“When you’re working with large animals, sweetheart, never for an instant forget how powerful they are. Mary Lou wouldn’t mean to hurt you, but if she gets startled, kicking is instinctive. The same goes for my horses. They’re gentle giants and have never tried to kick me, but that doesn’t rule out the possibility. One time my brother Ben was leading a mare toward the stable and another horse, tethered to a hitching rail, kicked at the mare, accidentally nailing Ben on the thigh. The force of the blow cracked his femur. He was laid up for two months.”
Barney wanted to keep going, telling her every scary story he could think of, but he needed to give her credit for having good sense. He’d made his point. Now he just wanted to find a quiet place to figure out exactly what was going on in his head about Taffeta. Was he falling for her? Or was he just reacting to hormonal spikes from nearly constant arousal?
• • •
Taffeta had once fantasized about Barney Sterling only at night in the solitude of her apartment, but now she found herself dreaming about him frequently throughout the day. When dealing with customers in her store, she sometimes went spacy and missed big chunks of a conversation, which forced her to ask people to repeat themselves. It was embarrassing, and more than once, she felt her cheeks grow hot. But though she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about her husband even when he wasn’t around.
Oh, how she wished that he would make love to her. She had tried every seduction maneuver she could think of, and so far nothing had worked. Barney Sterling was a hard nut to crack, and as much as she resented the fact, she was coming to accept that he’d only ever make love to her at a time of his choosing and on his own terms.
Even so, she couldn’t help being acutely aware of him when he was close to her. She yearned to run her hands over his sturdy shoulders and arms, to feel the play of his muscles when he moved. When they got home from town at night, everything within her rebelled as she hurriedly threw on unattractive clothing so he wouldn’t be tempted to make a move on her. For the first time in her life, she’d met a man who strongly appealed to her on nearly every level, and she couldn’t do a single thing to reel him in.
• • •
On Monday, three weeks and two days after their chapel wedding, Taffeta got a call from her private investigator in Erickson. Sarah’s teacher was a friend of his, and he spoke with her weekly to get the inside scoop on how Sarah seemed to be doing. That morning, the teacher had called him with some concerning information. Sarah had bruises, one on her cheek and another on her arm. When the teacher asked Sarah what happened, the child had looked frightened and said that she fell down. The teacher said the bruises could have been due to a fall, but she thought she should mention it, all the same. Over the weekend, the child had stayed with a woman who danced at a strip club. She associated with some pretty rowdy fellows.
After the call, Taffeta trembled with a blend of anger and fear for her daughter. A stripper who hung out with rowdy men? What on earth was Phillip thinking? Taffeta wanted to drive to Erickson, find Phillip, and pummel him with her fists. Instead she struggled not to cry. What would she say if a customer came in and caught her on the verge of tears?
Just as Taffeta asked herself that, the entry bell jangled. Only it wasn’t a customer who’d caught her at a bad moment. Barney stood in the doorway.
• • •
The instant Barney saw Taffeta’s face, he knew something was wrong, and he suspected that it involved Sarah. He pushed the door closed and strode over to the counter. His wife looked up at him with tears sparkling in her eyes.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Sarah’s teacher called my investigator in Erickson. She says Sarah came to school this morning with bruises. Sarah says she fell down, but the teacher fears otherwise. My little girl stayed last night with a woman who dances at a strip club, and she hangs out with some rowdy men. The teacher suspects that Sarah was struck by one of the boyfriends.”
Barney could tell that Taffeta was barely managing to hold it together. Without hesitation, he retraced his steps to the entrance, locked the shop door, and flipped over the sign to read CLOSED. Taffeta didn’t object, which spoke volumes. She clearly knew she was about to lose it and didn’t want to have a meltdown in front of others.
He moved behind the counter and slipped an arm around her waist. “Come upstairs, honey. I’ll make you a cup of tea. We’ll hash this out. You’ll feel better after we talk.”
