Her Sweet Talkin' Man (9 page)

He smiled back. “Too noisy. Nola and her customers are up all hours taking care of business, but I have to get up early in the morning. I'm a workingman, you know.”

“You're much more than that, Ace,” she said as her son came close and saw the bunny and his eyes
lit up with joy. “I wonder if you even know all that you are.”

He looked over Timmy's head. “Don't make the mistake of making me into more than I am, Crystal.”

“Don't worry, Ace. You're safe. I'm not after your heart.”

In another world and another lifetime, he would have replied that he didn't have a heart. For some reason he couldn't fathom, that line just didn't seem right here. And for the same reason, he felt a sharp pain pass through him right in the region where his heart should have been.

But he was sure it was a temporary pain. Soon enough it would pass. Right now it was important to get things back to normal, keep things light and flirtatious the way he always did.

“I know you're not after my heart. You're after my body,” he told her.

He'd thought to shock her, to make her blush, to get things back on familiar ground.

“Could be you're right,
darlin',
” she drawled.

For the second time today he could almost have blushed. Instead, he simply let heat steal through him at the thought that tonight he and Crystal Bennett would be sharing a roof. Surely only good things could come of that.

 

Ace was in her tiny backyard setting up a temporary rabbit hutch while Timmy lay on his stomach talking to Bert through the mesh cage.

“How did you learn to do that?” Crystal asked, coming up behind Ace, who had made a quick trip
home for his clothes and was now clad in jeans and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His forearms were strong and tanned against the snowy cotton.

He glanced up from his work as she came near and offered him a cup of coffee. “My stepfather kept rabbits as a hobby. Taught me all I know.”

“Including how to talk to one.” She smiled as he gave her a startled look. “I couldn't help noticing that you and Bert were having a conversation earlier.”

Was that a sheepish look on Ace's face? Was the man who could slay a thousand women's hearts with a sexy smile and discuss bustiers and lace stockings without a moment's hesitation looking slightly embarrassed? “Rabbits can be high-strung and nervous creatures. Talking to them helps soothe their fears just the way it soothes a human being's.”

The way he soothed her whenever he spoke? Oh, this man had depths she wasn't sure she even wanted to plumb, good depths, quiet strength, and the ability to calm and reassure and protect frightened creatures of all kinds. But he had issues, too. Scary, unwavering, angry issues. And his biggest issues lay with this town and the people who lived here and the subject of marriage and family. He was a man who felt very strongly about offering promises he couldn't keep. So he kept moving.

Best not to think about that right now. There were other things to think about. Frightened rabbits and the safety of her son. And now another facet thrown in. If they were going to adopt the rabbit, it would become a family member. Timmy held tightly to things; he loved hard. If they took this rabbit—and it ap
peared there was no turning back now—they must not let it get sick or lose it.

“Will that hold him?” she asked, nodding to the pen.

“For tonight. I'll build something more permanent when there's time, but for now this will do. My stepfather taught me well,” he said reassuringly.

“Was he a good man, then?”

Ace opened the rabbit cage and gently removed Bert, releasing him into his new home. “He'll want to sniff around and get used to things,” he told Timmy. “But if you talk softly to him like you've been doing, it will help him.”

Timmy looked up at Ace with adoring eyes as he settled in front of the hutch.

Ace turned to Crystal as they moved back toward the house. “My stepfather was the best man I ever knew, a principal in the private school where my mother worked in the cafeteria,” he said. “He loved her and he worked hard to make her feel like a queen, even though she insisted on maintaining her job. It was a rotten job, but I don't think she ever felt completely secure after what Ford's father did to her. My stepfather loved her unconditionally, but she'd been fighting prejudice and poverty for so long that by the time he came along it was something she couldn't shake.”

“Prejudice because she had an illegitimate child?” she asked softly.

“Yes, and because we were poor. The money that Ford's father gave her was enough to cover her
mother's medicine in her last days and a little of her hospital costs when I was born, but not much more.”

Crystal frowned at that. “That doesn't seem right.”

