Waiting For Yes

by Claire Ashgrove

  She shoved her feet in her tall, rubber boots. “Jake?”

  “Yeah?”

  As she entered her living room, she stopped in the doorway and noted his soaked clothes. “Did you fall?”

  “Hardly.” His voice held an annoyed edge. The way he tossed the logs into a pile at the corner of the fireplace with more force than necessary provided another hint something had happened to his pleasant demeanor. Likely, he’d decided she wasn’t pulling her weight.

  “I’ll get that and start the fire,” she offered. “Why don’t you go relax in the shower?”

  Without looking at her, he answered, “I need to bring in some more wood.”

  “I can do it. It’s late. You’re soaked. You need some rest.”

  He shook his head. “No, you’re not going out in that.” The last log thumped into place on top of the stack, then rolled sideways onto the floor. He dusted his hands on his wet jeans and turned around to face her. “I’ll get them.”

  Her gaze strayed to the large picture window. “Is it that bad out?”

  “It’s cold and wet and blowing like hell.”

  Another gust of wind howled down the chimney, bringing with it a short burst of darkness as the electricity blipped once more.

  Gabrielle wound her hands together. She couldn’t just stand around and do nothing while Jake lugged wood through a winter blast. There had to be something she could do. Help him out. At least make it comfortable for him when he finished.

  She smiled as an idea took hold. “I’ll put some coffee on. Maybe the power will hold out that long.”

  With a curt nod, Jake shouldered past her heading for the door once more.

  When it closed, she jogged back to her bedroom and inside her walk-in closet. Soaked clothes were never comfortable, and as far as she could tell, he hadn’t brought along an extra pair. He hadn’t put anything in her truck except his coat.

  At the back of the closet, she tugged out a small box and opened it. Pulling out a pair of gray sweatpants, she held them up to inspect them. Close. Jake looked similar to her brother’s build. Not identical, but close enough the clothes he’d left in her dryer last Thanksgiving ought to fit. Besides, even if they were a little snug, they’d be warm and dry.

  She reached into the box and pulled out both a navy T-shirt and a black long-sleeved Henley. Jake could pick. Maybe, like Cole, he’d wear both, the T over the other. She tossed them over her arm and left her bedroom. On the way down the hall, she stopped in the bathroom to set the clothes and fresh towels out, before she returned to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

  Jake stomped in again, bringing with him a thick layer of snowy footprints that quickly soaked into her floor. “That smells good,” he remarked as he tromped by, arms laden.

  “It’ll be ready in a few minutes. What can I do to help, Jake? I hate it that you’re doing all the work.”

  He reappeared in her doorway. A boyish grin danced on his mouth. “Nothing you can do, sugar. This’ll get us through if we lose the power. Mind if I use your shower?”

  A window rattled as another fierce gust of icy air hit the house. In response, the kitchen lights faded to a dull, brownish light.

  When the hanging light over her kitchen table didn’t brighten, Gabrielle flipped the switch on the wall to shut the fixture off. “You, ah, better hurry.” She opened a cupboard and grabbed a long flashlight. She passed it to Jake. “I set some of my brother’s clothes in the bathroom for you. I hope they fit.”

  His smile dimmed. His eyes held hers as he closed his fingers around the offered light. Dark and intense, that blue gaze pierced deep, filled with something she couldn’t quite recognize. A little charge of energy jumped up her arm, skittered down her spine, and tumbled around in her belly. Good Lord.

  Time to put distance between them. Before that intimate stare got the better of her, and she did something foolish like throw herself at him and kiss him until she couldn’t see straight. A man shouldn’t look at a woman that way. Especially in near darkness.

  Letting out a shaky laugh, she withdrew her hand. “I’m going to light the candles. The water pump won’t work without electricity.”

  “Yeah.”

  His gravelly whisper sent a chill tumbling to her toes. The hairs on her arms stood upright, and she shivered.

  ****

  Jake sucked in a deep breath, turned toward the arch, and stalked to the bathroom. He flipped on the light switch, relieved to find the electricity working. Damn it all, something about Gabrielle enchanted him. As if he’d been plugged into a high-voltage circuit, when he stood near her, every particle of his being arced toward her, begging for the feel of her body against his.

