For Love and Family (13 page)

That initial kiss was very tender. But the one that followed was deeper. More serious. He slid his hand
from under her chin to cup the back of her head, to brush tiny strokes of his thumb up into her hair.

With a will of their own, her arms went around him and Terese pressed her palms to his shoulder blades while their lips met and separated and met again. Deliberately. Lazily. Leisurely.

At least it was deliberate and lazy and leisurely for a time. Until that was all replaced with a stronger need, a hunger that grew steadily, making those kisses more intense, more demanding.

Hunter moved completely between her and the counter, taking her fully into his arms, holding her tightly against his long, lean length and turning her so that their positions were reversed and it was Terese whose back was to the counter's edge as his mouth opened wide over hers and his tongue came to plunder and please.

Then he slid his hands down her sides, to her hips and back again, stopping at her waist where he tightened his grip and lifted her to sit on the countertop so they were at equal heights. Her legs straddled him when he finessed them apart so he could step into their V.

Terese had a fleeting thought of decorum—or the lack of it in that position—but it was only fleeting, chased away by too many other, better thoughts. And feelings. And sensations.

Once again her hands had a will of their own and they coursed from his back to his sides and up his front, ending at honed pectorals. It was a path she
longed for his hands to take on her body, to satisfy the nipples that were kerneled and straining for notice.

Hunter pulled her slightly forward, balanced on the edge of the countertop where he urged her to wrap her legs around him, to hook her ankles behind his waist as his kisses grew more frenzied.

Terese's fingers and flattened palms were in Hunter's hair one minute, tracing the breadth of his shoulders the next, the narrowing V of his back the minute after that. She just couldn't get her fill of the feel of that hard body that ranch work had perfected, so, without thinking about anything but the pure desire to be free of interference, she pulled his shirt tails from his jeans.

No sooner had she slipped her hands underneath to the satin over steel of his naked back than Hunter took her lead and reached under the hem of her own shirt.

Warm, strong, intriguingly callused hands pressed against her flesh and sent tiny shards of sparkling promise all through her, promise of more as he massaged and kneaded her back.

Terese arched her spine and let those tiny knots of desire that were her nipples meet Hunter's chest, hinting at needs she wasn't sure he understood.

But apparently he did, because while one hand braced her from behind, the other finally answered that need by covering her breast.

The only flaw was the bra she wore. Even that scant bit of lace was too much of a barrier and she
was so, so happy when Hunter reached inside the cup to take that engorged globe into his palm.

His mouth left hers then to kiss her neck, from a sensitive spot right below her earlobe all the way to her collarbone. Kissing. Nibbling. Flicking the tip of his tongue here and there and leaving little damp spots to air dry and send chills of delight dancing along the surface of her skin.

Then he kissed another path to the hollow of her throat, all the while kneading her breast, rolling her nipple between gentle fingertips, lightly pinching and pulling and driving her level of need even higher.

So high she began to fantasize about clothes being shed. About unbuttoning Hunter's shirt. About slipping it off those massive shoulders. About baring his chest to her gaze, to her hands, to her mouth. About unfastening his belt buckle, his waistband button, his zipper…

But that was when her old familiar self-doubts chose to rear their ugly head again, warning her that if she threw off Hunter's clothes the way she wanted to, her own would follow. That not only would he be left bare for her to see, but that she would be left exposed to him, too.

And she didn't think she could do that.

Not when they'd just spent so much time talking about his wife.

His
beautiful
wife.

“Wait,” she said suddenly, when she felt him reach to unfasten her bra.

He stopped instantly, resting his hands on either side of her waist instead. Hands that felt so fantastic she wanted them moving all over her, not stalled and still.

But now that her own lack of self-esteem had asserted itself once again, the feeling was every bit as powerful as her desires for him. Maybe more powerful because it took control.

“I think we'd better slow this down,” she said.

She couldn't look into his astonishingly handsome face and resist him, so she aimed her gaze much lower, bowing her head, and Hunter dropped his forehead to the top of it.

“Just when I was lookin' to speed it up?” he countered with a teasing, cajoling tone.

“
Especially
when you're lookin' to speed it up,” she said, echoing him.

She sensed more than saw his smile as her eyes took in the sight of his narrow hips, his long legs and thick thighs—that body hers was yearning for yet.

But she held fast to her resolve and made up a laundry list of excuses. “Johnny's just upstairs, and we're in the kitchen, and tomorrow is a big day, and—”

“And you're feelin' a little scared and self-conscious,” he added, letting her know he knew the truth.

