Texas Homecoming (16 page)

"Rosebud? Jenny Lee Walker was Rosebud?"

She rushed right on, not hearing him or not wanting to. "I'm just as guilty as if I did, though. It's my fault she's dead. The man who killed her was looking for me. She got in the way. Now, will you just leave me the hell alone?" She started for the stairs.

He said, "No."

She stopped, went stiff, but didn't face him. "What?"

"I said no. I'm not gonna leave you alone. You've been alone way too long already. You can be as mad at me as you want to, Jasmine, but I'm not gonna leave you alone, and my family's not gonna leave you alone. We're gonna be here, all of us, from now on. And I'll tell you right now, if you go running off in the dead of night, I'm coming after you. I'm gonna make things okay for you and Baxter again somehow. But I'm definitely not gonna leave you alone. Not for a minute."

THE BEDROOM RIGHT NEXT TO
Baxter's had a light on, glowing warm through the open door. She peeked inside when she passed and saw that the bed was all made up with a pretty comforter and fluffy pillows. There was a vase full of flowers, and a small clock on the bedside stand. She stood there for a minute, just looking. When had anyone had the time to...and who would bother...? Was this supposed to be for her? There was a small frame on that stand, too, with a snapshot inside. Glancing back down the stairs, she could only see Luke's back as he sat on the sofa, leaning on his knees and staring into the fire. Pensive. Silent. Lonely, she thought. She turned back to the bedroom again, and this time, stepped inside. An oval mirror that looked like an antique hung on one wall. A small dresser with four drawers, also very old looking, and with a knob missing, was just beneath it, wearing a lace dresser scarf. She moved closer to the little stand beside the bed, bent to pick up the framed snapshot for a closer look. It was Polaroid photo someone must have taken just today—of Baxter sitting proudly atop that pony of Bubba's. Her lips trembled, and Jasmine bit down to keep them still. Her finger touched the glass over the photo, tracing the brightest smile she'd ever seen her son wear as tears welled in her eyes. God, he loved it here. He was happier here than she had ever seen him. It had only been a couple of days, and already he had better color than he'd had before. His appetite was better. He was spending more time outdoors than he ever had, and loving every minute of it. Truth to tell, if she could stay, raise her son here in this child-friendly place, she would. But she couldn't. She just couldn't, because Leo and Petronella would catch up. She knew their kind. They were nothing like the Brand men. They didn't have a shred of honor or decency or care for anything besides themselves and the thickness of their wallets. And they would keep coming until they found her. The dream of settling down in a nice town like this, of taking a job giving dance classes for little girls, of raising her son where he could be happy and secure, would never be.

Unless...

She licked her lips as an idea formed in her mind. Maybe there was a way she could make those things happen. Maybe Wes Brand was right...that it was time for her to turn around and face the danger. To stand up and fight.

LUKE SAT UP FOR HOURS,
staring at the flames and wondering what he was feeling for Jasmine. If it was simple desire, then why did it twist him up in knots this way? And if it was more, then why was he so unsure? He'd undressed, tried to sleep, but the questions just wouldn't let him. What he felt for the boy, well, that was a different matter entirely. He loved the kid—almost fiercely. His heart swelled in his chest every time Bax looked up at him with those big intelligent eyes or shoved his glasses up on his nose with his forefinger. He wanted to fix everything that was wrong in the little guy's life and make sure nothing ever frightened him again. He wanted to watch those eyes light up when he brought home a puppy—or a pony. Or, hell, both. Why not?

He thought those feelings were a pretty good indication that he could stick with Baxter for the long haul. It was pretty obvious that he could never walk away from the kid, and it was even more obvious that it would rip Luke's heart out if Jasmine took Bax and walked away from
him.

But what about Jasmine? What about her?

And as if thinking of her had conjured her somehow, he caught a whiff of her scent, so subtle it was barely there, but he never missed it when she was near. He heard the gentle brush of her feet on the stairs and sat up slowly, turning to look her way. It had been hours since she'd gone up to bed. And yet she didn't look as if she'd even undressed. She still wore the clothes she had earlier. Jeans that fit too good for a man's peace of mind, and a white button-down shirt that wouldn't have been sexy on anyone else.

