HIS SHOULDERS AND NECK TIGHT from tension, Noah brought the pie to the table, along with dessert plates and a carafe of fresh coffee. He didn’t know what the hell Alana was up to. No way she hadn’t figured out his mother had had too much to drink. Why stay and prolong the agony? He’d made it pretty damn plain that it was time to leave. Jesus, they’d made it through dinner without an incident. He didn’t want to press his luck. The pie? Who knew how that had turned out. Though Celia had kept herself together up until supper.
He’d made peace with his mother’s drinking problem years ago, and he’d even forgiven… No, not forgiven. He now understood why his father had emotionally distanced himself from her. It had nothing to do with not caring, or giving up. That was the only way a person could live with a drunk on a daily basis. His dad still loved her, just as Noah did. Detaching from the behavior meant you could stay and not go crazy or end up hating. The emotional separation allowed you to be real clear that there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it except be there if and when the time came that she decided she’d had enough and wanted help. He’d read enough books, talked to enough recovering alcoholics, to know he was doing the right thing.
The “if” part was still hard, though. Sometimes Noah wanted to shake her, force her to face the fact that she was missing out on her grandchildren’s lives. At one time she’d lived for the day she’d have grandbabies, and now they’d been taken from her because watching and waiting for the other shoe to drop was too painful for everyone. Had he been in his kid sister’s place, he’d have done the same thing. The children had to be the first priority.
Although he knew Alana was watching him, Noah refused to look at her. He wasn’t embarrassed by his mother; her problem was her shame to carry, not his. But he was a little pissed off at Alana for ignoring his cue to leave, and now wasn’t the time to let it show.
Surveying the pie, knife, plates and clean forks, he asked, “Did I forget anything?” They were gonna eat their pie, fast, and then they would leave.
“The silver pie server would be nice. It’ll keep the pieces intact,” his mother said, sounding surprisingly sober.
He glanced at her, and she gave him a tentative smile, full of apology and pleading and gratitude all mashed up together. “Sure,” he said, noticing that she’d pushed her wine aside and reached for the coffee carafe. “I’ll get it.”
Emotion welled in his chest. For one tiny second she looked like the old Celia, the mom who’d cheered louder than anyone at his varsity football games. Maybe he was too old to want that mother back, but he did.
He found the serving gadget sitting on the counter, and returned to the dining room. This time he did look at Alana while she was busy swapping stories with his mom. She seemed totally relaxed, listening intently, as if his mother were the most important person in Blackfoot Falls. When had someone last treated Celia Calder like that?
They both laughed suddenly. He didn’t hear what was said, but the sound snapped him out of his preoccupation. “Go ahead and cut the pie. I’ll go find Dad.”
“You know he’s probably having his smoke.” She shrugged at Alana and picked up the knife, a slight tremor in her hand.
“Would you like me to cut that?” Alana offered. “I can’t have Noah accuse me of slacking off.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll try not to lick my fingers,” Alana said, grinning, and his mother smiled back, any momentary awkwardness erased.
He found his father on the porch. Prepared to bodily drag him inside if need be, Noah was still relieved when it turned out that wasn’t necessary. They all sat at the table again, each with a piece of pie.
“You said earlier your mother is a psychiatrist?”
At his father’s voice, Noah jerked a look at him. He hadn’t uttered more than a dozen words since they’d started supper.
Alana had just taken a bite of pie and nodded, touching a napkin to the corner of her mouth.
“You haven’t mentioned your father.”
She put her fork down. “I don’t know him,” she said with slow deliberation. “He’s never been in my life.”
“Oh.”
Noah had to control a smile at the oh-shit look on his father’s face. Poor guy finally opened his mouth and he ended up sticking his foot in it. Not really, but Noah knew that’s what was going through his head.
“Were your parents divorced?” Noah asked, to get his father off the hook, and because Alana had evaded the subject yesterday.
“Never married.” She picked up her fork again and focused on slicing off a bite of pie. “Eleanor used a sperm donor.”
Of all the things she could’ve said, he wasn’t expecting that explanation.
“You call your mother by her first name?” his mom asked, mild disapproval in her voice.
