Texas Guardian, page 21
Darcy appeared to be running out of patience, as well. She stepped fully into the bathroom and used her foot to nudge the door closed. Even though there was no one else in the house, the added privacy gave him a little thrill, as if they were going to do something naughty.
Ridge swallowed hard as she moved forward. His self-control was fighting a losing battle and the closer Darcy got, the harder it was to stay seated in the tub and resist the temptation to grab her and pull her in there with him.
Darcy stopped at the edge of the tub and stared down at him, running her gaze from the tips of his toes to the top of his head and everywhere in between. Ridge forced himself to remain still, letting her look her fill. It would be his turn soon.
Her dark brown eyes warmed, reminding him of pools of melted chocolate. The steam from the bath made the tendrils of hair around her face stick to her cheeks and neck, and her skin glistened. She looked like a woman who had been well pleasured, which served only to arouse him further.
At last, she met his gaze. “You’re bigger than I remember,” she said, then blushed prettily, sending the remaining blood in his body straight to his groin.
“That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” he drawled, earning a laugh from Darcy.
“You know what I mean,” she said, gesturing to her own frame. “You’re taller, and your shoulders got bigger.”
“Is that all?” he asked suggestively.
She bit her bottom lip. “I’ll have to let you know.”
His mouth went dry and he could only nod.
“So...” Darcy trailed off, eyeing him up and down once more. Her mouth curved up and her eyes sparkled. “Want me to wash your back?”
It was quite possibly the sexiest invitation he’d ever heard, and for a split second, Ridge lost the ability to speak as his brain imploded.
He grinned at her and spread his arms wide. “I thought you’d never ask.”
* * *
Darcy couldn’t take his eyes off Ridge.
He was truly a sight to behold, the lines and angles of his body stretched out in a glorious display. The water rippled as he moved, blurring and softening his edges but doing nothing to diminish his size.
She fingered the buttons of his shirt, knowing she needed to take it off. But something held her back. She knew as soon as she joined him in that tub, it was all over—his desire for her was plain to see. And she wasn’t quite finished looking at him yet. It had been so long since she’d seen him. She’d forgotten how nice it was to simply watch him. He was a large man, but his movements were so graceful, so controlled. The promise of power held in check.
Would she ever tire of the sight of him?
Ridge held out the bar of soap, a sexy smile on his face. “Change your mind?” His tone was light, but she saw the hint of vulnerability in his eyes. It always shocked her to realize that no matter how confident and tough he appeared, Ridge was a sensitive soul. More than that, though, Darcy was touched that he was giving her an opportunity to back out, despite having come this far.
“Not on your life,” she said. “I’m just trying to figure out how I’m going to climb into this thing without falling. It’s huge!”
Ridge’s eyes were full of laughter as he looked up at her. “That’s what every man wants to hear.”
She groaned and shook her head. “When did your sense of humor become so juvenile?”
He cocked his head to the side, apparently considering the question. “When was it not?”
“Good point.”
“Come on in, Darcy,” he coaxed. “The water’s just fine.” His expression turned serious, those dark eyes drawing her in. “And you know I won’t let you fall.”
She shivered at the promise, recognizing the truth of his words on a bone-deep level. In a split second, they had gone from flirting to serious, and they both recognized his statement went beyond helping her into the bath.
“I’m ready.” And it was the truth, on so many levels. She was ready to let go of the hurts and disappointments of the past, ready to start a new life here in Granite Gulch. Ready to make her dreams of family a reality with Ridge by her side.
She unbuttoned the shirt in record time, letting it fall to the floor in a puddle of fabric. Then she took his hand and stepped into the tub, lowering herself into the warm embrace of the water and Ridge’s arms.
He leaned back, taking her with him so she rested with her back against his chest. His arms circled around her torso, locking her into place as he let out a deep sigh.
Darcy relaxed, her muscles turning liquid in his embrace. As they sat there together, she lost track of where her body ended and his began, feeling as if they had melted into one.
She felt him pressed hard against her lower back, but he made no move to change their position. After a moment, she sighed. “I thought I was supposed to help you get clean.”
His answering chuckle vibrated from his chest into her back. “We’ve got nothing but time.”
“Not too long, though, or the water will get cold.”
“True.” He sounded thoughtful. “Guess we should get started then.” Without sitting up, he took the bar of soap and lathered his hands. Then he spread them across her stomach and began to move, sudsing her skin with every pass across her body.
Her breath caught in her throat as he moved up her stomach to graze the undersides of her breasts. He traced lazy circles on her skin, sending zings of sensation through her limbs that made her shiver.
She arched her back, seeking more contact. His frictionless touch ignited a firestorm of need within her, but did little to satisfy her desire. She needed more, and her body moved restlessly against him, instinctively searching for the satisfaction only he could provide.
Ridge spread his palms on her torso, effectively anchoring her in place. “Patience,” he whispered, his breath hot in her ear. “Just feel.”
“I need...” She trailed off, unable to put her feelings into words. But that didn’t seem to matter.
“I know,” Ridge soothed. “Soon.”
