Adopted Son (13 page)

Grace was unsure of what to say or do. This was a kid who’d been traumatized and whom Tuck had reached out to, one of many. What could she say to him? Words eluded her and she wished she’d called first. She clutched Sam a little tighter.

“I’m nine, almost ten,” Dillon said proudly.

“Oh, my, you’re getting so old.” Grace stared into his shining blue eyes and her nervousness eased. She eyed the bale of hay and wondered what kind of germs it held. She also wondered what kind of tiny furry creatures made this old barn their home—maybe even spiders. With strength born of sheer determination she walked over and sat by Dillon, refusing to squirm.

Another tiny step.

Dillon tipped back his cowboy hat and his blond hair poked out from underneath. “I know. I tell my mom that all the time.” Dillon looked at Sam in her lap. “He likes for you to pet him.”

“Yes, he does.” Grace scratched Sam behind his ears and felt comfortable doing it. But that urge to wash her hands was very strong.

“I like Tuck,” Dillon said suddenly.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, zeroing in on his sad expression.

“Do you ever have good and bad feelings at the same time?”

“Sure.”

“My mom and I are moving to Kansas to live with my grandpa. I’m happy about that ’cause my mom won’t have to work so hard and I’ll get to drive a tractor. But I’m sad ’cause I’ll never see Tuck again. He’s better than a daddy. He’s my best friend. I’ll miss him.”

“You can call him,” Grace said. Any awkwardness she felt suddenly vanished in her desire to ease Dillon’s sadness.

“That’s what Tuck told me. It gets really cold in Kansas. I can’t wait to see snow.” Dillon shifted gears quickly, as most kids did. He was sad at the thought of losing Tuck, but Grace knew he would adjust quickly to his new life.

“Who’s ready for pizza?” Tuck asked, strolling into the barn.

“Me.” Dillon jumped up.

“How about if we invite Grace to go with us?” Tuck spoke to Dillon, and Grace knew Tuck was letting Dillon make the decision so she’d feel comfortable.

“Sure,” Dillon answered without hesitation. “I bet I can beat you at video games.”

“You’re on,” Grace said, smiling.

They first went to the movies and saw a family film, eating a bucket of popcorn. Pizza was next on Dillon’s to-do list. Grace watched Tuck and Dillon play video games then Dillon insisted she play.

The moment was surreal. She glanced around at the families with kids, laughing, giggling, having fun. She, Grace Whitten, stood in sneakers and jeans with her hair disheveled. She had never felt happier in her life.

Her eyes caught Tuck’s and he smiled. Her heart skipped in the most pleasing way. So much had been missing from her life, but looking into his eyes she was sure she had found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

I
T WAS LATE
when they took Dillon home. Sheila, Dillon’s mother, worked two shifts as a waitress on weekends and didn’t get off until eleven. Tuck told her that he never took Dillon home unless Sheila was there.

Dillon and his mom lived in government housing and Tuck pulled up to the curb of an apartment complex. Streetlights gave a shadowy view of the old brick two-story buildings.

“I had a great time,” Dillon said, leaning over the seat. “I’m glad you came, Grace. I so beat you at Hoop Fever.”

“Yes, you did.” Grace smiled.

A young woman came out of one of the downstairs apartments. She was thin and didn’t look more than eighteen, but Grace knew she was older.

“Oh, there’s Mom. Bye, Grace.”

“Bye,” she called.

Tuck followed Dillon up the sidewalk and shook hands with Sheila. He squatted and Dillon hugged him, holding on tight. Grace swallowed a lump in her throat. Each day she understood Tuck more and more—the selfless love and devotion he gave to kids like Dillon.

And to Brady.

A moment of guilt pierced her, and she wondered if Tuck had forgiven her for her part in the Templetons’ winning custody of Brady. Tuck didn’t hold grudges; she was sure of that. But still, she wanted to hear him say the words—that he didn’t blame her.

Tonight they had to talk. She had to know how he felt about her.

T
HE SILENCE
on the drive home was nice, pleasant. Grace knew Tuck was thinking about Dillon and that he’d soon be leaving. Tuck gave so much of himself to these kids that she wondered if there was any room for a woman in his life. He truly was a special person—she was just beginning to see how special. Not many men could do what he was doing.

