His desire for her grew more intense over the next five days. He spent most of his days in her company. Determined to do her part on the ranch, she cared for Boots and shadowed him through his workday, helping out wherever she could. Justin stayed with his grandfather after school, having a blast riding the tractor and watching the men stack hay in one of the barns.
Unable to help himself, he studied her every move. Smart, she learned things quickly and only had to be told something once. When she tried to figure something out on her own, she squinted her eyes and scrunched her lips. She ended every meal with one of the chocolate chip cookies Dee made. Her laugh came out soft and lilting when she allowed herself to give in to it. The one thing that got to him more than anything was her insatiable need to be with the horses. She loved them. Everything about her calmed and relaxed when she spent time with them.
She didn’t back away from him every time he got too close. If he accidentally brushed up against her, or touched her shoulder to get her attention, she didn’t flinch. Spending time together, getting to know each other a little bit at a time while they worked, eased her guard around him. Progress. But the compulsion to touch her grew more and more each and every second he spent with her, which is why he’d resorted to hiding in the office today. He couldn’t work beside her right now, or he’d give in to his compulsion to touch her beyond tapping her shoulder to get her attention.
Not an option. Hands off, man. Keep your mind on work and off her.
Someone knocked on the door. He growled out, “What!”
Gillian opened the door and peeked in. He didn’t get up to greet her from where he sat behind his cluttered desk in the corner of the room; couldn’t really, without revealing the bulge in his jeans. If he saw her, heard her voice, his damn dick snapped to attention, begging for him to bury it deep inside her soft body. God, how he wanted her.
Why wouldn’t she go away and stop unknowingly torturing him for five minutes?
He hit save on the spreadsheet, narrowed his eyes, and scowled at her. He didn’t really mean it. His own damn fault he couldn’t control his thoughts and needs around her. Better to hide out with his numbers than lose everything by doing something stupid like grabbing her, crushing her to his aching body, and kissing her.
“Blake, your mom is downstairs. She’d like you to come down and see her.”
He’d spent half the day avoiding Gillian and all day thinking about her. Now, she’d hunted him down, and all he wanted to do was take her in the other room and lay her out on the bed and cover her with his body and make love to her until morning.
On the other hand, he wanted her to go away. She made him ache. Thoughts of her kept him awake long into the night. He hadn’t slept well knowing that she was only a short walk away and a million miles away emotionally. The bruises on her face had almost faded away. The last of the stitches on her back were probably ready to come out. Each and every day, she got stronger, more confident here on the ranch.
“Fine.” He tried to ignore her, kept his focus on the computer screen, and entered another set of numbers into the machine from hell.
She walked up behind him and leaned over, distracting him with the soft touch of her hand on his shoulder, her sweet, flowery scent, and the silky strands of hair that tickled the back of his neck as they fell over her shoulder and lay down his back. She studied the screen without noticing he’d gone completely rigid beside her. Did she know she touched him more and more often without even thinking about it? Probably not. She was still ignoring the pull between them. She was still ignoring him. He smelled that damn shampoo with its flowers-and-citrus scent. He swore that smell lingered on the air for hours after she left the stable. He smelled it over the horses. He smelled it when he went to sleep.
“Why are you doing the calculations on the calculator and not having the computer do them for you?” Even her sweet voice tempted him.
He sucked in a breath and let it go more irritated, because he could smell her even better now that she had her hand next to his on the desk as she leaned down and stared at the screen. If he leaned back, her breast would press against his shoulder. He remained still. Very, very still.
“Because I need to do several calculations to get this column here.” He pointed to the numbers on the screen, then went back to tapping the keys on the calculator and ignoring his throbbing body, despite the fact he punched in half the numbers wrong.
“What are the calculations?”
Better to think about numbers than making love to her. “I have to add up these columns, take the total, and multiply it by twelve for the year. I take that total and multiply it by this row here, and that gives me the total for this column. Then I have to take that total and use it to do some calculations on another spreadsheet over here,” he said and switched the screen to another complicated spreadsheet. He didn’t know why he kept trying to get the thing in the computer when he could do it faster by hand.
“Why don’t you add a column that has the total of all those columns? Use that to multiply by twelve to get this column. You can use that number to put on this spreadsheet if you have both open at the same time and link them. Do you need to use these figures for projections?” Gillian studied the columns and figures.
He made the mistake of turning his head to look at her and found himself inches from her mouth. He stared into her expectant eyes. Too bad she expected an answer and not a hot, searing kiss to ease the ache in his belly and between his legs.
Her eyes narrowed when he didn’t say anything. “Are you mad at me? Did I do something?”
“No.” Yes. You stand here not knowing what brushing up so close does to me. I want you. I need you. “Everything is fine. I do the projections over here on this paper. I don’t have them in the computer. I hate this thing. It won’t do what it’s supposed to.”
