Waiting For Yes

by Claire Ashgrove

Jake looked to the stars, counting slowly to ten.

  At six, the back porch door burst open. Gabrielle’s voice screeched into the night. “Jake?”

  He didn’t waste time with an answer. Hurdling over the roof, the snow giving traction and blocking a sideways slip, he scrambled for the back door. At the edge of her porch, he dropped onto his belly, shimmied around feet first, and eased off until his toes connected with the thick banister. Ice made balancing more difficult, but after a few slips, he found his footing and lowered himself completely.

  “Jake?” Gabrielle’s voice drifted from the side of the house.

  He bolted through the door and slammed it behind him.

  The warmth hit him in an instant. Blessed heat that made his nose and fingers tingle. He rubbed his hands together. Just once, he’d like to meet a woman who fought fair. Locking him out in the cold… He scowled.

  Gabrielle burst through the back door, her expression as black as his mood. She kicked the door shut with her heel and fastened her hands on her hips. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  He lifted both eyebrows, but chose silence. The retort bubbling through his mind would only dig him into a hole he couldn’t ever possibly climb out of.

  “I don’t want you near me, Jake. I thought I made that clear. I don’t tolerate liars.”

  His gaze narrowing, he jabbed his index finger at a wooden chair. “Sit down.”

  Meeting his demand with stubbornness, she folded her arms across her chest. “Not on your life.”

  “Then fine, stand there. But hush up and listen.” He shoved away from the counter and shrugged out of his coat. A casual toss had it landing on top of the kitchen table. “I did not lie to you. I omitted some information. The two are not the same.”

  She let out a derisive snort. “They get the same result.”

  “Which result is that, Gabby? The one where you tell me you want me out, or the one where you care enough to rush outside and make sure I didn’t fall off the roof?”

  Anger flashed behind her eyes, turning them into brittle pieces of jade. Her fingers dug into the puffy folds of her heavy jacket as she clenched her hands. The hard lines on her delicate face told him loud and clear he’d just trespassed into no-man’s land. So be it. He’d get his point across one way or the other, and if they ended up screaming at each other all night long, at least he’d get to say his piece.

  He forged ahead, “That’s what bugs you the most, isn’t it? Not that I never told you I worked with Arabians, but right now you’re pissed as hell you worried about me.”

  “That’s a load of crap, Jake,” she ground out through clenched teeth.

  “Is it?” he challenged. “If you didn’t give a damn, you wouldn’t care if I’d told you everything about my horse experience, or not.”

  Her face blanched as if she’d seen a ghost. She pushed past him, heading for the door. But he caught her elbow and brought her to an abrupt stop. With steady pressure, he turned her around and held her fidgety gaze. “I worked with Arabian horses. I spent my summers showing for a handful of years. I was good. But the head trainer was the star. I didn’t want to tell you, Gabrielle, because that’s part of my life I want to forget. I don’t like who I was then, and I don’t want to discus it.” He paused for a moment, his gaze searching hers. “I’m sorry,” he added more softly.

  And he was. Sorry he’d hurt her, sorry he’d provoked her anger. More than anything, however, he was sorry he couldn’t give her the truth she wanted. That he couldn’t find the courage to let her in that close. Lord knew he wanted to. But the idea of seeing those beautiful green eyes fill with revulsion made the notion impossible.

  Her brows pulled in a frown as she warred with her emotions. The resistance against his hold lessened. He tugged her closer and cupped her face in his palm. As he ran his thumb over her cheek, he whispered, “Don’t be mad at me, sugar. I don’t want to sleep out in that barn. I want to be right here. With you.”

  A little noise of defeat escaped through her parted lips.

  Jake took full advantage. Leaning into her petite frame, he dropped his head and feathered his mouth over hers.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Jake’s mouth was warm and tender, his kiss slow and intoxicating. Each searching foray of his tongue untied the knots of anger embedded in Gabrielle’s exhausted body. A chill clung to his clothes, his skin. The scent of fresh outdoors lingered in his hair. She moved closer, unable to tolerate the intangible distance their argument had created.

