Beneath the Stetson(38)

“I understand,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “But I don’t have to like it.”

Bailey stroked her thumb across his bottom lip, her fingertips cool against his skin. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

He backed away from her, reminding himself that he was a grown man capable of delayed gratification. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said gruffly.

* * *

Fortunately for Gil, he was a busy man with many responsibilities. Even so, the subsequent week and a half dragged by with agonizing slowness. He and Bailey talked on the phone every day. Often more than once. But it was a poor substitute for having her in his bed...for feeling her naked body pressed against his. Somehow, without him even noticing, Bailey had become indispensable to his happiness. Without her, the days seemed dull, even with the presence of his precious son.

It didn’t help that Cade asked about her constantly. The boy was single-minded in his determination to see her again. Gil made vague promises, but in truth, he had no idea when Bailey would be back under his roof.

On day eleven, he took matters into his own hands. Tracking her down took most of the morning. He finally found her vehicle parked at the courthouse...and waited with admirable patience for her to exit the building. When she saw him, her expression changed, but he couldn’t pinpoint the mix of emotions that danced across her face.

Walking to meet her when she descended the steps, he slung an arm around her shoulders and steered her in the direction of his truck. He had parked in an adjacent alley, taking advantage of the shade from a large building, a spot that had the added benefit of giving them a modicum of privacy. “When was the last time you had a day off?”

“That’s your best pickup line?” she quipped, smiling at him with joy in her eyes.

“Answer the question.” He hadn’t known for sure that she would be glad to see him. Witnessing her pleasure erased some of the misery of the past ten days.

Bailey toyed with the buttons on his shirt, her fingers warming his skin through the fabric. “I don’t remember.”

“That’s what I thought. You need a break. I know for a fact that you’ve been working dawn to dusk.”

“And what would I do with this free day?” She glanced at her watch. “Now that it’s almost lunchtime?”

Gil was getting desperate. Making love to Bailey...repeatedly...had not slaked his hunger for her at all. If anything, he wanted her more, because now he knew what it was like to have her in his bed. The memories made him sweat. Not to mention the fact that he was, at the moment, hard and hurting.

Bailey made no effort to move. Obviously she was aware that his erection nudged eagerly at her lower abdomen. He shuddered, dangerously close to ripping open the door of the truck and shoving her on the front seat.

He cleared his throat. “Cade spent the night with my friends again. I have to pick him up. In Midland. At four.” He was barely able to string words together. “Come with me.”

Her head shake was instantaneous. “Your parental instincts were good...thinking you needed to protect your son. I don’t want to do anything to hurt him.”

“I was wrong. I’ll be honest with him.”

“And say what?”

“That I like you. A lot. And I like spending time with you. But that your job and your home are in Dallas.”

“What are we doing here, Gil?”

In her eyes he saw a mixture of resignation and sadness. Both emotions hit him hard, because he was responsible for putting them there. He stroked her hair from her face, cupping her cheek in his right hand. “Let’s not analyze it, Bailey. I’m a man. You’re a woman. Let’s take a drive on a beautiful sunny afternoon and worry about tomorrow later.”

“That’s a dangerously open-ended philosophy for a man like you. Or a woman like me, for that matter.”

He made himself step backward. “I won’t coerce you. But I hope you’ll say yes.”

She waited long enough for his gut to tighten. Finally, she nodded. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt. But again, we both have a vehicle.”

He groaned. “I’ll pick you up at Chance’s place in forty-five minutes. Change into something that will be comfortable for a picnic.” The day was not as hot as it had been earlier in the week, but still wonderfully pleasant for January.

“Who supplies the food?”

“My invitation, my responsibility.”

She went up on tiptoes and kissed him square on the mouth, ducking away before he could grab her. “There’s that nasty word again...responsibility.”

Gil swiped the back of his hand across his forehead. Bailey’s kisses, even quick ones, were lethal. “Believe me, Bailey. Taking care of you and your needs is pure pleasure.”