Under A Painted Moon Page 7

  Barry had not seen it as it happened. He doubted that Wayne had allowed any of Courtney's friends to see it. Tyler had certainly never given him any indication of how things were for Courtney. And Courtney had clung to her pride, not confiding in her friends.

  Having seen her flinch when he made a quick move in her direction made him wonder again if Wayne had ever gotten physical. He did seem to Barry as the sort of man that would smack a woman around.

  Courtney finally looked up at him. “I'm fine. I just stopped to tell you I'll be at the shop. I'll see you later.” She turned and walked away from him, her back straight.

  "Court."

  She didn't stop. The door closed between them.

  Barry flopped back down on the couch, sighing. There wasn't any point in going after her yet. If he followed her to Desert Moon and tried to talk to her while she was working, she'd be even more upset. The only thing to do was let her have some time to think.

  She was an intelligent woman. Once she settled down and realized that what she'd seen was not any sort of infidelity, she'd be fine.

  He took a swallow of his iced tea, then pulled his shirt over his head. He had some work he should do, too. Then he'd go see if she was over being surprised.

  Damn contrary, prideful female.

  Chapter 9

  Courtney slipped behind the wheel of her car and sat shaking. It was so stupid to react this way. She'd heard enough of Barry and Paris’ conversation to know it was friendly business and nothing more. Yet when that bimbo had leaned over and kissed Barry's cheek, it had been too much. The anger and the jealousy had been overwhelming for several moments.

  She rested her forehead on the steering wheel. Running away was not the answer. Heaven only knew what Barry was thinking.

  He could have come after her.

  No, he wouldn't do that. He'd think she needed time alone, time to think. He'd think she was going back to Desert Moon because she said she was. He knew the importance she placed on her business. No, he'd give her space. He'd been giving her space since that night on the couch.

  Only, she didn't know if she wanted the space any longer. She didn't know what she wanted, period.

  She snatched up her purse and keys and strode determinedly back up Barry's walk. It wasn't fair of her to drive off and not let him know she was all right, that their friendship was intact.

  If friendship was what they had.

  She opened the door to his studio and stepped inside. Barry was sprawled out on his sofa, shirtless, eyes closed. He was holding his iced tea glass to the center of his forehead. God, he had a good chest. He worked out just enough to stay in shape but not bulk up. It was the look she preferred.

  She tried not to notice the fingers of his free hand tucked under the waistband of his jeans.

  "Headache?"

  He jumped, spilling the tea down his chest.

  "You left!” He grabbed a paper towel and swabbed at his torso.

  "I didn't. I'm here."

  "I see that. Want some tea?"

  If I can lick it off your chest.

  "Sure.” She dropped her purse and keys on the table inside the door. Crossing the floor in three long paces, she plucked the glass from his hand and sipped. He cocked an eyebrow at her.

  "So why did you come back?"

  "That is the question, isn't it?” She sat the glass to the side, keeping her eyes on him.

  Why had she come back—really? The only thing Barry would truly respect was an honest answer.

  She leaned over him, placing her hands on his shoulders. He reached for her, resting his hands on the curves of her hips. She slowly fitted her lips to his. His fingers tightened, pulling her closer. His lips remained passive under her kiss. She lifted her head to look at him. His eyes were closed. A quirky little smile twitched in the corner of his mouth.

  Of all the possible responses, she would have expected from him, laughing at her hadn't been one.

  "You'd better tell me what's so amusing, McWaters."

  "That's the first time you've kissed me.” His eyes popped open. “Do it again and just let me lay back and enjoy it."

  She rolled her eyes at him. “You clown."

  "Clown? I'm serious, babe.” He tugged on her hips again. “Why'd you come back, Court?"

  "I couldn't leave without letting you know everything is okay."

  "Between us."

  Courtney took a deep breath. She'd wanted to avoid this moment, but it was upon her. She either had to walk away, or acknowledge that they did share something that was turning them into ‘us'.