Barney felt her trembling as he guided her up the stairway. His heart ached for her. She loved that child so very much. It had to be unbearable for her to think that some guy had deliberately harmed the little girl. She probably wanted to rip somebody’s head off, most likely her ex-husband’s first.
Barney had every intention of doing precisely what he’d said he would. Sit her down at the tiny table. Make her some tea. Talk her down. Offer her whatever comfort he possibly could. But the minute Taffeta felt safe from prying eyes inside the flat, she burst into tears.
“My little girl is being mistreated by strangers!” she cried. “She needs me, and I’m not there. She needs help, and there’s nothing I can do. Nothing!”
Barney drew out a kitchen chair and helped her sit down. Then he crouched beside her and took her into his arms. All his life, his father had taught him never to make promises he might not be able to keep, but he found himself vowing, “You’ll soon have your daughter, Taffy. Please, don’t cry. If it’s the last thing I ever do, I’ll make sure of that.”
Apparently soothed by his words, Taffeta went limp in his arms. To Barney, it felt as if her body melted against his and was being absorbed through the pores of his skin. Oh God. She was such a sweet lady and didn’t deserve to go through this shit. He brushed his lips lightly over her hair, pressed them to the pulse point in her temple, and then trailed kisses down her cheek.
She moaned—not with pain, but arousal. Unmistakable arousal. Barney wasn’t sure how it happened, but the next thing he knew, he was devouring her mouth. He’d kissed her countless times in public, but he’d always had his guard up, silently telling himself, This isn’t real. Don’t get carried away. Only now they had no audience, and he had no grip on his self-control.
Neither did Taffeta. At the back of his mind, he knew she was running from the pain by trying to drown herself in desire, but his muddled brain couldn’t hold on to that thought. She was like an ember coaxed into flame. Her tongue slipped past his lips. The kiss became deeper, hungrier, and wilder. He’d heard of spontaneous combustion between two people, but he’d never experienced it. In that distant part of his mind, he knew he should stop this before it even started, but she wasn’t on the same wavelength.
With feverish urgency, she unbuttoned his uniform shirt. Next, she untucked his T-shirt and thrust her hands under the hem to run her palms up over his belly to his chest. Somewhere between point A and point B, he lost it and plummeted right over the edge with her.
Trailing clothes behind them, they barely made it into the bedroom. He’d wanted her in his arms for so long. To him, it seemed that he’d been holding her at arm’s length for a year, not just a few weeks. Now she was pressed full-length against him. He could feel the warmth of her silken skin, hear the jagged rhythm of her breathing, and feel her need almost as much as he could his own.
He fleetingly considered calling a halt, but desire overcame all his noble intentions. He was in, and there was no turning back.
• • •
Taffeta had dreamed of being with Barney like this countless times, and he didn’t disappoint. When they were both naked, he grasped her shoulders and held her at arm’s length to take in her body. She felt no trace of shyness. Instead she returned the favor, drinking in every line of him with her eyes.
He muttered something under his breath, short bursts of words that didn’t link together to form a coherent sentence. Locking a hard arm around her, he tumbled onto h
er bed, taking her down with him. In all her fantasies, he’d been a lover with a slow hand, but he wasn’t now. She’d once been on a roller coaster that seemed as tall in places as a skyscraper, and she felt the same way with him, as if her stomach had dropped to the floor and her heart was somewhere above her head.
His mouth and hands seemed to be everywhere at once on her body. There was no slow buildup and no asking; he just took. It was a frantic joining, and Taffeta rode the waves with him, peaking in wild passion, digging in her nails on his back to hold on, lost in sensation as their desire mounted. She was desperate to have him inside her. Her belly felt as if hot lava swirled low at its base. Her lungs ached for lack of air. Her nipples throbbed and sprang taut when his coarse chest hair abraded them.
He was heat. He was forged steel. She melted against him, glorying in the pleasure of making love to him. When his shaft thrust into her wet passage, she shrieked at the jolt of sensation and locked her legs around his waist as he drove himself deep into her, again and again. She couldn’t breathe and didn’t care. The need within her magnified. She felt as if her whole body might explode as the urgency mounted.
