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Authors: Amie Louellen

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BOOK: Blame it on Texas
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She kissed those new ridges, the scar on his shoulder, the little birthmark on his hip.

He threaded his fingers through her hair, fisting his hand in the long tresses and urging mouth back to his and once again using his strength to reverse their positions.

But instead of his warmth, she felt the cool brush of air as he readied himself. He slipped into a condom and was back in an instant, capturing her lips in a scorching kiss.
 

He wedged his knee between her thighs, urging them apart so he could settle between them. His weight was her only anchor to the earth, his warmth holding her to him as he pressed for entrance.

Then he was there, filling her, loving her. She met him stroke for stroke, finding the rhythm they had discovered so many years ago. Their lovemaking was the same and yet different, familiar yet new.

The man knew what the boy hadn’t forgotten. Where to kiss for maximum effect, how sensitive her neck was to his touch, how to drive her crazy with his hands and mouth.

She wanted to scream his name to the heavens as the pressure built inside, but somehow she kept her silence, afraid that if she made a noise the dream would be shattered.

The only sound was their breathing, the urgent pant of desire.

She wrapped her legs around him as he quickened the pace, carried her to heights she barely remembered existed. But they were real, and the only way to get there was in his arms.

He slid one hand under her and lifted her to him as he thrust one last time. She shattered into a million pieces as he strained and stilled, reaching his own pinnacle.

This was not what she had come to Texas for. Nowhere in her plans had she thought about sleeping with her husband. Rekindling the passion that sizzled between them.

Her heart beat wildly in her chest, her limbs trembling. She was still wrapped around him but her hold had gone slack. He was still inside her, hard but still as he struggled to regain control. His heavy breath stirred the strands of her hair. His face buried in the curve of her neck.

She couldn’t see his face, didn’t know how he felt. Couldn’t fathom what they were to do now.

“Yo, bro?” The moment was lost as a greeting called out from the entryway.

Ritt groaned, but this one was different from the last. He shifted his weight, flopping onto the bed beside her.

Shelby rolled away, snatching up the robe she’d thrown across the chair that very morning.

“Ritt? Mom and Dad said I should come check up on you—holy cow. I know you’re here, there’s a bra on the kitchen floor. I’ll just get my stuff from the uh, car…” The creak of the wheelchair floated in through the open bedroom door. They hadn’t expected any company.

“Shel, I—”

Shelby shook her head. “Go see about Kyle,” she said, then started for the bathroom, fighting back tears with every step.

She shut the door behind her, the robe hanging inside swaying with the motion. Shelby pressed herself against the wood, leaned her head back and closed her eyes against the tears.

How stupid could one girl be? She took a deep shuddering breath and pushed herself toward the sink.

Her arms were stiff and robotic as she went through the motions: turn on the water, pull back her hair. But the face in the mirror was a shocker. Her eyes looked smoky and heavy-lidded, her lips puffy and pink. Her neck and chest splotchy with the force of his kiss and the rasp of his beard stubble against her skin.

She shuddered with the memory. Funny how mere thoughts of him turned her on. No, not funny. Pathetic. It was pathetic that she was putty in his capable hands. Willing to fall into bed with him like nothing bad had ever happened between them. Like the last seven years hadn’t mattered at all.

She splashed water on her face, wet a washrag and pressed against the red marks marring her skin. There was one in particular that would most likely bruise. Just what she needed. She was damned-near twenty-six years old…she was a successful business owner, and tomorrow morning she would wake up with a hickey.
 
Simply fabulous.

 

 

“You’re supposed to put toothpaste on it,” Delilah said. “And then press it with a spoon.”

“I tried that. It didn’t work.”

“Here. Let me.” Delilah stepped toward her, pulling her collar down. “Damn, girl. What did y’all do?”

Shelby winced, and gingerly touched the love mark Ritt had left on her collarbone.

“Just be glad you don’t have a father. My dad would kill me if I came home with that.”

Shelby ignored the father comment. Delilah was always saying something like that, and Shelby turned a deaf ear where it was concerned. “Do you think my shirt’s enough to over it?”

Delilah laughed. “If it’s a turtleneck it will.”

Shelby smacked her on the arm. “Be serious. It’s a hundred and five in the shade. I can’t wear a turtleneck.”

“Uh-huh. Maybe you should have thought about that beforehand.” Delilah shot her a smirk and handed her the tube of Crest. “I’ll go get a spoon.”

 

 

Shelby shook away the memory, pressing the cool cloth to the circles below her eyes as she tried to ignore the voices from the other side of the door.

Kyle must have gotten his things from his car. Now the brothers were catching up. Talking baseball scores and fishing holes. Shelby wanted to crawl into a hole of her own and stay there until after the wedding tomorrow.

At the rate she was going, she’d never get Ritt to sign the papers. After the last half hour in his arms, she wasn’t sure if she even wanted them signed. But one thing was certain, she had to get out of Texas before he broke her heart in two.

She sucked in a deep breath and took her hair down, running her fingers through the strands. Then she let herself out of the bathroom and crept back into the bedroom. It was too early to call it a night, and it wasn’t like Kyle wouldn’t know she was here eventually. The only thing to do was face this problem head on.

Her bra was lying on the bed, obviously put there by Ritt. She willed back the heat that filled her face and concentrated on getting dressed. She pulled her yoga pants back on and slipped her T-shirt over her head. These were the only clothes she had that wouldn’t look ridiculous for her to have on at nine o’clock at night.

But she knew the mark on the side of her neck was shining bright for all to see. The only solution would be to pull on one of Ritt’s button-downs. Like that would look less intimate.

Shelby shook her head and started for the living room.

