Nor did he. Instead, he took the final step to bring him close and leaned down until they were nearly nose-to-nose. “ I’m a good man—”
“I know you are. You’re a real hero. One who’s made a difference to so many other people. Saved lives. That wouldn’t have happened if you had stayed here…with me,” she said and reached up, cradled the side of his face.
Her tender touch nearly undid him, but he couldn’t leave it at that. “Did you love me? When you walked down the aisle—”
“I loved Tim with all my heart.”
He had thought he was over the pain of losing her to another man, but the ache deep in the center of him told him otherwise. Her words were creating as much hurt now as her actions had eighteen years earlier.
But he couldn’t retaliate and wound her, even if he was in agony with her admission.
He also couldn’t let her continue to hide behind her love for Saint Tim.
Cradling her cheeks with both hands, he finally wiped away the trail of tears on her face with his thumb. Stroked the soft skin of her cheek and bent that final inch so that his lips were close to hers. He whispered, “You wanted me then and you want me now.”
Then he kissed her like there was no tomorrow because he knew there might not be. As honor-bound as he felt to help Macy now that he knew T.J. was his son, he was also sure that he was not cut out for family or civilian life.
There was just too much uncertainty unlike the orderly military life that had worked so well for him, he told himself even as he kept on kissing Macy. Opening his mouth against hers over and over until it wasn’t enough and he finally slipped his tongue within to taste the sweetness of her breath.
She responded to him willingly, going up on tiptoe to continue the kiss. Pressing against him until he needed more. He slipped his hands beneath her buttocks and lifted her until her backside was on the edge of the counter and her legs were straddling him.
Macy shivered as the hard jut of his erection brushed the center of her, awakening a rush of desire that dragged a moan from her.
The sound penetrated the fog of want that had wrapped itself around them, tempering their kisses. Creating a short lull during which she managed to murmur a soft, “I’m sorry. I should have told you about T.J.”
The reminder of her deception stilled his actions and he lifted his lips from hers, but remained close, his hands tangled in her hair. His body intimately pressed against her.
“Macy, I wish that things could be different, only—”
“Ma, I’m hungry,” they heard loud and clear from T.J.’s bedroom upstairs.
The typical teen moment shattered the emotional angst and lust that had overtaken them.
Fisher released a rough sigh and stepped away while she called up to her son, “I’ll be up with something in a minute.”
She slipped off the counter and gestured to the oak kitchen table. “Will you stay for lunch?”
He nodded, but quickly added, “Let me help you with it.”
She sensed that the hero in him intended to help her with more than lunch, much like she had asked. As much as she appreciated that he would do so, she also hoped that she wasn’t making a mistake that would not only break her heart, but hurt her son.
When she acquiesced to his request, she quickly pulled out a can of condensed tomato soup from one cabinet and handed it to him. “Can you make this while I put together some sandwiches?”
“Can do,” he said and she headed to the fridge for the fixings for lunch. She had some leftover roast beef that she could slice up for sandwiches and as she prepared them, she kept half an eye on Fisher as he made the soup.
He went into the fridge and removed a bottle of salsa and some shredded cheddar cheese. After opening the can and adding the water, he proceeded to put in a few heaping spoonfuls of the salsa to the soup. As she plated the sandwiches, he poured the steaming hot soup into bowls and topped them off with some of the shredded cheese.
Grabbing a tray from beneath the island counter, she prepped T.J.’s lunch, added a glass of milk to the tray and took it up to him.
The short nap he had taken seemed to have made a difference. He appeared more alert and not as pale as before and so it was with a lighter heart that she went back to the kitchen.
Fisher had set the table, laid out the soup and sandwiches for each of them along with fresh mugs of coffee.
“Thank you,” she said and offered him a tired smile as she sat down beside him.
“You may not be thanking me when this is all over,” he said and picked up half of his roast beef sandwich.
“Why’s that?”
Fisher thoughtfully chewed the bite of sandwich before responding with, “Because if I’m going to help you, I intend to make sure that T.J. is being totally upfront with you, me and the sheriff.”
She paused to consider him as he resumed eating and realized that he was in his military mode, where there were rules that needed to be followed and the failure to do so had consequences. She had tried to follow the same basic principles in raising her son, but too often since Tim’s death, she had cut T.J. slack about the consequences part. In retrospect, she had done so to try and soften his father’s loss, but had Tim been alive, he wouldn’t have put up with T.J.’s behavior.
Fisher wouldn’t either and that might be a good thing. “I agree that we need to get to the bottom of why T.J. isn’t telling us what he saw today.”
Fisher paused with his soup-filled spoon in mid-air, clearly surprised by her agreement. When he realized she was on board with him, he said, “And what’s actually up with the missing girl. Sara, right?”
“Sara Engeleit,” she confirmed and finally took a spoonful of the soup. The salsa and cheese had transformed the simple soup and her stomach growled noisily in appreciation.
“It’s delicious,” she said and quickly ate another spoonful.
“A bachelor’s got to know how to take care of himself,” Fisher said, but knew he had made a mistake when Macy’s eyes darkened with sadness. Despite that, he had no doubt that it made sense to remind her of what he was and what he would continue to be once he was done helping her.
“Tell me about Sara,” he said in an attempt to draw her attention to something besides their confusing and basically non-existent relationship.
With a shrug, she said, “Not much to tell. She came to the ranch about a week and a half ago. Right before T.J. and Joe started working at the Hopechest.”
“Do you know where she’s from?” After he asked the question, he took a bite of his sandwich.
Macy likewise took a bite, rolled her eyes upward as if trying to gather all that she knew about the girl before responding. “She’s sixteen and from Dallas, we believe. When she arrived at the ranch, she had some bruises on her arms and hands, but she seems to be from a family that’s fairly well-off judging from her clothes and behavior.”
“What about your boss? Does she know anything more?”
“Yesterday morning Jewel mentioned hiring a private investigator since Sara was missing. She was supposed to get a name from Joe Colton, but I haven’t talked to her since then.”
“Maybe after lunch—”
“I’ll call her,” she said and after that, the two of them quickly finished up the last of their soup and sandwiches.
While Fisher cleared off the table and tackled the dishes, she phoned Jewel to fill her in on all that had happened, beginning with the hit-and-run incident with T.J.
“Is he okay?” her friend asked, her concern evident in the tones of her voice.
“Bruised and banged up a little, but nothing serious luckily.”
A heavy sigh filled the line. “I’m not liking this, Macy. There’s just too much going on for it all not to be related.”
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