New Leaf (14 page)

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Authors: Catherine Anderson

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #General, #Family Life

BOOK: New Leaf
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He rolled his eyes. “Out of all the guys in Mystic Creek, I’m the one who caught your eye? Come on, Taffy. Off the top of my head, I can think of a dozen young men in town who outclass me in the looks department, nine ways to hell. You don’t need to do this. Just because my hormones are playing hell with my good intentions, you don’t have to flatter me. I’m not going to back out on our plan.”

“But, Barney, I—”

“Enough
.

Anger edged his voice. “I didn’t agree to this deal for sex. The whole thought of that—well, it’s sleazy. And that isn’t who I am.”

Taffeta realized that Barney honestly didn’t know how devastatingly handsome he was. How could he possibly rank himself low on the charts in the looks department in any town, let alone one as small as Mystic Creek? Did he focus on tiny facial flaws or what he felt were his physical shortcomings when he looked in a mirror? She only knew that he wasn’t seeing the man she saw who moved with easy, masculine grace and flashed a grin that made her bones go limp. And didn’t he understand that a man’s magnetism had little to do with looks and nearly everything to do with who he was as a person and how he projected himself to others?

She saw a man who was a curious blend of steely strength and gentleness, a man with a caring heart, a captivating sense of humor, a sharp wit, and a rare
honesty about who and what he really was. No pretense. No trying to impress people. And yet, with the exception that he rarely remembered to remove his hat when mannerly conduct dictated that he should, he could mix easily with individuals from all walks of life. He was well educated and loved to read. His tastes in music ran to down-home country, but he also appreciated classical, jazz, and blues. He was—
oh, man, I’m in love with him. No maybe to it. No trying to stop myself from taking the leap. I’m totally head over heels
.

“Are y-you saying that being with me would be sleazy?” she asked, hating that her voice trembled.

“No!”
He jerked his hat off and slapped it on the table, sat back in the chair, closed his eyes briefly, and then gave her a burning look. “There’s nothing sleazy about you. You’re beautiful, classy, sweet, and—” He shot up from his seat and lifted his hands, as if he was at a loss for words. “It’s just—it’s this whole marriage thing that’s hog-tying me. Under any other circumstances, I’d hit on you and hope you said yes. I’m attracted to you,
very
attracted, and I can tell that you’re attracted to me. But it just can’t happen right now.”

“Why?” she demanded. “We’re both adults and—”

“And you have too much at stake to tell me no,” he finished for her.

Taffeta couldn’t deny that. When she’d asked him to marry her, she offered him conjugal rights to sweeten the deal. Now, looking at that from his viewpoint, she felt embarrassed—and ashamed. In
order to save her daughter, she’d been willing to prostitute herself. And he was right. Even if she hadn’t wanted to make love with him tonight, she would still pretend that she did. When it came to ensuring her daughter’s safety, she would do anything.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve put you in a horrible situation.”

He sighed and ran a hand over his hair. “You’re the one in a horrible situation, not me. All I can do is try my damnedest not to take advantage of it. I didn’t mean to let things get out of control a few minutes ago, but I did.” He stripped off the jacket and tossed it over a chairback. “I will need your cooperation so it won’t happen again. When I kissed you outside the restaurant—well, for me it was pretty spectacular.”

“For me, too.” She gnawed her bottom lip, trying to choose her words carefully. “I need you to know that it’s a first for me, Barney. I was so focused on getting good grades in high school that I had only one boyfriend and lost my virginity to him in the backseat of his father’s car. It was awful. Well, not
awful
, really. It was his first time, too, and for me, it was an awkward incident that ended up with me crying, not only because it hurt, but also because I got scared when I saw blood.
Mine
, of course. He was turned off. I was turned off. He took me home. I was determined never to go out with him again, and he never asked me, so I guess the feeling was mutual.”

“And then?” he asked.

“I focused on academics so I could go to the
university. Then I met Phillip. He courted me, dazzled me with his charming lines, his sophistication, and his family.” Her cheeks burned. “I liked it okay when he kissed me.” With a shrug, she added, “At least he knew
how
. When we finally had sex, it was—well, not great, but at least it didn’t hurt, and he wasn’t awkward.”

Barney arched an eyebrow. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I need you to know that I don’t normally offer my body to men, that when I approached you it was totally out of character for me. I don’t sleep around. I’ve never slept around.”

