by Kim Redford
“Oh, Jack, of course I came to see you,” Morning Glory trilled in an excited voice. “I just happened to run into these two on my way.”
“I knew it!” When Jack reached them, he caught Morning Glory in a big hug, raised her off her feet, and swung her around, grinning all the while. “How’s my best girl doing? And who’s the young’un you got in tow? You didn’t go and get married behind my back, now, did you?”
“You know I’d always give you first chance.” Morning Glory slapped Jack on the arm, chuckling and blushing and smiling at his teasing ways.
Ken appeared fascinated as he tracked the back-and-forth between Morning Glory and Jack.
Shane had seen Wildcat Jack in action before. There didn’t seem to be a woman alive who could resist Jack’s good-old-boy Texas charm. Every man should be so lucky with the ladies.
“You honor me. You really do.” Jack nodded toward Ken. “So, who’s your assistant here?”
“This is my great-nephew, Ken Kendrick. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but he’s staying with me for a while.”
“Well, aren’t you the luckiest of boys?” Jack checked Ken over from head to toe. “You appear to be a might undernourished. What’s she feeding you?”
“Veggies.”
“Hogwash!” Jack gave Morning Glory a stern look. “A growing boy like that needs steak and potatoes. It’ll put meat on his bones.”
“Yeah, I could use some real food,” Ken quickly said, sidling toward Jack with a reverent look on his face. “You wouldn’t be…well, the famous Wildcat Jack, would you?”
“I better be, or I’ve been living a lie for seventy-nine years.”
“Wow.” Ken rubbed the front of his T-shirt to call attention to the fact that he was promoting Jack’s brand. “Not much to do here. I get you on the radio.”
Jack nodded, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Most folks do.”
“Not lame.”
“Thanks,” Jack said. “I do my best.”
Ken tugged the neck of his T-shirt, scuffed his sneaker again, and gestured with his chin toward the station. “That where you do it?”
“Yep,” Jack said.
“Don’t look like much.”
“It’s not much. But it works. I play reel-to-reel tapes and vinyl on the turntable.”
“Tape? Vinyl?” Ken gave a big grin with a sparkle in his eyes. “You’ve got the real deal? I mean vintage stuff?”
“Guess I do.” Jack chuckled, rolling his dark eyes. “Keep in mind, vintage to you is new to me.”
“Right.” Ken gave a serious nod of agreement. “No CDs?”
“Nary a one.”
Ken glanced at Morning Glory, then back at Jack. “Seeing as you’re friends with MG and all, think I could see your lair in the Den sometime?”
“Now I don’t let just any Tom, Dick, or Harry into the Wildcat Den.”
“Course not!” Ken looked offended at the very idea. “I’d be real careful. I wouldn’t touch anything. I mean, it’d mean a lot if I could see the tech and stuff.”
“Might could do it.” Jack glanced at Morning Glory and raised an eyebrow in question.
“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” Morning Glory said with a smile of relief, “I’d appreciate Ken getting a chance to see how a radio station works.”
“Nothing’s too much trouble for you, my dear Morning Glory.” Jack clasped her fingers and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand in a courtly gesture.
Morning Glory smiled as she pressed her kissed hand to her heart. “Wildcat Jack, you’re just too much.”
“Thank you, MG. Truth of the matter, I haven’t felt a day over Woodstock lo these many years.”
“That makes two of us,” Morning Glory said with a twinkle in her eyes.
“Maybe it was something in the water,” Jack added with a sly grin.
“You were at Woodstock, too?” Eden glanced at him in surprise.
“Now that’s a story for another day—or not.” Jack tossed a long silver braid over his shoulder. “Today we’re discussing the possibility of Ken’s tour.”
“Seeing as how you’re really good friends,” Ken said, “maybe I could help out at the Den. I’d do anything. I’d even sweep floors or run errands.” He pointed toward the ranch. “I’ve got to be out here anyway.”
“Are you going to get that boy roping and riding?” Jack gave a big whoop and holler. “I was a cowboy before I was a DJ. There’s nothing like a singing cowboy to bring home the bacon—and attract the ladies.”
“I thought DJs were the top of the line.” Ken gave Jack a wide grin as if catching him in a fib.
“You got me there.” Jack laughed. “Let’s say it’s always best to keep all your options open.”
“Ken, I don’t know if I should let you spend time around Jack,” Morning Glory said with a chuckle. “He’ll fill your head so full of tall tales that we’ll never get it shrunk back to regular size again.”
Shane smiled as everybody laughed at her joke, cementing Ken’s new place as part of their extended group.
Ken straightened his shoulders, appearing taller and prouder.
“I’d really appreciate any help y’all are willing to give,” Morning Glory said. “We tried Ken in my shop, but that didn’t go very well.”
Ken rolled his eyes. “Girl stuff.”
“We’ve got plenty of stuff for guys to do here on the ranch.” Shane made a quick decision. “And you’re welcome to join us as long as you’re willing to pull your own weight.”
“I’ll do it.” Ken gave Jack a hopeful glance. “And the Den?”
