Tally did her best to act in a normal manner the next morning despite the fact Devon’s kiss remained in the forefront of her mind. She greeted him calmly and with her usual amiable manner, drawing on the strength she’d developed when dealing with a cranky old man who found fault with everything. If she couldn’t quite meet his eyes, at least no one commented on anything out of the ordinary.
Grateful for the presence of the others at the breakfast table, she quickly asked what each person’s plans were for the day, ignoring Devon for the most part.
Jed and Brad volunteered to take turns on the pond. Kat watched Devon.
“I could help tonight, after dinner. If you’ll show me what to do, Devon.”
He looked at her and nodded, but didn’t say anything.
Normally quiet, no one commented on his silence. Kat smiled and seemed happier than she had before.
By the time breakfast was over, Tally felt she could go on. Nothing had really changed. It had just been a kiss. Men and women did it all the time, casually, without any lasting meaning. She’d provide the assistance Devon needed to move on as originally planned. Then he’d leave for the rest of his life.
And Tally would take in other guests to make a difference in their lives. To help them avoid the senseless waste spiraling out of control could cause. She took her coffee and went to sit on the porch. For a long moment she thought about Bobby. She’d loved him devotedly. When she’d been a shy, scared young girl leaving behind everything she’d known, he’d been the bright spot in her life—welcoming her to their father’s home, trying to ease her pangs of homesickness.
He could relate, he’d often told her. His mother had been their father’s first wife, whom he divorced when Bobby was a baby to marry Tally’s mother. Bobby hadn’t known their father until his mother had abandoned him abruptly one day. With no place else to go, he’d been sent to his father.
They had that in common.
But Bobby was five years older and already rebelling against fate by joining a gang, looking for a feeling of belonging and sense of accomplishment with young hoodlums rather than in more acceptable forms. Unfortunately in trying to prove himself for the gang, he’d been caught attempting to rob a store and spent two years in jail.
She’d loved him despite his faults. And still felt the anguish of his death. If he had had a place to go when he got out of jail, if he could have lived on the ranch instead of rejoining the same gang that caused the trouble in the first place, he might be alive today. Instead, a drive-by shooting ended his life at nineteen.
Helping Brad and Jed also helped her heal from the knowledge she had been powerless to save her own brother after all he’d done for her. Too young at fourteen to be able to do anything, she still felt the rage she’d experienced when she realized their father could have helped, and hadn’t.
Finishing her coffee, Tally looked up as Devon headed around the side of the house toward the pond site. She shook off her pensive mood. She had work to do—and it did not include wallowing in the past.
The day passed swiftly. Tally worked at her painting, glancing from time to time to the yard where Brad worked with Devon. The pool was taking shape. The hard-baked clay soil made it slow going, but they continued through the morning. Lunch was a hasty affair. Gus had assignments for Devon and Brad in the afternoon and Tally breathed a sigh of relief. Out of sight, out of mind. At least she hoped so.
Gradually the spell of the kiss began to fade. He’d attributed nothing to it. There were no sly looks, no insinuations, no provocative comments. She began to relax. Nothing had changed.
That evening, Tally joined the others after dinner around the pond site. Kat flirted with Devon, Ariel and Jed bickered as was their habit. Brad worked the hardest. Tally liked watching the dynamics of the group. Seeing how they learned and how they each gradually lost their earlier negative behavior patterns.
Once again she was struck by Devon’s patience. He ignored Kat’s flirting, showing her over and over how to wield a shovel using leverage to get the maximum amount of dirt in the wheelbarrow. He and the boys had established a kind of connection and they talked easily.
The pond had been a good idea, she thought, her eyes drawn again and again to Devon as he worked. The group of guests were pulling together on a project. It demonstrated teamwork, the value of setting goals and working to achieve them.
She should be pleased. Why did she feel left out?
The next morning, Tally woke earlier than usual. She might as well start breakfast for Alberta. It wasn’t often she felt in the mood, but liked to indulge when it hit her. While Alberta loved her job, she didn’t mind others pitching in from time to time.
