Читать книгу A Passionate Proposal - Emilie Rose - Страница 9

The view from where he stood almost made Cort forget his brother had railroaded him into attending his high school’s ten-year reunion.

A squeal drew his gaze from the rear view of the perfectly shaped female in front of him to the gal springing from her chair at the reception desk. She bounded around the table and hugged him. “Cort Lander. Oh my gosh. We had no idea you were coming. I thought you were in North Carolina.”

The owner of those incredible legs stiffened in her sensible shoes but she didn’t turn or interrupt her conversation with the man he recognized as his old gym teacher.

The squealer pointed to her puckered lips. “I’ll forgive you for not letting me know you were coming if you plant one right here.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the woman with the great tush said as she turned.

Tracy Sullivan. He’d recognize her prim tone anywhere. A grin spread across his face.

Tracy’s tightly twisted red hair had darkened to the color of the cinnamon sugar he sprinkled on his toast, but her serious caramel-colored eyes hadn’t changed one bit. Neither had those lips. Damned if she didn’t have the greatest mouth he’d ever seen, but as she’d been the sister of one of his teammates, that sexy mouth of hers had always been off-limits.

She moved forward. Whoa, where did she get those curves? Hadn’t she been a beanpole in high school? His gaze rolled over hills and valleys he didn’t remember, and his pulse accelerated.

Tracy’s brows lowered in a mock scowl, but she couldn’t completely suppress the smile twitching her lips. “Libby’s married to the football coach, and if she doesn’t stop accosting every man who comes through the door, her husband is going to tackle someone.”

Libby ignored the warning, grabbed his shirt with both hands and yanked him forward. His gaze locked with Tracy’s as Libby smacked her lips against the corner of his mouth. Libby turned him loose, grabbed Tracy’s hand and dragged her forward. “Come on, girl, get yours.”

His heart missed a beat. Normally he wouldn’t let himself be coerced into kissing anyone, but the blush rising from Tracy’s collar and spreading across the creamy skin of her cheeks was an endearing reminder of the freckle-faced girl who’d tutored him through high school English. Without her, he never would have graduated.

And it wasn’t as if this was the first time he’d considered kissing her. He let his gaze drift to her lips, and his mouth dried.

Her blush intensified. “I don’t think—”

He cupped his hand around her nape and smothered her protest with his lips. He meant to pull back after a quick buss, but his lips lingered on the softness of hers, sinking in and savoring. The sensation of coming home washed over him, which made no sense whatsoever since he and Josh had been home for days. Best he could figure it had something to do with her scent. Tracy smelled like home—hers, not his—apple pie and oatmeal cookies.

Her fingers curled into his chest, and her gasp of surprise pulled air from his lungs. His sanity followed right along behind it. Her silky hair brushed his knuckles, and his groin stirred.

A wolf whistle reminded him where he was and who he was with. Tracy. David’s sister.

Down boy.

He released her slowly and struggled to regulate his breathing. His heart pounded in his ears like a jackhammer, and his blood raced through his veins as if pushed by a turbocharged engine. He hadn’t been with a woman since Kate, and it was clear his body was aware of that fact.

That was the only reason kissing Tracy had set him on his ear. Wasn’t it?

Tracy stood rooted to the spot, looking as stunned as she had the day she’d caught him skinny-dipping in Doc Finney’s stretch of the Nueces River, and then she gathered herself and went starchy—the same as she had a decade ago. She might be aiming for cool, but the rapid rise and fall of her breasts beneath her blue dress told another story. “That was unnecessary.”

Unnecessary and probably unwise, but he couldn’t help wanting to kiss her damp lips again. He grinned and shook his head at the absurdity of wanting to kiss his pal, his buddy, his drill sergeant. “Time looks real good on you, Trace.”

Her face took on a tomato hue, and her fingers knotted. “I…you…thank you, Cort.”

They stood there gawking at each other until Libby grabbed each of them by the elbow and steered them toward the darkened corner of the gym reserved for dancing. Cort nodded to old acquaintances as they passed, but Libby’s frog march didn’t allow him time to stop and talk.

“Isn’t Cort just the hunkiest thing, Tracy? Y’all dance and I’ll cut in when my shift at the welcome table is over.” Libby left them.

