by Maddie James
“Believe me,” Thad continued, “I never intended sharing my tent with you. Or my sleeping bag. Somehow, I don’t think that would be too pleasant for either of us. However, you need to be the one to leave. This is my tent.”
“No… Mack told me this was mine.”
“Then Mack told you wrong.”
“But why would he do that?”
Thad waited a second before answering. “That, Ms. Martin, is exactly what I intend to find out. Now, I’ll turn my back while you gather your things and get dressed. Your tent is next to the dining fly. That’s where the cook sleeps. Always. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get some shut-eye.”
Thad did exactly what he said he would do. He couldn’t see Kim…not really. But he turned and could hear her, and in his mind’s eye he could see her pulling on her clothing. That image did unsettling things to his libido.
Very unsettling things. Particularly when he could still feel the heat of her skin on the palms of his hands.
She left and he was thankful for that fact.
Come morning, Mack Montgomery was going to pay. And pay dearly.
Chapter Seven
Kim started awake at the sound of her tent flap being zipped open. Pouncing to her knees, jerking the sleeping bag up around her, she gasped as she saw someone sneak through the opening. A shaft of moonlight penetrated through the space illuminating the intruder and the insides of the tent.
“Kim...?” the figure whispered.
She relaxed. “Jillie! You scared the shit out of me. Get in here.”
Jillie entered and let the tent flap slap down. She thrust her arm, and something else, toward her. “Here. Who else did you think would be sneaking in your tent in the middle of the night?”
Kim took a jar of something out of her hand. “No one,” she grumbled. No way in hell she would tell Jillie about Thad invading her tent earlier. And doubly no way she would tell her that she’d been dreaming about him doing incredible things to her body just before Jillie woke her.
“What’s this?” she uncapped the jar.
“Salve.”
Kim silently blessed her. She’d tossed and turned the last couple of hours trying to find a comfortable sleeping position. She didn’t even want to think about tomorrow. “Thanks.”
“Are you really sore?”
She shot a look her way. “What do you think?”
Jillie giggled. “Feels like you’ve had wicked sex all night and had none of the pleasure, right?”
Kim cast a glance aside and dug her fingers in the salve. “Wouldn’t know much about that lately and my memory seems to be lacking in feeling anything like this after sex.”
Sidling up next to her on the sleeping bag, Jillie bent closer to her ear and chuckled. “Then you’ve been doing it all wrong…making love with the wrong men, Kim. Haven’t I told you to drop those wimps?”
“Jillie!” She scooted away. “In the first place I don’t make love with every man I go out with, and in the second place, I wouldn’t make love with any man who would make me feel like this afterwards.”
“Then you’re missing out,” she shot back. “I bet Thad would make love like a savage. What do you think?”
Her face heated up. If Jillie only knew what was going on inside her head a moment ago, she wouldn’t have to even guess about it. “I don’t think. Now, leave me alone to put this salve on so I can get back to sleep. Do you need this back tonight?”
“Uh, no. I’ve already used it.”
Kim thought as much. She figured that Jillie had probably had a little help applying the ointment to boot.
“Uh, Kim..? I’m, uh, not going to be, uh, sharing your t—”
“Go,” Kim ordered, anticipating her statement, feigning indifference. She caught a strong whiff of the salve drew her head back at the pungent odor. “Go and I don’t want to see you until morning. At least one of us ought to have a good time on this nightmare.”
Jillie turned toward the door and then hesitated. “Kim, if you’re that miserable...”
“I’m not. Just go to Mack. You two look like you were made for each other.”
“I really like him.”
“Good.”
“In fact, I think I’m falling in love with him.”
Kim felt her eyes widen as she glanced sharply at her friend. “Already?”
Jillie shrugged. “Well, you know what they say about love at first sight...”
Kim glanced away. She didn’t want to think about the possibility of Jillie falling in love. “Yeah, yeah, yeah...well, let’s wait to see what happens when you’re ready to go back to Kentucky.”
