He released a longsuffering sigh. “You know better than that.”
“Maybe she didn’t do anything outright, but—”
“My daddy told me the day after it happened that I’d be real sorry before it was over with. He was right.” Hutch turned his eyes up toward the ceiling. “I’m glad of one thing. I’m glad it’s not Jade’s boy’s kidney that I’m rejecting.”
“Why do you say that?” she asked resentfully.
“Because if he is my son—and I like to think he is—I wouldn’t have wanted him to give up anything for me. Jade was right to tell you no when you asked her. None of us has a claim to her son. None of us is good enough.”
Donna Dee felt a stab of envy and jealousy that only Jade’s name could evoke. She clutched her husband’s hand. “Why’d you do it, Hutch? Did Neal goad you into it? Was it just one of those crazy situations that got out of hand?”
“Yeah, Donna Dee,” he mumbled dispassionately. “It was just one of those crazy situations that got out of hand.”
She could forgive him for rape easier than she could forgive him for desiring Jade. “There was no other reason you… you took her?”
Hutch hesitated, then softly replied, “No, there was no other reason.”
But Donna Dee didn’t believe the denial any more than she believed his forced smile.
* * *
A ray of sunlight fell across Dillon’s face. Sunlight didn’t filter into the windows of his bedroom in the trailer, so for a moment he wasn’t sure where he was or why he was feeling so damn good.
He opened one eye, saw the gauzy mosquito netting, and suddenly remembered why he should be feeling like the prince of the world today. He had freed Jade of her demons.
Wearing only a complacent smile and a night’s growth of stubble, he rolled to his other side, eager to pull her sweet body against his for another round of exorcism.
The other side of the bed was empty.
Alarmed, he threw off the sheet and flung back the netting. He called her name, but it echoed off the walls of the empty house. He stumbled to the window. There were no curtains or drapes, only a screen. He searched the yard, anxiety making his chest feel tight.
When he spotted her, he expelled a deep breath of relief, then leaned against the window casing to enjoy the view. She was dressed, but her feet were bare. The sunlight painted iridescent stripes on her tousled hair. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he called out to her.
She looked up toward the second-story window. “Good morning.” Her shining smile rivaled the new sun. She had pinched up several gathers in her skirt to form a bowl with the fabric. She had filled it with peaches. “Peaches fresh off the tree for breakfast. I’ve already had one. They’re delicious.”
“Not as delicious as you,” Dillon said to himself. The first stirring of arousal tweaked his loins. Turning back into the room, he located his jeans at the foot of the bed and hastily pulled them on. He didn’t bother buttoning the fly before jogging down the hallway. He leaped over the stairs that needed repairs and burst through the front door at a run.
The yard was empty.
“Damn!”
Suddenly, it struck him where he would find her. He ran through the formal garden. Sure enough, on the other side of it, he found her sitting in the swing beneath the live oak.
He was out of breath by the time he reached her—more from excitement than exertion. He placed his hands on the ropes supporting the swing and leaned down to kiss her for the first time since daylight.
Her lips were moist with peach juice, and, though only their mouths were touching, it was a potent kiss. When he lifted his lips from hers, he looked down at her through eyes that were drowsy with lust. She had knotted her shirt tails at her waist, but, to his delight, hadn’t bothered buttoning it. From his vantage point, he could see the enticing cleft between her breasts.
“I like your outfit, Ms. Sperry.”
Con
tradicting the formal address, he slid his hand into her shirt and covered her sun-warmed breast. She always reported for work looking like a woman of the world, a female executive on her way up. Even in casual clothes, she emanated a professional air.
This barefoot, shiny-faced, disheveled Jade was a real turnon, although this morning it wasn’t taking much to turn him on.
She leaned her head against his forearm and sighed pleasurably over his bold caress. “I couldn’t find my underwear.”
“It’ll turn up. Right now, I like you the way you are.”