Redwolf's Woman. Laura Wright
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“The…truth,” she fairly stuttered as she turned away sharply, searching for the right words anywhere else but in his eyes.
She didn’t get very far.
Her hand brushed against the picnic table, knocking over the pitcher of lemonade. She fought for her footing as ceramic crashed against brick, as liquid and ice spilled everywhere. Her pulse pounded in her ears. In an instant, she was on her knees grabbing for the shards of orange and green earthenware, Jared beside her.
Her mind churned at a hundred miles an hour. He wanted to hear the truth. But which truth?
Ava sucked in her breath and dropped a shard of broken pottery. Clutching her hand to her breast, she glanced down, her index finger stinging and aching. Tiny droplets of blood fell from her finger onto the ground and onto the jagged square of ceramic.
Jared reached for her hand. “You cut yourself.”
“I’m fine,” she said, pulling away from him. The last thing she needed was for him to touch her.
“Let me see it, Ava.”
“No. It’s nothing.”
He took her hand anyway. Wasn’t that just like him, she thought as she gave in to his strong, callused fingers, prying open her tight fist. A small gash marred her index finger. Nothing serious, just a bad scrape, but Jared was really focused on it. He grabbed one of the quickly melting ice cubes off the ground and placed it on the cut.
Ava sucked in her breath at the sharp pain.
“Sorry,” he whispered, rolling the ice over the cut in small circles. “It isn’t deep. No permanent damage done.”
She glanced up at him, her traitorous gaze tracing the open collar of his shirt, then stopping to stare at his smooth, tanned chest cut with pure corded muscle. Her fingers twitched in remembrance of how his chest felt beneath her hands, against her breasts. Beads of ice water trickled down her wrist, begging her pulse to slow.
“Ava, dinner’s ready.”
Rita called her from what seemed like a land far, far away. But it was enough. Ava pulled her hand and her gaze away from Jared and stood up.
He followed suit. “You should get some peroxide on that.”
She nodded.
“And I should go.” He touched the brim of his hat and started to walk away.
Last chance. To what? she thought. Run away, escape, try to get out of this neighborly call that wasn’t going to turn out very neighborly? She said, “Listen, Jared, about tomorrow.”
He turned and cut her a sideways glance. “What about it?”
She bit her lip. This was getting ridiculous. There was no escaping the inescapable. He deserved the truth. Hell, he demanded it. And whatever happened tomorrow she’d deal with it—here or back in New York. At least she and Jared could be free of a four-year burden. She took a deep breath, praying that he was ready to hear what she had to say. “We’ll be there at noon.”
Three
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