  It felt like a commitment she couldn't make. Yet if she didn't, all her instincts said he'd back away for good. To refuse to respond was to test the limits of his patience. She couldn't risk doing that.

  That surprised her.

  She didn't have time to dissect it now. The smile faded from his face. His eyes darkened. His gaze bored into hers, seeing more of her than she ever wanted to show to anyone.

  She could only think of one thing to do to try and tell him what was balled up inside her. Would he sense it? All the hope, and fear, that drowned her when she was this close to him? There was only one way to find out. She kissed him again.

  His lips opened under hers, hot and eager. He shifted, tugging on her. She sprawled across him, her mouth never leaving his. Need suddenly swamped her, crashing through her system, stealing her breath. His arms came around her, sheltering her in a warm circle of steel.

  He rolled them, pinning her between his body and the back of the sofa. His knee nudged at hers, coaxing at first, then insistent. She lifted her leg, resting her knee on his hip, giving him what he wanted. His thigh pressed tightly to her, a wonderful pressure against her heat. She flexed her body against him. His hips jerked to hers.

  Her hand fisted in his hair as his tongue teased along her upper lip. Her nipples tingled, tightening into aching peaks. She rubbed the one she could reach in an effort to ease the ache. Barry's hand covered hers, quickly taking its place. He teased her, rolling the nipple between his thumb and finger. The pressure inside her ballooned.

  His lips slid down her neck, stringing kisses. The ache deep in her belly began pounding. A vision of them coupling flashed in front of her closed eyes. She flooded wet, preparing for something she couldn't let happen. She pushed against his chest.

  "Easy, Courtney.” His voice was husky in her ear. He nibbled at her earlobe. “Shhh. It's okay."

  "Let me up."

  His arms tightened. “Be still. Just relax, darling."

  "I can't do this, Barry. Let me go."

  "No.” His long fingers slipped into her hair, cupping the back of her head. They began a gentle massage, moving in tiny circles. His lips brushed her forehead.

  "It's okay, Courtney. We'll just lie here and calm down a bit. Cry it out."

  Cry it out? Oh, God, she was blubbering. Mortification claimed her.

  "Let. Me. Go!” She struggled in earnest to break free of his hold. He refused to release her. She tried to work her elbow into his stomach, but he was ahead of her every move.

  "It's okay, Courtney. I think I understand."

  "I don't! Let me go!"

  "No, I won't.” He shifted. Her belly yielded to the hard ridge of his maleness. It was a dirty trick, one that definitely hit her below the belt.

  "I'll scream."

  He turned his head. “Do it in this ear. I'm already half-deaf in this one."

  "Fuck you, McWaters! Now let me up!"

  "I'd love to fuck you. I had high hopes of fucking you for about a minute and a half. Why don't we work toward that as our goal for the day, hmm?"

  She went limp beneath him. It was no use. He'd made up his mind to be mule-headed and once that happened, he didn't budge. He never had. She worked a hand free and swiped her wet cheeks. Damn, but what had made her start crying like some inexperienced, weak female? She was neither. The answer was right in front of her. She just didn't want to accept it for the truth.


  "Will you promise not to run away if I get off you?"

  She looked up into his earnest green eyes so full of concern and wanted to cry some more. How could he look at her like that?

  "I promise. Only don't move.” She slipped her arms around his neck. His head dropped to her shoulder.

  "Courtney, I can't start and stop and start again. My gears don't shift that fast all the time.” He rubbed his cheek against hers. “I've never been more sorry about that than I am now."

  She closed her eyes and hugged him. Some of his gears were still working fine. Her pubic bone felt bruised from him. His emotional gears were what needed a little adjusting. But then, so did hers. She poked her index finger into his ribs. He grunted and slid his weight off her, settling them more comfortably.

  "I guess you're pissed at me now. I come back in here and jump you and then call it off."