Tally was in the midst of preparing biscuits for breakfast, setting the bowl in the sink to soak once the dough had been rolled and cut, when she caught sight of Devon coming from the barn. She hadn’t known he was up. No one else stirred around the place. Glancing at the clock, she knew why. It wasn’t even six yet What was he doing up and dressed? Or had he gone to bed?
“Tally,” Devon’s voice held surprise when he entered the kitchen. “I thought Alberta had come early.”
“How long have you been up?” she asked.
His eyes narrowed and his defenses rose. Intrigued, Tally watched. It was as if she could see the barriers erect themselves.
“For a while.”
He hesitated a moment, then shrugged and placed the basket of eggs on the counter.
“I couldn’t sleep, so thought I’d get the eggs. Want to come and see what one of your fool chickens has done now?” he asked.
“What?”
“Come and see.”
He stepped back, held the screen door open.
Walking beside Devon as she dried her hands, she wondered if he would make any mention of their kiss now that they were alone. He remained silent until they entered the cavernous barn. Once a few feet inside, Devon stood and pointed up. Balanced on a narrow cross beam beneath the rafters sat a large brown egg.
“How did she lay it up there?” Tally asked, gazing in amazement at the egg. “Why didn’t it fall?”
“I don’t know.” Devon said, shaking his head. “I don’t know how she balanced herself long enough to lay it.”
“I wish I could have seen it,” Tally said with a wide grin, trying to envision a hen on the narrow stretch of wood.
She’d have to tell Jimmie May; it would make a good scene in a book.
“Can you get it down?”
Even as tall as Devon was, the beam was beyond his reach.
Devon nodded, glancing around. Spotting a pail nearby he brought it beneath the beam, turned it upside down and stepped on it. Just as his fingers reached the egg, the pail began to crumple on one side.
“Watch out!” Tally cried, startled.
She didn’t want him to fall.
Off balance, startled by her cry, Devon’s fingers brushed the egg, knocking it off its perch just as he jumped to his feet. Slowly the egg fell, landing on his head above his left eyebrow.
Tally burst out laughing.
He glared at her.
“Are you all right?” She asked, gasping between waves of laughter. “Here, use the towel to get it off.”
She stepped up to blot some of the runny egg goo from his face, brushing ineffectively against his shirt, trying to pick large chunks of shell from his head and shaking them from her fingers onto the dirt floor.
“At least egg shampoos are supposed to be good for your hair,” she said, giggling softly, smearing some of the mess into his hair.
“Thanks. Next time, do yours.”
He rubbed some of the gooey egg white on her.
“Yuck!”
She stepped back and threw the towel at him.
He caught the towel with one hand, but with the other, wiped more of the egg from his face.
“I’ll share,” he offered, holding up his fingers.
Egg yolk dripped between his fingers as he menacingly followed her out of the barn.
“No, you don’t!” Tally turned and ran back toward the kitchen, Devon inches behind her. “No, no, don’t put that yucky stuff on me!” she shrieked as she ran.
Reaching the screen door, she tried to open it, only to have Devon reach around her and push the door against the jamb, trapping her between him and the door.
She turned to face him.
“Don’t you dare!”
“Oh, I dare.”
Deliberately Devon washed her face with the egg still dripping from his fingers, laughing down at her as she squirmed away.
“You’re right, it is funny,” he said innocently, his left hand still firm against the screen door.
“Just you wait,” she threatened as she moved out of reach. “I don’t know how yet, but I’ll get you back. Ooohhh, this stuff is gross.”
“You sound like a kid. It’s your chicken, your egg. Only fair to share.”
“If you weren’t so klutzy, it wouldn’t have fallen.”
“I like that. It was your pail that collapsed.”
“Only because you’re too heavy for it.”
“Oh, so now I’m too fat.”
He moved toward her again, threateningly.
“Devon, no. No more.”
She tried to fend him off between giggles.
Tally couldn’t evade him. He imprisoned her between his arms, his body pressing her against the screen door as he threatened her again with the gooey mess.
“I’m not fat, just strong,” he said.
“Yes, you are.”
