Gambling On a Heart (18 page)

Following the party that Christmas Eve, Zack had brought Tracy here, and he’d told her about his dreams after making love to her. She must have found his ideas boring, because she’d fallen to sleep. At the time, he’d found it endearing. After all, he’d made love to her several times before he spilled his guts.

Beneath the Christmas picture was a large professionally done photograph of Tracy. Taken senior year, it was the one in their yearbook. Her hair was permed and curled high, sprayed stiff with too much hairspray. Her makeup was a little overdone, but she took his breath away.

He slowly laid it beside him on the couch and picked up the next picture–a blown up snapshot of them on graduation day. As lightning flashed and thunder rattled the glass in the big windows, he went back in time. They were dressed in their caps and gowns, proudly holding their diplomas–and each other. Around her neck was the sash of an honor student, and a corsage of white roses was pinned to her breast signifying her as the class salutatorian. He’d been just happy to get through school. He hadn’t cared about being valedictorian, so he’d gotten rid of the trappings as soon as he’d finished the speech and his diploma was in his hand.

“Is that you and Miz Tracy?”

He started and looked up to Mandy standing before him in her nightgown. She hugged the stuffed rabbit Lisa had given to her, and sucked on her thumb. She only did that when she was afraid.

He set aside the past and reached for the little girl he loved more than anything. As he pulled her onto his lap, he asked, “Can’t you sleep, baby girl?”

She moved her head in the negative against his chest and snuggled close. “You didn’t answer my question.”

He chuckled low in his chest. Amanda Jean Cartwright might only be six years old, but she was nobody’s fool. “Yeah, that’s me and Miz Tracy. We were graduating high school.”

“Was Momma there?”

“No.” He sighed. “I hadn’t met your momma yet.”

“Oh.” She shifted away and looked into the box sitting beside him on the couch. The next photo was of him and Tracy kissing by the barn. He hadn’t even known the picture was taken until Logan had tried to blackmail him with it. “Did you like her?”

“Yeah, Mandy, I did.” How did he tell a six-year-old about the kind of betrayal he’d suffered? “But she decided she liked Bobby’s daddy more.”

Mandy lay back against him again. “I wish she liked you again. Miz Tracy could be your friend and my substitute momma if she did. She could give me a baby sister and Bobby would be my big brother.”

“Amanda Jean.” He breathed and held her close. The picture of the passionate kiss drew his attention, and he was painfully reminded how much he missed Tracy Quinn.

And how much he wished he could fulfill his daughter’s wish.

Chapter 9

Bobby hung up the old wall phone in the kitchen and sulked into the living room where Jake sat on his new leather recliner. Bobby bit on his bottom lip–an annoying habit he’d inherited from the bitch. Something had him thinking.

“Hey, T-Rex, what did she say to you?” Jake muted the Thursday night football game on TV.

Bobby sat on the edge of the couch and shrugged a shoulder. “Mom’s dating another guy again.”

“And that surprises you?” Jake didn’t even try to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

“I guess not, but I never met any of those other guys.” Bobby took a deep breath and looked up at Jake. “It’s the sheriff. She said they’re coming over to ranch for supper tomorrow night.”

“They?”

“Sheriff Cartwright and Mandy.”

Ah, yeah, the daughter. “How do you feel about your mom and the sheriff together?” Jake took a drink from the bottle of Coors in his hand. He tossed the remote onto the table beside his chair as he regarded Bobby over the tilted bottle.

“I don’t know. I like Mandy. She’s okay for a girl.” Bobby played with his fingers by entwining them, then straightening them. “The sheriff’s okay, too, I guess.”

Jake lowered the bottle. “Except he yelled at you when he has no right to. He’s not related to you in any way that matters.”

Bobby hesitated and then nodded. “Yeah, I guess. But Mom said he didn’t really yell.”

After setting the beer down beside the remote on the messy end table, Jake sat forward and peered at Bobby. “Don’t let your mother talk you into believin’ something that didn’t happen, Bobby.” Damn, how he wished he could change the boy’s name. He hated that, in a weak moment after his birth, Tracy talked him into naming his son after her arrogant father. “Cartwright can’t be trusted.”

“What do you mean?” Bobby fidgeted on his seat.

“He’s the reason I wasn’t able to play professional ball.” When Bobby’s face pinched in a pretty good imitation of a question mark, Jake explained, “Back in high school I was on my way to playing the best ball around. I was scouted out and given a scholarship to Texas A and M to play for them at the end of the season of my junior year. But because I trusted that–” He caught the word
bastard
just in time. “Trusted Zack, I tore up my right knee and couldn’t play at all my senior year. I lost the money and the chance to go to school. Unlike your mom, I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth.”

“How did Sheriff Cartwright make you hurt your knee?”

“I hated horses. Still do. Zack knew that, but he demanded we go riding. That’s why I never want you on a horse. You have the chance I never did. Anyway, we were going along the cliffs that cut into the ranch when my horse slipped and threw me. My foot got caught in the stirrup, and the horse dragged me. If Cartwright hadn’t insisted we go riding on one of the most dangerous trails on the CW, I’d be playing in the NFL right now.”

Jake watched Bobby chew on what he’d told him. Before he could ask the questions Jake saw forming, he added, “Zack is no one’s friend, T-Rex. He’ll try to win you over to his side, then he’ll hurt you just like he did me.”

* * * *

“Don’t worry,” Tracy said, drawing Zack’s attention back to her. “They’ll be fine. Thanks for the football. Bobby liked it.”

