The Sheriff's Secret Wife (13 page)

"I did not."
"Yes, you did." One more step and he was directly in front of her. He dropped the towel. He wanted to see her face. "Right after I fished you out of the fountain at that hotel with the fake Eiffel Tower."
The memory was as clear as if it had happened yesterday.
She'd slipped off her high heels and was calf-deep in water before he'd realized what she was doing. He'd gone in after her, cowboy boots and all, when they'd caught the attention of a security guard. He'd carried her in his arms the six blocks back to their hotel before she'd insisted on—
"I don't remember."
Her soft words caused the recall to fade. He couldn't tell if she was lying or not. "But you do remem—"
"What I remember is you dropping the bomb about our invalid annulment two weeks ago." She cut him off as she pushed past, hurried to the desk and flipped through a manila folder.
Gage draped the towel back over his head to muffle his groan of frustration. Back to square one. Less than square one, if Racy had her way.
"Where'd you get the money to have that paperwork drawn up, anyway?" He latched on to the first thought that came into his head. "That firm charges a bundle."
"None of your business."
He tossed the towel to the floor and crossed the room. Grabbing her by the arm, he spun her around. "Racy—"
"Take your hands off me."
Gage released her, but braced his arms on the desk, trapping her with his body. "You need to explain and you need to do it now."
"I don't have to do anything—"
"Then you can go back to your fancy lawyer and drop a large retainer on him because your simple and quiet divorce is going to get loud and ugly."
Her eyes widened. "You wouldn't do that!"
He leaned in closer. "And I never thought you'd blow me off last Sunday, but I guess both of us can be wrong, huh?"
"Now, there's an understatement."
"Enough of the riddles and innuendos. For someone who prides herself on being direct, you certainly seem to enjoy dancing in circles when it comes to talking to me."
"You want direct?"
"Yes."
"Fine. What did you promise Travis and Daniel?" She jabbed him in the chest with a pointed finger. "Are you going to look the other way when it comes to zoning laws? Or maybe you gave them each a get-out-of-jail-free card?"
Gage jerked back. "What are you talking about?"
"I heard them! Last Saturday, after the meeting, I heard them talking about your phone call and your promises…" Her voice faltered and she swallowed hard before continuing. "I even followed them outside and what did I find? Three good ol' boys sharing handshakes and smiles."
Realization hit him as cold as that champagne shower. "I can explain."
She squared her shoulders and crossed her arms under her breasts. "Oh, I just bet you can."
He forced himself not to look at the deep cleavage her move created as the top button on her pajama top popped open. Flashes of her half dressed, buttons undone on another pajama top, filled his head. He willed the image away. "Yes, I spoke with Travis and Dan about your hearing. I was worried. I know how much the bar means to you—"
"So you didn't trust me to get the job done and tried to sway the voting with bribes instead."
His temper flared at the accusation, but he forced himself to remain calm. "I didn't bribe anyone. What Donna had done was unfair, but I couldn't stop the hearing, so I thought I'd call as many of the selectmen as I could—"
"As many as you could? Who else did you talk to?"
"Roberts and Gilman. And I didn't offer anything or make any promises. All I did was remind them how important The Blue Creek is to this town as a thriving business and how successful it's become since you've taken over. Of course, I didn't have the financial or historical data to back me up—"
"You spoke to four selectmen?"
"And not very successfully. Roberts and Gilman voted against you anyway and Daniel sounded doubtful when we talked, but I guess you changed his mind."
"That doesn't change the fact that what you did was—"
"Wrong. One hundred percent wrong. I know that now, but you did it, you're the one who changed his mind." He gripped Racy's shoulders. "You got the votes you needed from people I couldn't reach. You convinced them keeping The Blue Creek as is, running in your capable hands, was the right thing to do."
Her fists dropped to her sides, her shoulders sagged and the fight left her. "I can't believe you did that."
"I wasn't trying to hurt you. I wanted to fix things."
"Gage, you aren't responsible for this town and everyone in it. You can't fix everything." Racy sighed and shrugged from his touch. "This wasn't your problem to fix anyway."
He hated to do it, but he stepped back. "You're right. It was yours, and you did it beautifully. I should've had faith you'd reach the selectmen and the members of the betterment committee, even if they all didn't vote in your favor."
She closed her eyes and turned away. Silence stretched between them. "Okay, I was wrong about what you tried to do for me and you were wrong to think I needed your help. Let's leave it at that." She turned back and tapped the paperwork. "There is one thing we both can fix."
There was no way he was picking up that pen. "You know what? I think you ran away to Laramie because you got scared."
She spun back to him. "What?"
"You are so used to being alone that the idea of a date—with me or anyone else—is something you can't handle."
