by Laura Moore
Perhaps that was why she was so determined to play it cool when she opened the door. “Oh, hey,” she said as her heart cartwheeled against her ribs.
“Hey.”
She stepped back to let him enter. She was glad he was wearing a thick charcoal-gray sweater that zippered at the collar with his jeans. If she’d had to raise her hands to take his jacket, he’d have seen she was trembling.
“Have you eaten? I was just fixing something,” she said ultra-casually.
“No, I haven’t. I came straight here after dropping Hayley off at Posey’s.”
Was it because she was trying to play it cool that he seemed reserved in return? Stranger still, even though she could sense his aloofness, she was equally aware of the weight of his gaze as she led him past the living room and dining room into the kitchen.
As she’d never really tried to do more in her kitchen than grab something from the fridge or cupboard and go, she hadn’t realized how small the space was. Or maybe it had shrunk. Somehow she couldn’t avoid brushing against Rob as she rummaged in the cabinets, looking for a pot in which to cook the pasta. Every time she brushed him, her pulse leaped. Lord, she was supposed to cook in this state?
Normal, act normal, she coached herself as she filled the pot with water.
“So how was your night yesterday? Do anything special with Topher McCallister?”
She sloshed water onto the floor, narrowly missing her shoes. With a muttered curse, she set the pot on the stove, grabbed a dish towel, and swabbed the floor—extra-thoroughly to give her time to think. Straightening, she tossed the damp towel onto the counter. “How’d you know I was with Topher last night?”
“Because I saw you. I was having a beer at the bar with my brother Scott. You were sitting at a table with Topher. Obviously you didn’t notice me.” He folded his arms across his chest and gazed at her levelly. “That was quite the kiss.”
Damn. She could only imagine what he was thinking. “Would you believe it was supposed to be an alternative to a friendly handshake? You see, Topher had just decided to buy Carmen, one of the horses I’ve been working with. Unfortunately, Topher went a tad overboard in the PDA department.”
Rob still wore that closed expression on his face.
“Wait. You’re not jealous, are you?”
She’d posed the question teasingly and was instantly appalled at herself. But she wasn’t in the habit of having to account for her actions to a man, of having what she did be important. It occurred to her, too, that perhaps she wanted to rile Rob a little and put a crack in the reserve she sensed in him.
But she didn’t really want to make Rob jealous, did she? Because that would be bent. Was she that much like her mother that she needed to be given proof that she was special? Was this why her mother had been seeing another man? To make Dad jealous?
And if she was anything like her mother, what was to prevent Jade from behaving with the same foolish cruelty? Her doubts made her feel as fragile and shallow as spun glass, brittle and too easily broken.
As the silence stretched between them, she wondered what else she might destroy.
Rob’s sigh broke the silence. He dragged a heavy hand through his dark hair. “Jealous? Yeah, I was. Still am, I guess. Tell me, Jade. Did you and he continue the kiss in private?”
At least she had the answer to one of her troubling questions. Rob’s admission hadn’t given her any twisted pleasure or triumph.
Shoving aside the rest of her worries, she shook her head emphatically. “No. I left the Horn and went over to Hawk Hill, Jordan and Owen’s place, and read Duck on a Bike to my nephew Neddy. He’s got the barnyard sounds down pat, which makes him far more entertaining to hang out with than Topher. And despite what you think you saw, Topher’s a lousy kisser. Truly.”
A smile had appeared on Rob’s face, and it lifted the corners of his mouth. It lifted her heart as well. He closed the distance between them and pinned her against the edge of the counter. She felt the tantalizing heat of him through the denim of their jeans.
“Nothing’s worse than a lousy kisser,” he observed.
“You can say that again. Of course, I’ve been terribly spoiled of late,” she said, her body tightening in anticipation of Rob’s certifiably excellent kisses.
His grin erased any remaining traces of tension in his expression. “Topher’s all wrong for you, anyway.” He lowered his head slowly, until all she could see was the electric blue of his eyes.