Zack watched Amanda run up the gleaming, curved, stairway after Bobby. Eileen Quinn’s two Yorkies yipped and barked as they bounded up behind the kids. “I hope so. I don’t think I made a great impression on him at the wedding. I was a little harsh.” Tracy had been right about their kids. Despite the difference of four years in age and being of opposite sexes, Bobby and Amanda were becoming fast friends.

Bobby would be my big brother.

He forced the memory of Mandy’s comment to the back of his mind and looked at Tracy.

“Bobby needed someone to show him he was being a butthead. You did that. Don’t worry about it.”

Zack’s gaze drifted to her bright smile. “Sorry we’re late.” He removed his hat then ran his fingers through his hair. “I was stuck at the office again.”

“Another rustling?”

“No. There was an accident on Highway Six.” He shook his head as images of the mangled mess of the car involved flashed in his mind.

She started moving down the hall. “Bad?”

“Yeah.” As he followed her into the kitchen, his boots thumped on the Italian tiles. “The driver was drunk and wrapped himself around a telephone pole.”

She pushed the kitchen door open and grimaced. “Oh, no. Not someone we know? Is he okay?”

He swallowed and shook his head. “He’s dead. No, he wasn’t anyone you’d know. He was just passing through from Crawford to Palo Pinto County.”

“Oh.”

She stopped by the island and leaned against the marble edge as if waiting for him to speak. Problem was he couldn’t. She looked great dressed in white jeans and a bright electric blue, lightweight sweater, which seemed to bring out the light blue of her otherwise gray eyes. Her hair was pulled over her shoulder and held in place with one of those fat ponytail things Mandy called a scrunchie. Then he noticed the bangs hanging over her forehead.

“You cut your hair.”

She seemed startled he’d noticed. “Just the front and trimmed the ends. This style seems to be the trend in Hollywood these days. Thought I’d give it a try. Melissa cut it for me.” Brightening, she added, “Thanks for noticing. Most people never would.”

Unsure of what else he could say that didn’t make it obvious he’d notice even the slightest change, he said, “It’s the bangs. You didn’t have them before.”

“True.” Her smile quivered a little. “Well, it’s getting late, and I have to get the grill going.”

He nodded and looked around the large kitchen. The room was huge and warmly decorated in a fruit theme, all maple wood cabinetry and stainless steel. But he didn’t see many personal items around. The sand-colored granite countertops were virtually bare. “Still unpacking?”

“Not really. I moved in the stuff I had and bought a few things. But the house is still pretty empty. Mom and Dad are bringing their furniture with them when they come home next week.”

“How do you like the house?” He asked when the silence stretched too long. Then realized how lame the question was. She’d lived in this monster maze of rooms as a teenager.

“I’m still getting used to it. But right now, I’m trying not to get lost going from my bed to the bathroom. I’ve never slept in the master bedroom before. Mom and Dad took the guest suite.”

Zack chuckled. “Well, I hope you drew a map. Otherwise, you could have dire consequences if you end up somewhere else.”

A grin lit up her face. “Oh, so very true.”

There were absolutely no signs of supper, but he smelled potatoes baking in the oven. Tracy’s mother was a chef. What kind of cook was his hostess?

As the lag in the conversation stretched uncomfortably, he twisted his hat in his hand, wishing he’d left it in the truck. She must have noticed his fidgeting and jumped away from the island. “I’m sorry. You can stow your hat in the closet through here. I really need to get a rack for the entry.” She led him into the mudroom and slid a door open. The coat closet was big and nearly empty. Reaching past her shoulder, he laid the old Stetson on a shelf. When she turned toward him, he brushed her breast with his upper arm, causing a flame to shoot through him.

Her thin sweater tightened over her pert breasts as she sucked in a deep breath, providing proof their proximity to each other affected her as powerfully as it did him. He pulled his gaze from her chest to lock with her eyes. They had darkened to a silvery blue, made more intense by the brilliant color of her top. Her breath hitched, and her eyes lowered to his lips. He knew what she wanted, because he wanted it even more.

Without thinking about exactly what he was doing, he lowered his lips to hers. His heart slammed into overdrive when she lifted her hands to his chest and moaned his name. He wrapped his hand around her nape and tilted her face to allow him better access to her mouth. When he traced her upper lip with his tongue, she drew in a breath and opened her mouth under his. He took the invitation by thrusting his tongue deeply into the warm sweetness.

As their tongues dueled, she wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing her body in full contact with his. She sucked on his tongue when he pressed his hard-on into her lower belly. Sweet mercy, he wanted to strip her right here and have his way with her on the cold tile floor of her mudroom. Damn the danger to his pride and self-respect.

And damn the alarm warning him to be careful.

But he couldn’t forget their kids were upstairs. Somehow, somewhere, he found the control to back off and eventually break the kiss. Tracy opened her eyes and peered at him, dazed. She blinked a few times as he ran the back of his fingers over her cheek. He couldn’t hold in the raspy laugh.

“What’s funny?”

“You had that exact same expression on your face the very first time I kissed you.” His voice seemed to come from his toes as he remembered their first kiss. He’d had no idea how innocent she was until that night. How could she still have that virginal look of awe?

Her cheeks turned a darker pink and embarrassment replaced the wonder, making her appear even more naive. “Is that a good thing?”

He continued to caress her cheek. “I don’t know.”

Her hold around his neck slackened as she slipped her hands from around his neck. She smoothed his shirt where her earlier kneading had wrinkled the chambray. Looking at her hands, she winced. “I’d better get the grill started. The potatoes should be done in thirty minutes.”