“There’s no end to your orders. You’re no longer in the military, remember?”
“And you never were in it and you don’t take orders worth a damn,” he said, smiling and shaking his head.
“That definitely isn’t so. Here you are, staying with me. I didn’t think that one up. I’m not getting on the ladder. I didn’t make that decision. I’m getting an alarm because of you. I’ve moved upstairs because of you.”
“You won’t let me kiss you. I have to catch you by surprise and then you run me off,” he said, moving closer and looking into her big green eyes.
“Not so,” she said, smiling. “You kiss me every time you decide you want to and you know it,” she said, poking his hard stomach with her forefinger as if to emphasize what she was saying. “Mmm, that’s impressive,” she said, poking him again.
“Let’s see if you’ll let me kiss you just any old time,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and leaning over her. His mouth covered and opened hers, his tongue going deep as he leaned farther until she clung to him and kissed him in return and he forgot their silly conversation. Holding her tightly, he straightened up and his arm tightened around her waist while he slowly ran his hand down her back and over her bottom. Then his hand drifted up and he unbuttoned her blouse as he kissed her. He caressed her breast, pushing away her bra.
She finally caught his hand and held it. “Tom, wait. Don’t complicate our lives. You know where we’re headed—for more hurt,” she whispered, looking up at him. He gazed at her intently. He was aroused, hard and ready. He wanted her and he didn’t think she would argue. As he gazed at her, he thought about the rift between them and knew she really didn’t want his loving.
“You’re right. We’ve hurt each other enough,” he said softly. “I’ll get the windows open and start painting downstairs.”
Five
Tom stood on the new ladder, painting the front parlor ceiling, while Emily painted upstairs in one of the big bedrooms. He’d been at it for hours. At a certain point, he had changed to cutoffs and a sleeveless T-shirt because the air-conditioning was off since the house was open.
As Tom worked he thought about her living in the big house all alone. She might be thinking the same thing about him on the ranch, but he never felt alone there. He worked with guys all day and he could go find someone whenever he wanted to. And when they divorced he would be able to get a date when he wante
d. But at this point in his life, he couldn’t imagine wanting to go out with someone. The thought of Emily doing so was another deep hurt.
His estrangement from Emily had left Tom numb and hurting, and his life would have to change a lot before he would ever want to get involved with someone again. He was surprised how well he was getting along with Emily, because it really hurt to be together and he knew it hurt her. Their divorce had merely been tabled until later but definitely loomed in the near future.
He thought about the big, expensive mansion they had built on the ranch. He didn’t want to go back to it, yet it was a tie to Ryan—it was where they’d brought him home from the hospital. Where they’d rocked him to sleep and read to him, sung him songs.
What could Tom do with the house? He had no idea, and he didn’t intend to worry about it now.
He wiped his sweaty forehead and tried to concentrate on his brushstrokes and keep working steadily. When he finished this side of the room, he was taking a break and going to find Emily.
After another hour of work, Tom ordered pizzas for dinner. When they were done with their break they returned to painting.
It was after 11:00 p.m. when he went to find her again in the front parlor. She was on her knees, painting the baseboard, and his gaze roamed over her trim, very sexy ass. He inhaled deeply and knocked on the open door.
* * *
Emily looked up and sat back on her haunches as Tom entered. “You’re just in time. I’m getting tired of this and I think the paint fumes are getting to me even with the windows open and the fans blowing.”
“Let’s knock off for tonight, sit on the porch and have a cold drink, and just relax. It’s do-nothing time.” He crossed the room to her and took her brush. “I’ll clean the brushes.”
“And I’ll get the drinks,” she said, standing and looking at the painting she had done. Tom put the lid on her paint can and then picked up the other brushes.
“Let’s get out of here. We need fresh air and I want a cold beer.”
“I want a drink, too. See you on the porch.”
She got there first and sat in one of the big wooden rocking chairs. She had brought beer for Tom and iced tea for herself. It was cool on the porch, and in minutes her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Tom came out and picked up a small table with their drinks to place it slightly in front of their chairs and then moved his rocking chair closer to hers.
“Now the view is better here,” he said when he sat down.
“Liar. You can’t enjoy the view in all this darkness. You just wanted to sit closer together,” she said, amused by him. “It’s nice out here.”
“Yes, it is, and it’s nicer closer together.”
“It’s wonderful you’ve been helping the Valentines. You’re a good guy and I still feel so foolish for believing that email. That was a huge mistake.”
“Forget that, Em. We worked it out, and Natalie invited us to a picnic in the park next Saturday, if you want. I told her I’d call her after I talk to you.”