Play it cool, she told herself.

She stepped into the entryway and gave a rainbow wave. “Hi, Kyle.” So much for playing it cool.

“Shelby.” Kyle’s boyish face split into a grin as big as the West Texas sky. “Come over here and see me.”

She tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and resisted the urge to chew on her lip as she crossed the living room.

“How have you been?” She leaned down and gave him a peck on the cheek.

He nodded. “Good,” he said, but his voice sounded a bit distracted. Then his eyes widened as he put two and two together and came up with what had been going on before he had interrupted.

Of course it didn’t help that Ritt’s hair was standing on end, his Levis unbuttoned at the waist and his T-shirt was on wrong side out.

“Ritt didn’t tell me that you were here.”

“Oh.” She looked over to her husband, not sure what she expected to see. He raised his beer bottle in salute and shot her a grimacing smile.

“I came back for—”

Behind Kyle, his brother started shaking his head.

“I came back for—”

“The wedding. She came back for the wedding,” Ritt interjected.

“Oh.” Kyle nodded.

“I came back for the wedding,” Shelby said with a quick nod.

“Yeah…” Kyle said slowly.

“Ritt, can I talk to you please?”

“Right.” Ritt pushed himself to his feet and hurried to her side. It was obvious that he was no more comfortable facing off with his brother than she was. “Be right back, Kyle.”

They walked into the kitchen, the elephant in the living room following close behind.

She turned to face her husband and took another step back when she realized how close he was to her. Close enough that if she leaned in a little she could trace the line of his throat with her finger. Or her tongue. She closed her eyes and took another step back.

“Ritt,” she said, opening her eyes and staring him full in the face. Now was not the time to be timid where her husband was concerned.

“Why didn’t you tell him why I’m really here?”

“Does it matter?”

It did, but she couldn’t tell him why. Every time he told someone his version of the truth it made her wonder if perhaps he didn’t want the divorce. Was that why he wouldn’t sign the papers?

She let out a pent-up breath then waved a hand as if to clear the words between them. “Do whatever you want.” She started to push past him, but he hooked her arm and pulled her against him.

How perfectly she fit to him from every angle. Her back was pressed against his front, his warm breath stirring her hair and sending goose pimples cascading down her arms.

“Do whatever I want? Is that an invitation?”

She shook her head while she searched for her voice. “You and I both know what happened tonight was a mistake.”

“Uh-huh…” He lifted her hair off the nape of her neck and pressed a whisper of a kiss against the sensitive skin there.

She couldn’t stop her shudder, or her sigh. Instead she closed her eyes and prayed for strength. “A mistake,” she said stepping away from him. “One that cannot be repeated.”

 

Shelby pushed herself out of his arms and out of the kitchen. This time Ritt let her go. He’d proved his point. One kiss and he could make her squirm. Make her wet and ready. But it had the same effect on him.

He grabbed a fresh beer, adjusted the crotch of his Levis and eased his way back into the living room.

Only his brother remained.

“Where’s Shelby?”

Kyle shrugged. “She said she was going into the other room to watch television.”

Ritt flopped back onto the sofa and eyed his baby brother. “You didn’t have to come home, you know.”

“I had laundry to do anyway,” Kyle said with a shrug. “At least now I know why Mom called. How long has she been here?”

“Six days.”

“Six days?”

Ritt nodded.

“Six days? She’s gone for six years and in less than a week you’ve already talked her back into your bed.”

“She’s been gone seven years.” Seven years, 2 months, and twelve hours. But who was counting?

“You know what I mean.”

Ritt took a swing of his beer and shook his head. “It’s not like that.”

Kyle raised a brow, his smirk saying it all. “Then what’s it like?”

“She wants a divorce.”

“Not if she’s sleeping with you.”

“It’s not like that,” Ritt said again, sucking down his beer and wishing for something stronger. Like that would help. One touch from Shelby was so intoxicating to his senses even moonshine paled in comparison. “For as long as I’ve known her, Shelby has wanted to be stable and respectable. Now she’s got a shot at everything she’s always wanted. I can’t blow that for her.” He hadn’t realized until he said the words how true they were.

Guilt swamped him. He had been manipulating her from the start, not signing, teasing her, kissing her, when all she wanted was a fresh start.

“And you aren’t respectable?”

“I work at the bait shop. I live with my parents. I’m still driving the first truck I ever bought.”

Kyle snorted in disgust. “Why do you do this?” He shook his head. “Why do you sell yourself short? Drive yourself down?”

Ritt stood on suddenly wobbly knees. He held his arms up as if to embrace the room. “This is it,” he said, gesturing to the room at large. “This is my life. This is who I am. I can’t change for anybody. I don’t want to change.”

“Not even for Shelby?”

“You don’t get, it do you? I’m so seven years ago.”

“Oh, I get it all right. You’re afraid to show her who you really are, because if you do and she rejects you then, what do you have? At least this way you have a chance.” All the anger drained out of his voice. He shook his head. “I never thought I’d say this, but I feel sorry for you, Ritt.”

“Don’t bother.” He scoffed at the idea, but the words cut him to the core. Was he so easy to read, so transparent that his kid brother could see right through every excuse he had? “I’ll go make your bed.”

If he took that chance and it fell through, then he would be left with nothing. Nothing at all.

Chapter Seven

After avoiding Ritt for the rest of the evening, how ironic was it that he filled her thoughts so completely?

Kyle had gone to his room, and Ritt had slammed out the screen door that led to the back. That left Shelby alone in the bedroom, flipping back and forth, trying to get comfortable and trying to forget the sizzle of Ritt’s lips on her skin.

BOOK: Blame it on Texas
3.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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