He faced Tracy and extended his hand. Her gaze bounced off his and returned. After what looked like a bracing breath, she curled her fingers around his palm. A hot flush washed over his body just as it had the first time he’d taken Tracy into his arms. He tried to concentrate on the up-tempo country song, but he hadn’t two-stepped in years. His movements were awkward and the distracting reaction of his body to Tracy’s wasn’t helping his coordination, since the oxygenated blood from his brain pooled about a yard short of his feet.

They’d only taken a dozen steps when Tracy scolded him. “You shouldn’t let Libby’s silly challenges goad you into action. I swear, you’d think people would change in ten years, but—”

“It’s good to see you, too,” he interrupted. Chuckling, he shifted his hand on her waist, searching for a spot where the heat of her skin didn’t penetrate the thin fabric of her dress to singe his palm.

“I didn’t know you were home.” Did he imagine the hitch in her voice?

“I’ve only been here a few days, and I won’t be staying long.” As soon as he figured out how in the hell to put his life back together, he’d return to Durham.

“You’re still in the residency program at Duke?”

“Yes, I…took some time off.” Tracy had always expected the best from him, and for some reason he didn’t want to admit to her that he’d been hit by the Lander curse. He’d screwed up and gotten a woman pregnant the same way his father and one of his brothers had. A medical school graduate ought to know better.

Twenty-one pounds of hindsight had dropped in his lap last week, and he still hadn’t figured out how he was going to handle that much…knowledge and continue his training.

The band switched to a slow ballad, and the lights dimmed. He pulled Tracy closer, but she stiffened and leaned away. “We don’t have to do this.”

“Why not? It’s not like we haven’t danced before. Prom night. Right here in this gym. Remember?”

And just like prom night, he couldn’t control the action going on in his britches. Come on, man, get a grip. This is your pal, Tracy.

Her lush lips flattened. “I remember.”

Whoa. Definite frostbite. Either she’d guessed his struggle or… “Do I have bad breath or something?”

She glanced at his mouth and then away. His lips tingled. “No, but I’d rather not take a trip down memory lane.”

“Isn’t that what a reunion is all about?” She squirmed in his hold, looking ready to bolt. Reluctant to let her go, he changed the subject. “What are you doing now?”

“Teaching.”

Surprise made him stumble or maybe it was exhaustion. His thigh brushed between hers, and a distracting prickle followed his veins uphill. Oh man. Another jolt like that and everybody in the gym would be able to see his adolescent reaction. “I didn’t know you wanted to teach.”

“We never discussed my plans. We focused on your goals.” Her gaze never left his chin.

“Ouch. Was I a selfish SOB?”

“No. You were the youngest in your family. The world tends to revolve around the one occupying that niche.” He didn’t hear a reprimand in her tone, only a statement of fact.

It was his turn to squirm. “And you were the oldest, the one in charge of the Sullivan herd. Are you still cracking the whip over David and the rest of your brothers and sisters?”

Her gaze flicked to his and away again before he could figure out what kind of thoughts she had running around in her head. “My family’s still around.”

No doubt her siblings had left her holding down the fort with the parents—not that she’d complain. Tracy had always been big on responsibility. “Where are you teaching?”

“Here.”

“Here, as in Texas or here as in…here?”

“I teach English here at County.” Her expression dared him to make something of it, and her spine stiffened beneath his fingers. He fought the urge to massage the tense muscles.

“You’re probably good at it, but I’ll bet you’re tough. You were with me, and I can’t tell you how much I learned to appreciate that once I hit college.”

His comment seemed to fluster her. “Yes, well, I’m hoping to become the principal soon—if I can penetrate the all-boys club.” Pride and steely determination tilted her chin and exposed the slim column of her neck bared by the V-neck dress.

He struggled with an unexpected impulse to bury his face in the pale skin and cleared his throat. “So you’re doing well?”

She focused on a point beyond his shoulder. “Yes, my career—my life—is right on target.”

Good. At least somebody’s was. His sure had taken an unexpected detour, and where he’d go from here was anybody’s guess. He had to figure that out—pronto.

An enthusiastic couple careened in their direction. Cort shifted his hold and swung her out of the way. His feet tangled as if someone had tied his shoestrings together, and he ended up pressed against Tracy from shoulder to knee. She went poker stiff, and he realized he had a handful of the curvaceous bottom he’d admired earlier. Dormant hormones awoke with the clamor of a marching band and paraded south in formation. Swift and unexpected desire made his mouth water and his skin flush.

For Tracy. Oh, hell.

