Pure Temptation & Old Enough to Know Better: Pure Temptation / Old Enough To Know Better

He grinned back. “You could be right.”

“So, when?”

“Tomorrow night? Oh, wait. Damn. I promised to fly my mom up to an antique show in Flagstaff tomorrow. Dad’s going along, and he and I have appointments to look at some horses while we’re up there.”

She wrestled with her impatience. “How long will you be gone?”

“Three days. Until Sunday. Damn. I don’t think there’s any way I can get out of it, either. It’s been set up for months.”

“Three days sounds like an eternity.”

“Tell me about it.”

She traced the line of his jaw. “We could go back to my original plan and have you come back to my place tonight.”

He gazed at her for a long moment and finally shook his head. “No. I really want this time to be one you’ll remember.”

“I don’t think there’s much doubt about that, no matter when it happens. And to tell the truth, I’m…afraid you’ll change your mind in three days.”

“After tonight? Are you kidding?”

“You had a good time tonight?”

He cupped her face in both hands. “I had the best time I’ve ever had in my life. And I promise you I won’t change my mind.”

Her heart swelled with an emotion she couldn’t name, but it was strong, and it brought happy tears to her eyes. “Thank you, Mac. You’re a true friend.”

“I do my best.”

“What time of day will you be home on Sunday?”

“Probably around noon.”

“So you could come over that night.”

“I could do that.”

Her heart thudded in her chest. “Then I’ll expect you about eight.”

* * *

LEAVING TESS AT her door that night was the toughest thing Mac had done in a long time. He hadn’t told her, but he wouldn’t have had to drive clear back to the ranch for birth control. He’d made it a practice to know where he could buy condoms on short notice, and there was a convenience store still open only five minutes from her house.

He was probably a fool for not taking her up on her suggestion and making love to her all night long. The thought of doing that made him ache. Now he had to wait three days for the chance. No matter that he’d been waiting all his life.

Wait a minute. Waiting all his life? Where had that come from? It couldn’t be true. Surely Tess didn’t have anything to do with his fruitless search for a wife. He just hadn’t found the right woman yet. Oh, God. Maybe he had.

On impulse he swung into the Ore Cart Bar’s parking lot and climbed out of the truck.

Suddenly a cold beer and a game of darts sounded like an excellent idea. He was still a young carefree bachelor. Bachelors were free to stop in for a beer whenever they wanted to, and he cherished that freedom.

Maybe tonight he sort of wished he could go back over to Tess’s house instead of stopping for a beer, but that was only natural, considering how new the situation was. But the novelty would wear off with Tess, the way it had with all the rest.

That’s what you think, taunted a voice that sounded a lot like Tess when she was bound to prove herself right and him wrong. Over the years she’d infuriated him, made him laugh until he could barely stand, and worried him sick. But she’d never bored him. Mac walked into the bar, hoping a beer would silence that know-it-all voice that told him he’d started something that he had no idea how to finish.

The bar was fairly well deserted on this weeknight, but it had one patron that made Mac consider ducking back out the door. Unfortunately Dozer Blakely saw him before he got the chance.

“Hey, Big Mac!” he called from his bar stool. “Come on over and let me buy you a cold one.”

Mac walked toward the row of stools and glanced around. “Where’s Cindy?”

“At home.” Dozer shoved a wayward lock of red hair off his forehead with a beefy hand. “Waitin’ for me to cool off. Hey, Dutch, set the man up with his favorite brand, okay?”

“Will do,” the bald bartender said. “How’re you doing, Mac?”

“Can’t complain.” Mac sat down next to Dozer, but he would have liked to put more space between them. He could still smell Tess’s perfume on his clothes, and he was afraid Dozer might recognize it. “Listen, should you be fighting with Cindy, her being P.G. and all?”

Dozer smiled. “When we fight, I’m the only one who gets upset. Cindy’s cool as a cucumber.” His blue eyes twinkled. “Hot date tonight?”

This would be tricky, Mac decided. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, you look a little mussed up. I figured you might have been out parking.”

“Could be.”

Dozer smiled and took a sip of beer. “So, did you take that dunking last night to heart and decide to make up with Jenny?”

“Uh, no.” Mac grabbed the beer Dutch scooted in front of him and took a big swallow.

“Babs?”

“Nope.”

“Somebody new?”

“You could say that.”

“But you’re not talking, are you, Big Mac?”

Mac grabbed the opening. “No, Dozer, I’m not. I don’t want you guys riding herd on me with this one, pestering me as to when we’re going to tie the knot.” He glanced at the hefty redhead and decided to go on the offensive. “And speaking of the knot, you’re a sorry poster boy for the institution of marriage, sitting down here at the Ore Cart nursing a beer while your wife sits at home.”

“I’m only doing what she told me.” Dozer shook his head. “She’s something else. I fly off the handle, just itching for a fight, and she won’t fight. She tells me to go grab a beer and come back when I have something nice to say. In the meantime, she works on her cross-stitch, calm as you please.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I usually sneak back and peek in the window to see if she’s pacing the floor or banging things around, at least. You know, upset because I left the house. The hell of it is, she’s not. So I come down here, drink my beer, and go home. She takes me back like nothing happened, and that’s the end of that.”

“What was the fight about? Or I should say, the fight she refused to have with you.”