“She prefers that I do.” Alana shrugged. “She isn’t what one would call a conventional maternal figure.”
Even in his mother’s slightly inebriated condition, Noah doubted she missed the underlying sarcasm in Alana’s tone. But the tinge of sadness in her eyes was what got to him. Though she tried to sound matter-of-fact, her eyes told the truth. She knew disappointment well.
“I was basically raised by a nanny until I went to boarding school. When I came home for weekends and holidays, the housekeeper was there when Eleanor wasn’t. Grade school was a bit difficult. Even the kids with divorced parents had someone show up for functions. Sometimes I did wish…” She stared down at her pie and slowly carved out another bite. “This is delicious. I’d ask for the recipe except I wouldn’t know what to do with it.”
Noah smiled. His parents just stared at her.
Finally, his mother asked, “Does…Eleanor…live in New York, too?”
“Not far from me. We see each other a couple times a month, usually for lunch or dinner at a restaurant. I like keeping our visits to a time limit.”
His parents shared a glance. They hadn’t done that in front of him in a while. Then Celia asked, “Do you ever wonder about your—the man who fathered you?”
“I don’t think of him as my father. He donated his sperm for money, which, by the way, I don’t begrudge him. He didn’t want to be a parent. Some people shouldn’t be.” Alana’s lips curved in a sad smile. “Like Eleanor. Oh, I do love her and I’m grateful for the advantages she gave me. We simply don’t—” Alana blushed, her eyes widening for a moment. “I’m sorry, I seem to have told you more than you needed to hear.”
“Nonsense.” Celia reached across the table and gave her hand a hearty pat. “You’ve been the highlight of my week. It’s nice to have someone to talk to. You’re welcome here anytime.”
Noah shoveled in his last two bites and chewed quickly. He wiped his mouth, threw his napkin onto his plate. “It has been nice, Mom, but we do have to go. I have to stop by the office and check in with Roy before it gets too late.”
“Oh.” She seemed disappointed, but then smiled. “When do you leave, Alana? Maybe you two can come back for dinner again before you go.”
No guarantees were made, only that Noah promised he’d call later in the week. They said their goodbyes quickly, with hugs all around, after his father shocked him by offering to help wash the dishes so that they could start back to town. And it wasn’t because he was trying to get rid of them. The man even stepped out onto the porch to wave. Another shocker.
It was a dark, moonless night, with nothing but trees and nocturnal creatures between the family ranch and Blackfoot Falls. Noah and Alana had driven for five minutes before she broke the silence. “You’re mad at me for prolonging dinner, but I’m not sorry that I did,” she said, keeping her gaze on the road ahead. “So if you’re waiting for an apology you might as well give up.”
“I don’t expect one. No reason for it.”
She turned to look at him. “They’re nice people. I wish I could’ve met your sisters.”
“And my nieces?” he asked, smiling.
“No, they would’ve scared me to death.”
“Yeah, me, too, sometimes.” He shook his head. “I don’t envy my sister and brother-in-law when the girls get to be teenagers.”
“Teenagers? Ha. Twelve-year-old girls are sexting boys these days.”
Noah groaned. “Yeah, thanks for that.”
“It’s the truth. No sense sugarcoating things.”
He let her words float around in his head for a minute, dissecting them three ways to Wednesday. “You think I should’ve warned you about my mother.”
“Only if you think I should’ve kept my mouth shut about Eleanor.”
He’d guessed at her intention during dessert, and her quick, impassive response confirmed his suspicion. Whether she’d admit it or not, she’d learned a few tricks from her mother. “I knew what you were doing and I appreciate it.”
“What was I doing?”
“Deflecting for Mom, sympathizing, laying yourself open and making sure we knew you didn’t come from a perfect cookie-cutter background.” He smiled at her slack-jawed stare. “Do I need to go on?”
Finally, she sighed, a quiet sound of resignation. “You give me too much credit.” She slumped back. “I got a little carried away with the sperm donor thing. Way too much information.”
Chuckling, Noah shook his head. “You East Coast people…”
“What?”
“You call that getting carried away? Spend another afternoon at the diner or the Watering Hole.”
