Her Sweet Talkin' Man (14 page)

He would be devastated if he thought that she was crying over him. He would think he was repeating Ford's mistake.

“So he won't know. I won't tell him, I won't let on. I'll pretend I don't care.”

The first step in showing him just how much she didn't care was to send him away.

“But not to the Overton Apartments. Not there,” she whispered.

There were a lot of nice places to stay in Mission Creek, and she was very good at getting people to do things on a moment's notice. She would find a nice apartment that would take Ace in for tonight or for this week if he liked.

Then things would start to get better. Surely they would. Once he was out of her home and out of her bed and out of her heart, she and Timmy would be fine. They'd be safe again.

 

“Probably shouldn't be here. Might get caught and taken in.” Branson Hines mumbled to himself as he stared up at the clean lines of the hospital. She was in there somewhere. He wished he knew just where.

But the hospital security was difficult to breach. Even more difficult to get past than that watchdog that had taken to guarding Crystal.

He snorted. He wanted Crystal Bennett's world to collapse the way his Deena's had. No one had paid attention to Deena when she'd lost her baby, but they sure as shootin' would pay attention to Crystal when he destroyed her.

Then they'd see that they couldn't destroy Branson Hines.

The hospital security or the dark-haired watchdog?
He smiled to himself, running his tongue over his teeth. It wasn't even a choice, really.

Even watchdogs had to close their eyes now and then.

W
hen Ace stepped through the doorway into Crystal's house that night, he knew that something was different. The pale blue-and-cream decor, the golden gleam of the wood floor still warmed him. The flowers in their vases, the candles in their stands still felt like Crystal. He realized he'd begun to think of this place not just as hers, but as a home, a home he'd been sharing. None of the objects in the room had changed, but something was different.

He didn't have to ask what it was, either, not with Crystal standing there in the dining-room doorway looking pale and lost and sad. This was really it, then. Goodbye.

He felt the cold swirl through him. Not just through his skin but also his soul.

“Is Timmy here?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I didn't want to scare him.”

So there was to be no goodbye there. He nodded, even though he thought she was making a mistake. Not that it mattered. She was Timmy's mother. She got to choose. He didn't want to think about how it made him feel, not being able to say goodbye.

But Crystal bit her lip. She knew some of it. “He'll see you around town until you're ready to go. I
thought it would be best if we made your goodbye to him more…gradual.”

“How gradual?” This wasn't what he had planned. He meant to go. A clean-cut quick escape. The thought of seeing her from a distance, going back to being less than a lover, was agonizing, even though he knew she believed she was doing what was best.

But when she looked at him, he could see that she wasn't any surer than he was. “I don't know. I—I looked in the newspaper today. I found apartments, nice ones. I don't want you to have to go back to the Overton Apartments.”

He managed to find something that resembled a smile. “You know that I didn't stay there because I had to, but because I chose to.”

She took a deep breath. “I know that, and I know why. I suppose if you choose to do it again, I can't stop you.”

But it would be different now. He would be choosing to move from Crystal and Timmy's hospitality back to a building that was little better than a brothel. Everyone would know that.

“It would be an insult to you and Timmy,” he said slowly.

She shook her head. “Timmy and I have faced worse insults. That's not it. I just…I know Nola Warburn. I liked her when we were younger. I don't now. The sheets aren't clean, the rooms aren't clean. It's not a healthy place for a person to live. There's no warmth.”

“You think I need warmth?” He couldn't help smiling at her consternation.

“Yes,” she said on a whisper. “Yes, I do. I chose the best places I could find. I circled them,” she said, and her voice sounded thick. She was looking down, handing him the piece of newspaper.

He reached out and took it, trying to ignore the fact that she was visibly shaken by this moment.

But how could he ignore it? He might as well ignore his own need for air.

Ace stepped forward into her space. He slid his hands into her hair. He kissed her. Softly. Slowly. Achingly.

“You want me to go,” he reminded her.

“Yes.” She nodded hard, though he could hear the tears in her voice, see the tears in her eyes.

“I could stay awhile longer.”

“No.” She shook her head just as hard. “No. Go. Just…just go somewhere where you can be happy and safe and comfortable.”

He sipped at the tears that fled the corners of her lovely eyes. “That's important to you?”

She looked directly into his eyes. “You've been so good to us.”