The laughter died. Her body ignited. She didn’t realize how sensitive her skin was, even beneath the layer of clothing she wore. Aware of every inch of the man, from his warm hard arms to his strong solid chest to the long length of his legs, every one of her nerve endings clamored for his touch, for his heat. She was caught, yet strangely reluctant to be released.
She looked up into his eyes. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to give him a slow, seductive smile. Never mind that her heart raced, that the images that flashed in her mind were X-rated. She wouldn’t change a thing.
“I don’t think you’re fat,” she said softly. “I think you’re very strong. Especially to do all that digging on the pond.”
Daringly, she reached out to touch his hard biceps.
Devon’s smile faded as he gazed down into her pretty blue eyes. When had she taken off her glasses? Her eyes stared up into his, bright and shining—a deep-blue, fringed with sooty dark lashes. He wanted to lose himself in her eyes, in the innocence that beckoned. Heat swept through him as he grew hard just being near her. He remembered every second of their kiss as if every inch of her body had been permanently imprinted on his brain. Would he ever forget that night?
She remained quiet. Silence stretched out.
Slowly he lowered his head. If she didn’t want this, she could tell him. Push him away.
Instead, she didn’t move. Seemed to hold her breath. Only the rapid beat of her pulse at the base of her throat gave him hope.
His lips firmed as he reached for her. His arms drew her against him as his mouth sought, found and delivered a searing kiss.
Tally was lost. She could only feel Devon, think Devon, breathe Devon. The sticky egg drying on her face forgotten as the warmth of his embrace engulfed her. Time stood still, spun out of control. Was it day, or night, or endless eternity? Eyes closed to shut out the world, she let herself slip into the moment, relishing every spark of exquisite excitement
There was only Devon and his mouth to bind her to the earth, his lips hot and erotic against hers, his tongue delighting her, enchanting her as he deepened the kiss. His arms held her against him, pressing her softness into the strength of his own body. His legs spread to support them, letting Tally savor the feminine heat that threatened to consume her. Her fingers threaded in his thick hair, reveling in the sensations that washed through her like a tidal wave.
Light-years later he slowly drew back, staring down at her, a puzzled expression on his face.
Tally was afraid to speak. She hadn’t a clue what to say that wouldn’t shatter the moment. She licked her lips, still tasting him. Taking a deep breath, she could smell him, the warmth of him, the tangy male scent. She studied his expression and wondered where they went from here. What would he expect now? What did she expect now?
Swallowing hard she tried a shaky smile. Her heart raced, as if she’d been running. Her entire body tingled from touching him.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Tally. A man can only stand so much temptation before giving in,” he said, brushing the dry patch of egg on her cheek.
He stepped back, leaving at least a foot of space between them.
Tally felt cold, hot, mixed-up.
No one had ever told her she was beautiful. The compliment swept through her like fine champagne, bubbling up and exploding in sensations of pure delight.
“Time for breakfast?” Alberta asked from behind them.
Devon turned instantly, as if protecting the woman behind him.
Tally peeked around him at her cook. “We were gathering eggs.”
“Gathering or wearing?” Alberta asked, looking suspiciously from one to the other.
“One fell. The rest are in on the counter.”
Tally tried to smile, knowing the effort was wasted.
“Great. How do you want your eggs this morning?” Alberta asked as she waited for them to move so she could enter the kitchen.
“Not on my face,” Devon joked, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
They were smoky, smoldering, watching Tally with a hunger she could plainly see. As could anyone who looked at him.
“I’d like mine scrambled this morning, Alberta.”
Taking the towel, Tally moved to open the door and step inside, her emotions spinning. Without waiting for the others to enter, she fled upstairs. She washed her face and made sure all traces of the egg were gone before venturing back to the kitchen.
“Thanks for starting the biscuits,” Alberta said when she entered.
“No problem, I woke up early.”
Tally darted glances at Devon’s door as she leaned against the counter, talking with Alberta while the cook prepared breakfast. He didn’t appear until everyone was seated at the table. Slipping into his normal place, he ignored Tally.
“I’m going into town tomorrow, after lunch,” Tally said. “Anyone need anything?”
