Stroke of Fortune (13 page)

Flynt was touching her, stroking the side of her waist, cupping a breast, toying with it a little, then
trailing that teasing hand downward, over her stomach—lower still.

She didn't even pretend to resist him. Why should she? She wanted him and he wanted her.

And more than that.

More than just wanting. More than just this physical hunger. More than desire.

She might as well say it, she realized. Might as well get it out there, tell him in words what she was pretty certain he already knew.

When he found the feminine heart of her, she moved against his hand, moaning his name on an exhalation of breath. “Flynt.”

He made a low sound of masculine encouragement.

“Oh, Flynt.”

He continued caressing her. She felt herself drifting off on a hot sea of pure sensation and she knew she must say the words, before words themselves were lost to her.

“Oh, Flynt, I love you. I love you so.”

He lowered his mouth to hers, drank those words right off her lips. And down below, his fingers went on working their dangerous magic.

She would have told him again, cried she loved him out loud. But he had his mouth on hers and he was driving her crazy, driving her wild.

Just before she hit the peak, he reached for the box he'd set on the nightstand and he came into her, came with her, into that hot, spinning place where there was
pure pleasure, an agony of glorious sensation. And then, at last, that final rising to the shattering wonder of shared fulfillment.

 

Flynt woke after sunrise. The heavy curtains were open. He hadn't thought to close them last night; now the room was bathed in morning light.

He didn't move. Not for a minute or two, anyway. Josie lay right there in the bed next to him, her velvety cheek cradled on his arm, her pale hair a sweet tangle against her white throat.

He thought of the night just past and his body hardened instantly. Ready for more.

She had said that she loved him.

He had liked hearing that. Liked it a lot. Liked it more, he supposed, than he had any right to like it.

More than he deserved. Yeah. That was Josie. A miracle in his life. And a hell of a lot more than he would ever deserve.

He glanced at the baby monitor. It sat on the nightstand next to the open box of condoms. There was a receiver in Josie's room, too—though this morning, there would be no one in her room to hear if Lena cried.

Flynt couldn't hold back a smile. Soon enough, Lena would cry. They'd have to get up and take care of her.

Carefully he slid his arm out from under Josie's
head. She let out a small sigh, turned her face the other way, but she didn't wake.

Good.

He took hold of the coverlet and slowly peeled it back.

Her body stole his breath. She was slim and her skin was smooth, her breasts as high and full as he remembered them. Her stomach was flat—concave, even, right now, as she lay on her back.

Not a stretch mark in sight that he could detect.

No difference, he thought, his mind spinning away from what that could mean. No difference at all….

Was that possible, after Lena? Could she have carried and delivered a baby and yet have her body show no signs that she had borne a child? It seemed damned unlikely.

Yet, who could say about something like that?

It could be. Certainly, it could be….

She woke right then, with no warning. She turned her head his way and those green eyes met his.

She knew instantly what he was up to. “Oh, Flynt.” Her tone was chiding, her eyes sad.

He wanted to make demands. He wanted to force her, somehow, to tell him the truth.

But he had made a promise, and he would keep it. Lena's caseworker had said about two weeks. Twelve days had passed since he took the test. They'd have the undeniable truth very soon now.

She spoke again. “When will you believe me? Lena is not—”

He was not going to hear that. Tenderly he put his hand across her mouth, blocking her words. “No. Don't say it. Don't say it again.”

He waited until she gave him a nod, then he let his hand slide away, down that silky white throat. “Kiss me,” he commanded.

She lifted her mouth for him and he covered it with his own.

L
ena woke about a half hour later. They went in together to feed and change her. Then Flynt called down to the kitchen to have breakfast sent up. They shared it at the table in the sitting room, with Lena rocking happily in her baby swing nearby.

When Lena went back to bed, so did they. For a couple of lovely, luxurious hours, they made love. It was slow and exciting, not quite so frantic as the night before.

In the afternoon, Josie showered and dressed to go check on her mother. Flynt tapped on her door just as she was putting on her lipstick. He'd showered and changed, too, into khakis and a polo shirt. He had Lena in his arms, all dressed in pink with a little pink bonnet on her head.

“We're coming with you,” he announced.

“To my mother's?”

“That's right. Any objections?”

“Well, no. That would be fine.” She felt a wide smile break over her face. “I'd love it.”

So they all went to Alva's. Josie's mother seemed delighted to see them. She fed Lena her bottle, her
eyes getting kind of misty. “Oh, it has been such a long, long time since I've held a sweet one like this in my arms.”

If she had any questions about what, exactly, was going on between her daughter and Flynt Carson and the “mystery baby,” she didn't ask them. She offered them sweet cold tea and some Toll House cookies she'd made the day before.

Flynt asked her how she was feeling.

“Much, much better. Good enough to bake cookies. That's something, don't you think?”

He agreed that it was—and he added that they were very good cookies. Just about the best he'd ever tasted, as a matter of fact.

Color came into Alva's too-pale cheeks. “I can see you are a charmer, Flynt Carson.”

Flynt laughed at that. “‘Charmer' is not the word most would use.”