  He shook his head. “No, I'm not pissed. I should be. I might be if I didn't know you and have an inkling of what's wrong."

  "There's nothing wrong."

  "Okay, there's nothing wrong. Kiss me again, and then let me get back to work."

  She jumped. “Work! Oh my God! I have a client coming,” she hastily checked her watch. “In ten minutes!” She pushed at him. He allowed himself to roll off the sofa.

  Courtney leaped toward the door, snatching up her purse and keys. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

  She looked like she'd been doing just what she'd been in the middle of. Blast it!

  She dug her comb out of her purse and tried to repair the damage. It wasn't much use. Barry was suddenly behind her.

  "I'll call you in a couple of hours. We've got some unfinished business here, Courtney."

  He was right. She nodded her agreement and fled before he could touch her again. She glanced in the rearview mirror as she sped off. Barry was standing in the doorway, watching. She wanted to turn around and go back to him, but she couldn't. And not just because she had a client arriving at Desert Moon any second.

  She couldn't trust her traitorous heart.

  * * * *

  Barry watched from the doorway of his studio as Courtney drove away.

  "In a cloud of dust and a mighty hi-ho-Silver,” he muttered as the rear tires of her car squealed on the hot asphalt. He closed the door. Somehow, he needed to get some work done.

  The Elizabethtowne series was the most logical choice to work on. The backgrounds contained enough of the same colors that he could add elements without having to change brushes and colors. He set the first one up and began adding the bold strokes of the distant mountains.

  It was only by force of will that he managed to get the outline of the mountains on all seven canvases. His nerves refused to settle. Whether she accepted it fully or not, Courtney had taken a step toward being with him. The hope that had been nothing more than a tiny spark for all the years threatened to flare to life and consume him.

  He'd never tried to kid himself. He'd fallen in love with Courtney the first time he'd laid eyes on her. She'd never given him a glance back in those days. He was enough years younger than her that it mattered—back then. It had hurt every time she got a new boyfriend. It had almost killed him when she married Waynie-boy. He'd gone on a four-day binge, then sworn never to drink whiskey again.

  That was something else Waynie-boy needed a fist in the face over.

  Pacifism be damned. Sometimes a good wallop was the only thing another man could fully understand.

  The failed marriage had left Courtney shaken to her core. He'd seen the signs in other women before, lots of them. But this time, it was personal. This time, someone he cared deeply about was struggling to work through the past and get on with her life.

  Adrenaline had his hands shaking. It actually gave the mountains a unique quality, otherwise, he'd have given up before he ruined a canvas. But as soon as he'd put the last stroke on the mountains behind where The Maples would be on the canvas, he dropped his brush in cleaning solution and quit while he was ahead.

  On a whim, he called and made dinner reservations. He might end up eating alone but he'd take the chance.

  He'd settled down enough to concentrate. He zipped through his email, then returned two phone calls. It was almost four o'clock. Courtney's client was likely gone by now. He was reaching for the phone when someone knocked on the door.

  Barry opened the door to find his landlord standing there. Bad news had come calling.

  Chapter 10

  The red pickup was in the driveway when Courtney arrived at the Victorian a few minutes before five o'clock. She should have expected him to be there. The tension lurking at the base of her skull from an afternoon of trying to please a client who had no idea of what she wanted twisted tighter.

  The door of the carriage house was open. She parked her car and went looking for Barry. He was arranging several pieces of the assorted junk just inside the door.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Taking a few pictures.” He backed out the door, snapping off a shot with each backward step.

  "Why?"

  "It's a surprise for the homeowner."

  "You're going to give me a framed photo of the junk in my garage?"

  "If you want one.” He closed the door and snapped off a few more. He turned and snapped one of Courtney. She scowled at him, but said nothing. “How'd it go with the client?"

  She gusted out a long breath. “She's bringing her designer back with her tomorrow. She was a bit miffed that the Desert Moon print is no longer available."