Then he slammed home one final time, his body locking into a sculpture of hard muscle above her. His facial muscles drew taut. His mouth twisted into a grimace. And then she felt the rush of liquid fire as he ejaculated. She felt each throb of release deep within her, and the pressure inside her suddenly exploded, sending her into the throes of orgasm with him. Dimly, even as she climaxed, she marveled at the feeling. She’d come close a couple of times with Phillip, but he’d always stopped too soon, leaving her hanging on the edge.
Barney collapsed onto her, catching most of his weight with one elbow. He was still inside her, and she didn’t want him to leave until his hardness vanished and he slipped out of her.
She clung to him, so breathless she could barely speak. “Don’t—go. Stay—with—me.”
As their pulse rates slowed, they shifted, holding on to each other, skin against skin, limbs intertwined, too spent to actually move.
“Oh God, Taffy, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice ragged. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
Taffeta felt like a little girl whose fondest wish had just been granted by her fairy godmother. She giggled. “I’m very glad it did. I’ve never experienced anything so wonderful.”
“I haven’t, either,” he said on an outward rush of breath. “If and when it ever happened between us, I meant to go slow. Instead I went after you like a crazy man. If there’s a next time, I’ll do better.”
“If you do better, you’ll kill me,” she said, and she meant it. What he’d just given her was beyond all of her wildest fantasies about him.
He drew her closer and feathered kisses across her forehead. Oh, how she loved feeling his lips against her skin. Then he suddenly tensed.
“Shit!” He let go of her and jackknifed to a sitting position, naked as the day he’d been born and so gorgeous Taffeta wanted to study him for hours. Only he leaped off the bed in a flurry of motion. “I’m on duty! And, oh, shit, fuck! I didn’t use a condom.”
Taffeta had never heard him use the F word, which conveyed just how upset he was. She grabbed the coverlet. They hadn’t bothered with drawing back the bedding. She rolled off the mattress and tugged the chenille around her. “Condom?”
He fixed a sharp gaze on her, his chest still heaving. “Yeah, you know, those things every responsible man uses to keep from getting a woman pregnant or giving her a venereal disease.” He snatched up his uniform pants and strode from the bedroom, muttering something about his shirt. “Dammit. Not that I’ve got a venereal disease,” he said over his shoulder. “I’ve always practiced safe sex, until now. But I sure as hell have plenty of little swimmers standing ready to do their duty.” He homed in on his uniform shirt. Then he found his T-shirt. “I can’t believe I did something so irresponsible.”
Taffeta clutched the bedspread closer. “Barney, it’s going to be okay. I don’t think it’s my fertile time of month.”
“Well, I pray to God not!”
The vehemence of that pronouncement thrust like a sword into her heart. Would it really be so unthinkable to him if he’d gotten her pregnant? As if he realized what he had just said and how it might have sounded, he froze and looked at her. “I didn’t mean that. Well, I meant it, but not the way I said it. We’re just learning about each other, you know? When I father a child, I want to be in an established, forever relationship. Don’t you?”
Taffeta, taken off guard, couldn’t think what to say and blurted, “I was a baby nobody wanted. No child of mine will ever be a piece of trash that I throw away.”
Barney knotted his hand over the garments he held. “You’re right. I didn’t mean—well, I’m just upset and shooting off my mouth without thinking, Taffy. And just for the record, I feel the same way. If what just happened results in a baby, I’ll step up to the plate, and we’ll somehow make it work.”
Taffeta already knew that. Before her stood one of the most wonderful men she’d ever known, a relentlessly responsible and serious guy in so many ways. It was almost a compliment that he’d lost control with her and engaged in unprotected sex. She had a feeling that he’d never been careless with any other woman. If that didn’t send her a strong signal about how he felt about her, what would?
