My Favorite Mistake Page 14
It was hard for me to take my eyes off Redford, though. Seeing him in his natural environment was mesmerizing. He was a big man, could hold his own against a behemoth like Henry when he started to prance around. While still talking, Redford grabbed the lead rope and settled the horse down within seconds.
“He’s something,” Kenzie whispered.
I turned to look at her. “The horse?”
“No, not the horse, silly—Redford.”
“Um…yes, Redford knows his way around horses.”
Kenzie angled her head. “He seems to know his way around you, too. Are you sure there’s no unfinished business between the two of you?”
I looked at her, my throat and chest tight. “I’m engaged, Kenzie.”
She narrowed her eyes. “But you’re not married yet. If you still have feelings for this man, Denise, you’d better find closure now rather than later, when so many lives will be upended.”
Her dialogue was cut short by the appearance of Sam. “Kenzie, are you ready to look at that pony?”
“Oh, yes! Let’s go.”
Redford was shaking hands with the foreman when we walked up, making plans to talk again after he returned to Kentucky. I felt a sad little pang thinking about him leaving, but reminded myself that I, too, would soon be swept back into my regular life.
The four of us followed the handler to a barn, where he handed off Henry, then were led to another building that he called the birthing barn. Inside were more stalls, equally as fancy as in the broodmare barn. He led us to one on the end and opened the stall door. Inside, a brown mother and her leggy gray foal stood nuzzling.
Kenzie fell in love instantly. “Oh, isn’t it the most precious thing you’ve ever seen?”
Sam agreed, but seemed more interested in checking out the foal’s physique.
“This here is Henry’s foal,” the handler said.
I looked at Redford. “So he does get to…um…”
Redford laughed, his eyes merry, then he leaned down. “Eventually you have to let the teaser stud go all the way, or he loses interest altogether.”
My skin burned. Was his remark a veiled threat…or a promise? Was Redford implying that this was my last chance? His expression looked innocent enough, but I knew Redford well enough to know that there wasn’t anything innocent about him.
Kenzie and Sam arranged to come back to get the foal, and Kenzie chattered about it nonstop as we started back to their house. How she wanted their baby to grow up around horses and to have his or her own pony. Sitting in the back seat with her, I nodded, pretending to listen. But I was actually still pondering her earlier warning—if I had unresolved feelings for Redford, I should explore them now, while Redford was here and before I married Barry.
Throughout the day, the skies had grown increasingly leaden, the temperature increasingly colder. And within a few minutes of getting on the road, we encountered freezing rain.
“I was afraid this was going to happen,” Redford said, shifting into a lower gear.
“Don’t worry—we have plenty of room for the two of you to spend the night,” Kenzie piped up.
The panic must have been apparent on my face because she quickly added, “The apartment over the clinic has two beds.”
Which made the atmosphere in the cab of the truck less awkward, for sure.
She gave me an apologetic smile. “I guess I cleared out the guest room in the cabin a bit prematurely.”
My pulse began to race—not at the imminent danger of the weather, but at the possibility of being holed up with Redford. Even if we weren’t in the same bed, it smacked of familiarity, of intimacy.
And if we were in the same bed—
I massaged my temples and puffed out my cheeks in a long exhale—under no circumstances would we be in the same bed.
Then, somewhere from the depths of my brain, in a dark corner that remembered the time in Vegas, an idea formed and an inner voice gave it life: This is your chance…spend the night with Redford…get it out of your system…it can’t be as good as you remember…then you’ll know that Redford isn’t the fantasy man you’ve built him up to be in your mind…you can marry Barry with a clear heart, if not a clear conscience…
The thought circled in my head until I was sure I had ruts worn into my brain. Suddenly I realized that everyone was looking at me, and for one mortifying moment, I thought I’d spoken aloud. Then I realized that we were back at Kenzie and Sam’s. Good grief, how long had I been zoned out?
Kenzie touched my arm. “Redford said it was up to you. Can you take a day of vacation tomorrow and spend the night here?”
