The Second Time (13 page)

She’d had to let go of everything. The unhung drape material was swinging drunkenly from the rod, attached to it by the first few hooks. She knew she wouldn’t get the material folded so neatly again, which meant the material would be more cumbersome on her arm.

“Damn you, Slater MacBride,” Dawn swore angrily. “You know the bottoms of my feet are ticklish.”

“I think I’d forgotten
how
ticklish you are.” There was a throaty chuckle in his voice. “Sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“You’d better not,” she warned, unimpressed by his apology and its accompanying promise. “If you do that again, I’m liable to get myself killed.”

“I certainly don’t want that to happen,” Slater murmured with an obvious effort to contain his amusement.

Dawn began hauling up the dangling portion of the drape panel and looping it over her arm. In her irritable mood, she didn’t take as much care as she might have to keep the material from wrinkling.

“Will you just hold the ladder and keep your hands to yourself?” she demanded. “Don’t touch me anywhere.”

“I’ll be as still as a mouse,” he assured her.

Her first tries were tentative, not completely trusting him. Gradually, Dawn realized he intended to keep his word. The work went smoother after that.

When she had threaded the last hook through its eyes, she let her aching arms fall to her side and gazed with satisfaction at the smoothly hanging drapes with their crisp pleats spaced in neat rows. Not once had Slater intervened or even broken the silence. With the job done, she’d lost her irritation with him.

“They look great, don’t they?” Dawn was eager to hear someone’s opinion other than her own.

“Perfect,” Slater agreed.

Unbending her knee, Dawn straightened her leg so her foot could find the ladder rung and join its twin. Her hands gripped the flat top of the ladder for balance so she could begin her descent.

With the first step, an arm hooked her legs and tugged her off balance so she was turning. A second arm circled her hips to finish the turn and lift her off the ladder. Her startled outcry was ignored and Dawn had to grab for his shoulders to keep from overbalancing.

Held high in the air by strong arms that hugged her hips to his chest, Dawn was helpless to do anything about it. She looked down at Slater’s laughing features. The physical contact she’d longed for and the possessive gleam in his eyes made it impossible for her to even fake anger.

“Will you put me down?” There was a breathless catch in her voice.

“I don’t think so.” He was eye-level with her breasts that were angled away from him by her arched back, but he seemed quite fascinated by their nearness, and their movements under her cotton-thin blouse.

Dawn knew he was staring at them to disturb. It was confirmed when his glance flickered upward to measure her reaction. And there was one. Her lips were parted and her eyes were darkening with want. But she was too aware of recent bad experiences in his arms to give rein to her own desires.

“For a reformed alcoholic, you certainly play around with fire a lot.” It was a husky accusation, a veiled attempt to remind him of his resolution concerning her.

His grip loosened, letting her slide down a few inches. “But there was a condition to my abstinence,” Slater reminded her and nuzzled the blouse buttons that fastened the material across the valley between her breasts.

“What?” It was hard to think when sensation was trying to dominate her thought process.

His mouth shifted its area of interest to rub over the material covering the rounded sides of her breasts. “I said I’d stay away from you until I decided what I wanted.” His murmuring voice was partially muffled by the cloth.

“And you decided?” Her eyes were closed and her head was bent toward him as her hands curled around his neck.

Slater eased her a little farther down to nuzzle the hollow of her throat, his lips and breath warm against her skin. “There was more agony doing without you, so I’ve decided to learn to live with my addiction.”

She was lowered the last few inches until her toes touched the floor while he continued to nibble
on her neck and to rub her jaw. Happiness soared through her at the news that he was bringing a close to his inner conflict.

“I thought you’d never make up your mind,” she declared throatily.

“You don’t know what it’s been like for me since you came back,” he asserted. “You’re all I thought about. When I wasn’t around you, I wanted to be. I dragged out closing the sale of the house just so I could have a legitimate reason to talk to you privately—away from Randy. I couldn’t hold an intelligent conversation with anybody for more than five minutes without my mind wandering off with thoughts of you.” His breath mingled with hers as his mouth became poised just above her lips. “It came down to a simple understanding. You’re here—and I want you.”

