The Fairest of Them All (14 page)

“Will you ride with me?”

“Thank you very much, but I already have a ride with Sara.” Carly tried to skip away, but she might as well have been padlocked to him.

“Sara’s taking Daniel home. You can ride with me.”

Her anger pricked at his calm, implacable tone. Carly spun away from him. “I don’t want to.”

He turned her around and lowered his head. Her heart stopped. Was he going to kiss her?

“Tough,” he muttered an inch from her mouth, then nudged her toward the door.

Although Carly wanted to ask Russ how he’d known she’d gone to the bar, she didn’t speak one word on the drive home. She considered slamming her apartment door in his face, but Russ was right on her heels. The excruciating silence continued while she flicked on a light and kicked off her shoes.

She’d rather eat worms than have this discussion. It was going to be awkward. She’d probably get teary and emotional while Russ remained logical and remote. There’d be no satisfactory conclusion. Russ would leave confused, with his emotions intact, and she’d probably cry herself to sleep.

“It’s late,” she began hopefully. “Maybe another time would be—”

Russ shook his head before she finished the sentence, and Carly sighed in defeat. She started to sit down on the sofa, then thought better of it and took a chair. A one-person chair instead of a two-person sofa where people talked and touched and made love. Carly bit her lip.

Russ remained standing. “Something went wrong the last time we saw each other. Is it your brothers?”

She took a deep breath and shook her head. “No.”

He stepped closer. “Matilda’s Dream?”

The smell of his after-shave teased her memory. “Not really.”

“Why won’t you look at me?” he demanded.

Carly snapped her head up and finally met his gaze of displeasure. Her anger kicked in. She stood. “I told you I didn’t want to talk.”

“Why?” he asked stonily.

“I can’t explain it, and even if I could, you’d never understand.”

“Give it a try.”

“Why?”

“’Cause I’m not leaving till you do.”

Carly glared at him. “Okay, Russ. Answer my question. How do you feel about me?”

His eyes flickered uncertainly for a second, then he shrugged. “I feel good about you.”

She nodded. “Good. I’ve heard you express more excitement about harvesting your catfish than that.”

“Well, if it’s excitement you want—”

“Not that kind.” Carly held up her hand, despite the sudden flash of heat his suggestion stirred. “Doesn’t it strike you as odd that the best description of your feelings for the woman you want to marry is good? I bet you feel good about my brothers. You feel good about your dogs. You feel good about having a beer at the end of the day.”

“Carly,” he began in a patient, long-suffering tone that she couldn’t tolerate.

She shook her head. Quick and clean would be better. “You don’t love me, do you?”

She held her breath, and a tiny, stupid part of her wished with the fervor of a toddler at Christmas.

Russ looked away, and the wish died. He didn’t have to say a word.

He took her hand. “Carly, love isn’t always the most important ingredient in a successful relationship. Respect, common backgrounds, common goals.” He grinned. “Great sex.”

She jerked away. “I’m serious, Russ. I don’t think we’re right for each other.”

Russ narrowed his gaze, experiencing the familiar sensation of being offtrack with his plan again. He fought it. “You can trust me. I’ve thought this thing through. We’re right for each other.”

Carly shook her head sadly. “You didn’t think of one thing. I need a man who loves me.”

Russ saw her blinking, fighting unshed tears. He felt more helpless than a linebacker with ten bodies on top of him as he stretched to recover a fumbled ball. Hell, it was enough to make a man take up chanting.

“I need a man who’s crazy about me. Crazy enough to—” She broke off, clearly searching for the right words.

“To do what?”

She raised her shoulders. “I don’t know. Crazy enough to carve our initials in a tree. Crazy enough to get a tattoo of my name.”

“A tattoo!” Russ snorted. “Carly, they’re permanent.” He tried to negotiate. “I could see initials in a tree as long as it didn’t damage a good tree, but a tattoo. It’s not practical.”

“It’s crazy,” she said with a resigned I-told-you-so expression on her face.

Russ gave a heavy sigh and reached to take her in his arms, but she backed away. Her small movement of rejection pierced his thick skin, and his rumble of unease grew to something more like pain. He watched her carefully. “So what do we do now? We can’t forget this weekend.”

