Читать книгу Beneath the Stetson - Джанис Мейнард, Janice Maynard - Страница 10

Four

Bailey looked for signs that Cade was leery of being left with a virtual stranger, but quite the contrary. With his dad out of the picture, Cade was free to resume his interrogation. “What kinds of things do you like to cook?” he asked, returning to the original topic.

“Well, let’s see...” Bailey folded her fancy napkin and laid it beside her plate. The meal had been amazing. Tender beef medallions, fluffy mashed potatoes and sautéed asparagus. A hearty meal that men would enjoy. Not a ladies’ tearoom menu with tiny bowls of soup and miniature sandwiches.

She grinned as Cade poked halfheartedly at his spinach. “I love to bake,” she said. “So I suppose I’m good at bread and pies and cakes.”

Her companion’s eyes rounded. “Birthday cakes, too?”

“I suppose.”

“My birthday is comin’ up real soon, Miss Bailey. Do you think you could make me a birthday cake?”

She hesitated, positive she was negotiating some kind of hidden minefield. “I’ll bet your dad wants to surprise you with a special cake.”

Cade shook his head. “Our housekeeper will make it. But her cakes are awful and Dad says we can’t hurt her feelings.”

Just like that, Bailey fell in love with Cade Addison. How many years had she come home from school on her birthday, hoping against hope that her father had remembered to stop by the corner grocery and pick up a store-bought cake.

But he never did. Not once.

By the time she was nine, Bailey had quit expecting cakes. Two years later, she quit thinking about her birthday at all. It was just another day.

“I tell you what, Cade,” she said, wondering if she were making a huge mistake. “If I’m still here when your birthday rolls around, and if your father doesn’t mind, then yes...I’d be happy to make you a cake.”

Cade whooped out loud and then clapped a hand over his mouth when several people turned around with curious looks. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“It’s okay. This room is noisy anyway. Eat your salad, and when your dad gets back, we’ll order dessert.”

Cade managed four bites with some theatrical gagging, but when Bailey didn’t react, he finished it all. “Done,” he said triumphantly.

She high-fived him. “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“I guess. But I’d rather have ice cream.”

“Who wouldn’t?”

They laughed together. She marveled at the connection she felt with this small, motherless child. On impulse, she leaned forward, lowering her voice, though it was doubtful she’d be overheard in the midst of the loud conversations all around them. Texas cowboys had a tendency to get heated when they discussed politics and religion and the price of feed. There was a lot of testosterone in this room.

“I want to tell you something, Cade.”

He looked up at her trustingly. “Okay.”

“I know you want a mother, but you are a very lucky little boy, because your dad loves you more than anything in the world. Do you know that?”

He seemed surprised she would ask. “Well, yeah. He tells me all the time.”

“Not all dads are like that.” Her throat closed up as unexpected emotion stung her eyes.

Cade stared at her, mute, as if sensing her struggle. “Are you talking about your daddy, Miss Bailey?”

She nodded, trying to swallow the lump. “My mom ran away and left us when I was about your age. And she never came back. So it was just me and my dad. But he wasn’t like your father. He was...” She trailed off, not sure what adjective to use that an almost-five-year-old would understand.

Elbows on table, chin in hand, Cade surveyed her solemnly. “He was mean?”

Out of the mouths of babes. “Well, he didn’t hurt me, if that’s what you’re thinking. But he didn’t care about me. Not like your dad cares about you. Be patient, Cade. One day your father will find a woman he loves and he’ll marry her and you’ll have that mother you want. But in the meantime, be a kid, okay? And not a matchmaker.”

* * *

Gil halted suddenly, shock rendering him immobile. Bailey Collins had just given his son the kind of advice Cade needed to hear. And she had done it lovingly and in a way he could understand at his young age. Gil was torn between gratitude for her interference and compassion for the personal pain she had revealed.

He backed up a step or two and approached the table again, this time more loudly. “You were right, Cade. I bet my lunch is cold. Sorry it took me so long. You ready for dessert?”

Bailey flushed from her throat to her hairline, her expression mortified. “How long have you been standing there?” she asked.

He kept his expression neutral. “I just walked across the room, Bailey. Why?”

“No reason,” she mumbled, taking a gulp from her water glass.

Gil noticed the exchange of glances between his son and Bailey, a conspiratorial look that was oddly unsettling. Gil was accustomed to being his son’s sounding board, his protector, his go-to guy. To see the boy so quickly accept and relate to Bailey made Gil worry. Perhaps he should keep the two of them apart.

