Her Sweet Talkin' Man (6 page)

Crystal turned to him, studying the way the shadows and streetlights turned his handsome face even more handsome and mysterious.

“You stayed and waited for me because you
thought Branson might come looking for me, didn't you,” she said.

“Not necessarily.”

“Not necessarily?”

He shook his head, as if shaking off his own thoughts. “He wasn't happy when he left. He obviously still had things he wanted to say. There was reason to believe that he might come here to let off a little more steam. That was one reason I stayed.”

“What was the other one?”

He took one hand off the wheel. He lifted her hair and cupped his palm around her neck, his thumb stroking the spot he'd kissed earlier.

She swallowed hard. “I can't.”

“I know. I can't, either, but you and Timmy needed an escort, and I needed a few moments of peace talking to a sweet woman, something to lull me asleep at Nola Warburn's place.”

“I hear Nola can provide cures for insomnia,” she teased.

He turned to her and smiled. “You ever been there, darlin'?”

Her grin grew. “As a matter of fact, I have.”

He raised a brow. “I don't believe you.”

“Believe me. Nola and I went to school together. I sneaked off there once after school to play. My mother came and dragged me home, but not before Nola taught me her secret.”

Ace frowned. “Her secret?”

“The way to drive a man wild.”

Ace's fingers froze on her skin. “How old were you?”

“Old enough.”

“And what's the secret?” he asked. He had pulled up to her house and had turned to her. She noticed the cab waiting across the street, one he must have called for before they left the country club. He must have discovered where she lived then, too. He'd planned ahead. She wondered what else he'd planned when he'd decided to come to Mission Creek.

“The secret to driving a man wild,” she said with a small smile, “is never give him what he really wants.”

“Well, then, that shouldn't be too tough. I have a strong feeling that what I want is something you can't give me.”

“And what's that? What do you want?”

He got out of the car. He circled around and opened Timmy's door and removed the sleeping child. Then he opened Crystal's door and drew her out. He walked her to her door, waited until she'd unlocked her house and switched on the light. Then he placed Timmy in her arms and smiled.

She gazed up at him. “You didn't answer my question. What are you really here for? What do you want?”

He stared down into her eyes and touched her cheek. “I don't want anything. There's nothing in the town of Mission Creek that I want, and you, my sweet little hospital fund-raiser, are a woman who wants a lot of something in your life.”

She frowned and shook her head fiercely. “I don't want anything from you.”

“I didn't say you did, but you do want something.
You have a child. He has needs, and that means you have needs, whether you like it or not. You want things, Crystal. You definitely do, but the last thing you want is what a man like me can give you.”

He bent his head, gave her a quick hard kiss and then gently nudged her inside the door.

“Lock it. Now,” he said, and she did as she was told. Dazed and shaken by his touch, she could do nothing else. She needed to put some distance between them. A closed door at the very least.

But as she heard the door of the cab close, heard the engine roar as the car pulled away, she sank down with Timmy, holding him close and safe in her arms. She swept her fingers across her lips where Ace had warmed them and made them ache.

She wanted him to touch her again. Kiss her again.

The very thought scared her, because he was right. She might not want to ever marry, but she had needs. What she needed most in her life was stability. For herself and for her son. Especially for her son.

But there was no question in her mind that the man who had just kissed her didn't have a high regard for or need for stability. He lived for the moment. When he took a woman in his arms, he took her passion and then moved on to the next woman.

She'd have to be the worst kind of fool to get caught up in that.

And she had been a fool too many times.

“I don't want you, Ace,” she whispered out loud.

But she knew that was a lie. She wanted him. Right here. Right now. His lips against hers. Again.

 

It seemed he'd been living in the shadows most of his life, Branson Hines thought from his position across the street beneath the trees. He liked the darkness.

It enabled him to find out what was going on, to get close to people without them knowing it. His eyesight after dark was excellent. That came in handy sometimes.

Like tonight.

