“I can make myself not only useful, but indispensable,” he said as he ran his hands so lightly along her bare thighs, then sliding them to the insides of her legs.
She placed a paintbrush in his hand. “You go paint and stop with the seduction scene.”
“I thought I was doing pretty good.”
She leaned forward so her nose almost touched his. “You know you’re doing damn good, so you have to go or this house will never get painted,” she said.
“Suit yourself, darlin’. I’m ready, willing and able.”
“Ready, willing and able to pick up a brush and paint? Great. Go do it and I will, too. Goodbye, Tom.” She turned away and bent over to pick up the paint can and received a whistle of appreciation from him. She straightened up and spun around, but he was already going out the door. Smiling, she shook her head. It was all a lot of foolishness, but if she had taken him up on any of his offers they would be making love now, and that made her hot and tingly and wanting him back holding her close.
She dreaded going through the divorce. It would be another wrenching, painful loss, but it was inevitable. They had tried to stay married, but it didn’t work and just hurt more as time passed.
She got busy painting, a routine chore that left her thoughts free. And Tom filled them. Before Maverick’s email, she’d thought she was beginning to achieve some peace. She’d been adjusting to life without Tom, as well as the realization that he would be out of her life for good when they divorced. Life on the ranch, which she had loved in so many ways, would also be gone. But she was beginning to find a life for herself as a photographer. She had made the move from the ranch to Royal. Now she had been thrown a curveball when Tom came to stay with her. They were flirting, laughing together—something that didn’t happen after they lost Ryan. A week ago she wouldn’t have guessed that they could be this relaxed together again. Maybe it was because they had lost everything they’d once had between them. Now the worst had happened and she didn’t feel as tense. Maybe she had worried too much about disappointing Tom, and the fear was a self-fulfilling prophecy. It was fun to tease and flirt again. She missed what she’d once had with Tom.
Whatever the reasons, working with him on the house now reminded her of old times together when they could flirt and kiss and laugh. It was also going to hurt a lot more to tell him goodbye after being here together.
It was almost midnight when they settled in the rocking chairs on the porch. Tom had his cold beer and she had her raspberry tea and they sat quietly rocking.
“I remember when Uncle Woody would come out here and mow the lawn. He’d wave to anyone who passed and talk to neighbors who walked by.”
“Your uncle was a friendly man. I liked him. When you and I dated, sometimes he gave me a look and I wondered if he was going to tell me to get lost and leave you alone.”
“No. Uncle Woody liked you and thought you were good for me.”
“That’s nice to hear.”
“I’m glad he didn’t know about our divorce. I think losing Ryan is what—” She paused, because she hadn’t ever voiced aloud her theory about her uncle’s death. Tears threatened and she was grateful for the dark.
“Was what?” Tom asked and his voice had changed, deepened and become serious.
“I think he just died of a broken heart. He wasn’t well, but he wasn’t that ill. He had a heart problem, but when Ryan died, part of Uncle Woody died and there was never a time I saw him after that when he didn’t cry over Ryan. It broke his heart. So I lost them both.”
Tom sat in silence and she wondered what was going through his mind. She wiped her eyes, gradually regaining her composure.
“I’m going for a walk around the place. I have my phone if you want me,” he said tersely. Then he faded into the darkness.
* * *
Tom walked around the property, staying in shadows, moving without making noise and taking his time.
Emily’s revelation about her uncle’s death hurt. Tom had no doubt that Woody had blamed him for his failure to save Ryan. He felt equally certain Woody had blamed Tom for Emily’s unhappiness. He was just one more person who was important to Tom that he had failed.
He finally decided to rejoin Emily on the porch or just sit there alone if she had gone inside. But when he got back to the front of the house, she was still there. He climbed the steps to sit by her.
“You’re back. This is nice, Tom. I’ll miss us out here together when you go,” she said quietly.
“Maybe I’ll come visit and we can sit and talk. I like this, too. This is peaceful, and I can always hope I might get a kiss or two or get you to sit on my lap.”
“No,” she said, a note of sadness in her voice. “After our divorce, you’ll go out, fall in love and marry again. You’ll have a family, because that is what you were meant for. You’re wonderful with kids. You and I will go our separate ways and our marriage will just be memories that fade into oblivion.” She stood. “I’m going inside.”
He came to his feet swiftly and wrapped his arms around her to kiss her, a hard, possessive kiss that took only seconds before she responded.
When he slipped his hand beneath her shirt and caressed her, she moaned softly, holding him until she suddenly stepped away.
“I can’t go there. We’ll just hurt each other more. I’ve disappointed you in the past and I don’t see any future. Making love just binds us together for more heartache. I’m going in.” She swept past him and he let her go.
She didn’t want him in her life. He had failed her, disappointed her, hurt her. He needed to let her go and keep his distance and hope they caught Maverick soon. He couldn’t live under the same roof with her much longer without making love, and he had no doubt that he could get her to agree, but afterward, their relationship might be worse than ever because that wasn’t what Emily wanted. She wanted him out of her life. She was moving to Royal, taking up photography, finding a new life for herself, and he should do the same. He should find happiness with someone he hadn’t failed and hurt and disappointed.