  She was everything he didn’t want—rich, spoiled, and a horsewoman. All right, so he didn’t quite know about the spoiled part, but it wasn’t illogical.

  A woman who owned this much land, who possessed stables larger than many people’s houses, didn’t come by that on her own. Not at Gabrielle’s age.

  Besides, he remembered why her last name had sounded familiar. The Warrentons had competed against him and his mother many times. They were a good family, took excellent care of their horses, and their reputation for Polish Arabians was superior; their breeding program one of the finest in the nation. One hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars for an embryo out of a two-year-old filly—those figures didn’t happen with anything less than the best.

  No doubt Gabrielle was accustomed to that lifestyle.

  But why was she here in Kansas?

  The question plagued him as he lathered soap over his body. Why would a woman who had everything, who could have easily cornered off a portion of her parents’ property to piddle with Egyptians instead of Polishes, pack up and move to a town of three hundred people, max, in the middle of nowhere, Kansas?

  He shook his head, dripping water into his face. None of that mattered. He didn’t need to know her history. This wasn’t anything he intended on pursuing long-term. Not unless she planned on selling off her livestock and taking up a life on the road.

  But damn, when she’d told him she’d set out clothes, something inside him ground down so tight he couldn’t breathe. Such a trivial thing.

  Yet she’d thought of him. One thing, specifically for his benefit.

  How long had it been? How long had he kept women so far at bay he hadn’t had the pleasure of experiencing a random act of kindness?

  Too damn long.

  He tipped his head back to rinse the soap out of his hair and chuckled. Flowers. Who’d have thought he’d find himself in a gorgeous redhead’s shower, sudsing up with her perfumed soap and shampoo?

  As he reached for the faucets, a low hum filled the room. A distant pop echoed beyond the window. In a blink, the bathroom went black.

  Alone with a redhead who set his blood to a fierce boil with a single look.

  In the firelight. Nothing to offer a distraction without electricity.

  Damn, he’d never get through the night in one piece. Keeping his hands off her would kill him.

  Chapter Seven

  Using the wall as a guide, Jake navigated down the dark hall. A faint orange glow flickered against the dining room walls, beckoning him toward the living room where Gabrielle waited.

  It had been a long time since he’d shared a fire with a woman. Houston didn’t exactly create the cold winters that invited the cozy comfort. In fact, the only night he remembered that came close to this was a long ago trip to Vail, Colorado, with Amy—the girl who’d almost been. But hell, that must have been six, maybe seven, years ago. And he’d been too busy thinking about horses and winning the weekend competition to appreciate the setting. Maybe tonight…

  No.

  Tonight had nothing to do with romance. Gabrielle had invited him in out of a blizzard, not to get cozy on her living room floor. Besides, sleeping with her opened complications he didn’t need. Didn’t want. Not to mention it was nearly four in the morning. She’d probably hand him a flas
hlight and direct him to her guest room.

  Rounding the corner, he entered the front room and took in the play of light and shadows against the wall. As his gaze swept past her front door, over a hanging portrait of a bay horse, and drifted to her stone hearth, he stopped short. Captured by the vision Gabrielle created, he could do no more than stare.

  She’d spread blankets on the plush white carpet. Two distinctly separate pallets that told him though the guest room wasn’t where she intended to send him, she had no intention of inviting him into where she slept. Her back to him, she straightened the foot of the makeshift beds. As her delicate hands smoothed out wrinkles, her gaze stayed on the downy blue comforter, the softness in her expression spellbinding.

  For one fleeting moment he wanted to hold onto forever, she was soft, feminine, and heavenly. His heart clanged into his ribs.

  Beautiful.

  No, beautiful sounded too ordinary. Breathtaking.

  The crackle and pop of wood accompanied a bright burst of sparks that danced across Gabrielle’s fiery hair, accenting its deep auburn hue with streaks of light. God, he’d like to slide his fingers through those silken lengths. Watch the light glint and sparkle.