He'd gotten away from those security guards easily enough. And he'd seen that witch and her kid, seen how she'd let the man kiss her when she'd refused Branson's kiss earlier.

“She always survives,” he muttered. In spite of what he'd told everyone about her years ago, look what had happened. She'd become the hospital fund-raiser and the darling of the Carsons. In spite of being a total slut, she had a little boy—unlike his sweet wife, Deena, who'd lost her baby when she'd stepped into that hospital, that place of evil.

“Not fair, not nearly fair,” he said.

But he would make it fair. Oh, yes, he would. Crystal Bennett's luck couldn't hold out forever.

H
ad a woman's lips ever tasted so sweet? It was the first thought that edged into Ace's thoughts the next morning when he woke up—and he didn't like it.

“Get her out of your mind, Carson,” he told himself, closing his eyes and attempting to reclaim the relative oblivion of sleep.

Didn't work. All he could see were big hazel eyes. All he could remember was the softness of her skin, the dazed, desire-filled look in her eyes when he'd pulled back.

Crystal had blinked and recovered quickly. She'd colored up prettily, and he could see that she was no doubt counting herself lucky that he had more or less told her he wasn't staying around and would leave her alone.

But he still wanted to gaze into her eyes as he slipped into her body. He wanted to hear her gasp and cry out with satisfaction.

Knowing that he would do none of those things didn't make the need less intense.

“Time for an icy shower, buddy,” he told himself, forcing himself from bed and into the bathroom. “Get her out of your mind. She's been hurt by men before and she doesn't want that again. Besides, she has a
boy. A very little boy. Innocent and vulnerable. A boy who hasn't yet learned that people can be fickle, that they can hurt him when he hasn't done anything wrong.” Boys like that blamed themselves when things went wrong. They smiled, and you smiled back. And when you left, they wondered if they'd done something wrong and what it was. Soon their smiles came less often and then not at all. They ceased to trust.

A boy that young should still be able to trust.

A woman that pure of heart should be able to leave her house without worrying that some man with lustful intentions would take advantage of her goodness and her warmth and her loveliness.

She wasn't going to have to worry about him. He was going to stick around only long enough to be an annoyance to Ford, long enough to remind him and his that there were at least some consequences for every action, even those that had happened long ago.

Then he would finally feel as if he'd done a little something for his mother, given back a tiny bit of what had been taken from her. And then he would go, leaving Crystal Bennett as innocent as he'd found her.

It was some kind of a plan, at least.

As he felt some of the morning's tension ease and made his way to the kitchen, the phone rang.

“Yeah?” He held the receiver between his shoulder and ear as he opened the door to the beat-up refrigerator and stared at a lot of nothing.

“Hmm, grumpy in the morning. Not specifically a
Carson trait, but interesting.” It was Fiona's too-cheerful voice.

“I assume you have a reason for calling.”

“Maybe I just wanted to make sure Crystal got home safely last night.”

“You could have called her to ask that.”

“I wonder. I saw her leave with you. She might have told me if Branson was bothering her again, but I'm not sure she would have discussed you with me even if you were less than a gentleman.”

“I'm not a gentleman and there's nothing to discuss.” But her words gave him pause.

He'd seen the worried look in Crystal's eyes when he'd gone to see Ford last night. He hadn't missed the fact that she'd taken his hand. To protect him? Fiona was right. Crystal wouldn't complain about his behavior to a Carson.

“She's fine,” he said a bit too roughly. “At least she was when I left her.”

“Might be a good idea to call and find out for sure, though. Just in case Branson rang her doorbell after you left.”

He was way ahead of her on that one. And like it or not, determined to keep his distance from Crystal or not, he intended to make sure Branson left her alone.

“Good point. Is there anything else?” he asked. “I'm just getting ready for work.”

“Oh, yes, Mission Creek Motors. You could probably have a job at Lone Star Auto, you know.”

No, he couldn't. He had lived his whole life at the wealthy academy where his mother had ended up
working, fighting the accusations that he wanted to be an interloper, a climber, a pretender, a wanna-be who didn't really belong at the school. It had taken him years to fight free. He was done with that. And this was just more of the same.

