Heartbreak, Tennessee (18 page)

Amber covered her face
with her hands for a moment, her pale slender fingers trembling.

“I acted rashly,” she
said again as she slowly lowered her hands. “I’m sorry. I know I was out of
line.”

Mac relented. He
couldn’t bear to see her suffering. “You weren’t rash,” he said gruffly. “You
just said what was on your mind, right?”

“But about your father—”

“Don’t.” Mac stopped
her with a motion of his hand that spoke volumes. “Let’s not go down that road.
It’s something it seems we’re not ready to handle right now.”

“Agreed,” Amber said
softly. “Mac, I don’t know what to say. I want to be with you. Now. Me coming
here, to Heartbreak, it’s as if I was suddenly ready to return, even if I didn’t
know it. I feel like I’ve been given this one chance, and if I don’t take it, I
might not get another.”

“You want to be with
me now,” Mac repeated slowly. “How would your boyfriend feel about that?”

“Boyfriend...” Mac saw
genuine confusion on Amber’s face. “What are you talking about?”
”The one
who called the motel the other day,” he said impatiently. “I was listening,
remember?”

Amber bent her head. “It’s...complicated.
But he’s not my boyfriend, not any more.”

Despite himself, Mac
felt a rush of hope at her words. So she
didn’t
have another lover. She
was unattached, free.

And she said she
wanted to be with him.

He took a step
forward, and before his mind caught up with his body, another, so he was
standing inches from Amber.

She looked up at him
expectantly, her lips parted, her sweet breath on his chest. The tremor that
had shaken her hands before now seemed to have traveled throughout her whole
body, the faintest trembling.

He reached out a hand
to still it.

Amber closed her eyes
as Mac touched her cheek. She raised her lips to meet his, feeling her knees
buckle just as Mac slid an arm around her waist and pulled her to him, hard,
tenderness replaced by urgency as his own lips came down on hers and demanded
release.

Their kiss was fire,
tongues twining in desperate hunger. Mac’s hands slid down her back, his strong
fingers crushing the soft fabric of her dress, pulling her closer. She pressed
herself into him, aching to feel his body against every inch of her own.

A low moan escaped her
lips as Mac wound a hand through her hair and pulled, tilting her chin up so he
could cover her neck with kisses that weren’t gentle, no not quite gentle, but
that caused the ache in her body to escalate into a roar.

Mac lowered her to a
wooden bench that was striped with glowing bars of moonlight coming in through
the beams of the porch. Then he knelt down, slid a knee between her own, parted
her to press his denim-clad groin against her. He bent and gently raked her
breasts with his jaw and teeth, through her dress, though her body responded as
if nothing separated them, nothing at all.

Amber slid her fingers
into his hair and struggled to keep from crying out. Mac was here, his body
entwined with hers, loving her. Nothing had ever felt more right, nothing
anyway since they’d shared love beneath another bright moon all those years
ago.

Back then, they’d
shared the ecstasy of a love that was meant to last forever.

Forever.

The word seeped into
her mind, even as waves of sensation washed through her as Mac’s hands and
mouth worked their magic on her. Forever...that’s what she wanted, she realized
with a sudden certainty.

“Stop,” she managed to
choke, even as her own body defied her, twisting and responding to Mac’s
masterful attention.

“Mac, please, stop,”
she said again, begging this time, knowing that if he didn’t she would not have
the power to pull away.

But he did. He raised
his head to look into her eyes and his hands stilled on her hot skin.

“Is something wrong?”
he asked, eyes clouded in confusion and need.

“No,” she said, trying
to slow her breathing. “Yes. I mean, maybe. It’s just that—what does this
mean to you? I mean, is this a one-time thing? Loving me like this—does
it mean something?”

She watched as his
eyes slowly cleared, cursing herself for being unable to voice her feelings.
Is this forever?
That’s what she
really needed to know, but the words wouldn’t come.

“You’re asking me...”
he said softly, slowly, belying a struggle of his own.

“If you want to be
with me,” she finished quickly for him. “I mean, more than tonight. Tomorrow,
and the next day, and the next.”

Answer me, she pleaded
without words, frozen in his stilled embrace, their bodies still melded
together, the heat of their skin subsiding slowly. But he did not. His
expression was unreadable, his jaw tightening ever so slightly.

“Amber, I can’t—”

He didn’t finish his
thought—but he didn’t have to. Shame flooded Amber as she wriggled out of
his grasp, the hard wooden edge of the bench pressing painfully against her
back. She felt blood rush to her face as she eased out from under him and
struggled to right her disheveled dress.

I can’t
, he had said, and it didn’t really matter what came next. I can’t be tied
down, I can’t make any promises, I can’t predict the future—didn’t they
all mean the same thing? Thanks, but no thanks; don’t let the door hit you on
the way out.

After all, he’d said
those words to her once before. “I can’t,” he’d answered her when she begged
him to run away with her, when her world was crashing down around her. Hot
tears sprung to her eyes as she gave her dress a last furious tug and backed
away from him.

“Amber, come back
here,” Mac said, rising, not bothering with his own clothes. “Don’t go like
this. We need to talk.”

Sprinting down the
stairs to her car, Amber looked back over her shoulder once. She saw Mac standing
on the edge of the porch, hands fisted at his side, anguish etched into his
eyes as he watched her go.

And she ached to go
back to him, to fall into his arms again, to love him and drink in his love for
as long as he would give it.

But knowing it would
have to come to an end, she couldn’t bear to go back. And the ache inside her
was something that all the talking in the world couldn’t fix now.

CHAPTER
TEN

Amber clutched the
folded scrap of paper as she sat on the edge of her bed and waited. If only she
could just turn out the lights and let sleep dull the pain inside her.