  He closed his eyes, shook off the fleeting imagery, and took a step forward. A board creaked beneath his foot and brought Gabrielle around to face him.

  The smile she gave him sent his pulse into double time.

  She gestured at the blankets. “I thought we’d stay warmer out here. If the electricity stays off, the house is old enough it’ll get drafty quick.”

  Jake couldn’t answer. Instead, he gave her a short, curt nod while issuing his feet a sharp order to move. Stop staring. She’ll think you’re nuts.

  He closed the distance in four short strides and dropped down across from her. “Looks cozy.”

  She let out a little chuckle. “I guess it’s not bad for blankets on a hard floor.”

  “Sugar, it’s damn sure more comfortable than the bed in my truck.” Patting the feather pillow, he emphasized his statement. “And cheap motels don’t have these.”

  Gabrielle’s expression shifted. It assumed a piercing curiosity as she tipped her head to the side. “It must get lonely,” she murmured. “Being on the road all the time. Is it?”

  Lonely didn’t begin to describe the hell of spending night after night on the nation’s interstates. Though it helped him escape the haunting memories of Houston, the constant travel took its toll. Some days he’d sacrifice his soul to have a few moments of human interaction. Something more than the crackle of masculine voices through a CB radio. Nights were the hardest. When the voices faded, his compatriots giving in to sleep, he had to confront himself. His failures.

  He answered with a slow nod.

  “Why do you do it?” Her gaze probed deep, her voice dropped.

  Because I can’t face my mother’s ghost. “It’s my job.” He added a shrug, trying for nonchalance. He didn’t dare tell her about his mother. She’d know who he was in an instant. Beyond that, his mother, her death, and his role in it, was something he didn’t discuss. Under any circumstance.

  A little frown marred her brow. “You must love it to some degree. Otherwise, why stay?”

  “It’s what I know how to do.” Because he’d been raised under the expectation he’d take over his mother’s training facility. Because he’d intended to spend the rest of his life training Arabian horses. More information he didn’t intend to share with Gabrielle.

  “No college?”

  Not a lick. “Nah. Wasn’t ever the book kind of guy.” Unless it came to historical fiction. Those novels he loved.

  Gabrielle surprised him with a smile. “Me neither.”

  He blinked. “None?”

  “I took a couple ag classes at K-State, but school wasn’t my thing. Horses were. Daddy expected me to walk in his shoes, and when I said I couldn’t stand college, he rushed me home to help him with the horses.”

  “No tutors growing up?”

  Her cheeks took on a definite pink tone as she nodded. “When I was younger, yes. Probably why I can’t tolerate the classroom.”

  Finally, a bit of the life he knew she’d led poked through. Little rich girl—like so many others his years in the Arabian world exposed him to. Jake let out a low chuckle and reclined on the pallet with his arms folded behind his head. He let the silence engulf him as he stared at the ceiling and listened to the fire. Rustling blankets told him she’d stretched out as well.

  “I’m sorry I got you into this, Jake.”

  He rolled onto his side and propped up his head with an elbow. She lay beside him, mirroring his position. Her long hair tumbled over her shoulder to her elbow. Her free hand lay flat against the carpet between them. For the first time, he noticed her nails were short. Painted a pretty earth tone that spoke of practical. Another contradiction to his understanding of her upbringing. Unable to resist temptation, he covered the back of her hand with his palm. “You didn’t get me into anything. I volunteered, remember?”

  Her gaze dropped to where he touched her before lifting to his again. “The snow and everything—you’re stuck in the middle of nowhere.”

  “If you can control the weather, sugar, I’d better keep you around.” He gave her a grin as he squeezed her hand.

  Her eyes held his. They beckoned him further, dared him to forget circumstance, to believe in the fantastical and give in to the pleasant tingle that surged through his body. He toyed with her hand, lifting it and flattening his palm to hers. So tiny. If he bent his knuckles, that dainty digit would disappear. Strangely, the observation sent a fresh burst of energy thrumming through his veins. “You’re forgetting something.”

  “Oh?”

  She didn’t look at him. Instead, she focused on where they touched. Her throat worked in a swallow, and Jake’s body tightened. To hell with pretending. He wanted her.

