by Kim Redford
He looked at the fun plate with its pretty arrangement of food, but he’d lost his appetite for anything except her. He could blame her for making him lose every last bit of sense he ever had when he was with her, but he wouldn’t place all the blame on her, even if he did feel like he’d been kicked upside the head by a horse when he was with her.
He abruptly stood up, water cascading down his body back into the hot tub. He looked down at her. It was a bad angle because he could see the full shape of her breasts and her taut nipples. He had to get away, or he was going to grab her and meet the expectation in her blue eyes. Yeah, he’d agreed to sex earlier, but now that they were this close to fulfilling that agreement, he suddenly felt protective of her. How many men in LA had bird-dogged her, wanting simply to be with her or take what was quick and easy? How many ways had her ex connived to con her? How many times had her innocence been used against her? She deserved better—from him, at least.
“You stay. Enjoy the hot tub. I’m going to my room,” he said with his last bit of self-control.
She rose out of the water, all sleek wet skin and tantalizing curves. “But your food… Do you feel sick?”
“I’m going to lie down.” He stepped out of the water. “If you need the truck, the keys are where I tossed them.”
He was through the sliding doors so fast it almost made his head spin, dripping water all the way to his suite above the garages. He stalked in through the open door and went straight to the bathroom done up just the way he wanted it with big tub, big shower, double sink, and deep cabinets in shades of gray with black accents. He jerked off his cutoffs and threw them in the tub, then walked into his bedroom, tossed back the black cover on his king-size bed, and slid in between gray sheets. He gazed blankly up at the huge media screen on the wall just waiting to be turned on for distraction, then over at the telescope that allowed him to check out his pastures all the way to Wildcat Road through his triple windows that overlooked the front of the house.
But nothing could distract him from the tent he was making under his sheet nor make the ultrafine fabric feel any less rough.
He was starved, but not for food or drink. He hungered after only one thing in life—Eden Rafferty. He crossed his arms behind his head. He knew damn good and well that nothing could ease the ache, the passion, the need that was going to ride him so long as she was back in Wildcat Bluff.
When a shadow appeared in his open doorway, he couldn’t believe his eyes. He blinked, tried to focus, and blinked again. Eden stepped into his room wearing nothing but an old, ratty, green plaid cowboy shirt of his from days long gone. He vaguely remembered loaning it to her one time. It fit her better than it would him now, hugging her in all the right places with the shirt tails riding about the center of her thighs, showing off her long legs.
He pulled the black spread over the sheet to conceal his condition, made even more painful by her presence. “Eden, what are you doing here?”
“Did you really think you could get rid of me so easily?”
“I don’t want food or water.”
“I didn’t bring any.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Aren’t you still hungry?” She padded softly into his bedroom on bare feet.
“I’m not playing games.”
“I’m hungry.”
“Then go down to the kitchen.” If she came any closer, he was going to spontaneously combust. She’d have to call the firefighters—unless she put out the fire all on her own.
“What I want isn’t in the kitchen.” She walked into the center of the room, undid the top buttons of his shirt, and let it drop slowly down her body to pool on the floor.
She took his breath away, so that he had no more words, no more excuses, no more anything except desperate desire. She was beautiful, from the tawny hair of her head to her peach-painted toenails. And he lusted after everything in between from her pink-tipped breasts to her indented navel to the triangle between her thighs to her shapely legs. He wanted it all. And he wanted it now. Any good intentions he’d had went right out the window.
He drew his covers down to his waist and scooted over in bed, so he was in the center, with plenty of room for her to join him. “Is this what you want?”
“I want what I’ve always wanted since that midnight up on Lovers Leap.” She stalked toward him, then stopped and put a hand on her hip.
“Why did you leave me?” he asked.
“I couldn’t stay.”
“When you get what you want, will you leave me again?”
“I don’t want to talk about tomorrow or the next day or the day after that. Let’s talk about now—right this very moment.”
