Holt Men of Clifton, Montana Book 12

by Susan Fisher-Davis

  He grinned as he wrapped his arms around her.

  “Definitely,” he said as he lowered his head and took her lips in a deep kiss. When she moaned, he deepened it, thrusting his tongue into her mouth to duel with hers. He groaned. She gave as good as she got. He raised his lips and stared into her eyes. “You are so beautiful. Your ex was a real idiot.”

  “Everything happens for a reason. If he hadn’t screwed around, we’d still be married, and I wouldn’t have met you.”

  “True.” Holt kissed her forehead.

  “You’re such a romantic man.”

  “I believe a woman should be wined and dined.”

  “You do more than that. You brought me flowers, took me to a nice restaurant, held doors for me, kissed my forehead…”

  “You make it sound like he didn’t do any of that.” He frowned at the thought of her being neglected.

  “The only thing he did in all of that was take me out to dinner, and that even stopped after we got married.”

  “No date nights?”

  “No, he was always working. Oh, excuse me. He was always banging his secretary.”

  He snorted out a laugh. “Well, his loss is my gain.”

  Sloane smiled up at him, and her fingers toyed with the buttons on his dark blue dress shirt. He hadn’t really dressed up for their date, just a dress shirt, dark blue jeans, and his best pair of distressed boots. He wasn’t a fancy kind of man. Never had been, and he never will be. He was just…him.

  He was about to lower his head to kiss her again when Buddy scratched at the door. With a deep sigh, he turned and opened the door. Buddy ran in, stopped in front of Sloane, and sat. She looked at Holt, and he couldn’t stop from rolling his eyes, making her laugh.

  “Come on, let’s go into the living room.”

  “By the way, your kitchen is beautiful. I meant to say something when we first came in, but I was kinda busy keeping an eye on Buddy.”

  “Thanks.” Holt took her hand and led her from the kitchen before she got wrapped up in loving his dog again.

  ****

  Sloane did think the kitchen was impressive with its oak cabinets, black hardware, butcher block countertops that surrounded white appliances, the wide cherry wooden floor planks, three big windows above the sink, and a see-through fireplace. She let him lead her from the kitchen and into the dining room, where the other side of the fireplace faced. This room boasted a large walnut table that sat centered on a braided rug, a hutch filled with dishware sat in a corner, and a matching buffet sat under a row of windows but when they entered the living room, she let out a gasp at the beauty of it. A large stone fireplace sat in the corner of the room with the stone reaching the ceiling. The front and side walls were nothing but windows. They took up both walls and butted against the stone chimney. The same cherry planks made up the floor. A flat-screen TV sat above the mantle on the fireplace, and a big, overstuffed sofa sat with its back to the dining room with a matching recliner across from it facing the hearth. The huge coffee table sat on another braided rug, and a bookshelf, filled from top to bottom with books and photos, sat on a back wall. The interior walls were painted a deep shade of blue, and the trey ceiling had a big fan hanging down from the center.

  “This is beautiful, Holt.” She glanced around the room and walked to the photos sitting on a bookshelf. She reached out and picked one up and looked at it. It was of Holt and a beautiful blonde. “Your wedding day?”

  “Yes,” he said from over her shoulder.

  Sloane ran her fingertip over Carolyn’s image. “She was so beautiful.”

  “Inside and out. I never understood how she could love me.”

  “Why?” She glanced at him over her shoulder then back to the photo.

  “I’m not an easy man. Well, I wasn’t before she came along. I used to be just like that song said, I’m hard to love. I was stubborn, hardheaded, and not looking to change. Carolyn made me a better man.”

  “You miss her.”

  Holt cleared his throat. “Every minute of every day and I will for the rest of my life.”

  She set the picture back on the shelf. “You have a gorgeous home. How many bedrooms?” She decided it was probably best to change the subject.