“Yes,” Devon said, meeting her eyes for the first time. “I need to go to the post office. Might as well get my driver’s license renewed, as well.”
By the time Tally and Devon left for town after lunch the next afternoon, Tally had her emotions firmly under control. Proximity had caused their kiss. She refused to read anything further into it.
She stopped at the Department of Motor Vehicles first and waited in the truck while Devon took care of getting his license reinstated. He’d brought a large brown envelope for posting, leaving it on the seat when he went inside, address side down. She was curious as to what he was mailing and to whom. But she didn’t look. Devon deserved privacy, as did all her guests. But she couldn’t help wondering to whom he was sending a thick envelope.
When he left the building, she drove quickly to the covered parking lot.
“The post office is a couple of blocks down that way.”
Tally watched as Devon nodded and then began to amble down the street, heading for the brick building. He didn’t seem out of place today in his faded jeans and cotton shirt, but Tally knew his stay was temporary, no matter how much he seemed to fit in.
Where would he go when he left? Would he keep in touch like some of her guests did? Probably not. Once gone, Devon would be gone for good.
She hated to admit it, but she was becoming too wrapped up in her latest guest. After the morning’s fun with the egg, she recognized the attraction two people could have for each other, the desire to share a life of happy times, as well as hard times. To just be there for each other. Like Jimmie May and Philip, or Alberta and Gus.
No one person had to dominate her as her father had. Was that one of the contributions to her parents’ divorce? She wished she could have had her mother longer, had someone to answer her questions.
She planned to be independent for life, which meant being alone. Now she fantasized about what could never be.
The phone was ringing as they pulled into the driveway and Tally jumped from the truck to run into the house to answer it. Obviously no one else was around or it wouldn’t keep ringing.
It was Jimmie May.
“When do you want to get together to finalize the book? How about dinner tomorrow? Bring Devon. While you and I do business, Philip will have someone to talk to.”
“I’ll see.” Turning to Devon as he came in, Tally smiled at him. “It’s Jimmie May. She’s invited me to dinner tomorrow. Want to go?” she asked.
He paused for a moment, then shook his head slowly.
“No. I don’t. We aren’t going to start doing things together. A kiss means nothing, Tally. Don’t get stars in your eyes because of a couple of kisses. I’m not part of a couple. I don’t ever plan to be.”
The hard edge was back in his voice. The bleakness filled his eyes.
Tally was surprised at the shaft of pain that hit at his words. Did he think she was trying to match them up? Trying to force them into a couple’s role? So starved for affection, for a man’s attention that she’d read something into a few kisses?
There was no reason for Devon to think that; she knew better than anyone how impossible that would be. Hiding her hurt and embarrassment, she turned back to the phone, trying to keep her voice light, though her throat ached with unshed tears.
“Jimmie May, I’ll come around six. Philip will have to be content with his own company, Devon won’t make it.”
“Eh bien. Bring the drawings and we’ll have a final check to see how soon we can mark this one fini.”
Tally hung up and reached for her parcels. Without looking in Devon’s direction, she started for the stairs.
Devon leaned against the counter and watched her go. He felt like a jerk who had kicked a puppy. He could have gone. He’d liked Philip and Jimmie May when he’d met them.
But he didn’t think he could have stood the ride there and back alone with Tally. Especially the ride back in the darkness, with her sweet body so close to his in the truck. The soft scent that emanated from her, like sunshine and wildflowers, drove him crazy in the daylight. It was growing harder and harder to keep his hands off her as it was. He didn’t need any other temptation.
Jimmie May was delighted with Tally’s haircut.
“Ah, chérie, it is perfect! So chic. Do you like it?”
Tally nodded, still feeling a little self-conscious.
“And Devon, how does he like it?” Jimmie May asked in a sly tone.
“All right, I guess,” Tally answered casually, shrugging her shoulders.
“I was hoping for more, vraiment.”
“I know. Honestly, Jimmie May, there’s nothing there. He’s simply one of my guests from Fresh Start. As soon as his sentence is up, he’ll be moving on.”