“A little,” she confirmed in a soft voice.

He kissed the top of her head and left his lips resting there a while before he finally conceded and pulled his hands out from under her shirt.

Then he raised his head, took a step backward
and, touching her only on the outside of her clothes, lifted her off the counter to stand in front of him.

Then, with a resigned and reluctant sigh he said, “Come on, we better get you out of here before I decide to persuade you otherwise.”

He took her hand in his then and led her through the mudroom and outside to the cabin.

And the whole way Terese had to fight the regret that he'd done exactly what she'd asked him to do.

When they reached her door, she opened it and, following the same pattern from every other night, she stepped inside and turned back to face him where he stood in the doorway.

Only tonight he didn't hesitate to reach a hand to her face, brushing her cheek with his fingertips and making her nearly shiver with wanting so much more than that.

“Okay, there you are. Delivered safe and sound,” he said, his topaz eyes searching hers, his supple mouth curved into an indulgent smile.

“Thank you,” she said, not feeling a single ounce of gratitude as the longing to be in his arms, to be doing again what they'd been doing moments before surged within her to almost unbearable levels.

As if he knew it, he said, “You're sure?”

She wasn't. How could she be when she wanted him so much?

But still she repeated some of her excuses, “Johnny, Halloween…”

“You're afraid.”

Terese smiled and very nearly gave in.

But in the end she didn't.

Instead she said, “I'll see you in the morning.”

He sighed and chuckled. “In the morning,” he said.

Then his hand cupped the side of her face and he leaned forward and kissed her again, sending his tongue for one final taste of what she was missing. Then he stopped, pulled his hand away and said, “Good night, Pretty Princess.”

That made her laugh just a little. But all she said was, “Good night.”

She had to fight the inclination to reach out and stop him when he finally stepped away from the threshold, but she managed to force herself to move farther inside and shut the door rather than watch him go all the way to the house tonight.

Even without that last look at him he stayed vividly in her thoughts, in her mind's eye.

In her blood…

Making it run hot and wild through her veins with all he'd just aroused in her.

All she wished she'd had the courage to let him soothe and satisfy…

S
ince Hunter was leaving for Europe on Saturday, he needed time Friday morning to pack. While he did that, Willy worked the ranch alone, and Terese made an artichoke casserole to contribute to dinner at Willy and Carla's before taking Johnny trick-or-treating in their suburban neighborhood.

Johnny was keeping his dad company in Hunter's bedroom. The four-year-old was already dressed in his superhero costume even though the party at his preschool wasn't until that afternoon. He was sitting cross-legged at the head of the bed, bouncing slightly because he was too excited to sit still.

Despite that, Hunter decided to seize the opportunity to talk to the little boy. “So you're okay with
Terese staying here with you while I'm gone, right?” Hunter asked his son as he brought shoes from the closet, wrapped them and placed them in the suitcase.

“Uh-huh,” Johnny confirmed.

“Will you be all right with her taking you to the doctor next week?”

“No needles!” the child warned.

“No needles,” Hunter assured. “Not for you, anyway. Terese has to have some blood taken, but you don't. The doctor just wants to take a look at you and make sure you're doing well, that you don't have bruising or anything to worry about.”

“Okay, then. I'll go and I'll hold T'rese's hand when they take her blood.”

Hunter smiled at his son's bravery when it came to someone other than himself being stuck.

“I'm sure that will help,” he said. Then he got back to the subject they'd veered from. “You know that Willy and Carla will still be watching you, too. Willy will be here every day just like always.”

“I know it.”

“And you'll still need to do your chores without being told and to lend Willy a hand if he needs it.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And Carla will come in every morning when she brings Willy to work and every night when she picks him up. Plus you'll probably all have dinner together some nights or you might stay with Carla and Willy or they might stay here if Terese needs to go somewhere.”

“Where would T'rese need to go?” Johnny demanded as if that were unfathomable.

“I don't know. I'm just saying if something should come up and she needs to go somewhere—”

“Without me?” That was more unfathomable yet.

“Yes, without you. I don't think that will happen, but if it does, you'll stay with Willy and Carla.”

“Okay,” Johnny said, sounding as if that were too farfetched for him to waste any more thought on. Instead he began bouncing even more.

Hunter paused for a moment after tossing rolled-up socks into the suitcase. “Are you paying attention to what I'm saying here, big guy? Or are you just thinkin' about Halloween?”

The little boy shook his head rapidly. “I'm payin' 'tention. T'rese is watchin' me, and Willy and Carla will be here like usual.”

