Conflicted

  “Some take longer than others,” he said. “But she’s looking good. God willing, they’ll both be fine.”

  Suddenly M.C. gave a great push—Desiree could feel her body straining right along with the horse’s—and Jesse shouted jubilantly. “Here he comes!”

  Within minutes it was done, and Desiree watched the new colt struggle to his feet with tears in her eyes. He wobbled to his mother on unsteady legs, and M.C. nuzzled him, wrapping her body around him as she began to clean him.

  “He’s beautiful,” she whispered, watching the new mother and her baby.

  “Isn’t he, though?” Jesse was at the big sink, washing up. “But I wouldn’t expect anything less with his pedigree.”

  “No kidding. Talk about a champion in training.”

  Jesse turned to her as he dried his arms and hands. “Are you ready to head up to the house? Give Mama and her baby a little privacy?” His voice was stilted, and she could tell that it had taken a lot for him to extend such an olive branch.

  “Absolutely,” she answered, laying a soft hand on his back. “Just let me run by my office and get a folder I want to work on in the morning.”

  “All right.”

  She was conscious of Jesse’s eyes on her as she jogged to her office. She was moving as quickly as she could without flat-out running, afraid that if she didn’t hustle Jesse would get tired of waiting and head home without her. And she didn’t want this fragile peace between them to end, couldn’t bear for him to go back to looking at her with contempt.

  Grabbing the file, Desiree started to head to the maternity barn but stopped when she saw Jesse leaning against a tree, a few feet away from where she stood. Tears sprang to her eyes and she impatiently wiped them away. She’d cried more in the past day than she had in the past thirty years, and she was beginning to feel as though she’d sprung a leak.

  “Did I take too long?” she asked as she approached him.

  “No.” He shrugged. “I was done and figured it was just as easy to meet you here.”

  She nodded, smiling shyly at her husband of twenty-seven years. “Thanks for waiting.”

  They began to walk slowly up to the house, not deliberately touching but so close that their shoulders occasionally brushed. Heat shot through her with every touch and she wanted to reach for his hand, wanted to hold him to her and beg him to reconsider. She’d made so many plans for the future for the ranch and for their marriage.

  “Jesse—” Her voice broke despite her best intentions. She wanted to start again but suddenly lost her nerve.

  He looked at her inquisitively, but she couldn’t speak around the sudden lump in her throat. While the silence continued, stretched between them with the weight of things unsaid, he reached into his jacket pocket and handed her a book. “Willow asked me to return this to you. She was afraid it would get lost in the confusion.”

  Desiree’s gaze met his in the dim light. Had he read her journal? A combination of dread and excitement curled in her stomach. If he had read it, then she’d have nothing left—no pride, no privacy, nothing at all to hide behind.

  But at least he would know how much she loved him. Her eyes searched his, wanting to know. Needing to know. But he was giving nothing away.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, tightly clasping the book in her suddenly nerveless hands.

  “No problem.” He opened the front door, gestured for her to precede him. They lingered in the foyer for a few long moments. Desiree knew her feelings were in her eyes, prayed that Jesse cared enough to read them there. He didn’t say anything, simply turned away and headed for the stairs.

  “I’m beat. Can we talk in the morning?” he asked.

  “Talk?” she asked hesitantly.

  “About the conditions of the divorce?”

  Desiree’s already fragmented heart shattered. She actually felt it break. But if pride was all she had left, she’d be damned if she’d let him see how much he could still hurt her. “Of course. I’m just going to drop this off and then I’m heading up, as well.”

  “Good night.” Jesse’s voice sounded hoarse, but she was too distraught to care.

  “Yeah.” Her lips curved wryly. “Good night.”

  The pain was sharp, unbearable. After all these years, was this really how things were going to end? With a silence that couldn’t be broken?

  No. Hell, no. If this was the last chance she had to fight for her marriage, then she would fight for it. To hell with her pride. Dropping the files on the table in the middle of the foyer, she headed up the stairs after her husband.

  The sound of water running through the old pipes gave testimony to the fact that he was still as awake as she was.

  With a sigh, she turned left, knowing that she could be letting herself in for even more heartbreak. But the fighter in her refused to let her marriage slip quietly away. She knocked on his door softly, not wanting to wake up the rest of the house. She grimaced. More like she didn’t want to be humiliated in front of her children and Maria.

  When he didn’t answer and the water continued to run, she slowly turned the doorknob, relieved to find it unlocked. She called his name as she entered the room, but there was no answer. Despite her best intentions, her eyes went to the steam-filled bathroom.

  She knew she should leave. She could talk to him in the morning after they’d both had a chance to get some sleep. But the huge distance between them had been bridged in the walk home from the stable tonight—at least for a little while—and she was reluctant to let it go.

  She was one step away from settling herself on the bed to wait for him when her wicked streak raised its curious head. What would Jesse do if she slipped into the shower with him? Would he toss her out or welcome her as he had so many times? There was only one way to find out and, while her pride smarted at the idea of being rejected again, once the idea was planted there was no way she could ignore it.