Tuck stopped at a red light. There was something sensual about riding in a pickup at night with a man. A man she was attracted to. The cab smelled of coffee, leather and pure masculinity, which was reinforced by a pair of spurs dangling from the rearview mirror.

“I know there’s a story behind those spurs.”

“Pa gave them to me when I got my first horse. He said, ‘Son, I’m giving you these spurs, but a real man doesn’t need spurs. All he needs is a gentle hand and a kind heart.’ No way was I going to use those spurs after he told me that, so I hung them in my room. When I got my first truck, I hung them on the rearview mirror and that’s been their resting place ever since.” The light turned green and Tuck drove on.

“Why do you think he gave them to you then?”

“Because I’d been asking for them. I saw cowboys wearing them in some old movies that Pa used to watch. I wanted to be a cowboy, but I’m sure Pa was trying to teach me one of life’s many lessons—a gentle hand and kind heart wins every time.”

“That’s the way you are with Dillon.”

“The way I try to be with all the boys I mentor.”

“Dillon is sad he’ll never see you again.”

“I know, but I’ll call him often. He’ll adjust.”

“But you’ll miss him.”

“Yes, but that’s life.”

She licked her lips. “Like Brady?”

He drove into his carport. “Yeah, like Brady.” He turned off the ignition. “Want to come in for a while? I have Oreo cookies.”

She wanted to talk about Brady, but now her mind was on other things. “I never turn down an Oreo.”

Climbing out of the cab, they went into the house. Tuck flipped on lights as he went. Sam scurried from the den, sliding on the hardwood floor in his haste to reach them. Dee followed more slowly.

Sam whined at her feet.

“Will you stop that, you big baby,” Tuck scolded, opening a cabinet. Sam wagged his tail, evidently knowing what Tuck was doing. He opened a couple of boxes of flavored snacks and handed Sam and Dee a treat. They gobbled them up. “Now back to bed, guys. It’s late.”

As if understanding every word, Sam and Dee trotted to the big dog basket in the den and curled up inside it together.

“They sleep together?” Grace had to ask.

“When Dee’s in the house, they do. They don’t know they’re supposed to be enemies.”

“Oh.” Grace nodded. “Caroline took pictures of the two of them. I remember her showing them to me.”

“She gave me one. It’s in my bedroom.” He opened the refrigerator. “Now for the milk and an Oreo or two.”

She kicked off her sneakers and sat cross-legged in a chair, feeling relaxed and at home. The thought shocked her, but only for a moment.

Tuck brought the loot to the table. Removing his hat, he sailed it toward a wooden hat rack. It landed perfectly on a hook.

“Wow. I’m impressed. You’re so talented.”

He popped off the top of a plastic milk container. “Sometimes I make it and sometimes I don’t,” he said, pouring two glasses of milk. “It doesn’t take talent, just luck.”

Opening the bag of cookies, Grace asked, “Did you buy these especially for me?”

“Yep.” His dark eyes twinkled. “I sure did, ma’am. My Ma taught me good manners and to always feed a lady.”

She giggled as she twisted off the top of an Oreo. The sound was scintillating to Tuck’s ears. He’d never heard her laugh so carefree, so young at heart. Her tongue darted out to lick the sweet filling and he watched, captivated. If anyone had told him a month ago that Grace Whitten would be sitting in his kitchen eating cookies and milk and looking sexier than he’d ever seen her, he would’ve asked what they were drinking.

“It’s very quiet out here. No traffic noises,” she commented, dunking a cookie.

He dunked a cookie and took a bite. “Sometimes I’ll have a kid who has a real bad attitude, hates cops and life in general. I bring him out here and something about the outdoors, the peace and the serenity gets to him. It calms him down enough to see that I’m not a bad person.”

“Do you mentor a lot of boys?”

