Читать книгу Redwolf's Woman - Laura Wright, Laura Wright - Страница 9

She stood above him, unbuttoning her blouse at the pace of a lazy river tumbling over smooth stones. Wrapped in the gentle light of a crescent moon, she locked her gaze with his and bared one creamy shoulder, then the other. A smile tugged at her full lips as she dropped her arms to her sides, allowing the silky fabric to fall to the grass beside her bare feet.

Even the cool grass beneath him couldn’t quell the searing heat that shot straight to his groin. He was hard and waiting. He was always hard and waiting when she looked at him that way: determined and far past hungry.

A sudden breeze moved past, catching her hair, blowing it about her face. Her nipples beaded beneath the sheer, pale-pink bra she wore. She was beautiful, and he couldn’t stop his gaze from traveling lower to her smooth abdomen, downward to what other surprises awaited him. His throat went dry as he witnessed the shadow between her thighs. It was heaven barely masked by the slip of pink at her hips.

“Say it, Jared,” she whispered, lowering herself on top of him.

He chuckled, cupped her buttocks firmly and whispered, “Happy birthday, Ava,” against her neck as he rolled them sideways.

She lay beneath him, her sweet scent intoxicating—like honey and wildflowers.

“I want your mouth,” she said.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he lowered his head to within inches of hers, their mouths a breath away. She ran her tongue over her lower lip and arched her hips up to him, her eyes pooling desire.

He cupped her face in his hands, ready to take what was his, what he’d been waiting for for years—maybe all of his life.

Suddenly her eyes clouded over. “Jared. I… I have to—”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “You don’t have to do anything, sweetheart, but relax and enjoy.”

Her gaze flickered to his mouth, then returned to his eyes as though she were pondering his offer. Then her hands found his face, her fingers found his hair and he groaned, leaning into her palms. “Ava. I love when you touch me.”

“Jared, I have to go,” she breathed, her hands continuing to caress him.

He felt himself nod. “Later.”

“Now.” Her voice was insistent, but calm.

Through foggy eyes, he tried to focus. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I don’t love you. I’ve never loved you.” Unrelentingly she raked her fingers through his hair, held him tight and moved beneath him. “There’s someone else.”

“No,” he practically growled.

She offered him a teasing smirk before she leaned in and whispered in his ear, “You’re such a fool, Jared Redwolf.”

Jared sat bolt upright, the morning sun assaulting his eyes, his senses, his mind. Tangled in sheets and drenched in sweat, he fought for air—he fought to make sense of what had just happened. His gaze darted right and left. He was in his bed, fists clenched, jaw tight. What the hell? He looked at the clock: 7:30 a.m.

It was back. He rubbed a hand over his face, groaning at that dreaded realization. He hadn’t had that dream in three years. That damn dream that had always had his body aching for Ava, while his mind, his tongue longed to curse her.

Take it easy, Redwolf, he urged. She’ll be gone in a few weeks. Out of your life and your dreams for good.

But what about his mind? he wondered, knifing a hand through his mussed hair. Would there ever be a time when she wasn’t in his thoughts?

He glanced at the clock once again: 7:33. If today went as planned, that hope was possible. And with a little help from Tina Marie Waters tonight, it might even be probable. The sexy redhead was always around, and any time he visited her she’d always ask him to stay late, stay until morning. He’d never stayed before, but maybe he’d just take her up on that offer. Hell, rules were made to be broken. Especially in dire circumstances.

And Ava Thompson was a dire circumstance.

He shut his eyes for a moment only to see her imprint on his mind, standing above him in those pale-pink strips of lace, her skin like satin and her eyes flashing velvet-green desire.

“Dammit!” He opened his eyes, ripped off the bed-covers and jerked out of bed.

After today, she’d be a distant and forgettable memory even if that meant he’d never sleep again.

“I think carrots were the perfect choice.” Ava took her daughter’s hand as they left Killer Chicken Market and stepped out into the sunshine. “If you were a horse what would be your favorite treat?”

“Bubba gum ice cream,” Lily replied without a moment’s hesitation.

Always decisive, Ava mused as she followed her daughter’s example and jumped over the cracks in the wide sidewalk that paralleled Main Street. Where Lily had learned such superstitious behavior was anyone’s guess, but the skipping and jumping and laughing was all good in Ava’s book. She liked to play with her daughter. She hadn’t allowed herself much of an easygoing childhood and Lily was a good teacher. The games definitely took some of the levelheadedness out of Ava, replacing it with a carefree heart. Of course, today, she’d have to skip a good fifty miles to acquire a light heart.