When Bailey returned to Dallas, inevitably leaving a heartbroken Cade behind, Gil would have to pick up the pieces. On the other hand, would it be fair to deprive Cade of a relationship that provided him enjoyment in the meantime? Again, the frustration of being a single parent gave Gil heartburn. He was not the kind of man to unburden himself to anyone and everyone.

He had friends. Lots of them. But raising Cade couldn’t be left up to a committee vote. Gil had to decide what was best for his son.

Over ice cream and pound cake, Cade grilled his father. “Are you and Miss Bailey going to do this every day?”

Gil lifted an eyebrow, looking to Bailey to answer that one.

“A week...ten days. I’m working as fast as I can, but it’s slow going.”

Cade grinned widely. “I like the child care center. They have a computer station and about a jillion Lego blocks, and my friends miss me when I don’t come.”

Gil rubbed a smear of ice cream from his son’s chin. “Well, in that case, I’ll set up some meetings with the executive committee for the next few days and get some club business out of the way.”

When the meal was over they dropped off Cade and headed back to Gil’s office. Walking in, he noticed the faint, pleasing scent of Bailey’s perfume lingering in the air, something light and flowery. The scene that transpired in the dining room had affected him deeply. It was hard to mistrust a woman who treated his son with so much gentleness and compassion.

“Do you need any help?” he asked abruptly, wishing he had a reason to stay.

Bailey glanced at him, her gaze guarded. “No. But thanks.”

He leaned a hip against his desk. “What do you do for fun, Bailey Collins?”

“Fun?” The question appeared to confuse her.

“I’m assuming you’ve heard of the word.”

“I have fun,” she said, her tone defensive.

“When?”

Her mouth opened and closed. “I like to read.”

“So do I. In bed. At night. But what do you do in your leisure time?” He shouldn’t have mentioned the word bed. His libido rushed ahead in the conversation and visualized the two of them entwined on soft sheets.

Bailey shrugged. “I work long hours. But in the evenings I like to walk around my neighborhood. It’s a close-knit, established community with sidewalks and people who sit on front porches. I have several older friends I check on from time to time.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It is.”

“And is there a man in your life?” Well, he’d done it now. There was no way she could interpret his question as anything other than what it was. He was attracted to her. And he wanted to know if he’d be stepping on any toes were he to follow up on those feelings.

Bailey glanced at her watch. “I need to get back to work.”

“Does that mean, ‘Back off, Gil’?”

“What? No. Not at all. But I...”

He waited. Silently.

“You don’t even like me,” she said, her expression troubled.

“Correction. I tried not to like you. That first day in the police station when you were grilling me like a seasoned pro, I found you wildly appealing, despite my disgruntlement. And since I am a man who believes in laying all the cards on the table, I think you should know.”

“What changed?”

“Dogs and children are very good judges of character. My son adores you already.”

“But that makes you uncomfortable.”

The sadness lurking in her brown eyes shamed him. “It does. I don’t want him to get too attached to you.”

“Because I’ll be leaving soon.”

“Yes.”

“I suppose I can understand that.”

“It has nothing to do with you personally. But Cade has this unfortunate tendency to latch onto any woman who walks into my life, no matter how briefly.”

“Why haven’t you married again?”

He hadn’t expected the blunt question. It caught him off guard, and for a moment, grief, regret and disappointment flooded his stomach. He shoved the negative feelings away. “There aren’t too many women these days happy to be stuck out on a ranch in the middle of nowhere.”

“Oh, please,” Bailey said, giving him a reproving look. “You’re rich, handsome and successful. I’m sure some poor soul in Royal would apply for the job.”

Her mock scolding erased the momentary sting of allowing the past to intrude. “But not you?”

“I have a job.”

“One that could get you killed.” The realities of her position still disturbed him. Alex needed to get his memory back in a hurry. Before somebody else got hurt. Gil hadn’t meant to change the subject, even if he was genuinely worried about her. “May I be honest with you, Bailey?”

“Please do.”

“As angry as I was with you when we first met, I felt a definite something. In the weeks you’ve been here, I haven’t stopped thinking about that feeling and wondering if it was one-sided.”

She paled and wrapped her arms around her waist, clearly shocked by his candor. “It wasn’t one-sided,” she said quietly.

