Blame It On Texas (16 page)

He’d started up the car and was halfway out of the parking lot before she spoke again.

“Remember the time the sheriff almost caught us?” Kate asked, turning toward him with a wry smile on her face. “We hadn’t known the movie was over and everyone else had left.”

“He figured I was up to no good, all right.”

“I talked him out of arresting you and not telling my dad.”

“Your father would have come after me,” Dustin said.

“No, he wouldn’t,” she said. “I think he liked you. It was my mother we would have had to worry about.”

“She’s still someone I don’t want to tangle with,” he admitted, and Kate smiled at him.

“I know what you mean. She’s probably worried about us being together right now, in the middle of the night, without Jake and Elizabeth to chaperone.”

“I have an idea,” he said, stepping on the gas. “We’ll get breakfast, if you can wait another twenty or thirty minutes.”

“Sure, but why—”

“For old time’s sake,” he said. “And because I’m starving.” And also because he didn’t know when or how he would have the chance to be alone with her again. He didn’t want to think about making love to her, but there was something about Kate that made him think of nothing else. Maybe it was time to get it out of his system once and for all. And from all indications, Kate would agree.

“W
E’RE TRESPASSING
,” Kate whispered, holding the bag filled with fast-food breakfast items on her lap. The coffee, sitting in the cup holders, smelled delicious. She was suddenly ravenous, she realized as she peered out the window at the Good Night Villas construction site.

“You don’t have to whisper,” he said, guiding the car past the building toward the back of the property. “There’s no one around.”

That was true. She felt a little more at ease when Dustin found the spot off to the side in back, where the original parking area hadn’t been disturbed,
and shut off the car engine and lights. He switched the interior light on so Kate could distribute the food, but turned it off again when they had their breakfast sandwiches on their laps.

“This is very strange,” Kate said, after she’d eaten half of an egg- and cheese-filled croissant.

“Why?”

“You and me. Here. With our clothes on.”

“You can take your shirt off,” he offered, “if it would make you feel better.”

“No, thanks.” She hoped he was only joking. “We’ll just stay dressed and act like adults,” Kate said, though the temptation to toss the uneaten food back into the bag and climb into the back seat was certainly unsettling. “What would you have done if it was me who had gotten pregnant that summer instead of Lisa?”

Dustin choked on his English muffin egg sandwich, so Kate handed him a napkin and waited for him to catch his breath. “For cripe’s sake, Kate,” was all he could say, “what made you bring that up?”

“We’re sitting here at the scene of the crime, so to speak. It’s nine years later, and I want to know.”

“I would have married you, of course, if your parents didn’t kill me first.”

“Really?”

He frowned at her. “Well, of course. What kind of a question is that?”

She shrugged and took a sip of the coffee, which was pretty terrible stuff. “I’ve always wondered.”

“Yeah? What else have you wondered?”

“Why you had sex with her at the same time you were having sex with me.” There. She leaned back against the car door and watched him, wondering if he would give her the answer to the question that had bothered her for years. “I know that was a long time ago,” she added, not wanting him to think this was something she dwelt upon on a regular basis. “But this seems a good time and place to ask.”

“Yeah?” He set his coffee cup on the dashboard. “Nine years later seems like a good time to ask? Did you ever think of asking me any of this before you kicked me out of your life?”

She remembered that night all too well. She’d been hurt and embarrassed and miserable because she had fallen in love with him. He’d warned her beforehand. He’d said, “No strings, sweetheart.” And she’d foolishly believed she could make love to him without her heart getting broken. “No. I was too angry.”

“
You
were angry?” He stared at her, his gaze intense upon her face. She wanted to look away, but she didn’t. “Look, Kate, you asked me a question. I answered it. I didn’t grow up rich and pampered in a big house on Apple Street facing the park. I had a pretty crappy home life, Katie, but if
you were the one who’d gotten pregnant that summer I would have married you and done whatever I could to make you happy. Does
that
answer your question?”

“I guess it does.” She wished she could see Dustin’s face, but the interior of the car was fairly dark except for the dim glow of the construction site spotlights coming in through the back window. She reached her hand out to touch his arm.

