A Brambleberry Summer

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A Brambleberry Summer Page 20

by RaeAnne Thayne


  She suddenly felt awkward and silly and...too young. But she said her piece anyway. “I just need to lay out the ground rules, so we both know where we stand.”

  One side of his sinfully sexy mouth quirked up in amusement. “There are ground rules?”

  She gave him a firm nod. “Yes, there are. This, tonight, is a special circumstance.”

  “Very special,” he agreed, those beautiful eyes gleaming at her, promising all manner of heavenly delights.

  “Well, that may be. But I meant special as in a onetime deal. Tomorrow, I head home to Billings.”

  “You mentioned that already.”

  “And it bears repeating. I live in Billings, and your life is here. And in future, when I come back again to visit my family and you and I happen to see each other somehow in passing, we will not stop. We will not give each other more than a nod and a simple hello. We will never discuss what happened here tonight. No digits will be exchanged. Neither of us will try to contact the other. This is ‘The Night That Never Happened’—” Yes, she actually air-quoted it for emphasis. “—and we need to agree that it is.”

  His burnished eyebrows drew together in a doubtful sort of frown.

  She barreled on. “Which, er, won’t be a problem for you because you don’t do relationships.”

  “Vanessa, I never said—”

  “Wait.” She put up a hand. “I won’t get in touch again because that would make you think I want a relationship, which I don’t. As for you, well, you won’t contact me because, um, you’re Jameson John and you don’t do commitment.”

  His frown had deepened. “Hey, now. Hold on a minute. I do plan to have a relationship that lasts. I want a family, children.”

  “Sure you do,” she teased. “Someday, right?”

  “That’s not fair.” He really seemed troubled, somehow, by this subject.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, and meant it. “Sometimes I get a little carried away trying to make a point. I didn’t mean to insult you, Jameson.”

  “You didn’t. It’s just, well, yeah. Maybe I was that guy you’re describing. But I’m not anymore. You like players and, back at Wild Willa’s, I wanted to be whatever you needed tonight. But I’m not that guy, Vanessa, not the thoughtless boy you remember from high school. I’ve been married and divorced. I’m settled down now, a grown-ass man. I’m ready for something more than just one night.”

  Her heart kind of melted—but come on. She’d just been dumped. A new relationship wasn’t even on the table right now and she needed to make that crystal clear. She gazed up at him defiantly. “Well, I’m not ready for anything but tonight.”

  He stared down at her long and hard. Was this it, then? Would he walk her back out to her car and say good-night? She braced herself for that.

  But then he shook his head. “I do want you, Vanessa. A lot. And if tonight is all I’m getting, so be it.”

  She drilled her point home. “After this, there will be no contact. You and me, we won’t be happening again.”

  He caught her hand and pulled her close. “Fair enough.”

  “Jameson,” she whispered, pressing her palms to his hard chest as his mouth touched hers.

  Oh, he was perfect. Exactly what she needed. This beautiful man to ring in a whole new year, to make her feel gorgeous and wanted for one perfect night. She slid her hungry hands up to encircle his neck.

  When he lifted his head, she opened her eyes. They gazed at each other. “Agreed?” she asked again.

  His eyes spoke of reluctance to go along with her terms. She shouldn’t allow herself to feel thrilled at the idea that he might hope for more. Yet she did feel thrilled. Just a little.

  Finally, he acquiesced. “I agree. Tonight and that’s all.”

  Gathering her close again, he shut the door to the hallway with the heel of his boot.

  * * *

  Much later, when Vanessa woke beside Jameson in his big, comfy bed, it was still dark out. The bedside clock showed ten past three.

  A whole new year had begun—and boy, did Jameson John know how to give a girl a really good time. For several dreamy seconds, Van stared at him through the shadows. He lay on his back, sound asleep. Looking at his chiseled profile, she could almost wish that she didn’t have to go.

  But they had an agreement. And she intended to keep it.

  Carefully, so as not to wake him, she slid out from under the thick down comforter and tiptoed around the room gathering up her clothes. In the bathroom, she dressed and finger-combed her tangled hair.

  Then, carrying her boots in order not to make a sound, she crept along the short hallway and across the great room to get her purse from where she’d left it on the kitchen stool.

  Her contacts were extended wear, but still her eyes felt gritty and tired. She switched to her glasses—the ones with the large, black frames.

  At the bottom of her bag, she found the small notebook and a blue Flair pen she always carried with her. Tearing out a page, she wrote a brief note.

  Leaving the note on the island, she headed for the entry, where she paused long enough to put on her warm coat. The front door opened silently on well-oiled hinges when she carefully pulled it wide.

  Outside, the sky had cleared, and a light rime of snow made the ground glitter as though scattered with tiny diamonds. She paused on the step to breathe in the fresh, icy air.

  And then, with a secret smile on her face and a lightness in her step, she turned for her Subaru.

  * * *

  Jameson woke alone to pale sunlight—a clear winter morning.

  When he reached out a hand, the other side of the bed felt cold to the touch. He stared up through the skylight at the pale, cloudless sky and hated that Vanessa had already left him.

  Rising, he pulled on last night’s jeans and went out to the kitchen area to brew some coffee. He found her note waiting on the counter.

  Jameson,

  I just want to say that you are incredible. Thank you for a perfect New Year’s.

  Yours,

  Vanessa

  Two sentences bracketed with his name and hers.

  That’s all he got.

  As he crumpled the scrap of paper in his fist, he weighed the pros and cons of breaking her damn rules—right now, today. She wouldn’t have left town yet. He could probably track her down at Evan’s house or her mother’s place on the Bronco Valley side of town.

  But he’d given his word not to go after her. He’d promised to walk on by any time he happened to see her again. Plus, she lived in Billings, while he loved Bronco and the Double J. He never planned to live anywhere else.

  Beyond all that, maybe she was right. She’d insisted she wasn’t in the market for a relationship. And the last thing he needed was to fall for another woman who couldn’t honestly, openly give him her heart—even a woman as surprising and sexy and smart and charming as Vanessa Cruise.

  Jameson drank his coffee, fried bacon and scrambled some eggs. After breakfast, he went out to meet his brothers, Maddox and Dawson. Together, they rounded up some frisky heifers who’d busted through a fence and wandered out onto the state highway. That evening, he had dinner with the family at the main house.

  And New Year’s night, in bed alone, he stared up into the darkness and tried to picture Vanessa at home in Billings, lying in her own bed, maybe smiling a little, remembering the night before. Faintly, he smelled roses. He grabbed her pillow and pressed it to his face. Breathing in the scent of her like some sappy lovesick fool, he reconsidered the idea of going after her.

  But he did no such thing. She didn’t want to see him again and he’d given her his word he wouldn’t track her down. Jameson John always kept his word.

  Eventually, he promised himself, the desire to go after her would fade.

  Copyright © 2021 by Harlequin Books S.A.

  mi
llsandboon.com.au/survey2020

  IMPRINT: Heart

  ISBN: 9781867235781

  TITLE: A BRAMBLEBERRY SUMMER

  First Australian Publication 2021

  Copyright © 2021 by RaeAnne Thayne LLC

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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