  Damn him for being right. She’d been terrified he’d broken his neck. Possessed by the fear she’d find him limp and lifeless in the snow. He’d made her confront that conflicting emotion, forcing her to accept the simple fact she couldn’t hate him. Angry as she was, his apology broke her resolve.

  She wound her arms around his neck. Her fingers delved into the thick, dark hair at the base of his neck. The hand that held her elbow let go to wind around her waist, push fingertips beneath her layers of clothes. His thumb caressed her ribs as his other hand slid down her throat. Gentleness seeped through his touch, so unlike the harshness that had hardened his expression moments ago. Her entire body sighed into his, her heart tumbling hard against her ribs.

  He cares. She didn’t know quite how she knew, but she did. The sincerity reflected in his eyes before he kissed her, the slow intensity of his mouth, the complete lack of sexual advance—everything about the moment lifted the veil of confusion about his intent. Experiencing the discovery, however, sparked desire so deep and fierce, she shuddered against it. No man she’d ever known had said as much with so few words.

  She ran a hand over his shoulder and across his chest, savoring the feel of hard pectorals beneath her fingertips. How she’d ever gotten so lucky, she’d never understand. Yet, somehow she had. This amazing man, who was so unlike anyone she’d ever pictured herself with, cared for her.

  Jake trailed soft kisses across her cheek. With a nudge, he sought the side of her neck, and she tilted her head. Hot and moist, his breath danced across her skin, sending a shock of pleasant chills scurrying down her spine. She tightened her fingers in his shirt as a soft murmur of delight escaped. Lord above, he knew how to make her knees rubbery. One touch, one intimate caress of his lips, and she turned to putty in his hands.

  She explored the rigid contours of his abdomen, giggling quietly as his stomach tightened beneath her palm.

  “What’s so funny?” he whispered at her collarbone.

  “You.” She grazed her nails over his abdomen again, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

  He nipped her shoulder, his teeth pinching through her shirt. “I like it when you touch me.”

  Gabrielle stepped in closer, slipping her leg between his as she caressed his stomach. “You do, huh?”

  His thumb worked a lazy circle beneath her breast. His fingers gripped a little harsher. “Mmm. Feels good, sugar.” He lifted his head to rub the tip of his nose against hers. A smile fringed the corners of his mouth and sparkled in his blue eyes.

  Gabrielle flattened her palm over his cock. To her surprise, he was hard and ready. She gave him a little squeeze. “And this?”

  Jake closed his eyes on a hiss. His body went rigid beneath her firm grip.

  Drawn by the power the simple caress granted, she brought her other hand their bodies and plied at the button on his jeans. When it popped open, she dipped her fingers inside the waistband of his cotton boxers and took him in her hand. Jake’s grip dug into the side of her waist, his expression as tight as the flesh beneath her palm. He surged against her, his response so strong and untamed, heat washed through her body. Moisture gathered between her legs, and the pleasant ache of longing turned her belly upside down.

  “You make me forget everything, Gabby.” Hoarse and rough, his words washed over her cheek.

  She shuddered against him, against the tumultuous effect of his murmured confession.

  In twenty-six years, she’d never felt the abso
lute need to bring a man pleasure without regard for her own. But now, standing here in Jake’s arms as he moved against the push and slide of her hand, the urge bore down hard. Make him feel. Make everyone else a memory.

  Letting go of his thick shaft, she edged his jeans and boxers down his hips. His gaze locked with hers, intensity turning pale blue depths to deep indigo. He said nothing as he tugged at her shirt. But she twisted out of his grasp, denying him the chance to pull it over her head.

  Fully exposed, his erection bobbed against his abdomen, a bead of moisture glistening at the tip. She swallowed, hesitating for a moment. Then, before she could second-guess herself and cave to modesty, she fought back the blush that crept into her cheeks and knelt before him.

  Jake’s hands came down on the countertop like a vise as she took him into her mouth. With gentle pressure, she cupped his balls in one hand, the other she wrapped around the base of his shaft. Suckling, she closed her eyes and coaxed his body into moving with the push and slide of her firm hold.