“Don’t be silly. It’ll do anything you tell it to do. Watch.” She took the mouse from his hand, her fingertips brushing his despite how hard she tried not to hit him with her cast. If she noticed the zap of electricity arcing between them, she ignored it. Like always, maddening him even more.
She added a column to his spreadsheet, dragged the mouse across the numbers he wanted to add, and, with a few clicks, told it to add up the numbers. With a few more clicks and drags, she had one spreadsheet linked to the total on the original spreadsheet.
“There. Now all you have to do is enter the information into the rows and the total on this spreadsheet, and the other will calculate for you.”
“How do you know how to do that?”
“I told you. I took basic accounting in high school. I did the books for a garage. This is just a simple accounting spreadsheet. I can pretty much see what you’re trying to figure out here. I can do the projections for you showing you what would happen in one year or five years, depending on the variables you want to use. Whatever you want. There’re all kinds of things you can do with these spreadsheets.” She looked at the folders on the desk and sorted through them, her concentration and focus on them, not him.
“For these salaries and benefits, I can set up another spreadsheet that will help you calculate pay increases, tell you how much you paid in salaries for the year, how much taxes are owed, all the deductions. You can total it for the year and use it for taxes next year.”
She grabbed the other set of folders. “You know, you could take this spreadsheet that lists the amount of feed the horses consume and link it to this spreadsheet to determine the amount of feed you need to order and when. That way you only order what you need and the feed is fresh for the horses.”
He watched her, studied the way she concentrated and mulled over her thoughts by biting the corner of her rosy lip. In less than five minutes, she’d gone through much of his paperwork and figured it out and told him how to do it faster and more efficiently. He knew she was smart, he’d just never thought she’d be interested in fact
s and figures. It seemed, given a chance and some teaching, she was good at everything she tried. Every task she took on, she put all her effort into it and did everything to the best of her ability. She didn’t half-ass anything.
“Fine, you want to take a crack at it? Be my guest. Take all these folders, too. Figure them out. I’m going down to see my mom.”
He needed to get away from her. Her smell, her hair brushing his shoulder, the fact that she was wearing her new jeans that fit her like a second skin, and the fact that he could see the strap of the pink and cream bra he’d bought her peeking out from under her shirt, driving him wild. His heart slammed into his chest. The hard-on pressed to his fly throbbed and kept time with his thrashing heart. He either needed to take a cold shower or bash his head into the wall. Maybe a little pain would take his mind off her and his aching dick.
He pushed back from the desk, letting the chair roll across the hardwood floor, accidentally ramming the chair arm right into her thigh. She cussed under her breath, bent, and rubbed her hand over her sore leg.
“What the hell?” She hissed in a sharp breath.
“Sweetheart, are you okay?” Shit. Bud would have his head for hurting her. “I didn’t mean to hit you. I’m sorry.” He leaned forward, grabbed her leg, and ran his hand over her thigh. She’d bruise. Again. His stomach went tight and burned like acid. Sick he’d put a mark on her, he dropped his head and pressed his forehead to her hip. “I’m so sorry.”
He glanced up, ready for whatever wrath she wanted to spew at him. Instead, he found her steady gaze filled with concern and what he hoped was a longing that matched his own. Her eyes dipped to his hands wrapped around her thigh. He released her, jumped up, and stalked into the living room space. He kept his back to her as he collected himself, trying to forget that look in her eyes, the feel of her toned muscles under his palms, heaven at his fingertips. When she looked at him like that, her eyes soft, like she wanted him to touch her, she undid him. His heart reached out to her just the way he wanted to do with his hands.
He stood, hands on hips, shoulders rigid, and waited for whatever she said next.
“Blake, what’s the matter? Did I do something wrong? You’ve been moody and avoiding me all day. If I did something to make you angry, I wish you’d tell me what it is. If you don’t want me around you anymore, all you have to do is say so.”
“How can you possibly think I don’t want you around me?” That was the furthest thing from the truth. He wanted her as close as humanly possible.
Yeah, he was a little ticked. At himself. He felt so much for her that he didn’t know what to do with himself, since he couldn’t show her how much he wanted her. He tried to take his time. Go slow. But everything inside him wanted her. Right this minute. Now.
He needed the space and time to cool off, but she’d come to him this time. She’d sought him out. That meant something, right? He didn’t know. Not for sure. If he made a wrong move, it could blow everything, so he stood there, trying his damnedest to keep his hands to himself.
“You barely spoke to me this morning. You stayed away from me all day. You haven’t come into the house to get coffee like you normally do. Just tell me what I did. I’m a big girl. I can take it.”
“What you did?” His anger simmered. Better to be angry than to yank her into his arms and devour her whole. She was completely clueless, and that drove him crazy, too. That, and the fact that she was standing there looking so damn beautiful. Her eyes pleaded with him to say something. How many times had her father blamed her for something she didn’t do to make her believe that she caused his bad attitude? Okay, maybe in this case she played a small part, but it was him and his lack of control around her.
