Paris or Bust!: Romancing Roxanne?\Daddy Come Lately\Love Is in the Air (13 page)

“I suppose she did, although she stopped painting after a while,” he said. “I think she romanticized the place to herself, and by the time she figured out that she’d boxed herself in, it was too late. But I’m just guessing. She died when I was little.”

“Did she paint the landscape in your parents’ living room?” Jody had admired it when she visited there.

He nodded. “She had quite a talent and a great imagination. Dad was nothing like her.”

“Your father had his own gift,” Jody said. “He always had a kind word or a joke to brighten my day. You’re more like him than you realize.”

She wondered if she’d said the wrong thing, because Callum changed the subject and began asking for details about the ranch. Or maybe he simply wanted to know more. He listened intently as she described how much she’d learned the last year as the cycle of seasons rolled past, from summer haying to winter repairs and spring calving.

While she talked, Jody felt both satisfaction and the heavy weight of responsibility. With her students, she’d been able to measure their progress, and she could count on a paycheck. A ranch struggled to survive. She no sooner finished a chore than it needed doing again, and there was always the risk of a natural disaster or other financial setback.

She tossed her head, letting her hair billow on the breeze. This was the life into which she’d been born, and she’d put down roots here.

Even so, she hoped right down to her bones that soon she and the boys would be kicking up their heels beneath the spires of Notre Dame. Although she might lack Callum’s daring, once in a while she got restless, too.

“Y
OU’RE HUMMING
,” he said approvingly. Callum enjoyed the way Jody often hummed or sang under her breath as if a musical current ran through her veins.

She blinked in surprise. “Was I?”

He let the melody reverberate in his memory before identifying it. “It’s ‘Under Paris Skies.”’

“Oh.” She blushed.

All the while she’d been rhapsodizing aloud about her life as a rancher, she’d been dreaming of Gay Paree. “I understand how it feels to wish you were somewhere else,” Callum said.

“I don’t wish I were somewhere else!”

“You never wish you were in a classroom?”

“That’s cheating,” she told him. “I was able to indulge my dream for a while. Maybe I’ll do it again when I get too old for physical labor, although standing in front of kids all day isn’t exactly easy.”

“When we were in college, I half expected that you’d decide to come to California, too,” he said. “You seemed interested in the challenge of working in a larger school district, and you used to pepper me with questions about everything from Disneyland to the movie industry, as if I had some secret fount of knowledge.”

“I was just curious because you were going there,” Jody said. “I wasn’t interested for myself. I’ve always known where I belong.”

“You’ve always known where you felt safe,” Callum corrected. An unexpected thought occurred to him.
The place you’ve always belonged is with me.

That didn’t make sense. They’d spent so many years apart that in some ways they hardly knew each other. Yet in other ways, it felt as if no more than a few months had passed since they’d attended college together.

“Let’s have our picnic over there.” Jody pointed out a stand of trees. “There’s a stream through the middle. It’s one of my favorite spots.”

“I’m sold.”

Inside the dappled grove, they set the horses free to graze. With their reins draped on the ground, the well-trained animals wouldn’t wander far.

There was no need for words as he and Jody spread a blanket on the ground and helped themselves. In addition to the sandwiches, they’d packed carrots and cookies, which vanished swiftly.

“Is my hair a mess?” Jody asked as they relaxed afterwards. She wore it loose, the way he preferred.

“A little tangled maybe.” Callum plucked a twig from one curly strand. “Hold on.” He retrieved a folding comb from his pocket and, moving closer, began to work through her tangles.

“You don’t have to do that.” Despite her words, Jody didn’t pull away.

“I don’t mind.” Sitting behind her, he slid closer until she fit between his upraised knees. “You smell like roses.”

“I smell like my shampoo.”

“Could you be a little less romantic?” he teased.

“We’re supposed to be testing our ability to remain platonic friends,” Jody reminded him.

How could a man remain platonic with a softly built honey of a woman grasped between his thighs? Callum knew better than to even hint at his response to her, though, or Jody would whisk out of his grasp so fast she’d take the comb with her.

He searched for a neutral topic. It wasn’t easy, because he kept picturing her in the shower, shampooing her hair with her arms raised and her full breasts thrust prominently the way she’d done after they made love. Correction: after the first time they made love and just before the second time.

“Do you think I should cut my hair?” she asked.

“It’s beautiful this way.”

“It’s messy and it makes me look like an idiot,” she said. “The reason I wear it all one length is because Louise can cut it.”

“You don’t look like an idiot,” Callum said. “I know actresses who would kill to have hair like yours.”

“You’re lying!” Even with her back turned, she radiated disbelief.

“With the split ends trimmed off,” he amended.

“I do not have split ends!”