“Right. But if you don't want Terese to stay with you and you'd rather go back to our original plan and just stay with Willy and Carla—”

“No, I like this new plan. I like T'rese.”

Hunter had been worried that as the day of his actual leaving neared, Johnny might have second thoughts or insecurities about being looked after by someone he hadn't known very long. But that didn't seem to be the case.

“You really do like Terese, don't you?” Hunter said.

“Uh-huh,” Johnny said. “She's nice and fun and she smells good. Not like the cracks in the sidewalk.”

Hunter laughed. “Terese doesn't smell like the cracks in the sidewalk?”

“No. She smells good.”

“How do you know what cracks in a sidewalk smell like and who
does
smell that way?”

“I smelt them once. Me and Mikey did it at recess one day. And the janitor lady smelt just like that when she comed in to clean the mess Michael J.'s hamster made when we letted it out of the cage and it got scared.”

“I see,” Hunter said, silently agreeing with his son that Terese
did
smell good even though he couldn't compare the light, clean, flowery scent of her to either sidewalk cracks or the preschool janitor.

“Do
you
like T'rese?” Johnny asked then.

“I do,” Hunter said, without having to think about it first because it was a thought that was on his mind a lot lately. He did, indeed, like Terese. A lot. Maybe more than he should.

“Does that mean we can keep her?”

Hunter stopped midway through folding a shirt. “Can we keep her?” he repeated.

“Yeah, you know, like when you come back from your trip and stuff, can we keep havin'T'rese here?”

“Well, no,” Hunter said, surprised by the question and not quite sure how to answer it. “Terese isn't a pet, you know.”

“I know. She's a
lady,
” Johnny said, putting a silly inflection on the word. “But she could stay here and play with me and read to me and make more
cookies and chicken and smashed potatoes, couldn't she?”

“Well, no,” Hunter repeated. “She's just here visiting, like when Great-Aunt Rose comes to stay with us for a while.”

“Great-Aunt Rose smells funny, too. Not like the cracks in the sidewalk, but funny.”

Hunter refrained from explaining that his late wife's aunt reeked of mothballs and instead continued to make his point. “Great-Aunt Rose lives somewhere else and so does Terese. Terese has a job, and other people she knows and needs to see, and other things she has to do. She can't just stay here to play with you and make you fried chicken. She's only spending some time with us.”

That
us
rang in Hunter's ears. Terese wasn't there to spend time with them both; she was there to spend time with Johnny. But somehow, Hunter realized, he seemed to have lost sight of that.

Remembering it now, though, didn't change the fact that he was enjoying having her there as much as his son was.

Which was also probably something that shouldn't be true…

“Does that mean that when you come back from your trip T'rese will go away and we won't see her again?” Johnny asked, frowning fiercely at that possibility.

“No,” Hunter said. But this
no
didn't come out as quickly or as confidently as the others had because
it occurred to him that he didn't know what would happen with Terese when he got back.

“Will she come and stay with us again?”

“I don't know,” Hunter said honestly.

“Will she just come over sometimes, like Carla and Willy do?”

“Maybe,” Hunter said, wondering why it was that Johnny's suggestion that they might not see Terese again when he returned from his trip had caused his gut to clench.

He tried to ignore it and went on with what he'd been about to say. “But Terese doesn't live as close to us as Willy and Carla so it won't be as easy for her to drop in like they do.”

That fact didn't sit well, either. After having her with them or, rather, right outside their back door, it seemed unpleasantly odd to think of her all the way on the other side of Portland again.

“I think she should just live in the cabin forever,” Johnny concluded. “I'll keep makin' her pi'tures to put up because she loves 'em and says they're words of art—”

“You mean
works
of art,” Hunter corrected.

Johnny ignored the correction. “—and then she'll like that that's her house and she'll stay.”

You wouldn't think that if you knew where she came from,
Hunter thought, remembering suddenly that there were vast differences between where Terese had come from and where he was, vast differences between his life and Terese's life, vast differences in where they would go from here.

But he didn't want to think about that right then. He was leaving in less than twenty-four hours. He'd be gone for a full two weeks. And something as weighty as his relationship with Terese was more than he could deal with at that moment.

“Let's just concentrate on today and tonight and the trip for now, okay?” he told his son.

And that was exactly what he intended to do.

Although, despite how big and important the trip was, it still didn't manage to be uppermost in his mind.

Today and tonight were what kept creeping into his thoughts even when he was packing his bags.

Today with Johnny and Terese for Johnny's party.

