ONCE IN A BLUE MOON (BLUEBONNET, TEXAS Book 2) (12 page)

"Sure looks a darn sight better with some color," Tara said, helping herself to some tea.

"You think Ty will mind?" I looked around, suddenly a bundle of nerves at what Ty would think of my wholesale redecorating job.

"I doubt it." Tim laughed, crossing over to the table and pulling out a chair. Tara slid a glass over to him and pouring another for herself.

Tired, we all sat quietly for a minute.

"Tim, could you hang that red framed mirror for me? Oh, and what are you doing on Tuesday?" I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my temples. It was past my naptime.

"Well sure, honey, if we can find a hammer and nails. And, I can be available for whenever you need. Ask and it’s yours."

"I think you’re marrying the wrong man," Tara quipped, giggling. Tim and Cassi joined in.

"Is that so?" came a voice from the door.

My face on fire, I turned to see a sweaty dirty Ty standing in the open doorway. He still looked good despite the fine layer of grit that clung to him. He stepped down into the living room, leaving a trail of dusty footprints in his wake.

"Would you like some tea?" I clutched my fingers in my lap, my heart picking up speed.

"No, I gotta go back to work. I saw the cars and thought I’d come see how things were going." Tight lipped, he looked around and said, "Looks like you got everything covered."

He left as fast as he’d come, and I high-tailed it to the kitchen, trying to hold in my emotions. Tim followed, finally locating a hammer.

He slammed a drawer behind me, then appeared at my elbow, lifting a cracked coffee cup. "Ty let Rhea take whatever she wanted. Stupid-ass." Then softer, "Give him some time, girl. It’ll be okay."

I threw myself at him, tears streaming from my eyes, full blown sobs hard on their heels.

"What did you do to her?" Cassi demanded from the doorway.

"Nothing! She’s upset over Ty."

"I don’t know why she loves that jackass anyway," she swore, patting my back.

Horrified, I sucked in my breath, but Tim squeezed me tighter against him.

"It’s all right, girl. I won’t tell him," he murmured. "But it makes me feel a hell of a lot better about you marrying him. Now let’s get this mirror hung.”

Chapter Ten

GIMME A BULLET

Scowling, Ty flung the front door open, ready to yell at his brothers who’d been teasing him about the wedding non-stop for the last two days.

Only, it wasn’t his brothers.

"I’m not supposed to see you." He immediately swung the door between them, blocking his view of Bettina.

But the damage was done. He rested his head against the door and squeezed his eyes shut. She looked so damned pretty in her fancy pink dress and her curly hair all piled on her head.

"Well, you’ve seen me, so open the door."

"We can talk like this." What if she’d come to back out? What then? What about their baby?

She sighed. "Are you alone?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Because it’s personal and I’m cold, Ty."

He was too much of a gentleman to leave her standing outside in the cold and swung the door open a bit more, looking her over. Then felt his face turn red when he realized she was checking him out, too. A part of him was suddenly glad he’d taken Delaney’s advice about the seafoam green shirt. "Did you change your mind?"

"Not yet. But I might if you don’t let me in, Tyrell Andrew Boudreaux."

"How’d you know my full name?"

"Marriage license." She clutched her leather car-coat around her as a stiff wind made her shiver and raised goose bumps on his arms.

He finally pulled himself together and swung the door wide, standing aside. He’d spent all morning prowling the house, had even run Tim off, still mad because she’d had Tim help her on Sunday instead of him. God, he wanted a Xanax.

"Have a seat." He shut the front door, closing off the bitter wind that had snuck up from nowhere.

Her silence worried him.

"How are you feeling?" He followed her over to the dining table and braced himself against a chair but didn’t sit. He couldn’t seem to keep still.

"Fine. I’m fine." She shrugged out of her coat and crossed her legs.

"The baby’s okay?"
How could she sit there and act so calm?

"The baby’s fine." She studied him again and recrossed her legs.

"Do you want something to drink?" He pointed toward the kitchen with eyebrows raised.

"No, Ty, I want to talk. Just...gimme a minute."

Of course she did.
Maybe it’d be quick and painless. He studied his hands and wondered if he could take the other shirts back. "Sorry. Sure."