  He threaded his fingers through hers, taking a deep breath against the sudden, erratic rhythm of his pulse. In a near-whisper, he answered, “Stuck in the middle of nowhere with you.”

  Her gaze inched back to his as she swallowed once more. The tip of her tongue darted out, moistening her lips in a manner that made him want to groan aloud.

  “Jake—”

  “I want to kiss you.”

  ****

  Excitement bubbled through Gabrielle’s body as Jake’s gravelly voice washed over her. Her chest tightened. Little prickles of sensation bunched her stomach together in nervous anticipation. She dipped her head in a nod, but it didn’t matter. Jake was already there, his mouth a breath away from hers.

  She closed her eyes on a jittery exhale. When his lips met hers, her heart kicked against her ribs and then jumped into an erratic beat. He drew her lower lip between his, letting go only to reclaim it again. Coaxing. Encouraging. Everything inside her melted.

  Heaven. His mouth intoxicated her. Like fine champagne she’d drunk too much of, he carried her senses away. He nudged her lips apart, and the tip of his tongue touched hers. With a renegade murmur of pleasure, she let sensation reign. Her fingers tightened against his as she returned his seeking thrusts.

  Jake pulled his hand away from hers to bury his fingers in her hair. Angling her head where he wanted it, he deepened the kiss, his slow inquisition transforming into a hungry advance that demanded nothing less than her full surrender. Wow. She’d dreamt of being kissed like this. By a man who knew what he wanted. But the reality… It put her fantasies to shame. Like being at the apex of a roller coaster’s descent and plunging down at breakneck speed. Her stomach flipped, her pulse skyrocketed. Behind a thin veil of fear, excitement burst.

  God, don’t stop.

  He shifted, the motion threatening her balance. She grabbed his shoulder to steady herself. Warmth radiated off his body as he moved closer, soaking through her clothes to simmer in her veins. In the next heartbeat, his shoulder touched hers, followed by the firmness of his chest. He leaned his weight into her, a slow, delibera
te pressure that pushed her onto her back.

  As she settled against her pillow, she looped her arms around his neck and toyed with his hair. He slid his fingers to the side of her throat. His heart drummed against hers, his ragged breath matching hers. Gabrielle chanced a glance through slitted eyelids. Eyes closed, his face filled with sensuality.

  As if he sensed her looking, he drew the kiss to a lingering close and opened his eyes to meet her gaze. Flecked with a darker shade of indigo, his bright blue eyes shone dark. They spoke volumes, conveying his arousal in no uncertain terms.

  He pressed his forehead to hers, closed his eyes, and drew in a long, shaky breath. “Gabrielle,” he murmured on an exhale.

  Slipping her fingers through his hair, she offered him a shy smile. “What?” she whispered.

  Jake didn’t answer with words. With a slight shake of his head, he sought her mouth once more.

  Gabrielle let out a soft sigh and gave it to him without hesitation. At first insistent, his kiss dominated. Hard and demanding, his lips bruised hers, his assault nothing less than an act of conquest. But as if he combated an inner war, the embrace softened just as quickly. Returning to the same gentleness he’d given her at first, he took his time. Explored as if he intended to do nothing but treat her to this fantastic pleasure.

  She placed a palm against his cheek. Her other hand twined in his hair. The subtle scratch of day-old whiskers scraped her face, strangely enticing. How many years had passed since she’d experienced whisker burn? Too many to remember. Besides, she didn’t want any memory invading on this moment. Intrusions only spoiled the magic. Magic that quickly spiraled her to a world where desire had free reign. If Jake didn’t stop, didn’t let her breathe a few normal breaths, she’d lose herself in that magical place.

  His hand turned restless at the same time he slid his mouth along her jaw. As he dusted light kisses over her cheek, inching his way closer to the side of her throat, he slipped his palm over her shoulder, down the length of her arm. A gentle nudge of his nose told her to turn her head. When she did, she gulped in a gasp as he traced a lazy circle beneath her earlobe with the tip of his tongue. Her pulse jumped into a staccato rhythm, her heart thumping heavily against her ribs.