Callum laughed close to her neck, and felt her quiver in response. “I made that up. Seriously, you have lovely hair. Lovely everything else, too.”

“No, I don’t. I could lose some weight,” Jody said.

“What?” To him, her womanly figure had always been the standard to which he compared all others. “You’re built just right.”

“I don’t look like a model, and don’t lie to me about it.” Although he couldn’t see her face, Callum imagined the way her lips must be twitching as she awaited his response.

“I agree. You don’t look like a model.” He played the comb lightly against her scalp, doing his best to tantalize her. “If I put my arms around a model, all I feel are bones.”

Her shoulders drooped. “You put your arms around them a lot, don’t you?”

“Hardly ever. Let me show you what I mean.” Setting the comb aside, he stroked Jody’s cheek and trailed the back of his hand along her jawline. When the tension eased from her muscles and she issued a small sigh, Callum bowed his head until his nose grazed her neck. “There’s no one else I want to be this close to.”

“Me, either,” she whispered.

He collected her in his arms. Although his body tightened instinctively, Callum didn’t want to rush. Every moment with Jody was precious, he mused as he kissed her earlobe.

The breeze sifted around them, filled with the scents of fields and trees. From nearby came the rustling of the horses as they fed. Callum didn’t remember when he’d known such utter peace.

His arm brushed the swell of Jody’s breast. Her nipple hardened and he rubbed his wrist up and down against it.

She arched her back, thrusting her breasts harder against his arm. That, he gathered, was a definite Go.

As Callum unworked the buttons of Jody’s blouse, it occurred to him that this whole platonic business didn’t appear to be much of a success. He didn’t mind in the least.

CHAPTER SIX

I
N TWENTY-NINE YEARS
of hard living, Jody had accumulated her fair share of wisdom. For the chance of making love to Callum again, she tossed it all to the wind.

Her muscles grew heavy as his fingers opened her shirt and smoothed down the bra straps. When he cupped her bare breasts, exquisite sensations spread all the way to the spot between her thighs.

His palms squeezed her before easing down to stroke her ribs and waist. Jody heard his breathing intensify and his heart pound in counterpoint to her own, creating their own private music.

She turned her face until their lips met. Gently, Callum tipped her chin upward and introduced his tongue into her mouth. It probed her with the tantalizing sweetness of a flute.

Freed from her inhibitions against touching him, Jody gave herself over to exploration. Silvery blond hair drifted between her fingers, a startling contrast to the prickliness of Callum’s jaw. She nibbled on his neck and then, after prying open the buttons on his shirt, rubbed her nude torso against his sculpted strength. Together they swayed to a subtle, intensifying beat.

Rising on her knees, Jody rubbed her cheek across the top of Callum’s head. His hands smoothed her jeans down her hips.

They should stop, she thought distractedly. Maybe in another century or so.

Callum fondled the curve of her bottom. “Magnificent,” he whispered.

There’s too much of it,
Jody wanted to say, but that wasn’t true. At this moment, she relished her feminine curves because they gave him pleasure. And he gave it back to her in waves as he tasted her.

Jody released a small cry, like a clarinet tone that gets lost in a soaring symphony. How did she dare to open herself to Callum this way? Yet how could she do anything else?

When she almost couldn’t bear any more pleasure, he laid her on the blanket and stripped off his pants. What a beautiful sight he was, even better than in memory, with sunlight and leaf-shadow highlighting his splendidly toned body. Best of all was the tenderness on his face and that grin of pure, unabashed happiness.

She loved everything about Callum, from his long legs and taut masculinity to his exuberance. She wanted to urge him on, and yet…

“Wait.” Jody rolled over.

“I’m not sure I can.”

She reached for her jeans and, from the pocket, produced the protection she’d brought in case of something she hadn’t wanted to admit was possible. “Remember what happened the last time we did this?”

“Thank you for thinking ahead.” He reached for it, unfolded it and slipped it onto himself. The sight of him so ready for her carried Jody past a moment when her good sense almost reasserted itself.

Callum rolled her atop him, lifting her easily. She gripped him with her knees and they came together in a fierce thrust that vibrated through her like the clash of cymbals.

Callum gasped. “You’re beautiful.”

“You,” Jody whispered.

He gave her a puzzled look. “What about me?”

“Gorgeous.” That one word encompassed it all. The man electrified her, as he had from the first moment she’d seen him. He was the wild clarion call that stirred her long-suppressed sense of daring.

Callum rocked his hips rhythmically, moving himself into her and out, slowing the tempo and then speeding it again. Atop him, Jody floated into a dimension ruled by sheer sensation.

Just when she thought she might actually levitate, he shifted away and slid her onto her back. As he rose above her, cool air replaced him between her legs. The absence was intolerable.

