Colby had come to the ranch three years before. He grew up in Yakima and was the son of a veterinarian. He went to school to study animal husbandry and found out he liked riding the animals more than treating them, so he thought he would try his hand at ranching. He appeared on the shy side, more content to watch than participate. An air of innocence clung to him, and his bashful nature reminded Trey more of a teenager than an adult.
Adam had come on at the beginning of the year. Adam was the all-American boy next door. Blond and good looking, he had grown up in Mission and played high school football. He laughed all the time at everything. Trey didn’t think anything got him down, except when he talked about his brother who had gone missing in action. The only questionable thing about Adam was his choice in girlfriends. Tanya giggled a little too loud, simpered a little too much, and reminded Trey of all the things he hadn’t wanted in a mate. Not that he’d anything disparaging against the girl, but he really hoped Adam was not thinking long term with that one.
From what Trey pieced together, Jack had joined the ranch about the same time as Adam.
Jack had been a rodeo man and had competed on the circuit until he was stepped on by a bull. It took years for him to recover from the shattered femur, and he never sat on bull again. His skill with the rope made up for his lack of speed. He had an easy grin and a laidback style about him that Trey sensed was a cover. There was a power, an intensity coiled under his devil-may-care attitude, that appeared ready to unleash at any moment. Trey had been on the receiving end of enough of those probing stares the last few days that he wondered if they’d ever had a falling out in the past. Jack hadn’t mentioned anything, so Trey did his best to ignore the sensation.
At the moment Jack and Steven stood off to the side, taking turns lassoing the metal calf Trey’s father had built long ago for him to practice his roping skills. However, when he was a boy, his dad hadn’t made him take shots of whiskey when he missed. At the rate Steven was going, a real cow would have a better chance of roping him.
The kid was a good hand, but he always seemed to be just a half step behind everyone else, which Jack took advantage of when he got the chance. Steven planned on going to college in the fall to study engineering. The boy wanted to build bridges. Trey stumbled upon two of his structures out in the field and he really hoped Steven’s real bridges held up better than the straw versions he saw crumbling out near the feed shed.
These were good men, his men, he thought with pride, and smiled at the group laughing around the fire. The ranch was like a tiny nation, and he was pleased with the soldiers he had defending his land.
Trey went back to the picnic table for seconds and ran into Jack, who was helping himself to a quarter of a chocolate cake. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Jack nodded. “Remember anything new?”
That was the most popular question of the evening. “A few things here and there.”
“Uh-huh,” Jack drew out in a long doubtful drawl. He added a slice of pie to his plate while keeping that ice-blue gaze locked on Trey, chilling him to the bone.
Trey took a quick glance around to see if anyone was within earshot before leaning in with a frustrated growl. “What’s the deal, Jack?”
“What do ya mean?” He had the gall to lick icing off his thumb, acting as if he hadn’t a clue he was pushing Trey’s buttons, yet the unholy gleam in his eyes suggested different.
“Have I wronged you somehow in the past?”
“Not really.” He shrugged.
“Then what’s with the attitude?”
He raised a brow. “Why do you care? It’s not like we’re friends. As long as you get the work out of me you want, you pretty much couldn’t care less about what I do and say.”
“That’s not true. Of course I’d want you to be happy here, Jack.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious,” Trey said. He didn’t know who he was more pissed at, Jack with the chip on his shoulder, or himself for letting his man feel that his blood, sweat, and effort weren’t valued. “Why stay if you don’t like it here?”
Jack sighed and scratched at the stubble on his chin. “Look, you’re a hard-hearted, slave-driving SOB, but I can respect that because you’re the boss. It’s your ranch, and you know what you’re doing when it comes to ranching.” His eyes flicked over to where Greta sat talking to Mark. “But you’re a shitty husband. I’ve stayed because of Mark, and Ben, and the rest of the guys. And Greta. I don’t believe this little Trey sunshine routine I’ve seen that last few days. She’s a good woman who deserves better than you.”