“And you’re so right?” she whispered.
“Yeah, I am.”
His kiss proved it beyond a doubt.
His lips teased with a few fleeting brushes, letting the taste and whisper-light pressure beguile her before they settled over her mouth to claim her wholly. With a mew of pleasure, she invited him to enter, and his tongue swept inside as his arms tightened around her, fingers slipping under her green cardigan to stroke the curve of her waist.
Like a match to kindling, his touch set flames of need dancing over her. She trembled, greedy for more. Molding herself against him, she nibbled and licked the underside of his freshly shaven jaw, the corded column of his neck, the shell of his ear. She smiled as his breathing changed, becoming heavy and labored. Her hands swept over his frame, setting his muscles aquiver, and her hunger grew.
She hadn’t realized that knowing Rob as a lover, knowing his body, its pleasure points, and what aroused him to a fever pitch, would increase her desire so. Even in her mindless state of need, she recognized that this was special, that what they had was extraordinary.
It wasn’t simply that Rob had all the right parts and moves. It was some deeper connection between them that took their lovemaking to a new and different plane of experience.
Her hands moved to his waistband to tug open his belt, pop the metal button of his jeans, and then hold her breath, the better to hear the quiet rasp of his zipper as she drew it down. It was almost as thrilling and sexy as the low rumble of laughter emanating from his chest.
“In a hurry?” he whispered as his mouth traveled to the hollow behind her ear, alternately tonguing it and then letting his teeth nibble on her lobe. Her cardigan open now, his fingers stroked the sensitive flesh of her abdomen in long, leisurely sweeps.
“Yes.” The single word was all she could manage, for as she spoke, her hand found him. Rock hard and yet wondrously alive, he throbbed heavily in her grip, the promise of sensual bliss. Closing her fingers around his shaft, she felt him shudder, and his breath came out in a long hiss. “And I’m hungry.”
“Hungry?”
She smiled. “Ravenous. For you.” Continuing in the spirit of complete openness, she confessed, “My dinner will be a poor second. I can hardly cook.”
“Ah, sweetheart, then I am definitely the man for you. In all ways,” he added, with what could only be called a cocksure grin.
“So it’s all right if I sample the goods?” She let her fingertips circle the head of his cock, grinning as he growled low in his throat.
“Be my guest.”
He’d made her scream with pleasure when he was deep inside her. Later, he made her moan in delight when he slipped a forkful of tomato-garlic-coated spaghetti into her open mouth. He’d not only cooked, but he’d sponged and wiped the counters while she put the dishes away (the least she could do after he’d provided such a delicious meal) and then led her back to bed to spend the rest of the night making love.
In between, they dozed, his forearm wrapped about her, his breathing steady against the shell of her ear, his muscled body curled about hers, his solid presence protecting, comforting.
They talked too. Holding hands in the dark, they talked about Hayley and how funny and clever she was. Then Jade spoke about her family and how good it felt to be contributing to Rosewood Farm’s success through her riding program and the training she did with Rosewood’s young horses. But it was when Rob told her about the arrests he’d made the day before that she knew beyond a doubt: She’d fallen totally and comple
tely in love with him. And the feeling was as scary as she’d thought it would be.
At the words drug runner and Glock, cold fear gripped her. She turned in his arms, desperate to see his face. “You arrested a drug runner? And he had a gun? You could have been killed.”
“I can handle myself.”
“But …” The fear was attacking her brain, making her thoughts sluggish.
“I’m a cop, Jade. My job has its dangers. For the most part they’re few and far between, but I’m never careless. You and I both know from experience that a life can end at any time.”
He was right. A life could end at any time, whether from a terrible, tragic accident or simply from doing the job one loved. Just as being a police officer held risks, so, too, did the kind of riding Jade did. He wouldn’t ask her to stop riding—the sport was in her blood and marrow; being a cop was an equally integral part of who Rob was.
