Her Sweet Talkin' Man (12 page)

“She seems like a very nice lady.”

“She is. I think she tries to be a grandmother to Timmy because she knows he hasn't got one. I'm so grateful. I worry about him.”

Ace knew that he could walk away now. The moment of passion had passed. He was free, and so was she. But in its place was this…something he couldn't ignore. Crystal looked up at him, and he saw an emotion she usually kept hidden, that longing to make up for all the things her son had missed in his life. But for this moment, in Ace's presence, she was letting go of the brave and happy front she kept up for Timmy's sake.

“You give him all he needs,” he said softly. “He's never going to forget that, you know. He'll grow up and know that you tried to make up for the things he couldn't have.”

She looked up then, straight into his eyes, her own lightly misted. “I know he won't blame me, but…I just want so much for him. I want him to be happy, completely happy. Still, I know there are times and there will be times when he's going to realize that other kids have things he doesn't, and that breaks my heart.”

Glancing to the side, she turned from him. To hide the even deeper feeling in her eyes, he was sure.

It made him ache, this knowledge that she hurt and tried so hard to hide it, and he realized that this was the one thing he couldn't protect himself from. He could hold back his passion when passion was all that
was at stake, even passion of such intensity he knew nothing like it. But he couldn't hold back his need to comfort her, to hold her, to help her.

He stepped closer and slid his hands up her arms.

“Come here,” he said, and he tilted his head and kissed her softly. He licked at the few tears that had escaped her lashes.

A low sob escaped her throat. “I'm ashamed,” she said, and tried to turn her head.

“Don't be. You're human, and you're a mother. And these past ten days have been tough and unnerving. It's all right to be afraid at times. It just means that you care. I just can't…I'm sorry, but I can't let you go through this thing alone.” He pulled her tightly against him and, bringing his hand up to cup her jaw, kissed her slowly, reverently. Again and again.

She softened in his arms, twined her own arms around his neck. Her body molded to his.

But even so, he could feel some hesitation.

“Crystal?”

“I can't let you do this. I can't lean on you. I only have me to depend on. I have to be strong.”

“Not tonight.”

“Yes, tonight. When you're gone—”

“When I'm gone, I'll be gone and you'll go on as you have. But tonight I'm here with you, and you can lean on me. Just this one time. Take what I have.”

She lifted her head from where she had hidden it against his body. Tears still glistened in her eyes, but there was a sense of wonder, as well. She smiled at him, slowly.

“You're a wonderful, generous man, Ace.” She rose on her toes and kissed him. Softly, shyly. She pulled back, and then a sudden light, a glow, filled her face, and she kissed him again. Less softly, less shyly. She nibbled at the corners of his mouth, brushed her lips against his, kissed him fully, deeply, until the heat rose within him like an inferno, engulfing him, scorching him.

He groaned. “I'm sorry, angel,” he said. “I'm sorry.” Licking at the seam of her lips, he gained entrance and claimed the territory of her mouth.

It was hot, moist, tasting of mint. Crystal met him, kiss for kiss.

He urged her deeper into the entry of the house, then kicked the door shut. The closed curtains of the house encased them in shadows with just a few thin rays of sunlight intruding.

Good. He wanted no intruders this evening. If this was all of her he was to have—and it was—he would take it. Every bit, every minute, every touch and every sigh.

“You're sure?” she asked on a whisper as if she'd heard his thoughts.

“You know we've been heading toward this since that first day,” he said, and he swung her into his arms, marching toward the room he'd dreamed of for long nights.

But as he laid her down on the cinnamon-and-cream-and-peaches coverlet of her bed, he hesitated. That terrible trusting look in her eyes pulled him up short.

“I don't want to hurt you.” He said the words he
never remembered saying to a woman before at a moment like this. No doubt because he'd never had a woman like Crystal before.

She raised her chin and took in a deep breath, her curves shifting and making him crazy to have her. But he held back.

“You can't hurt me,” she whispered. “You're a fantasy, a one-night thing, like that gorgeous blue convertible. Something to enjoy once before life overtakes you and routine catches you up. My life is filled with routine, Ace. Responsibility. Happiness, too, of course, but not much excitement. Not many fantasy moments.”

A man didn't get an invitation like that from a woman like this very often. Most men would have leaped on her, taken all she had, but… She considered him a fantasy, not real. A small, insistent pain nagged him as he gazed down at her, admiring all that she was.

