Place Your Betts (The Marilyns) (16 page)

BOOK: Place Your Betts (The Marilyns)
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Tom’s shirt lay wadded-up on the ground next to the truck. She picked it up and had a strong urge to run after the receding car. Betts stopped. This must be the same impulse that prompted mothers across the world to lick their fingers and wipe chocolate smudges from grimy faces. Mollycoddling. After only a few days around her son, she’d become a mollycoddler.

“What was that about?” Gabe’s voice was close behind her.

She turned around and came eye-to-nipple with his chest. There was no avoiding temptation. Round pecs sloped down to a lean torso that rippled into perfect abs all topped off with a light sprinkling of golden hair. If Gabe had been tromping around the Garden of Eden shirtless, Eve would have offered him apple pie a la mode. Betts cleared her throat. “Did you say something?”

“I asked what was with the girl.” Gabe shrugged on a faded, ratty denim shirt but didn’t button it. He flipped open a cooler and pulled out a cold bottle of water.

Betts stared a hole in the closest dogwood tree. “Ever thought about buttoning your shirt?”

Gabe shook his head. “I’m hot.”

Betts bit her lip to keep from agreeing with him.

“What’s with the girl?” One side of his mouth turned up when he noticed her eyeing his chest.

“Her name’s Kaitlin.” Betts smiled slowly. She’d been caught. So what? “Tom’s had a crush on her for years.”

“He has a thing for her?” Gabe stared after the receding car.

Betts rolled her eyes. “Yep, Rain Man. He definitely…definitely does. Don’t y’all talk about things like this?”

“Nope.” Gabe leaned his right butt cheek against the tailgate and chugged his water.

Betts nodded to herself. One point for her. Tom talked about these things with her. She eased her backside up on the tailgate. “Please tell me that you’ve had ‘the talk’ with him.”

Gabe’s brow knitted into five very straight lines. “What talk?”

“The birds and the bees, girl parts and boy parts…making babies. Sex.” She grabbed the water out of his hand and sipped.

Gabe’s tanned face went a bit ashy. “But he’s never been on a date. For Christ’s sake, he’s only…” Gabe blew out a long breath. “Jesus.”

He looked at her with big, lost puppy-dog eyes. For once he didn’t have everything under control. It was nice.

Her pulse kicked up a notch, and a helplessness that was way too close to longing fluttered in her stomach. “Want me to do it?”

“No. No, I’ll do it. Man to man.” Gabe picked up a piece of hay and stuck it between his lips. “A man’s first is something he remembers forever.”

“For women too.” Betts didn’t look at him. “You never forget the first time.”

They both knew she was sitting hip-to-hip with her first time.

He was a good father and a good guy. It didn’t hurt too much to admit it.

Betts chewed on her top lip. They owed it to Tom to try and work out some semblance of a relationship—owed it to themselves—but in order to do that, they needed to resolve their physical attraction. She took a deep breath and jutted out her chin. “How are we going to handle what’s between us?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Sex.”

Slowly, his head swiveled around to stare at her. “Is that all you think about?”

Betts’s cheeks flamed. She had spent a good deal of time thinking about it. “The other day, we almost demonstrated the birds and the bees to a school bus full of kiddos. I think we should talk about it.” Betts touched his arm.

Gabe scooted off the tailgate. “Momentary lapse. End of subject.”

He pulled off his straw hat, wiped his brow with his shirttail, and spent the next minute dusting the hay bits off his battered Stetson. He cleared his throat. “This hay isn’t going to stack itself. Grab an end.”

“I don’t think so.” She waved her manicured nails at him.

It seemed the great communicator was done talking. So sex was off-limits? And his undying declaration of love hadn’t been forthcoming, not that she’d expected it, but a small part of her was convinced it was in there somewhere. It was more than the validation of the past, it was the faintest promise of a future, the chance to mean something to him.

“This is for
your
cows. Since you sent my helper away, grab an end.”

“Not in a million years.” Betts slid down and dusted off her rear end.

Gabe’s eyes zeroed in on her derriere, so she took her time dusting. If physical attraction was all that was between them, they needed to resolve it and salvage some civility for Tom’s sake. Maybe not now, but soon.