He shrugged. “None of it seemed right, but she was just a housekeeper, a nobody, a girl who'd made a foolish mistake in falling for a rich Carson, a man above her station, and Ford's father promised her that if she stayed, he'd make sure that she and her baby were shunned. He was a Carson. She knew that he could do it. As it was, things weren't much different working for Newton Academy. I was allowed to go there only because my mother worked there, but…well, let's just say we never exactly fit in.”

“The kids at the school didn't accept you?”

He shrugged. “I was an interloper, a pretender, someone who didn't belong and was only there on charity. They never let me forget that.”

His jaw was tight, and she knew that there was a world of meaning in his last statement. The sudden smile that didn't reach his eyes told her that he wasn't about to go into details, either, but she could just imagine that he'd learned how to fight protecting his mother's good name and defending his right to attend classes at a rich kid's school. Those skills he'd used against Branson had been honed young.

“But you had a stepfather who loved you, didn't you?”

He nodded. “Yes, I did, and I thank the heavens for that. While he was with us before he died, he tried very hard to make every day of my mother's life and mine a blessing. We were lucky he found us. I don't
think I'll ever meet another man in the world I admire that much.”

And yet, she couldn't help thinking, there was a man across town he was related to. Several men, in fact. Men she'd always thought of as admirable even though she'd known they were very human. They made mistakes.

She wished the barriers between Ace and the other Carsons weren't so high. He was a good man, and he deserved to have a loving family.

Surely there was some way for him and for them.

But when she turned and saw the way Ace was looking at her, she pushed the thought from her mind.

“I didn't mean to tell you all that, and don't go getting that look in your eyes,” he warned.

“What look?”

“That woman look, that I-want-to-fix-the-world-and-make-everyone-happy look. I'm content with my life and my ways, Crystal. Leave it alone.”

For a moment the wheels of her mind spun. Was she so transparent? Apparently. And obviously she was predictable, too, and she didn't like that one little bit. She didn't like the fact that she had upset him, either, and the only cure for that was to take his mind off the topic at hand.

“Well, I'm not happy,” she said. “Not at all.”

He blinked wide and his mouth fell open. She should try this unpredictable stuff more often. Aim to be mysterious and quirky.

“You're not happy? Why is that?” His voice was dangerously low. She could tell that he was prepared to go out and slay dragons, to fix things the way he
had accused her of trying to fix things. The irony made her smile.

“I'm hungry. We haven't eaten yet, you know.” She grinned.

He smiled back. “All right, I'm going to report your obscene phone call and the incident at the day-care center to the police. Then we'll eat,” he said, his voice dropping low on the last sentence. His words had sounded strangely like
All right, then we'll make love,
she couldn't help thinking.

“I'll just go make something,” she said, turning to flee, but he caught her gently by the arm.

“I've invaded your house. I don't expect you to slave for me,” he said.

“It's just cooking.”

“I'll take you out.”

“We can't eat out every night. It's expensive.”

“Crystal.”

“What?”

“I can afford it.”

“It just doesn't feel right, having you pay for me and Timmy to eat.”

“It's nothing. It's just money,” he said.

“I can take care of us,” she insisted.

“You must be hell on dates,” he muttered. “I'll bet you insist on paying.”

She almost gasped. “I don't.”

“Well, then.”

“This isn't a date.”

“Pretend it is. Pretend that I'm the last guy you went out with. I take you and Timmy to a restaurant and I pay.”

“I'd rather not pretend that you were the last guy I dated.”

He raised a brow. “You want to clarify that?”

She shrugged. “Not much to tell. He tried to stick his hand up my dress and his tongue down my throat at the restaurant, and I went home before I'd even eaten.”

Ace's countenance darkened. He swore beneath his breath. “Lady, you can do better than that. No wonder Fiona is trying to fix you up with every man who comes down the pike. Any man has got to be an improvement.”

She felt a small trace of indignation. “I've had worse.”

He raised one brow and smiled. “I don't intend to be worse.”

She couldn't help but smile back. “I'm not a charity case, Ace.”

“Lady, you are the farthest thing from a charity case that I've ever seen, but I have to agree with my half sister when she says that you need some serious courting.”