The glints of gold left his eyes, making them look dark with shadows. “I never for a second thought otherwise,” he said softly. “If I somehow made you feel that I did, I’m sorry. You’ve never come across that way, Taffy—just the opposite in fact.”

He rested his hips against the china hutch behind him and folded his arms. “We have a common goal, getting Sarah out of Erickson and here with you. I’m in for the duration. I just need some help with keeping my hands off you.”

Taffeta wanted so badly to tell him that she didn’t want him to keep his hands off her, but she refrained, not because it wasn’t true, but because she didn’t want him to think she was lying out of desperation to save her daughter.

She settled for saying, “I’ll do everything I can. Can you give me some suggestions?”

The twinkles of gold finally returned to his eyes.
“If there were such a thing as an ugly pill, I’d ask you to take one morning, noon, and night.” His mouth twitched at the corners. “Unfortunately I’m not sure even that would help. It’s not only that I like the way you look. I like
you
, the person you are. Everything about you is attractive to me.”

Tears burned in Taffeta’s eyes. She blinked to hold them back. “That’s a lovely compliment, and I feel the same way about you.”

“Don’t tell me that, or we’ll end up in bed, and I’ll hate myself in the morning.”

Taffeta knew he meant for her to laugh, but she couldn’t dredge up any humor. Instead she pushed herself to her feet. “I guess I’d better go change into something less . . . dressy.”

“How about a pair of those baggy jeans and a shirt that hangs on you like a tent?” he said with a chuckle.

She hurried to her bedroom, kicked off the heels, and peeled off the dress. Then she went in search of the ugliest, baggiest clothing she could find. Once dressed, she cleansed all traces of cosmetics from her face and skimmed her hair back in a tight knot at the back of her head, secured with a clip.

When she returned to the living area of the house, she found Barney in the kitchen measuring flour into the silver bowl of his stand-up mixer. He glanced over his shoulder at her, studied her for what felt like several seconds, and then said, “Thank God I decided to try my hand at another batch of
sourdough bread. You still look good enough to eat. This will keep me preoccupied.”

In her opinion, he was the one who looked delicious, but she was coming to accept that he wasn’t hers to taste—and probably never would be. “Do you find sourdough difficult to make?” she asked.

He had changed into faded jeans and a white T-shirt that skimmed his upper body like a second skin, showcasing a fascinating play of muscles every time he moved. “Yes,” he replied. “I’ve decided it’s an art, and I’ll either master it or die trying. Every loaf I’ve ever made refused to rise and was so dense with such a thick crust I could use it as a weapon to coldcock someone.”

She forced her gaze away from him to look at the stove clock. “Isn’t it a little late to be starting bread?”

He laughed and winked at her. “The way I see it, I won’t be able to go to sleep anyway.”

“Because of me?”

His grin broadened. “Taffy, it isn’t your fault. Okay? When you’re dying to eat a piece of chocolate, do you blame the chocolate?”

“Yes, because it’s there to tempt me.”

He chuckled again. “Well, I’m not of that mind-set. For me, you’re the chocolate, and I just have to use my willpower to resist you.” He scooped a cup and a half of gooey-looking stuff from a glass crock into the mixing bowl. Then he gestured with his head at a rack of wine bottles at the end of the counter. “Crack open a bottle, why don’t you? Maybe a couple more glasses will mellow me out.”

Taking care to cut a wide circle around him,
Taffeta walked over to the wine. After studying the labels, she asked, “Which kind would you like?”

“I’m not particular, but if you see one called Limp Dick, I’ll drink the whole bottle.”

Caught by surprise, Taffeta chortled. “Sorry. You’re out of luck.” She selected a merlot, searched through the drawers for the corkscrew, and seconds later set a filled wineglass next to him on the counter. “Mind if I join you?”

“Hell, no. We’re not driving anywhere. Maybe we’ll get drunk, have mind-blowing sex, and I can blame it on the alcohol in the morning.”

Taffeta could think of no response to that. In her experience, a lot of men went to bed with women and never gave it a second thought. She suspected that Barney had traveled that path more than a few times with other women, but because he believed that she felt obligated to him, he refused to go there with her.

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. For the first time in her life, she really,
really
wanted a man to make love to her, and he was too honorable to accommodate her.

She was a grown woman. If she wanted to have sex with him, why couldn’t he accept that it was her decision to make?

