The Backup Plan (19 page)

Inside the bank, she marched straight past his secretary with little more than a cursory greeting, then walked into Marshall's office. He was in the middle of a meeting with one of the bank's vice presidents, but after one look at her face, he told the man they'd finish up later.

Dorothy acknowledged Grayson Pickett as he left, then took the seat he'd vacated.

“I assume you want to discuss Tommy Lee's absurd decision to go to work for Cordell,” Marshall said, seizing the initiative.

Dorothy was familiar with the tactic. It was meant to take the wind out of her sails, but today she had quite a lot to say and she intended to spit out every word.

“A decision which you no doubt pushed him into making,” she retorted.

“Me?” he said incredulously. “You can't seriously blame this on me. I've done everything I could to see that Tommy Lee knew what was expected of him here. Running this bank is a huge responsibility. Tommy Lee's never been interested in buckling down to get it right.”

“Which I'm sure you've been pleased to tell him at least once a day,” she snapped. What had ever made her believe she could work things out with this cold, disap
proving man? Right this second, she wanted to smack him for hurting their son.

He frowned at her. “What did you expect me to do? Let him slide along because he's my son? As it is if he'd been anyone else, I would have fired him years ago.”

“Then I'm sure you're delighted with this turn of events,” she said.

“No, I am not delighted,” Marshall snapped. “I would have preferred it, if he'd shown even a modicum of interest in assuming his rightful heritage. You asked me not long ago if I'd given any thought to retirement. Now do you get why I haven't been able to do that? After four generations, the only thing I can do now is to sell out to one of the huge, impersonal banking conglomerates. This place will no longer be in Davis hands. How the hell do you think that makes me feel?”

“Maybe you should spend more time worrying about how your son feels,” she said. “Obviously he knows he's let you down. I'm sure he must feel like a failure.”

“Well, how would you describe him? After every ad vantage we've given him, he's going to work in construction.”

She regarded him with dismay. She was no happier about that than he clearly was. “Isn't there something you can do? Can't you give him another chance?”

“It's not a matter of giving him another chance, Dorothy,” he said wearily. “This was his decision. Maybe I pushed him. I can't say. But the truth is, he wasn't happy here. Not from the very beginning. As much as it pains me to say it, I think this is for the best. Maybe he'll find what he's looking for working with Cord.” He gave her a sad smile. “There's a lot more of you in him, than there is of me.”

Wasn't that what Tommy Lee and Dinah had both
said? She hadn't wanted to look at it in quite that way. Had she wanted another excuse to be mad at Marshall? Maybe instead of being furious with her husband, though, she should be proud of her son. Tommy Lee had felt pressured to get out of banking, but perhaps he'd found the one thing for which he was better suited. Perhaps they should both be rejoicing in that and not making the decision about the two of them and their failures at all.

She sighed and regarded Marshall apologetically. “I'm sorry I came in here ready to blame everything on you.”

He smiled. “Believe me, you haven't said anything I didn't say to myself last night after Tommy Lee told me what he intended to do. You and I had a lot of dreams for our kids, but in the end they've had to find the dreams they wanted and we've had to learn to let them.”

“Do you think we failed them?”

“Not if they find what they're looking for,” he consoled her. “I want to believe they'll both come out all right in the end.”

She stood up and walked around his desk and slid into his lap. “I guess that leaves us to figure out what we want,” she said, her hand on his cheek.

His grin was as mischievous as it had been when they'd first met. “I know what I want,” he said. “Tell me.”

He shook his head. “Not till date night,” he said. “This isn't the place. Besides, it'll do you good to let the anticipation build a little.”

“What are we doing?”

“You'll see.”

She laughed. “You're not even going to tell me that? How will I know how to dress?”

“I'll give you just enough notice,” he promised. “I don't want you to waste a lot of time stewing over the right thing to wear. This is all about us learning to be impulsive again, okay?”

Dorothy couldn't recall the last time she'd thought of her husband and impulsiveness in the same sentence. She touched her lips to his. She was certainly ready, though, to give it a try. If their marriage was ever going to be more than an obligation again, they needed to put a spark back into it, the same kind of spark she'd seen in Tommy Lee's eyes when he'd told her about his decision. For the first time since he'd made his stunning announcement, she let herself be truly happy for him.

And gazing into Marshall's eyes, she allowed herself to feel the first faint stirring of hope.

 

Cord had ruined half a dozen pieces of wood meant for the detailed chair rail in the plantation dining room. He couldn't seem to get Dinah off his mind. He was kicking himself for not insisting on going with her to see the psychologist, not into the room of course, just to the reception area, so she'd have some moral support. Sometimes she needed somebody to override this independent streak of hers, whether she realized it or not.

And who knew if this guy Maggie had recommended was any good? Dinah could come out of the session a basket case, in no condition to get behind the wheel of a car. He should have been there for her, made sure she had a shoulder to cry on if she needed it.

He looked at the six-foot length of pine he'd just run through the saw and muttered a colorful expletive. For an expert using a mistake-proof saw, he'd made a mess of things yet again.

“Nice talk,” Dinah said, coming up behind him. She
slipped an arm through his and glanced at the ruined wood. “Does my mother know you're this sloppy?”

“No, thank God.” He studied her. “Have you been crying? Your eyes are red.”

She grinned. “Thanks for noticing. I thought I'd performed miracles with my makeup before driving out here.”

“Did that shrink make you cry?” he inquired, fighting the desire to go pummel the man even though he knew perfectly well tears were probably inevitable if the shrink was doing his job right.

To his astonishment, Dinah turned slightly and wrapped her arms around his waist. She wearily rested her head against his chest. “You going to beat him up, if he did?” she murmured.

“Only if you want me to,” he said, feeling completely out of his depth. “Are you okay?”