“Best look to Eden,” Jack said. “She’s the boss.”
“I’m not sure what needs doing,” Eden said. “I just got back to town.”
“Whatever you want, I’m your guy.” Ken pointed at his T-shirt with the Wildcat Den logo. “I’m already a fan.”
“Okay then,” Eden said with a smile, “but no complaints if you’re washing windows and sweeping floors.”
Ken pantomimed zipping his lips shut.
“Thanks.” Morning Glory gave a loud sigh. “This is a big load off my mind. Ken is a quick study and he won’t be any trouble.”
“Hah!” Jack said. “We boys got to stick together because trouble is our middle name.”
“You know it.” Ken gave everybody a self-satisfied grin.
“Come on.” Jack nodded toward the station. “I’ll give you and MG a quick tour, then you best let me get back to my listeners.”
“See you later.” Eden called to them as they walked away, then she turned toward Shane. “I hope this all works out great.”
“At the least, you’ll get some help.”
“So will you.”
Shane gestured toward the swing. “Maybe we should sit down and discuss how we’re going to handle Ken.” He couldn’t help but think that if she hadn’t left town they might have a boy of their own about Ken’s age. He liked that idea a lot.
“You’re bound and determined to get me on that swing, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. And a whole lot more.”
Chapter 9
Eden felt as if she’d stepped back in time, hanging out with Shane, seeing Morning Glory in her flower-child finery, watching Jack’s shenanigans, and now discovering a wild card in Ken. LA was unpredictable, but Wildcat Bluff held its own in that regard. Texas wasn’t just about heart but about living on the edge. Maybe that’s why so many folks in the 1800s had written “GTT”—“Gone to Texas”—on their front doors as they took off ahead of debt collectors, love gone bad, or the law, to disappear forever. Still, she suspected plenty of folks with a strong independent streak had answered the call of the wild, willing to bet it all on a chance to start over and build a powerful legacy.
Was she willing to bet everything on the here and
now? Maybe she was already all in, but she just hadn’t put it together till this moment. She’d thought the station and the spring were all she had left, so she’d come home, but maybe they were what she needed at exactly this time in her life. She looked at Shane, feeling an unaccustomed emotion well up. Maybe she needed more in life than all work and no play.
“Glad to be back?” He cocked his head to one side as he gave her a concerned look with his hazel eyes.
“Am I that transparent?” She felt her voice catch in her throat, as if stuck on a lump that mirrored the sudden ache in her chest. Had she been homesick and never realized it as she galloped forward to meet whatever life tossed at her?
“Remember, I know you.”
“For better or worse, I’ve changed. LA changed me. Life changed me.”
“Life changes us all—on the outside. But we’re still the same on the inside. That means you’re without a doubt the Eden I know from way back.”
“I thought I’d left her behind, but now I’m not so sure.” She sounded wistful and knew it.
“Trust me. You’re my Eden come home.”
As she watched, he looked her up and down with a tenderness that echoed what she was feeling inside. “I think I’d like to be that Eden again.”
“If I promise to be good, will you sit in the swing with me like we did when we were kids?”
She couldn’t help but chuckle at his hopeful tone. “When have you ever been good?”
He joined her laughter. “I remember a time when you thought I was pretty good.”
“You don’t give up, do you?”
“Never. Not when it’s something I want.”
And she did remember that about him. They were alike in this particular way. Maybe it was the fact that they’d both been raised in Texas, or they’d just had this quality naturally. In either case, she understood him, so maybe he was right. Maybe neither of them had changed down deep in their souls, where seeds waited to be nourished at just the right moment, with sun and wind and water, so they’d ripen and unfurl into colorful fragrant blossoms.
He clasped her hand—gently, tenderly, carefully—and threaded their fingers together as if she were that delicate flower, just on the edge of bursting into rich, vibrant color and tantalizing scent.
She felt drawn back to a simpler, happier time of life, when they were so much more innocent and carefree.
He drew her up to the porch and across the deck to the swing without letting go of her hand.
She squeezed his fingers, then released them before sitting down. When he sat beside her, she felt content in a way she hadn’t for such a long time.
He cleared his throat, as if reluctant to bring up something, while he fiddled with the chain that tethered the swing on his side to the wood rafter above them.
“Go ahead. Whatever it is, I can take it.”
“It’s not that.” He looked out into the distance. “It’s Graham Tanner.”
“Graham.” She gripped the edges of the swing, tensing all over at just the mention of her former husband’s name. “What about him?”
“I want to make sure you’re over him.” Shane slanted a glance at her. “Are you?”
“How can you even ask?”
“Some women and men never give up even when—”
“That sidewinder!” She abruptly stood up, unable to sit still as furious energy poured through her. “Trust me, if I never see him again, it’ll be too soon.” She walked over to the edge of the deck, feeling chilled to the bone. She rubbed her upper arms with her palms as she tried to get warm.
“Are you mad at all guys now?” He got up and walked to her side.
She glanced up at him, so impossibly tall, dark, and handsome. She shook her head and looked away again. “I’m not thinking about guys at all.”
