Page 35 of Whispers of My Skin

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I wake engulfed in comforting warmth, and sigh contentedly as I stretch out in bed like a contented cat. I haven’t slept this well in forever, and right now I feel safe, protected, and peaceful.

Regretfully, this euphoria doesn’t last. Boy, recall sure is a bitch. My eyes fly open as everything comes flooding back to me.

What happened with Joel last night.

Or rather what I let happen, even though I knew he was involved with Cassandra, that bitch that he’s got pregnant. How on earth could I have forgotten about her and the baby? Joel and I might be married, but her carrying his baby certainly trumps that. Which makes me the other woman, not her. I am so stupid for allowing my lustful hormones to run amok. What have I gone and done?

Sold my soul to the devil, that’s what. I got carried away in the heat of the moment, and now I have to deal with the repercussions.

Joel murmurs softly behind me, then pulls me up tightly against him. I feel his massive morning wood prodding my back, and when his hands start wandering, I know where he thinks this is heading…

Uh-uh. Not happening. I ignore the heat already building in my lady parts. He can go find his beloved Casandra to take care of his needs. I refuse to get sucked in by him again, so he sure as hell isn’t getting anything else from me.

Still half asleep, he grumbles when I tug the sheet off and try to push him out of bed. When he doesn’t budge, I get even more frustrated with him.

Something more drastic is called for.

I’m on it.

Wrapping myself in the bed sheet—no way am I giving him a free eyeful—I head to the attached bathroom, returning with a glass of cold water, the entire contents of which I throw over his face.

That wakes him up quick enough. He sits bolt upright, disoriented and bewildered.

His confused eyes meet mine.

“What in the fuck…? What the hell did you do that for?” he yells.

Ooh, he looks mightily pissed off now. But I’m mightily pissed off too, you know?

“You get the hell out of my bed and keep on walking right out of my house. Right the hell now,” I say, snapping my fingers and pointing to the door.

“Tara, what’s wrong? I don’t understand… I thought we’d sorted things out…”

“Well, you thought wrong, lover boy,” I cut him off. “If you’re looking for someone to take care of that boner for you, I suggest you go find Cassandra. She can deal with your needs, which I don’t imagine will be a problem seeing as you got the slut pregnant. I’ll manage the ranch on my own from now on. I don’t need you here complicating things, I don’t know why I ever thought it was a good idea to come looking for you.”

“You know why you did.”

“Call it a momentary lapse of judgment. Or perhaps I’m just plain stupid.”

“No, you came and found me because you still have faith in me,” he argues. “You never stopped loving me, and you never will. I’m right, aren’t I?”

My mouth pops open at his arrogant assertion, then slams shut again. Damn he’s right, but that only makes things worse.

We stay here staring each other in silence, both stubborn, determined. And broken.

Joel looks defeated but determined.

“Look, if you really want me to leave, I’ll go, but first we need to talk, get a few things cleared up once and for all,” he continues in his calm, horse-whisperer voice. No wonder those horses will do anything he commands of them. But I’m not one of his skittish mares and he has no right making any kind of demands from me.

“Grant me that much at least, Tara,” he cajoles persuasively. “Just give me a few minutes of your time, then if you still want me to leave, I promise I’ll get out of your life, and leave you in peace, if that’s what you still want. Plus I’ll sign any divorce papers with no argument. That’s not unreasonable, is it, in exchange for just a few minutes of your time?”

I shouldn’t trust him, I know I shouldn’t. Yet I still find myself nodding my compliance.

“I’ll give you some space to get dressed. I’ll wait for you in the kitchen,” he murmurs as picks up his jeans and grey Henley from the floor, quickly shrugs them on, then heads out.

With my mind in complete turmoil, I wander into the bathroom, dropping the sheet covering my body to study myself in the mirror. I look a total wreck. No way can Joel can find me attractive, so this whole business has to be a ruse on his part to get the ranch. It’s not just my messy hair or swollen lips, not just the ugly bruises on my arms and my face. It’s more than just these superficial wounds. I look as if I’ve aged at least fifteen years, and I know it’s not just down to worry.

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