“Not exactly.”

“Want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. “I've done all the talking I can bear for one day.”

“Then what can I do?” he asked in frustration.

She looked up at him, tears pooling in her eyes again. “Take me home with you. I don't want to be alone, Cordell.”

He tossed aside his protective goggles at once. “Let's go.”

She pulled back and stared up at him. “You'll walk right out of here, just like that?” she asked with surprise.

“You need me, you're the priority,” he said flatly.

“You're amazing. I expected a whole litany of excuses.”

He grinned down at her. “Did you now? Was this a
test? You gonna back out now that you've got my hopes all built for a lazy afternoon in my hammock?”

She ran her hands up under his T-shirt. “Not a chance, especially if you'll lose the shirt.”

He stripped it over his head. “Done. Now what?” he asked, his lips twitching.

She stood on tiptoe and whispered in his ear. Cord felt every drop of blood in his body pool directly in the lower part of his anatomy.

“I'm accommodating, sugar, but this place is crawling with workmen. I don't know about you, but I'm not much of an exhibitionist.”

“You did a pretty darn good imitation of one over at the beach,” she reminded him with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “But I suppose I can wait till we get to your place.”

He winked at her. “You ever get naked in a hammock?”

“Not that I recall,” she said primly. “But I surely am looking forward to it.”

“Me, too, sugar. Me, too.”

 

Dinah had instinctively gone looking for Cord after her session with Dr. Blake. The fact that Cord had been willing to drop everything in the blink of an eye just be cause she'd asked meant more to her than he could ever understand.

Every day it seemed she discovered one more example of just how rock-solid and dependable the onetime bad boy had become. Not that he'd turned into a saint. He was just far more complex and fascinating than she'd expected. Danger and reliability weren't half as incompatible as she'd always thought they were.

Right now, this afternoon, though, she was hoping for a little of Cord's trademark wickedness.

He'd barely pulled his truck to a stop in front of his place and come around to open her door, when she leaped into his arms, wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him until his breath was coming in ragged gasps.

Eventually he pulled back and regarded her with vaguely dazed eyes. “You hungry, sugar?”

“You have no idea,” she said, diving back in for another stomach-dipping, roller-coaster ride of a kiss.

She put one hand on his chest so she could feel the thundering of his heart. This was it. This was life pumping through him, she rejoiced.

She could feel the maddening heat and fullness of his arousal pressing against her. She wanted all of that heat inside her, coaxing her back to life, making her blood pump and her pulse race. She wanted the oblivion of mind-numbing sensation, sensation that rolled through her in waves, that made every nerve sing.

“Love me, Cord. Please, love me.”

He headed for his hammock and rolled into it, settling her astride him and meeting her gaze with a lazy, self-satisfied smile that she'd come to identify with him years ago when he'd driven her half crazy with a desire she'd never wanted to acknowledge. She'd fought the attraction, choosing Bobby, not just because he was reliable, but because he was safe. He would never consume her like this, never make her want like this. Apparently she'd known subconsciously that she would be able to leave Bobby while she wouldn't be able to walk away so easily from his brother. Cord had given her the perfect excuse to hate him when he'd betrayed her by lying about her to his brother. She thought she understood
now just why he'd done it. She also believed he'd never do anything to hurt her so badly again.

She looked into Cord's eyes and guessed that he'd seen all along the combustion that would happen if they ever got together. He'd stayed in the background and waited, risking the possibility that she might never come back, might never discover what they could be together.

She ran her hands over Cord's powerful chest, let her fingers tangle in the dark hair, felt again the jump of his pulse. He'd deliberately linked his hands behind his head, leaving whatever was to happen up to her. He seemed to sense intuitively that she needed the control.

Oddly, now that she had it, she was happy to give back, rather than take. She slowly, carefully slid open the zipper of his jeans and took him in her hands. That startled him.

“Nice to know I can still surprise you,” she whispered as she ran her tongue over the tip of his arousal.

“Darlin', don't you know you take my breath away just by walking into a room?” he asked, his voice husky, his breath hitching to emphasize the point. “This might just about kill me.”

“We wouldn't want that,” she teased, pulling away.

“I'll risk it,” he said fervently.

Dinah leaned back down and claimed him, feeling his body jolt and set the hammock in motion. When she couldn't stand it a moment longer, she slipped off her panties and lowered herself onto him, taking him inside and then waiting, letting the sweet tension build. Cord's eyes were closed. His muscles tensed as he waited, ceding the control as if he knew how desperately she needed it.

The hammock didn't allow for the wild ride she'd in tended, so she settled for something lazy and slow, something that allowed her to savor each sensation as something separate and distinct before, at last, they blurred together into something that sent them both into a shuddering, magnificent release.

When her pulse finally quieted, Cord stroked a hand over her backside, then lifted her and settled her next to him, her head resting on his shoulder.

“You know what you've done, don't you?” he said, his voice threaded with amusement. “What?”

“You've taken a perfectly good hammock and ruined it for me,” he said, though he didn't sound especially distraught about it.

Dinah looked at him suspiciously. “Ruined it how?”

“Up till today, I've always been able to come out here with a beer, lay back and let my mind wander, while I wait for a breeze to stir through these big old trees.”

“You won't be able to do that anymore?”

“Not a chance. From today on, I'll be thinking about this.” He grinned. “I've got to tell you, there is nothing restful about the images that are going to come to mind.”

“Then I suppose you'll have to call me whenever you intend to come out here, so we can do something about all those wild ideas I've planted in your head.” She met his gaze. “I like the thought of driving you a little crazy.”

“You're good at it, that's for sure,” he admitted.

She studied him seriously. “Do you mind?”

“Mind what? You coming by to ravish me?”