No, it was all him. The worst part, he’d made her feel that he didn’t want her around him, when his goal from second one when he saw her was to make her want to be with him. His thoughts swirled. He couldn’t keep up, so how could she?
“I’ll tell you what you did.” He forced the words out. “You showed up here a week ago and turned my whole world upside down. I took one look at you and my heart fell out of my chest and landed at your damn tiny feet. I can’t sleep for thinking about you. Every time I’m near you all I want to do is grab you and kiss you. It’s all I can do to keep my damn hands off you. And let me tell you this, I’m trying. I’m trying to stay the hell away from you because just being near you is making me crazy.” He ran a hand over the side of his head and shoved both his hands deep into his pockets.
Stunned, she didn’t react or say anything, then a soft smile spread across her face. One of those smiles that shows a woman knows something you missed.
“How old are you?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“How old are you?”
Exasperated, he said, “Twenty-eight.”
“Does it bother you that I’m only twenty?”
“No. Why would it? You’re more mature than half the women I know my own age. What does this have to do with anything?”
“I’m trying to figure out what made you mad. It isn’t the age difference, so I guess you’re angry, what, because you like me?”
“I like my mother.”
The corners of her mouth curved up at that, but he wasn’t finished being mad, at what, he had no idea anymore. “It’s a hell of a lot more than liking you.”
“So you’re angry because you more than like me, and you’ve been thinking about me, and you can’t sleep. You want to kiss me, so you’re avoiding me. Is that about right?”
Her face and eyes remained serious, but on the inside she was laughing at him.
“You think this is funny? It’s not. I can’t concentrate on anything. I’ve been staring at that damn spreadsheet for over an hour.”
“Oh, I’m taking you very seriously, because I think you really do have feelings for me, and you aren’t quite sure what to do about that, so you’re mad at me because I made you feel something. Since you’re serious, and I’m serious, I have a question.” She pointed her finger at him. “Lie to me, and I’ll know it.”
“What’s the question?”
“What do you want? A quick toss in the hay to get me out of your system, or something more?”
The girl didn’t mince words, shot from the hip, and took direct aim at his heart. Some of the tension went out of him. Unsure how to answer her without screwing this whole thing up, he took his time and thought about it.
He could keep things casual and give her a vague answer, something in between the two she asked. Or, for the first time in his life, he could lay it on the line and tell her what he really wanted. Straightforward as always, she’d asked the bold question, so he figured he owed her the honest answer.
“You’re the first person I ever thought about in terms of the future, and what that could mean.” He wanted to tell her when he looked at her he thought of waking up with her every day, sleeping with her in his arms every night, rings, and babies. He’d never thought of having a wife and family, but when he looked at her, he wanted to make promises and spend the rest of his life keeping them.
Maybe that’s how it happened to Gabe and Caleb. It explained the lengths Gabe went to protect Ella and win her heart, despite the obstacles of their very different lives.
“Nothing’s going to happen. Your grandfather made himself clear,” Blake said, silently reminding himself again that she was hands off.
“Yes, he did. If I want to get to know you better, the choice is mine. Not his.”
“What?” Surprised, he didn’t think he’d heard her quite right.
“You heard me.”
Blake wanted to go to her and touch her, and still he held back. If he touched her now, he’d never stop. As much as he wanted her, he didn’t want to screw this up. This was one of those moments when one decision could give him everything he wanted and screw everythin
g up. He wanted her. He wanted his job and life here on the ranch. He wanted both, and choosing one meant losing the other. Or did it? Could he have both?
She took a step toward him. He took one back. They’d done this dance for days, but the other way around. Surprised by his move, she took another step, and he took one back. That secret smile touched her lips again. He liked it and hated it.
“Blake, don’t you think that at the age of twenty-eight you should stop acting like a nervous fourteen-year-old boy and just come over here and kiss me.”
She took another step toward him, and he took one back. Confused, he stopped dead in his tracks.
“What did you say?”
“Kiss me.”
She took a step toward him, and he sidestepped the coffee table, making it an obstacle between them when he didn’t even want a breath of air separating them.
“Stay still,” he ordered, going against his mind screaming out, Come here!
“Kiss me.” This time, the smile bloomed. She liked having him on the run.
“I can’t.” If he kissed her, he’d go nuts and drag her to the floor. He’d never stop kissing her until all her clothes were scattered across the hardwood and he kissed every square inch of her. That’s not how he wanted things to be. Right now, he didn’t have control of himself well enough to be gentle. She needed gentle. She’d had enough rough in her life.
“Why can’t you kiss me? You said you want to.” She pouted and took a step toward him. He took a step back and ended up in the exact place he’d started this strange dance around the room. The backs of his thighs pressed into the wood desk. Trapped.
She’d gone from computer wizard to siren in a matter of minutes. Damnit, he was trying to be a gentleman and keep his damn hands off her. Even her broken arm and sprained knee failed to make him stop wanting her.
“Because I don’t think I’ll stop at one kiss. I want you too much.”
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