"Can't sleep?" he asked her.

She swung her head toward him fast enough to let him know he'd startled her. "Uh, no. But I thought you'd have been out cold by now."

He shook his head. "Can't seem to shut my mind off."

Sighing, she shoved her hands in her jeans pockets and came toward him. "Bax and I have rained chaos down on your peaceful life out here, I guess."

"Hey, do I look like I mind?" He swung his legs off the couch, put his feet on the floor. Then, as her pretty eyes skimmed down him, he became acutely aware of his attire. A pair of boxers. Nothing else. Of course the blanket was still draped over his lap, but his knobby knees and hairy legs and bare feet were hers for the looking. Not to mention everything from the waist up. And she looked plenty. Then she looked at his face again, and she smiled.

"Are you blushing, Luke?"

He averted his gaze. "Just feeling a little exposed, is all." He tried to move the blanket to cover more of him.

"Hell, I've been seen by more eyes and in less clothes."

"Yeah, but I'll bet you looked a lot better." He was embarrassed right to his rapidly heating ears, and she, damn her, was coming closer. Her stockinged feet moved nearer, and she sat right down on the couch beside him.

She said, "Oh, I don't know. You aren't so bad, you know."

"No?" He managed to lift his head and meet her eyes. And he saw the teasing light in them.

"No. Well, except for those knobby knees."

He smiled with her. She had a way of putting him at ease, when she wanted to. "Knobby knees are one of the genetic traits the male members of the Brand clan try to keep secret."

"Guess I just found something to hold over you forever, then."

"Only if you plan to stick around that long."

Her smile died so suddenly that it was as if he'd slapped it away. And he was damned if he knew what insane urge had made him say the words he had. He must be losing his mind. But they were out there. There was no taking them back now.

Her voice very soft, she said, "The bedroom...is beautiful. Did you do that, Luke?"

"Yeah. Well, you know, I had some help from Chelsea and Jessi. We took turns slipping away during the day to add things. None of it's new or anything."

She said, "New or not, that's probably the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."

He shrugged. "I just thought you ought to have some space of your own."

She nodded at the couch. "While you camp out on the sofa like a guest in your own home."

"There are lots more rooms upstairs. I'll fix one up for me when I get around to it."

She leaned back on his couch, pulled her legs up underneath her. "It's good here. Bax loves it here. And I think he's starting to love you, too."

"Don't think for a minute that it isn't mutual, Jasmine."

That made her smile. "You've done so much for us. You and your family. I can't believe I'm about to ask for even more." Her head lowered as she said the words, her hair falling like a curtain around her face.

He reached out, pushed her hair aside, gently tucking it behind her ear. "Don't be sorry. Especially not if you're finally gonna let me help you out of this mess you're in."

Lifting her head slowly, she smiled at him. "I didn't think they made men like you anymore. All ready to charge in and save the day. You're like something out of a story, you know that? But no, Luke, what I'm asking of you is a hell of a lot more than that."

"What, then?" !

She drew a breath, a deep one, and lifted her chin. "I want you to take care of my son if...if anything happens to me."

Luke's brows came down hard. "Honey, nothing's gonna happen to you. Hey, come on, is that why you've been awake all night? You've been lying up there thinking about...about...."

"About dying. Because that's what will happen if they find me—
when
they find me. And it's driving me insane worrying about what's going to happen to my son if I'm not here to take care of him anymore."

He took both her shoulders and looked her firmly in the eye. "You aren't going to die. For crying out loud, Jasmine, you can't be thinking like this."

^"
Well I am, and I will be until you tell me you'll take care of him."

He searched her face, wondering how she could survive any of this with such a grim attitude. "I can't believe there's any doubt in your mind that I would. Yes, Jasmine. I'd take care of Baxter if anything happened to you. I'd take care of him like he was my own. I promise you that. I'll swear it on the blood of every Brand who ever lived, if it'll make you feel better."

"It wouldn't be easy, you know. They might still come after him."