  Barry snorted. “Give her a sweatshirt."

  "It's not the same, smartass."

  He grinned at her. The tension in her neck finally eased. She smiled back at him. He pulled her to him, kissing the top of her head.

  "Are you hungry, babe? I made dinner reservations but I can call and cancel if you're too tired."

  "Presumptuous, aren't you?” She relaxed against him, letting him steady her.

  "I'd like to call it prepared."

  "I'm starving. I missed lunch.” She lifted her head from his shoulder. “I have a few things I wanted to do here. What time is dinner?"

  "Seven. What's all that in the back of your car?"

  "Something for you to help carry in the house since you're here."

  "Okay, let me get this straight. I get to be your beast of burden and buy your dinner?"

  She looked into his sparkling green eyes. “You seem to want the job of looking out for me, pal."

  His eyes darkened. The way his eyes could change shades always amazed her. His hand drifted down to her rump.

  "I want the fringe benefits that go along with the job, too."

  Courtney hooked her finger through the front belt loop of his jeans and tugged. “We'll discuss the benefits, in detail, later. Right now, just take that big box up to my new bedroom. I'll be right behind you with the little box."

  Barry nodded and stowed his camera equipment in his truck. He hefted the larger box and trudged up the back steps with it. She followed behind him with the other. She reached past him to unlock the door. It was already open.

  "Where you inside?"

  "No. I don't have a key to your house."

  "Okay, okay. I'll get you a key."

  He walked in ahead of her and set his box down on the kitchen counter beside a new coffee maker. “You've been busy in here.

  "I gave in and called a cleaning company. They were here today. I guess they forgot to lock the door when they finished."

  Barry lifted his box and disappeared into the hallway. The stairs creaked as he climbed them. Courtney took a minute to walk through the downstairs. The cleaning company had done a wonderful job. Having the many layers of dust and grime removed down to the shine certainly helped show the house in all its faded glory. She walked into the formal parlor and looked out the window, listening to the sounds of the house.

  She could hear Barry walking across the floor upstairs then the sound of his footfalls as he came slowly bac
k down the stairs. Then there was silence. She sensed him watching her from the doorway.

  She'd thrummed with an awareness of him all afternoon. She'd been so distracted at the shop, she'd worried her client would become aware of it. The memory of his hands on her, of his weight pressing her down, had her in a constant state of semi-arousal. Finding him waiting for her didn't help ease it any.

  She didn't want it to ease.

  The silence stretched onward, luring her to cross some unseen threshold. They were here, together, in a moment outside of time. Her world was shifting, tilting toward a future she was afraid to embrace.

  To embrace it was to admit to so many past mistakes. To embrace it opened a door to a future that asked for a leap of faith. She didn't know if she had that in her any longer. Disappointment, and despair, had burned it out of her. She couldn't risk fanning the small spark that was all that remained of the girl she used to be. She couldn't risk burning out what was left.

  He finally walked up behind her.

  "That's, um, some bed up there."

  She leaned back against him. “I've wanted that bed for years. It wouldn't fit in my old bedroom."

  "There are sheets in the box."

  "I know, nosey. I put them in there."

  He wrapped his arms around her. It felt so good, she closed her eyes and let her head fall back on his shoulder. His embrace tightened.

  "Are you planning on sleeping here tonight?” His voice was low and husky in her ear.

  "Yes. I gave myself most of tomorrow off. I'm only going in to meet Ms. Harris. I plan on moving a few more necessities. I also have a few appliances being delivered tomorrow."

  He was quiet for such a long time, simply holding her, Courtney struggled not to fidget. As soon as his silence got the better of her, and she moved, the soft enchantment of just being close to him broke.

  "I'd better go get cleaned up for dinner, Court. I'll be back to pick you up about six-thirty."

  She turned in his arms. “We can call for delivery. There's a pizza place just about a mile from here."