But there was one more
thing to take care of tonight.

For the tenth time she
unfolded the creased paper she’d found shoved under her door. “Room 110,” Dean
had written. “Call me as soon as you get back.” The words were underlined
several times, and punctuated with a bold exclamation point. So like him. Everything
was always urgent when Dean Hamilton wanted it done.

Of course, she
had
kept him waiting for several hours
tonight. In truth, the minute she pulled up in front of Mac’s place, thoughts
of Dean vanished from her mind.

And if things had gone
a little differently, she might not have come back at all.

That would have been
some mess to leave for Sheryn, who’d no doubt exercised all her charms to
smooth things over already. Sheryn always came through in a pinch. And she didn’t
even like the man.

Feeling a little
guilty, Amber had dutifully called Dean’s room. But first she allowed herself a
shower. The cool water washed away the bits of leaves and flecks of dirt from
the porch, and went a long way toward soothing her pounding heart.

But it did nothing to
erase the sensations still prickling her skin. Her palm, where Mac had placed
hot kisses that trailed up her arm. Her earlobes, where a light nip had sent
bolts of response through her body.

The hot trail his
hands had traveled down her body, teasing, engulfing, inflaming along the way. Then
stopping, leaving them both in a frenzy of unmet need.

Remembering just
ripped open the fresh wound on her heart.

After her shower,
Amber removed every trace of makeup and slipped into a pair of shorts and a tee
shirt. She intended her discussion with Dean to be a short one, and afterwards
she planned to slip under the covers and sink into sleep.

A knock brought her
out of her reverie, and Amber shoved a stray lock of hair out of the way before
getting up to open the door. She glanced at her watch: nearly one in the
morning.

“Hello, Dean,” she
said wearily, stepping back for him to pass. He was wearing the sort of thing
he usually reserved for his ever-more-adoring public: tight black jeans, black
boots, a black silk shirt with silver cording at the yoke. His jet-black hair
was perfectly combed. The late hour didn’t seem to have any adverse effect on
his good looks.

“Hi, angel,” he said,
brushing her cheek with a kiss and then turning slowly, surveying the room. “This
place is a real dive, isn’t it? No hangers in the closet, I had to call down
for extra towels, and there’s no outlet in the bathroom for a hair dryer.”

It was true that the
motel was nothing special, but Amber found herself bristling at the comment. “Well,
this isn’t Nashville,” she said as lightly as she could manage. “Folks around
here don’t generally spend a whole lot of time in front of the mirror.”

“What’s that supposed
to mean?”

“Oh nothing,” Amber
said, wishing she could take back the subtle dig. Dean had done nothing to
deserve it. “You’re right, this is a one-horse town, and the motel is hardly a
four star resort. I guess I’ve just been away from home too long. I’m sorry. It’s
just been a really long day...a really hard day.”

“Yeah, Sheryn said you
had to go see the mayor, drop off some stuff. Doesn’t he keep regular business
hours?”

Amber colored
slightly. “It—he had to work me in this evening. His, um, schedule’s
pretty tight.”

Amber regretted the
lie immediately. There was no longer anything between her and Dean, so why hide
her involvement with Mac? Besides, whatever it was that they had shared over
the last few days looked like it was ending as quickly as it had begun.

On the other hand, the
less said about Mac, the better. Why dwell on a chapter in her life that she
planned to bury? To have returned to Heartbreak and thrown herself at the one
man she’d sworn she would avoid, to have shared his bed, to have come close to
making love to him under the stars tonight - this behavior was definitely out
of character for her. It was best forgotten.

“Yeah. Well. I wish
you had told me when I called. I’ve got a session in the studio in the morning.”

“Oh, Dean, I’m sorry. When
we talked on the phone, I had no idea that Gray would be able to arrange this
meeting for tonight.” Another lie—each was a little easier than the last,
to Amber’s dismay. And yet, focusing on Dean took her attention away from Mac,
so she forced herself to sit up straighter and concentrate on the conversation.
“When do you have to be back?”

“Eleven or so tomorrow
morning, so I’ll be cutting out of here by five. Hope I can find a damn cup of
coffee at that hour.”

“I’m really sorry,”
Amber repeated. She’d have to make it up to him back in Nashville, perhaps take
him out for dinner. Or lunch—a nice lunch between old friends. Ex-lovers
though they might be, there was no reason why they couldn’t enjoy each other’s
company now and then.

“Here, why don’t we
sit down,” Dean said, plopping down on the bed and patting the spread next to
him. Amber suddenly became aware of how thin the material of her T-shirt was,
and wished she’d kept her bra on. Folding her arms on her chest, she sat
carefully, putting a little distance between them.

But Dean maneuvered
himself closer, placing a hand at the small of her back and stroking her
lightly. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said to me, you know, last
week.”

Amber nodded and
swallowed uncomfortably. His touch felt wrong, all wrong. Unlike Mac, who could
send liquid surges of pleasure through her body with a single caress, Dean’s
stroking of her skin felt methodical, unwelcome. She tried to inch a little
further away. Any further, though, and she was in danger of falling off the
bed.

“I think those things
needed to be said for a while, Dean. We’ve been sort of drifting, without any
direction. And having had a little more time to think I’m all the more certain—”

Dean waved her to
silence. “Wait a second,” he said. “Hear what I have to say. I think it’s true,
we haven’t been making enough quality time for just the two of us. This career
of mine puts me under the lights so often, sometimes I have a hard time
adjusting back to being, you know, just a regular guy.”

Despite her
exhaustion, despite the ache in her heart, Amber couldn’t help but smile at
Dean’s words. “Oh, Dean, you’d never be just a regular guy even if you tried.”