Exultation flooded his veins, despite the tiny voice inside his head that said he was making a mistake. “Good to know.” The three words were gruff, but it was hard to speak when arousal made his entire body tense with need. “There’s more,” he said.

A tiny smile appeared and disappeared. “I’m bracing myself.”

He stood up, no longer able to feign relaxation. “It’s not easy for a single man my age to live in a place like Royal and do something as prosaic as dating. When Cade was almost three, I tried it for the first time.”

“And?”

“It was terrible. Everyone tried to give me sympathy and child-rearing advice, or they offered to bake me casseroles.”

“Not altogether bad things.”

“Of course not, but I wanted to forget for a while that I was a single dad. I wanted companionship and...”

“Sex.”

He saw no judgment in her gaze, but his cheeks reddened nevertheless. “Yeah,” he sighed. “It would be easier if I lived in a big, anonymous city, but here in Royal everything I do is fodder for the gossip mill. I value my privacy, and I don’t think my personal life needs to be front-page news.”

“But you don’t want to spend a lot of time out of town because of Cade.”

“Exactly.”

“You’ve given up a lot for him.”

Gil frowned. “I haven’t given up anything. He’s my son. And I love him.”

Bailey crossed the tiny distance between them. Putting a hand on his chest, she looked up at him. “You’re a very nice man, Gil Addison.” Her smile warmed him to a sobering degree.

He moved restlessly, fighting the urge to grab her. “It’s not about being nice, damn it. It’s what a parent does.”

Some of the light left her eyes. “Not all of them.”

He wanted to tell her that he had heard what she said to Cade, that his heart broke for a little girl with no mother and a surly dad. But her confidences had to be freely given or not at all. He wouldn’t embarrass her that way. “Cade is the best thing that has ever happened to me. His childhood will pass quickly enough. I don’t want to miss out on anything.”

She went up on tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss on his lips. “If you’re asking me to spend some...time...with you while I’m here, then the answer is yes. I understand the rules. You don’t have to worry. And I will do my best not to let Cade get attached to me.”

He winced. “God, you make me sound like an ass.”

Her expression was wry. “Not at all. You’re simply a straight arrow of a guy who doesn’t hide behind platitudes. I respect that.”

He gave in to temptation and stroked his thumb over her cheekbone. “You have the softest skin,” he muttered. Slowly, he cupped her face in his palms and tipped her mouth toward his. “Have I told you how much your ugly suits turn me on?”

Bailey melted into him. “My suits are not ugly. They’re professional.” Her tongue mated lazily with his, hardening his sex to the point of pain. Of all the dumb ideas he’d ever had, this one ranked right up near the top. The door wasn’t locked. Though no one was likely to disturb them, their current behavior was risky at best.

He kissed his way down her throat, toying with the buttons on her silky top. Bailey’s eyes were closed, her lips parted. More than anything he wanted to bend her over his desk and take her hard and fast. Lust wrapped his brain in a red haze. His hands trembled as he found his way past her blouse to her breasts covered in lace.

Each soft mound was a full, perfect weight in his hand. He squeezed gently, shuddering when Bailey’s low moan went straight to his gut and stoked the fire. He was rapidly reaching the point of no return. The problem with long bouts of celibacy was that a man tended to go a little insane when the woman he wanted was in touching distance.

“Tell me to stop,” he pleaded.

Her hands tore at the lapels of his jacket. He helped her remove it and tossed it aside. He was burning up from the inside out.

“Touch my skin,” she pleaded.

How could he say no? Each delicate nipple furled tightly as he stroked her with reverence. He lifted her onto the desk. Now he could reach her with his mouth. Shoving aside the gossamer cups of her bra, he first licked her, then suckled her, growing more and more hungry with every second that passed.

Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. “Bailey. Bailey...” He didn’t even know what he wanted to say.

“Gil,” her voice was little more than a whisper.

He inhaled sharply, close to begging. “What?”

“I think we have to stop. I don’t want to, but we’re at the club.”

“At the club?” He could barely make sense of the words. He needed to be inside her more than he needed to breathe.

She shoved him, her two hands braced on his shoulders. “Stop, Gil. Please.”

At last her protest penetrated the fog that bound him. He staggered backward, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. It hurt to look at her. He leaned against the file cabinet, burying his face in his arm. Agony ripped through him. He had caged the tiger that was his lust for too long, and now the animal was free.