Jody wrapped her legs around him, determined to take charge. She drew him downward, wriggling and arousing him with a dance into which he joined eagerly. She could read the joy on Callum’s face as he lost his battle to prolong the exquisite agony of delay.

When he entered her again, it was with the wild abandon of a conductor bringing a symphony to its crescendo. Jody writhed against him, giving herself to his power.

Callum’s mouth closed over hers. Their tongues entwined as the climax seized them both. It roared through her, a thrilling tangle of melodies and percussion that she wished would never end.

The last note reverberated into silence. Jody lay spent, eyes shut, as Callum stretched out beside her. She wanted nothing more than this.

Gradually the caress of the breeze, the chirp of a bird and the nicker of a horse transformed paradise back into a ranch. Callum changed from her dream man to the boyfriend she couldn’t keep. Before long, he would be flying away from her arms.

Maybe she would be flying away, too, to that fantasy known as Paris. But it could never be as perfect as this, Jody thought.

For a foolish while, she lay hoping to hear Callum say
I love you.
That would be the ultimate magic.

It occurred to her, when the words didn’t come, that they’d just banished any possibility of a marriage of convenience. What could they substitute? More years of silence and separation?

Curious about Callum’s reaction, she peeked at him. On his nose sat a butterfly, its black-and-yellow wings undulating. He stared at it cross-eyed, and she laughed. Disgruntled, the insect caught a current and bumbled away through the air.

“Only you would have a butterfly land on your face,” Jody said.

“Bugs like me. What can I say?”

Apparently horses liked him, too, because King Arthur, tired of grazing, ambled over to him. Callum reached out and scratched the gelding’s ears. “We should pick up the boys soon. I don’t want them to think we’ve forgotten them.”

Jody realized to her surprise that she hadn’t given a moment’s thought to her sons all afternoon. How ironic that it was Callum who’d remembered.

“I think you’re bonding with them,” she said. “They’ve taken a liking to you, too.”

“Jeremy’s the most resistant.” He pulled on his underclothes.

“I’m surprised you noticed.” Although reluctant to end their idyll, she reached for her clothing, too.

“They have distinct personalities.” Callum shrugged into his shirt. His chest gleamed in a ray of sunlight, and Jody wished he wouldn’t cover it. But he did. “I can’t wait to see how they develop. It should be a fascinating process.”

“I’m sure it will be.” She wanted to share the miracles with him day by day. First, though, they had to figure out how they were going to handle this relationship. “Where do we go from here?”

“They’re at the Curly Q. We can take my car if you like,” he said.

“I didn’t mean literally,” Jody said. “You proved your point. We can’t have a marriage of convenience. What are the other options?”

“One thing at a time.” He stretched lazily. “What happened just now was fantastic. It’s going to be a while before I can think clearly.”

There was no arguing with that, Jody reflected. As for herself, she wasn’t sure she could ever think clearly where Callum was concerned.

T
HE TWO ADULTS
cooked dinner while the boys watched a videotape. When the meat was browning, Callum slipped his arms around Jody and nuzzled her neck, but otherwise he behaved himself. He had to set a good example for their sons.

After the meal, they sat around the table and played Go Fish. Callum, who normally reveled in winning any game he attempted, found it was more fun to yield to the boys. The odd part was that, while Ben had accepted him more readily, it was Jerry who kept asking him for help while his brother turned to Jody.

They were in the middle of their second game when Jerry got a huge grin on his face. “Anybody got any kings?” he called.

“No fair!” Ben said.

“Give me your kings!”

Callum intervened before a fight could erupt. “Sorry, Benjamin. If your brother asks for a king, you have to give it to him.”

“But he hasn’t got any kings!” Ben answered. “I just drew my third. Mommy has number four!”

Callum and Jody exchanged glances. The rules of the game must have escaped Jeremy. It was understandable, at his age.

“Let’s see.” Callum examined the boy’s hand. Sure enough, he didn’t have any kings. “I’m sorry, son. You have to have a card before you can ask for the ones that match.”

“I want the kings! The kings are best.” Storm clouds gathered in his son’s blue eyes, darkening them to a smoky gray.

Is that how I look when I get angry?
Callum wondered, but brushed the thought aside. “Aces are the high cards, Jerry.”

“I want the daddies!”

“The daddies?” Callum asked.

“That’s the kings.” Ben was in agreement with his brother for once. “The queens are the mommies.”

“You mean the mommies are second best?” Jody asked with feigned hurt. Or maybe it wasn’t entirely feigned.

“They’re the best cards, too,” Ben said diplomatically. Jerry nodded.

“If kings are daddies and queens are mommies, what are the jacks?” Callum asked.

“They’re us,” Jeremy said. “You know, boys.”