The confines of the tent grew silent when Jillie didn’t answer. Kim slowly turned toward her friend. “You are going back to Kentucky, aren’t you?”
It took at least half a minute for Jillie to answer. “Of course,” she replied. “Look, I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” Jillie scooted toward the tent opening.
“Fine.”
She left and Kim stared into the dark. Something was up, she knew it. And it left a sort of empty longing deep inside her. There was something Jillie didn’t want to tell her. Something that was going to change things. Oh, God. She wasn’t going back to Kentucky.
If that were true she ought to be happy for Jillie. Would be happy for her. She would miss her, yes, and would stand by her decision, but deep down niggling fingers of jealousy jabbed at her.
Embarrassed at her self-revelation, Kim plunged two fingers into the salve and began to massage a thick glob of the peppery stuff on her thigh, all the while thinking about Jillie’s words. If you’re that miserable....
Well, the thing was, she wasn’t really miserable, which was entirely surprising to herself. She was just tired of fighting with Thad. Tired of fighting with herself. Tired of wondering if she’d ever feel his arms around her again.
And tired of wondering if she, Kimberly Price Martin, could let herself fall for a man like Thaddeus Winchester? Someone who would love her unconditionally, like Mack already appeared to love Jillie? A man who was bigger than life itself and scared the wits out of her? A man who probably would make love like a savage and leave her muscles sore and wanting for more.
A man who could melt her with one touch of lips, she imagined.
If she wanted.
And that was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? Did she want?
****
She woke late. She could tell by the way a miniscule ray of sun slanted through a hole at the top of her tent. It took until early morning before she’d finally fallen asleep. There were certain things occupying her mind that had kept her brain churning and her adrenaline jumping until the wee hours but when she’d finally fallen, she’d slept like a zombie.
Now, she felt infinitely better than last night. She must have just needed a good night’s sleep. But along with feeling better, came a hint of irritability.
It irritated her to no end that she actually liked Thad’s arms wrapped around her. How could she? He was nearly a total stranger! What was wrong with her that she would crave his touch again and again?
She wouldn’t think about that now. At the moment there were other parts of her body which needed immediate attention. Those same parts that woke her from her sleep-of-the-dead moments earlier. She needed to pee, again, which was such a damned nuisance. And her stomach was rumbling, which was even a greater headache. Maybe she needed a good breakfast. She’d only eaten a little bit yesterday.
Grumbling and uttering an occasional expletive, she fumbled around the small tent trying to find her cleanest, dirty pair of blue jeans and socks. She kept on the T-shirt she’d worn to sleep in, but slipped on a bra underneath.
Dressing without the aid of a mirror and a bathroom, she grumbled some more as she rifled through her duffel bag searching for that forever elusive roll of toilet paper. Finally finding it, she grabbed the paper, pulled on her boots, unzipped the tent, and stepped out into the crisp morning. Glancing about the entra
nce, she spied the requisite shovel, and set off behind the tent to a grove of trees to do her personal duty.
Every step of the way her mutterings grew louder. She was in one heck of a foul mood. Couldn’t sleep. Had to pee. Was expected to cook breakfast for a bunch of Cro-Magnon cowboys. Hungrier than she’d ever been in her life. And every muscle in her bootie nagged like a mother-in-law.
She stopped abruptly behind a huge conifer of some sort. It was wide. Big. Had a good deal of shade. Perfect.
She dropped the toilet paper and dug the mandatory hole.
Her fingers fumbled with her belt, then her fly. The zipper lowered. She hitched her jeans down to her hips.
And dreams of Thad Winchester kept invading her sleep all-the-live-long night....
A twig snapped behind her.
She swung around and jerked at her pants.
And Thad stepped out from behind another large conifer. Zipping his fly.
She gasped. Thad turned, hesitated—then a sly smirk spread across his face.
“Mornin’.” He tipped his head her way.
“Yeah.” Get the heck out of here.
After a moment, he walked off. Whistling.