His weird thoughts had to be a by-product of exhaustion. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since he’d picked up Josh. The kid cried all the time and his sleep cycle was nonexistent. They’d both be happier as soon as he could figure out why.

“Excuse me.” The chill in her voice and the look in her eyes warned him he might lose a few digits—among other things—if he didn’t move. Fast.

He missed another step and slid against her. The hard tips of her soft breasts teased his chest. His senses rioted. She couldn’t possibly miss his condition. Embarrassed, he put a few inches between them.

“Do you mind if we sit the rest of this one out? I could use some caffeine.” Or a cold shower.

“By all means. Refreshments are this way.” Was that a quaver in her voice? Tracy pulled free and led the way across the gym in a long, sure stride.

For several seconds his knees locked, refusing to move. When did she add that seductive sway to her walk? He gave himself a mental kick in the pants and followed at a slower pace. His professor of abnormal psychology would have a field day with this. Was the combination of fatigue and sex deprivation the root of his problem? Or had bookworm Tracy Sullivan transformed into a goddess sometime during the past decade?

He shrugged it off. Either way it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be here long enough to find out. Besides, even if he didn’t have to worry about her brother anymore there were some things a guy just didn’t do with a pal. Loving ’em and leaving ’em ranked number one on the list.

She handed him a glass of soda when he reached her side, and he chugged the icy liquid.

Libby bounced up. “Hey, you two, this isn’t a funeral.”

He welcomed the interruption and tried to realign his thinking while Libby babbled at an auctioneer’s pace about who’d done what, when and where. Cort lost track of her convoluted tale, focusing instead on the emotions chasing across Tracy’s face. Had he offended her?

His brain tuned back in when Libby said, “Tracy is without her usual summer nanny job and without a tenant for her upstairs apartment. And if I know you, Tracy, you’ve spent every spare dime on your baby brother and your needs-to-get-a-life-and-a-job sister. What will you do for money?”

Tracy looked mortified. “I will manage.”

“Didn’t you just pay Vance’s tuition for next semester?”

Could Tracy’s youngest brother be old enough for college?

“Libby—”

“I swear your family wrings every last cent out of you.”

“Enough, Libby.”

Whoa. That must be the voice she would use to yank students back in line. It sure made him stand up straighter. He wiped a smile off his face, remembering the times in her momma’s kitchen when she’d used that tone to haul him back on task. Yes, now that he thought about it, he could see her as a teacher. She’d always maintained order in the chaos of the Sullivan kitchen.

“I’m certain Cort would rather talk about his training. What are you studying now, Cort?” She stretched her lips into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

He winked to acknowledge her change of subject and almost forgot her question when she bit her lip and flushed. “I just finished my E.R. rotation. I’m specializing in cardiothoracic surgery.”

“Oooh, E.R.,” Libby gushed. “I love that show.”

Tracy’s smile faded and a frown pleated her brows. “What happened to your plan to come back here and practice at Doc’s clinic?”

“Dad.”

She laid a hand on his forearm. “You chose cardio because of your father’s heart attack?”

Tracy had always been a toucher, but he didn’t remember her touch burning his skin before. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Without that surgeon, Dad wouldn’t have made it.”

She snatched her hand away and knotted her fingers. “Your father seems very happy with Penny. Married life suits him.”

“Yes, it does.” Cort hadn’t been home five minutes before he figured out that he was a lone wolf—albeit with a cub in tow. His father had remarried, and each of his brothers had wives and children. Crooked Creek, the family ranch where he’d grown up, now belonged to his older brother Patrick.

He felt like an intruder at the ranch, but he had no idea where else to go or what to do with himself and his son for the summer. Taking Josh back to the two-bedroom apartment he shared with three other medical residents was out of the question, because even if he could find child care, his roommates wouldn’t tolerate a baby crying in the middle of the night.

He couldn’t keep imposing on Patrick and his wife, Leanna, but he’d yet to come up with an affordable alternative. “What’s this about being a nanny? I would think you’d have had enough baby-sitting when you were younger.”

“I did, but working for this family each summer gives me an opportunity to travel. We toured Europe last year and the Hawaiian islands the year before that. We were headed for Australia this year.”

“Sounds fun.” He didn’t remember Tracy ever doing anything just for the hell of it. He’d tried and failed to tempt her into playing hooky numerous times.

“Enjoyable and educational,” she corrected.

