People Will Talk (9 page)

A restless wind teased the trees above them,
scattering sunlight like a fall of golden confetti. Bret plucked a
weed from the overgrown bed beside the steps, twisting the
stem.

He'd wanted her to stand up to the gossips.
Sitting next to her, watching the play of expressions on her face,
he realized that Nora was taking a stand just by staying in Stone
burg.

Unthinking, he reached for her, sliding his
arms around her slim shoulders. She looked up, her face tilted for
his kiss.

In all his years, no woman had tempted him
more. He felt drawn to her in ways he couldn't explain. When his
lips met hers, the thunder of his heart became a roar in his ears.
It was always like this with her, this sudden burst of hunger and
urgency consuming him, primal urges surfacing faster than he could
contain them.

He felt her hands clutch at him, a small
reflexive movement. She tasted like honey, the stroke of her mouth
like velvet beneath his. The scent of her—her bewitching body
pressed against his—conjured heaven and hell.

It was too much for him, too much to expect him
to let go of her. They'd sort out the details later. Now he needed
the feel of Nora around him, beneath him, needed her more than
air.

******

Chapter Five

He tasted of heat and sunshine and wicked,
wonderful things. Nora leaned in for his kiss, the swirl of doubts
and anxieties in her head dissipating with the rising tide of
desire.

Her hands clutched at his broad shoulders,
steadying her against the whirlwind of their kiss. Sensation
shivered through her with the brush of his lips and she opened her
mouth without hesitation, clung to him without thought. Nothing
felt more natural than losing herself in the warm earthy scent of
him.

She heard him murmur, a low hungry sound as he
gathered her closer, lifting her up onto the porch until she lay
against him.

This was a new thing, this sense of merging
with a man until she wanted nothing but him. Nora trembled with the
urgency of it, driven to hold the mating of their
mouths.

He held her cradled in the crook of his arm,
his damp, urgent mouth dropping to the curve of her neck, his hand
cupping her hip to draw her closer.

Nora whimpered. Every part of her bloomed for
him, aching for his touch. She moved against him, hunger thrumming
in her. The sound of his ragged breathing mingled with the roar in
her ears and she gasped as his hand trailed up her body to surround
her breast. Bret took her mouth in a rough assault, the arc of his
body hard against hers.

Kiss melted into kiss until Nora felt on fire,
writhing against him and arching for his touch. His hand lingered
on her breast, stroking her gently through her shirt until she
could no longer think, craving the feel of him against her bare
skin.

She lay back panting when he lifted from her
mouth, his hands fumbling with the buttons of her shirt. When he
brushed back the fabric, she trembled for the heat of his mouth
against her. In a tangle of sleeves and arms, he did battle with
the clasp of her bra until it came free, baring her to his
touch.

Bret knelt above her, his face ablaze with
desire, his hands stroking her flesh as if he'd found gold. He bent
to nuzzle her, his breath hot and damp against her skin.

She lay on the porch, her hands caught in the
tousle of his hair as he fondled and kissed her breasts. Each
caress and suckle of his mouth drove her higher, tighter,
hungrier.

In the back of her mind, caution cowered, held
at bay by the ferocity of her need for him, the full, bright moment
of fantasy come to life. And it was better-better than her
dreams.

Yes, he was reckless, wild and undependable.
But she'd been empty and cold for so long, had denied herself for
so long.

Shifting, Bret knelt on the top step between
her bent knees. He laved and suckled her breasts, his rock hard
body inciting a riot of sensation despite the layers of clothes
between them.

Dazed, Nora stared up at the ceiling of the
porch, the cool air sharp against her heated skin. She felt herself
moving against him, felt the thundering of her blood as she raced
toward the cliff.

Her mind was a jumble, a frenzy of urgency. And
yet, some part of her balked, pulled back on the reins.

This was Bret holding her in his arms, loving
her like the devil's most proficient artisan. Reckless, risk-taking
Bret, who'd never been true to one woman. How could she trust him?
He was a man and, by nature, a fickle one.

He lifted from her breast, straining forward to
capture her lips, his pelvis rocking against hers. Nora's mind
disappeared in an explosion of fireworks, rivulets of pleasure
showering her. The snap on her jeans popped free beneath his
searching hands.

Nora bolted upright, her movement sending Bret
rocking back on his heels.

"No," she gasped, groping for her discarded
bra. Balanced on the porch steps in front of her, Bret's breathing
was labored, his hand outstretched as if to steady her.

''I'm sorry," she babbled. "I…we, I let it go
too far."

"Hold on, sweetheart," he managed, his voice
still rough with passion.

Nora fought the tears welling in her eyes as
she awkwardly scrambled into her clothes. She'd never felt lower,
never been so ashamed of herself. It was bad enough to allow
herself to be this foolish, but to lead Bret on and then to stop
him made her feel like a tease. She fumbled with her shirt. ''I'm
sorry."

"Nora, honey." He slid onto the porch next to
her, tugging her into his arms. "It's okay, sweetheart. Nothing
happened."

"This is nuts. I should never have let you kiss
me. I didn't mean to ... tease." She wrenched herself out of his
arms, unwilling to be in such tempting proximity.

"Honey, don't give yourself grief." Humor laced
his voice as he gave her a crooked smile. ''I'm always hotter than
a tamale when you're around."

"I didn't mean to let things get so carried
away," she said again, struggling to tuck in her shirt.

"Well, there's where you're better than I am,"
Bret confessed. "I've been meaning to get carried away with you for
a long time."

She glanced up at him, profoundly disturbed by
the glow in his eyes. "It's not a good idea."

He held her gaze, his dark eyes smoldering as
he said softly, "Seemed pretty damn good to me."