“I have Micah Somers, Pablo Martinez and Dillon. Micah’s twelve and lives with his mother’s mother. His dad beat his mom to death in front of him. He’s filled with a lot of resentment and sadness, rightly so. But he’s into sports and he’s really good at it, especially baseball. We go to a lot of sporting events. His grandmother worries about him so she likes to have a lawman around to keep him on the straight and narrow.” He took a swallow of milk.

“Pablo’s fourteen and also lives with his grandparents. His mother is in a Huntsville prison for killing his dad and his dad’s girlfriend. Pablo had a lot of anger and he just wanted to hurt somebody. I got him involved in wrestling and he’s now on a team in school. I just offer guidance, encouragement and steer him in the right direction.”

He ran his thumb over the rim of his glass. “I told the supervisor of Big Brothers that I wouldn’t be taking on any more boys because I was planning to adopt Brady. Since that’s fallen through, I guess I need to call her back.”

“Could we talk about that?”

His eyes met hers. “What about it?”

She took a deep breath. “Do you blame me for losing Brady?”

He shifted uneasily, bringing those raw emotions to the surface and admitting the truth to himself. “You had nothing to do with my losing Brady. I have a high-risk job and I’m single. That’s why I lost Brady.” He meant every word. At first, he’d been upset with her, but something about sitting on the floor in the hospital eating Oreo cookies enabled him to see Grace in a new way, as a woman who cared.

Grace moved restlessly in her chair, feeling a release that was hard to describe. “Have you ever thought of getting married?” The words slipped out of their own volition and she couldn’t snatch them back.

“A couple of times,” he answered, to her surprise.

“What happened?” She nibbled on a cookie, waiting with bated breath.

Tuck stared at the milk carton. “Our goals in life were different. The moment I mentioned taking in foster kids, the relationships changed.”

“So you decided to go it alone?”

“Yeah, but that’s not working too well.” He swallowed back the rest of his milk.

She sat up straighter and dived into treacherous waters. “Do you think you have this need to help children because you feel your parents would want you to? I know you love doing it,” she added hastily. “But I have to wonder why you’d give up having a life, having your own kids, to do so.”

She braced herself for a sharp retort, but he didn’t say anything for a moment, then he shook his head. “I don’t know, Grace. All I know is that I have to do it.” His eyes darkened. “I guess you had to have lived in this house and witnessed all the kids who came through here needing shelter, needing someone to care.”

“Have you ever thought of having kids of your own?” She was pressing her luck now, but he didn’t seem upset.

“Sure, when I was younger.” He picked up the milk container and carried it to the refrigerator. “And if I’m honest I’d have to admit that when I look at Jesse, I wonder how it would feel to look into the face of my own child. That’s a selfish male reaction. I know it would be the same as looking at Brady or Dillon.”

She carried the rest of the cookies to him. “Do you know that you’re a wonderful man?”

Putting the cookies in the pantry, he asked, “Care to back up those words, ma’am?”

She lifted an eyebrow. “How?”

“Dancing.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the den. The big-screen TV and stereo system were in a wall unit. Tuck poked buttons and a beautiful slow waltz wafted around the room. He moved the area rug back, flipped off the light and darkness surrounded her. The light from the kitchen streamed through, but otherwise they were enclosed in a world all their own.

In a corner, a grandfather clock chimed the midnight hour as the music played. “I think you have a thing about dancing,” she murmured, almost afraid to speak in case it broke the magical spell around her.

“I do,” he replied. “I love to dance.” His arms slipped around her and she wrapped hers around his neck, pressing her body into his. They moved slowly to the beat of the music and Grace shivered.

“You’re trembling,” he whispered against her hair.

“I think I’m a little afraid of what’s happening between us.” She hadn’t realized what she was feeling until she heard herself say the words.

“What’s happening?”

“I don’t know. Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of.”

They moved in unison to the music as close as two people could get with their clothes on. “Tell me what you’re feeling,” he said.

She took a deep breath. “I never want to leave your arms,” she admitted honestly, laying her head on his chest.

“And I don’t want you to,” he replied just as honestly.

“So what do we do?” she asked, pressing closer, needing to feel every inch of him.

“Let me kiss you one more time.”

She raised her head. “What…” The words were smothered beneath his lips. As he deepened the kiss, she gave herself up to him and the sensations he was awakening in her.