“Had the easy life so long, you can’t handle a little hard work?” Gabe gripped the metal wire holding the bale together and heaved it into the back of the truck.

“Sorry, Blondie, you’re on your own.” She could have smacked herself on the forehead. Blondie? With past intimacies as thick as the humid air, it was little wonder his old pet name had fallen out of her mouth.

“I always liked that nickname. Not too cutsie like cuddle-umkins or honey-muffin.”

“Yuck.” Betts wrinkled her nose. “Cuddle-umkins? There are certain things a woman never wants to hear from a man, and cuddle-umkins is right up there with ‘I’m pretty sure the rash isn’t contagious.’”

Gabe grinned. “Instead of Red, I should have called you sweet cheeks.” He smacked her lightly on the butt.

It was an observation, not an acknowledgement of some hidden sentiment.

Betts turned her back on Gabe. The walk to her RV was maybe a half mile at best. She could make it as long as she didn’t break her neck stumbling over the past. And if her high-heeled Jimmy Choo boots didn’t cripple her.

“I liked you better living in another state.” The smile in his voice caught her off guard.

She tossed a lock of red hair over her shoulder. “I liked you better shirtless.”

After a few more feet, she turned around. The sooner they got it over with the better. “My bus tonight after Tom goes to sleep. Bring condoms.”

Gabe blinked. “Huh?”

If she’d whopped him over the head with a two-by-four, he couldn’t have looked more shocked.

“Sex. You and me—”

“What about your mother?” Gabe called over his shoulder.

“She’s gone. Some urgent business in New Orleans.”

“Oh.” He sounded both relieved and apprehensive.

“After we’ve done the deed, I’ll see that it wasn’t half as good as I remember and be done with you. Call it hair of the dog.” Betts turned around and took a step, waited a beat, and then took two more steps. Nothing. The man stayed put.

Long-ago sentiment lingered in her heart, and she ached for him to reach out and claim it.

She picked up the pace but did her level best not to stomp or run or lollygag. Should Gabe happen to glance her way, he’d see carefree confidence, not anger or fear or longing. Betts kept her chin up, her shoulders back, and her eyes straight ahead. Her top lip wobbled once or twice, but she attributed that to the blister forming on her right pinky toe.

Would she always find herself walking away from him?

Hell, would he ever come after her?

All he wanted from her was sex. It was time to admit she needed more…something that reached past the physical. It took all she had not to look back at him.

 

***

 

Christ, Gabe thought she’d never leave. Even through the leather gloves, the hay bale wire pinched his palms as he hoisted the heavy block into the bed of his truck. Under the shade of his hat, his eyes stayed on her backside. It was the only thing soft about her. He cocked his head to the left, remembering the warm breast that had filled his palm. Maybe not the only thing.

If he were being honest, he had to give her credit for trying. She never backed down, not in the past and not now. When she wanted something, nothing got in her way. Now she wanted…mmm…well, his body.

He waited until she was on the other side of a clump of pine trees and was completely out of sight before he grabbed the cooler, emptied out the water bottles, and dumped it over his head. Freezing water and ice chunks did little to cool him off or wash away her indecent proposal. He shivered, and his teeth chattered. What kind of woman threw sex out there like she was making a to-do list? Go to the grocery store, gas up the car, have sex with Gabe, return Redbox movies. That’s just…it wasn’t…women didn’t…do things like that.

Did they?

His eyebrows went up. Betts wasn’t exactly the average woman.

Gabe nodded. He could think of many things to call her, but average wasn’t one of them.

Courageous, bossy, bitchy, determined…but never average. Nope.

He pulled off his hat and combed his fingers through his wet hair. Betts had waltzed right up to him and thrown down a challenge. Why?

They were still attracted to each other. Fine. Sex with her had been…well…more than sex. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It had been magic—perfect pockets of time where her big, green eyes swallowed him up and life stood still. He’d damn near killed himself a time or two trying to impress her. Shaking his head, he bent over, picked up a water bottle, and uncapped it. He wasn’t that naïve boy anymore.

He gulped down half the bottle. But it would be lying not to acknowledge that he did spend a good deal of time thinking about her. Granted, most of it was thinking up new ways to piss her off, but still, sometimes he remembered how it felt to make her smile. Occasionally, the urge resurfaced.

