Buckhorn Beginnings

by Lori Foster

  Morgan tapped on the door and stuck his head inside. “You found the note?”

  Sawyer quickly folded it. Since he hadn’t put pants on yet he had nowhere to put it. “Yeah. It, uh, it said she’d leave the car at the bus station with the keys locked inside, just like she told us.”

  Morgan crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. He still wore only jeans, but he had at least put the gun away. “I don’t suppose you’d let me see the note?”

  “Why?”

  “Idle curiosity?”

  Sawyer grunted. “Yeah, right. More like plain old nosiness.” Sawyer kept his back to his brother, more than a little aware of how obvious his erection was at this point.

  His gaze met Morgan’s in the mirror over the dresser, and he saw Morgan was struggling to contain his grin. “I gather you got something to hide there?”

  Opening a drawer and pulling out a casual pair of khakis, Sawyer mumbled negligently, “Don’t know why you’d think that.”

  “The way you’re clutching that note? And acting so secretive and protective?” He laughed. “Don’t worry. I won’t say a word. Take your time getting dressed. I think I’ll just go round up something to eat.”

  “Morgan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t mention to her that I have the note.”

  “Whatever you say, Sawyer.” Then he laughed again and walked away.

  After carefully easing his zipper up and buttoning his slacks, Sawyer smoothed out the note, removing the wrinkles caused by his fist. He neatly folded it and slid it into his back pocket, making certain it was tucked completely out of sight. He’d talk to her about the note—hell, yes, he had a lot to say about it—but that could be taken care of after everything else was straightened out.

  He didn’t bother with a shirt or shoes, and when he entered the kitchen, he saw the rest of the men had felt the same. Gabe had on shorts; Morgan and Jordan wore jeans.

  Honey was at the stove cooking.

  His every instinct sharpened at the sight of her. She, too, was barefoot, her hair now pulled back in a long, sleek ponytail that swished right above her pert behind—a smooth, very soft behind he’d stroked with his palms. As he drank in the sight of her with new admiration, he felt like a predator, ready to close in. With that tell-all note, she’d sealed her own fate. He wanted her, and now that he knew she wanted him, too, he’d have her; he wasn’t noble enough to do otherwise. After the other issues were resolved, he’d explain to her one more time how he felt about commitment, and then they’d deal with the personal issue of lust.

  He glanced at his brothers, who sat around the table like a platoon waiting to be fed, and he frowned. They shrugged back, each wearing a comical face of helplessness. Sawyer growled a curse and stepped up to Honey. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Without raising her head, she barked back, “Cooking.”

  His brows lifted. He heard one of the brothers snicker. Crossing his arms over his naked chest, he said, “You wanna tell me why?”

  She whirled, a hot spatula in her hand, which she pointed at his chest, forcing him to take a hasty step back. “Because I’m hungry. And because they’re hungry!” The spatula swung wildly to encompass the men, who quickly nodded in agreement to her fierce look. “And I’m tired of being coddled and treated like I’m helpless. You want me to stay, fine. I’ll stay. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to lay around and be waited on and feel like I owe the lot of you.”

  Sawyer leaned away from the blast of her anger, totally bowled over by this new temperament. Cautiously, he took another step back. “No one wants you to feel beholden.”

  “Well, I do!”

  “Okay, okay.” He tried to soothe her and got a dirty look for his efforts. “You want to cook, fine,” he added with a calm he didn’t feel.

  “Ha! I wasn’t asking your permission. And don’t try that placating tone on me because Jordan already did. And he’s much better at it than you are.”

  He glanced at his brother, only to see Jordan’s ears turn red. She was intimidating his brothers! Sawyer crowded close again and opened his mouth, only to meet that spatula once more.

  “And don’t try bullying me, because Morgan has been at it since I met him, and I’m not putting up with it anymore. Do you know he told me I wasn’t allowed to cook because I was sick? He tried to force me to sit down. Well, I’ll sit down when I’m good and ready. Not before.”