Darkness had fallen quickly and ice coated the truck windows, except for the windshield. Freezing rain pinged on the glass. My watch read 6:30 p.m. It would be a treacherous drive back to Manhattan. But from Redford’s solemn expression in the rearview mirror, I knew if I wanted to go, he would deliver me home safely, even if it took all night to get there.
Preserving my chastity, however, didn’t seem worth risking both our lives for. Not simply to make a point. And not simply to remove temptation from my path.
I wet my lips. “I can take a day of vacation tomorrow.” Although, ironically, it might mean one less day I could take for my honeymoon.
“Whew, that’s a relief,” Kenzie said.
I caught Redford’s gaze in the mirror, and there was something burning in his eyes, but I can’t say it was relief. Hope? I pressed my lips together, wondering if I’d made a decision that I’d regret in the morning…if not before.
“Brrr, let’s get inside and warm up,” Kenzie said, then grinned. “And I think the men should fix chili for dinner.”
Sam frowned over the front seat. “I thought spicy foods made you nauseous.”
“Not today,” she sang. “I’m craving peppers.”
Sam looked at Redford. “Looks like we have kitchen duty.”
Redford nodded. “Fair enough.”
“Everyone head for the back door,” Kenzie said. “We can shed wet clothes in the mudroom.”
We sprinted through the icy rain, me slipping and sliding my way toward the house. Redford grabbed my hand and kept me upright. We were both laughing by the time we reached the back door. When we bounded into the mudroom, I didn’t want to let go. Redford gave my hand a final squeeze, then we peeled off our wet jackets and boots in silence as Kenzie chattered on about the weather.
Dinner was fun, like a commercial about friends. Kenzie put on some music. The guys donned aprons and made chili and drank beer while Kenzie and I sat at the breakfast bar with our own drinks—beer for me, soda for her—and teased them. Redford seemed comfortable helping out in the kitchen. He and Sam even bantered about what secret ingredient made the best chili. I don’t know why it surprised me that Redford could look sexy in a chef’s apron, but it did. I sat at the bar and watched him move and interact with my friends as if he’d known them all of his life.
Sam and Kenzie asked him about the Corps, about Kentucky and about his family stables. I hung on every word. It was my chance to know the answers to all the questions I’d wanted to ask since he’d arrived, but had been afraid of delving into too deeply. Redford talked about his career as a Marine with pride and fondness for the men and women he’d served with. But he said he was happy to be retired from the military at an age when he could still pursue another career. When he talked about Kentucky and his family stables, his voice took on an unmistakable warmth. It was clear he loved the place, and the horse business.
And it was clear to me that the woman in his life would have to do the same.
“So you’re going back as soon as the IRS audit is over?” Kenzie asked Redford.
He glanced at me before he answered her. “That’s the plan.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about the audit,” Kenzie said. “Denise is a money genius. She saved me and Sam thousands this year on our taxes.”
Redford looked back to me and grinned. “I could sure use a money ge
nius to help me grow the stables, if you can give me a referral.”
I squirmed on my bar stool. “I’ll give you the name of someone local that my firm has worked with.”
“That’d be great,” he said easily, lifting his beer bottle, but maintaining eye contact while he drank.
“Soup’s on,” Sam announced. “Or rather…chili’s on.”
We moved to the table and Redford held out my chair. I sat slowly, ultra-aware of his closeness crowding me as he scooted me in. The food was good, but my appetite was nil as I watched the clock move toward bedtime. I felt the pressure of a decision encroaching—I suspected that Redford would not turn me away from his bed.
I slanted a glance in his direction under my lashes.
On the other hand, maybe he had tired of my uncertainty and had decided not to get in the middle of my life.
“Oh,” Kenzie said suddenly, covering her mouth. “I don’t…feel…so well. Excuse me.”
She fled in the direction of the bathroom, and Sam went after her.
I winced at Redford and he looked sympathetic. “Must be rough.”
“Yeah, she looked green.”
“No, I mean on Sam.”