Tonight with Johnny and Terese and Willy and Carla for dinner and trick-or-treating.

Later tonight, after Johnny was in bed, when he'd have time alone with Terese.

Oh, yeah, that was definitely a better thought than where Terese had come from or where they'd go from here.

 

“But how can you be the Pretty Princess if you don't wear the crown?” Johnny reasoned as Hunter parked in the preschool parking lot that afternoon.

As they'd pulled into the lot, Terese had removed the rhinestone tiara she'd been wearing all day to please her nephew. She didn't want to wear the rhinestone tiara into the school.

“I'll be the Pretty Princess again
after
the party,” she countered.

“But it's a Halloween party,” Johnny pointed out, turning
Halloween
into a singsong.

“But it's a Halloween party for the kids, not for the adults,” Hunter contributed as he stopped the engine.

“I promise that as soon as we leave I'll put the crown back on and I won't take it off again the whole rest of the day,” Terese added while they all unfastened their seatbelts and got out.

“Okay,” Johnny finally conceded with a hint of a pout.

The pout didn't last long, though, because he spotted his friend just then, shouted, “Mikey!” and darted off.

“Be careful of cars!” Hunter called after him.

But Johnny had already safely reached his friend and his friend's mother to walk with them through the parking lot.

As Terese and Hunter followed behind, Hunter leaned slightly toward her and said, “You're sure patient with him.”

“Are you kidding? He thinks I look like a fairy-tale princess and he wants to include me in his next-to-the-bestest-holiday—”

“The bestest being Christmas,” Hunter supplied what Johnny hadn't left out any of the times he'd told them that today.

“I'm flattered and thrilled,” Terese finished.

Hunter studied her for a moment as if he were marveling at something. Then he said, “You really
are, aren't you? Thrilled, I mean, that he wants you in on his second-bestest holiday? Even if it means he nags you and wants you walking around in public wearing a tiara?”

“I really am,” she said. “I take it as a sign that he likes me and that's nice.”

“Oh, he likes you, all right,” Hunter said as if he knew something she didn't.

But Terese couldn't question him about it because someone called his name from a distance and drew his attention.

Terese watched him wave at the person—another father—exchanging some private joke about a meeting at the hardware store. She didn't know what they were kiddingly yelling back and forth about but, then again, she wasn't trying to understand it either. She was too lost in trying not to be obvious about the fact that she was ogling him.

He'd gone for a haircut right after lunch and although his hair was still not extremely short, the dark blond mass had been trimmed to fall in a slightly more controlled disarray that made him look neat enough but still natural and untamed.

He was dressed in a heavy mustard-colored flannel shirt that brought out the specks of brilliant gold in his eyes, and she couldn't help wondering if it was as soft as it looked. She also couldn't help the itch she had to test that softness for herself. Or to test the hardness of the muscles the shirt barely contained.

With the shirt, he had on a pair of blue jeans that were tighter than those he usually wore, tight enough to encase his derriere and thick thighs in a way that left no doubt his was a body to be reckoned with. She was left wondering much too much what that body would look like
without
the hip-hugging jeans…

“Shall we go in?”

It was Hunter's voice that pulled her out of her thoughts, and Terese realized suddenly that she'd been caught staring at him. She jolted out of her reverie, hoping it would seem more that she'd been daydreaming than that she'd been scrutinizing him, and said, “Whenever you're ready.”

He didn't make any other comment so she could only hope she'd managed to fool him.

When they went inside, the school lobby was full of costumed children and their parents. Johnny rejoined them then, his freckled face alight with excitement.

“You guys are s'posed to go to the cafeteria and I'm s'posed to go to my room. Then we'll come in and do our parade for you. So me and Mikey are goin', okay?”

“Okay,” Hunter said. But he didn't move from that spot until he'd watched his son actually go through the doorway into his classroom.

Then Hunter pointed out the cafeteria and he and Terese did as Johnny had told them to.

In the cafeteria the grown-ups lined the walls, leaving the center free for the costume parade that would kick off the party.

It wasn't long before the preschool teacher came in, hit a button on a boom box to start marching music and the kids filed in, circling the room so everyone could see every costume.

The kids were all in high spirits, many of them preening and showing off and acting like whatever character they were dressed as.

Terese thought they were all adorable. The pure joy and innocence of a whole bunch of costumed four-year-olds was something she'd never experienced before and she delighted in watching the display almost as much as the kids delighted in their celebration.

After the parade there were games—some that the adults could participate in and others that they merely watched—and then refreshments were served.