“What does it have to do with being from the East Coast?”
“I don’t know. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“People gossip and blab no matter where they’re from. I hear it in the break room at work. I can’t even grab a cup of coffee in peace. It drives me crazy.” She reached over and rubbed his thigh. “You didn’t, though. I respect that.”
“Tell you about my mom?” It was hard to keep his focus with Alana’s hand on his leg. He shrugged. “Not my story to tell. If I could take the burden from her, I would. But I can’t. I love her, and that’s all I can do. Though I’m glad you didn’t feel ambushed.”
After a moment’s silence, Alana said, “You’re a great son, you know that?” She squeezed his thigh. Nothing sexual, more a friendly gesture, but his brain was having trouble communicating that to his cock. “And she was absolutely lovely. She’s lonely and misses her daughters and grandkids.”
“I know.”
“But I understand.” Alana cleared her throat. “I really do. Family stuff can be so damn complicated. See, if it had been my mother I wouldn’t have been able to bear listening to her patronizing tone, seeing the bored look on her face. Only I would know, because she’s excellent at hiding her feelings, but it would kill me. So in that regard, I apologize for drawing out the evening if it made you uncomfortable.”
“You’re pretty good at hiding, yourself.”
“I am.” She moved her hand. “I’m damn good at it. All those why-don’t-you-have-a-dad questions when you’re little really tend to toughen one up.”
He hadn’t meant to upset her. “When I was a kid, I hated to be in public with her, or around her at all. That’s why I mostly hung out at the McAllisters.”
“Is that why you moved to Chicago?” Alana asked.
“Who told you I lived there?” Noah wasn’t necessarily surprised, more curious about what she’d heard. “Sadie?”
“Yes, she mentioned it. So did your mom. She said you came back after your older sister took off.” Alana paused. “Your mom told me about the miscarriages, too.”
“Did she?” Now that did throw him off. He’d hoped his mother didn’t think about that dark time in her life anymore. But wasn’t that part of the reason she drank? Naive and foolish of him to think she’d shaken off the past.
“Yes, she said that your sisters were ten and fourteen, you were almost thirteen, and her getting pregnant had been a shock to her and your father.”
Noah was glad when Alana stopped talking. God knew he was well acquainted with the rest of the story: the resigned joy, the miscarriage, the second miscarriage, his mom’s descent into the bottle.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I brought it up.” Alana turned her head to look out at the darkness. “That’s not true,” she said, bringing her gaze back to him. “I was feeling defensive because I assumed you thought, ironically, that I’d been gossiping. So I very clumsily tried to let you know I came by the information honestly.”
Noah smiled and reached over to cup the back of her neck. “Get over here.”
“Seriously,” she said, laughing. “I’m supposed to respond to ‘get over here’?”
“If you want a kiss.” He kept his eyes on the road, because he knew a curve was coming up. After that it was one mile to town.
She muttered something unintelligible and then slid closer. “It won’t be much of a kiss with you driving,” she murmured, the smile in her voice making him want to pull over and show her all kinds of things that could be done in the cab of a truck.
“You’re right,” he said. “We should forget it.” Before she could mouth off, he slipped his hand from her shoulder to the top of her breast. “I like it better when you don’t wear a bra.”
Her sharp intake of breath pleased him. “That would’ve gone over well with your parents. Is that Blackfoot Falls coming up?”
“Yep.” Lights glowed from Earl’s filling station at the edge of town. Thank God. Noah’s jeans were getting tight.
“We should stop in and check on Sadie.”
“No stopping.”
“But you’re going to your office anyway.”
“I lied.”
Alana let out a short laugh. “Sheriff Calder.”
He circled his thumb over her nipple, nice and hard even through the shirt and bra. “You have a problem with going straight home?”
“Not a one,” she said breathlessly.
* * *
ALANA THOUGHT SHE HAD IT ALL planned out. As soon as they made it through the front door of his house, she was going to jump him and rip that damn shirt off. Screw the lead-up. Something could go wrong, like this morning, and she wasn’t about to end up sleeping alone.
Ha.