“I’m glad you’re safe,” she said quietly, determinedly beating back the fear.
“I do have at least a couple of reasons to live.” Taking her hand, he’d pressed his mouth to her knuckles, and her heart squeezed at the gentle gesture.
This was it, she thought. She should tell Rob how she felt, let him know that she’d fallen for him. Openness in a relationship, along with safe sex, was what she’d always advised to the readers in her column.
But dispensing words of wisdom was a lot easier than putting them into practice. Being upfront about Topher’s kiss had been easy. He meant nothing to her. Revealing that Rob held her heart terrified her.
Keeping the words locked inside, she gazed at him, searching out his features in the shadows of the darkened room.
“Just stay safe, okay?” she said, pressing her mouth to the base of his throat and feeling a sweet piercing pleasure as he pulled her closer still, settling her against the muscled wall of his chest.
“Always,” he promised.
Cocooned in his embrace, she listened to the rhythm of his breathing deepen and slow, only then whispering the words she’d been too scared to utter before.
“I love you.”
HE COULD get used to waking up with Jade. It wasn’t even dawn when her alarm clock buzzed, but Rob found himself smiling anyway. An armful of warm Jade was a great reason to smile.
Remembering their lovemaking from the night before made his smile grow. Then, when she rolled over to sprawl on him, her breasts pressing against his chest, her hair a mad tangle teasing his skin, and her eyes glowing with a happy mischief, another part of him grew too.
Jade was nothing if not observant. Brushing her thigh against his erection, she said with a playful grin, “Top of the morning to you too. Feel like taking a shower with me, big guy, before I go take care of my ponies?”
“I’m pretty sure that answer is what’s termed a no-brainer.” He laughed.
“Well, I didn’t know how quick on the draw you might be in the morning,” she teased. “Though parts of you seem pretty alert.”
He swatted her lightly on the butt. “Let’s get wet.”
Yeah, she was fun and energetic and game, and he loved having her long legs wrapped around his hips, meeting him thrust for grinding thrust while hot jets sprayed down upon them. She came in a shuddering climax, triggering his own near-violent release. The kisses she rained over his face as they both regained their senses were hotter than the shower.
She was also surprisingly sweet. He loved her shy smile of unexpected pleasure when, after dressing—he in his jeans and she in a pair of breeches and a cable-knit sweater that looked about as old as she—he offered to help her with the ponies.
“You sure you don’t need to leave?”
“I’ve got some time. I’d like to spend it with you.”
“Well, all right, then.”
And his heart swelled when she slipped her hand in his. As slim and strong as the rest of her, it felt good—and right—in his grasp.
“I’ll make you breakfast afterward,” she continued as they headed out into the crisp morning air. “I do an outstanding bowl of cereal.”
Feeding and watering the ponies was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He found himself chuckling at the ponies’ excited whinnies when he and Jade, arms loaded with hay, approached the stalls. The sounds the animals made changed then, and the air filled with grinding and munching and slower contented snorts. Jade made quick work of watering, dragging a hose from stall to stall and replenishing the buckets. Though it was fun, he also appreciated the dedication and time it took to care for the horses at Rosewood, day in and day out, in good weather and bad. Jade was probably so used to this life, she wouldn’t see it as the huge responsibility it was.
By the time they’d finished giving the ponies their breakfast and were making their way back to Jade’s cottage, the sun had risen. The dewy grass glistened and the leaves on the trees sparkled bright red and gold.
“It’s beautiful here,” he said as they paused before the cottage’s front step.
“Yeah, it is.” She opened the door and stepped inside, shucking her sweater. “We’re lucky. Even with Margot taking on fewer modeling jobs, we’ve managed to keep Rosewood Farm operating in the black. Jordan’s design company, Rosewood Designs, is doing well, so she’s able to put some of the money she makes back into the farm. If I can build up my lesson program, then I’ll be able to do the same.”