"Do you really want to marry me, Ty?" Her voice broke on
want
and rose in pitch on his name.

That got his attention. "You’re having my baby."

"That’s not what I asked," she countered, a frown on her pale smooth face.

"Of course I want to marry you. You’re the mother of my child." And that meant the world to him. He sank down on one knee and took her hands in his, praying she wouldn’t notice how clammy his were.

"I see." Her eyes on their hands, she squeezed his fingers and swallowed, then swallowed again.

There was more. She had conditions. Terms of surrender.

"What kind of marriage is this going to be, Ty?"

Nope, just a question that left him scratching his head. "Well, a marriage." He shrugged. "What do you mean?"

When she took another deep breath, he suddenly realized she was just as bent out of shape over getting married as him. "What I mean is are we going to share a bedroom....or not? Are we going to live like roommates?"

God, no.

"Or try and have a real marriage. I mean
really
try. I know you don’t love me, Ty. That’s a given, but at one time, there was something physical between us. Something I really enjoyed. I’m a normal healthy woman and I just want to know what to expect...sexually and...not sexually. God, maybe we should just forget this whole thing," she muttered.

She’d enjoyed sex with him.

"No! N-no, we shouldn’t. I-I honestly hadn’t thought about it. I like you and I do care about you...and not just as the mother of my child either. I just assumed—what do you want?"

"I had hoped we...could."

Could what?
He frowned and waited for her to continue. He hadn’t signed up for a roommate. One had been enough.

"Have a real marriage...with sex."

Sex was good.
His face grew steadily hotter and he couldn’t meet her eyes. Or talk. Sex with Bettina was
very
good. "Sounds good to me. Sure, whatever works."

"So, you’re willing to try, give us a hundred percent?"

A real marriage, not roommates. A friend. A lover. He studied their hands, hers all pale and soft against his big rough ones. "Absolutely."

"Then let’s go get married."

The cake and flowers were beautiful and so was his bride. Momma and Jessa both cried. The wind died down, the sun came out, and gave them a beautiful fall day despite the occasional brisk gust. Everything went off without a hitch. He’d done it. The one thing he’d sworn to never do again. Get married.  

Around sundown he wandered out to the back porch and accepted a glass of scotch and a cigar from his dad. A couple small sips wouldn’t kill him or arouse suspicion. But he’d have to skip the Xanax tonight—the Xanax he’d hidden in his dresser drawer. He’d been working on weaning himself off them anyway.

"You gonna make it there, Bub?" Zack smiled at him from his spot next to Dad.

Ty laughed and ducked his head. "I’m tired."

"You not sleeping again?" His dad frowned up at him in obvious concern.

"Too much excitement, I guess." He shrugged it off, hoping they’d let it go. He wasn’t in the mood for anything—teasing
or
smothering.

By the time he got home, Bettina’s friends were gone and she was sound asleep on the couch. Dressed in sweats and her face scrubbed free of makeup, she looked plumb worn out. He quietly stripped to his boxers and pulled back the sheets on the bed, then went back to get her.

"What are you doing?" She locked her arms around his neck and sleepily hung on.

"Putting you to bed. The couch is no place for a pregnant woman."

"I hate that couch," she grumbled. She needed her rest.

"So do I." More than she knew. He laid her down and covered her with the sheet and blanket, then stretched out on his side. Despite the little bit of scotch, sleep was a while in coming. He was too aware of Bettina sleeping on the other side of the bed. The irony didn’t escape him. He was sleeping with his new wife in the same bed he’d slept with his last wife in. It was like something out of a cheesy drama.

He flopped on his stomach and wrapped an arm around one pillow, finally managing to doze off.

Damnit, not tonight!

He was dreaming, but he couldn’t stop it. Lost in the same dismal dream he’d had ever since Rhea had left him. Lost in the dark and gloom. Running in a tunnel with no end and fighting for oxygen. Up ahead he saw a light. He ran toward it, through it and came to a screeching halt at the sight of his ex-wife standing under his favorite cottonwood tree.

But from there everything changed.

"Too late. You lose!" She held a baby carrier on her arm. An empty one.