Well, he wasn't real, at least not for her, was he? He'd told her time and time again that he couldn't stay, and wasn't that what fantasies were? Temporary temptations. She would have a hard life ahead of her raising her son alone. He knew that better than anyone. He could give her one night; he could make a memory for himself, as well.

“If you want a fantasy, then maybe we should be a bit more adventurous than making love on the bed,” he said with a grin.

She opened her eyes wide. “What would you suggest?”

He raised one shoulder. “Where's your car?”

She frowned, confused. “At the hospital. Fiona drove.”

“Then your garage is empty?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I'll be right back.” He turned to go.

“Ace?”

“Yes?” He looked over his shoulder.

“Should I…” He could almost hear her nervous swallow. “Should I undress?”

He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall as he took deep breaths. “No. Don't.” The words came out choked. “If you get undressed, I won't be able to do this right, and I intend to do this right. Just wait.”

He left quickly, before he could think of her naked in his arms. He gathered what he needed, did what he'd decided to do. In less than five minutes he was back.

She sat up nervously.

He circled the bed and took her hand. “Come with me.”

She followed him, and he led her toward the side of the house. “Ace, this is the way to the garage.”

“I know.” And he slid the door open, revealed what he'd done.

The blue convertible took up almost all of the space, but he had still managed to light a dozen candles and tuck them in safe places. She didn't have any decent wine, but he had made do with what she had. Now he led her to the rear door. He opened it and motioned her inside.

And suddenly she smiled. “We're going to make
love in one of your cars. Are you sure you can do that? Can you sell it afterward?”

“I can charge double,” he teased, and he maneuvered her farther in, then turned to her. He reached for the glasses of wine he had placed there and handed one to her. “To fantasies,” he said.

“To blue convertibles and men named Ace,” she whispered, and took a sip. When she set the glass aside, her lips were moist. He couldn't wait any longer.

“I'm going to make love to you now, darlin',” he told her.

“I'm going to let you. I'm going to touch you, too,” she said.

He kissed her mouth, then placed his arm beneath her and lowered her to the cushions.

“It won't be as comfortable as a bed,” he whispered over her lips.

“It's going to be wonderful,” she said.

And later, as he opened the last button on her dress and bared her to his view, he knew that she was right. As he took the bud of her breast into his mouth, he knew that she was more than right.

She moaned as he suckled her. His fingers traced a line down her side, across her hip. He slid her lacy white panties off and tossed them aside, trailing his fingers through the soft curls that hid her from his view.

Her body bucked beneath his touch.

“Shh, tell me if I do anything you don't like,” he whispered.

“You won't,” she whispered back. “Do more.”

And he did. He stroked her gently, deeply until she was wet and hot and very ready. Her eyes were dull with passion, her lips moist.

“Ace, let me touch you, too. Make you ready.”

He closed his eyes as she reached for his belt buckle. In an effort to free him, she slipped delicate fingers inside the waistband of his pants, and he nearly went mad with need.

He covered her hand with his own.

“I'm more than ready, sweetheart.” He gasped out the words and twisted against her slightly so she could feel just how ready he was.

For half a second he thought he saw her smile as she nodded and moved back slightly. He unzipped his pants, relieving the pressure. He allowed her to unbutton his shirt, though her butterfly touches drove him wild.

“Oh, lady, I want you.” He almost didn't recognize his own voice.

“I want you to remember this,” she whispered, peeling the last of his clothes from him and skimming her hands down his body.

“Nothing could make me forget this.” He stroked his fingertips across her lips, down her jaw, skimming the outline of her breast, barely brushing her nipple. “Let me make it memorable for
you.
Real memorable,” he said, teasing the indentation of her waist and slowly, very slowly slipping his fingers into her depths.

She cried out and raised herself to him.

“Ace!” Her voice was high and breathy.

“Yes,” he agreed harshly, and he joined his body
to hers, and the breath and all his will left his body. She was his entire focus, his every need.

Slowly he took her until she whimpered with need and his own body begged for release and he couldn't go slowly anymore. But he wanted her with him. He had to have her with him. To share as they'd been sharing these past few days.

“Now, darlin',” he said. “With me.”

“Yes, with you,” she said on a sob, and then the stars spilled into his senses and he collapsed against Crystal's soft, warm body.

