Pure Temptation. Vicki Thompson Lewis
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expected him to stay around and gradually take over what they’d worked so hard to build. As the only child, he couldn’t foist off that obligation on anybody else.
Tess had it easier, although she was forever complaining about how hard it was for a woman to “go on a quest,” as she put it. But she was doing it, and he wasn’t. Her mom and dad hated having her leave town, especially for some faraway place like New York City, but they still had four sons, their wives and seven grandchildren. With such a slew of Blakelys around, Tess didn’t have to feel guilty about grabbing her chance at independence. Mac envied her that freedom.
“Top ’o the mornin’ to ye, MacDougal.”
He buckled the cinch on Peppermint Patty and turned to smile at Tess. She used to greet him that way for months after she’d starred in Copperville High’s version of Brigadoon, and hearing it again brought back memories.
They’d rehearsed her lines in the tree house in her folks’ backyard. At one point he’d almost kissed her, but only because the script called for it, of course. Then they’d both decided the kiss wasn’t necessary for her to learn the part. He’d been relieved, of course, because kissing Tess would seem weird. But at the time he’d kind of wanted to try it, anyway.
“Aye, and it’s a fine mornin’, lass,” he said. She looked great, as always, but there was something different about her this morning. He studied her, trying to figure it out. “Did you cut your hair?”
“Not since the last time you saw me.” She used her fingers to comb it away from her face. “Why, does it look bad?”
“No. It looks fine.” In twenty-three years of watching Tess create new looks with her thick brown hair, he’d lived through braids, kinky perms, supershort cuts, even red streaks. Once he’d given her a haircut himself after she got bubble gum stuck in it. Neither set of parents had been impressed with his barbering skills. He liked the way she wore it now, chin-length and simple, allowing her natural wave to show.
“Is there a spot on my shirt or something?” She glanced down at the old Copperville Miners T-shirt she wore.
“Nope.” He nudged his hat to the back of his head with his thumb. “But I swear something’s different about you.” He stepped closer and took her chin in his hand. “Are you wearing some of that fancy department-store makeup?”
“To go riding? Now that would be stupid, wouldn’t it?”
He gazed at her smooth skin and noticed that her freckles were in full view and her mouth was its normal pink color. Her eyelashes were soft and fluttery, not spiky the way they had been in high school when she’d caked on the mascara. Nope, no makeup.
But as he looked into her gray eyes, he figured out what was bothering him. They were best friends and didn’t keep things from each other, or at least they hadn’t until now. This morning, for whatever reason, Tess had a secret. It changed her whole expression, making her seem mysterious, almost sexy. Not that he ever thought of Tess as sexy. No way.
Despite himself, he was intrigued. Even a little excited. He didn’t associate Tess with mystery, and it was a novel concept. He decided to wait and let the secret simmer in those big gray eyes of hers. It was fun to watch.
He tweaked her nose and stepped back. “I guess I’m seeing things. You’re the same old Tess. Ready to mount up?” To his amazement, she blushed. Tess never blushed around him. They knew each other too well.
“Um, sure,” she mumbled, heading straight for Peppermint Patty without looking at him, her cheeks still very pink. “We’re burning daylight.”
While he stood there trying to figure out what he’d said to make her blush, she climbed quickly into the saddle and started out. As he mounted he continued to watch her, and he could swear she shivered. With the temperature hovering around eighty-five on this June morning, he didn’t think she was cold. This might be the most interesting morning ride he’d ever had with Tess.
MAYBE ASKING FOR Mac’s help wouldn’t be so simple, after all, Tess thought as she headed for the trail leading to the river. Here she was blushing over some offhand remark he’d made about mounting up. Or maybe she’d spent too much time reading those books, and every conversation had sexual overtones now. She certainly couldn’t go to New York keyed up like this. It would be good to get this whole business over with.
Ducking an occasional overhanging mesquite branch, she rode at a trot ahead of him on the dusty trail. He knew something was up. She never could keep anything from him, so she might as well lay out her plan as soon as they got to their favorite spot by the river. As kids they’d used the sandy bank for fierce battles between their Star Wars action figures, and when they were older, they’d come out here to drink colas and talk about whatever was going on in their lives. Tess had never shared the hideaway with anyone else, and neither had Mac, as far as she knew.
The riverbank was where they’d gone after Chewbacca died. They’d talked about heaven, and had decided horses had to be there or they weren’t interested in going. They’d headed out here after Mac broke his arm and couldn’t try out for Little League, and the day Tess had won a teddy bear at the school carnival. Before either of them knew anything about sex, they’d spent time by the river talking about whether men and women made babies the same way horses and dogs and goats did.
Later on, Mac had put a stop to their discussions on that topic. Now Tess wanted to reopen the discussion, but she wasn’t sure if she had the courage.
“So what’s your summer project this year?” Mac called up to her. “I know you always have one.”
A perfect opening, but she didn’t want to blurt it out while they were riding. “I’m still thinking about it.” She drew confidence from the familiar rhythm of the little mare, the friendly squeak of saddle leather and the comfort of breathing in the dry, sweet air of early morning.
“Really? Hell, you usually have something planned by April. I’ll never forget that summer you got hooked on Australia—you playing that god-awful didgeridoo while you made me cook shrimp on the barbie.”
“How did I know it would spook the horses?”
Mac laughed. “The sound of that thing would spook a corpse. Do you ever play it anymore, or are you taking pity on your neighbors?”
“Watch yourself, or I’ll be forced to remind you of the time you mooned my brothers.”
“That was totally not my fault. You could have told me the bridge club was coming out to admire your mom’s roses.”
Tess started to giggle. “So help me, I tried.”
“Sure you did.”
“The boys stopped me! I felt terrible that it happened.”
“Uh-huh. That’s why you busted a gut laughing and why you bring it up on a regular basis.”
“Only in self-defense.” She barely had to guide Peppermint Patty down the trail after all the times the horse had taken her to the river. The horses flushed a covey of quail as they trotted past.
She could smell the river ahead of them, and obviously so could Peppermint Patty. The mare picked up the pace. As always, Tess looked forward to her first glimpse of the miniature beach surrounded almost entirely by tall reeds. The perfect hideout.
As the mare reached the embankment and started down toward the sand, her hooves skidded a little on the loose dirt, but she maintained her balance, having years of experience on this particular slope. In front of them the river gurgled along, about fifty feet wide at this point. Other than a few ducks diving for breakfast and a mockingbird trilling away on a cottonwood branch across the river, the area was deserted.
There was no danger that anyone would overhear their discussion, and she trusted Mac to listen seriously without laughing as she laid out her problem and asked for his help. She couldn’t have a better person in whom to place her confidence. Yet no matter how many times she told herself those things, her stomach clenched