  His hips moved against her, his breathing a ragged rasp that hung in the silence. Devoted to her purpose, Gabrielle increased the friction. Each hitched inhale, every strangled exhale Jake let out, edged her further into her own desire. Her pulse jumped to life. Her heart kicked against her ribs. She tasted his arousal, reveled in the brief moment when his body refused to listen to his straining control and a drop of salty flavor touched her tongue.

  Let go. Let go for me, Jake.

  But Jake refused to give her the pleasure. In one smooth motion, he grabbed her beneath the shoulders, hoisted her up, and set her on the counter top. His mouth crashed into hers, all semblance of restraint long forgotten. Nimble fingertips worked at her jeans. Hurried tugs and pushes dropped them to the floor. He grasped her hips, his fingers hard and punishing, and in one insistent yank, he brought her body against his and plunged himself into her.

  She cried out against the delightfully rough intrusion, yet the sound got lost in his throat, blending with his low moans. Hanging onto his shoulders, she surrendered to the whirlwind of sensation thrumming in her blood.

  Jake slipped a hand between their bodies to stroke her hardened nub. The contact cut through her like a maelstrom. Her body arced forward, her fingernails digging into his buttocks. Robbed of breath, she held on, unable to do anything but ride the swell of feeling. His thumb stroked her inflamed center, slow, deliberate caresses that made her feel as if she floated on a cloud somewhere high above.

  Sensation built, piled atop one another, a slow burn that quickly spread into an inferno. Returning his kiss with fervent hunger, Gabrielle surrendered to everything Jake was, everything they shared, and let go of conscious thought. His buttocks tightened. A low moan built in his throat. Climax ripped through her as he drove in deep and held her close, unmoving. Wave after wave of tingling warmth coursed through her veins. Turning her head, she fought for a breath, but could scarcely manage more than a few gasps.

  Jake’s body shuddered against hers, his fingers gradually relaxing their imprisoning hold. He dropped his forehead to her shoulder and his lips fluttered against side of her neck. His chest rose and fell in hard bursts, a tempo she knew would match the frantic pulse of his heart if she could lift her hand and feel its heavy beat.

  “Jesus, Gabby,” Jake managed on a throaty whisper. “You make me weak.”

  Her throat closed. That had to have meaning, didn’t it? Men never admitted to weakness, despised the very notion. At least, such was her experience. Fearing if she responded to his comment he’d hear the hope that lit in her heart, she gave his buttocks a firm squeeze and chuckled. “I’m exhausted. Take me to bed, will you, handsome?”

  His shoulders shook with a silent laugh. He dotted her forehead with a kiss as he eased himself out of her. She jumped off the counter. Jake tugged up his pants as she grabbed for hers. But before she could turn toward the door, he swept her into his arms and hooked her knees over his elbow.

  She laughed and batted at his chest. “Put me down, silly.”

  “Hush. I’m taking you to bed.”

  Gabrielle grinned all the way to the bedroom. When Jake deposited her on the bed, she let out a giggle. “Gallantry?”

  He returned her grin. “Don’t get used to it.” One quick yank on his shirt exposed his glorious chest. “But I’m not done with you yet, sugar. Get out of those clothes.”

  With another burst of laughter, Gabrielle obeyed. She kicked aside the covers and leaned back against the pillows, giving in to a languorous stretch.

  “Damn,” Jake muttered as he shucked his jeans.

  “What?”

  “I need to use the restroom. Don’t go anywhere.” He bent over the bed and kissed her quickly before he disappeared down the hall.

  ****

  Jake stepped into the bedroom, fully anticipating on recreating the scene in the kitchen. Only this time, he didn’t intend to have it end so soon. But as he flicked off the overhead light and the soft glow of her bedside lamp illuminated her slender form, he caught the gentle rise and fall of her chest and her closed eyelids. He let out a quiet chuckle. Asleep. He couldn’t particularly blame her. Lord knew his body had its own set of protests against their lack of sleep the previous night. Coupled with the hour or so outside in the snow, exhaustion made it hard to find the energy to lean across her and shut off the lamp.