He sighed. “I’m messing this up nine ways to hell, aren’t I? Saying all the wrong things. Hurting your feelings. This should be a special moment. We should have time to talk. Can you just pretend I haven’t said anything until we talk tonight?”
“I’m good,” she said. “Don’t worry about me. You’re on duty, and you need to get back to work.”
“Of course I’m going to worry, Taffy. This happened because I brought you up here to comfort you about Sarah and calm you down. Instead we barely talked about her and fell into bed, and now I’m running out on you.”
Oddly his murmured promise that he’d help her get Sarah back had been a huge comfort to Taffeta. Until Sarah was safe, Taffeta would worry and be upset, but she trusted Barney and believed in him. With only a few words, he had eased some of the pain in her heart.
He resumed searching for the rest of his clothes, and Taffeta helped him, feeling oddly shy about letting the bedspread slip. What was that about? His hands or mouth had just been on nearly every part of her body. What did she have left to hide?
Clinging to the bedspread, she raced around, finding a sock here and a boot there. She froze when she came across his gun and Taser belt. Wary of the weapons, she scooted the belt into plain sight and started crawling around on the floor, looking for his other sock.
“I am so screwed,” he said. “I can’t find one sock or my boxers!”
A fleeting image of Barney in boxer shorts shot through her brain. He was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen.
Taffeta finally found his boxers. Somehow they’d worked their way under one of the pillows. Along with his honor, she guessed. “I found them!”
Barney raced in from the tiny living room, still naked and clutching his outer clothes, which he wouldn’t put on without the basics. Taffeta held out the garments and took advantage of the opportunity to admire his body as he hopped around on one foot and then the other to dress.
“I’m still missing one sock,” he observed as he put on his boots. “But that’s fine. No one will notice.”
As he strapped on his gun belt, she felt just a tiny bit sorry for herself. He was leaving her. Raking a hand through his hair, he retrieved his Stetson from the kitchen table, planted it on his head, and strode toward the door. Hand on the knob, he hesitated. Then he swung back around, covered the distance between them, and caught her up in his arms.
Holding her close, he said, “That was the best. It really was, Taffy. But I have to go. No more tears. I mean it. Sarah will be okay until we can get custody. Kids live th
rough worse. We’re going to bring her home soon. I promise.”
We? Taffeta hugged her waist as he drew away. If only that were a Freudian slip of the tongue. She loved Barney Sterling. There was no denying it. Maybe he’d break her heart. But she couldn’t control her feelings for him and didn’t want to try, especially not now. Making love with him had been the most incredible experience of her life. If she lived to be ninety, alone and unsatisfied, she would at least have the memory of experiencing wild, crazy, mindless sex with a wonderful man just once in her lifetime.
’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. She believed in that. Mrs. Brassfield had taught her that. So while she had the chance, she would love this man with every breath she took, even if it wasn’t meant to last.
• • •
After leaving Taffeta’s apartment, Barney nearly ran a stop sign because his thoughts were on her instead of his job. Hot damn. Over the years, Barney had enjoyed sex with some women more than he did with others, but he had never experienced anything close to what he just shared with Taffy. He remembered wondering while they danced at their wedding reception if they would move with the same perfect harmony while making love. Now he had his answer. It was as if their bodies were made for each other. And as he peeled the layers away to learn who she really was, he couldn’t help feeling that their hearts came from the same mold as well. How could a guy keep his head on straight when everything between two people seemed so right?
Barney could barely wait for his shift to be over.
• • •
When Taffeta finally got herself tidied up, she hurried downstairs to reopen her shop for business. Her first customer entered minutes later, a petite young woman with cropped dark hair, gorgeous blue eyes, and a darling heart-shaped face. Taffeta instantly recognized her. Sissy Sue Bentley from the Cauldron. She looked like a pixie even though she wore a long-sleeve gray T-shirt and jeans. Taffeta adored old movies—one of her favorites was Breakfast at Tiffany’s—and this young lady could have been Audrey Hepburn’s double.