“Well, then, they probably don't know the real you.”

They left Alva's around four. Josie lingered for a moment at the door, while Flynt, carrying Lena, went on ahead to his pickup, which was parked at the curb in front of the house.

“He's a keeper,” her mother whispered. “Nothing like what everyone says.”

Josie put on a disapproving expression. “Mama, have you been listening to gossip?”

“Well, now, honey, gossip is the thing we should
all be above—and also the thing that not many can resist.”

The two women fell silent. Flynt had reached the pickup. The afternoon sun brought out the streaks of gold in his hair. He opened the rear door and began hooking Lena into her seat.

Alva leaned close to Josie. “Now that I've had a little time with him, I can see what you love in him. He's a good man.”

“Yes, he is.”

“You're gonna be happy.”

“I do hope so, Mama.” She couldn't help remembering that morning, the way he had pulled the covers back as she slept and studied her body, looking for proof that she'd left her own baby on a golf course for him to find, that she'd lied to him and that she continued to lie.

No, things weren't settled yet. And there was no guarantee, when they were settled, that the outcome would be a happy one.

“I see those shadows in your eyes.” Alva moved closer. Her lips brushed Josie's cheek. “Remember. Follow your heart.”

“I'm trying, Mama. I truly am.”

 

They had their dinner in Lena's room. Then, as evening came on, they went outside and took a walk in the gardens at the back of the house, pushing Lena along the paths in a stroller.

Like the gardens at the club, the lush trees and flowers and the big expanses of lawn seemed almost too lovely to be real. South Texas, after all, was not naturally the greenest place on earth. Except near the rivers and along the coast, it was true brush country, the land as a rule rocky and dry, the vegetation heavy on cactus and bunch grass, good for raising cattle, and not much else.

It took a lot of water, doubtless out of nearby Lake Maria, to keep gardens like the ones around the Carson house green and beautiful. To Josie, it seemed just a tad wasteful. But it sure was a treat to stroll along in the inviting shade of the trees, enjoying the vivid beauty of a bougainvillea spilling down a trellis, admiring the roses that bloomed everywhere.

Beyond the gardens, she could see the roofs of all the buildings that made this a working ranch, barns and stables and housing for the hands. And beyond the outbuildings lay acres and acres of open country where the Carson cattle grazed.

Grace was waiting in Lena's room when they got back upstairs.

“The gardens are lovely,” Flynt's mother said, the sweetest, warmest smile on her face. “I hope you've been enjoying them.”

Both Josie and Flynt agreed that they had.

“Let me hold that little sweetheart.” Grace scooped Lena into her arms. “I swear, if this is what
it's like being a grandma, the job is for me. I want more grandchildren. And soon.”

More,
Grace had said.
I want
more
grandchildren.
Flynt's mother seemed so sure that Lena was his child.

Flynt didn't appear the least bothered by what his mother had just implied. He laughed. “You've got two daughters and two sons—and all of them are single as of today. It's not a promising start, Ma.”

Grace said, “Well, we are working on the problem, now, aren't we?” She sounded very pleased.

And
that
did Josie's heart good. Cara really had gotten it right. She'd said Grace would come around.

“Now,” Grace said, “I want you two to take the evening for yourselves. I'll watch Lena, practice my grandmothering skills.” Josie and Flynt exchanged glances. Grace made a shooing motion with her hand. “Go on, now. I mean it. Have a lovely time.”

“Well, Grace,” Josie said, “if you're sure…”

“I'm positive.”

Flynt took Josie's arm. “Let's get out of here before she has second thoughts.”

“Good idea.” They turned for the door.

Grace warned gently, “Don't stay out too late now.”

Flynt promised, “We won't.”

“And one more thing…”

They paused in the doorway. “Okay, Ma. What's the catch?”

Grace grinned. “Church. Tomorrow. Both of you. Be ready at ten. We'll all go together, as a family. I've already told your father and Cara. I'll make a point to speak with Matt and Fiona, as well.”

“I'm on the golf course Sunday mornings. You know that.”

“Not
this
Sunday, you're not.”

 

“Where shall we go?” Flynt asked once they'd climbed into his fancy pickup and headed down the curving driveway that led to the road.

“How about the Saddlebag? I liked it there. It's cozy and quiet.”

“Saddlebag it is.”

They took the same table they'd had the night before and they held hands and leaned close and whispered to each other like the lovers they were.

“Your mother sure has changed her tune,” Josie said.

“You noticed.”

“I still can hardly believe that she wants me to go to church with you all. And I'll bet it's First Church, too, isn't it?”

“Right on both counts.”

All the rich folks went to First Church. “Oh, I knew it. She's making a statement, isn't she? Letting the world know that she and your father have decided to accept me in your life.”

“That's about the size of it. Does it bother you?”

“Aside from the jittery feeling in my stomach, I think it's just dandy. But it's too bad about your golf game.”

“Yeah. That's a sacrifice, all right. But I suppose I'll bear up somehow.”

“I'm so relieved to hear that.”

“And as for your jittery stomach…”

“Yes?”