  Sawyer had no idea what had set her off this time, but he almost grinned, anxious to find out. Now that he’d decided against denying himself, he wanted to absorb her every nuance instead of fighting against her allure.

  “Am I allowed to ask what you’re cooking, or will you threaten me with that spatula again?”

  She tilted her head, saw he wasn’t going to argue with her and nodded. “Grilled ham and cheese. Do you know Gabe was about to give that box of cookies to Casey? Or at least, the ones he hadn’t already eaten. If we’re going to do this interrogation, we might as well eat properly, rather than shoving sugar down our throats.”

  Sawyer looked at Gabe in time to see him sneak a cookie from his lap and pop it into his mouth. He laughed out loud.

  “You think that’s funny? And here you are a doctor. You should be telling them about healthy diets and all that.”

  “Honey, have you looked at my brothers? They’re all pretty damn physically fit.”

  She tucked her chin in, and a delicate flush rose on her cheeks. “Yeah, well, I noticed, but Casey is still a growing boy. He should eat better.” She put another sandwich on a plate, and it was only then Sawyer noticed there were six plates, meaning she’d made one for him, too. The sandwiches were neatly cut, and there were pickle slices and carrot curls beside them. He honestly didn’t think any of his brothers had ever in their lives eaten carrot curls.

  She’d turned the coffeepot off and poured glasses of milk instead. Sawyer started carrying plates to the table, since his brothers had evidently been ordered to sit, given that none of them were moving much. They all looked uncomfortable, but then, they weren’t used to getting waited on. Their mother hadn’t been the type to mollycoddle once they’d all gotten taller than her, which had happened at the tail end of grade school.

  “Casey gets more physical exercise than most grown men. And he gets a good variety of things to eat. My mother harped on that plenty when he was first born.”

  Casey grinned. “And they’re all still at it. I get measured almost daily to make sure I’m still growing like I should be, and because Grandma calls and checks. She says the good part is, they all eat more vegetables and fruits because they keep the stuff around for me.”

  Honey looked slightly mollified by their explanations. Sawyer held her chair out for her, and as she sat, he smoothed his palm down the tail of her hair, letting his fingers trail all the way to the base of her spine, where they lingered for a heartbeat. He imagined her incredible hair, so silky and cool, loose over his naked body as she rode him, his hands clamped on her hips to hold her firm against him. A rush of primal recognition made his breath catch. He wanted to pick her up from the table and carry her off to his room.

  Of course he wouldn’t do that, so he ignored the startled look she gave him and forced himself to step away.

  Everyone waited until she’d taken her first bite, then they dug in with heartfelt groans of savory appreciation. It was good, Sawyer had to admit, even the damn carrot curls.

  Sitting directly across from her, he couldn’t help but watch as Honey took a small bite of her own sandwich. His thoughts wandered again to the note. She wanted him. He forgot to chew as he watched her slender fingers pick up a sliver of carrot, watched her soft lips close around it. He saw her lashes lower, saw soft wisps of blond hair fall over her temple.

  Gabe nudged him, and he choked.

  “I don’t mean to drag you from whatever ruminations you were mired in, but don’t you want to ask her some questions? I mean, that is why we’re all up at two
in the morning, gathered around the table eating instead of sleeping, right?”

  Sawyer drank half his milk to wash down the bite of sandwich and nodded. “Come on, Honey. ’Fess up.”

  She sent him a fractious glare, but she did pat her mouth with her napkin, then folded her hands primly as if preparing to be a sacrifice. She didn’t look at anyone in particular, but neither did she lower her face. She stared between him and Gabe, her chin lifted, her shoulders squared.

  “I found out my fiancé had only asked to marry me to inherit my father’s assets. All his stock, his company, the family home, is willed to my future husband, whoever the man might be.”

  There was a shock of silence as they all tried to comprehend such a mercenary act, but Sawyer was more tuned to her features. This was such a blow to her pride; he saw that now. He shouldn’t have forced this confrontation, certainly not in front of everyone.