The distance between him and the Carsons was glaring enough. He'd come here to show Ford that he'd survived in spite of everything and didn't need the big bad Carsons to help him succeed. He'd come here to show Ford Carson he could give him a run for his money, even make him a little uncomfortable. Doing the nine-to-five under the thumb of Ford Carson would give Ford the power. And the old man had already exercised his power over Ace—and his mother. Ace didn't want to be one of
the
Carsons of Mission Creek. And he sure didn't want anyone thinking differently.

“I don't think I'd be a good match for Lone Star Auto. I like it just fine where I am. Now if you'll excuse me…”

“Sure, I was just going, but…”

“Yes?”

“There
is
one thing.”

He waited.

“I was just wondering…I thought…well, Clay and I are having a little dinner party here later. Perhaps you'd like to bring Crystal.”

It was the last thing Ace had expected to hear.

“You want me to come to dinner?”

“With Crystal.”

Ah, now he was getting it. He remembered a few times last night when Fiona had appeared to get a
certain look in her eyes. A born matchmaker, he guessed. Not a shy one, either. And her aim right now was to match Crystal with the new man in town. He was a little disappointed in Fiona. Surely she remembered what he'd told her about where he was staying and what he was doing while he was here, neither of which made him look like much of a catch. He wondered what the other men she'd tried to set Crystal up with had been like—and found he didn't really want to know.

“I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Because you don't want to have dinner with the Carsons, or because you don't want me to fix you up with Crystal?”

He wasn't prepared to answer. He doubted he
could
answer if he tried.

“When I make a date with a woman, I prefer to do my own planning,” he finally said, his excuse sounding lame even to his own ears.

“Hmm, well, I just thought it would be one way to keep her safe while Branson is in this mood.”

“Is he truly dangerous?”

“Could be. He's served time in jail, but not for anything violent. Still, he went berserk after his wife, Deena, lost her baby when she went into premature labor. And he has an ugly history with Crystal, but that was a long time ago. I'm not sure why he targeted her yesterday.”

Which meant the man was unpredictable. It was already obvious he was unstable. Fiona was right—someone needed to keep an eye on Crystal. For the next few days, at any rate.

“Hmm,” he said.

“Exactly,” Fiona replied. “You'll come to dinner?”

“I told you, I like to do things my own way when I'm getting involved with a woman.”

“And are you planning on getting involved with her?” He could almost hear the satisfaction in Fiona's voice.

“I'm just going to make sure Branson doesn't think she's fair game. I'll be a presence.”

“I like that.”

“Don't like it too much. It won't last, and you should be grateful for that. Crystal is destined for someone a lot more domestic than I am.”

“She doesn't want to get married. I know that much.”

He did, too, but for some reason it grated coming from someone else. What did Crystal do? Advertise to the entire world that she wasn't available to any man?

“It won't come to that,” he promised. “This will be short and simple. More of a task than a relationship,” he assured his half sister.

But he had to admit, when he had hung up the phone, it was a task that might be pleasant. Crystal was an appetizing woman, and he was feeling rather hungry at the moment. As long as both of them recognized that they didn't want to let things go too far, why shouldn't they at least get to know each other a little?

 

Crystal hung up the phone and wondered when Fiona would stop trying to fix her up with every man who entered her field of vision.

She hadn't even bothered to try to hide the fact that she was matchmaking.

“Fiona,” Crystal had said, “doesn't it bother you that Ace is obviously here to settle some kind of score with your family? Your father in particular?”

“Yes, it bothers me a lot.”

“Then why do you want me to date him?”

“Hmm, I don't know. Maybe because I don't believe that anyone can really resist the Carson clan?” she teased. “Or because if you married him, you and I would be related?” Crystal could almost imagine Fiona's grin.

“Not exactly the most stable basis for a marriage, sweetie,” Crystal reminded her friend.