He tugged her toward him. “There’s something about sitting in a car with you—”

“Do you think it’s an automobile fetish?”

“Definitely,” Dustin whispered. Their lips were almost touching, and then came the kind of kiss she remembered—and had tried to forget. Her arms looped around his neck and the half-eaten breakfast sandwich slid off Kate’s lap and onto the seat. He tasted of coffee when her tongue touched his when her lips parted to allow him entrance. She moved closer, not noticing that her knee squished an uneaten square of fried potatoes or her coffee was perilously close to tipping out of the cup holder. All Kate knew was she was kissing Dustin again, at the Good Night Drive-In, and all was right with her world.

His hands held her waist, then inched up under her blouse to smooth her skin. Oh, yes, Kate thought, murmuring a little sound of approval as his fingers touched her. He was still the best kisser
she’d ever known, with the most tantalizing long fingers and a way of moving his tongue that made her want to wrap her arms around his neck and hang on. And she did.

Kate didn’t know if she was eighteen or twenty-seven, if it was sunrise or sunset, if she was in Manhattan or Beauville. None of that mattered anyway. His hand was on her breast and his tongue tangled with hers and everything was as it should be. Familiar and yet so amazing and different, kissing Dustin brought back memories of hot sex and even hotter Texas nights.

“Damn bucket seats,” he muttered, after easing his mouth from hers.

“I should have rented a van.”

They tried to catch their breath, but it wasn’t easy. Kate could feel the heat emanating from his body and knew her own was equally warm, willing and able. Her brain and common sense disappeared when he lifted her and easily positioned himself in the passenger seat, with Kate on his lap.

Straddling him was a heavenly position, Kate decided. Not ladylike or remotely subtle, but an easy angle from which to lower her head and kiss him. She felt his arousal through layers of cotton and resisted wriggling against him. Kissing was enough for now, and his fingers fumbling with the buttons of her blouse more than enough stimulation to make brain activity impossible.

Leaning into his body would guarantee that she was lost, so Kate held herself back. But clearly Dustin had other ideas. Once her blouse opened, he moved his hands to her waist and tugged, bringing the heat of her against the hardness of him and setting them both on fire. Clearly, Kate thought in a haze, there would be no turning back. And, with the delicious sensations radiating from her body, why would she want to?

Dustin’s hands moved to the waistband of her shorts and found her zipper as Kate attempted to unbutton his shirt. She used to be better at this, she remembered, but—

“You’re trespassing,” came a loud male voice, and a beam of light shone on Kate’s face, making her open her eyes and then close them again before she went blind. Dustin released her, then turned toward the intruder. The windows were open, so the flashlight came closer. “This is the deputy sheriff. You two, break it up. You’re under arrest.”

“T
HEN WHAT HAPPENED
?” Emily tucked her baby against her breast and rearranged the blankets so that nothing was exposed. She was due to leave the hospital this afternoon, but had convinced the nurses she needed a few more hours rest before going home to care for four children. “Was it Carter? He picks up all the extra hours he can since
he got engaged. I think he’s saving up for a house.”

“Yes. And Dustin knew him. He went to school with Dustin’s older brother.”

Emily chuckled. “It’s still a small town. Lucky for you.”

“Not exactly. I guess Darrell, the brother, had—has—quite a reputation in the county. It took a while to convince the man that we weren’t there to steal construction supplies or deal drugs. He finally caught on that we were two stupid adults making out in a rental car, but it took forever before he let us go.”

“And then what?” Emily leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. “Tell me you had sex with him.”

“I did not have sex with him.” But she certainly would have, if the Beauville sheriff’s deputy hadn’t interrupted. “I’m not sure things would have gone that far.”

“Hah,” her friend said. “Your face gets red every time you talk about him.”

“It’s because of our past together.”

“It’s because you’re on vacation and he’s around and you’re around and—” she waved her free hand to indicate the cheery hospital room—“one thing leads to another and then you’re in here having your fourth baby.”

“Speak for yourself,” Kate said, but her gaze
was on the little girl who was intent on nursing. “She really is beautiful.”

“Then have a few of your own,” Emily said. “Grab that cowboy and take him back to the drive-in tonight. Or here’s a novel idea—why don’t you ask him out?”