“What about now?” He clasped her hands, tethering her gently but firmly to him.
“We’re old friends. It’s not the same.”
“We’re a lot more than old friends.”
She knew he was right, but she was still a bit reluctant to let down her guard.
“You’re cold.” He drew her closer ever so slowly, then gently placed her hands around his neck before wrapping his arms around her and completely enclosing her. “You’re used to LA weather.”
She shivered, not from cold now but from body memory of when they’d come together so many years ago in a driving force of passion, as they’d thrust away everything except their burning need for each other. She clutched the soft fabric of his cotton shirt, her emotions in turmoil.
“Let me warm you.” He tightened his embrace, pressing soft kisses into her hair.
Despite everything, she still wanted him. She wanted every little thing about him. She pushed long fingers into his thick hair, inhaling the scent of him as if she were drawing him deep inside, while the sound of his breath grew more ragged with every feathery kiss.
Something broke in her, like water gushing over an earthen dam or a wall collapsing from its own weight. He was a powerful temptation. It was as if every one of the years they’d been apart had twined into a tight ball in the hours since they’d come face-to-face again, so there was no distance at all between then and now.
He sighed, a deep, husky sound of desire, and pushed back tendrils of soft hair to expose her ear. He gently nibbled, then kissed the delicate whorls before blazing a hot trail to the high plane of her cheekbone, stroking up her back with one strong hand while he held her as if he’d never let her go.
When he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, all that had been dark and gloomy and oppressive in her life turned light and bright and expansive. He nibbled her lower lip from one corner to the other, teasing, tormenting, exploring. When she felt the tip of his moist tongue, she opened to him, wanting to taste him, feel him, know him—and luxuriate in his power.
She greedily drank him in, teasing him back with her tongue till he groaned under her onslaught and kissed her with enough pent-up passion to make her gasp and press her body against him, unable to get close enough fast enough. She felt his broad hands caress her back and move downward till he grasped her bottom and pulled her against him.
At the knowledge of how much he wanted her, needed her, desired her, she felt her own inner heat spike and spread out from her center, making her ache all over. She rubbed against him, inciting them both to higher and higher flames. She knew she was pushing them toward a point of no return, but she didn’t care. She wanted what she wanted and that was Shane Taggart in all his cowboy glory. The past ceased to matter. Only the present held any allure.
He tore his mouth from her, breathing hard, looking at her face with eyes that were dark with hunger and something she couldn’t identify. Now, she simply gloried in feeling like a beautiful, beloved, wanted woman again.
Until this very moment, she hadn’t realized how badly Graham had damaged her self-esteem and how he’d made her run from the pleasure a man could give her. She didn’t need or want love. That emotion might lead to the danger of someone like Graham. No, she realized now that she needed simple passion. All she wanted was unemotional, no-strings-attached sex with a strong cowboy who could meet her needs with no questions asked or given. Was that so much to ask?
“Perhaps we could make an arrangement,” she whispered, feeling driven to have him but not hold him.
“Is this some sort of bet?” he asked in a rough tone, as if having trouble speaking at all. “If it is, I’m not at my best right now.”
She smiled slyly, knowing she looked pleased and all too much like a cat in the cream. “I think you’re at your very best.”
He groaned and hugged her harder, plowing long fingers into her hair to hold her still against him.
“I doubt we’re ever going to agree on the spring.”
He sighed, squeezing her tighter. “Not now anyway.”
“I’ll give you anything within my power to give you.”
She licked the little indentation between his collarbones at the base of his throat, tasting salty tartness. He made her feel bold. “Will you give me your body?”
He shuddered down his entire length, then set her back so he could look into her eyes. “If you’re toying with me, it’s not funny. I’m hurting, and your words aren’t helping.”
“Would joining me in my bed help?”
He rubbed a hand over his square jaw, abruptly turned away, then glanced back. “If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up. If it’s real, you can have me any which way you want me.”
She smiled, feeling her body come even more alive. “No strings attached.”
“If this is the way you want it, I guess you have changed.” He shook his head, as if not liking the situation but not willing to back out, either. “Come up to my place. There’s no way we’re getting into Clem’s bed. His ghost might haunt us forever.”
She chuckled at the thought, feeling relieved that Shane was making light of the situation, but she knew he was right, too.
“Besides, I’ve got a king-size bed.”
“Think we might need it?” she asked teasingly, feeling lighthearted and a little dizzy with her proposition. That he’d agreed so readily was slightly scary in that leap-off-a-cliff-without-knowing-how-far-down-to-the-bottom kind of way.
“Oh yeah, we just might.” He gave her a smile that was part lascivious and part challenge.
“Okay.” She held out her hand for him to shake. “We agree to fulfill our physical needs with no emotional involvement.”
He clasped her hand between his two strong ones. “LA must have been something. In Wildcat Bluff, men keep their women happy, no matter what it takes.”
“But I’m not your woman.”
He raised her hand to his lips and placed a warm and tender kiss on her palm before he looked up again. “Not yet.”