“I don’t want to talk at all.” And he tossed back the covers to reveal what she did to him.
She smiled as she looked him over, returning again and again to the long, hard, hot center of him. “Would you care to share?”
“I’d care a whole lot more if I couldn’t share.”
She placed a knee on the edge of the bed, leaned over, and kissed him gently—almost serenely—on his lips. As she did so, her breasts swung forward, teasing his chest, making his belly clench, winding him up. He groaned deep in his throat as he lost the last of his control and pulled her down on top of him, positioning her body so he could feel her weight pressed tightly against him.
“You know I love you,” he said against all his better instincts, making himself vulnerable to her.
“I know.” She stretched down the length of him and pushed her fingertips deep into his hair as she pressed light kisses against his forehead, his closed eyelids, his cheekbones, and back to his mouth. “You’ve always loved me.”
“Always,” he said, agreeing as he nibbled on her plump lower lip, then licked upward, tasting her sweet tartness. “And you?”
“I love that you love me.”
“Oh hell!” And he twisted out from under her, shaking his head to try and clear it. “That’s not what you’re supposed to say. Couldn’t you at least lie and say you love me?”
“Why would I have to lie?” She opened her big blue eyes as she looked at him in wonder.
“I don’t know why I fool myself.” He ran a hand in agitation through his hair, well aware that no matter what she said or how she acted, he still had a raging hard-on for her. “You’ve never loved me.”
“Why would you say that?”
“You left.” He jerked the cover over them both, wanting to get away from her and yet unable to leave her. “You fell in love and married that good-for-nothing guy.” He hesitated, then went with it. “Not me.”
She put a hand over her mouth as tears filled her eyes. “You wanted to marry me?”
“Of course!”
“You never said ‘love’ or ‘marriage’ or anything.” She wiped away tears with the back of her hand, suddenly looking furious.
“How could I when your plans were already made to leave Wildcat Bluff?”
“If you’d said… That’s why I went to you on Lovers Leap. If nothing else, I wanted at least that little bit to take with me.”
Now he felt angry, trying to figure how the hell, every time they came close, they got into an argument. “Well, you got it. I guess it wasn’t enough for you.”
“How could it be?”
He quickly slipped the covers off and tossed them to the floor. Nothing stood between them now except the past. And their hunger. “Enough?” He heard his hiss, almost a growl as he got up on his knees and leaned over her. “If you want, I can give you deep enough, hard enough, long enough that you might even think you love me.”
She reached up and twined her arms around his neck, pulling him down toward her. “But don’t you understand—”
He kissed her, thrusting deep into her mouth. Whatever she had to say, he didn’t want to hear it. He only wanted to feel her, taste her, revel in her—
at least one more time. And she returned his kiss, revealing a hunger of her own for him as she met him thrust for thrust.
Finally, he lifted her gently, so her head was cushioned on his pillow, and then he smiled at the sight he’d so longed dreamed of seeing in his own bed but never really thought possible. “I love you,” he said under his breath as he reached into his nightstand, pulled out a condom, and slipped it on.
He kissed each of her taut nipples, then sucked, drawing out the pleasure for them both, escalating the sensitivity for them both, merging the passion for them both. And then he moved lower, kissing, licking, teasing, till she grasped his shoulders and dug in her nails.
“Enough?” he asked, realizing there might never be enough for either of them.
“Show me.” She tossed her head back and forth on his pillow, clutching harder at his shoulders.
When he entered her with one swift thrust, she was ready for him, hot and wet and tight. In the supercharged moment, he was transported back to that night up on Lovers Leap, as if no time at all had elapsed since their first time together and this just-as-magical second time.
She reached up and bit his earlobe, purring, catlike, with pleasure as he drove them higher and higher. And when they spiraled into ecstasy together, he thought he heard her whisper, “I love you.”
Yet he couldn’t be sure of her words because they were lost in the loud beat of his heart.