“On a date?”

“Don’t they do that in New York?”

“They do, but—”

“No ‘buts,”’ Emily insisted. “I want you to stay here in Beauville with me and Elizabeth and Lorna. Our kids can grow up together and raise hell while we complain and drink frozen margaritas and give birthday parties.”

“I’d need a husband first.”

Emily grinned. “Now why do I think that wouldn’t be any trouble?”

“He was never in love with me,” Kate said, knowing Emily would know who she was referring to. “So there’s no reason to think he’d fall in love with me now.”

“No?”

“No,” Kate declared. This was the problem with being a romantic. She was a writer with a wild imagination, and he was a rancher trying to relive the good old days. These kinds of sexual journeys into the past never worked.

And she’d better keep reminding herself that if she got hurt again, she had only herself to blame.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

S
HE’D HOPED TO
keep the drive-in incident quiet, but Kate realized she should have known that her mother would hear of it.

“I knew he’d get you in trouble,” Martha declared, shaking her head outside of Emily’s hospital room. It hadn’t taken her mother long to track her down this morning. Martha was on her way out the door of the ranch when Kate finally woke up. It had been a long, sleepless night. “Those Jones boys are no good. He almost got you put in jail for trespassing!”

“It wasn’t exactly—” Kate tried, moving her mother toward the nursery window so the sight of the babies might distract her.

“Carl thought it was somewhat humorous,” her mother continued, having declined Kate’s offer of a ride to Marysville this morning because the real estate mogul had offered first. “The sheriff’s office called him at two this morning to check out your story. It’s a good thing Carl knew who you are.”

“I’m sorry they had to wake him,” Kate said,
taking her mother’s elbow and moving her toward the babies in the window. “Have you seen Elizabeth? Doesn’t she look wonderful?”

“Yes, of course she does, but Kate, how on earth could you start up a relationship with that man?”

“It’s not a relationship. It was just…” Kate hesitated. “I don’t know what it was,” she fibbed, knowing it was lust, pure and simple. On both sides. And it had felt great, before the deputy sheriff’s intrusion.

“It’s embarrassing, that’s what it is,” her mother informed her. “I know those kind of men, and they’re no good.”

“Mom, what on earth are you talking about? Dustin’s a perfectly nice man, who happens to work for Gran. I’ve known him for years. Oh, look, here we are in front of the babies. Aren’t they sweet?”

“You won’t find little Nancy in there,” Martha said, barely glancing toward the infants. “Your grandmother is still holding her in Elizabeth’s room. Did you get pictures?”

“I sure did. Where’s Carl? I’ll apologize to him in person.”

“He’s visiting a friend of his father’s who had surgery. I’m going to meet him at noon and we’re going to have lunch on the way back to town. How is Emily?”

“Fine, of course. She’s going home later.”

“I’ll stop in and say hello. Oh, is that the Bennett baby?” She pointed to the glass, where George was bundling up an infant to cradle in his arms. “Such a good father, that man,” Martha said. “You should be so lucky to find a man like that, instead of fooling around with actors and cowboys.”

“You know, Emily and George did their share of making out at the Good Night Drive-In, too,” Kate pointed out. “Jennie may even have been conceived there, Mother.”

“Oh, stop your teasing,” Martha said, waving to George, who grinned at them and held up his new daughter.

“Teasing? I’m serious. And there’s nothing wrong with cowboys,” Kate replied, remembering Dustin’s hands on her skin. Those very skillful hands had been heading toward her breasts when James Carter decided to earn his moonlighting money.

“Are we going out to dinner tonight?” Kate added.

“Oh. Yes.” Her mother didn’t look as excited as Kate thought she’d be about filet mignon and peach shortcake with freshly whipped cream tinged with cinnamon, a tradition when Kate was home on vacation. “I almost forgot that was tonight.”

Her mother was more interested in what Carl
Jackson was doing tonight, Kate supposed. This behavior wasn’t typical of her pleasant, overprotective, domestic and contented mother. For a split second Kate wondered if Carl had shown Martha his construction site one late night, but then she thought better of it. Martha McIntosh, age sixty-four, would never be caught dead in a compromising position.