She’d taken his baby. His stomach knotted up even tighter. He tried to catch his breath and process it all. Tried to tell himself it was all a dream. Struggled to break free of the dream’s smothering grip.

He felt the bed dip and a hand on his shoulder, but he still couldn’t wake up.

The Rhea-Demon strolled closer, swinging the carrier. So close he could see the cracks in her makeup. The thought of what might be underneath scared the hell out of him. "You didn’t honestly think I’d let you—"

"Ty!" Someone shouted, interrupting her viscous rant.

"You or the baby, Ty, it’s you or—"

"Ty, honey, wake up."

"No!" He jerked upright, struggling for air and covered in sweat, his heart beating a spastic rhythm. He wanted out of the bed. He wanted to be outside in the cold night air but something was in his way.

He jumped at the feel of someone’s hands in his hair, gently pushing it back from his face.

"Are you alright?"

Bettina.
A bead of it trickle down the side of his face and she wiped it away.

"Ty," she whispered.

"Huh?" he grunted, eyes still closed. Still panting. He’d probably scared the hell out of her.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?"

He nodded, shivering from the cooling sweat as his heart finally slowed and found a semi-normal beat.

"Do you want a shower?" Her hands were still in his hair.

He nodded again.

"I’ll be right back, okay?" She squeezed his shoulder and eased off the bed.

At the sound of running water, he left the bed and stumbled after her, leaning against the doorjamb. The harsh light made him blink.

"Are you ready?"

Ty mumbled his thanks, a hank of hair falling across his forehead. He flinched when she reached for him, but all she did was push his hair off his face again. After Bettina left, he shucked his boxers and stepped under the hot spray.

Fear and anger brought the tears. The Rhea-Demon in his nightmares wanted his child. She wanted his happiness. And one way or another, she’d get it. He couldn’t even tell Bettina about the dream.

Not without fessing up about Rhea’s abuse and that would never happen.

* * *

Ty drowsily snuggled into the warm, sweet-smelling body next to him. The scent tickled his nose and reminded him of riding through a field of spring flowers. She was soft, and he was hard.

Very, very hard.

And he could feel the swell of her belly where their baby grew. He’d made a baby, and he wanted Bettina. His fingers traced the contours of her backbone and dipped into the hollow at the base of her spine. Even through the old t-shirt, she felt soft.

She squirmed against him, and still a little unsure of himself, he tugged her shirt up. One of her long legs slid across his, and Ty felt the air whoosh out of his lungs.

He was so hard.

One of her hands played with his hair and he ate it up. Bolder now, he reached beneath her shirt and trailed his fingers across her silky warm skin. His hands skimmed her hips through her panties and ran up her spine again. She shivered and nestled closer.

Back down her side now, Ty’s hand moved across her hips to the long leg thrown across his. He explored, enjoying the feel of her, knowing instinctively that she was aroused. Impatient, he pushed at her panties, wanting to feel her bare skin, to touch her.

"Hang on," she whispered, scooting away and slipped them off. He watched her, eyes half closed, and did likewise, pleasantly surprised to find her hands on him. Just like last time. Rhea had never touched.

He shoved the thought away, content to let Bettina lead again as she pushed him back. She kissed his neck while her hand stroked his cock.

"God, yes."
He’d died and gone to heaven. He smiled only to grunt in surprise at the feel of her teeth nipping his earlobe.

"Sorry," she whispered. Her voice didn’t sound sorry.

"Do it again." Maybe marriage to Bettina wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.

She did, straddling him and nipping his neck. Ty cried out when she found the sensitive spot at the crook of his neck. He liked the feel of her on him. He felt safe, cradled and almost content as she slipped over him and took his cock inside her.

She was wet, and he hadn’t even touched her. Bettina moaned in his ear, "God, I love morning sex."

He buried one hand in her long hair and groaned. She was so soft and wet, he wanted to come. He didn’t though, not yet. This time he’d get it right. His hands skimmed her back as she draped herself over him and continued to ride him.

"Do you like that?" she whispered softly in his ear. Her hips shimmied in long, smooth strides.

"Yes." Ty wished he could watch her but was too shy to ask. His moan, endless and low, came from deep within. He was so close. "Bettina!"