Gambling on a Secret (26 page)

“I’m surprised you got so much of the garden done.”

She looked over the beds as they meandered through, heading for the lake in the far front of the yard. “I had to stay busy after school was over. I guess it’s over for a while.”

“Charli?”

She looked up at him. “I just realized school will have to wait.” Even in the waning light of late evening, she saw his countenance melt a little. She tried to force a smile, but failed. Surprisingly, though, the reassurance rang true. “I didn’t say I was quitting. I’ll go back when I can. After the baby is older.”

Until then she’d be a mother, a rancher and whatever he wanted her to be to him. Only the threat to her promise to help Annie twisted her heart. She was still determined to do what she could for the girl. Something about Annie wouldn’t let her go.

“If you want to go back in the fall, I’ll be here. And after the baby is born, I’ll be here. I know how much being a social worker means to you.”

She squeezed his hand and this time the smile was easy. “Thank you.”

Once they got to the edge of the water, she warily peered around for snakes. He chuckled and the tension dwindled, at least a little. She glared at him.

Dylan pulled her down beside him on the stone bench. “Relax. I’ll protect you if one of the snakes decides to take a bite out of you.”

“If that was supposed to reassure me, it was a lousy attempt.”

His chortle filled the evening, and he wrapped his left arm around her shoulders. His right hand enveloped hers. He had big hands, work roughened and strong, perfect in their comforting warmth. She couldn’t help relaxing into the latent strength of his chest and shoulder.

They sat there for a few moments just watching the occasional ripple in the dark water as the evening turned to night. The purple sky swallowed the last rays of sun. While stars twinkled to life above the trees, fireflies danced closer to earth. Frogs and insects filled the night with a symphony of delightful music. A woodpecker added percussion, a trio of whippoorwills and an owl from the woods gave voice to the night song.

“It’s beautiful out here.” He didn’t bother keeping the awe from his rough voice.

“Yes, it is. I fell in love with this place during the day. If I’d seen it at night...” She let the statement trail away.

He took his arm from her shoulders and leaned his elbows on his thighs. He stared down at their hands clasped together.

She knew enough about Dylan Quinn to fall head over heels in love with him. But what made him tick? “Why do you believe you won’t measure up to your father?”

He glanced at her and drew in a deep breath. Concentrating on their hands again, he pressed hers between his palms as if he was sizing her much smaller one to his bigger ones.

At last, he heaved another long sigh. “Robert Quinn is a retired brigadier general who now works in Homeland Security. He’s had the kind of career most officers wish for. Dad has done so much. He was in Nam at the very end, and in Germany during the fall of the Berlin Wall, he was a battalion commander in the Gulf War and was sent to Bosnia. There he helped track down war criminals as a commanding member of the security force.”

He met her gaze. She rested her free hand on his forearm. The muscle bunched under her touch. “On Nine-Eleven, Dad was in the Pentagon, and he was one of the first to deploy to Afghanistan, where he was a senior officer under General McNeill during the early days. That’s where he pinned on the star. From there he took a divisional command in Iraq.”

Dylan got a faraway look in his eyes. His pride in his father was evident, but there was something resentful under it. “I was in Iraq at the same time and went to the change-in-command ceremony. Dad introduced me to a few of the brass. When they asked me what class I’d graduated from, you would’ve thought Dad’s officers had asked how long I was in the state pen by the look on my father’s face. He was ashamed when I told them I didn’t go to West Point.”

She was only about half following the military lingo. “Why?”

He snorted. “I’m my father’s number one disappointment. Not only didn’t I graduate from his school, I’m something of a hothead. So, I didn’t rise up the ranks as fast as Dad would’ve liked either.”

“But why should he be disappointed? You were in the Army and served the country well.”

“My family can trace its military history like a rancher can trace cattle breeds back to the first sire and heifer.”

He paused and she thought he was finished, but then he sighed again. “Dad never wanted Mom to come back here. He would’ve preferred she stayed in Washington with his family. Dad considered Granddad Ferguson a bad influence on me in particular. I loved horses as a little kid, and on our visits to Oak Springs, I practically glued myself to Granddad’s side, learning everything I could about the ranch. Granddad had taken an instant dislike to Dad. Thought he was a pompous Yankee ass.” Dylan chuckled and looked at her.

“You see, my dad had been raised in the military. His father lived and breathed it. Granddad Quinn would’ve pinned on a star if a heart attack hadn’t killed him during the waning days of the Cold War. I have roots clear back into the Revolution and beyond. One of my ancestors supposedly fought in the Crusades beside King Richard the Third.”

He pressed his lips together. “All I ever wanted to do was be a rancher.”

“There’s nothing wrong with ranching. Besides, you were in the Army and an officer. Your father should be proud of you. I know I am.”

His face softened, and he kissed her fingers. “I only joined the Army because my grandfather willed Oak Springs to his stepson instead of to his daughter.”

He let go of her hand and stood, shoved his hands into his pockets, and stared out over the dark lake, leaving her bereft of his touch.

She clasped her hands between her thighs. “You were hoping to run Oak Springs, weren’t you?”

He nodded, but didn’t look at her. “When Mom moved back here, I hated this place at first. This place just seemed so...I don’t know...backward. I’d lived all over the world, had just spent three years in Germany and before that we lived in D.C.”

She looked down at her clasped hands. “I understand perfectly. I felt the same way when I was fifteen and my grandfather took me back to the Long Arrow after Momma died.”

Dylan turned. “You know we probably have more in common than either one of us would like to admit.”

“I doubt that. Other than both being fifteen when we were plucked from our lives to be dumped on a ranch.” They stared at each other for a moment, and she thought about his guilt over the deaths of his men. She remembered her own role in the murder of Tyrone Hodges and his guards. Maybe he was onto something with his assessment.