“Someone like you, you mean.” Trey felt as if he’d taken a flying leap into an icy river. His blood froze and brain functions slowed as he tried to picture the man Jack described. He wanted to refute everything Jack said, but in his gut he feared that since he returned from the hospital, Jack was the only person who was telling him straight-up the truth.
“Hell no. She’s too good for me, too.”
“Jack, I’m sorry. I…I don’t know—I don’t know what to say. But I can see that this ranch wouldn’t be the success it is without you. As for Greta, well, I know she deserves better, and I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure she gets it. That’s a promise.”
“I’m not the one you need to make that promise to.”
“No, I’m making it to you, too. You deserve to work for a man you can trust will do the best for everyone, including his men.”
The tension in Jack’s shoulders eased as he stared long and hard at Trey. It reminded him of Greta and her secret tests. He held still and let the determination in his gaze convey his sincerity. After several seconds, Jack nodded and headed back to the fire pit.
With his appetite ruined, Trey threw his plate into the garbage and fought the urge to throw up the wonderful feast. Did everyone believe he was an asshole? God, he hoped not, but there was so much evidence to the contrary that he had a suspicion he had a lot to make up for, and Greta was just the beginning.
Hiding from the problem wouldn’t help, in fact, hiding was probably what dug him in the shit hole he was in to start with. To get back into his family’s good graces, he would have to let his actions speak louder than words, which meant hauling his ass back to the fire pit with a smile on his face and join in on the festivities.
“Trey, are you all right?” Greta looped her arm around his elbow.
“I’m fine. Stuffed, but fine.” He snuggled closer to her warmth.
“Hey, Ben, whatcha got there?” Steven asked as Ben emerged from the darkness.
“I thought we might like some mood music.” He settled his large frame on a fallen log and began to tune the guitar he carried. At six-four and two hundred-fifty pounds of pure muscle, the instrument looked like a toy in his big hands. When the notes rang to his liking, he began to play with a dexterity Trey didn’t think possible for such thick fingers.
“What’s that song?” Steven frowned.
“ ‘Tumbleweeds.’ ”
“Never heard of it.”
Half of the group choked on their beers. “It’s a classic,” Trey snorted. “Even I remember that one.”
“Do you know any Brad Paisley or Toby Keith?”
“Sure.” Ben deftly plucked out the rockin’ notes of “High Maintenance WomanAmerican Saturday Night.” Steven whooped and pulled his girlfriend to her feet. He began to flail and gyrate his limbs like he was holding on to the wrong end of a cattle prod.
Adam rescued his beer before it was sacrificed to the dancing gods. “Watch out! White man dancing.”
“Well then stand up and show me your goods, or are you chicken?”
“Stand back, Opie, it is so on.” Adam had his girlfriend up and shaking to the music. His pinched face and jerky arms looked like he was suffering from muscle spasms. A one-legged monkey jumping on a bed of hot coals had more grace and style than those two.
Greta laughed so hard, she bent over double with her arms hugging her belly.
�
��Do we need to show them how it’s done, baby doll?” Trey held out a hand.
“Oh.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I don’t know if I can stand.”
“Come on.” Before she could blink, he had them twirling and swinging in smooth movements. With the stars overhead, he was back in Martinez’s Orchard with the prettiest girl at the party smiling up at him.
Whistles rent the air along with jovial hooting and hollering. After he laid her out in a low dip, Greta tossed back her hair and let loose with a laugh straight from her soul. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks flushed bright pink. She looked exactly like she had the night they met. This was the woman he remembered.
“Come over here, Ms. Margaret.” Ben patted the seat next to him. “Let’s see how much of the Irish is still in you.”
“Ah, it’s been a while,” Greta warned as she took her place.
Ben strummed an introduction then nodded for her to begin.
“Will you go lassie, go. And we’ll all go together…” Her voice rang pure and clear across the backyard as she sang about love found and lost. The light of the fire flickered on her face, casting her in an angelic glow.