Chapter 16
Two weeks later, Eden decided once more that springtime in North Texas was vastly different than springtime in Southern California. In LA, plants looked a little perkier after their winter tiredness. In Wildcat Bluff, despite the ongoing drought, trees were budding out in vibrant green, wildflowers were springing up in pastures, and daffodils were nodding pretty, yellow heads in a soft, warm breeze from the south.
She felt a satisfied smile transform her face. Perhaps she was particularly attuned to the frolicking birds and bees of spring this year because she was back in Wildcat Bluff—and frequently in Shane Taggart’s big, luxurious bed. She knew he had a great deal to do with the smile on her face, but she was also happy to be back at the Wildcat Den with Jack and Ken. Morning Glory’s great-nephew was looking happier every day as he did more radio work, sharing new tech with Jack while learning all he could about old tech. He especially loved their collection of vinyl. As far as she knew, Shane hadn’t been able to get Ken on the back of a horse yet, but he was handy with a four-wheeler.
All in all, she was speaking more easily and feeling more confident. She didn’t need to protect herself so much anymore. She felt safe in the county and on the ranch, where she was no longer harassed by paparazzi or her ex and his minions. She’d taken a chance and recorded a few advertisements for the Chuckwagon Café, and that experience had turned out well. Even if her voice wasn’t back to full strength, she was getting there.
Life was good. Unexpectedly so. It’d have been even better if KWCB and Wildcat Spring didn’t loom between her and Shane. They’d set their conflicting issue aside for the time being, but she knew they’d have to confront it at some point.
She didn’t want to think about losing Shane. She particularly didn’t want to now that she was beginning to understand how shallow her feelings must have been for Graham—even when she’d thought she’d loved him—in comparison to how she had always felt about Shane. Love. Graham’s professed love for her had been a big fat lie. Shane’s love she could believe, but he also loved the Rocky T, just as she loved the Wildcat Den. How much stress could love withstand? She didn’t know, and she didn’t want to learn, but she had an uneasy feeling that, sooner or later, she would find out.
She parked Betty on Old Town’s Main Street in front of a long row of one- and two-story buildings built of stone and brick and nestled behind a white portico that covered a long boardwalk. Sunlight glinted off store windows. She felt as if she’d stepped back in time into a Western town like the ones she’d seen in old tintype photographs. Yet everything appeared as fresh as if it’d been constructed yesterday. She knew that happened only because the buildings were lovingly maintained by townsfolk.
The Wildcat Bluff Hotel anchored one end of the street, an impressive two-story structure of red brick with a grand entrance of cream keystones and a second-floor balcony enclosed with a stone balustrade supported by five columns. Next door, an antique, painted-wood cigar store Indian stood to one side of the old batwing-style doors of the Lone Star Saloon, still serving the same function as it had during the 1880s, with food, drink, and music.
On the other end of Main Street, the Chuckwagon Café held the place of honor, with Morning’s Glory, Adelia’s Delights, Gene’s Boot Hospital, Thingamajigs, and other popular shops in between.
Eden stepped out of Betty and caught the scent of lavender, rose, and frankincense, obviously vented out of Morning’s Glory to entice shoppers. Inside, they could peruse MG’s handmade bath products and other items produced by local artisans.
Eden had come to town at the request of Morning Glory, who’d been surprisingly reticent. MG probably wanted to discuss how Ken was fitting in at the radio station, so that was just fine.
As she stepped up onto the boardwalk, she felt that tingling sensation between her shoulder blades that told her she was being watched. She hadn’t experienced it since leaving LA and felt her stomach clench in a knot, making her feel queasy. She whirled around, looked past the businesses, down the row of parked vehicles, but saw nothing that looked out of place. Maybe she was simply anxious about feeling happy, so she was conjuring old worries out of thin air. Still, the feeling persisted, so she quickly headed toward Morning’s Glory to try and get away from it.