Long moments later he realized that he must be crushing her, and he lifted her into his arms, turned with her as much as he could in the small space so that he was the one beneath.

She looked so beautiful, so fragile in the pale glow of the candles. This night he had meant to give her a fantasy. Instead, she had given him one.

He smiled against her hair, and then he frowned, remembering that he had almost forgotten protection until they were both naked and almost past the point of no return. She had looked suddenly nervous, biting her lip, haltingly confessing that she didn't have any birth control. He had cursed himself as he stopped to look for what he should have had at hand in the first place.

How could he, of all people, have forgotten that? How could he have made her have to ask?

He pulled her closer.

“It won't happen again, darlin',” he promised.

She tensed, and he realized what she was thinking.

“I won't let you worry about protection again,” he said.

He could feel her smile against his skin. “Well, we did say it would be just this one time,” she said.

Like hell. “Maybe just this one night.” He turned her in his arms and kissed her.

“Kiss me back,” he urged.

And she did. Later, back in her room, in her bed she took him to heaven again, too. It was a night to remember. He knew he'd never know another like it in his lifetime. Just as he knew that the morning would come too soon.

Fantasies had a way of looking different in the morning light.

A
ce had held her close all night, sometimes so closely that she almost didn't have room to breathe. When he realized he was doing that, he always awoke and apologized, guilt filling his eyes. She wondered how many times in his life he'd wanted to hold on to things, how many times he'd wanted his father, acceptance, the overtures of friends, instead of the sneers of those who considered him an interloper. Too many times, she guessed, and she was pretty certain that he had always backed away, eased up, just as he'd eased up on holding her too tightly.

She understood that kind of dilemma, because
she
was beginning to want to hold on to him, and it just wouldn't do.

When he awoke the next morning and looked into her eyes, she sensed a kind of wariness, a carefulness.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

No, she would never be all right. Now that she knew how things could be, she would never be satisfied with less again. But she was going to have to learn to live dissatisfied.

“I'm good,” she lied. “I'd better go call Grace.” She made her exit from the bedroom as quickly as she could. If that wasn't goodbye looming in his eyes,
she didn't know what was. He was getting to the end of his mission here. Mission Creek Motors was making Lone Star Autos look bad. He had shown his father that he could be a success without Carson money or influence. He had given his father a run for his money and won. It was all he had come for, and he wouldn't want to stay around looking like a wanna-be.

She half hoped that he'd come after her, coax her back into bed. But he didn't. Soon after, she heard him getting ready for work.

He peeked in on her as she was making breakfast. She couldn't quite meet his gaze. “Everything's almost ready here. I'll leave it covered on the stove to keep warm. I'm going to go pick up Timmy now.”

“I could get him if you want,” he offered, but when she looked at him, she saw concern in his eyes and knew that he was worrying that she would expect something of him, the way John had. The way her father had always said that her mother expected too much and then had walked out the door. She knew how it was. Nothing lasted forever, maybe not even more than one night.

That was okay, she thought, squaring her shoulders. She'd known how it would be; she'd even told him how it would be. It wasn't his fault that the night had changed her more than she'd thought it would.

She managed a smile, a strong, genuine smile. Ace was a good man. Her needs weren't his concern, but if he thought she was hurting,
he
would hurt. He'd want to help her, and this was one thing he couldn't help her with.

“Have a good day. Sell lots of cars. Be happy.” She couldn't seem to keep from saying that last.

Immediately his concerned look deepened. He snagged her around the waist and pulled her close.

The need for him was almost overwhelming. Her throat nearly closed, and she had to shut her eyes to keep him from seeing the distress there.

“Something's wrong,” he whispered.

But somehow she managed to shake her head and keep herself from begging him to stay with her. She pasted on her old trusted smile again.

“I just didn't get enough sleep,” she said, keeping it light. “Some of us are used to going to bed early.”

“You should stay home and take care of yourself today,” he said. “I could take care of you.”

It sounded like heaven. It sounded much too tempting. If she spent too much time alone with him now, she'd end up telling him all sorts of things, imagining all sorts of things. If she wasn't careful, she was going to start believing she was falling in love with him. And that was the last thing on earth she wanted. A relationship with a charming wanderer who could commit to no one? Not for her. Not for a woman with a child.

She wrinkled her nose and chuckled. “Um, sounds nice, but no. I've got to go.”