“Relax.”

“That's real easy for you to say.”

“I'm serious. Your biggest challenge will be staying awake during the sermon. Pastor Williams has one of those droning voices. Way too soothing. He needs a little more hellfire and brimstone in his delivery, to keep the sinners on their toes.”

Josie couldn't hold back a giggle. “And you know we need it—with all the sinning we've been doing. And probably
will
be doing later tonight.”

“No ‘probably' about it.”

Josie felt the blush creeping into her cheeks. “Your mother wouldn't approve.”

“My mother will mind her own business now that she sees what direction we're headed in.”

She wanted to ask him, “And what direction is that?” But she didn't quite dare. Not yet. In a way, everything seemed to hinge on those test results they were waiting for.

Once they came through and Flynt had accepted the truth, they could move on. They could talk about
things like where they were going as a couple. They could make plans.

It was okay with Josie, really, that they weren't making plans right this minute. What they were doing was lovely, to be treasured for just what it was: two people holding hands across a table, talking and laughing and so glad to be together.

“Is that a slow song I hear?” He stood and pulled her up with him.

She went into his arms and they danced.

The hours went by so swiftly. It seemed as if hardly any time had passed, but according to the big heavily varnished wooden clock over the bar—the one carved in the shape of Texas—it was midnight. They agreed they should probably head back to the ranch to relieve Grace.

They found Flynt's mother in the same place as the night before—asleep in the rocker. They woke her gently. She said good-night.

Once she had left them, they went straight to Flynt's big bedroom and shut the door and did all the things that lovers do when they're finally alone together in the dark.

It was after three when they dropped off to sleep. Josie woke around seven, feeling marvelously well rested—and also as if she could eat a dozen eggs, a side of beef and maybe a loaf or two of Texas toast.

Flynt got a call on the house line from Matt about some ranch business that needed tending, so he left
her to take care of Lena and eat her big breakfast on her own. He didn't return until nine-thirty. He jumped in the shower to wash off the trail dust and was ready just in time to head into town for the Carson family visit to First Church.

They went in separate vehicles, Ford and Grace in one of the Cadillacs, Josie, Lena and Flynt in his big pickup, Matt in his pickup and Fiona and Cara each in cars of their own.

“No such thing as carpooling in the Carson family,” Josie teased as they drove into town.

Flynt grunted. “No way. We all need to know we've got a means of escape, if it comes to that.”

Josie made a scoffing sound. “Oh, come on. Going to church together can't be that bad.”

“You're right. It's not. Truth is, we Carsons are all independent types. We like to get places on our own steam.”

She sent him a musing look.

He glanced over and frowned. “What?”

“Well, and yet you all still live out at the ranch.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, but on our own terms. Matt has his house. So does Cara. My wing is pretty much the same as having my own place. Fiona's the only one who lives in my parents' part of the house. But her rooms are
her
rooms and both our parents respect that—for the most part, anyway.”

Josie picked up on the operative phrase. “For the most part?”

“Yeah. When it comes to Fiona, my father's on the verge of— How should I put it? Interfering in her life, I guess you could say.”

“Because?”

“She's so damned wild. He thinks she'll never settle down. Both he and Ma worry she'll get herself into some scrape she can't get out of. In case you didn't notice, she is spoiled. Running around from one guy to the next. And it's kind of terrifying, the way she can spend money. My dad's been making noises lately that he's going to have to do something to rein her in.”

“Flynt, come on. Fiona can wrap your father around her little finger.”

“Right. But that doesn't mean he's not worried for her, that he isn't thinking she needs to change her ways—and that if she won't change on her own, he'll just have to help her along.”

“How would he do that?”

“Hell if I know. I don't think
he
knows, yet.”

At the church, they took Lena to the nursery and then joined the rest of the family for the service. Cara, as always, was warm and friendly. Ford, in his gruff way, made sure Josie knew he welcomed her presence. Grace was a sweetheart.

Matt was quiet and kind of brooding, as if he had something weighing on his mind. Josie had a pretty good idea of what. She couldn't help hurting for him and for Rose.

Fiona batted her eyelashes and patted the space next to her in the family pew. “Sit right here, Josie Lavender, and tell me all about how you've been. I swear, you just vanished last year, now didn't you? Pouf. You were gone, gone, gone.”

Grace said, “Now, Fiona…”

But Josie only grinned. “Great to see you, too, Fiona. I've been doin' fine, really. Living up near Dallas. But my mama's not well so I had to come home.”

“I'll tell you this much.” Fiona cast a meaningful glance in Flynt's direction. “Some people sure seem pleased to have you around again.”

Flynt was sitting on Josie's other side. She felt his hand brushing hers, then clasping it. She gave his fingers a squeeze and told Fiona softly, “Well, it is good to be home.”

After the service Fiona and Matt made excuses and took off, as Flynt had predicted a few of the Carsons might. The rest of them hung around to shake hands with Pastor Williams out on the wide church steps beneath the already punishing late-morning sun.

Grace introduced Josie. “Pastor Williams, this is Josie Lavender. She is a…very close friend of Flynt's.”