I gave him a light punch in the shoulder, which he tried to dodge. Then I pushed to my feet to clear the table. He stood to help, gathering bottles and glasses.
“I’m sorry, Denise.”
I looked up, surprised. “About what?”
“About convincing you to come with me today. Now we’re stuck here and you have to miss work tomorrow…. I know you have better things to do.”
I loaded the dishwasher with our bowls and utensils. “It was my decision to come, Redford.” I turned to look at him, dead-on. “And it was my decision to stay.”
He dropped a glass, but caught it before it hit the floor. Then he looked at me, his expression cautious.
“Denise, I can stay here and bunk down on the couch or floor.” A smile curved his mouth. “With the dogs.”
Chivalrous to a fault. It was crazy, but I wanted to be close to him tonight, even if nothing happened between us. I moistened my lips. “That seems silly when there are two beds in the apartment.”
Desire flickered in his dark eyes before he glanced away. When he looked back, he seemed calm…or resolute. “Okay.”
“Sorry, folks,” Sam announced, walking back into the kitchen. “Looks like Kenzie is out for the night.”
“Is she going to be okay?” I asked.
“Oh, sure. I knew she’d regret the chili, but you can’t tell that woman anything. I’ll walk you to the clinic and get you settled in.”
He produced a stack of clothes. “These should help tide you over for tonight. There’s a washer and dryer in the apartment, plus a television and a phone if you need to make calls. Lots of hot water for a shower.” He caught himself. “Or two.” Then he burst out whistling, presumably to keep from putting his foot in his mouth.
My skin felt prickly on the short walk to the clinic, and it wasn’t the rain because it had stopped. Everything—every blade of grass, every twig—was coated with a layer of ice. The yard looked like a winter wonderland, glistening like diamonds beneath the dusk-to-dawn light. The ground crunched beneath our feet, but water dripped from the utility lines—a good sign that the temperature was rising above freezing and we’d be able to leave in the morning.
But frankly, I could barely think past tonight.
Sam unlocked the door of the clinic and led us through a lobby, down a long hall past an office and an examination room, and up a flight of stairs.
“This is where I lived while I built the cabin,” he explained, opening a door and flipping a light on inside.
And where Kenzie had stayed when she’d visited Sam to write the article, I recalled.
The suite was spacious, with a combination bedroom/living room/kitchen area containing two twin beds—that seemed to scream at me—an overstuffed couch and chair situated around a television, and an efficiency-size kitchen. A separate bathroom contained a washer/dryer closet and was stocked with toiletries.
Sam nodded to one long window facing the cabin. “It’ll be warmer if you keep the curtains closed,” he said, then he coughed into his hand and strode back to the doorway. “Call us if you need anything.”
My feet itched with the sudden urge to run past him and back to the cabin. I could bunk down on one of their couches, if the dogs were willing to share. My knees were literally trembling. I was in a full sweat.
“Thank you, Sam,” Redford said, then glanced in my direction, his eyebrow raised slightly. He was offering me an out. No doubt my nerves were palpable. I took in his face and the body that could turn me on with a twitch—and I panicked.
“Sam!” I cried.
Sam turned back. “Yeah, Denise?”
There are a few defining moments in every person’s life, when one simple decision can change the person they are, and the person they become. I knew in my heart of hearts, this was one of those moments.
“Thanks,” I said, managing a smile, “for your hospitality.”
“No problem. See you two in the morning.”
The door closed, and I felt rooted to the floor.
Redford removed his coat, hung his black hat on the post of one of the beds and jammed his big hands on his hips…waiting. Waiting for a sign, either way. Morning was hours and hours away. How would we spend those hours?
“Denise,” he said finally, his voice low and hoarse. “I’m tired of beating around the bush here.”
(It was, admittedly, a fitting sexual interpretation of the saying.) My heart thudded in my chest in anticipation of his next words.
“I want you in my bed tonight, but the choice is entirely yours.”
