by A. J. Pine
“Evening, miss,” he said as if he’d happened upon a stargazing stranger.
Jenna pushed herself up onto her elbows and met his gaze with a sweet smile.
“Evening yourself, Mr.…Morgan, is it?” she said, playing along.
He strode closer and saw two unopened bottles of beer perched next to her in the grass. Looked like he hadn’t been completely off base on what she’d been doing while she waited for him.
Funny how he seemed to know her so well after such a short time.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked when he reached the edge of the blanket.
She stood up and brushed off her skirt. For a second he lamented losing sight of the skin on her torso he so longed to touch, but then she moved closer, and he could smell the scent of fresh-cut grass mixed with something sweet, like she’d just walked out of a bakery.
He wanted to kiss her and take a bite out of her all at the same time.
“I’d love the company,” she said softly. “But I’m expecting my guy any minute, and if he finds you here, I’m not sure what will happen.”
She snaked her arms around his neck, and his stomach tightened.
My guy. He was hers, if only for another week. But she’d staked her claim, and he wasn’t about to argue.
This woman.
“I could tell you what would happen,” he said, his voice a low rumble against the chirping crickets hiding in the grass. “He’d lose his damned mind thinking about you with anyone else.”
He could see her cheeks flush in the moonlight.
“Would he do something foolish?” she asked, and he set his hands on her hips, pressed his fingers into the soft skin that lay beneath the thin fabric of her skirt.
He nodded. “Probably.”
She batted her lashes at him, and he was pretty much a goner.
“Start a fight, maybe?” she asked. “Defend my honor?”
She was kidding. He knew. But he also knew it was partly a test. She was still apprehensive about trusting him, and he didn’t blame her. Not after the way the last guy had treated her. And even though he’d never raised a fist after an incident with his foster brother when he was a teen, if there was anyone he’d want to pummel, it would be the man who dared to hurt Jenna. But he wasn’t going to be that guy.
“No. Not a fight,” he said. “Something more civil. Like maybe a dance-off.”
Jenna kept it together for maybe a millisecond after that before totally and completely losing it.
She doubled over, laughing hysterically, her hands pressed against her belly.
Colt crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.
“What?” she asked when she finally straightened and collected herself.
“You don’t think I could win a dance-off?” he asked, kidding, of course. But his ego still wanted the win.
She set her hands on her hips and looked him up and down. “I have no doubt you could cut a rug or two,” she said. “But you have to admit it’s a pretty funny thought, you dancing to win my favor.”
He shrugged. “If that’s what it took…”
She laughed again, but at least this time she wasn’t doubled over in hysterics.
“I’ll tell you what,” she said. “Can I make a request—just in case it ever comes to that?”
Okay, now he was getting a little nervous. He could hold his own when Casey had line-dancing nights at Midtown. It was an excellent way to meet tourists who might want to meet a cowboy. But a request?
“Where, exactly, is this going?” he asked.
“Have you ever seen the movie Ten Things I Hate About You?”
He shook his head, and she rolled her eyes and groaned. “Of course not, because it’s more than twenty years old, and you were a child when it came out. Well, if you ever need to win my favor via song and dance—”
“Wait,” he said. “Now I’m singing?” Some lines he didn’t cross, and that sure as hell was one of them.
“If you want to win my favor…” she continued. “Then you’ll do so just like Patrick does in the scene where Kat’s at soccer practice and he sings ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You’ to her while dancing in the bleachers.”
His mouth fell open.
“With the school band,” she added.
He hooked his index finger into the elastic waist of her skirt and sighed.
“So it’s settled,” he said. “To avoid any need for a battle to win your favor, I better not mess this up.”
He grinned, but his stomach was tied in knots. They were suddenly talking like this wasn’t a fling anymore. Colt knew without a doubt he felt something for Jenna—something bigger than he could wrap his head around at the moment.
Did she?
She shook her head, and he had to remind himself that she couldn’t read his thoughts, that she was simply answering his question. For a second her smile faltered. But she pasted it back on as quickly as it had disappeared.
“Can we—” she started.
“Open those beers and pretend this day never happened?” he said, finishing her sentence. He could tell she was fighting some sort of battle in her head, and he wanted to give her time to think. “Because I’ll drink to that. Thank you, by the way, for spending time with Delaney so Sam could get some rest. I heard she got to go home this evening.”
Jenna grabbed the beers and unscrewed one, handing it to him before popping the top off of hers and taking a long swig.
“Spending time with Delaney is as much to my benefit as it is to hers. Probably more so. She’s amazing,” Jenna said. “So strong. And so caring. I swear I feel like I’ve known her all my life.”
Colt nodded. “Sam’s a lucky man. He got the whole package with her.”
There it was again, something like a wince in Jenna’s expression, but again it vanished before he was sure it was even there.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, not sure if he was imagining things or not.
She nodded. “Other than you not having kissed me yet.”
He laughed. She was right. The something-that-wasn’t-right about this scenario was that his lips still hadn’t touched hers.
“Well, Ms. Owens. Where are my manners?” he asked, wrapping one arm around her waist and the one that held the bottle of beer around her neck.