She forced herself to push away from him and leave. She was pretty sure it was time to send Ace back to the Overton Apartments. Having him here after last night just wasn't going to work.

Besides, Branson, or whoever had been following her and Timmy, seemed to have given up the pursuit.

 

If ever a woman wanted him out of her life, it was Crystal Bennett, Ace thought, watching her giving him her tenth anxious look of the day. It had been two days since they'd made love, and she was showing increasing signs of regret.

He was feeling regret, too, although of a different nature. He wanted her smiles back. Her real smiles. Not those fake polite ones she threw his way every so often. As incredible as making love to her had been, he would have been willing to go back and undo that night if doing so would bring back her smiles and leave her happy. He had to know she would be happy when he left Mission Creek.

That didn't mean he'd stopped wanting to touch her. What had been a longing, a desire before was like a constant roaring and hungry bonfire within him now.

But touching her had made her unhappy. That was very clear, and he wasn't going to do it again if he could help it.

He probably should get out of here, go back to the apartments or even leave town. There really wasn't much reason to stay. He'd come here filled with anger and a need to exact some sort of retribution, to make a point. He supposed that he had, in a sense. Mission Creek Motors had ten times the business Lone Star Auto had these days, but the sense of satisfaction, of closure that he'd thought he'd feel had never materialized. He knew now that it probably never would. Nothing was ever really going to change the past or make up for it.

No doubt he should just accept that, cut his losses and leave. Move on to the next town and the next job. Things seemed to have died down here. No one had approached Crystal or Timmy. There really wasn't any reason to stay.

He was telling himself just that when the phone rang later that night. Crystal was putting Timmy to bed. She was busy doing the most important work of her life—caring for her child. And that child was sleepy. He needed his rest, not an interruption.

Ace picked up the phone.

“Hello. Bennett residence,” he said.

No response. Not even the sound of someone breathing.

“Hello?” he said again.

Still no answer. Probably a wrong number. He was talking to a dead phone.

Then he heard the click, the sound of the connection being severed at the other end of the line.

A wrong number. Definitely. Or maybe a man calling. Surely men called her now and then, men who wouldn't care to hear another man answering the phone.

Ace was amazed at the swift feeling of possessiveness that enveloped him, a savage need to put up barriers and keep all other men out. He fought it. Inch by inch, sensation by sensation, he tamed it. Slowly. Very slowly until it seemed as if he might have the thing licked and under some semblance of control.

A man calling Crystal, wanting to ask her out.

Maybe he didn't have complete control over himself as yet. And maybe that hadn't been a man want
ing to ask Crystal out. Maybe it had been a man wanting to threaten her, to see if she was home alone.

Carefully Ace hung up the phone, fighting the sick sensation of fear that assaulted him.

He was staying awhile longer. Nothing could drag him away yet. He was going to turn his efforts to making sure she would be safe and protected when he did go. That was his new goal, and a much worthier one than the reason he had come here in the first place.

He had lived his life with missing pieces, knowing he had been tossed aside, but he had, at least, always been safe.

If it took all he had, all the power he could draw on, all the will, he was going to make Crystal safe.

She came out of the room with a smile on her face, the same smile she'd been wearing for days, the pretend smile she wore for his sake.

“Who was that?” she asked.

Well, two could play at this game of pretend, he thought, knowing that nothing could make him reveal his suspicions.

“Salesman,” he said. “You know how pushy those guys can be.” He gave her a grin.

Her answering chuckle was genuine, so sweet and special that he wanted to catch it somehow, pack it up so that he could take it with him and keep it for the weeks and years ahead when he would be alone again and would want to remember her.

He would always remember her.

“How's Timmy?”

Immediately her smile faded. “I don't know. His
friend Benny has upset him. Benny, it seems, is visiting his grandfather's farm. Timmy would love to do something like that, but…he doesn't have a grandfather. Not a real one. Hard to argue that point, isn't it?”

“So what are you going to do?”

She shrugged. “I don't know. Take him out to Carson Ranch again, I think. He was just there with Grace, but he usually stays at the house. I thought I might get Flynt to give him his first ride on a pony.”

“Flynt's a busy man.”

“I know that.” Immediately hurt crept into her eyes. He cursed himself for putting that there.