  He pulled the covers up and rolled to his side, gazing at her. In the moonlight, she was nothing less than exquisite. A smooth shoulder poked above the comforter, one slender arm extended toward his pillow. Her hair tumbled over her cheek, and he tucked the lock aside. So damn pretty. Stubborn, determined—he’d wrongly assumed she’d had everything given to her on a silver platter. Perhaps once she might have, but now, the woman that lay across from him was anything but spoiled. She knew the merit of hard work, understood the heartbreak of fighting for a dream.

  Where other women who shared her upbringing would have thrown in the towel when their fantasy didn’t play out the way they envisioned it, Gabrielle held on. She managed this farm by herself, had an eye for horses that put his to shame. She refused to allow anyone to shatter her faith. Even when confronted by stallions who were psychotic.

  Gabrielle edged closer, and a whiff of her flowery shampoo tickled his nose. Beneath the covers, she bent a knee, and her toes grazed his shin. She murmured something in her sleep, the sound an intimate caress that made his heart kick.

  She was the most remarkable woman he’d ever met.

  Something fierce and profound rolled around in his gut. He shifted against the uncomfortable feeling as his smile dimmed. Jake tried to swallow, but his throat refused to work. Son of a bitch, he’d fallen in love with her.

  How, when—How?

  He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Four days, and he’d lost his heart to a woman who epitomized everything he didn’t want. Now what the hell was he supposed to do? Rearrange his hauling schedules so he could visit her once a month? See Mamoon every time he pulled into the driveway? Accept the damn horse because it made Gabrielle happy?

  Not hardly.

  He’d have to walk away. Get over the inevitable pain of losing her. It was far better than the pain that came with staying. This newness would wear off in time. When it did, she’d expect him to fall into the role of a partner. And there was no way in hell he could partner up with Mamoon.

  Asking her to choose—out of the question. It was too soon yet to spout out that he’d fallen in love with her. She’d likely laugh. Waiting until he’d known her longer to ask her to get rid of her dream stallion would only raise the question of why he hadn’t brought it up sooner. He couldn’t trap her that way. Couldn’t make her fall in love with him only to attempt to mold her to his constraints.

  Jake let out a heavy sigh and tossed an elbow over his eyes. He couldn’t stay. Couldn’t allow himself to think of a future with her no matter how he felt. Yet, when he left, it wouldn’t take long for her to hate him. He didn’t wa
nt her hate. Didn’t want to be remembered as the guy who took advantage of her when his rig wouldn’t run, and then bailed.

  He could think of only one way to say goodbye in a fashion that wouldn’t brand him as an eternal asshole. And the very idea made his stomach churn.

  Damn, damn, damn.

  Good ole Murphy struck again. Just once, he’d like Murphy to stay out of his life.

  He stole a glance at Gabrielle from beneath his elbow, and the same uncomfortable feeling pulled at his gut. No use denying it, or pretending the feeling had some other meaning.

  “Aw, hell,” he muttered.

  He twisted sideways and tossed an arm around her waist. She snuggled in close, her dainty hand coming to rest on his chest. Lord, even fast asleep she responded to him like a magnet drawn to iron. Small wonder he’d gotten so caught up in her he couldn’t keep his defenses intact. She made resisting impossible.

  Jake nuzzled her silken hair. His hand roamed along the length of her back and settled at the base of her spine. No, he wouldn’t be just a bad memory. He couldn’t tolerate that possibility. With a gentle shake, he tried to rouse her. “Sugar?”

  Long eyelashes fluttered up, the tickle caressing his cheek. “So tired,” she protested thickly.

  “When’s Scottsdale?”

  Her sleep-laden response made understanding her difficult, but he managed to decipher two weeks. Damn, that would be nearly impossible. While Mamoon certainly had miles under his belt, Gabrielle didn’t have the knowledge to bring him into condition and fight through the battles that inevitably loomed on Mamoon’s training horizon. If he left her to tackle that alone, Margie’s prediction would come true. Gabrielle would go to Scottsdale, and her father would run her into the ground. Knowing her, she wouldn’t give up on the idea either.

  His stomach churned with a whole new sense of unease. He’d already learned the hard way what happened when he refused to get involved with Mamoon. His mother had years of experience Gabrielle couldn’t hope to learn in such a short time. But could he?