Other women made love with men they desired all the time, and Taffeta had never once been afforded that experience. It didn’t seem fair. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more irked she became. She understood Barney’s reluctance to take
advantage of a woman who felt obligated to him, but where did
her
wants, needs, and, most important, her right to make choices for herself, factor into the equation? Studying Barney from the corner of her eye, Taffeta wondered what would happen if she tried to seduce him. She had zero experience at seduction, but if Barney was truly attracted to her, and apparently he was, maybe it wouldn’t be all that hard.

Chapter Fourteen

Over the next week, Barney and Taffeta went out on the town every night, pretending to be wildly in love with each other. Barney called it “Doing the hootchy-kootchy act.” Only Taffeta no longer wanted it to be only an act, so she did everything she possibly could, and at every opportunity, to turn him on.

At Dizzy’s Roundtable, Barney ordered bread pudding with bourbon sauce for dessert. Recalling the morning that he’d sucked cream horn filling from her finger and how sexy that had been, Taffeta decided to try that tactic herself. She eyed his plate, deliberately dimpled a cheek, and asked, “May I have a tiny taste of the bourbon sauce? I’ve never tried it.”

Barney started to reach for her spoon, but Taffeta forestalled him with “No, no. Give me a taste with your finger.” Lowering her voice, she added, “It’ll look so much more convincing that way. Don’t you think?”

He shrugged and dipped his forefinger in the sauce. “You better hope my hands are clean.”

Taffeta giggled. “What are a few germs between lovers?” She leaned across the small table for two,
clasped his broad wrist, and guided his fingertip to her mouth. No way was she going to just suck the sauce off. Oh no. She was going to lick it off, and then she’d suck his skin clean.
Oh yeah
. If he already wanted her, that would send his blood pressure rocketing clear off the chart. “Oo-oo-oh. Mmm-mm-mm.” She daintily circled his fingertip with her tongue. “That is
so
good it’s almost orgasmic.”

She felt his arm tense. “Taffy, people are staring.”

She winked at him. “That’s the whole idea, isn’t it? To convince them we’re madly in love?” She licked his finger again and moaned. “Oh my God. How fabulous can it get?” She met his startled and suddenly glassy gaze. “How am I doing with the act?” she whispered.

“Pretty damned good.” His voice had gone gravelly and thick. “But I—”

Taffeta interrupted him with “Oh, that’s a relief. I’m such a lousy actress.”

When she released her hold on Barney’s wrist, he looked as if he’d just been shocked with high-voltage electricity.

“That bread pudding and sauce is so divine. The next time we come here, to heck with having plain old cheesecake for dessert.”

Taffeta picked up her linen napkin, but instead of dabbing her mouth with it, she used the tip of her tongue to clean her lips, even though absolutely none of the sauce still clung to them. She glanced up to find Barney’s gaze riveted to her mouth. She’d
gotten to him, big-time. She just
knew
she had, and she’d only just started to play this game. Before much longer, she would have this man in her bed, making passionate love to her. She
would
. He could stuff his blasted honorable streak under a pillow.

My turn,
she thought. It wasn’t that she didn’t admire Barney for sticking to his principles. Of course she did. But how could she be sure she’d ever again meet another man who appealed to her in all the same ways that he did?

When they got home, Barney didn’t wait for her to change into loose, ugly clothing. He sped past her with long, purposeful strides and called over his shoulder, “G’night, Taffy. Sleep well. I’m totally beat.”

Taffeta looked down at her dress, a strappy, red knit shift that clung to her body like a second skin. She’d worn it for a charity event while still married to Phillip. Most of the fund-raisers had called for more subdued outfits, but that particular event had been a rare glitzy affair. She’d worn silver spike heels, lots of matching bangles, and a choker. Tonight she wore her black heels and no jewelry, except for her cheap wedding band, but a dress like this didn’t need any flash. It made its own statement.

She lifted her arms and twirled in the living room, gyrating her hips and softly singing, “I
can
get some satisfaction.”
Yes
. She doubled her fist, raised it high, and brought her elbow down in a sharp dive.

•   •   •

Still shivering from the cold shower he’d just taken, Barney lay on his bed and stared blindly at the ceiling. He had a hard-on that tented the quilt he’d drawn over himself, and he had a bad feeling that he’d be in this condition all night.