Kim waited until he’d left—and then waited another ten minutes for good measure. Then she took care of business—and left.
By the time she’d returned to her tent, her mood wasn’t any better. And if Thad was still grinning and whistling by the time she got to breakfast, she had half a mind to wipe that silly smirk off his face, with a spatula.
In her canteen was some fresh water. Had she filled it the night before? She took a healthy drink and then grimaced, reminded that what went in, eventually had to come out. Then stepping behind the tent, she splashed some on her face, brushed her teeth, and tried to make herself halfway presentable. She was getting a little tired of roughing it. It was only the second day. Geez, if she could only take a shower.
Reluctantly, she headed for the dining fly.
****
“Mornin’.”
Kim rubbed her eyes and tried to focus on the body attached to the voice. The way the sun slanted behind the dining fly cast a shadow that prevented her from seeing who had spoken to her.
“Hi Kim.”
Jillie.
Stepping further underneath she spotted Jillie and Mack sitting at the camp table while sipping on steaming cups of coffee. She approached and sat down. “I noticed you didn’t say good morning,” she grumbled, glancing at Mack.
“Ah, Kim, cheer up,” he returned, a little too enthusiastically. “It’s a beautiful morning!”
“Is it?” She glanced around her. “What’s so beautiful about it?”
Yawning, she stretched her arms out over the table, laid her head down and closed her eyes. “Got any more of that coffee?”
Someone patted her arm. She guessed it was Jillie. “I’ll get you some,” her friend answered.
“You better. You are to blame for all this, you know.”
“C’mon, Kim. You’re having a wonderful time, aren’t you?”
Kim opened one eye and arched a brow. “Oh, yeah, Jillie. I’m having a peachy time. This ranks right up there with shopping on Rodeo Drive.”
Jillie set the metal coffee cup before her and Kim sat up. “You’ve never shopped on Rodeo Drive, so how do you know how much fun that would be?”
Kim sipped at the coffee and grimaced. “I just know,” she grumbled. She took another sip of the black brew and closed her eyes again. The warmth soaked through her. Her body was slowly coming awake.
“Kim, you’ve got to cook breakfast, you know.”
“I know.” She kept her eyes closed and sipped again.
“The wranglers are going to expect something soon.”
“I’ll get to it in a minute.”
“I started the fire an hour ago, Kim, for the coffee,” Mack interjected, “but they’re going to be hollering soon if they don’t smell bacon sizzling. Maybe I’d better to put some more wood on.” He stood.
Geez! I can take a hint!
Kim set down her cup. Perhaps a little too hard. Some of it splashed over the side, narrowly missing her hand. “All right, already.” She looked Mack straight in the eyes. “So I’ll fix the damn breakfast.”
She got up, taking her coffee with her. Mack stoked the fire and added more fuel.
She had just located bacon, potatoes, eggs and refrigerator biscuits, spread them all out on the preparation table, and was heating a huge iron skilled on the stove when someone came up behind her.
“Why isn’t breakfast ready?”
The voice was firm, unmoving, and she didn’t have to guess from whom it came. She glanced up from the package of bacon she was fiddling with and huffed out a long breath. She didn’t look back. Please let me get through this without a scene.
“I’m fixing it.”
“It’s after six a.m. We should have eaten by now.”
She felt Thad’s breath on the back of her neck. It was hot, moist. “I overslept,” she admitted, still trying to tear into the bacon. She didn’t want to tell him why that had happened. That her dreams were interspersed with images of him slipping into her sleeping bag. No, she was going to calmly fix breakfast, after as minor an altercation with this man as possible, and then she was going to get though the rest of the day.
If I can get the damned bacon open.
She reached for the butcher knife sitting by the stove.
“You’ve got fifteen minutes, Ms. Martin.”
She turned, butcher knife in hand, and met Thad’s gaze, the knife between them. “Can’t you see I’m trying? Why don’t you just leave me alone and I’ll get the stupid breakfast?”