“You and I are not going to get serious,” she reminded him.

“No, we're not, but we're going to have some fun together while I'm here. Might as well, since I'm going to be making my home on your couch. And you can get a decent meal or two out of the deal,” he coaxed. “Come on, Timmy will like it.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know my soft spots.”

“Not entirely as of yet, ma'am, but I'm hoping to
learn what they are,” he said with a mock leer. And then he kissed her full on the mouth.

No question about it, she needed to stay on her toes around Ace Carson. He was a charmer, and she had a feeling she was about to be completely charmed.

L
ess than an hour later, Ace closed the door on the police officer who got into his squad car and drove away. He knew he looked like thunder, but he couldn't control himself. He knew that any ranting and raving was the last thing Crystal needed to hear right now, so he took a minute to pull himself together. When he turned back toward her, she was looking at him a bit anxiously, as if
she
wanted to help
him,
when it was supposed to be the other way around.

“Well,” she said, “I'm no worse off than I was before, you know. They've said that they've tried to contact Branson for questioning about the incidents, but he seems to have disappeared. Beyond that, they can't just go looking for suspects on what little we've given them. I didn't really expect more than that.”

He supposed he hadn't, either, but he had at least hoped to be able to offer her some reassurance, some sense that she had more protection for Timmy and herself than just him.

“You're too easygoing,” he said.

“I'm not.”

He chuckled at her insistence. “You are, and you're not fooling anyone by pretending otherwise.”

She crossed her arms, then leaned forward until she would have been nose to nose with him if she'd been taller.

“I'm not a pushover. I know what I want and I go after it.”

“Really?” He arched a brow. “Well, what do you want, darlin'?”

She lifted her chin defiantly and frowned. He could almost hear the wheels spinning as she struggled to think of a good answer. “I guess I want…food. You promised Timmy and me food, or are you reneging on the deal?”

Ace grinned. “I deliver what I promise. Always.” Easy enough to do when he seldom promised anything.

Crystal leaned back and gazed at him with trusting eyes. “I believe you,” she said solemnly.

That simple. That easy. She believed him even though she didn't know him.

“Come on,” he said, taking her arm and moving her along, his voice a low growl. “First we feed you and then we teach you something about trusting men too easily.”

“I already know about that,” she whispered. And yes, he supposed she did. She didn't need someone like him giving her lessons.

At the family restaurant forty-five minutes later, Timmy's eyes were like bright moons. After they'd eaten, the waitress had brought him crayons and a sheet to color and make into a hat if you punched it out and folded it the right way. He was scribbling madly.

“What's that?” Ace asked, pointing to an indistinguishable blob.

“Bert.”

“And that?” Crystal asked, gesturing to a sort of egg-shaped thing with sticks coming out of it.

“Ace.”

“Um, a very good likeness,” Crystal said.

Timmy looked up at her and beamed. He turned to Ace, and Ace knew he was supposed to say something appropriate.

“No one's ever made a finer picture of me, wildcat.”

Timmy sighed with contentment. He picked up a stray French fry and accidentally dropped it on his picture. The look of horror and woe that transformed his smile was immediate. His lower lip began to quiver. He turned desperate eyes to his mother.

“It's okay, honey,” she said. “Everybody has accidents.”

Ace knew that it wasn't okay for Timmy by the lost look on his face. Maybe it wasn't the worst thing in the world, but heck, the little boy had had some bad luck in his life, not the least of which was a father who didn't want him. Someday he'd learn about that, and it would haunt him. And today he'd been yanked out of day care and away from his buddies early. Ace was not going to let anything spoil Timmy's party mood tonight.

“An accident? You did that on purpose, didn't you, wildcat? I saw this thing on TV the other night where the artist paints with food. You must have seen it too.”

Timmy looked a bit confused and taken aback. But then he looked down at the French-fry stain. He smiled and reached for the ketchup.

Crystal caught his wrist in a gentle grip. She gave Ace an exasperated-mom look. “No painting with food,” she told them both. “This is a restaurant.”