The moment he had her inside, his mouth caught hers and he kicked the door closed behind them. Guess he showed me, she thought, and started giggling.
“What?”
“Lock it.”
“I will.”
“Now. I mean it,” she said against his mouth, because he wouldn’t stop kissing her. “I don’t want any interruptions. And take the phone off the hook and turn off your cell.”
That briefly brought him to a halt. “Sorry, the cell has to stay on.” He flipped the lock on the door and then returned to nipping and sucking at her lips with an urgency that stole her breath.
He cupped her breast through the T-shirt, finding her hardened nipple and toying with it until a small whimper rose from her throat. She arched back and his other arm banded around her waist, pulling her tighter and closer until she gasped for air. Only then did he loosen his hold and yank the hem of her shirt from her Levi’s.
She tried to get to his buttons, but he was in the way, pushing up her shirt and lowering his head to press soft kisses to the skin between her breasts. Alana didn’t realize he’d unsnapped her bra until it slackened. He shoved aside the cups and rolled his tongue over one taut nipple, then drew it tightly into his mouth. Pleasure shimmered through her body and she clutched his shoulders, the feel of hard-muscled flesh beneath the soft cotton making her anxious to get at his buttons again.
He wasn’t about to let her have her way. Maneuvering her past the recliner, then the couch, he kissed the line of her jaw, the side of her neck while he unsnapped her jeans. He steered her to the kitchen phone and used his elbow to knock the receiver from the cradle. The off-the-hook warning buzz startled her even though she should’ve expected it.
In the backyard, Dax started barking.
Noah cursed.
Alana laughed. “We have to let him in.”
“I know,” he muttered, and yanked down the tab of her zipper.
“You have a thing for kitchens?”
“Hmm?” He lifted his head and his mouth twisted in a lopsided smile. “No, saving time. Jesus, Dax, shut up.”
“I don’t think he got that. Oh.” She gasped at the warm, moist breath bathing her right breast. “Take off your shirt while I let him in.”
“He’s gonna be a pain in the ass,” Noah murmured against her nipple, biting softly, then using his tongue to soothe.
“We’ll give him a rawhide bone to keep him busy.” She tried to move toward the back door, but Noah’s growing ferocity overwhelmed her.
She was used to being more in charge, and she could barely breathe, much less order him to slow down. Probably because that wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t want it to end, not the kisses, not the way he was reaching inside her waistband to rub her backside, or the way he suckled her as if he could never get enough. The bedroom—that would be good, though.
“Hey.” She reached between them and touched his hard-on through the denim.
Noah groaned and took a shuddering breath.
She pressed her advantage, rubbing her palm up and down, delighting in the raspy moans coming from his throat. “We have to let Dax in before the neighbors start calling, or worse, knocking.”
“You’re right.”
Just as she was about to turn to the door, he cupped her chin with his slightly callused hand and held her face still for a leisurely, heart-stopping kiss that said he wasn’t done with her yet.
In the next couple minutes locks were checked, Dax was treated, twice, and the phone restored to order with the ringer turned off. Alana’s jeans and heels and Noah’s boots littered the hallway in their rush for his bedroom.
His comforter was still turned down from his nap. He had smoothed the brown sheets up to the pillows. The bed was king-size, and the four dark-wood bedposts inspired a fleeting but absurdly hot fantasy that had her swallowing hard. She spun toward him, her gaze going straight to the part of his chest where his shirt hung open.
Good Lord, he was perfect. He had plenty of lean muscle and there was a six-pack in there, but he wasn’t one of those bulky, overly muscled guys.
“Why do I have less clothes on than you do?” she asked, grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer.
“I’m more determined.”
“I doubt that.”
“Yeah?” He had her T-shirt off in the space of two heartbeats. Another second and her bra was history.
Her shaky laugh ended in a shuddery sigh at the way his hungry gaze ran down her nearly nude body. He smiled at the pink panties, with which he was well acquainted, then slid a hand beneath the elastic.
“Hey, wait.” She shoved ineffectually at him, trying to give herself enough room to finish stripping him.
“Did enough of that already.” He kissed her hard, following her as she moved backward to the bed.