That was Tracy. To her, both words meant the same thing. He bit down on a smile. If he’d ever figured out a way to convince her that skipping homework could be educational, he might have stood a chance at getting her to cut loose.

Beside him Libby wiggled to the music. “Are you married, Cort?”

“No.” And with Josh in the picture, he wouldn’t even be dating anytime soon, but he wasn’t about to tell Libby about Kate or the surprise she’d left him. It’d be all over town before sunup.

Libby gaped. “Why not?”

Tracy pinned him with a look that made him feel as if he’d forgotten his homework. “My training comes first and I still have five years to go.”

Libby shimmied. “But aren’t you already a doctor?”

“Yes, but I’m not a surgeon.”

“Oh, please, a doctor’s a doctor. I want my dance.” Libby grabbed his elbow and dragged him toward the dance floor.

Tracy released her breath and touched her fingertips to her lips. Running into Cort Lander was not the highlight of her evening.

She’d been over her crush on him for years. Hadn’t she? So why had her body flushed the minute she’d heard Libby say his name? And why did her thoughts scatter like dandelion seeds on the wind each time he touched her? And that kiss! She’d nearly collapsed at his feet. Her knees might never recover.

She tried to look away from the couple on the dance floor, but couldn’t. Cort had changed. He’d left home as a rough-and-ready cowboy, but he’d returned with an urban polish. His thick, dark hair smoothly cupped his head without a single glossy curl out of place. Time had chiseled away the youthful softness of his jaw, deepened his voice and erased every hint of the slow Texas drawl that used to make her melt like ice cream in July. Unfortunately, the changes had only improved on an already potent product.

She couldn’t remember ever seeing him in anything other than jeans or a basketball uniform. Tonight he seemed taller in his pressed khakis, and his shoulders looked broader beneath a pale yellow oxford cloth shirt. The man oozed confidence, and darned if she didn’t find that incredibly sexy.

Good Lord, would she never learn?

She shook her head and sipped her cola. Remember what had happened the last time you gave your heart to Cort Lander? When he’d asked her to the senior prom, she’d thought he returned her feelings. Instead, he’d asked her because her brother had told him that no one else had. A pity date.

She had his basketball buddies—her brother among them—to thank for clearing up that little misconception.

Her only consolation was that Cort apparently never had a clue about the colossal crush she’d had on him in high school.

On the positive side, if bad things came in threes, then between her tenant bailing, her summer job fizzling and the man of her adolescent dreams reappearing she’d met her quota this week. Her luck should now take a turn for the better.

Cort looked up and his gaze met hers across the crowded gym floor. The corner of his mouth tilted in a sympathetic smile, and something inside her twisted. What was Libby telling him now? She cringed. Her best friend was well acquainted with every dirty secret Tracy owned, and bless Libby’s heart, if she knew something, then everyone else soon would. She hadn’t earned the nickname of Loose Lips Libby for nothing.

She could imagine the words “Tracy must be the oldest virgin in McMullen County. Can you believe it? And since she hasn’t had a date in the last five years her status isn’t likely to change.”

Libby told her often enough to get out there and play ball so that she’d be familiar with the rules of the game. Unfortunately, Tracy had known the entire male population of the area since kindergarten and didn’t have the slightest urge to become intimate with any of them. Her lack of interest probably had something to do with the knowledge that most of them were proud of their ability to burp the alphabet.

Swallowing hard, she smoothed her hands over her new linen dress. She’d have to cut in before Libby blabbed more secrets, and that held about as much appeal as a root canal.

Calm. In control. Professional. Silently reciting her mantra, she inhaled and exhaled. She could do this, but it would have been easier if Cort had widened around the middle and thinned on the top like most of their classmates.

It would be easier if she didn’t still feel the imprint of his hand on her butt.

At that moment Cort yawned and stumbled again. The man must be exhausted. Honestly, some people had no sense of when to quit partying and go home to bed.

Tsking, Tracy marched across the floor and tapped her friend’s shoulder. After a sly look, Libby surprisingly relinquished her prize without argument.

This time Tracy ignored her embarrassment and looked at Cort—really looked at him—noting the purple smudges beneath his brown eyes and the tired slump of his wide shoulders. She fought the urge to smooth his dark hair and pull his tired head to her shoulder. Her heart quickened just thinking about such a bold move, but of course she’d never do such a thing—especially with so many people watching.

“You’re dead on your feet. Why are you here when you should be in bed?” She hoped he didn’t notice the catch in her voice when his fingers curled around hers or the fact that she had never learned to dance worth beans.

