Dream a Little Dream (Chicago Stars, #4)(35)

He didn’t remember moving, but the next thing he knew, she was in his arms and he felt her body beneath his palms. She was thin and frail, but not broken the way he was. He wanted to protect her and f*ck her and comfort her and destroy her all at once. The chaos of his emotions coiled around his pain, deepening the agony.


She sank her fingers into the muscles of his upper arm, digging them in, hurting. He gripped her bottom and hauled her against him. He brushed his lips over hers. They were soft and sweet. He jerked his head back.

“I want you,” he said.

Her head moved, and he realized she’d nodded. Her easy acquiescence infuriated him. He clasped her chin and hauled it up so that he was staring down into those tortured green eyes.

“Once again the noble Widow Snopes sacrifices herself for her child,” he spat out. “Well, forget it.”

She regarded him stonily as he released her. He grabbed the shovel and set to work clearing the road. He’d said he wouldn’t do this to her again. After that dark night of his soul when he’d tried to destroy her, he’d promised himself he’d never touch her again.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be a sacrifice.”

He stopped moving. “What are you talking about?”

She shrugged. “That killer body of yours. I couldn’t help but notice.”

“Don’t do this, Rachel. Don’t keep trying to protect yourself by being a wiseass. Just say what you mean.”

The bottom lip of that ripe little strawberry mouth trembled, but she was too tough to give into it. Her small breasts rose beneath the bodice of that awful dress as she took a breath. “Maybe I need to know what it’s like to be with a man who isn’t interested in having a saint in his bed.”

So that was it.

“I’m twenty-seven years old, and I’ve only been with one man. He never even gave me an orgasm. Pretty funny, huh.”

He didn’t feel like laughing. Instead, he felt an illogical anger. “Now you want to go exploring, is that it? I’m supposed to be the guinea pig in your sexual development?”

Her redhead’s temper sparked. “You’re the one who came on to me, buster!”

“Momentary insanity.”

He watched her marshal her forces to attack and wasn’t surprised when she came up with her most obnoxious, simpery smile. “Gee, I hope not. As long as the room is dark and you don’t talk, I could pretend you’re someone else. It might be fun having my personal stud.”

All the anger left him as abruptly as it had come. Good for her. She was a piece of work, determined not to give an inch, and for no reason he could think of beyond the fact that he hadn’t hurt her after all, his mood lifted.

He tossed the shovel in the back of the truck. Later, he’d return and remove the charred wood. “Let’s go.”



Russ Scudder watched the headlights move away as Gabe Bonner’s truck headed toward the Glide cottage.

“He was kissing her,” Donny Bragelman said, shifting at his side.

“Yeah, I saw.”

Both men sat in the grove of trees, thirty yards back from the road, too far to hear what Gabe and the Widow Snopes had been discussing, but close enough to have caught a few glimpses of what they were doing when they’d stepped in front of the headlights.

After Russ had set fire to the cross, he and Donny had hidden to watch it burn while they drank their second six-pack of the night. They’d just about been ready to leave when Gabe’s truck had pulled up, and they’d had the satisfaction of seeing how upset Rachel Snopes had been.

“She’s a slut,” Russ said. “I knew she was a slut first time I met her.”

He didn’t know any such thing. In his days working security at the Temple, he’d mainly seen her with her kid. She’d always been nice to him, and he’d even liked her. But that was before it had all fallen apart.

At the beginning, everything had been great for Russ. The man who was in charge of security at the Temple had hired Russ to be his second-in-command. As Russ had guarded G. Dwayne and supervised building security, he’d felt as if he were finally doing something important, and the people of Salvation had stopped looking at him as if he was a loser.

But when G. Dwayne had fallen, he’d taken Russ down with him. Nobody would hire him because he’d been associated with the Temple, but Russ had family here, and he couldn’t move away, so he was stuck. Eventually, his wife kicked him out—these days she barely even let him see his kid—and his life had turned to shit.

“Boy, I guess we showed her,” Donny said.

Donny Bragelman was the only friend Russ had left, and he was a bigger loser than Russ. Donny had a habit of laughing at the wrong times and grabbing his crotch in public, but he had a regular job at the Amoco, and Russ could borrow money from him. He could also talk Donny into just about anything, including helping him with the cross tonight.

Russ wanted Rachel Snopes out of here, and he hoped the sight of that burned cross would scare her away. She’d been a big part of what had happened at the Temple, and he couldn’t stand having her come back as if she hadn’t done anything wrong, not after what had happened to Russ. The fact that Gabe Bonner had given her Russ’s old job had been the final straw. For the last week, he hadn’t been able to think of anything else.