  “Honey…”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She still hadn’t looked at him. Her fingers nervously pleated her napkin, but her chin stayed high. “My father and I never got along. I love him, but I don’t like him much. I think he feels the same way about me. He’s always resented having daughters instead of sons.” Her gaze touched on each of them, and she gave a small smile. “He’d love the lot of you, a household full of big, capable men. But my sister and I never quite measured up.”

  “I have to tell you, I don’t like your father much.”

  She laughed at Jordan. “Yeah, well, he’s had hell putting up with me. We’ve butted heads since I was sixteen. When I refused to get involved in the business, which is basically electronics, new computer hardware and very state-of-the-art sort of things, he cut me out of his will. I knew it, but I didn’t care. What I didn’t know is that he’d changed the will to benefit the man I’d someday marry.” Her mouth tightened and her eyes flickered away. Then in a whisper, she finished. “When Alden started pursuing me, I thought it was because he cared. Not because he had discovered my father’s intentions.”

  There was, of course, the natural barrage of questions. Sawyer got up and moved to sit beside her but remained silent, letting his brothers do the interrogating. He no longer had the heart for it. He picked up her cold hand from her lap and cradled it between his own. She clutched at him, squeezing his fingers tight, but otherwise made no sign of even noticing his touch.

  Gently, Gabe asked, “Why didn’t you want to be in your father’s business?”

  She answered without hesitation. “It’s a cutthroat environment. Company spies, takeovers, social climbers. It kept my father away from home the entire time my sister and I were growing up. I hate the business. I’d never involve myself in it. I wasn’t even keen on marrying a man who worked for my father. But Alden led me to believe he was content with the position of regional manager, that he didn’t aspire to anything more. It seemed…like a good idea.”

  She blushed making that admission, and Sawyer rubbed his thumb over her knuckles to comfort her. “Because your father approved of Alden?”

  “Yes.” She looked shamed, and he almost pulled her into his lap, then her shoulders stiffened and he saw her gather herself. In many ways, he was as drawn by her spirit and pride as he was by the sexual chemistry that shimmered between them.

  She sighed. “I hadn’t realized I was still trying to gain my father’s approval. But then I went to see Alden at the office, to discuss some of the wedding plans, and his secretary was out to lunch. I heard him talking on the phone about his new status once the marriage was final. I listened just long enough to find out he was making grand plans, all because marrying me would put him in a better social and professional position. It hit me that I was angry and embarrassed over being so stupid, but I wasn’t…I wasn’t lovesick over learning the truth. In fact, I was sort of relieved to have a good reason to break things off, strange as that may sound. So I went back to his house, packed and left him the note.”

  Morgan rubbed his chin. “Company status seems like a pretty good reason for him to want you back, to possibly be following you.”

  She shrugged. “But why try to hurt me? Why try to run me off the road? Without me, there’d be no marriage and then he’d gain nothing. And when my sister’s house was broken into, what were they looking for? That’s what doesn’t make sense. Alden is already in a good financial position. And as my father’s regional manager, he’s on his way to the top of the company. It’s not like he needed to marry me to get anywhere. All that would accomplish was to speed things along.”

  “Maybe.” Morgan finished his last carrot curl, then got up to fetch a pencil and paper. “I want you to write down your father’s name, the company name, addresses for both and for this Alden ass, and anything else you can think of. I’ll check on some things in the morning.” He hushed her before she could speak. “Discreetly. I promise. No one will follow you here from anything I say or do.”

  She tugged on Sawyer’s hand, and he released her so she could write. Gabe stood up with a yawn. “I’ll start work on your car tomorrow, as long as you promise you won’t go anywhere without telling one of us first.”

  Absently, she nodded, her attention on making her list for Morgan.

  “Good. Then I’m off to bed. Come on, Casey. You look like you’re ready to collapse under the table.”

  Casey grinned tiredly, but rather than leave, he walked around the table and gave Honey a brief kiss on the forehead. She looked up, appearing both startled and pleased by the gesture.

  Casey smiled down at her. “Thanks for the sandwich. It was way better than cookies.”

