Part 16 (1/2)

Can you?” ”No.” She turned the light back up. Was his s.h.i.+rt unb.u.t.toned? Were his jeans undone? He took another drink and she knew it was beer. She could hear him sucking on the bottle, slaking his thirst as quickly as possible. ”I was packing,” she said finally. ”Oh. Is your cold better?” ”Yes, it's completely gone.” ”How's our baby?” ”Fine. I think my tummy's getting bigger.” And so were her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Already they were sore, her nipples hard and achy. ”I can't wait until you get here. I want to see you, Julianne.” ”I want to see you, too.” She pictured him dark and handsome, looking the way she remembered him, with his hair plaited into a single braid. ”Is it warm there?” he asked. ”Yes.” Suddenly her pulse pounded again. Everywhere. At her wrists, against the side of her neck, between her legs. ”It's sort of hot and sticky.” ”Here, too,” he said.

Julianne closed her eyes and Bobby drank his beer again. She could hear him swallowing, tasting the liquid, letting it slide down his throat. Aroused, she held the phone closer to her ear and then imagined rubbing it against her pulse, against the pounding between her legs.

She wanted Bobby there, hard and thick. Hot and sticky.

”Julianne?”

”Yes?”

”I want you to come.”

She opened her eyes, nearly lost her breath. ”Come?”

”ToTexas. Soon.”

She loosened her grip on the phone, smiled a little. He knew exactly how to play this game. ”You're an

evil man, Bobby Elk.”

He had the gall to groan. ”I didn't say that on purpose.”

”Yes, you did.” And she adored him for it. He'd broken the tension for both of them. ”I think we

should hang up and pretend this never happened.”

”So your hormones are okay now?”

”Yes.”

”Are you sure? Because if you want to mess around some more, we could have cyber s.e.x.” He lowered

his voice. ”You have an e-mail address, don't you?”

Oh, she thought, glancing at her computer. It was tempting.

”Good night, Bobby.”

”'Night, pretty mommy. You sleep tight.”

”I will.” She ended the call, anxious to return toTexasand be friends with the father of her baby.

Warm, tender, flirtatious friends.

* * * On the day Julianne arrived inTexas, her heart wouldn't quit pounding. Bobby had picked her up at the airport, and now they drove back to the ranch, nearing their destination. Her new home. Bobby glanced her way,then turned back to the road. ”You look good, Julianne.”

”Thank you. So do you.” Better than good. He wasn't wearing a hat and she was graced with an un.o.bstructed view of his profile the tiny lines near his eyes, the distinguished gray at his temples.

She hadn't forgotten how handsome he was, but seeing him again in the flesh made her want to touch him.

Which, she knew, wouldn't be a smart thing to do.Not now. Not this soon.

Maybe later today she could hold his hand or give him a platonic hug. Later, when her heart quit pounding.

They'd greeted each other at the airport with genuine smiles, but they hadn't embraced. And now she wondered if Bobby was nervous, too.

He turned onto a long, country road that led to Elk Ridge. Trees lined the path and shrubs bloomed with color. The hills, the power of the Texas Hill Country, rose in the distance.

”It's so pretty here,” she said.

He nodded. ”I used to camp in hills all the time. Sleep beneath the stars.”

”Used to?”

He shrugged. ”I still do, just not as often.”

Because it required more effort, she realized. The loss of his leg had taken some of the ease from his life, some of the simplicity.

”I've never been camping,” she said.

Bobby shot her a surprised look. ”Never?”

”Nope.”

”Not once in forty years?”

She laughed. ”No. And thank you for reminding me how old I am.”

He laughed, too. ”Hey, I'm in my forties, too. Remember?”

Because she got a sudden urge to stroke the gray in his hair, she folded her hands on her lap. ”It's easier for men. They age better.”

”Says who?”

”Everyone. It's a known fact.”

”That's a load of c.r.a.p.” He braked at a stop sign and waited for a flatbed pickup, transporting bales of hay, to pa.s.s. ”Men and women age the same. And in my culture, we honor our elders. There's nothing shameful about growing old.”

Tell that to the media, she thought. To the advertising moguls who promoted youth and beauty. ”You didn't like turning forty. At least that's what you told me before.”