Unfinished Dreams (9 page)

Oh Lord.
Reality hit full force with the simplicity of his words. Here it was. Her choice to go blindly with her emotions, make that highly overheated emotions, or decide if this was a man she wanted more than an afternoon tumble with. Speculating on emotions, and saying how you felt, were two very different things.

She closed her eyes, fighting what his hands were doing to her logic.

“You said it yourself, these feelings are natural,” he murmured against her neck.

“Yes, and did I mention, dangerous.” Tess tried to challenge him with a look, while her moral conscience lay panting in the wake of their kisses. Suddenly, something Merle had said echoed in the back of her mind, causing a twinge of doubt about his intentions.
Thirty seconds ago, you’d have let him carry you right up those stairs
, she mentally reprimanded herself.

“We’re neither one of us inexperienced Tess, but I think you know this is more than sex we’re talking about.”

“Is it?” She saw instantly his emotions sober and part of her wanted to go back to where they were. Unbridled, free to feel what they wanted with no thought to the consequences. But she’d squelched all that with her fear and suspicious thoughts.

His hand fell from her body and he smiled congenially. “When you’re ready and this happens for us, and it will, it’ll be more than great sex.”  He grinned, glancing away in that shy way she’d come to recognize and love. “It’ll be that too, of course.” Holding her chin, he searched her eyes and kissed her softly on the top of her nose. “I better go.

He withdrew the towel from his neck and handed it to her.

Tess was frozen, held captive in his smoky gaze and by his verbal declaration. She slid from his lap as he stood gazing down at her.

“You’re going to need more ice on that.” He grinned and held her gaze silently before he turned and walked out the door.

“Sure thing, right along with the rest of me.” Tess stood in the living room quaking in the aftermath of his seduction. She jolted as heard the spin of gravel from him roaring out of the drive.

Chapter Eight

Sex?
Gabe gripped the steering wheel, watching the lightening split the horizon. His body shivered remembering how she looked at him. Good Lord, loneliness was a powerful thing if it caused instantaneous reactions like what occurred between him and Tess.
What in the world happened back there?
One minute she’s cutting his hair, discussing style, and the next, he’s ready to carry her upstairs as if they were wed. The woman was lethal. There was no doubt about that. Somehow she’d managed to get under his skin when he wasn’t looking. He hoped she didn’t realize it yet, because he was still trying to figure out what bus hit him, to leave such massive skid marks across his heart.

He squinted through the fat raindrops, reminding himself to get new wiper blades. It was a futile distraction, which lasted all of forty-five seconds. He licked his lips, still able to taste her and shivered again, realizing he’d left his shirt behind.

Sex?
Gabe truly liked women, a lot in fact, but he wasn’t the type who liked one-night stands. The thought of what she must think of his character unnerved him and he was tempted to turn the truck around and go back to let her know how wrong he’d been to let things get to the point he had.

“You keep this truck pointed in this direction if you know what’s best,” he reprimanded himself as he slowed the truck to a stop. For a moment, he stared at the open gravel road ahead of him. As much as he was tempted to correct her misguided judgments of him, he was more afraid that he might just prove them right if he was near her another minute longer. “Okay, then do what’s best for her.” He pressed down on the accelerator, his thoughts in more turmoil than the stormy-looking sky.

Little else took precedence in his mind the rest of that day or the following week for that matter. He decided distance would quell the hormones raging through his body, and they should be kept as far from Tess as possible. With each passing day, he managed to convince himself that it was best for both of them. He honestly didn’t see a woman like her lasting for very long on the farm or be satisfied with small town living much longer. But to be neighborly and keep things friendly, he’d called her to let her know of his plans.

“Uh, Tess, I’m afraid Merle will need me here for a few days.” It sounded weak, even to him. “So I won’t be heading out your way for awhile.”
Why not just tell her that whatever happened the other day was a fluke, a mistake, nothing more and le’s just be friends.

“I understand.” There was a pause. “This has nothing to do with the other day, does it?”

Tell her now. Come clean and tell her what you think, how you feel. She deserves to know how you don’t want to risk anything permanent, because life, especially involving things you love, is never permanent.

“No, ‘course not.” It was a boldface lie and it made him realize that he needed to back off and gain perspective. It also served as a healthy dose of guilt, which didn’t help his already uncertain feelings. He had to remind himself this woman would most likely hightail like a scared jackrabbit back to her city apartment one of these days.