What would impress her now?

Betts thought sex would resolve their problems. He did have a powerful need for her. But...

One corner of his mouth quirked up.

Betts had always been able to muddy the waters, but she’d been crystal clear about sex. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as cut-and-dried for him. Betts had been his first love and the only woman he’d lost himself in. Hurt like that didn’t go away. It was always there, right beside the love.

 

***

 

Tom stepped out of the Mustang, closed the door, walked around to Kaitlin’s side, and pulled on the door handle. He could kick himself. Why hadn’t he grabbed his shirt? Like an idiot, he stood in the sunshine dripping sweat and smelling worse.

What was Kaitlin doing here?

“Thanks,” she said as she swung her long legs onto the grass, her skirt riding up.

Tom looked away. The skirt barely covered her, and she had great legs, but this was all wrong. She…was all wrong.

All the good guys are taken.
Her words from yesterday marched through his brain. “I’ll get my calculus notes.”

Tom turned his back on her and walked toward his house. The less time he spent with her the better.

“Wait.” Kaitlin ran up behind him. “What about that drink?”

“I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than waste time with me.” He opened the front door and stepped aside so she could walk in first. “Cold drinks are in the refrigerator. Help yourself. I’ll get those notes.”

He was too angry to be embarrassed by the secondhand furniture and the shabby cabin.

Tom stalked into his tiny bedroom. He should be excited because Kaitlin Smith was in his house and waiting for him. How many times had he fantasized about being alone with her? But she was only here for school, and he was a nobody. Tom gritted his teeth.

No, he wasn’t. Betts Monroe thought he was pretty damn special; hell, she’d taken his advice on a song she was about to release. Tom squared his shoulders and held his head high.

For the first time in his life, he knew he was just as good as the “in” crowd. Betts had told him that no one could make him feel second best but him. She was right. Kaitlin could have her notes and leave him in peace. Grabbing a green tee shirt from his top dresser drawer and his calculus folder, he walked into the living room.

Kaitlin stood with her back to him, looking at the framed photos on the mantel. With his calc folder, he tapped on her shoulder. “Here.”

Kaitlin turned around and took the folder.

Tom shrugged into the shirt while Kaitlin watched every move, her eyes lingering on his chest.

Seconds ticked away on the old rooster clock hanging above the kitchen sink.

Tom hooked his thumbs in his back pockets. “Is there something else I can do for you?”

Kaitlin smiled up at him and pointed to the sofa. “Aren’t you going to ask me to sit?”

Tom hunched his shoulders. “Why?”

“So we can hang out.” She sat down. “I don’t really need your notes. It was just a reason to come over.”

Tom shook his head. “Why would you do that?”

His eyes darted around the room. Was this some sort of hidden camera gag? The head cheerleader and the nerd—ha ha.

Kaitlin crossed her legs and continued to smile at him. When she looked at him like that, he almost forgot he didn’t like her. Tom swallowed and tried not to stare at her legs.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said yesterday.” Kaitlin looked down and chewed on her bottom lip. “I broke up with Lance. It’s over.”

Tom sat down on the opposite end of the sofa. “What are you going to do now?” He crossed his arms and refused to look at her. “All the good guys are taken.”

“Not all the good ones.” She inched closer. “You’re not seeing anyone.”

Tom swallowed the spit flooding his mouth. Was she serious? “I…um…don’t understand.”

Kaitlin put her hand on his knee. “I thought we could go out tonight.” She scooted next to him. “Bobby Nolan is having a party.”

The heat from her hand turned to ice. This was about Lance. She wanted to make him jealous, but Tom wasn’t about to play that game. If she wanted to spend time with him, they’d do it on his terms. “Nope. Not interested.”

Kaitlin’s hand froze, and she moved away. “Um…I don’t know what to say.” She stared at the floor.

“I’m not going to some party just to make Lance jealous.”

“Lance? Why would I want to make him jealous?” Her eyebrows shot up. “I told you. It’s over. You’re right. I deserve better.” Two spots of pink bloomed on her cheeks. “You don’t think much of me, do you?”

“Not at the moment.” There was nothing he’d like better than to wrap his arms around her and pick up where they’d left off in the third grade, but Tom wasn’t about to be used.

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