He felt pissed at Taffeta for doing this to him, but a stab of guilt quickly drove the spurt of anger away. She’d been with only an inexperienced jock in high school and her ex-husband, who’d been too selfish to bother with making her happy in bed, so she couldn’t have very much experience with men. It followed that he couldn’t, in good conscience, be mad at her for turning him on. She’d put on a great show at the restaurant to convince onlookers that they were deeply in love, and it wasn’t her fault that he’d had a physical reaction. Bottom line, she hadn’t deliberately pushed all his buttons, and she was probably sound asleep by now, blissfully unaware that she had subjected him to an entire night of pure misery.

•   •   •

At her shop the following day, Taffeta tried to think of some way she could turn Barney on again that night. She couldn’t ask for a taste of his food again. That would be too obvious, and he would realize what she was up to. So what
could
she do? Per Barney’s request, she was already dressing sexy when they went out, but that alone didn’t work because she had to change as soon as they got home.

I’m up against a brick wall,
she thought dismally.
I’m a total bomb at seduction
. She sorely wished she
had a girlfriend who might give her some ideas, but relationships like that took time to build.

To cheer herself up, Taffeta turned on the radio behind the counter, selected a popular country station, and began restocking her shelves from boxes that had been delivered that morning. The song about a guy giving a girl a ride on his John Deere tractor came over the air, reminding Taffeta of Barney saying that he’d give her a ride on his tractor someday. Her first thought had been that she’d prefer it if he took her out into the woods and checked her for ticks.

Do they even have ticks in Mystic Creek?
Taffeta didn’t know, so that plan was out. A few minutes later, Crystal Malloy, who owned Silver Beach, came into the shop. Today her waist-length, wavy hair was its natural red. She wore calf-hugging black boots and a green knit dress that showcased her figure.

“You look fabulous,” Taffeta said, and sincerely meant it. The Crystal Malloys of the world could seduce men without half trying. “I love the natural color of your hair.”

Crystal laughed. “Thank you. I decided to be me today. I get tired of advertising my rinse-away dyes by using them myself. Sometimes it’s scary when I look in a mirror because I forget what wild colors I chose for the day.”

She pushed up the sleeve of her dress. “Do you have
anything
for a nasty spider bite?”

Taffeta gasped when she saw the huge red lump
on the beautician’s forearm. “Oh, ick. That really is nasty. It must hurt like the dickens.”

“I’m sensitive to spider bites,” Crystal said. “Otherwise I’d be racing over to Mystic Creek Urgent Care on Red Barn Road, convinced a recluse bit me.”

“Do we have brown recluse spiders here?” Taffeta shuddered at the thought. “I’ve been terrified of spiders since early childhood. Why, I don’t know. But all kinds send me running in the opposite direction.”

“I’m with you on the terror,” Crystal replied. “And yes, we do have the brown recluse. I don’t think they’re indigenous to our area. From what I’ve heard, they come in on trucks in boxes, get loose inside buildings, and set up camp. I called a bug control place in Crystal Falls this morning. They’re coming tomorrow to spray my shop and apartment.” She turned her arm to look at the bite. “I can’t quite afford it, but this convinced me I can’t afford not to have it done.”

Taffeta led the way to her first-aid aisle. “This will help,” she said, lifting a box from the shelf. “It’ll stave off infection, and it has a numbing agent in it to ease the tenderness.” She handed Crystal the ointment. “But, in all honesty, I’d use a baking-soda poultice on the bite first. I know it’s an old home remedy, but I think it actually works. I’ve used it on bee stings and other bites. I swear, you can see it draw out the poison sometimes.”

Crystal kept the ointment and questioned Taffeta
with her gaze. “How do I make a baking soda poultice? I’ve never heard of it.”

Taffeta gave her instructions. “Leave it on the bite until it dries and starts to flake off. Then wash the area, dab it dry with sterile gauze, and apply the ointment.”

Crystal left moments later with the ointment and a package of gauze. Taffeta stood behind the cash register, staring at nothing.
Mystic Creek has brown recluse spiders
. Her mouth quirked as she suppressed a grin. Crystal didn’t know it, but she’d just given Taffeta an idea how to seduce Barney tonight.

•   •   •

Taffeta dressed for dinner in skintight jeans and the pink knit top that Barney loved. She also followed Crystal’s lead and wore her high-heeled black boots, which hugged her legs to the knee like the skin on an onion. She could hardly wait to get home after dinner, because she had a fabulous seduction plan cooked up. Even better, she felt confident that she could pull it off. Just thinking about spiders made her feel panicky, so playing her role wouldn’t require much acting ability.

After they left the house, Barney was quiet as he navigated his truck along the country roads toward Mystic Creek. Taffeta sensed that something was bothering him, but she didn’t know what. Concern edged away her excitement about her seduction scheme.