Jody spread her hands in amazement. “I have no idea where they got this notion.”

“The tens are girls,” Ben added.

“Hold on.” Jody folded her arms and glowered. “The tens are below the jacks. This is a sexist hierarchy.”

“What’s that?” Ben asked.

“Your mom’s right,” Callum said. “Kings and queens are equal in this house and so are jacks and tens.” After a moment’s thought, he added, “Just not in card games.”

“I want the kings,” Jerry said doggedly.

“I had them first!” His brother stuck out his tongue.

The next minute, cards tumbled to the carpet as Jeremy lunged at Benjamin. It took both adults to untangle them.

“Now what?” Callum asked as he threw Jerry over his shoulder.

“They both get time-outs,” Jody said. “Jeremy for attacking his brother, and Benjamin for sticking out his tongue and provoking him. You go that way and I’ll go this way.” Holding Ben’s hand, she marched him toward her bedroom.

“Well, big guy, I guess it’s you and me,” Callum said.

“You’re hurting my tummy.” When this didn’t bring an immediate response, Jerry added, “I might throw up.”

“Down my back?”

“And into your pants. I did it to Mommy.”

“I’ll bet she loved that.” Callum set the boy on his feet. “Okay, kid, march!”

The little guy’s stubborn expression hadn’t softened by the time they reached the boys’ room. “How do these time-outs work?” Callum asked.

“You have to go away.” Jerry’s mouth quivered.

“Is there any rule that says the daddy can’t stay here with you and have a time-out, too?” Callum asked.

Jeremy shook his blond head. As the boy plopped onto his bed, a slow smile warmed his features. “I guess I won.”

“How’s that?”

“You’re the king and I got you.”

Callum lowered himself beside his son, bending so as not to bump his head on the upper bunk. “What was this fight really about?”

“Ben says you like him better than me.” Jerry wiggled around on the quilt as if unable to hold still. It might, Callum suspected, be a condition endemic to four-year-old boys.

“Where did he get that idea?”

“You let him play with your ’puter.”

“Only because he invited himself into my room.”

“Can I play on it?”

On the point of agreeing, Callum remembered that this was supposed to be a punishment. “Not until you’ve served your time. You attacked your brother, remember?”

“Can I play later?” Jeremy asked.

“You bet.” He supposed he ought to leave now. The last thing he wanted was to interfere with Jody’s discipline program. “I don’t know about this household, but where I grew up, the rule was that time-outs also included a hug. Is that true here?”

“Yes. Unless I’m mad,” his son said.

“Can I have my hug now, in case you get mad later?”

The boy considered the question solemnly. “Okay.” He threw his arms around his father’s neck.

Drawing Jerry onto his lap, Callum hugged and rocked him. It took a moment before he realized that this rush of tenderness was love, a different kind of love than he’d ever experienced before. He wanted to protect this little boy so fiercely that he would do anything, give anything, sacrifice anything for his sake.

When the boy started wiggling again, Callum released him. “I’ll see you later.”

“Okay.” Jeremy beamed.

In the front room, Jody said, “You’d better go see Ben. He feels neglected because you went with his brother.”

“They’re amazing.”

“I’m a little jealous,” Jody admitted. “Although I know that’s ridiculous.”

“I’m the new toy. Of course they find me more interesting, temporarily,” Callum said. “But they’d be lost without their mom. So would I.”

The words slipped out before he had a chance to reconsider. Well, so what? He’d meant it.

Ben kept him entertained with tales of adventures at the Wiltons’ ranch. Later, after the twins apologized to each other, they took turns at the computer and Jody then read them all a storybook. Her animated face and voice cast a spell over Callum.

When the twins were asleep, he went to his room to work on the laptop. It was rare for him to spend a whole day, even a Sunday, without accessing the Web site and reading his e-mail. Tonight, however, he couldn’t concentrate.

Hoping another cookie would help, he wandered into the kitchen. Music reached him from Jody’s room. Oh, to heck with work, anyway, he thought, and went to pay her a visit.

She lay on the king-size bed where he’d hugged Ben earlier, reading a novel while country music played on the radio. Beside her on an end table lay a monitor, which he realized must be tuned to the boys’ room.

With her hair spread across the pillow and her inviting curves outlined by a silky nightgown, Jody might have been a seductress from an exotic tale. His own private Scheherazade.

“Hi,” she said, bookmarking her place.

“Want company?” Callum sat on the edge of the bed. “If you’re not too tired, maybe we could…”

“Shut up and kiss me,” said the most enchanting woman in the world, and she pulled him down beside her.

This time, there was less urgency to their lovemaking and more sweetness. They amused each other slowly, teasing and talking. Callum wished he could extend this intimacy forever, but at last passion overcame his resistance.