  “Three, along with a den, office, three full baths, one half, and up the stairs is a loft with more bookshelves. Carolyn loved reading. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with the loft when I built the house. Maybe just a place to take a nap.” He shrugged. “But once she moved in, she had me install more bookshelves.”

  “I envy you. It’s so pretty, yet practical. Not fancy. Am I making sense?”

  “Yes, exactly what I was going for when I built it. My grandfather, who I’m named after, owned this land. He left it to me because my dad told him he didn’t know what he’d do with it.” Holt chuckled. “I’m glad he didn’t. I’ve always wanted to raise Morgans. My grandfather knew that so he left me the land and a good bit of money. He left me a letter telling me to follow my dream. I spent every summer with that man. He lived in a little cabin on the property but had a huge barn and sold cattle. The barn is still sitting up there, but the cabin fell in years after he died.”

  “So, you didn’t build this for Carolyn?”

  “No. I had this place when I met her. I had just finished the house. It took me almost a year to build it because I did it myself, along with some friends.”

  “Wow. How did you design it?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “What? A man can’t design something like this?” She scowled at him, and he laughed. “Okay, I did look at pictures in magazines, online, at the library. You name it. I knew I wanted a lot of windows to let the sunshine in. Riley Madison, a friend of mine, builds houses. He helped me out big time. He’d send his construction crew here when he could. Mostly though, it was me working on it. Riley also helped me with the design. I told him what I wanted, and he had his architect draw it up. I’d show him photos I’d found, and he went to work on it. He’s damn good.”

  Buddy made his way to the front of the fireplace, lay down, and let out a big sigh. Sloane moved to take a seat on the sofa, and she watched as Holt kneeled in front of the hearth, reached up into the chimney to open the flue, then stood, picked up a large box of matches, lit one, and set it to the wood. She smiled as she stared at the flames wrapping around the logs and climbing up the flue.

  “Don’t you want to see the rest of the house?” he asked her as he took a seat beside her.

  “Maybe later. Tell me about her, Holt.”

  He huffed out a breath. “What do you want to know?”

  “All of it, unless it’s too painful for you.”

  “It will always be painful, but I’ll tell you anything you want to know. I met her when I was twenty-nine. A confirmed bachelor. I had no desire to get married, though I can’t really say why. My parents and my sister and her husband have great marriages. At that time, most of my friends weren’t married either. I think we thought we’d never get married. I just didn’t think I wanted to go that route.”

  “Until her,” she said quietly.

  “Yes. Until her. She came up to me one night in Dewey’s bar. It’s a local cowboy bar in Clifton. She did it on a dare from the women she was with.” Holt smiled. “But she said it was her decision if she left with me or not. She did. I brought her here, and we ended up in bed.” He shook his head. “She was a virgin. I couldn’t believe it. I raised all kinds of hell with her. I told her she should have saved herself for the man she would marry.” He looked at Sloane. “Do you know what she said?”

  Sloane shook her head. “No. What?”

  “She said she did. It took me a minute to get what she meant but damn it, she was right. All the years I swore I’d never get married, I knew right then, they went out the window. I wanted to marry her and I would have done it that night, but she wanted a church wedding. We got married a year later. We had a great marriage but then she started having headaches and nausea, and she’d get confused abo
ut simple things. We went to see our family care physician, and he made her an appointment with a neurologist who ordered an MRI. The next thing we knew, we were seeing a neurosurgeon. That was when I knew it was serious. She was diagnosed with glioblastoma. It’s the most aggressive cancer that begins within the brain. Surgery was performed then she went through radiotherapy and chemo. It’s one of the deadliest cancers, and the survival rate is low, even if caught in time. Fewer than three to five percent of people survive longer than five years, but others like Caro die within twelve to fifteen months. It just devastated me. I knew she was trying to be strong and mostly for me. I told her we’d be fine. We’d beat it. I wanted to believe that, but I feel like I lied to her.”

  Sloane touched his hand. “You had no way of knowing, Holt.”

