straight, as if she’d had no part in what had just happened between them and hadn’t enjoyed it in the least, she spun and started back toward the house with long, assertive strides. Jake watched, captivated by the sensuous sway of her hips as she walked away from him.

For a moment he couldn’t stop staring, but then he dragged his mind from all the things he’d love to do to her
, with
her, and concentrated on reality.

Focus, you damned fool. None of those things are going to happen. Not a single one.

Given their new arrangement—they were all off-limits.

“So,” he said after he easily caught up to her, then slowed, matching his longer stride to hers, “when do I get to spend time with Emma again? Do you have a girls’ night out coming up soon? I’ll babysit.”

“Brave man.” Carly’s heartbeat was finally returning to normal. So, she hoped, was her sanity. She only needed to stay a reasonable distance from Jake Tanner and she’d be
fine
. Absolutely
fine.
“Do you really think you’re ready to handle her and Bug all alone?”

“Sure. Piece of cake.”

“I hate to tell you this, but you have a lot to learn.”

“I’m a quick study. And very motivated.”

“My next night out is the auction,” she told him as they cleared the trees and his brother’s house came into sight. “I happen to need a babysitter for that night, if you think you’re up for it.”

“You mean the dating auction?” He frowned. “I heard something about that. You running the show or some-thing?”

“Hardly. I’ve been roped into auctioning myself off to the highest bidder.”

“You?” His eyes narrowed just a little. “I thought you said you didn’t date.”

“I don’t. I
didn’t
…but I couldn’t get out of this.” She shrugged. “Ava Todd doesn’t know how to take no for an answer. And besides, everyone I know is volunteering. Even Madison. Martha offered to stay with Emma that night if I really need her to babysit, but she’s helped Ava and Dorothy Winston plan the whole event. I know she’d love to be there and see how it comes off. I was planning to ask Ivy to babysit, but she’s been invited on a weekend trip with her friend Shannon Gordon’s family, so…”

There was a small, expectant silence just as they reached the deck. Through the sliding doors, Carly could see
Madison laughing as she played ring around the rosie with Emma, Molly, Aiden, and Zoey, all of their hands linked together as part of a circle.

Emma and her cousins.

She glanced over at Jake and saw he was watching them, too. Or it seemed like he was.

“How about if I hunt up another babysitter for Emma?” he suggested. “And I go to the auction instead. I’ll bid on you so you won’t have to go out with some strange yahoo who can’t get a date on his own.”

As she said nothing, just stared at him, he offered a shrug and a heart-melting smile. “I’m always happy to help a lady out of a tight spot.”

“I’m sure you are.” She tried to ignore the fact that her heart had just skipped a beat. Make that two beats.
Friends,
she told herself.
Only friends. That’s all you can handle.
“This lady will have to take her chances, because what I really need is a babysitter for my daughter.
Our
daughter,” she amended pointedly.

“Ouch. Then I guess that would be me.”

The smile had faded from his face. In the late afternoon light, as the sun slid west toward the mountains, he met her gaze, his expression serious.

“All kidding aside, I’ll be here for you,” he told her quietly. “Whenever I possibly can. All you have to do is ask.”

His steady tone made something squeeze tight inside her. Why did he have to be so nice? So naturally easy and low-key and—okay, she had to be honest here—so utterly sexy as only a strong, laid-back, ‘I can handle anything you toss at me’ cowboy could be. One or the other or both would be hard enough, but all of those qualities combined…

She fought the urge to fling her arms around those broad shoulders, to stretch up on tiptoe and kiss those casually smiling lips again.

She hadn’t kissed a man since the night Jake got her pregnant and here he was in her own backyard, so to speak—the only man she yearned to kiss. Just one more time.

But she couldn’t. Not now. Not ever.

They’d made a deal to be friends. Nothing more. She had to stick to that and set the tone. Obey the ground rules. For Emma’s sake. Or else things could go very wrong, and Jake might leave, and Emma…

Emma could end up devastated.

“Just remember when you get home that night”—Jake shoved open the sliding door on the deck for her and his lips quirked upward into a grin—“if the yahoo walks you up on the porch and makes some unwanted moves, I’ll be there, too. Within calling-out distance.”

“How would you possibly know if the moves are unwanted?”

“Easy. We’ll work out some prearranged hand signals.”

A huff of laughter escaped her, but she tried to make it sound like a cough. “You’ll have
your
hands full with Emma. I’ll fend for myself.”

And with the words she forced herself to offer him nothing more than a cool smile before she brushed past him and into the house.

“Well, what do you know.”

Surprise charged through Brady as he drank his beer in the cavelike darkness of the Spotted Pony.

The place was a dive. No doubt about that.

It was small and crowded and dark, with sticky wood-planked floors, all sorts of moose and deer antlers lining the paneled walls, a jukebox and a pool table that had seen better days—and not much else in the way of decoration.

But the music rocking the joint was a whole lot better than he’d ever expected.
They’re not bad,
he thought,
not bad at all. Actually, they’re damned good.

The Spotted Pony Bar and Grill perched on a cliff twenty miles outside of town, halfway up Eagle Mountain. Tonight it was packed to the rafters—which wasn’t saying much as it couldn’t hold more than fifty people, tops.

The air was thick with smoke and filled with the smells of spilled beer and whiskey, greasy burgers and fries, all mingled with cheap perfume and too much aftershave clinging to the various bikers and truckers and cowboys and their women who frequented the place.

Delia Craig and Eddie Chisholm sang their hearts out front and center on the small makeshift stage, belting out a vigorous cover of Shania Twain’s “You’re Still the One.” They sang with a gusto that had boots tapping and people humming along. Eddie was on fire with his guitar, and slightly behind them, Steve Tuck played the drums like nobody’s business. Even so, Brady found himself unable to keep from watching Madison. Though it was difficult to see her clearly, he could still make out her distinctive, richly spiraling voice singing backup. He couldn’t get a good glimpse of her face since she was tucked way in the back, farthest from the lights that glowed around Delia and Eddie.

It looked like she was wearing her usual dark sweatshirt and jeans, as if she were trying to be invisible, to blend into the darkness and dingy walls. But her voice, rich and low and as pure as a starry night, penetrated the darkness and made him stare.

She was better than good. Better even than Delia, who sang with verve and sass and power. Madison sang with soul. And heart. And the quiet grit of passion.

It was Delia with her long, swingy, honey-colored hair, bright tangerine lipstick, tight purple T-shirt, and snug jeans decorated with glitter who got all the hands clapping, the boots stamping, and the whistles, but it was Madison’s sultry voice that gave substance to the song, that added depth and range and a touch of irresistible sexy exuberance that made it soar.