Timmy frowned. Ace sighed. “Shoot,” he told Timmy. “I guess she's right. If we started painting with food, then everyone else here would want to do it, too, and then ours wouldn't be so special. As it is, you got in one good French-fry mark to make yours stand out. I guess we'd better be happy with that. Looks great as it is, anyway.”

Timmy studied his work. He nodded slowly. “I made it. By myself.” And then he smiled shyly at Ace.

“You sure did, pal. Let's take it home now.” Timmy clutched his French-fry-smeared paper hat close to him as they exited the restaurant.

At home, Crystal put her son to bed. She came out with an armful of blankets. “That was pretty quick thinking back in the restaurant. Where did you learn how to handle boys on the verge of tears?”

She was looking so lovely in pale gold with the moonlight streaming in through the windows, catching the red lights in her hair. Her eyes were filled with wonder and gratitude, as if she thought he held some special key to her son's soul. He had to be honest.

“I don't know beans about handling boys, but I've walked away from my share of women. I always try to leave them happy.”

She should have flinched when he said that. Maybe she should have simply turned and walked away.

Instead, she smiled slightly, a slow sad smile. “I wonder if you said that for my benefit or for yours.”

“It's the truth.” And it was.

“I believe you, and I guess I should be offended, but…it's nice to hear the truth, even if it isn't exactly a nice truth.”

Of course. She'd heard nothing but lies from men. Now she was willing to settle for unfortunate truths.

He couldn't help himself then. He moved toward her with no thought to making her happy, only comforting her. He had to comfort her. He wanted to make her forget the lies that other man had offered her. Taking the blankets from her arms, he slipped his hands to her waist and pulled her in slowly until her body barely touched his.

“You always deserve the truth, always the truth,” he whispered. And he took her mouth with his. Slowly. Very slowly. He pulled her closer.

And she came to him. She didn't resist. She was soft in his arms, warm against his heart.

He pulled back then, looking down into her eyes.

She smiled. “That was very nice. You must have made a lot of women happy.”

And just like that, he felt like the jerk he was.

“Not so many,” he confessed. “Definitely no women like you.”

Crystal frowned in confusion. “What makes me different?”

He played with a soft strand of her hair. “You're
apple pie and ice cream, Sunday picnics, walks in the woods holding hands. Very…”

“Ordinary?”

“Special.”

“Hmm, that sounds like a lie.”

He shook his head slowly. “Believe me, it's not.”

“But you don't do apple pie and ice cream and Sunday picnics?”

“Not usually.”

“Why?”

“Those kinds of women are too open. They get hurt by men like me.”

“So you don't want to hurt me?”

Again he shook his head. “Definitely not.”

“But you liked kissing me?” She seemed uncertain.

He grinned. “Most definitely. I loved kissing you.”

“I liked kissing you, too.” And she surprised him by sliding her hands up his chest, rising on her toes and pressing her lips to his again.

For five seconds his senses simply exploded. Sweet sensation, her softness, the honeysuckle scent of her, her mouth beneath his, all drove him insane and had him groaning. Then he caught her, slid his hand beneath her hair and deepened the kiss.

Instantly his body reacted. He was aware of every inch of her pressed against him, how small she was, how delicate, how absolutely enticing.

He slid his hands down her sides, tested the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips, the way her skin felt beneath his fingertips.

“Ace.” She whispered into his mouth.

“Mmm?”

“Don't stop kissing me. Just because of the apple-pie thing.”

He pulled back. “Not if the whole town of Mission Creek marched in here right now and demanded that I cease and desist.”

Then he kissed her again slowly, savoring the flavor that was distinctly Crystal. His lips still on hers, he slid his fingers beneath the top button of her blouse. His fingers stroked lower, outlining the swell of her breast as he deftly slipped open two more buttons and slid his fingers against the lacy edges of her bra.

“Let me look at you,” he whispered against her lips as he bent and kissed the curve of her breast. Gently, reverently. Her pale firm flesh drove him wild and he freed the rest of the buttons and flicked open the catch on her bra, exposing her beautiful rose-tipped breasts to his view.

Glancing up, he saw desire mixed with fear in her eyes.

