nodded at him. “All right.”
He tipped his hat to her.
“I’m very curious to see how you do this,” she said.
“Do what?”
“Leave. Since I have no idea how you got in.”
“Oh.” He grinned. “Okay.”
He unlocked her door, opened it and left.
She jumped off the bed and jerked the door open, pulling him back inside.
“A simple ‘please stay’ is sufficient,” Tex said.
“You can’t let anyone see you!” Cissy said. Then she paused. “Do you want to? Stay?”
“Do dogs have ears?” he demanded.
She locked the door behind him. “I noticed that you were attracted to me, but I felt that was probably your standard reaction to any female in a bathrobe.”
“Very likely,” he agreed, not missing the chance, while they were close, to smell her. Honeysuckle.
“You don’t smell like a bad girl.”
Her eyes widened. “Strange. You smell like a bad boy.”
“And how is that?”
She sniffed him as they stood against the door. “Leather. Aftershave. A beer or two. And…something I can’t quite name.”
Leaning close, she smelled his neck. Her hair feathered against his collarbone and under his chin, and his erection returned full force.
“Sex?” she asked, her eyes wide.
“Don’t mind if I do,” he replied, sweeping her playfully into his arms.
“No,” she said, pushing against his chest until she freed herself. “I think you smell sexy. Maybe manly is the word I’m searching for.”
“I hope that’s a good thing,” he said, taking her hand and kissing it. “If not, we could take a shower together.”
She wrinkled her nose and pulled her hand away.
“I don’t think so. Something tells me water conservation with you would be detrimental to my health.”
For the moment, he forbore further wisecracking, since he was definitely experiencing resistance from her. He decided not to take it personally, considering they were two birds of a feather, and he felt like resisting her, too. “Okay, if I can’t leave the way I came in, how do you expect me to go?”
“I don’t know.” She watched him as he snagged the cake box and sat on her bed. “What are you doing?”
“Eating your un-wedding cake.” He lifted the lid and pulled out a hunting knife from his jacket pocket.
She gasped. He glanced up.
“Overkill, I know. But would you rather I use my fingers?” He cut a neat slice from the cake.
A second later, she joined him on the bed. “You might as well cut me a piece, too. It doesn’t look as if you’re leaving anytime soon.”
“Oh, I’m leaving, all right. I just need a sugar boost before I jump out your window. I’m not a superhero, you know.”
He felt her stare at him in amazement, and he decided he liked having her attention on him like that.
“Can you jump out a second-story window in your condition?” she asked.
He hesitated in the act of handing her a slice of cake. “What condition? I’m in prime physical shape.”
“Well—” She gestured toward his crotch, which was still distended from their close call by the door. When she’d drawn near to smell him, he’d definitely felt the impact.
“Oh, that,” he said nonchalantly. “Don’t you worry about that. Sugar boost’ll take care of that in a flash.”
“Really?”
“Sure.” He bit into the cake. “Eat your un-wedding cake.”
“What is un-wedding cake, anyway?”
“Well, if you learned today that you’re no longer married, I suppose that’s what this should be. We can be sad if you want to be, though,” he offered hastily.
“Oh, no. Please. I wouldn’t think of it.” She tasted her cake, too. “I’m just glad to know that he was finally found. I wouldn’t have felt right remarrying if I’d never learned what happened to him. I have no idea what the marital expiration date is on husbands who disappear. It could be a decade, for all I know.”
“Hey, this is un-wedding cake. Do not sleep with this under your pillow and try to dream of your future husband. Old wives’ tales don’t really work,” he said sternly.
“I’ll probably never get married again, anyway,” she said, finishing off her cake. “I’ve got too many kids to care for.”
“And that’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he said, cutting another piece for himself. “How many children do you have? Because I found a picture of you in Hannah’s room, and I think I counted nine. Nine!” He looked at her, his heart in his throat. “Those weren’t your responsibilities, were they?”
She looked at him for a long time, and he didn’t like the depth of her gaze. It told him all he needed to know, and he didn’t need the lie of a sugar boost to ease the strain in his jeans. His pants started fitting better instantly.
“They’re all mine—nephews and nieces,” she said. “There are ten of us. If one doesn’t count Gran. And then there are my missing three siblings, which, if and when they ever come back into the picture, will make fourteen.”
“You support fourteen people.”
“Well, my brother and sisters are missionaries. They’re gone a lot, and they don’t make much. Gran used to be able to work, but now that she’s older, she gets tired more easily.”
“Taking care of nine kids would tire me out.”
“Yes, but we didn’t expect my family to be gone so long. They left for a weekend to take coats and blankets to a sister church in South America.”
To his dismay, her eyes filled with the first tears he’d ever seen her cry. “Wait, wait,” he said. “Don’t do that. They’ll be back, I’m sure.”
“I’m not so certain anymore.” She got up to wash her hands and dry her eyes at the washstand sink in her room. “We haven’t heard from them in almost three years. The government won’t tell us anything. And needless to say, Gran and I do not have enough money to hire an investigator.”
And then he saw her shoulders shaking. Oh, boy. Putting the cake back into the box, he moved it back to the dresser.
