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Her face flushed with embarrassment. She shouldn't have told him that secret. Now she was faced with lying or telling him the embarrassing truth. She hadn't been raised to lie. "I don't want to tell you." She tried to evade the question. She backed up until
her hand fell on the doorknob behind her.
"Please, baby."
The need in his eyes was her undoing. Her hand twisted the knob behind her. "Don't you know already, Jake?" She softly whispered.
"Tell me," he demanded.
She sucked in a stabilizing breath. "Since I was fourteen. Since the first time I laid eyes on you."
She turned and fled.
Chapter Four
Thursday evening Becky was buttering rolls in the kitchen at her aunt's boardinghouse. She heard the front door open and close and the murmur of voices at the front desk. She hadn't seen or heard from the sheriff all day. She'd heeded his warning, and stayed away from his house. The truth of the matter was she was afraid to face him after her confession last night. She had left his house so quickly, she didn't know how he had reacted. Did he think she was a young girl with a crush on him? Or did he realize she had been in love with him all along?
Her body quivered and her breasts tightened when she remembered the night before. He had actually marked her! There was a red bruise on her neck where he had put his mouth the night before. When she washed this morning and saw it in the mirror, she felt faint. At first she didn't know what it was, and when it dawned on her, liquid heat slammed into her. All day long, she would catch herself, absently touching the spot. She couldn't help but wonder if he knew it, and what it would feel like if she could leave a similar mark on him. Just the thought of that intimate mark on her neck had her insides quivering every time she remembered that it was there.
"Becky, Becky come in here, sweetie." The sound of her aunt's voice broke her away from her reverie. She wiped her hands and went into the front parlor. "The sheriff has come to see you." Her aunt beamed a smile at them.
Jake leaned against the front desk, watching her. His eyes were hooded, his expression unreadable. Muscles bulged against his shirt, his forearms tanned and sinewy.
Her aunt continued, "He says everything's set for Saturday. Now, I'll watch the front while you take him back to the kitchen and ya'll get some supper."
Jake followed her around to the kitchen as her aunt herded them through the door.
"Smells good. Did you make it?" he asked as she ladled out chicken and dumplings into a bowl. She nodded confirmation. He pulled out a chair and sat down. She placed the bowl in front of him and turned to get the basket of rolls. He reached out and grabbed her wrist. He pushed the chair out next to him with his boot. It scraped against the floor. "Sit down and eat with me, Becky." She nodded her head again and he released her. She fixed a small helping for herself and sat.
His eyes never left hers as he picked up the fork and started eating. He swallowed several large bites, then said, "I love your cooking."
She pushed the rolls in his direction and waited while he picked one up. She hesitated, then began taking small bites. In all the years she had cooked for him, she had never sat down to eat with him. It felt very intimate.
Jake noticed she hadn't spoken a word since he walked into the boardinghouse. She was back to being her quiet, serene self. The peace he felt for three years when she was with him washed through him. Her hand fluttered toward her neck and smoothed down her hair. She glanced at him, and then away again.
"What's wrong?" he demanded. The question had her pressing her hand up and against her neck again.
"N-nothing." She wouldn't meet his eyes. He lifted her hand away from her neck with a firmness she couldn't hope to fight against and moved her hair back. The impact of seeing his mark on her neck jarred him. Blood surged and hardened him. His hand gripped hers.
"Hurry and finish up there. I want to take you for a walk." She took a last bite and moved their dishes to the counter.
He reached out and grabbed her hand.
She pulled on her arm to slow him down. "Don't you w-want dessert?" Her tongue reached out and moistened her lips.
Desire clenched his guts. Saturday couldn't get here soon enough. He looked at her mouth. "Yeah, I do." He pulled on her arm. "Let's go."
As he rushed her out the front door, she heard her aunt tell them to have fun. When they got out on the street she tried to keep apace with him. "Where are we going?" Her voice was breathless. Night was falling and they were going to be out in the dark, all alone.
"Let's go to the bridge." The Waco suspension bridge had opened just two years before, and it was one of the most amazing sites she had ever seen. There were a few other suspension bridges in the United States, but nothing could compare to the bridge that crossed the Brazos River.
"It's going to be dark, and I don't have any money, Jake." Even though she argued against it, she wanted to go to the bridge; she loved it there.
"It's not too dark. I'll pay your tolls." He turned to face her. Right there in the street, he lifted her face and twined her hair through his fingers. "You don't ever need to worry about money again, Becky. I'm going to take care of you." Fascinated, she felt the magnetic force of his attraction. He reached for her hand again and pulled her along.
They hurried through the evening traffic, the temptation of the night to come all around them. Jake held her hand in his, the memory of last night teasing his brain.
After she ran from him the night before, her words had slammed into him. Becky thought she was in love with him. She had been so quiet all these years, he hadn't known. But even from the very beginning, she must have been infatuated with him.