  “I shouldn’t have made a promise I couldn’t keep. I fell apart, but she didn’t. She was so much stronger than me. When she started chemo, her hair fell out but I didn’t care, and neither did she. But I had to watch her waste away a little more every day. When her doctor admitted her to Hospice, I knew it wouldn’t be much longer. The only comfort I could give her was to cover her with her favorite pink blanket and be there. I rarely left the hospital while she was there. I’d come home, shower, try to eat something, and go right back. The night she died, I lay on the bed with her and held her in my arms. Then she took her last breath and was gone.”

  Sloane reached over and wiped the tear off his cheek. He looked at her and did the same for her. She hadn’t realized she was crying. It had to have been so hard on him. Watching the woman that he loved just fade away. Sloane could tell he loved Carolyn deeply.

  “You seem all right now though.”

  “I am. It took me a while. I’d fall apart over nothing. The men who work for me didn’t know what to do some days. I’d be talking to them, see her horse, and lose it in front of them. They loved her too, so they understood.” Holt leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “I almost burned this house down.”

  “On purpose?” she asked in shock.

  “Yep,” he said as he opened an eye, looked at her, and closed it again. “I didn’t want to live here without her. I sat in that recliner one night and stared at the fireplace, wondering how I could do it and not get arrested for arson.” He chuckled.

  “What changed your mind?”

  “I swear I heard Caro saying, ‘don’t you dare’.”

  Sloane laughed. “She probably did!”

  “Can I get you something to drink, Sloane?”

  “Coffee?”

  He got to his feet. “Sure. I have a K-cup machine, so it will only be a minute. I’ll be right back.”

  Sloane nodded and watched as he sauntered from the room.

  ****

  Holt entered the kitchen, got two K-cups down from the cupboard, turned the machine on, and went about making them each a cup. He leaned back against the counter, folded his arms, crossed his ankles, and wondered how he could get Sloane to spend the night. He wanted her but after telling her about Caro, she might not be so willing.

  He had loved Caro but she was gone, and she would probably be the first one to tell him to get on with life. She wouldn’t want him alone for the rest of his life, just as he wouldn’t want that for her if he had gone first.

  He ran his hand down his face then around the back of his neck. He just wasn’t sure he wanted another permanent type of relationship. The thought of losing someone again had him too scared to try with anyone, but Sloane was so beautiful. Inside and out, just like Caro had been. He would just have to see where this went. She might not be willing to get serious with anyone either since her idiot of a husband had done one hell of a number on her. Holt knew she had a lot of doubt in her mind. No one likes to be fucked around on, and it had to make a person wonder what they’d done wrong when, more likely, it wasn’t their fault at all. Some people just couldn’t be faithful. He would be though. He had been to Caro. If he did find someone again, he would remain true to them as well. He glanced toward the living room. Was it possible it could be with Sloane?

  The machine sputtered, signaling the coffee was made. He replaced the K-cup with another, set a mug under it, and pressed the button. Looking under the counter, he found an old tray, put the sugar and cream on it then waited for the other cup to finish. Once both were ready, he picked up the tray, carried it to the living room, and set it on the coffee table. Sloane was back at the bookshelf again, looking at more photos.

  “Coffee’s ready,” he said.

  “Is this your sister?” She held a photo up.

  “Yeah, that’s her and Cary. Siobhan hadn’t been born yet.”

  Sloane replaced the photo and picked up another one. Holt strolled over to stand behind her.

  “My parents.”

  “You look like your dad. They’re both tall. No wonder you are.”

  “Dad is six foot six, and mom is five foot ten. Liza is five foot eleven, so it’s a good thing Cary is tall. He’s the same as me, six foot five.”

  “Good Lord! I’d feel like a little bug around all of you.” Sloane set the photo back on the shelf.

  He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her from behind. “Good things come in little packages.” He kissed her neck and felt her shiver.