Her fingers tunneled into the thickness of his hair to force his head down. The union of their lips was a hungry testament of their need for each other that could not be culminated in a merely sexual act. Their bodies strained for more intimate contact, reaching wildly for the ultimate closeness that could never be adequately achieved.

As if coming from a great distance, there was the sound of running footsteps. The significance was lost on the entwined couple until the front door burst open and the intrusion startled them into breaking off the torrid kiss.

Randy halted abruptly, holding the door open and looking a little embarrassed as if he wasn’t sure whether he should stay or go. Slater recovered first and withdrew his arms from around Dawn. Self-consciously, she smoothed the front of her blouse where it had ridden up.

“Grandma said I was to come home for supper,” Randy said.

“Yes,” Dawn nodded a little jerkily.

“I was just helping your mother off the stepladder,” Slater explained.

Randy suddenly grinned and let go of the door, his light eyes glittering knowingly. “Next you’ll be trying to convince me you two were practicing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I’ve been around, you know.”

Slater laughed silently and glanced at Dawn. “Smart kid. Yours?”

“No, yours,” she countered, smiling now, too.

“It’s time the three of us had a discussion.” He took her hand and drew her with him as he crossed to the sofa. Randy ambled over in the
same direction and flopped in the armchair, eyeing them curiously.

“A discussion about what?” Dawn inquired into the subject matter as she settled onto a seat cushion beside Slater.

“I have a small problem, which I believe Randy shares,” he said. She frowned slightly because the conversation wasn’t taking the turn she expected. “We’re father and son, but it’s awkward for either of us to openly claim the relationship. We constantly would have to explain why his name is different from mine. It’s probably more awkward for Randy because kids tend to call others names that can hurt.”

A glance at Randy noted the tightness around his mouth, an admission that what Slater was saying was true. Dawn had known it was a potential problem, but she hadn’t realized it had already surfaced.

“I’ve come up with a way to solve the problem,” Slater announced.

“You have?” Randy gave him a wide-eyed look that was full of hope.

“Your mother and I can get married and have your name legally changed to mine.” A faint satisfied smile curved his mouth as he explained his solution.

“That’s great!” Randy declared, but Dawn kept her silence, stunned—not by his backhanded proposal—but his justification to Randy for their marriage. Then Randy laughed loudly. “When you do that, my name will legally be Randy MacBride MacBride. I’ll be a MacBride twice.”

“I guess you will.” Slater smiled along with him.

Dawn finally found her voice. “I thought this was supposed to be a discussion between the three of us. It sounds like the two of you have made a decision without even asking my opinion,” she pointed out. “It is going to affect me.”

“I wanted to hear what Randy thought of my solution before I asked you about it—privately,” he stressed the latter, an engaging smile deepening the corners of his mouth.

“Randy—” she turned to her son, struggling to keep calm until she found out what Slater had to say, “—why don’t you go get cleaned up for supper.”

This was a discussion she didn’t want postponed. She needed her suspicions put to rest, and soon, or they’d eat away at her.

“Okay.” He pushed out of the chair and paused. “You know you think it’s a good idea, too.”

“Go,” she urged without denying his statement.

Her gaze followed him as he left the room and lunged up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. She waited until she heard him in the upstairs bathroom before she glanced at Slater.

“Did you mean that about getting married?” she asked, with a searching look.

“Like Randy said, it’s a good idea,” he repeated while his fingers curled tighter around her hand.

“It’s never any good for two people to get married for the sake of a child,” she insisted, wanting him to give her a better reason than that. “It
wouldn’t be any good for us, either, even if it makes the situation easier for Randy.”

“It’ll be good.” He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled at her hand to draw her closer to him.

Her free hand pushed at his shoulder to keep from being drawn into his embrace while she turned her face away from his descending mouth. “I have to know why you want to marry me—whether it’s only because of Randy.” She wouldn’t be persuaded into accepting by his kisses.