In about a half hour, they were going to see Jared and his horses. Well, Lily was anyway. Ava was just tagging along. And she hated to admit it, but seeing his house, the life he’d made for himself, was a tempting prospect. While seeing him was just plain tempting. Even if it came with a hefty price tag: telling him the truth.

“Don’t let go of my hand, sweetie,” Ava reminded Lily as they walked across the street.

“Mommy, how come nobody honks horns here?”

Ava laughed. “I guess they’re not in a very big hurry.” She looked around, the coolness of a Bigtooth Maple tree overhead giving her a moments respite from the hot sun. “It is pretty quiet compared to Manhattan, isn’t it?”

Lily nodded. “I like it here.”

Ava stopped in front of her car and looked down at her daughter. Really looked, deeply. “Do you, sweetie?”

Lily nodded again, her large, gray eyes bursting with wishes and wants.

The windows to the soul really were just that, and Ava wondered if someone looked deeply enough into her eyes would they see that she wasn’t happy in New York, either. That it wasn’t her home and never would be.

She turned away from her daughter and unlocked the car door. In just a few weeks they had to go back to New York whether they wanted to or not. They’d made a life there, some semblance of a home. Heck, she had a great job and clients who depended on her. She didn’t really belong here.

“That old man’s staring, Mommy.”

Lily’s words pulled Ava out of the fog that held her mind captive and she glanced up. For a moment she could only stare back at the old man across the street that Lily was pointing to, her pulse racing. She hadn’t seen him in four years, but it felt like longer. He hadn’t changed much, but the lines etched in his face were deep and weighty. She cursed herself for wondering what made him look so unhappy—for caring at all after what he’d put her through.

“What’s wrong, Mommy?”

Ava gripped her daughter’s hand, feeling excessively protective. “Nothing, Lil. Let’s go.”

Let’s get out of here before I say something or he says something or—

“Ava?”

Too late.

She stopped where she stood—trying to urge her daughter into the car—and turned to face him. “Hello, Dad.”

Family, and friends of the family, had always kidded with Ben and Olivia Thompson that neither one of their daughters looked anything like either one of them. Two blond kids born to two brunette parents. Ava was certain that she’d inherited a few of her mother’s features, but none of her father’s. Not until today anyway. There it was, plain as day. Not a feature exactly, but an expression—one he’d never worn before—and it surprised her. Doubt and hesitance. She’d seen that very same look a thousand times in the mirror.

He gave her a tentative smile. “You’re home.”

She only nodded. Her throat felt constricted.

“It’s good to see you.” He dropped his gaze to the little girl at her side. “Is this Lily?”

Ava nodded, gripping her daughter’s hand. “Yes.”

Please don’t say anything cruel, she begged silently as she watched him lower onto one knee in front of Lily, his body making all those crunches and cracks that came with age.

“Hi, there,” he said.

“Hi.” Lily moved closer to Ava. “Who are you?”

Ava held her breath, her hand fisting around the car keys.

“I’m your grandpa.”

Lily smiled and gave him a nonchalant shrug. “Okay.”

Relief spread like a warm blanket over and through Ava, but it was swiftly replaced by fear. Fear of her daughter knowing her grandfather and someday being rejected by him. When love was tossed aside in favor of pride, people got hurt. Very hurt. She didn’t trust the man making nice to her daughter.

“It’s my birthday,” Lily was telling him, holding up six fingers. “In this many months.”

He smiled. “I know.”

She giggled. “You do?”

Of course he did. A time that, to Ben Thompson, would most assuredly live in infamy. Next he’d be asking her what she’d like for a present, Ava thought as she tugged on her daughter’s hand. “We have to go, Dad. We’re expected somewhere.”

“I get to see the horsies at Jared’s house,” Lily supplied. “Do you know Jared?”

Ben Thompson came to his feet, the lines around his mouth tightening. “I do.”

Ava turned away, darkness surging through her. He hadn’t changed at all. He was still a sad old bigot. What was she thinking standing here? It was as if she was waiting to be hurt by him again. She opened the back door. “Get in the car, Lil.”