Reaching out, Thad put his fingers over hers on the knife. “Be careful with that thing.”
“I am,” she snapped.
“Give it to me.”
“I need to get the bacon open.”
“I said, give it to me.”
Kim watched his eyes. “Take it.”
He did, then reached behind her, snatched the pound of bacon, and slit open the package. Slapping both the knife and the bacon down on the prep table, he said, “There.”
His gaze penetrated as Kim stood for another second before moving. He didn’t move either. Funny, but he didn’t seem al that angry with her this morning. He wasn’t shouting, his face wasn’t red; he was just matter-of-fact stating what he thought needed to be done. Well, if he’d leave her alone long enough she’d get the bacon in the skillet.
“Thank you. Now, if you’ll get out of my way…”
Thad straightened, still eyeing her. “I expect breakfast by five-thirty, every morning, Ms. Martin.”
“Then I need somebody to wake me up. I don’t have an alarm clock, you know, and I’m sure as hell not used to getting up with the chickens. At least not as early as the chickens get up around here.”
He leaned closer. “Would you like for me to do that personally?” he asked, low enough for only her to hear. Images of Thad waking her flashed through her mind. But she knew that wasn’t what he intimated…was it?
She stepped back, but kept her gaze on his face. “Actually, I wouldn’t. I’ll manage on my own.”
He straightened and backed off. “Then I’ll expect to see breakfast earlier tomorrow.”
“I imagine you’ll expect what you’ll get.” He wasn’t going to bowl her over.
“What I expect, Kim, is that when a woman takes over a major job like feeding the guests and the crew, she will be up on her own and doing her job like she knows what she’s about.” He stepped closer. “But then again, you don’t know what you’re doing, do you?”
She narrowed her gaze. “I am not incompetent, if that is what you are implying.”
“I’m simply implying that you are out of your league here.”
Kim chuckled. Out of her league? Ha! “Get out of my way, cowboy, and I’ll get you the best damned breakfast you’ve ever had. It might be a little late but it will be nu
tritious and satisfying and keep your wranglers happy as well. Give me forty-five minutes.”
“Fifteen.”
“Thirty-five.”
“Twenty.”
“Thirty.”
“You’re on!”
Thad glared at her for another second, his eyes twinkling, then gave her a half-grin before he turned on his heel and left. She glanced at Mack and Jillie still sitting at the table, watching. She had to turn away to keep from smiling herself.
She was smiling for a number of reasons. One, she and Thad had gotten through one entire conversation without their voices; two, he had actually called her by her first name; and three, at the end of it all he had given her the most sexy little grin.
But most of all, she was finally going to get one over on the mighty Thad Winchester. Breakfast, and possibly a little crow, was about to be served.
****
It took Kim all of her thirty minutes to get breakfast out on the prep table, serving buffet style. Actually, a few more, but she didn’t think Thad was really counting. She’d had to hustle, scavenging around in the food boxes and soliciting help from Jillie and Mack. Jillie had fried the bacon nice and crisp, then set it to drain on paper towels. Mack chopped onions and green peppers and sautéed them quickly in a small amount of fat from the bacon. Those were draining on a paper towel, as well.
In the meantime she had grated potatoes for hash browns, crumbled a loaf of bread into a large bowl and covered it with a mixture of whisked eggs, salt, paper and a squirt of mustard and a few dashes of Tabasco and Worcestershire sauce. When the onions and peppers were drained and the bacon was crumbled, she added them to the mixture, along with a couple of handfuls of shredded cheddar, and turned the entire concoction into a large baking pan sprayed with non-stick baking spray.
Then all went into the oven with a prayer that the heat wouldn’t be too high or two low and that the whole thing would come out in record time.
While that dish was baking, she started on the hash browns, frying them nice and crisp. Mack made more coffee and Jillie sliced some oranges.
When her time limit was nearly up, she peeked into the oven to see what the casserole was doing and heaved a sigh of relief. It was nicely browned on the edges, solid in the middle and perfect.