She followed suit, hooking both of hers over his hips, and he tugged her close.
“My apologies,” he said.
“Forgiven,” she responded, then rose onto her toes and pressed her lips to his.
Gone was the stress of his sixteen-hour day, of him worrying—not that he’d have told the already stressed Sam—about Delaney and the baby, of him wondering if this thing with Jenna was as real as it was starting to feel. When he kissed her, tasted her, felt her in his arms, everything else just fell into place. This was real. For him, at least.
“I baked,” she said against his lips, and he could feel her smile.
He tilted his head back to meet her eyes. “You what? When? Where?” Although that would explain why she smelled good enough to eat.
She winced again, but this time it was for real.
“Tonight. Here. I maybe found your sister on Facebook and sent her a direct message asking her for her toffee shortbread recipe. I wanted to surprise you after a long day, but I’m just now realizing how I might have overstepped or violated your privacy. I mean, if you’d have contacted my family…Although I guess you already have since you know Jack. What I mean is maybe I should have waited, asked you first, and—”
He shut down her second-guessing with another kiss.
“Are you telling me there are toffee shortbread cookies in that kitchen?” he asked, glancing back toward Trudy’s house.
Jenna nodded.
“And that you and Willow connected?”
She nodded again. “She actually has a gig in Sacramento on Wednesday night. Some other event—a play or something—canceled and they needed to fill the time slot. Anyway, it’s a free show, and it’s your sister. Plus
Sacramento is only a few hours away.”
“I know,” he said with a grin. “She texted me today so I could make sure I had that night off. As long as Delaney is home safe, I think I can swing it—if you want to go together.”
She smiled back at him, big and beautiful and knocking the air right out of his lungs.
“Are you asking me on a date, Colt? To meet your sister? One that includes a road trip? Because we’ve been on a road trip before…” she teased.
What was it about the way she said his name that drove him mad—in the best possible way? Maybe it was the way her accent made it sound like she was singing it. Or maybe it was that it felt as new and unexpected as she did.
Or maybe it was simply her.
“Yes,” he said. “To all of those things. Jenna Owens, will you take another road trip with me?”
An hour later, there were four empty beer bottles on the blanket along with a plate containing nothing more than cookie crumbs.
She’d nailed Willow’s recipe.
“I’m really going to have to feed you a proper meal one of these days,” he said. “And as good as Luis is, something from the dining hall doesn’t exactly count. That’s included in your stay no matter what.”
They both lay on their backs staring up at the sky.
“Why?” she asked, burrowing into the nook between his neck and shoulder. “I’m perfectly happy on a diet of cookies and ice cream from here on out.”
He laughed. “In Sacramento,” he said. “I’m buying you real food in Sacramento. Something that will check an item off your list—eating food from a country you’ve always wanted to visit.”
Her cheeks turned pink again.
“You remember everything on the list?”
He shrugged. “I remember everything that’s important.”
Her cheeks turned pink again. There. He’d all but said she was important, and she wasn’t running for the hills.
He rubbed his hand up and down her shoulder, feeling goose bumps pebbling her skin.
“You’re cold,” he said, stating the obvious, though it was still balmy outside, even without the sun.
“Not exactly,” Jenna said, and she rolled on her side to face him. “It’s more like you. Us. This place. Falling in love with the magic of Meadow Valley just like Delaney said I would.”
“I’m falling…” he started but then caught himself. Jesus, he’d almost said he was falling in love with her, too, until her words clicked halfway through his almost admission.
“What?” Jenna asked.
“Huh?” he said, playing dumb.
She raised her brows. “I just told you I was in love with this town. And you started to say something but stopped.”
He focused his gaze on a star that was so bright he wondered if it was a nearby planet. He half wished he were there, a world away where he hadn’t almost just told her he was falling in love with her.
Think, Morgan.
He cleared his throat. “I’m falling asleep,” he finally said. “Sorry. Long day.”
He was an ass for not simply telling her the truth. But it had been ingrained in his memory for far too long that the truth often hurt, and it was too soon to risk putting himself out there like that.
“Oh,” Jenna said, sitting up. “Right. Sorry. I should let you go. I didn’t mean to keep you out so late after the day you’ve had.”
He wanted to ask her about her day, about Delaney and Willow and taking care of Trudy’s animals, but instead he’d just backed himself into a corner because he was a first-rate a-hole. He already felt like he owed her that dance and serenade. His only saving grace was that she had no clue.
He sat up, too, brushed her hair behind her ear, and tilted his forehead against hers.
Then it clicked.
“Want to sleep outside under the stars?” he asked. “It is on the list, and I’m sure Trudy has some blankets or sleeping bags we can borrow for the night.”
She sucked in a breath, and the biggest, most beautiful grin lit up her face.
“I’d love to. But I have a barrel jumping lesson with Barbara Ann first thing in the morning, so I might have to sneak away before you wake up. Did you know she used to compete when she was a kid?”
“I didn’t have a clue,” he said. “We just let her teach those lessons and hope she doesn’t hurt herself or any of the guests.”
Jenna pushed his shoulder, and he caught her wrist in his hand and her lips with his own.