  Shimmying out of her clothes as quickly as possible—he had been in the shower for a while—she headed toward the bathroom. Toward Jesse. With a deep breath for courage, she slipped into the shower and let her hungry eyes wander over Jesse’s strong body.

  He was still beautiful to her. Decades of working with horses had honed his body into a well-oiled machine. The well-defined muscles of his back rippled with his every movement. She trailed a finger over his collarbone, down his chest, skimming across his flat stomach before drifting lower. She watched his body react to her touch, watched him grow hard under her fascinated gaze.

  He grabbed her hand inches before she reached her goal.

  Her gaze darted to his, and for a moment she was caught in their tortured midnight depths. His breathing was ragged, his body as fully aroused as her own. She knew how to inflame him, how to drive him beyond the rigid control he was so painfully exerting. But she had come this far—the next move was his. And so she waited, chest heaving, body tingling, for him to make a decision.

  He stared into her eyes for long moments, his indecision plain to see. She was painfully aware of her nakedness and with every second that passed, her discomfort grew until she was shaking under the weight of her regrets. She’d made a horrible mistake in thinking that Jesse felt the same way. He didn’t need her the way she needed him. He really was over her, despite the chemistry that still existed between them.

  She started to apologize but there was nothing left to say. It really was too little, too late.

  She lowered her head and turned to leave, regret and exhaustion dragging at her. Then he moved, one hand tugging her against him while his other hand thrust into her hair and pulled her head back for his kiss. He was starving, ravenous, completely out of control as his mouth ravished hers. He parted her lips without waiting for an invitation, his tongue sliding over and around hers. Tasting, testing, rediscovering all of her secrets.

  And she let him, pressing herself against him, opening herself to him completely. This is what she’d craved for so long, what she’d needed all those lonely nights when
she’d lain in bed waiting in vain for him to come to her. The passion, the connection, the sense of rightness that came only with being in his arms.

  “I need you, Desiree,” he muttered, his lips skimming over her cheek, down to the hollow of her throat, then lower. He cupped her breasts in his hands, bent his head and took a nipple into his mouth.

  Desiree moaned, her hands clasping his head and locking him to her as she arched her back and offered herself to him. “I need you, too.”

  His tongue circled the hard bud again and again before he began to suckle her in a rhythm guaranteed to drive her completely out of her mind. “Please,” she cried, her lower body moving restlessly against his.

  He lifted his head for a moment, his grin darkly wicked as he surveyed her wild eyes and quivering body. “Please what?” he demanded, leaning forward and licking the hollow of her throat, his tongue stroking in rhythm to her pounding heart.

  Desiree’s knees buckled and she grabbed on to Jesse to keep from falling. “No more,” she gasped, her hands clutching his shoulders tightly. “I need you inside me. Now.”

  He dropped to his knees in front of her, softly parting her silky folds. Before she could prepare herself, he’d leaned forward and thrust his tongue into her.

  She screamed, her knees turning to jelly instantly. She would have fallen without the support of the wall behind her and Jesse’s lithe strength in front of her. He held her pinned to the wall as he devoured her, his tongue stroking her from the inside out. Sensations bombarded her one after another—the cold tile behind her, Jesse’s hot mouth on and inside her, the steaming water streaming over her. It was too much and she came, screaming Jesse’s name as tears poured down her cheeks.

  “I can’t wait any longer,” he muttered as he stood, lifting and pressing her against the wall in one smooth move.

  “Wrap your legs around me,” he ordered, and she complied, still desperate for him despite the mind-blowing release he had given her. His mouth captured hers and she tasted herself on his lips as need arrowed violently through her.

  Jesse reached down, cupped her bottom in his huge, hot hands. “Now,” he gasped, burying himself inside her with one powerful thrust.

  She closed her eyes, completely overwhelmed with the sense of joy and rightness that came with having him inside of her after so long an absence. She wanted to stay like this forever, wrapped around him with no intention of ever letting go.

  Then he moved, thrusting powerfully into her, and everything scattered, fading away until her entire reality was centered on Jesse and the incredible pleasure he was giving her. She moaned, her head thrashing restlessly against the shower wall as she met him thrust for thrust.

  “Jesse, please—” she gasped, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him as close as she possibly could. “I can’t take any more. I can’t—”

  He took her lips in a kiss designed to send her straight over the edge. At the same time, he slipped a hand between them and stroked her, once, twice. She exploded on the third pass of his thumb, her body arching against his as a violent release swept through her.

  Jesse rode her through it, his body moving faster and faster against hers until, with a groan, he flooded her. His release went on and on, long and powerful.

  Desiree watched Jesse return to himself, could tell the exact moment that everything came roaring back. The gleam in his eyes disappeared, as did the grin curving his mouth. With a grimace, he settled her feet back on the shower floor before turning away.

  “Don’t,” she whispered as he reached for the soap.

  “Don’t what?” he asked remotely, as he lathered up a washcloth and began running it briskly over his body.

  “Don’t turn away from me. Not now, not yet.”

  His sigh was heavy as he stepped aside to let her take a turn under the cascading water. “We keep doing this.”

  “Doing what?” She stared at him, confused.