  “I love this photo of you,” she said as she picked up another one

  “One of my ranch hands took it. I didn’t even know he did until he showed it to me. I liked it, so I asked for a copy. I had just sold that mare, and it was hard to let her go since she was such a good horse. I was pretty upset that day.”

  The picture was of him standing next to the horse in the winter. He could remember how cold it had been that day. He had gone to the corral to get the horse loaded into the trailer and take her to her new owner. It had been hard to sell her, but it was what he did and he knew he had to let her go. In the picture, the horse had her head against his chest. He remembered how it felt like one of the hardest things he had to do. His head was tilted down, and he had his hand on the horse’s face. It was a good memory even though it was hard at the time.

  Sloane placed the photo back on the shelf and turned in his arms. “It’s a great photo. I can tell it was cold that day, and I can also see that she loved you.”

  “Yes, she was a good horse, but I can’t keep them all.”

  “After coffee, you can show me the rest of your home.”

  Holt kissed her forehead. “Looking forward to it.”

  He took her hand and led her back to the sofa. She took a seat then he sat down beside her and handed her a cup.

  “I didn’t know what you liked in it, so I brought sugar and cream.”

  “I like both. I’m thinking of serving coffee at the bakery too. You know…since I’m going to have the tables.”

  “Like a little café?”

  “Yeah, what do you think?”

  “Could be a good idea. Some people might stop in before they start work, but you have to remember that the diner serves breakfast too and I’d hate to see you having to compete against Connie.”

  Sloane nibbled her bottom lip, and it took all he had not to grab her and kiss her. He cleared his throat, and she looked over at him.

  “You’re right. I guess I could just open a regular bakery and not have tables.”

  “Well, you could have tables but for people to sit and have their pastries along with their coffee, just not serve breakfast. It’s entirely up to you though. I think Connie stops serving breakfast around ten. You could open then.”

  Sloane nodded. “Yes, that would work. I’d never want to compete with Connie. She’s been so good to me. Letting me live above the diner and all. She refuses to take money for rent. It’s one reason I started helping out in the diner.”

  “I was hoping you’d be there the day I stopped in,” he murmured, and a smile lit up her beautiful face.

  “I was hoping to see you again too.”

  Holt grinned, leaned forward, and pressed his lips to hers. Her hand
cupped his cheek. Pulling back, he took her cup from her, set it on the table, and pulled her across his lap then captured her lips with his. When her arms moved around his neck, he deepened the kiss then pulled his lips from hers.

  “I want you, Sloane,” he whispered, then moved his lips across her cheek to her ear and down her neck.

  “Holt, I want you too,” she said in his ear.

  He pushed to his feet, holding her in his arms, and strode down the hall to his bedroom. This woman was driving him insane and if he didn’t have her soon, he was going to lose it. Entering the room, he kicked the door closed behind him and chuckled when Buddy barked.

  “He usually sleeps in here with me.”

  “He can wait since we’re not sleeping,” she whispered and kissed his neck.

  He placed her in the center of the bed and came down beside her. Sloane glanced around the room then looked at him.

  “No, it’s not the room I shared with Caro. I switched the den with the bedroom.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s fine, Sloane. I would have thought the same thing.” He lowered his head and kissed her hard and deep. When she moaned into his mouth, he about came in his jeans.

  He slid his hand down her side to the hem of her dress and rolled it up then slipped his finger inside the elastic on her panties. She seemed to stop breathing.

  “Relax, baby,” he whispered against her lips.

  “I’m trying.”

  “Sloane, we don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

  “Oh, I’m ready. I’m just a little scared. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

  “You could never do that.” He pressed his lips to hers, forced her mouth open wider, and thrust his tongue inside. She gave back. He had to slow down, or he was going to embarrass himself, but when her hand squeezed his hard cock through his jeans, he almost did. He placed his hand over hers to stop her. She pulled back from him and a frown marred her brow.

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No. God, no, darlin’. I just need to slow down, and when you squeezed my cock, I about came.”