The touch of his lips made her insides flutter. Her censure melted as quickly as ice cream in August. “I didn’t mean to scold. I just wondered why, after all this time, you came to me tonight.”
“I wanted to.” She knew that to Junior’s mind, that was reason enough. He sprawled on the sofa and pulled her down beside him. “No, leave the lamp off,” he told her when she reached for the switch. “Let’s just sit here and drink our cocoa together.”
“I heard about the trouble out at the ranch,” she said after a quiet moment.
“It’s all cleaned up now. Can’t tell it ever happened. It could have been a lot worse.”
She touched him hesitantly. “You could have been hurt.”
He set his empty cup on the coffee table and sighed. “You’re still concerned for my safety?”
“Always.”
“No one’s ever been as sweet to me as you, Stacey. I’ve missed you.” He reached for her hand and pressed it between his.
“You look worn out and troubled.”
“I am.”
“Over the vandalism?”
“No.” He slumped deeper into the cushions of the couch and rested his head on the back of it. “This mess we’re in about Celina’s murder. It’s depressing as hell.” He tilted his head until it was lying on her shoulder. “Hmm, you smell good. It’s a smell I’ve missed. So clean.” He nuzzled her neck.
“What bothers you so much about this investigation?”
“Nothing specific. It’s Alex. She and Mother had a row today. Mother let it slip that Celina got knocked up and had to get married to her soldier. It wasn’t a pretty scene.”
His arm slid around her waist. Automatically, Stacey lifted her hands to cradle his cheek and pressed his head against her breasts.
“I lied to her,” she confessed in a small voice. “A lie of omission.”
Junior mumbled with disinterest.
“I never told her I was in the barn the day Celina was killed.”
“How come you did that?”
“I didn’t want her hounding me with questions. I hate her for causing you trouble again, Junior.”
“Alex can’t help it. It’s not her fault.”
It was a familiar refrain, one that set Stacey’s teeth on edge. Junior had often said the same thing about Celina. No matter how shabbily she treated him, he had never spoken a harsh, critical word against her.
“I hate this girl of Celina’s as much as I did her,” Stacey whispered.
The alcohol and strong Mexican grass had dulled Junior’s thinking. “Never mind all that now. This feels good, doesn’t it?” he murmured as his lips followed his hand inside her robe to her breast. His damp tongue glanced her nipple. “You always liked for me to do that.”
“I still do.”
“Really? And this? Do you still like this?” he asked, sucking her nipple into his mouth and pushing his hand into the furry, damp warmth between her thighs.
She groaned his name.
“I’ll understand if you don’t want me to.” He pulled away slightly.
“No,” she said quickly, guiding his head back down and clenching her thighs closed around his hand. “I do want you to. Please.”
“Stacey, Stacey, your tender loving care is just what I need tonight. I could always count on you to make me feel better.” He raised his head from her breast and gave her mouth a long, slow, thorough kiss. “Remember what always made me feel better than anything?” he asked, his lips resting on hers.