  “Using sex to gloss over our problems. We’ve been doing it for years, Desiree, and it’s held our marriage together despite our differences.”

  “Is that so bad?” She reached a tentative hand out to him, shocked when he actually let her touch him.

  “It is when nothing gets solved. We’re right back where we’ve been so many times before.”

  “It doesn’t have to be like that.”

  “Doesn’t it?” He sounded more tired than she had ever heard him. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

  “I want to know how to fix this.” She shut off the water then turned to face him, terror coursing through her as she laid everything on the line. “I want you to stay with me.”

  “It’s a little late for this discussion, isn’t it?” He handed her a towel before wrapping a second one around his waist and stepping out of the shower. “Months too late.”

  “I haven’t signed the papers yet.” She followed him into the bedroom, her pride gone as she all but pleaded with him. “And I won’t until we have a chance to talk about this.”

  “What’s there to talk about? We’re on two different paths going in two different directions.”

  “That’s not true.” She wouldn’t let it be true.

  “Give me a break. We’re so out of touch with each other that you didn’t even know I was thinking about a divorce.”

  “That’s because you never said anything about it.” Her voice rose despite her best intentions. “You never even mentioned it to me until after you’d given me the papers.”

  “I thought moving out of our bedroom was a pretty good indicator that I wasn’t happy.”

  “Why did you do that?”

  He stared at her in disbelief. “You’re asking me that now?”

  “Yes.”

  “What does it matter? It’s too late.”

  “It matters to me.” Her voice was steady, her eyes calm. “It’s always mattered to me.”

  “Which is why you never so much as mentioned it before today, right? Because it mattered so much to you?”

  She took a deep breath, bit the proverbial bullet. “I was too scared to ask you before.”

  “Scared?” he demanded. “Of what?”

  “Of finding out how badly I’d failed you. Of hearing you list all the reasons you don’t love me anymore.” She didn’t try to hide her pain from him. There’d already been too much hiding. If he left her tomorrow, he would do so knowing how much she still loved him.

  “It’s never been about whether or not I loved you, Desiree.”

  “Then what was it about? What made you move out of our room? What made you file for divorce just when I’d begun to realize my mistakes and try to fix them?”

  “What exactly have you been trying to fix?”

  She stiffened at his tone. “A hell of a lot, but I guess you’ve been too busy to notice.”

  Jesse reached for a pair of boxers and a T-shirt, shaking his head as he did so. “That’s the best you’ve got, huh?”

  “How is it that you can make me angrier than any other person on earth?”

  “I don’t know. But I think that’s a pretty good sign that we aren’t meant to be together.”

  “Don’t say that.” She clutched at him but he pulled away.

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “I—”

  “What, Desiree? Tell me what you want me to do, because I can’t live like this anymore.”

  “I want you to love me.” The words broke the dam on the emotions she’d held inside for so long. “I want you to let me love you, to let me make the past few years up to you.

  “I want a second chance, or a third or a fourth chance. Whatever chance I’m up to by now, I want it. I want to focus on you for a change, on us, instead of on this stupid ranch. I want to go on a second honeymoon, where we can talk and lie on the beach and make love all day if that’s what we want to do.

  “I want to get to know you again. I want you to get to know me. I want you to look at me and see your wife again. I want to prove to you th
at I’ve changed, prove that you mean more to me than anything ever has. I want you to hold me like you used to, to kiss me and hug me and tell me that everything’s going to be all right. Even if it isn’t. Especially if it isn’t. I want you to love me and I’m scared, so scared, that you’ll never be able to again.”

  * * *

  JESSE FELT HIS MOUTH FALL open but couldn’t close it for the life of him. He hadn’t seen Desiree this way since her mother died—hysterical, incoherent, completely devastated as she poured her heart out to him.

  He crossed to her before he could remind himself what a damn fool he was to fall into this trap again. “Stop, darlin’.” He crooned the words as he pulled her into his arms, her body flush against his. “Please, stop. You’ll make yourself sick.”

  Her shoulders continued to shake, her body shuddering with her grief. “I hired a new trainer so that you could have more time to spend on your line. You’d always be in charge but I thought Tom could take over some of the less important stuff that you do so that you could concentrate on Cherokee Dreaming. I know it’s your dream just as I know you’ve put it on hold over and over again through the years for the Triple H, for me.”

  He stiffened against her, but she was too caught up in her words and her misery to notice. “I hired someone to help Bob out, thought that maybe I could put some of my responsibilities on him so that we could spend more time together. I had papers drawn up making you a partner in the ranch. Fifty-fifty.”

  “Desiree, stop it.” His voice was low and shaky as shock after shock reverberated through him.

  “No. I won’t stop. I’ve held this inside for a long time and I’m sick of it. Sick of hiding behind my pride and pretending that your disinterest isn’t killing me.” She reached up, her hands tangling in his hair as she looked him in the eye. “I know what you’ve done for me, what you’ve done for this ranch. Don’t think for one second that I don’t know where we’d be if Big John hadn’t hired you, if you hadn’t stayed on after we got married, though you didn’t want to. Without you we’d be a hell of a lot less than what we are. I’d be a hell of a lot less.”