Darcy let go, surrendering herself to his embrace. His hands swept over her, his touch everywhere, overwhelming her senses. It was the best kind of torture, and she wished it would never end.
Time lost all meaning as they explored, getting reacquainted with each other’s bodies. Darcy had the strangest sense of déjà vu—Ridge’s body was so familiar, and yet it was as though she was touching him for the first time, relearning the planes and lines of his body with each pass of her hand.
She didn’t know how long they stayed in the water. Somewhere along the way her conscious thought fled, leaving her a creature of sensation. She dimly registered Ridge helping her out of the bath. They dried each other off, the big fluffy towels adding a new layer of feeling. Then he guided her into his bedroom.
“I wish I could carry you,” he said ruefully.
It was a romantic notion, but Darcy didn’t want his injury getting in the way of this moment. “Save your knee,” she murmured, enjoying the play of the light on his muscles as he pulled down the bedspread.
“Next time,” he promised.
Darcy shivered. There would be a next time. Many more next times, in fact. There was something so freeing about that knowledge. It filled her heart with joy and made her feel safe and secure for the first time in years. Ridge was her home, her center, her safe place. And she was never going to let him go again.
She pushed his shoulder gently until he stretched out on the bed. Then she joined him, careful to avoid his knee as she fit her body around his. Moving slowly, deliberately, she rose over him, then sank down with a sigh of completion. Ridge’s own breath echoed hers but then he froze, his fingers digging into her hips.
“I’m not wearing—”
“Shh,” she assured him. “I’m protected.”
He relaxed. “It’s not that I don’t want—”
“I know,” she interrupted. “Just not right now.”
“Exactly.” He sounded relieved. “I’m so glad we’re on the same page.”
“Ridge?” Darcy rotated her hips in a move that made his eyes roll back in his head.
“Yeah?” His voice was a strangled croak.
“Let’s talk later.”
He moaned as she picked up the pace.
“Later is good.”
Chapter 17
Two weeks later...
Ridge threw the truck into Park and cut the engine, but made no move to get out. He’d put this visit off for as long as he could and now that the time was here, he was even more reluctant to go inside.
But he owed it to his siblings to talk to Matthew and get his clue. The old man was determined to play his little game, and since it was the only way they were going to find their mother’s body, Ridge and the rest of his family were forced to play along.
That didn’t mean he was going to enjoy it.
After a long moment, he climbed out of the truck. He might as well get it over with. The sooner he went inside, the sooner he’d be able to get back to Darcy. She was back at the cabin with Penny, baking and cooking up a storm. Flo was bringing little Sara over for dinner tonight, and he couldn’t wait to see them. It was the bright spot in this day, and he couldn’t wait to hold that baby girl again.
But first, he’d need a hot shower to wash off this visit. No way was he going to risk contaminating her innocence with the darkness of his father.
It didn’t take long to check in. They were expecting him, after all. He signed in, walked through the metal detector and followed a guard down a series of corridors. The halls were wide and painted white, but Ridge still felt his shoulders tighten as they moved deeper into the prison. He was so used to being outdoors—the lack of windows in this place made it all the more depressing and triggered instant claustrophobia.
Finally the guard stopped in front of a door and opened it, gesturing for Ridge to enter. The moment had arrived. He was really going to do this.
Ridge took a deep breath, his stomach twisting hard. He hadn’t seen Matthew Colton in twenty years, and in all that time, he’d tried his best to forget his father’s face. Would he even recognize the man now?
He was about to find out. He stepped past the guard with a nod. “Take all the time you need,” the man said.
Ridge didn’t respond. If he had his way, this visit wouldn’t last long at all.
The room was a narrow rectangle, divided into individual stations by a series of partitions that gave the illusion of privacy for each visitor. Black phone handsets hung on a reinforced glass panel that revealed the room beyond. Ridge was the only one there, which meant he had his pick of seats. He chose one close to the door so he wouldn’t have far to go when it was time to leave.
After a moment, the door in the adjacent room opened and a guard stepped in, followed by a thin, white-haired figure. Ridge sucked in a breath as he got his first look at his father.
The years had not been kind to Matthew Colton. Neither had the cancer. His once tall, powerful frame was now skeletal and gaunt, and he moved in a halting shuffle that suggested he was in pain. Ridge watched him approach with a curious sense of detachment. Had it been any other person, this graphic evidence of disease would have triggered his sympathy. But try as he might, Ridge could muster no sorrow for his father’s ongoing demise.
Matthew sat down with a wince. Then he lifted his head and looked directly at Ridge for the first time, his piercing blue eyes full of rage. Ridge didn’t know whether his father was angry at the cancer or upset over the fact he was going to die in prison. Either way, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Matthew Colton’s life had always been fueled by hate. Why should his death be any different?
Matthew’s thin, gnarled hand reached for his receiver. Ridge picked up his end and was treated to the rattling sound of Matthew’s breathing.
“Ridge.”
“Matthew.”
The man’s mouth twisted in a cruel smile. “Don’t you mean Dad?”
Ridge pretended to consider the question. “No. I really don’t.”