"You're out of your mind."
"Husband number one died because his love for the bottle was stronger than his love for you. Husband number two up and walked away and you've been alone ever since." The words poured out of his mouth and he was powerless to stop them. "You flirt with every guy out there, whether he's eighteen or eighty, but you haven't been involved with anyone since Tommy left."
"And what about you? Mr. Save-The-Town-And-Everyone-In-It. I can count the number of girlfriends you've had since you came home from Virginia on one hand and still have plenty of fingers left over. Being Destiny's lone superhero is tough work, but what the hell are you waiting for?"
You.
The word exploded in his head and he clamped his jaw shut to keep it from escaping. But it was the truth. All these years and he'd been waiting for—what? The right moment? The perfect moment? Is that what Vegas had been?
"I'm sorry, Gage. That wasn't fair. What or who you've been waiting for is none of my business." Her voice was soft as she rubbed her forehead, brows drawn tight. "It's been a crazy few weeks with the wedding, finals, the betterment committee, my brothers, finding out about us—look, just sign. I'll get it back to the lawyers and we can go back to being…friends."
Friends? Did he want to be friends with Racy?
Yeah, he did. That and so much more.
And it was time for a little less talk and a lot more action.

G
age spun her around so fast, Racy didn't have time to react.
She could only feel. Feel his arms clamped around her as he pulled her hard to his chest. Feel his mouth, coaxing hers open, and the warm, wet heat of his tongue seeking, then finding hers. Feel his hands trailing down her back until they slid beneath her pajama top to grip her hips and press her flush against him.
The shock faded and something carnal and wild took its place. She had to admit, in the middle of the madness of her out-of-control life, she'd dreamed of this moment so many times over the last two weeks.
Now it was here.
She was back in Gage's arms and he was devouring her with kisses. Kisses she returned, loving the dark, whiskey-flavored taste of him. Kisses different from what they'd shared in the early-morning hours in his living room. This time, his mouth had a frantic need, an unrestrained passion that reminded her of the first time he'd kissed her in Vegas.
Desperate to touch him, she was limited as to how far she could reach thanks to his hold on her. The smooth material of his dress pants danced under her fingertips and she stretched her hands, cupping the tightness of his backside.
A groan rumbled in his chest at her touch, making her bold. She mimicked his action by pulling him against her and rose on tiptoes, rotating her hips against the hard ridge pressed against her. Her hands moved higher and met bare skin.
It wasn't enough.
He'd freed her mouth, his lips moving to her neck. Her head fell to the side, the not-so-gentle nips on her skin just below her ear causing a moan to rush past her lips.
She fisted his shirt and tugged. "Gage, let me go."
"No, never."
A thrill at his possessive tone shot through her, and she smiled, dropping her head to the damp cotton material covering one shoulder.
"Yes." She punctuated her request with a not-so-gentle bite.
"Hey!" He straightened, his arms going lax around her. "Why'd you do that?"
"So I can do this," she whispered, sliding her hands over the defined muscles of his chest, parting his tuxedo shirt even farther. Her nails, a demure manicure in deference to the wedding, stood out against the dark hue of his skin. She looked up when his hands gripped her waist again. His eyes had turned a dark blue, almost black in color. A flash of fear crossed his features. He thought she was going to push him away.
She should.
Her practical angel, complete with flowing white robe and halo, sat at one shoulder and lectured on how history repeating itself wasn't a good thing. But a little devil, dressed in red lace and Prada high heels, urged her to listen to her heart, and all the other throbbing body parts, and enjoy herself.
Racy decided.
Her angel disappeared in a huff. The devil left with a satisfied smirk.
When her hands reached the top of his shoulders, she pushed his shirt down his arms, forcing him to release her a second time so it could fall to the floor. The relief in his eyes blazed to something hot and passionate.
She then leaned forward to trace the outline of his collar bone with her lips, balancing herself by holding tight to his defined biceps. One strong hand came up and fisted in her hair, holding her in place as his signature scent of the great outdoors, mixed with the heat of his skin, filled her.
The faint tang of expensive champagne stayed on her lips as they caressed their way up his neck until, tender and sensitive from the day's stubble on his chin, they hovered at his mouth. "Hmm, bare skin…much better."
"My thoughts exactly," he rasped.
She wasn't prepared when he spun her again and walked her backward toward the four-poster bed. The desk, now behind Gage, came into view and the divorce paperwork lying there stood out like a bright neon sign. She closed her eyes and bumped into the corner post, her head protected from the solid wood by his hand still tangled in her curls.