"I'm aware of that. Didn't you hear what I said? ‘Like he was my own,' Jasmine."

Her lips trembled, and her eyes welled. Her breath seemed to stutter out of her, and she seemed to go limp as she sank against him. Luke put his arms around her, held her gently, felt her shoulders tremble beneath his hands. "Thank you," she whispered. "You can't know how much it means to me, what you just said. Thank you, Luke."

"Hell, Jasmine, don't cry. Please? You gotta stop thinking this way. Don't you know how safe you are here, with me? Hmm?"

She lifted her head from his chest and looked up at him.

"They'd have to go through me to get to you or Bax. And they'd better go through hard, because if there's a breath left in me, I'll spend it to keep you safe."

She blinked, as if shocked right to the core by his words. And he was damned if he knew where they were coming from. They just spewed out without warning or planning, or even bothering to ask his brain for consent.

She was stunned. Frankly, so was he. If a year ago someone had told him he would be saying things like this to a woman, he would have laughed in their face.

He didn't know how to shut himself up, or how he could possibly finish those words. But then he didn't have to, because she was kissing him. Her mouth closed over his. She suckled his lips and licked his tongue, and tears were streaming down her face the whole time. He kissed her back, just as eagerly. He held her hard, while her hands pushed his blanket away as if it were some unbearable annoyance. His hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers buried in her hair as he held her to him and tasted her, exploring her mouth the way he'd been wanting to do. This was what he'd dreamed of doing for hour after long, lonely hour. God, he didn't even know how badly he'd been wanting her until now. He was on fire just from this kiss.

She pushed him backward on the couch, and she bent over him, dragging her warm mouth away from his, and over his neck, to his chest. She used her tongue, even her teeth, to make him squirm and ache and burn. Every part of him was trembling. Every inch of him alive and aware and in horrible fiery need.

Then suddenly she got up, her hand clasping his, she tugged him to his feet He rose. His boxer shorts bearing a tent pole, he followed her. She said, "I don't want us to wake Bax," and she led him through the dining room and kitchen, and out the back door. He closed it behind him, following her as if he were in some kind of hypnotic trance. She walked a little ways from the house, her bare feet in the dew-wet grass. He shivered in the cold. Then she let go of his hand and moved away from him.

And then, under the stars, in the moonlight, she began to dance.

So sensual, the way she moved, that it took his breath away, and he thought he would explode from desire. When she slid her hands up her thighs over her hips and around to the button of her jeans, popped it free and slid the zipper down, Luke lost the feeling in his legs. He landed in the wet grass on his backside, and the shorts were wet, and he was shivering and burning up at the same time. She wriggled the jeans slowly, slowly down over her hips and her legs, but the shirt fell, too, covering the delectable tanned skin a split second after she revealed it to him. Teasing glimpses were all he was given of the curve of her hips and the tops of her thighs. The rest of her legs, though, were given to him fully and slowly. She kicked the jeans off, and he reached for her, but she danced just out of reach. She went to work on the panties next, again giving him fleeting glimpses as she worked them slowly down. Her rounded buttocks were revealed an inch at a time, no more. The little crease where backside met thigh. God, he wanted to kiss her there.

Finally her fingers nimbly released the buttons of the pristine white button-down shirt. One by one. Top to bottom. She turned her back to him and slid the shirt off her shoulders, lower and lower, revealing the curve of her back. Then she turned fast as she lowered it all the way and pulled the loose shirt around in front of her. A flash of her backside made his heart palpitate. And now she danced in front of him, holding that shirt over her beautiful body.

She danced closer to him, and closer still. He reached out, caught the edge of the shirt in one hand. She smiled at him, and he yanked it away. And then he looked his fill as she danced still more. He got to his feet, reached out and caught her waist in his hands. And then he pulled her tight to him, and he kissed her long and deeply. His hands could touch every part of her now, and they did. Her back, her buttocks, her thighs. He rubbed and caressed her as he probed her mouth with his tongue. Her hands tugged on his shorts until they dropped to the ground and he stepped out of them, kicked them aside.