He kissed her long and slow, taking his fill because as much as he’d been saving face before, he knew that once they made up their outdoor bed, he’d lose consciousness the second his head hit the pillow.
And with every brush of his lips against hers, he fell a little faster. And deeper. And he realized he might not ever get his fill of Jenna Owens.
She wasn’t kidding when she’d said first thing in the morning. Colt woke shortly after eight o’clock, and she’d been long gone. But the imprint of her body on the picnic blanket—next to her neatly rolled-up sleeping bag—was all the evidence he needed to know last night had been real.
He cleaned up the rest of their mess and headed back to his room at the ranch. As soon as he walked in the door, he headed toward the kitchen where he smelled fresh-brewed coffee. Next to an insulated carafe—that she’d likely borrowed from Luis—on the counter was a note that said, Look in the fridge.
He opened the refrigerator to find a glass container of fresh fruit next to another of what he guessed was yogurt. On the shelf in the fridge was another note.
Now look in the microwave.
He laughed, spun back to the counter, and opened the microwave door. Inside was a plate filled with breakfast potatoes and what he recognized as Luis’s breakfast frittata. And of course attached to the plate was yet another note.
Something more than sweets. Luis said no more than forty-five seconds or the eggs will turn to rubber. Now go check the mirror in the bathroom. Last one. Promise.
He grabbed a cold potato and tossed it into his mouth, the savory taste making his mouth water for more.
Then he made his way to the bathroom, where the final note was posted on the mirror.
Sam’s on duty tonight, so I offered to spend the night with Delaney since she’s stuck either in bed or on the couch. Meet you back here at around 10:30 or 11?
She’d drawn an arrow pointing toward the left. He laughed out loud when he followed the arrow to find not only his bathtub, which he knew would be there, but the box of condoms she’d brought over the other night sitting right in the middle of said bathtub.
She’d broken into his place again—and taken care of him like he mattered as much to her as she did to him.
That was it. She couldn’t ever leave Meadow Valley, not for good. Whatever was happening here was the real deal, and he would be one hell of a fool to let her go home without telling her as much.
Sacramento. The road trip. It would be perfect. It was how they’d met, so it should be how he told her that he was all in, ready to risk his heart on the woman he knew couldn’t possibly stomp it to dust.
Chapter Eighteen
Jenna sat with a goat in her lap and watched Lucy peck her way across the lawn.
“She really loves it here,” a man said from behind her.
She twisted to see Dr. Eli Murphy, the local vet who volunteered his time at Delaney’s rescue shelter a couple of times a week. A shock of his dark brown, almost black hair flopped onto his forehead and he pushed it out of the way.
“Yeah,” Jenna said. “Lucy’s really taken to the goats.” The one in her lap—she wasn’t sure if it was Billy or William, as Delaney had named them—took off after the chicken, only for Lucy to stop mid-henpeck, turn around, and squawk at her pursuer, who then fell paralyzed onto his side.
She laughed and stood up, brushing grass from the backs of her thighs.
“I thought Delaney was coming by today,” Jenna said. The doctor had okayed her to spend time at the shelter pr
ovided it was from the seat of a wheelchair with her legs elevated. Sam was supposed to drive her over this morning before Jenna and Colt left for Sacramento.
Eli blinked, his blue-green eyes looking concerned. “Just got off the phone with Sam,” he said. “She’s not feeling up to it. Said she wants to stay home and rest.”
Jenna’s heart sank.
“It’s not labor,” Eli said, reading her mind. “At least, it doesn’t sound like it. Just some heartburn and some uncomfortable swelling in the feet and ankles.”
Jenna winced. “Must be worse than usual.” At least she had those weird cuff thingies to keep the blood flowing while she had her feet up. “Sad to miss her but happy she’s okay.”
Eli nodded toward Lucy, who was circling the seemingly dead goat. Poor guy. As soon as he was able to stand back up, she’d probably squawk and paralyze him again.
“She still laying eggs?” he asked.
“Lucy?” Jenna said. “No. She’s just a pet now. Though most of the time I’m pretty sure I belong to her more than the other way around.”
She figured that might get a laugh from Dr. Murphy, but no such luck. He was a bit of a brooder, which was understandable with the man having lost his wife barely two years ago after a horseback riding accident. Still, Jenna tried to get a smile out of him, hoping that somewhere he still found things to smile about.
“I see,” he said. “Not sure if Delaney told you, but I run the clinic off a small sustainable farm. Been thinking of a way to repurpose the stable now that the horses are gone, and I was thinking about hens. Hate to admit that as much as I know about caring for animals, I don’t know much about the egg production time line and such. Think you could take a look at the place and let me know if it’s feasible?”
Jenna’s eyes brightened. “I’d love to. Can Lucy come too? There’s no better judge of a space befitting a hen than a hen herself.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. Still not exactly a smile, but Jenna would take it as a small win.
“What day is good for you?” he asked.
She pursed her lips. “Colt and I are leaving for Sacramento after lunch.” Then she gasped when she realized she only had two days left in Meadow Valley. “Oh wow,” she added. “I fly back home on Saturday morning. How about Friday? How far is the drive?”