Carly crossed her arms over her chest. “No. We can’t forget this”—she waved her hand—”this weekend. But we’re mature adults.” She began to pace, and Russ wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or herself. “Even adults make mistakes. If we put it behind us—”

Her words made his blood run cold. Unable to bear the direction she was taking, he placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “I can’t put it behind me.” He turned her around and brushed a tear from her cheek. “I’ve felt you under me. I’ve touched you in ways no other man has, and I don’t take it lightly.”

“Oh, Russ.” Carly bit her lip to hold back yet another moan. If only he would love her. She tensed as he wrapped his arms around her.

“I’ve been so deep inside you I never wanted to leave.”

Her heart turned inside out, and he took her mouth with the want and need of a man unwilling to be denied. It was heaven knowing how much he wanted her and hell knowing he’d never love her. Her mouth opened to his coaxing, and she instinctively responded, drawing a pleased growl from him. Her breasts strained against her bra, the tips achy from arousal, and lower, she felt a swollen emptiness where he pressed against her and rocked.

But her throat was a knot of torment at what he couldn’t or wouldn’t give her. Unbidden, a sob squeezed out and Russ gentled the kiss.

“I’m not ready to give you up, Carly,” he muttered against her hair. “Don’t close the book on us yet. We haven’t given each other a fair chance.” He pulled back and winced. “I don’t want to make you cry, baby.” The determination came back in his eyes. “Don’t lock me out. Promise, Carly.”

She thought she heard the faintest thread of desperation in his voice. Her mind denied it, but her heart hoped. “I can’t marry you,” she insisted in a not-so-steady voice.

He stopped any further protest with a firm kiss.

“We’ll talk about that later. Just don’t shut me out.”

Driving home that night, Russ assured himself that Carly would come around. She would see how right they were for each other. This was temporary, just another rut in the bumpy road to matrimony.

It came at a damned inconvenient time, however, because within a week he’d be tied up with harvesting catfish. He sensed this was a crucial time for her and thought about what he should do to ensure her commitment.

He’d like to haul her off to bed and rid her of every tiny protest in her feminine mind. But it probably wouldn’t work. While men turned into mental and physical mush after sex, women tended to snap back faster with questions and emotional discussions. Russ shuddered at the thought.

He could do something romantic, he supposed, then snorted in derision. If he started acting romantic now, then Carly would expect it throughout their marriage.

He sighed as he pulled into his dirt driveway. Rationally, he was confident this quirk of Carly’s would blow over.

Then he thought of her tear-filled eyes and the sob catching in her throat. “I can’t marry you,” she’d said. His neck felt stiff with tension. His hands tightened around the steering wheel in a death grip.

Russ cursed, pulling the truck to a stop. A tattoo of all things. All the logic in the world wasn’t going to get rid of the uneasy dread that sat in his stomach. He looked at his house, dark and empty. It needed Carly’s laughter to make it a home. He wondered for an agonizing moment if all his planning and wanting had turned into something bigger and more frightening. Something emotional, God help him.

“The roses were beautiful, Russ,” Carly said in a quiet voice, when he appeared in the doorway below deck.

Walking forward, Russ heard the warmth in her voice and felt his pulse skip a beat. “Glad you liked them,” he said gruffly, then took her hand and brushed a kiss over it. She blushed, and he was infinitely glad he’d sent those roses.

In concession to the heat, she wore a lavender tank top and white shorts that showed the length of her tanned shapely legs. Her hair was tousled and her face smudged, and Russ could only think of how much fun it would be to join her in a shower and clean every inch of her.

A cough broke the moment, and Russ noticed Troy behind Carly.

“Hi, Russ,” Troy said in a singsong voice. Then he fluttered his hands as if plucking imaginary harp strings.

Russ nodded stiffly. “Troy. What are you doing here?”

“Jarod and Garth skipped off to the beach, so I’m helping out my baby sister with our riverboat.” He gave Russ a broad wink.

Russ stifled the urge to roll his eyes. “You can go do something you want to do, now. I’ll help her.” He looked around, noticing life vests thrown all over the place. “What happened?”