Meantime, he’d be wise to keep his distance. Travis and his family going on a camping trip was the perfect excuse for Merle to need the extra help in the shop. He tried not to hear the curiosity in her casual reply.

“Well, whenever you’re ready, its fine. The repairs will still be here.”

He ended the conversation, replacing the receiver to the wall phone, wondering if he’d already succeeded in creating irreparable damage between them.

* * *

Gabe eyed the muffler, wondering if he could replace part of the pipe or have to tell its owner they’d need a new one. He hoped it was replaceable because he had no desire to speak one-on-one with the car’s owner.

“Gaaabe?”

The singsong voice echoed in Merle’s garage and he closed his eyes.
Damn. Did widow Crane have radar where he was concerned?

“Did you find out my little problem?”

That would take a psychology degree, lady.
He turned his head and closed his eyes wishing Merle had not chosen to go to Velda’s for lunch. Maybe if he was quiet, she’d think no one was around.

“Gabe?” Her voice deepened, just a little more insistent.

He turned his head to the side and came face-to-face with Mrs. Crane. She was on her knees with her cheek nearly flush to the floor. Her smile indicated how thrilled she was to have found him.

He guessed the fact he was alone was an added bonus.

“Ms. Crane, sorry didn’t hear you come in.” He lied with a cheerful smile. There were not many things in his life he had a healthy fear of, but this woman reminded him of a female praying mantis.

He scooted out from under the car and scrambled to his feet.

She straightened with the practiced ease of a ballerina and brushed off her skin-tight Capri pants. The crop top she wore was a fashion more suited toward a teenager, but Ms. Crane pulled it off quite nicely.

Gabe averted his eyes from her flat midriff. Maybe just once he should take her up on her obvious offers. Maybe it would purge the fever that had plagued him all week thinking about the woman that occupied his former house, showered in his former shower, hung her dainty pale pink under things on his former clothesline—

“Gabe?” The sultry voice pulled him from his reverie and he caught Mrs. Crane’s appreciative gaze at his chest. Suddenly, he wished he’d worn something heavier than his torn t-shirt.
Something closer maybe to a zipped parka.
He tore his gaze away from her hungry look and focused on the wrench in his hand.

“I’ve got a bit more work on this, Ms. Crane. Um…can you give me a little more time this afternoon?” He swallowed, tapping the wrench to his palm. When he looked up, she stood so close he could see the tiny cracks in her fading eyeliner. Her hand traveled lightly up his arm, as she smoothed her palms flat to his chest. She pressed her body closer as she smiled up at him, her orange mint breath tingled his nose.

“Honey, I’ll give you as much of my time as you need.”

Gabe hesitated. He leaned against the car as far as he could without appearing rude. He considered dropping the wrench on her pretty painted toes.

“
Mrs
. Crane.” He enunciated the
Mrs.
hoping it would jar her conscience, to remember her four late husbands with some respect. No such luck.

Her fingers touched his bottom lip. Things began to spin wildly out of control. Though he knew the woman spelled trouble, her body was maybe—no definitely—worth a certain amount of risk. Which he was not taking any of these days.

With the skill of handling a rattlesnake, he reached out and placed his hands on her upper arms. He eased her away, not wishing to hurt her feelings, but dammit he had enough chaos going on inside of him without adding Mrs. C to the mix.

“Mrs. Crane—” he started, but she interrupted him with her signature sexy pout.

“Ginny.” She smiled as she trailed her red fingernail down his belly, stopping just short of his jeans snap. Her gaze rolled lazily to his.

Gabe closed his eyes and refocused his purpose. The woman was not going to make it easy to refuse her and she knew it. Gabe knew the desperate look all to well.

“Ginny.” He swallowed, glancing sideways at a movement from the corner of his eye.

“Gabe?” another voice, more startled, issued from the garage door opening.

He turned and saw Tess clutching her wallet, apparently searching for someone to pay.

She looked down obviously flustered that she’d interrupted something and quickly rifled through her wallet. Her incessant chatter proved to him that she pretended that coming upon the scene had not rattled her, but he’d already seen the initial look of shock on her face.

“I-I bought ten dollars worth of gas.” She looked up with a quick smile, her gaze darting toward the woman who stood possessively close, her nail flicking his jean snap impatiently. He knew how it looked. It was as plain as day on Tess’s face.