Finally, he broke the kiss and rested his face in the curve of her neck. “I say let’s take a chance and explore these new feelings. Let’s see where they’ll take us. Are you game?”

It wasn’t a declaration of love. She’d be lying to herself if she said she didn’t want to hear those words. She wanted a relationship with Tuck, though, and this is where it started. It was her decision.

“I’m game.”

He raised his head and ran his forefinger over her bottom lip. “Are you sure? You’ve been going through an emotional upheaval. We can…dance…later.”

She stepped back and threaded her fingers through her hair. “That’s not exactly the response I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“I expected you to rip off my clothes in eagerness.”

“Grace, I’m forty-two and I’ve never ripped off a woman’s clothes. I never needed to.”

She winced. “Sorry. Can you tell I’m new at this?”

“I think you’ve been watching too much television. Making love is about mutual need and gratification. It’s about respect, caring and…”

“Tuck, please make love to me.”

He held out his hand. “Come here. Let’s slow dance in the dark.”

She drifted back into his arms, not sure if her feet were touching the floor.

“Relax, Grace. Relax,” he breathed against her face, and she felt herself floating into a world of pure pleasure. The music played on, but all Grace heard was the wild beating of her heart in her ears, all she felt was his breath in her hair and his muscles imprinted against her body.

She trembled again and Tuck took her hand and led her to the bedroom. Moonlight streamed through the windows, the only light in the darkened room. He gave her a slow, lingering kiss and her knees almost buckled.

“After tonight, our relationship will change,” he whispered, his words thick.

“I know,” she said as she undid the buttons on his shirt.

Her hands splayed across his bared chest and desire filled him—along with disbelief. He wanted to sleep with the enemy. For years that’s how he’d thought of her, although lately he saw a desirable woman he couldn’t get out of his head—a woman soft, warm and pleasing. Things were happening too fast, though. He needed to stop. They had to talk.

Whenever he’d had doubts, he’d never had a problem stopping. Tonight he couldn’t. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone. Her lips touched his skin and all rational thought left him.

He slipped her T-shirt over her head, threw it on the floor and unsnapped her bra. He touched her breasts, stroking, caressing as they removed the rest of their clothes. He struggled with his boots. It only took a few seconds, but it wasn’t fast enough.

Skin on skin, they fell backward to the bed. She giggled and something akin to a laugh left his throat. He held her against his body, loving her soft, silky skin and his reaction to it. His body erupted with desire, need and unadulterated passion. He kissed her lips, her throat and her breasts, then trailed his lips down to the smoothness of her stomach. A moan escaped her as his tongue traveled farther.

Her hands eagerly sought the hardened muscles of his body. With fingers stroking and tongues tasting, they discovered new and exciting sensations.

When Tuck knew he had reached his limit, he reached for a condom in the nightstand and quickly sheathed himself. His hand shook with an eagerness he hadn’t felt in years.

She reached for him and as his lips met hers, he slid between her legs and into a vortex of pleasure he only thought he knew about. Her body welcomed him with a warmth and need that erased all thoughts.

As his body exploded into a spasm of pleasure inside her, he heard her sigh raggedly, “Oh, Jeremiah.”

Her body trembled and shuddered as they danced the dance as old as time.

There would never be a moment like this again—their first time.

He raised his head to look into her passion-filled eyes and caught his breath at the sheer beauty of her face. Kissing her swollen lips, he whispered, “You can call me Jeremiah any time you want.”

She smiled and her eyes sparkled like emeralds.

Grace touched his face, her fingers feeling the stubble on his jaw. She floated somewhere between reality and fantasy. They were both damn good. She never knew sex could be like this. It was a lot more than sex, though. To her, it was love and she wanted to say the words to him, but she knew he wasn’t ready.

She wondered if he ever would be.

She wouldn’t think about that tonight. She would just enjoy this wonderful man and the way he made her feel.

Like a desirable woman.

Pulling her into his arms, he reached for the comforter and covered them. Snug in his embrace she understood what giving herself to one man totally and completely was about. It was wonderful, fabulous and nothing she’d ever do again would match it.