“Maybe not, and maybe I'll regret trying to throw you two together, but he protected you. You don't get enough of that. You try to convince everyone that you don't need anyone, and it sends most men running.”

“That's the idea. And I
don't
need anyone.”

“You have to admit that he's a looker.”

“He's a Carson. You're all lookers. And looks don't make for a stable relationship, either. I had that with John. He even looked good walking away.”

“He
ran
away. Coward.”

“Yes.”

“And it wasn't you he was running from. It was fatherhood.”

“And marriage. And Ace doesn't want marriage, either, in case you don't know that.”

“Yes, well, I can guess. He doesn't look like he's thinking of domestic chores when he turns those blue
eyes on you. Although he does look a bit like he's imagining activities related to babies.”

Crystal didn't know what to say. “You really think that no one can resist the Carson clan?” She wondered if she was thinking about Ace resisting Fiona's friendliness, or herself resisting Ace's bedroom looks.

“I guess you'll see. He's on his way over to see you before work. Why don't you bring him over to my house for dinner tonight?”

“If you know that he's on his way over here, then you must have talked to him. I can only assume that he turned down your offer of a meal.”

“Stubborn man.”

“Yes, and he's going to stay that way. I am not going to begin dating your half brother or any other man who looks like something so sinful he should be poured over ice cream. I've told you a thousand times I'm strictly into simple friendly relationships with men from here on out.”

“Well, it was worth a try.” Fiona let out a long sigh.

Crystal wasn't going to rise to the bait. She was going to hang up just as soon as she found out one thing. “Why exactly is Ace on his way over here?”

“Maybe because he just can't stay away,” Fiona suggested.

“Or because you told him something that sent him over here,” Crystal guessed.

“That, too,” Fiona admitted. “But you can ask him about it when he gets there.” And then she hung up.

Now Crystal was standing in the middle of the room trying to decide what to do. She wasn't due at the hospital for another hour and so she hadn't gotten dressed yet. Her hair was still loose and slightly mussed from a night in bed, and her pale blue sleep shirt had seen many washings and clung to her curves the way old soft shirts do. Her feet were bare. Worse, she hadn't yet had coffee or anything else to brace her for the next few minutes.

What she needed was a backbone. What she did not need was to have to face Ace when her lips were still tingling from his kiss the night before.

But the doorbell rang at that moment and it didn't matter what she needed. What she had was one gorgeous man standing on her doorstep.

She let him in. His gaze shifted immediately to her bare legs. He didn't look even vaguely apologetic. No surprise. Women probably spent hours dreaming up ways to show him their legs. Most women would probably consider her lucky.

Crystal tried to nonchalantly cross her arms—and her legs.

Ace grinned. “It's not working, you know. You still look like something a man is supposed to find in his bed if he's incredibly lucky.”

Warmth stole up from her toes to the top of her head. It traveled back down through her body, stopping in all the places that made her aware that she was a woman and Ace Carson was a man.

“Can I help you?” she finally managed to ask, not sure where to start.

He shook his head. “Fiona suggested that Branson
might have made a repeat visit to your side after I left last night. I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

She didn't want to be touched by his concern. But darn it, what was a woman supposed to do when he just stood there looking as if he really was concerned about more than her legs?

“I haven't seen him since you chased him away,” she replied.

“Good. I'll try to keep it that way.”

She blinked. “Which means what?”

He shrugged. “I'm here for a short while. My job isn't that demanding. I can make myself useful while I'm in Mission Creek. Any problems with that?”

Yes, more problems than she cared to examine if he meant what it sounded like he meant. “What did Fiona say to you?”

“Fiona thinks you and I should get to know each other better.”

“Fiona is sometimes too…helpful for her own good, but she's also skipping down the wrong path.”

“I know that. So does she, I think.”

His easy compliance should have offered her some relief. Instead, it stung.

“Don't get me wrong. Fiona's a good person,” Crystal said.

Ace didn't answer.

“She's a wonderful person, actually.”

He stared at her, his lips even curved in a smile slightly, but he didn't comment.