It was the worst thing she could have said. Gratitude. That was what this was about.

“All right, then.” He took the page from the newspaper with the addresses circled. “I'll come get my things when I find something.”

But as he moved outside and got into his car, Ace couldn't help swearing beneath his breath. He hadn't meant to stay even this long. He certainly hadn't meant to leave Crystal's house and go searching for an apartment.

He wanted to be gone.

No, what he wanted was to march right back inside and make love to Crystal all night long. He wanted to turn those tears into soft cries of desire. He wanted to change who he was, who he'd been all his life, and be the kind of man who could change every bad thing that had happened in her life.

Most of all, he wanted to be a different kind of man. The very thought almost made him laugh. He'd spent his life running from being a wanna-be, but now here he was, still wanting the unattainable. If he stayed here, everyone would think that he wanted his share of the Carson pie. If he could, he would like to be able to give Crystal the kinds of things the Carson wives had. But no matter how you looked at it, he was always going to be the outsider Carson, even if it was only in his own mind. Crystal deserved to have a better life than that and a better man than he was.

She'd had enough hurt in her life. And being who and what he was, he couldn't promise not to hurt her again. Most likely he
would
hurt her again, even if it was unintentional.

Damn, but he wanted to leave right now. This long-term slow leaving was going to kill him. Knowing she was right across town was going to make him crazy.

He looked down at the newspaper.

She wanted him to live in one of these places. He put the car in gear and began to drive.

Hours later he was still driving. Then he was walking. It was getting dark now. People were already
starting to turn in, and he hadn't looked at a single apartment.

“No point,” he whispered.

He wanted to give her the gradual goodbye that she wanted. But he didn't trust himself to let go gradually and not hurt her or Timmy. So he had to make it fast, final, so the healing could begin. And he wanted their last memories to be good ones.

Turning on his heel, he strode to his car, climbed in and made his way back to Crystal's.

She opened the door to him.

He scowled. “You didn't even look to see who I was.”

“I knew it was you,” she said, her voice a hushed whisper.

“How did you know?”

“I just did.” Crystal stared up at him. How could she tell him that his presence was like a living thing that called to her? She always knew when he was in a room. There'd been no question who was at the door.

“Did you…did you find a place to stay?”

He shook his head. “It won't be necessary.”

Her brow furrowed. “I don't understand.”

“I know. I wish I could explain better, but… You want me to slip out slowly, to fade away like a shadow until you forget I'm here. I'm afraid I can't do that. When I go, I want to be gone. For good. Forever. It's for the best. For everyone. I'm not doing Timmy any favor by lingering and it's just not my way. So when we end it, we end it here. Now. We make it final.”

Crystal wasn't sure how she managed to conceal the lump of pain that rose in her throat. She'd known it had to end. She'd even told him she wanted it to. But knowing the best thing to do didn't necessarily make it the easiest.

Somehow she managed to continue to stare into those fierce blue eyes. Somehow she managed to find her voice.

“Tonight?” she asked.

“Yes.” His voice was harsh.

“Timmy's here. He's sleeping.” She motioned to his room at the end of the house.

“That's all right. I'll say goodbye to him in the morning.”

She knew what he was suggesting. Even as pain lanced through her, desire was building. If he was to go, she wanted to touch him again, she wanted to take him inside her again.

“The last time,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. “We'll say our farewells tonight.”

“Do you think… Is that a good idea?” Much as she wanted him, she didn't want him berating himself in the morning for taking her to bed and then walking away. She didn't want to be the one regretting anything, either, especially not when she'd promised herself she'd never go down this road again. Making love with a man one night, watching him leave forever the next day.

“It's a hell of a bad idea,” he said. Then he stepped inside, closed the door behind him, snaked his hand around her waist and drew her to him. “And
I don't give a damn. If you do, you tell me no now. While I can still stop.”

His flesh was warm against her own, his scent swirled around her. She opened her mouth.

He waited.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, one last time. One time to put an end to things.”

But it wouldn't really put an end to things. She knew that. She loved him. If she didn't, she wouldn't be here, doing this. And because she loved him so, she was going to regret every minute of this night come morning, and come mornings many months from now.

But not tonight. Not yet. For tonight she would not regret a thing. She would brand herself upon him if she could, so that maybe someday he'd remember her, remember this moment. And feel a sense of home, a moment when he belonged to a woman who loved him.