  Morgan gently clasped the back of her neck when he took the note from her. “I can see why you’ve been cautious, but that’s over now, right?”

  When she didn’t agree quickly enough, he wobbled her head. “Right?”

  She gave him a disgruntled frown. “Yes.”

  “Good girl. I’ll see you in the morning. Saywer, you should hit the sack, too. You got almost no sleep the night before, and you’re starting to look like a zombie.”

  Sawyer waved him off. He was anxious for everyone to get the hell out of the room. He had a few things he wanted to say to Honey that would be better said in private.

  Jordan pulled her out of her chair for a hug. “Sleep tight, Honey. And no more worrying. Everything will be okay now. Sawyer will take good care of you.”

  She glanced at Sawyer, then quickly away. He wondered if his intentions showed on his face, given the timid way she avoided looking right at him. He didn’t doubt it was possible. He felt like a sexual powder keg with a very short fuse.

  Finally they were alone in the kitchen. Honey gathered up the plates and carried them to the dishwasher, her movements unnaturally jerky and nervous. Sawyer watched her through hot eyes, tracking her as she came back to the table for the glasses.

  “You’re feeling better?”

  “Yes.” She deftly loaded the dishwasher, as much to keep from looking at him as anything else. He could feel her reservations, her uncertainty. He stepped close enough to inhale her spicy scent, leaning down so his nose almost touched her nape, exposed by the way she’d tied her hair back. She stilled, resting her hands on the edge of the counter. She kept her back to him, and when she spoke, her voice was breathy. “My…my throat is still a little sore, but I don’t feel so wrung out. I think all the sleep helped.”

  He crowded closer still and placed his hands beside hers, caging her in. Deliberately he allowed his chest to press against her shoulder blades. “I have patients in the morning, but in the afternoon I’ll take you into town to get a few things.”

  “Things?”

  “Whatever you might need.” He nuzzled the soft skin beneath her ear. “More clothes, definitely shoes.” His mouth touched her earlobe. “Anything you want.”

  “I’ll pay for it myself.”

  “Not unless you have cash. Your credit cards can be traced.” He kissed her skin softly, then added, “We can call it a brief loan if that’ll make
you feel better.” He had no intention of letting her pay him back, but she didn’t need to know that now. Fighting with her was the absolute last thing on his mind.

  Her head fell forward. “All right.”

  He pulled his hands slowly from the counter, letting them trail up her arms to her sides, then down and around to her belly. He heard her suck in a quick, startled breath. His body throbbed; he nestled his erection against her soft behind, finding some comfort from the razor edge of arousal and intensifying the ache at the same time. His fingers kneaded her soft, flat belly, and when she moaned, he trailed one hand higher to her breast, free beneath the smooth cotton of the T-shirt.

  Just as she’d done the last time he’d touched her there, she jerked violently, as if the mere press of his fingers was both an acute pleasure and an electrifying pain. His heart thundered at the feel of her soft weight in his hand. Her nipple was already peaked, burning against his palm. She’d instinctively pulled backward from the touch of his hand, and now she was pressed hard against him.

  He adjusted his hold, one hand clamping on her breast, the other opened wide over her abdomen. In a growled whisper, he said, “I read your note.”

  As he’d expected, she exploded into motion, trying to get away. He held her secure with his firm hold and said, “Shh. Shh, it’s all right.”

  She sounded panicked. “I…I’d forgotten!”

  “I know.” He didn’t release her, adjusting his hold to keep her still, to keep her right where he wanted her. “I should let you sleep. I should give you time to think about this. But I want you too much. Now.”

  He could feel her trembling, the rapid hammering of her heart. He turned his hand slightly until his thumb could drag over her sensitive nipple, flicking once, twice. Her hands gripped the countertop hard, and she panted.

  Opening his mouth on her throat, he sucked the delicate skin against his teeth. He wanted to mark her; he wanted to devour her. The primitive urges were new to him, but he no longer fought against them. She was his now, and there was no going back.