“I won't hurt you,” he promised, and he swore that he wouldn't.

“I believe you.”

And then he slid down her, knelt before her, drawing her down to her knees, too. He bent, took the tip of one breast into his mouth.

A shudder went through her as she trembled in his arms.

He held her closer and kissed her again, only his shirt shielding her skin from his.

From another part of the small house came a clinking sound, then water running.

Crystal gasped. She fumbled with her bra. “Timmy. He gets up now and then for water.”

“Shh, sunshine,” Ace said, ignoring the deep throbbing of his body as he quickly fastened the clasp she couldn't seem to manage. He took two deep breaths and slowly buttoned every button. “It's okay,” he said. “Do you need to go help him?” He could still feel her heart thudding against his fingers.

She shook her head. “No, he has his own special cup he likes to use. He wants to do it himself.” But she looked distraught.

He caught her chin in his hand. “It wasn't your fault,” he said. “I started this.”

Crystal frowned. “Now who's lying? I definitely kissed you back and I asked you not to stop.”

“You're a woman, Crystal. You're human.”

“I'm a mother first.”

He smiled. “And you're a damn good one. Just don't be too hard on yourself for this, all right? You may have kissed me, but I kissed you first. And I was the one who went beyond kissing. You didn't ask for that.”

“I didn't stop it. I enjoyed it.”

Oh, he wished she hadn't said that, because he was just beginning to get his desire back under control. Now the fires were flaring again.

“I'll take the blankets and set up on the couch,” he said. “Let's just put tonight down to stress and nerves and the demands of the past few days.”

She thought about that. “Yes, you're probably
right. That's all it is. I certainly don't go around acting like this normally.” Her voice was strained, uncertain. She moved away and left the room, clicking the door closed behind her.

He waited until she had gone and then he sank onto the couch. He could still feel her on his fingertips, taste her on his lips. The ache to have her and complete what they'd started went deep. It made him restless.

She said she didn't go around acting like this normally. He should feel good about that. She didn't go to pieces in every man's arms. She had been saving up her passion.

For whom? Him? A man who had a bad history with the Carsons, her friends and the most prominent members of this town? He couldn't escape that, couldn't forget that past. It had colored his whole life and had changed his mother's life forever. He didn't want to be a part of this community or a part of the world Crystal inhabited. He couldn't spend his life trying to meet the requirements. He'd tried to do that when he was a boy. Tried and failed. No, he definitely could never be an apple-pie-and-ice-cream kind of man, which was what she really needed.

The passion between them was real and undeniable, but it wasn't what she needed at all.

He should keep his distance. For tonight at least he could do that. He could stay right here on this couch. And he would.

Hours later, tossing and turning on the too-small couch, Ace reiterated his intention. He would stay here on this couch, away from Crystal.

But damn, it wasn't going to be easy. The night was proving long and restless.

And who knew how he would get through tomorrow or the next few days?

One thing he knew. If she needed apple pie and ice cream then, for the next few days while he was here, he would give her that. At least that much. He'd do it because he didn't want her worrying that he'd invade her bed and then leave her alone again afterward.

For the next few days he would be the perfect gentleman.

No touching Crystal.

Deep in his soul, he howled an objection.

“Tough, buddy. Get used to celibacy. She's not yours to take.” And he turned his back on his objections, wrapped the blanket around him and rolled over.

In the night he dreamed of Crystal wrapped up in the blanket with him. No surprise that she was naked.

Some things, like dreams, a man just couldn't control.

 

“What is that?” Crystal asked the next evening when Ace pulled up in a luxury van and wrestled a huge box out onto the ground.

“Nothing much.”

She crossed her arms. “That's not much of an answer.”

He flashed her a smile. “I just thought it might be nice for Timmy to get out and have some fun, so I thought maybe a drive-in. My mom and my stepdad
used to do that now and then. Timmy's a little young. So I thought maybe the drive-in could come to him.” He pulled out his keys and slit the box, sliding out a big-screen TV.

“Ace.” That one word sounded like a warning.

“He'll like it,” he said, and he almost sounded like Timmy pleading for a favor. She almost laughed at the look on his face.