Crystal rose on her toes. She slid her hands up Ace's chest, looped her arms around his neck. “Kiss me,” she whispered against his lips. “Kiss me and make love with me one last time.”

He groaned. He opened his mouth over hers. Heat and need rose within her as he devoured her, claimed her. He swung her up in his arms and entered the bedroom where she'd lain while he'd slept on the couch. He pushed the door closed behind them.

“This room is just like you,” he said as he laid her down on the bed. “All business on the outside.” He motioned to the stark walls and tasteful prints. “And all warm and glowing and creamy on the inside.” He
stroked the peaches-and-cream-and-cinnamon quilt, then planted his palms on either side of her waist as he braced himself above her.

She smiled up at him.

“Yes, do that, angel,” he said, keeping his voice low so that he wouldn't wake Timmy. “Smile at me. I want to remember you smiling.”

She understood. He didn't want this last time to be sad. Neither did she.

He lowered himself over her. He kissed her, tasted her, brushing his lips over hers again and again. She wrapped her arms around him.

He rolled with her, taking her weight onto him, leaving her gazing down at him. He reached up and with one quick movement undid the clasp that held her hair. It spilled over her shoulders, framing her face.

“This time you control it,” he said. “You give what you want, you take what you want. It's all you, as much as you want and as deep as you desire.”

She bent and kissed his jaw. “And what about you? What about what you want?” she asked.

She felt him smile against her skin. “With you it's all good, all beautiful. You're a lovely, giving woman.”

“Well, then,” she said, her hands shaking as she tried to appear confident without letting him know just how much this meant to her. “Then let me start like this.”

She leaned down and kissed him, as she moved her hands inside the jacket he still wore.

He raised up slightly to give her better access, and
she slid the jacket down his arms and freed him. She pulled it from beneath him and tossed it aside. It landed in a corner of the room.

Ace raised a brow. “J.D. wouldn't be too thrilled at your cavalier treatment of his favorite formal wear.”

She smiled at him. “J.D. isn't here.”

“Good thing, too. If he saw you like this, I'd just have to kill him, and as you know, I'm not—”

“A violent man,” she whispered. “Oh, I know that, Ace. You're not a violent man, but you're a very desirable man.”

She bent and kissed him beneath his chin, popping open the top button on his white shirt. One by one she released the rest of the buttons, then slid her hands beneath the cloth and spread the edges. Warm, muscled skin lay beneath her fingertips. She moved one finger and he nearly jumped right off the bed.

Crystal raised her eyes to his. Tension radiated from him, and he held his jaw taut.

“Sorry, angel,” he told her. “But you make it very difficult to lie still. I want to touch you badly.”

“Touch me,” she whispered.

“I want you to be in control,” he reminded her. He laid his hand on her thigh as she knelt over him.

A long shudder slid through her. “Ace, I don't think either one of us is in control tonight.”

“I don't want you to feel, come morning, that I took advantage of you.” His eyes turned serious and dark.

She couldn't help smiling. She leaned forward,
dropping a light kiss on his chest. “I'm sitting on top of you, darlin',” she reminded him.

He smiled back. “My name's not darlin',” he said, handing her back some of the first words she'd said to him.

“Allow me to help you with this.” She opened his shirt farther. “Your hands appear to be full.” Another line from that first day.

He moved his hand farther up her thigh, making her gasp. “Only one of my hands is full,” he told her. But then he slipped his other hand beneath her skirt and touched her inner thigh, stealing her very breath and thought and sanity.

“Both my hands are occupied. Now you can help me,” he said, his voice low and thick.

And she somehow found his mouth with her own. She tunneled her fingers into his hair and kissed him like there was no tomorrow. Because there
would
be no tomorrow, she knew. They were back to the beginning in many ways, living old memories, the kinds of things people did when they knew they would never see each other again.

But not yet. Please not yet, she thought.

I love this man, right or wrong, foolish or not.
The thought followed her as she pulled his shirt from him.

“Make love to me, Ace. Please,” she said. “Help me.” And so he helped her. Gently he undressed her. He kissed her, slid his skin over hers.

“I wanted you from the first,” he told her. “Just like this.” He coaxed her onto him and helped her lower herself until he was deep inside her. He urged her to take everything they both wanted.