She cleared her throat. “So, when did you decide ranching was what you wanted to do with your life?”

“I was only here for a few weeks before I fell in love with the place all over again. Granddad was happy to teach me about the ranch. It was the unspoken assumption Mom would inherit Oak Springs. Leon was away at Harvard, and I assumed I’d run the place when Granddad retired. Mom didn’t want the ranch, and Dad was more interested in war strategy than breeding cycles.

“I was a cocky teenager who thought I had it all. I went to college and majored in ag-business, all ready to take over once I graduated. Then Granddad had a stroke my junior year of school and died.”

“And he left Oak Springs to your uncle and not to your mother.”

He looked at her. She didn’t need to see his eyes to know how much pain would be in them. His voice quivered with it. “I didn’t know what to do, so I joined ROTC and when I graduated was commissioned into the Corp of Engineers. Dad was disappointed when I didn’t want to be a career military man, but he hated his only son chose to become an officer by not going to West Point. I broke a tradition going back as far as West Point’s first class.”

His father wasn’t the only one he was trying to live up to. From the sounds of it, he was trying to live up to a standard set beyond too high by his whole family tree. She stood and put her arms around his waist.

He looked down into her face, and she held him close, loving him, wanting him. “Dylan, you are your own man. You have to do what feels right for you, not your father–or anyone else.”

“Psychoanalysis mumbo-jumbo?”

She shook her head. “No, my grandfather. When I came home after running away, I had to find myself. I felt like a complete failure, always comparing myself to my mother. Despite her mistakes, she was a great woman who succeeded. She had nothing when she got to Tulsa, except a month-old baby and a few thousand bucks, but she got a job in a bank because they had a daycare, and she saved and learned. By the time she died, she was the manager.”

He smiled. “You take after your mother, I see.”

She shook her head. “No, I may have learned from her, but it happened only after I stopped comparing myself to her–or to anyone else, for that matter. I can’t be my mother any more than you can be your father.”

Dylan stared at her for a long time with a light in his pewter eyes she’d never seen before, and then he captured her lips with consuming passion, sweeping her away.

He ended the kiss and brushed his lips over her temple. “Let’s go in and try out that fancy bed.”

Chapter 14

Charli led Dylan into her bedroom, paused in the middle of the room, and turned to face him. A vibrating energy slivered through her, quickening her heart with a forbidden desire melting her insides.

She’d never stripped for a man who she truly desired–except Ricardo. However, she’d never loved him as much as she did Dylan, and she wanted to do something sexy and seductive.

She puckered her lips into a wanton pout she’d perfected so many years ago. It felt a bit rusty, but she must have pulled the seduction off if the sudden fire in his eyes was any indication.

When he took a step toward her, she backed away, shaking her head. “Uh-uh. I want to do something for you.”

“You’re already doin’ plenty,” he said in a perfect Texas drawl. “You’re driving me crazy. What do you have planned?”

“You’ll see, cowboy.”

He grinned. “I like that.”

“Good,” she purred and gave him a sassy smile, backing away by placing one foot directly behind the other so that her hips swayed in a slow roll. “Because it’s exactly what you are.”

She pulled the rubber band from her hair. With a careless flick of her fingers, she tossed it in the general direction of the dresser. She fluffed the curls with both hands and gave the mess a toss.

She kicked off her sandals–one at a time–then grabbed the bottom of her tank top and slowly lifted it over her head. She flung the shirt at him, hitting him in the chest. He held it to his nose, taking a deep breath.

“You always smell like peaches.” His gruff voice snagged over her nerves, causing her to shudder.

After a few belly dancing moves, she ran her hands over the satin bra and down her stomach, drawing his eyes down. She gave her hips a provocative shake and turned around. He wanted to protest; she heard it in his groan. But when she shimmied out of the denim shorts, he hissed in a breath of sweet torture. Her bra fell to the floor, and she danced to imaginary music. She looked over her shoulder as she slipped her thumbs under the elastic of her panties and pushed them to her ankles, letting her hair fall to the floor and shaking her ass.

A primitive growl escaped him. He moved behind her, his hands pulling her up and turning her into his arms. His mouth consumed hers as a starving man might a feast. By the time they came up for air, she feared she’d melt into a puddle.

“Your turn.”

She grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt, pushed it up over his chest, and ran her hands through the dark curls.

He yanked the shirt over his head, then pulled her to him and covered her mouth with his again. She sucked on his tongue, nipped at his lips, and worked at his belt buckle and fly. When she broke the kiss, he tugged off his boots and socks and kicked out of the jeans. His harried movements made her grin.

“Okay, I suppose I could have done that with more finesse.” When he saw her expression and where she was staring, he lost his grin. “I know the scars... We can turn out the light, if you’d…”

She met his eyes and a love so deep and overwhelming filled her heart to overflowing. Tears pricked her eyes and she fought the urge to let them fall. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen him naked before. So, what was the problem now?

“Dylan, you’re beautiful.” She couldn’t tear her gaze away.

After clearing his throat, he took her into his arms again. He chuckled against her lips. “I must say, I’ve never been called that before. You’re the one who’s beautiful.”

She relished the fissions of her soft and smooth body against his harder and rougher one.

When she opened her mouth under his, he deepened the kiss in a tangling duel with her tongue. She tightened her arms around his neck, rolled up on tiptoe, pressing herself into his lean strength and potent hardness.

After drawing back the blankets, he lifted her, bridal style, and laid her onto the crisp sheets.

Stretched out beside her, he possessed her with hot caresses, covered her breasts and gently kneaded them. When he brushed his thumbs over her taut nipples, she tightened her hands on his biceps. They were as hard as stone under her touch.