“Coast guard inspection,” Carly said as she picked up one and put it away. “These guys get their grins by pulling everything out and leaving it as messy as possible. I’ve got a special group coming for lunch tomorrow, so I need to get it all put away.”

“Are they paying?” Troy asked.

Carly paused, then continued. “No, it’s a charity.”

“Carly, you gotta cut that out. You’ll never make any money if you keep giving these free cruises. Who is it this time? The Ladies Auxiliary?”

“It’s not the Ladies Auxiliary,” she assured him patiently. But Russ heard the tension in her tone. Rolling up his sleeves, he studied her.

“Then who is it?” Troy asked impertinently.

She didn't answer for a full moment, putting away another life vest. “It’s a support group for children who have lost a parent.”

The simple statement rendered the two men silent. Troy stared at Carly with his mouth open, and Russ watched the calm expression on her face. Underneath the calm, he sensed turmoil. He frowned.

Recovering his voice, Troy cleared his throat and shrugged. “Well, I, uh, guess that’s okay. After all, it’s only one time.” He looked at Russ. “If you’re gonna help Carly, I think I’ll head on back to the farm. See you later.” He awkwardly planted a kiss on Carly’s cheek and left.

Carly just looked after him and sighed.

“You heard from the bank yet?”

She nodded. “They won’t give me the money.” When he saw the disappointment on her face, he felt guilty over his extreme relief. “Well, if you can’t buy out your brothers, have you thought about finding a silent partner?”

She looked confused. “But who? I’d need someone with enough money who’d let me handle things without interference.”

Russ wanted to shout, “
Me!
” Instead, he kept his voice lowered. “There must be someone in town who you can trust. He would have to have a business of his own, so he wouldn’t be tempted to meddle in yours. He would have to be confident in your business abilities. It probably wouldn’t hurt if you’d known him a long time, so neither of you would be surprised.” Russ felt sure he was drawing an accurate picture of himself.

“Hmmm,” she said cocking her head to one side. “I can’t really think of—” Her face cleared. “Wait a minute. What about the director from National Electronics? I haven't known him very long, but he’d be perfect. He’s got money and he’s focused on his own business, and he seems to like me.”

Russ gazed at the ceiling, silently begging for mercy.

“Russ,” Carly said as she hugged him, “that's a great idea.”

Caught between the pleasure of feeling her pressed against him and the frustration of being waylaid again, Russ groaned. “I wouldn’t rush into anything. After all, you don’t really know this guy. He could end up being worse than your brothers.”

“I’ll think it over first,” she assured him. “But it’s a great idea. Thanks.”

Then she kissed him. She’d probably intended it as a light gesture of appreciation, but Russ’s arms instinctively tightened around her. He nudged her lips open with his until he could taste her, and her sweetness and warmth sent a surge of heat throughout his blood. She squeezed his shoulders, and he explored her silky mouth with his tongue. By the time he pulled away, he felt as though he were missing one lung and his jeans didn’t fit right.

Carly looked a little shell-shocked herself. Russ took a deep breath and grinned slowly. “You’re welcome.”

As the hot afternoon gave way to a warm, humid evening, Carly felt increasingly distracted. Part of her wanted to throw Russ overboard and scream, “I love you and you don’t love me. Leave me alone!” Another part of her liked having him around. He was attentive and watchful in a way that made her heart swell.

He’d taken off his white shirt hours earlier. Every movement accentuated the strength of his muscled chest, ribs, and flat belly. She was reminded of the time she’d spent exploring his body. She remembered the way his stomach quivered when she’d run her fingers across it. She’d pressed her mouth against his navel, intending to taste him, but he’d pulled her up and busied her mouth with his.

“Carly, where are you?” Russ asked, leaning over her.

She blinked and shook off the images, shifting on the wooden bench. Pure craziness! She’d decided to take a short break and ended up thinking about Russ. “Right here,” she said, offering him a can of soda. “It was nice of you to help today. You really didn't have to.”

“Yes I did.” He straddled the bench and took a long drink.

Carly watched his throat work while he swallowed the cool liquid, and felt her own mouth go dry. This wasn’t right, she thought. She was supposed to be backing away from Russ, not fixating on his body. She moved to stand, but he pulled her back down.