Trey sat back in surprise. “She sings too?” he asked Mark who sat beside him.
He pulled a long draw on the cigarette he just lit then let out the smoke in a long stream. “She sings.”
Ben joined her in the chorus, his deep bass blending sweetly with her soprano.
Trey closed his eyes and let the music wash over him. As he listened, a vision danced behind his eyelids of Greta laid out on a blue-and-green plaid blanket under the elm tree by the stream. Sunlight spilled through the leaves, painting random patterns on her naked body. Her sun-warmed nipples were hot against his tongue as he made love to her out in the open air. Afterward, when they were sated and spent, she cradled him to her breast and sang to him while she ran her fingers through his hair.
He also saw her in the kitchen humming along with the radio. And again, sitting in a rocking chair. A bundle rested in her arms as she sang a soft lullaby. The blanket rustled and a little hand reached out to grasp her finger.
His eyes flew open on a gasp and his heart pounded behind his ribs. That wasn’t his imagination, but his own memories. He remembered Luke.
“Wow, Ms. Greta, I didn’t know you could sing.” Steven’s voice broke through Trey’s elation.
“You’re pretty good,” Adam agreed. “You should sing more often.”
Adam’s comment stuck Trey like a knife through the heart. The boys were wrong. Greta sang all of the time. If the radio was on, she sang. When she cooked, she sang. He remembered. He honestly remembered Greta singing. They would have had to have heard her at some point.
“Are you all right there, Hoss?” Mark looked at him, worry creased his brow.
“Sure,” he replied, not having heard the question. “Hey, when was the last time you heard Greta sing?”
Mark shrugged. “Don’t know. A while now. Can’t honestly remember when.”
Ben encouraged Greta into another song, and Trey wondered why she had stopped singing. Just like why had he stopped calling her ‘magpie’? And why had they stopped making love? In his mind he heard her words from the night before, confirming how he hid from them all after Luke died. Every answer seemed to lead back to him.
The rolling in his stomach turned into an F5 tornado. Guilt weighed on him something fierce. How could he have let this happen? Had he really sucked all of the joy from Greta’s life when he emotionally disappeared?
“Trey, honey, you’re looking a little green. Are you sure you’re okay?” Greta knelt in the dirt before him.
“I’m not sure.”
He had promised her a fresh start, no looking back, but the memory of how she had looked when she sang to their son had the tears burning in his throat. Why would he ever want to forget that?
Trey cupped his hand around the back of her neck. “I remembered you singing to Luke,” he whispered in her ear.
Her body stilled. “You did?” Her hot breath brushed his cheek.
“Yeah, you rocked him when he was a little baby. And you sang. That was all. It was a wonderful memory.”
She released a shaky breath and when she pulled back, tears filled her eyes. “That’s good. I’m glad.”
He brushed a soft kiss to her lips and then he held her tight. They stayed that way for a while as the party continued around them.
13
“That was such a great idea, Trey,” Greta called out to him from the bathroom. “We should do that more often.”
“Yeah, we should.” He pulled back the bed covers. “Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves.” He bit the inside of his thumb before taking the plunge. “Greta, why don’t you sing anymore?”
She sauntered in, rubbing lotion into her hands. “What did you say?” She wore a short, lilac-colored silk nightgown. The sight of her long bare legs made him lose focus for a second.
Stay. On. Task. “Why don’t you sing anymore?”
Her brow creased in amusement before she turned away with a shrug. “I don’t know. It’s not something I do with any regularity.” She picked up a brush from the dresser and began to run it through her hair.
“You used to. You sang all the time. When you were happy, you sang.”
She threw him a puzzled glance over her shoulder. “What makes you say that?”
“I remember. You’d sing or hum whenever you were happy.”
“Really?” She licked her lip and shrugged. “I guess I never paid attention.”
“Why did you stop?” He knew he sounded like an old fishwife, but he needed to know just how badly he had fucked up their relationship.