Cort’s brows rose, and a teasing sparkle lit his eyes. His amazingly sensual mouth curved in a smile. “Is that an invitation?”

Her cheeks flamed and her stomach dropped to her shoes. She glanced over her shoulders to make sure no one had overheard. “It most certainly is not. With the way you’re stumbling around, you’re an accident waiting to happen.”

“And I thought you liked my style.” He tried and failed to smother another yawn as he two-stepped her around the floor.

She didn’t take it personally—even though one of her dates in college had informed her that she could bore a man to death. “Your style is absent tonight…along with your coordination. Would you like for me to drive you home?”

“I can make it under my own steam.”

He looked as if he’d doze off standing up if he stopped moving. “Twenty miles down a straight, dark stretch of road? I’m afraid you’ll fall asleep at the wheel.”

“Are you trying to mother me, Trace?” A gentle smile touched his lips.

She winced. According to her siblings, she mothered everyone. “No. Yes. Probably.”

“Thanks. I’ll accept your offer.” He yawned again. “Guess I’m not much of a party animal tonight, but I sure am glad I came. Wouldn’t have wanted to miss seeing you.”

Warmth swept through her, but she stopped it. Cort was just being polite. He’d always been polite. Too polite. Back in high school she’d wished just once he would grab her and kiss her senseless. She’d have willingly done whatever he wanted in the back of his pickup, but he’d saved that treat for the more popular girls. That was then, and now she had better sense. Thanks to her youngest sister, she’d learned exactly what folks around here called gals who did such a thing.

“My car is the dark-blue sedan parked near the flagpole. I’ll meet you there in five minutes.”

His brows dipped. “We can’t leave together?”

“People will talk.”

“If you don’t want to be seen leaving with me, then I’ll get myself home.”

God save her from the male ego. Oh, bother. “Let me tell Libby where I’m going and why.”

Five minutes later Cort crammed his long-legged frame into the passenger seat beside her. The car seemed darker, smaller and more intimate than when she’d parked it two hours ago. Lord, the man smelled good—like one of those expensive samples that came in her magazines. She tried not to be obvious when she drew in another whiff and then exhaled shakily.

“In a few minutes you’ll be home and tucked in.”

He slanted a sexy, sleepy look in her direction, and she nearly backed into the flagpole. Her mouth dried and her heart hammered. She double-checked to make sure her fingers hadn’t turned into thumbs on the steering wheel, because it certainly felt that way.

A mile down the road the tightness in her throat subsided enough for her to ask, “Are you and your brothers keeping late hours catching up?”

Silence. Tracy glanced at Cort as she drove beneath the area light at the Farm and Ranch Store. He’d fallen asleep. The straight road and the full moon gave her the opportunity to look her fill. Once she’d dreamed of marrying this guy and living happily ever after. But, of course, that was before she’d discovered his plan to go to college halfway across the country. Just as well, popular jocks like Cort never dated geeks like her except out of pity.

Minutes later she parked in front of the Lander home. Moonlight slanted through the windshield, and a cool breeze swept fresh air through the open car windows. Being with Cort brought back bittersweet memories, which she’d deliberately suppressed in the past few years. She didn’t like remembering where she’d come from. Instead, she focused on where she was going.

Their community didn’t have a train track, but it did have a landfill, and the Sullivan house was on the wrong side of it. Folks had pitied them, donated clothes and old toys to them, but she’d never noticed Cort looking down his nose at her. He never seemed to see the shabby house and furnishings, and he never complained about her siblings storming through the kitchen for snacks during their study sessions. If anything, he seemed to like coming to her house for tutoring. As long as the cookie jar was full, Cort had been a willing visitor.

Much as she would like to sit here and reminisce, she had to get back to the gym before folks—namely Libby—started talking. Curving her fingers over the thick muscles of his shoulder, she shook him awake. “Cort, you’re home.”

His eyelids slowly lifted and he smiled sleepily. “Thanks, Trace. You’re a pal.”

“So I’ve been told. Good night, Cort. I’ll see you around.”

He leaned over and brushed his lips against hers before she realized his intentions. Her heart pounded, and she had to fight the urge to twine her arms around his neck. She’d come a long way in the past decade, but men like Cort never settled for less than the best. He sat back and she licked her lips. His taste lingered.

“Count on it.” He winked and sauntered away.