“When his time is fini, he doesn’t have to leave.”
“I wish I shared your belief. But I don’t.” Settling in her chair, sipping the wine Jimmie May had poured, Tally explained what she’d learned about Devon and Sheila and the reason for his prison term.
“So the other woman made a fool of him. Pauvre homme. But, chérie, what is important is how you and Devon feel about each other.”
“Well, Devon doesn’t feel anything for me. I’m just someone who’s helping him get a start on his road back.”
And how she felt for him was not open for discussion. She didn’t want to examine those emotions too deeply herself. Everyone she’d loved had abandoned her. If she allowed herself to fall in love with Devon, to fall all the way in love with him, he’d still leave her as everyone else had.
“Whatever you say, chérie.” Jimmie May fell silent.
After dinner, the business discussion of their book began in earnest. Jimmie May had finished with the final draft, Tally had most of the illustrations completed—just two illustrations to touch up. They would then put the combined product together and send it to their agent.
Agreeing to meet in two days, they also agreed to spend time then blocking out the next book.
It was late when Tally pulled into her driveway. Major rose from the front porch and pranced out to the car, tail wagging. The house was dark behind him except for the light in the hallway. Everyone had already retired for the night
“Hello, old boy, how are you?”
She fussed over her dog glad to see him. He always welcomed her. Here was one creature that didn’t care if she was half of a couple, didn’t even know about society’s expectations, wouldn’t be leaving her.
She heard the creak of wood from the porch. Walking slowly forward, she could make out Devon on the swing, slowly swaying back and forth.
“Hi,” he said, watching her walk through the starry night. “Sit a spell.”
“Okay.”
She sat gingerly on the end of the swing, letting Devon set it in motion again.
The heavens were full of bright stars clearly shining against the velvet darkness of the night, unmarred by streetlights, lights from other houses or a bright moon. The air was cool, but still. In the silence Tally could hear the soft clucking of roosting chickens, the stomp of a horse’s hoof in the paddock. It was peaceful.
“Get everything finished?” Devon asked.
“Just about. We’ve scheduled another meeting in a couple of days. After that we can mail the complete book to our agent. Dinner was great. Jimmie May is as good a cook as Alberta. They said they hoped you could come another time,” she finished lightly.
“I was a fool not to go tonight,” Devon said unexpectedly.
“Why didn’t you, then?”
Tally’s heart began beating a little faster. She wished could see him, but it was too dark to make out more than his silhouette against the star-splashed sky.
“Dumb reasons,” he said, but didn’t elaborate.
“They want to be friends. I want to be a friend,” she said gently.
“Sometimes, Tally,” he said reaching out his hand and trailing his fingers down her cheek, resting his palm against her neck. “Sometimes I want you for more than a friend.”
She didn’t say a word. It would have been impossible. She could scarcely breathe. His touch wreaked havoc with her senses. She felt tingling to her toes and yearned to have his mouth cover hers and demand a response. But she was afraid to move.
Devon gently placed his hands on her arms, drawing her slowly across the swing to bump against his hard thigh. He was giving her plenty of time to draw back if she wanted.
Tally tried desperately to see his expression in the faint starlight, but she couldn’t. What was he thinking, feeling, wanting? Did he experience the same pull of attraction and desire as she? Did he long to be with her, touch her, hold her? Listen to her voice speak softly in the darkness?
Her eyes stared up at him, wanting to know what he wanted, what he felt about her. Wanting more than just a brief passing in the night.
With a muffled groan, Devon scooped her up and nestled her in his lap, his arms cradling her. His mouth found hers in the darkness.
To keep her balance, Tally encircled his neck with her arm, raising her face expectantly, a soft sigh escaping her lips. This was exactly what she wanted. He must want the same thing, she thought.
This was not a gentle kiss. There was nothing gentle about his embrace. He held her in rock-hard arms so tightly against him she could feel a button from his shirt press against her left breast. His mouth was hot and wet and demanding as he ravaged the softness of her own, forcing apart her trembling lips and plundering the dark moistness of her mouth. His tongue traced her velvety inner lip, rasped against her teeth, and mated with her own in a sensual dance as old as time.