“What’s bothering you, Barney? You’re very quiet.”

He sighed. “I hate having to say this, Taffy. But as
a deputy, I really can’t afford to pay for fine dining every evening, so some nights we’re going to have to slum it. I’m thinking about doing dinner at Taco Joe’s tonight. Just as many people will see us together. You like tacos?”

Taffeta’s heart caught. Of
course
he couldn’t afford all this eating out. Where had her head been, in the sand? “Oh, Barney, I’m sorry. From now on, I’ll pay for our meals. We’re eating out because of Sarah. It’s not your expense to pay.”

He executed a curve and then threw her a perturbed look. “You can’t do that. We’re married, remember? In this little town, onlookers would notice you paying for our meals and wonder what the hell is going on. Normally the husband pays.”

Taffeta thought that was a bit archaic. Nowadays many wives were professionals who earned good incomes. But this
was
Mystic Creek, a quaint, old-fashioned little town populated by people who thought differently about many things. “You’ve definitely got a point,” she conceded. “So I’ll settle up with you at home and pay for our meals.”

“Do you have a problem with slumming it?” He gave her a questioning look. “Just curious, because after I divorce you, I might like to date you, and I can’t afford high-maintenance women.”

She laughed. “I happen to like tacos—and hamburgers. Sissy Sue, the little gal who runs the
Cauldron, makes my mouth water when she comes in around lunchtime, offering franks simmered in sauerkraut, hot corn dogs with the house dip, freshly made chili, and the most fabulous fries!”

“She’s new in town,” Barney said, “a relative of the old lady who once owned the place and passed away. Sissy inherited the business. I don’t know her life story, but I have a feeling she grew up without much and feels like she just hit the jackpot.”

“A foster kid, maybe, just like me? Hello, I didn’t grow up enjoying gourmet cooking. Mostly I got hamburger goulash or beans with ham, only I went blind looking for the ham. Maybe I should get to know Sissy Sue. We might have a lot in common.”

His shoulders relaxed. “Well, I’m sorry you grew up that way, and I’m sorry if she did. My mother managed to serve fabulous meals, even during the lean years. We raised so much of what we ate that us kids never felt the pinch.”

Taffeta had only good feelings about Kate Sterling. She radiated warmth. What a joy it must have been for Barney and his siblings to have her as their mother. And Jeremiah? He reminded her strongly of Barney, tall, handsome, and powerfully built, yet gentle and caring.

“Let’s do Taco Joe’s tonight, and tomorrow night, I’d dearly love to try the Cauldron,” she said.

He nodded. “Maybe we can get to know Sissy a little better.” He winked at her. “I think she’s younger than you, but it would be good for you to have a best friend.” The crease in his cheek flashed as he grinned. “A best friend besides me, I mean.”

Taffeta didn’t correct his assumption that he’d become her best friend. Despite the sexual tension that came to a high boil between them at night, Barney
had
become her buddy. Why not? If she couldn’t have him as her lover, she needed some kind of connection with him that meant something.

“Yep,” she agreed. “You’re, hands down, the best friend I’ve ever had.”

“Don’t get mushy on me,” he ordered as he muscled the huge truck into a parking place on West Main in front of Taco Joe’s. “Otherwise, wearing those damned tight jeans, you’ll end up being a flattened decoration on my dining room wall later tonight.”

Taffeta choked back a giggle. She would have loved to hang on his wall again—if he was holding her up.

Joe yelled hello when they entered his eatery. Like every business in Mystic Creek, his place was quaint with gnarled myrtle wood tables in the booths, old pictures of Mystic Creek lining the walls, and a rack of forgotten ball caps that Joe had turned into a conversation piece. After she and Barney placed their orders, Taffeta couldn’t resist studying the collection. Barney joined her, probably not because he’d never seen all the hat logos, but because he wanted to play glued-to-his-bride. One caption read
SCREW MY BRAINS OUT. I DON’T GOT NONE, ANYHOW
. Another one read
MY WIFE THINKS I’M FISHIN’
. Taffeta particularly liked the one that said
I’M THE CAPTAIN OF THIS BOAT. MY WIFE SAYS SO
.

Barney let Taffeta look at every cap. Joe
hollered from the kitchen pass-through that men had started leaving their hats behind on purpose, and he named off a few of the owners who had wanted their headgear to be mounted on the Wall of Fame.

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