When she drew her head back to look at him, Slater sighed heavily and didn’t try to pursue his quarry. “Don’t you know?” There was a half-teasing light in his eyes. “Maybe I want to marry you for your money?”

Dawn went white. “If that’s supposed to be a joke, I don’t think it’s very funny.”

“I don’t suppose it is,” he agreed, the light fading. “It would be poetic justice, wouldn’t it? This would be my first time at the marriage altar, so I should be wedding money—according to you.”

Hurt that he would continue with this terrible joke—if it was a joke—Dawn tried to twist her hand out of his grasp and pull it free. Slater just laughed in his throat and gathered her into his arms.

“You didn’t think I was serious?” He rebuked her for questioning his motive while his gaze burned possessively over her features. “I thought I’d made it plain before Randy ever walked in the
door how I felt about you.” His lips brushed her cheek in a gentle and reassuring caress.

“It was cruel to tease me like that.” There was a hint of desperation in the way her arms went around him to cling. If it hadn’t been for her own guilty conscience about the way she had treated him long ago, she probably would have laughed off his joking suggestion. “I’m too sensitive, I guess.”

“It was a foolish way for me to let you know that I was putting all that kind of thinking behind us.” Slater took part of the blame. “But it’s something we both have to tread lightly around, it seems.”

Dawn suspected he was right. There were too many years of hurt that couldn’t be wiped out with the wave of any magic wand—even love. But understanding that would carry them a long way in overcoming it.

“I’m still curious about something.” She reluctantly drew back so she could see his face, but this time made no attempt to expand the circle of his arms.

“What’s that?” He playfully kissed the tip of her nose.

“Why did you allow Randy to think we were getting married because of him?” she asked.

“Because I wanted him to see how our marriage would benefit him, then gradually ease him into discovering that he was going to have to share a lot of your time with me.” A sudden smile flashed across his features. “And I wanted him on my side just in case you got stubborn and thought we should wait awhile before tying the knot.”

“Trying to gang up on me, were you?” Dawn accused with a provocative look through the tops of her lashes.

“That’s one of the benefits of having a son. We’ll always have you outnumbered,” he warned. “Speaking of numbers, I have something to give you.”

Releasing her, he stretched out a leg and reached inside his pants pocket. She caught a gleam of shiny metal as he reached for her left hand.

“Numbers equals digits equals fingers,” Slater explained his word association and slipped an engagement ring on her finger. “A sapphire—to match your eyes.”

“It’s beautiful.” Dawn stared at it, adequate words escaping her, but the brilliant shimmer in her blue eyes rivaled the deep color of the sparkling stone when she finally looked at him.

“I remembered that Simpson had given you a diamond and I didn’t want to follow in his footsteps,” he admitted.

Dawn wished he hadn’t mentioned him. It tarnished some of the joy in the moment, but she couldn’t block the memory of him out of her life. It was time both of them began treating his name as belonging to a mutual acquaintance.

“He always followed in yours,” Dawn corrected him.

“I’m glad you quit wearing his rings,” he said.

Before she could explain that she had sold them, Randy chose that moment to clump loudly down the steps. He halted on the last one and
called, “Is it safe to come down?’ This time he gave them forewarning before bursting into the room.

“It’s safe,” Slater chuckled.

He bounded jauntily into the room, his gaze darting from one to the other. “Well? What did she say?”

“Take a look.” Slater lifted her left hand for Randy’s inspection of the engagement ring.

“Great! Now that we’ve got that out of the way, what’s for supper?” His hunger took precedence over any prolonged celebration of their engagement.

The abrupt change of subject startled a laugh from her. “Oh, Randy,” she declared in amusement.

“Well?” The challenging inflection of his voice made it a defensive word. “You told me to get cleaned up for supper, so what are we going to eat—and when? I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving,” Dawn insisted with an indulgent look.

“He takes after me,” Slater murmured and bit at the lobe of her ear. “I’m hungry, too.” But the growling sound of his voice spoke of an appetite that had nothing to do with food.