She felt a primitive raw hunger for him as she pushed closer, her tongue tasting him, moving against his, pushing into his mouth. The passion of the kiss drove out all other thoughts. She absorbed Devon’s body, yearned for his touch, moved against him searching for fulfillment.
His hand roamed across her back, pressing her against his hard chest, feeling the soft contours of her spine. Tally shifted to give him better access, to relish all the delightful sensations that exploded beneath his hand, the sensations that drove her to the edge of reckless abandonment.
“You feel good. You’re so soft and satiny, sweet and hot.”
Devon tipped her head back, trailed fiery kisses along her neck, down to the frantically beating pulse at the base of her throat.
Tally felt as if she floated on a cloud of happiness and sensuality. His hand was hot as he learned her curves, contours. His mouth followed the line of her collarbone, as she began to suspect its final destination. Beneath her fingertips, she learned him, the smooth skin of his shoulders, the hair-roughened skin on his chest.
“It’s been so long since I’ve had a woman,” Devon said as his mouth moved across the soft swell of her breast.
It was like a dash of cold water. Tally struggled and overbalanced them. The swing moved wildly, threatening to topple them off.
“What...?” Devon stopped
Desperately seeking balance, he stopped the swing’s wild gyration.
“You don’t want me.” She pushed against him, her hands clenched into fists. “You would take any woman who happened along. Let me go.”
Tally pushed again, falling back off onto the porch when he let her go.
“Tally...”
“Shut up!” She spun around and ran inside the house, feeling rotten. How could she have let herself be beguiled and drawn into such a fantasy? Men were out for themselves, no one else. Hadn’t living with her father proven that? Even Bobby, whom she’d adored, had been out for his own thrills, his own way in the world. Why would Devon be any different?
He’d wanted a woman because he’d been without for so long. Any woman would have done. Biting down on her lip, she was determined not to cry, at least before she reached her bedroom. Dashing up the stairs as if the devil himself were behind her, Tally reached her room and slammed the door behind her. Slammed the door on her dreams, hopes and longings. Was this to become a habit? She gritted her teeth. She would not cry.
“Well, hell!” Devon said, staring out on the black night. The very reason he’d declined the offer of going to dinner was because he didn’t want to be with Tally in the truck on the drive home. Now he’d really blown it.
He could still smell her, taste her, feel her. Want her. She was so soft, so sweet, so trusting.
And he was a bastard using that softness to ease his own needs.
He heard her door slam and winced. She was going to wake the entire house. He held his breath, waiting for the lights to come on. But the house remained in darkness. Could Kat and Ariel have slept through that?
Frowning, he heard her words echo in the silence. She thought he just wanted a woman, that any female would do. And he’d done nothing to change her mind. He could have told her no one else would do—just her. Not some nameless woman’s body.
He could have said something about how he could forget the past for a while when he was with her. How he liked looking at her, listening to her talk. Watched for the glow in her eyes when she spoke of her paintings, or her ranch. How he loved the laughter that rang out when she was happy.
Sighing, he rubbed his face. He never thought he’d want a woman again, except for a physical release. The desire that had flared with her in his arms hadn’t abated. He ached so much, he hurt. He had to wait until his body calmed down, until he could forget how desirable she was, how her skin had felt like soft velvet, how her hair seemed like silk when the curls tangled around his fingers. How even now his blood raced through him thinking about her.
How could he have been so callous? He’d given her time to object, if she’d wanted. Yet sometimes he felt she was new at this. She gave such mixed signals.
She was old enough to know the score. Yet he often thought of her as a naive young girl. Probably because of her size, and that soft, sultry, sexy southern drawl. Or the way her eyes widened sometimes in startled surprise.
He wanted to hear her voice deep into the night, pillow talk after he’d made love to her, after she was sweaty with pleasure, sated with satisfaction and drowsy with sleep. He wanted to hear his name on her lips as he brought her to climax. Hear her tell him she loved what he did to her, loved the feelings he could bring her. That he alone could bring.
Darn, he was still aroused and wasn’t getting better.