Nora looked away, her heart rate revving
irresponsibly. How could he look so desirable, kiss her like she
was the only woman on the earth ... and still be such a man?
Unreliable, intrinsically dishonest, incapable of putting a woman's
needs before his own.

But it wasn't his fault he had the Y
chromosome.

Finally, she said, "—I don't need any
complications."

His smile faded. "Is that what this is? A
complication?"

The words sounded gentle, but she couldn't read
his face.

Nora got up from the porch, thrusting suddenly
nervous hands into her jeans pockets. "I've got plans that will
require all my energy. I can't afford to
get...distracted."

"Distracted," Bret repeated the word as he
leaned back, his elbows propped on the top step.

She looked away from the disturbing stretch of
his taut, muscled body. 'I’m not going to deny that I find you very
attractive. It's just that right now--"

"—you can't be bothered with love," he
concluded, an edge in his voice.

"No. I can't." She turned to face him. "All my
life I've tried to do right by people, to be responsible and fair.
You might have noticed it hasn't gotten me far. Now, I'm putting my
dreams first. I just don't have the energy for a man."

Bret looked at her, his emotions shut out of
his normally open expression. "So even though you like me and I
like you, you don't want to take this any further because kissing
me takes too much energy?"

"It's more than kissing," she said, forcing the
words out through a tight throat.

Bret got up from the porch, dusting off his
jeans. "This isn't about your plans for the riding school. It's
about Richard. You're scared of getting hurt again."

"Thank you, Dr. Freud," she said sarcastically,
fighting off a wave of anger, sadness and frustration all mixed
together. "I suppose I should just sleep with you for the hell of
it."

He walked to where she stood, stopping inches
away. She met his gaze without flinching.

"What I think," Bret said softly, "is that
you've never really loved a man or let him love you. This thing
with Richard bruised your pride and sent you home with your tail
between your legs. I think you're running scared, Nora."

"And sex with you would prove something?" she
demanded angrily. "Hot, torrid sex would cure my
problem?"

"I don't know," he said, turning toward their
horses, "but you've got to give your heart to someone if you're
ever going to meet life halfway."

"Leaning on a man got me into the situation I'm
in," Nora declared, determined not to let herself cry. "Now I have
to make my own way, my own life. I don't have any other
choice."

"You always have a choice," Bret said,
meaningfully. "There's no situation that can't be finagled if you
work it right. Love isn't the enemy. Fear is."

Watching him turn and walk away, Nora fought
against the jumbled mess in her mind. She'd been very clear on it
all, ever since leaving Dallas. If you put too much reliance on a
man, you'd live to regret it. But now with Bret's words spinning in
her head, she felt like she'd stepped into an alternate
universe.

You've never really loved a man....
Hadn't she loved Richard? And what the heck was Bret up to? Men who
just wanted a quick tumble didn't usually talk about
love.

"Of course I'm not going to the Boys' Home
Benefit," Nora declared. "Why on earth would I want to go to
anything sponsored by the Riding Club? The worst gossips in town
are on the Board."

Facing her friend Eve, Nora crossed her arms,
determined not to allow her attention to stray toward where Bret
was standing nearby. Even so, her peripheral vision faithfully
responded his every movement as he lifted the saddle from his
horse's back, the flex of his muscles evident through his
shirt.

"Everyone goes to the benefit," Eve said,
picking up a piece of paper that had drifted out of Jessica's open
backpack.

"Here's your hat, Jess," Nora said, as the
child trooped past on the way to her mother's car, her arms loaded
with her backpack, sneakers and baseball mitt.

"I just think you ought to go," Eve persisted.
"You don't have anything to hide. The gossip seems to be dying
down...despite your indiscretion."

"The benefit is the same every year," Nora
retorted, ignoring Eve's comment. "Bad barbecue, Lex Martin's Rough
Rider Orchestra and, this year, too many people who hate me. I
can't see any reason why I should go."

"I can." Bret entered the conversation without
preamble. "You should go to promote your business. If you're going
to make your riding school work, you have to advertise
it."

Nora swallowed hard, her entire treacherous
body responding to the sound of his voice. In the last two days
since their passionate clinch on the porch of the Turner house,
she'd constantly battled her urges, remembered the feel of his
touch—and thought about what he'd said.

"I have been doing some promoting," she
said.

"Ask any small business person," Bret added.
"You have to get involved in the community."

The thought of facing a roomful of accusing
eyes didn't sound too appealing.

"Unless you're giving up on winning the town
over."His words held a hint of a taunt.

''I'm not giving up. The scandal will blow over
when everyone sees that I'm no different than I was when I grew up
here."

“
Then this will be the perfect
opportunity to prove that to them, won't it?"

"So, you're going," Eve concluded, her gaze
bouncing avidly between Nora and Bret.

"With me," he said, his smile faintly
challenging.

"No!" The word jumped out of Nora's mouth.
''I'm trying to avoid gossip, not ask for it."

"You can come with us, Nora," Eve offered
hastily.

The VFW hall looked the same as it always had
with its inadequate lighting and the scarred Linoleum floor. The
band occupied the small stage area, the aged musicians looking even
more withered and catatonic than the last time Nora had seen
them.

Hesitating inside the doorway, she waited for
Eve and Tom. True, nothing drastic had happened after her night at
the Roadhouse, but she couldn't believe the gossip had completely
stopped. Of course, she still hadn't been into town.

She glanced around, wondering if Bret had
arrived yet. It would be nice to have another friendly face, even
though this particular face had haunted her for the last week.
Maybe they could dance once without arousing too much speculation.
In her wildest dreams, she couldn't imagine anyone else asking her.
At least, not with their wives around.