“Oh, look, I only have a twenty.” Her voice sounded shaky and she wouldn’t look at him. “Just keep the change. I’ll get it from Merle later, I guess. Sorry,” she muttered and turned on her heel letting the bill fall from her fingers.

He watched it flutter to the oily garage floor. “Tess.” He found his voice a minute too late as usual and part of him wondered if it were better this way. What did he have to offer her anyway?

She hurried away and he stared for what seemed an eternity at the twenty-dollar bill that lay on the cement.

“Someone you know?” Ginny looked up at him with her large green eyes. Her hand rested comfortably over his bellybutton and the sensation nauseated him.

“Look, I need to get back to work. If you’ll excuse me.” He extracted himself from her grip, walked over, and picked up the twenty. Stepping to the opening of the garage, he scanned the service station area, but Tess was gone. Something inside where his heart should have been twisted in pain, its sensation lasting but a moment. “I’ll have Merle call you when your car’s done, Ginny.”

He crawled back under the car, separating himself once more from the world.

* * *

Her tears made her even angrier. Tess knew driving the excessive speed on the loose gravel was not wise, but she’d done more than one unwise thing in her life lately, hadn’t she? Whatever had been implied about Gabe’s reputation with the ladies that night at Dusty’s was apparently the truth. Gabe Russell was a rogue all right. He was a sweet-talking, tantalizing, two-timing cowboy who knew how to melt a woman’s bones and break her heart all in the same breath.

She smacked the wheel, frustrated for once more succumbing to a man’s charm. When would she learn? Hell, were there even any honorable men left on the planet?

She peeled into her gravel lane and tore up the drive, shredding tufts of grass in her path. Jerking the car door open, she slammed it as she began to walk, head down, not caring where she was going, where she might end up. She’d walk until she was no longer angry, until
he
was completely out of her system. She halted where she was and looked around, realizing she was hundreds of yards from where the tiny farmhouse stood on the hill. She mused she might walk to Alaska if she wasn’t careful.

She looked at the house—her house. The place where, during a rainstorm a few days ago she’d given her heart to the man in the black Stetson. Tess kicked a dirt clod with the toe of her shoe and dropped to the ground on her knees.

Wasn’t it independence that she’d sought? Wasn’t this her chance to start over, own a home, and have a little property with it? There’d been no plans for a man to share that new life. Why should that have to change?

She stared at the horizon. Fall had taken over the once green trees and lush fields and now those fields, mown and harvested awaited spring planting. She picked up a handful of soil and crumbled it through her fingers. She’d never been a weak person and she wasn’t about to let some country boys’ heart stopping smile cause her to be one now. Standing, she wiped the back of her hands over her face, brushing away the evidence of her tears. Visions of
‘Gone With the Wind’
flashed in her mind. By God if Scarlet could do it then why the hell not her?

It was a matter of refocusing her priorities that was all. She’d expertly handled other people’s organizational problems for a living, certainly she could figure out her own life.

Her thoughts came to a screeching halt as she remembered this was Friday. Jack mentioned coming for his visit this weekend.
Dammit
. She sighed in frustration and took off in a dead run for the house. Maybe she could reach him before he left the office. If there was one thing she did
not
need right now, it was another male to contend with.

* * *

“Betsy? Thank God, you’re there. Can I speak to Jack?”  Tess held the phone between her hands, frantic and breathing hard from her run.

“He’d be flattered to hear you panting over him Tess honey, if he were here.”

Tess’s heart sank.
Please let him be at a meeting.

“Where is he?”  Her voice was weak, her intuition already preparing her for what she was about to hear.

“Why, hon, he took the entire afternoon off. He said something about going out to buy a pair of jeans, so he wouldn’t feel out of place in the country.”

She could hear Betsy’s grin over the phone and she wanted to cry, but she firmed her resolve.

“When did he leave?”  Her voice sounded flat even to her.

“About an hour ago. Tess, Jack sounded a whole lot more excited about seeing you than what I’m hearing coming from you.”

“Betsy, I’m not interested in Jack.”  Tess raked her fingers through her hair hoping to pull an answer to her dilemma out of thin air. It wasn’t working.

“Is it because of that tall, cool cowboy, I met?” Her voice turned teasing. The woman was just not getting it, thought Tess.