His mouth captured hers again and he cradled her face. His fingers moved against her scalp as he continued to kiss her senseless. Small pulls on her hair made her realize he was searching for, and removing, the numerous bobby pins of her wedding hairdo. She raised her hands and quickly removed four, letting them fall from her hands.
He pulled back from her mouth and whispered, "Let me."
The full press of his body had her again on tiptoes, fitting him perfectly against her. The flannel material of her pajamas rubbed her breasts and belly, causing her nipples to harden and her stance to widen as she welcomed him between her legs. She reached for the post behind her for balance, then dropped her hands to his arms.
"No, I like this better." He stopped his ministries to her hair, grabbed her wrists and placed her arms back over her head.
"Gage…"
She started to lower them, but he again put her hands on the post, gently curving her fingers, making it clear he wanted her to hold on.
He looked down at her, a grin raising one corner of his mouth. "Don't make me get my handcuffs, lady."
"Are they fur-lined?" Racy peeked at him through the curly lengths of hair that partly covered one side of her face, unable to stop her own smile. "Mine are red and fuzzy. You know, to protect the delicate skin of one's wrists in case—"
"When and where," he cut her off, "did you last have a reason to use those?"
Never, but she wasn't going to tell him that. "A lady doesn't speak of such things."
One finger gently moved the curls, tucking them behind one ear. "When did you last do this? Make love to someone?"
She swallowed hard. His assertions earlier that she was too scared to be involved with anyone—especially him—had hit a little close to home. But she wasn't going to lie. She couldn't.
"Last summer. With you."
"And before that?"
He'd asked her the same question in their Vegas hotel room, moments before he'd joined his body with hers, surrounded by bubbles in that oversize tub. When she'd told him it had been over a year, he'd slowed, allowing her body to get used to him. He'd been so deliberate and gentle, she'd sworn she was going to explode from the need to have him deep inside her.
"You know the answer. You asked me in—"
"Vegas." He finished the sentence with her, his eyes bright. "You remember that?"
She nodded, tightening her hold to the post. "I remember."
His mouth came crashing down again and it took all her strength not to let go. Her body arched, pushing her fabric-covered breasts against his chest. Then she felt his fingers making quick work of the buttons. He parted the top and broke free from her mouth, his gaze on hers as he covered, then cupped her breasts with his hands. She jumped at his touch.
"Cold hands?"
Racy nodded. Then his thumbs rasped over her nipples, and she was powerless to keep her eyes open. A low mew escaped, despite biting down on her bottom lip. Wet heat from his mouth engulfed her as he pulled first one nipple, then the other, between his lips.
He knelt before her, his mouth and hands concentrating on her breasts, stomach and hips. His lips slid over her belly button, his tongue playing with the tiny martini-glass-shaped charm that hung there.
"This is so sexy." His voice rumbled against her skin. Her stomach muscles clenched, causing the drawstring waistband to slip even farther down her hips. "When'd you get it?"
"Ah, the weekend after Vegas."
He paused, his fingers tightening on her hips. "Why?"
Racy's breath hitched. "Huh?"
"Why did you get it?"
"I've wanted one for a long time."
He pulled back. She knew he was looking up at her. A dip of her head told her she was right when her gaze collided with his.
"Why?" he repeated.
"I needed a distraction," she finally admitted, knowing his pit-bull determination wasn't going to let this go. "From the memories."
His mouth curved into a smile that could've been labeled mocking if it weren't for the naked joy in his eyes. His mouth was back on her skin and then moved lower. She felt her pants slip silently to the floor. Her overhead grip on the bedpost tightened even more, her fingers sliding down behind her head as Gage slowly dragged her lacy white thong down her hips, the fabric scraping every inch of her skin on its way to her toes.
His hands wrapped around her thighs, coaxing and caressing. Combined with the gentle pressure of his mouth, it left her powerless as her hips rocked in silent invitation. Deep in her center coiled a hunger that could only be sated with his touch, his kiss. His mouth moved closer, his beard leaving a trail of fiery heat on her skin until he finally reached her core.
Pleasure ripped though her as he loved her with his tongue, his mouth, his hands. She cried out when her release came too soon. Unable to keep her hands in place any longer, they fell to his shoulders, fingertips biting into his skin as he drove her higher and higher in an arching spiral of heated euphoria. She shivered as ripples of sexual energy echoed through her veins.
Gage finally rose and pulled her into the welcoming heat of his arms. "Still cold, baby?"
She shook her head, unable to find her voice as another shudder racked her body.
"Why don't you get under the covers, anyway?"
Racy had no idea where she got the strength, but she crawled across the plush quilts to snuggle beneath, the cool sheets welcome against her heated skin. Numerous pillows cradled her head and despite the heaviness of her eyelids, she opened them when she didn't feel the weight of Gage following her.