Judy Duarte

A Baby Under the Tree


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about to lessen or cheapen it.

      Those magical hours spent in her bed had been a once-in-a-lifetime experience, one he’d been reluctant to end.

      As dawn had threatened to break over Houston, he’d drawn her close to his chest and savored the fragrance of her shampoo, the faint floral whiff of her perfume.

      She’d slept with her bottom nestled in his lap, and he’d felt himself stirring, rising to the occasion—again. But even if they hadn’t gone through the only condom they’d had during the night, time hadn’t been on his side.

      As he’d glanced through an opening in the heavy curtains and seen the night fading into dawn, he’d carefully slid his arm from under her head, trying his best not to wake her. Because a cowboy didn’t call in sick, especially if the only excuse he had was a beautiful woman in his bed. So he’d snatched his wrinkled shirt and jeans from the floor.

      He’d found himself dragging his feet, not wanting to go, not ready to end what they’d shared.

      Why had it felt as though they’d created some kind of invisible bond, some reason for him to linger?

      Probably because their lovemaking had been so good. That had to be it.

      Besides, Shane wasn’t ready for a relationship. And he wasn’t sure if he ever would be again.

      So he’d quickly gotten dressed, wishing he could think of a better way to say goodbye. But he hadn’t been able to come up with anything that wouldn’t have created some kind of promise he couldn’t keep. And that wouldn’t have been fair to her.

      Not that he didn’t want to see her again. But they had very little in common, and their lives were headed in different directions.

      His only regret had been slipping out of her bed at nearly five in the morning and leaving a note, which might have cheapened the whole thing.

      Last night was amazing, he’d written. You were a gift I didn’t deserve, and one I’ll always cherish.

      And while he’d struggled to choose the right words, he’d meant every one of them.

      He supposed he could try to find her again. His detective skills and his connections wouldn’t make it too hard. But Jillian wasn’t the kind of woman who’d fit into Shane’s life, whether it was in Houston or Brighton Valley.

      He’d already gone through one star-crossed relationship that he shouldn’t have let get off the ground, and he’d lost his son because of it.

      No, he’d just have to let well enough alone. After all, if something between them was meant to be, then he’d run into her again. No need for him to chase after something that was sure to crash and burn.

      But that didn’t mean he wasn’t sorely tempted to look her up in Houston. He’d love to spend one more night together.

      They might end the evening in a blaze of glory, but what a way to go…?.

      Chapter Three

      In spite of knowing their time together had been a one-shot deal, Shane hadn’t been able to get Jillian out of his mind.

      Several times he’d actually thought seriously about looking her up in Houston. She hadn’t given him a lot to go on, but he still had a few contacts at the police department who’d be able to help him out. Yet when push came to shove, he’d decided to let well enough alone.

      That is, until he was urged to attend his niece’s first communion in Houston on Sunday morning. After he’d missed Billy’s birthday party a while back and created such a stir within the family, he’d decided to make a showing this time, even though he’d rather be anywhere than in a church on Sunday morning, especially if it required a confession.

      It’s not that he had some huge sin hanging over his head, but he wasn’t ready to make things right with God when he still blamed the Big Guy Upstairs for allowing Joey to die. But he supposed he’d deal with that tomorrow morning.

      Right now, he was headed to the city a day early, determined to see Jillian while he was there. Through his connections, he’d gotten her address just minutes ago: 237 Bluebonnet Court, apartment 16.

      It had been exactly six weeks and a day since they’d met that magical evening in Houston, but the memory was still as strong and vivid as if it had only been yesterday.

      After they’d split the bill that evening, Shane had insisted on being the one to leave a generous tip for the wait staff. Then he’d walked with her to The Rio, the hotel lounge that provided music and high-priced drinks to some of Houston’s more exclusive crowd.

      Shane wasn’t used to hanging out at places like that, and he knew he’d been underdressed, but he’d been with Jillian, who belonged to that world.

      “The music sounds good,” she’d said.

      At that point, being with her would make anything sound good. But she’d been right. The band was great.

      As they’d made their way toward an empty table near the dance floor, Shane had placed his hand on the small of her back, claiming her in front of all the rich, fancy folks who’d gathered for an after-dinner drink.

      She’d leaned against him and slid her arm around his waist in a move that seemed so natural, so right, that he wanted to hang on tight and never let go.

      Then the music, something soft and slow, began to play and he hadn’t been able to do anything other than to pull her into his embrace and dance cheek to cheek. As they’d swayed to a love song, as he’d inhaled her tropical scent, she’d melded into him as though they’d been made to dance with each other for the rest of their lives.

      Something powerful had surged between them, something hot, soul stirring and arousing.

      He’d taken her hand and brushed his lips across her wrist. As she’d looked at him, her lips parting, she’d gripped his shoulder as though her knees would have buckled if she hadn’t.

      And that’s when he’d kissed her. Right there in the middle of that crowded dance floor.

      As their lips parted, his tongue had sought hers, and they were swept away to some carnal place, where the music stopped and the room grew silent. At least, he could have sworn it had happened that way.

      For a moment, he’d forgotten where they were, who they were. All he’d been aware of was a raging desire that promised to bring about something he’d never experienced before.

      Then the music really did stop, and he’d come to his senses, albeit reluctantly. As he broke the kiss, he’d continued to hold Jillian tight, and with his lips resting near her temple, he’d confessed, “I don’t normally do things like this.”

      “Neither do I.”

      As they’d slowly stepped apart, she’d closed her eyes and, after taking a deep breath, said, “I…uh…have a room upstairs.”

      Shane hadn’t been sure he’d heard right or if he’d somehow come to the wrong conclusion, so he’d waited a beat, hoping she’d spell it out for him. Then she did just that by taking his hand and leading him out of The Rio and to the elevators.

      As the memory rolled on, just as it did each time a specific clip from that night began to play in his mind, he tried his best to shake it off. But damn. What an amazing evening that had been.

      If truth be told, he’d been more than a little sorry that it had ended before he’d gotten a chance to see if a long-distance relationship between two people with nothing in common but great sex could actually work.

      Now, as he gripped the steering wheel of his pickup and watched the street signs for Bluebonnet Court, the heated memory still remained front and center in his mind.

      Of course, seeing her again didn’t mean he was interested in starting a relationship. It was just a matter of satisfying his curiosity.

      Would Jillian be glad