“I didn't mean that he wouldn't do that for Timmy. I only meant…well, I know a few things about horses, and I think Timmy trusts me. It can be a scary business mounting your first horse. That is, well, I was a lot older than he is and already away at the academy when I first tried it. It helps if the person with you is someone you trust. Maybe I…” He stopped, embarrassed to think that he was babbling. He, who'd made his reputation by selling his way into situations.

“Are you volunteering to go out to Carson Ranch and help Timmy with his first horseback ride?”

It sounded foolish, ridiculous. “Yeah, I suppose that was a crazy idea. A ranch that size has any number of people capable of helping a small boy learn the ropes.”

She shook her head. “Not someone Timmy trusts, though. And Flynt or Matt might do it, but like you said, they're busy men. It would be an imposition. You're willing to go out there?”

For some reason he was desperate to go out there, but it was the last thing he wanted to admit to. No need to, anyway, he decided as a perfectly valid excuse came to him. He smiled. “It would be the height of brazenness, wouldn't it? To chip away at the Carson auto business and then march onto Carson land as if I belonged there?”

“It would probably bring a lot of Carsons running to see,” she warned. She gave him a slow smile and crossed her arms.

And he knew suddenly and without a doubt that he'd been had by a woman whose sweet eyes revealed nothing but good intentions. Oh, he knew what she was thinking. She'd staged that dinner the other day in the hopes that he and his family would…well, that they'd become a family. She was still at it.

Never gonna happen, sweetheart, he thought. This plan won't work any better than the last. But it
would
give him the opportunity for one last grand parting shot.

More importantly, he would be the one to get to introduce Timmy to his first horse. Ace was amazed, maybe even ashamed and definitely alarmed at the sense of possessiveness he felt. But there was no denying it. He wanted to be the man who put Timmy on a horse, no one else. He wanted it done right. Nothing scary and no chance that Timmy could get hurt.

“I'd be honored if you'd let me do this,” he told her.

She stood there quietly, just gazing at him. Finally
she nodded. “It will be a good way to end things,” she said softly.

Something shifted deep inside him. Something uncomfortable and painful. “We're ending things, then, are we?”

Crystal met his eyes and nodded slowly. “I think we have to, don't you? For Timmy, at least.”

He knew what she meant. She didn't want her son getting too attached to him, getting hurt if he stuck around too long.

“You're right,” he said. “We'll do this, then I'll be gone soon afterward.”

He had better make sure that she was safe, and fast. At the very least, he needed to make sure that there was someone to watch over her after he was gone.

 

Ace had done a lot of horseback riding in his life. Crystal could see that from the start. It was more than the jeans, the boots and the hat that looked like it had endured years of wear. It was the way he felt at ease with the animals and they with him.

“Thank you for letting us bring Timmy out to the ranch,” she told Flynt as she watched Ace saddling and soothing a little dappled pony named Freckles.

Flynt shifted uncomfortably. “You and Timmy are always welcome, you know that.”

She smiled. “I do, but you know that's not what I meant.” She looked purposefully toward Ace.

Flynt shrugged. “You think Josie would have let me in the house tonight if I hadn't? I have to say that it goes against the grain inviting a man to my house who's made every effort to run Dad out of business.
Still, I have to give him credit. He's got the guts of a Carson. And he knows how to flirt with a horse. Makes the animal feel comfortable.”

He was making her son feel comfortable, too, Crystal acknowledged a few minutes later when Ace came to fetch Timmy from her.

He gave Flynt a curt nod. “Good stock,” he said, motioning toward the horse. “He'll make a fine mount for a young cowboy.”

It was the closest thing to a compliment Ace had paid a Carson in all his time here in Mission Creek.

Flynt stared back and nodded.

“Carson stock is the best.”

“Of course.”

“You handled that pony like a Carson. Must be in the blood.”

Ace appeared to mull that comment over. “I had a good teacher at the academy.”

Crystal expected Flynt to get angry at Ace for apparently still considering it an insult to be called a Carson. Instead, he laughed. “You don't give an inch, do you?”

Ace looked to the side for a long time. Finally he shook his head. “Look, I know you're not responsible for my life, but the years I was growing up I didn't know who my father was. He might have been a bank robber or worse. I couldn't live worrying about my genetics or what I was destined to be because of an accident of birth. I was taught that I had to be my own man, and that's what I've tried to be. Again, not your fault, but don't expect me to jump on the Carson
bandwagon and pretend to be one when I've never been one before.”