Matthew narrowed his eyes but gave no other sign of displeasure. “Well, now, that’s a shame,” he drawled. “Here I thought I was going to have a conversation with my son. But if that’s not the case, I might as well just go back to my cell.” His brow rose in challenge, and Ridge clenched his jaw. Just play the game, he told himself. Let him think he’s won something. It made him physically ill to appease this monster, but he had to get his clue so he could help his mother rest in peace.
“That won’t be necessary,” Ridge ground out. “Dad,” he added, almost choking on the word.
Matthew nodded, his expression triumphant. “That’s more like it.”
Ridge didn’t bother to respond. After a moment, Matthew shifted on his seat. “Tell me what it is you do again.”
The question made the hair on the back of Ridge’s neck stand on end. “That’s not part of the deal.” Even though there was no way Matthew Colton was ever getting out of prison, Ridge didn’t want him knowing the details of his life. He didn’t deserve to have that information.
“Guard!” Matthew called out, his voice surprisingly strong. The guard stepped into the room and Matthew cocked his head to the side in a silent question.
After a moment’s hesitation, Ridge nodded. Matthew glanced over his shoulder. “Never mind. I don’t need you yet.”
The man frowned and glanced at Ridge, who shrugged an apology. Matthew waited until the door shut again before turning back to face Ridge. “Well?”
Ridge willed his jaw to relax. “I work search and rescue.”
Something ugly flashed in Matthew’s eyes. “You think you’ll be able to find your mother’s body?”
“Yes.” Ridge refused to even entertain the thought of failure. They would find Saralee and lay her to rest. There was no other option.
A small, secret smile flitted across Matthew’s face. “We’ll see about that,” he murmured.
The conversation had gone on long enough. “I believe you have something for me?”
“I do.” Matthew straightened up, then started to cough. Ridge somehow managed to hold on to his patience while the other man hacked and gasped for what seemed like forever. When it was over, he raised a shaking hand to his mouth and wiped, trailing a small streak of bright red blood across his pale lips.
“The clue?” Ridge pressed.
“B.”
Ridge frowned. “B?”
Matthew nodded. “That’s right.”
It didn’t make any sense. “The letter, or the insect?”
The old man didn’t answer right away, and for a moment, Ridge feared he wouldn’t respond at all. Then he let out a sigh. “The letter.”
Ridge added it to the short list of clues they already had: Texas. Hill. B. He turned the words over in his mind, searching for a connection that would help him find his mother. Was it the name of a town? A place of business? One of Matthew’s old friends? But nothing jumped out at him.
Frustration welled in his chest at the futility of this visit. Was Matthew ever really going to tell them where to find Saralee? After all, it’s not as if they could do anything to him if he didn’t hold up his end of the bargain—the man was dying in prison. How much worse could things get for him?
“You don’t look too happy,” Matthew observed.
Ridge bit back a dozen retorts, knowing he had to play nice if he hoped to get more information out of the man. “The letter B isn’t much of a clue.”
“Oh, but it is,” Matthew said, a smug note entering his voice. “More than enough, if you’re clever. You just have to think like me.”
Ridge’s horror must have shown on his face because Matthew laughed, a harsh, grating sound that triggered another coughing fit, this one longer than the last. Finally, he wiped the tears of amusement from his blue eyes. “That’s right, boy,” he said, his voice rough. “You’re going to have to get into my head if you ever want to find your mama.”
“You’re disgusting.” Ridge didn’t bother trying to hide his reaction. It was clear Matthew wasn’t going to offer any additional help, not to him anyway. Maybe one of his siblings would have better luck. Like Trevor, for instance. He had made it his life’s work to understand monsters like Matthew and he knew how to talk to them. Hopefully, he would be more successful at prying information out of the man. It wasn’t a skill Ridge cared to acquire.
“That may be,” Matthew replied. “But my blood runs through your veins, and don’t you forget it. Like it or not, I’m your father. I’m a part of you and always will be.”
Ridge shook his head, thinking back to his time with little Sara. Taking care of that baby had made one thing very clear—fatherhood was more than just shared genes. “You’re not my father. You’re nothing more than a sperm donor.” He stood and dropped the black plastic receiver back into its cradle, ignoring Matthew’s muted shout of protest. Then he turned around and walked out, leaving the old man to rot in his own bitterness.
* * *
Annabel Colton pushed back from the table and allowed herself the indulgence of a jaw-cracking, eye-watering yawn. She’d risen with the sun to start her shift, then had come home to sift through the stacks of Matthew’s mail that Trevor had dropped off.
“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Her older brother had seemed almost reluctant to part with the letters. She’d tried not to take it personally—none of her brothers were happy about her choice of career, but she was good at her job and even they had to admit it. Still, they tried to protect her from what they saw as the messier side of things.
“I’m happy to help.” She knew Ridge had originally volunteered for the job, but he deserved a break. He’d been even more quiet than usual after his visit to the prison. Annabel didn’t know if it was something Matthew had said or just seeing the man again that bothered him so much, but either way, he didn’t need to trouble himself with Matthew’s fan mail. Besides, he and Darcy were like two teenagers in love and Annabel didn’t want to mar their happiness. Ridge had been alone for so long—it was nice to see him smiling again.