Desire flooded my body, rushing through my veins, awakening every nerve ending. The silence stretched between us for long seconds, while my mind raced with uncertainty. “I…” I swallowed and tried again, not entirely sure what words might tumble out of my mouth. “I…excuse me.”
I escaped to the bathroom, closed the door behind me and leaned against it with a long exhale. I was steamy from wearing my fringe suede coat, which was still damp. I shrugged out of my coat, but the weight wasn’t lifted from my shoulders. I stared at myself in the mirror, touched my skin, my hair, concrete things that defined me, things I knew to be true because I saw them in the mirror every day. But what about the things I couldn’t see? What about those deep, dark desires that lurked in my heart? Those things defined me, too, whether I liked it or not.
I didn’t like it, knowing that my body could override my reason. But I moistened my lips with my tongue and acknowledged how much I wanted Redford, how much I wanted to share his bed tonight. Worse, I needed to do this.
With shaking hands, I slipped my engagement ring from my finger and set it on the vanity, then opened the door, inhaled deeply and walked out to the bedroom.
16
REDFORD’S BACK was to me when I emerged from the bathroom, and when he turned, I was afraid I would lose my nerve. But when I saw his handsome face, his powerfully built body, his questioning eyes, my hunger for him exploded, and I rushed into his arms.
He caught me up against him, practically lifting me off the ground as he kissed me deeply, crushing me in his embrace. Our meeting was feverish, our breathing ragged, our hands rushed as we tore at each other’s clothes. His shirt fell away, then his T-shirt, my sweater, shirt and jeans. I smoothed my hands up the wide expanse of his chest, the dark crisp hairs tickling my palms. His was a working man’s body—corded with muscle, lean and tan. I closed my eyes, reveling in the smooth skin of his back, the indention of his spine, the tapering of his waist. Dark hair converged on the flat planes of his stomach into a line that disappeared into the waist of his jeans that, without his belt, barely hung on his hips, revealing the elastic waistband of his white boxers.
Experiencing the textures of his body, combined with his exploration of mine, made me breathless. He cupped my brea
sts through my flimsy bra, teasing the budded nipples. I don’t have a model body, but my breasts are my one asset. Did he remember how much I loved him touching them?
Yes, I decided when he unhooked my bra and dropped to his knees to kiss and lick each pink peak thoroughly, dragging his teeth across the sensitive skin, sending instant moisture to wet my thin panties. I cried out, my hands kneading his neck, my knees buckling. I fell forward and he picked me up, then carried me to one of the beds, settling me on the edge and rolling my panties down the length of my legs.
He spread my knees and knelt to rain kisses up my inner thighs, moving back and forth, nipping at my skin. I leaned back on my elbows because in addition to the unbelievable sparkles of pleasure of having his mouth on me, in addition to the almost unbearable anticipation of having his tongue inside me, I took great pleasure in watching Redford enjoy the act of making love to me with his mouth. When he reached the culmination of his journey, his warm tongue flicked against my wet folds and our moans melded. Seeing his dark head between my thighs was incredibly erotic.
When he plunged his tongue inside me, my body jerked in response to the icy fire racing through my muscles. After teasing me mercilessly, he found my sensual switch and worked it with his tongue until I clenched my fists in the bedspread, murmuring his name, begging for release. He moaned against my clit to escalate the vibrations, launching me to an orgasm so powerful, that even in the throes of the intense spasms, the possibility of a health implication crossed my mind—a burst vein, a permanent muscle contraction, a heart attack.
But happily, I lived to reach for his waistband and unzip his jeans, feeling another surge of desire when I freed his enormous erection. He groaned, then sucked in a sharp breath when I pushed down his soft cotton boxers to cradle his sex in my hands.
I had hinted—okay, bragged—to my friends at Redford’s massive size. I had dreamed of his nude body countless times, had conjured up his image for dozens of erotic sessions alone and—I’m not proud to admit—when in bed with other men. But when I saw and felt his rigid, straining shaft, I was awed all over again…thick and long, with an enormous tip, already shiny with pre-come. I dipped my head for a taste, but Redford stopped me with a groan.