Walking as she talked, she led him back toward the kitchen, making a beeline for the coffeemaker. Grabbing two cups, she filled them with steaming coffee, handed him one, and smiled. “I should give you fair warning that the real goal of the children’s riding program is to make lifelong horse nuts out of each and every one of my students. It’s a sport that comes with a pretty steep price tag. But because you seem like a nice guy, I’ll give you a really good deal on that first Rosewood horse you buy for Hayley.”
He opened the fridge and took out a container of milk. At her nod, he poured some into her cup and then into his own. Leaning against the counter, he took a sip. His eyebrows rose in surprise.
“This is great coffee.”
“Thanks.” She seemed ridiculously pleased at the compliment. “Owen taught me how. He takes things like good coffee very seriously. We’ve turned him on to horses too.”
“In Hayley’s case, I think it’s safe to say she’s already a horse nut. But at least now I’ve been warned. I’ll open a horse fund to go with the college fund I started when she was a newborn.”
“You opened a college fund for her? Good for you.”
The wistful note in her voice had him remembering that her father left his three daughters with what rumor had was a prodigious pile of debt. He was suddenly glad that she had such a close bond with her sisters. “So how about that cereal you promised to wow me with?”
“Coming right up.” She, too, seemed to want to avoid any melancholy memories. “I can also do toast. Ellie Banner, Rosewood’s housekeeper, gave me some strawberry jam she made.”
He grinned. “Cereal and toast with strawberry jam. I’m overwhelmed. Can I help?”
“No, it’s totally under control. You can keep the coffee coming, though.”
He sat at the small kitchen table while she set about preparing their breakfast. Once she’d placed the cereal and the toast on the table and brought over the butter and jam, she sank into the chair beside him and launched into a lively commentary on the art of buttering toast.
The performance, a riff on a TV cooking show, was damned entertaining. The joy she got out of explaining how to spread sliver-thin slices of butter over warm toast and exactly how much jam should be allotted for each slice was infectious—the joy she got out of life was infectious.
She was good for him.
He wanted more. Much more, he decided. He wanted days with Jade and her quick intelligence and offbeat humor. He wanted nights with her generosity and passion.
She’d finished her first slice of toast. No time like the present, he decided. “I was wondering if you migh
t be free to—” he began, only to have his sentence interrupted by the peal of her cell.
She picked it up off the table where she’d deposited it when they came into the kitchen. Her lips pursed as she read the display. “It’s Topher.” She sighed. “I should see what he wants.”
Rob could have told her what he wanted, but he didn’t want to spoil the morning. Furthermore, he didn’t believe in wasting his breath. She’d already thumbed the button and said, “Hello?”
She was silent while Topher made what was evidently a long-winded pitch.
“Sorry, Topher. I can’t tonight. I have to prepare for school tomorrow.” She paused to listen to his reply, and Rob saw her green eyes flash with annoyance. “Yeah, well, you’d be surprised how much time goes into preparing for a full day of school. On top of that, the class is starting a new social-studies unit.”
She fell silent again. “Okay, I guess I have time for that. I’ll see you later.”
She ended the call and caught his look. “What?”
“Are you going out with him again?”
“No—not really.” She opened the box of cereal she’d selected from the cupboard and poured it into two large ceramic bowls that were white with multicolored dots. She passed him one bowl and the carton of milk. “I’ll let you pour. How much milk to use on cereal is such an individual decision.”
He waited several beats, and when it was clear she wasn’t going to pick up the dangling thread of her earlier comment, he said, “So, ‘not really’—what does that mean?”
She gave him a long look. “It means that I refused to go out to dinner but said I’d be willing to be around the barn at four this afternoon when he comes to sign the papers for Carmen. Why he needs me around is a deep mystery, since Margot and Travis are the deal makers and Ned and Felix know Carmen better than anyone. But, as I told you before, we’re keeping our horse farm afloat financially—not an easy thing to do in this economic climate—and we wouldn’t be even glimpsing a profit if we went around alienating our clients. Does that answer your question?”