When she opened the shop’s door and heard a bell jingle to announce her presence, she glanced over her shoulder. A small gray sedan showing red brake lights was parked on the street in front of the Chuckwagon Café. As if the driver saw her noticing the illegally parked car, he, or maybe she—impossible to tell due to a hoodie—sped up and disappeared down the street.
She knew there was no need to be concerned at the sight of a small car. She was most likely simply overreacting. She’d just continue on with her wonderful day and forget old memories and bad drivers. As she let the door close behind her, she felt that sense of being watched slide away.
“Eden!” Morning Glory hurried forward, wearing her trademark ankle-length, colorful skirt and long-sleeved blouse in rich turquoise with matching cowgirl boots. She opened her arms wide in welcome. “I’m so happy you could make it.”
“Me, too.” Eden gave MG a hug, then stepped back with a smile on her face. “You smell wonderful.”
Morning Glory raised an eyebrow, looking mischievous. “Glad you like my new scent. I believe men will find it irresistible.”
“What are you calling it?”
“I haven’t decided yet. What do you think?”
“I’m clueless.”
“Tell you what. I’ll give you a sample, and you let me know if a name comes to you.”
“Okay. I’m happy to try it.” Eden could only think of where and when she might use the scent with Shane.
“Great! Please take a look around. I’m pretty proud of my shop and all our local artists.” She raised an arm and gestured in a wide circle.
Eden couldn’t help but appreciate the tie-dyed fabric wallpaper, old oak floors buffed to a waxy sheen, and decorative pressed-tin ceiling. MG had filled the store with wood shelves holding colorful glass jars in all shapes and sizes that contained perfumes, bath salts, lotions, and all manner of beauty supplies. Several sections were devoted to individual artisans. Eden admired hand-carved wooden animals such as wildcats, buffalo, horses, and cattle, as well as beautiful, colorful, original quilts. One wall displayed delicate watercolor paintings in rich frames depicting local scenes of the Cross Timbers.
Finally, she whirled back to Morning Glory. “It’s gorgeous.
This has to be a shopper’s delight.”
“I hope so.” Morning Glory clasped her hands together over her heart, bracelets jingling on her wrists, long necklaces swaying around her neck. “Now, let me get you that sample before we go next door.”
“Next door?”
“Didn’t I say?” Morning Glory walked over to a counter, picked up a small glass vial with a stopper, and held it out. “We’re having tea with Hedy in Adelia’s Delights.”
“Really?” Eden accepted the perfume and tucked it carefully in her purse. “That sounds like fun.”
“Much more than fun. We have a proposition.”
“Now I’m intrigued.”
“We hope you’ll be more than intrigued, but come along. I imagine Hedy has everything ready and waiting in her tearoom.”
Eden followed Morning Glory through the open archway that connected the two stores. She smiled, remembering how much she’d always loved Adelia’s Delights. As usual, she felt as if she’d been transported back in time. The sign on the wall read “Established 1883.” Knickknacks in all shapes, sizes, and colors filled deep shelves and glass cabinets. One section contained country pickles, jams, and other edible items in canning jars. Tall glass containers of old-fashioned hard candy stood on the checkout counter near the ancient black-and-gold cash register in the back of the store. A prominent display of the Bluebird of Happiness, sky-blue glass birds in all sizes made in Arkansas, gleamed in the front window.
A long-haired, tortoiseshell cat dozed on a glass shelf among the bluebirds, basking in sunlight coming in the display window.
“I see Rosie’s on the job,” Eden said, enjoying the sight of the beautiful polydactyl’s extra dewclaws.
“Always,” Morning Glory said. “With those huge paws, she could be quite the mouser.”
“Wildcat Bluff has always appreciated cats, hasn’t it?” Eden said.
“Back in the day, kitties were worth their weight in gold, since they were all anybody had to keep the rodent population under control. Cat stealing was a serious crime back then.” Morning Glory chuckled, shaking her head. “Nowadays, I’d say Rosie’s claim to fame is her great beauty.”