“I don’t know.” Her voice was sharp with annoyance. “Why do you keep asking me? It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me.” He caught her by the arm as she tried to pass by. “Don’t you see? Steven and Adam have never heard you sing, and they’re always buzzing around you. If you haven’t been singing, then you haven’t been happy. I know things fell apart with us, and it’s my fault.” His hands tightened on her shoulder. “I failed you. I made you a promise the day we met that I would never hurt you, and I failed.” His voice broke.
“Oh, Trey, honey,” Greta took his hands and placed a kiss in each palm before resting them against her heart. “You’re making a mountain out of a mole hill. I know you’ve been through a lot lately, but whether or not I sing around the house is not important. The past is in the past. Last night was a new start. Remember?”
“I don’t want to fail you again.” Over the last few days, all he had seen were signs of his failures. The only success was the business. But the business couldn’t hold him close or brush the hair out of his eyes. The business wasn’t capable of love.
Her lips brushed his in a soft kiss. “All I need is you.”
“But—”
“Do I make you happy?”
The question threw him. “Of course.”
“How? When you think about it, you have known me for only a handful of days. I want you to think, really think. How have I made you happy?”
The word “everything” came to mind, but by her expression he knew she wanted a serious answer. “When you smile at me, I feel like I’ve been given something special. You listen to me and encourage me. You gave me a child and loved him with your whole heart. How can that not make me happy?”
Greta blinked back tears and slid her hands up his arms. Her heat thawed the icy frost that had encased him since his conversation with Jack.
“It’s the same for me,” she murmured against his lips. “I don’t need you to be Superman. All I need is you. Just you.”
An anxiety he didn’t understand banded around his chest, squeezing his body until his heart felt ready to burst and his lungs burned. He needed to mark her, claim her, chain her to his side so that he would never lose her. He bent his knees to match her dainty height, his lips at the perfect level with hers to pour his fear
and need into his kiss.
His fingers gripped the flesh of her ass, digging hard to hold her close, crushing the satin gown with the force of his hunger. Her arms clasped around his neck as she sagged in his hold.
“Greta,” he gasped and buried his face into her neck when he broke for air. The pillars holding up his confidence crumbled and the ensuing collapse left him shaking.
“Shhh,” she soothed. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you. Let me show you what you mean to me.”
She placed a tender kiss over his pounding heart before blazing a trail of biting kisses down his chest and over the hard muscles of his abs. She sank to her knees and traced a wet pattern around his navel with her tongue, before kissing every inch of lightly furred skin revealed as she unbuttoned his jeans.
The heavy stalk of his cock sprang free and fell right into her hands. Her palm swirled over the head once before she sucked the hard length into her mouth.
He groaned as his eyes crossed. The hot, moist, vacuum she created made his knees buckle. “Geez-us, woman. Are you trying to send me back to the hospital?”
The vixen peeked up at him from under lowered lashes. The corner of her lips curled into a wicked grin. His heart about gave out when her tongue flicked out to collect the pearly drop of cum that pooled on the tip. She wrapped one hand around the base while the other stroked and teased. Her nails raked across his abs, the muscles flexing under her touch. She trailed the tips over his hips and around to his ass as she swallowed his cock. She fingered the crease between his cheeks, reminding him of how she had touched him the night before and his shaft hardened to steel.
There she was on her knees, pleasing him like no woman had ever done before. Never had and never would again.
The desire to come threatened to take over all rational thought. As much as he loved to let go and feel her nimble tongue coax him to completion, he needed to immerse himself into her hot, willing body with a desperation bordering on insanity. He grabbed her under the arms and tossed her onto the bed. She barely had time to gasp before he was on her, tasting every inch of creamy skin he could get his mouth on. The strap of her gown broke in his haste to bare her luscious breasts. The moment the plump nipple beaded in the cool air, he suckled her like a man starved.
Hearts on Fire: Romance Multi-Author Box Set Anthology Page 124