by KC Klein
Shock had her gasping as if he’d stolen the very breath from her lungs. “Then I don’t want you to ask. I mean if this is how you feel . . .”
“Really? Could’ve fooled me. Coming to my barn half dressed with lust burning in your eyes . . . smacks of manipulation to me. To some it could even be labeled as a tease.” His fingers were so cold that he balled them in a fist to keep them warm.
Katie stepped back, her arms folded around her middle, holding herself like he’d seen her do when she was upset as a child. Tears spilled and her mouth formed a silent “no.” “Cole, I don’t . . . it wasn’t like that. I wasn’t teasing. If that’s what this is about, then I don’t need marriage. All I want, all I ever wanted was to love—”
“Shut up!” His hands came up to cover his face. He’d never spoken to her like that before, but he couldn’t hear what she wanted to say. He couldn’t listen to those words and remain on his feet. He scrubbed his hands over his face, and then after a moment forced them back at his sides. “Last night, I wasn’t thinking. I was angry. A friend of mine, a . . . girlfriend of mine had blown me off and, well, actually when I heard someone coming into the barn, I thought it was her.”
Liar. Bona fide—burn in all seven different types of hell—liar. And then he couldn’t look at her anymore. It was easier to watch her hat roll around in the dust than have the image of Katie’s face burned into his brain. “And well, when I saw it was you, I thought six of one or half a dozen the other.”
Silence. If his body wasn’t so aware of her, he’d have thought she’d left.
“Was it . . .” Her breath hitched, then she tried again. “Was it Sarah?”
“What?” He whipped his gaze to her. And his heart broke, simply shattered because his girl was lost, all her composure gone. But then Katie was never one to hide. Tears mixed with the dust on her face, red and blotchy from crying. Her body huddled in on itself. If ever another man hurt her like this, Cole would’ve killed him.
“Was it Sarah?” She screamed it this time, her gaze already filling with hate.
Who the hell was Sarah? But from the anguish on Katie’s face, he could tell it would be the final nail. So he swung the hammer.
“Yeah.”
He was weak, so weak, because he locked his knees to keep from falling and closed his eyes to keep from seeing. He couldn’t have his last image be of her running away from him.
His eyes stung, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. He hadn’t cried at his father’s funeral or his mother’s. And he sure the hell wasn’t going to cry over a stupid horse or a foolish girl.
But he couldn’t help wondering if he’d ever breathe again without pain. He wouldn’t count on it.
Broke the girl . . . broke the man.
Chapter 17
Present day
Katie had stared at Cole’s back as he retreated down the hall. The door had slammed, making her flinch. Everything in her screamed to get him back.
Her heart had broken, her feet moved, and she was running down the hall, fumbling with the doorknob. Then she’d stopped.
Why was she chasing? To get him back? To say . . . sorry? God, for what? He’d kissed her, hadn’t he? She hadn’t kissed him back, had she?
She slammed her fist against the door, once . . . twice. Then turned, and slid to the floor. Knees bent, hands splayed across her face. A sob slipped out, and she bit hard on her finger to refocus her pain.
There’d been a reason why she’d taken off her ring on the plane and a reason why she’d put it back on. The last two days she’d been in a fog; she couldn’t think. She was having a hard time remembering why she’d left in the first place. But she’d had to. She couldn’t be with a man who was cruel. The way Cole had handled Sweet Thing all those years ago spoke the truth, no matter what her lying heart said.
She was engaged to another man. Someone she loved, who loved her. And she liked kissing Thomas. Thomas was nice, comfortable. And . . .
Not Cole.
“Damn you to hell, Cole Logan!” she screamed to the empty house. Why did he do this to her? And why . . . why did she have no boundaries with him, no sense of self-preservation. She’d moved on. He’d had his chance, and now he was kissing her. And worse . . .
Say it. Be honest.
Shame filled her, heating her face. She covered the evidence with her hands. She didn’t know how long she stayed that way.
If he hadn’t stopped, would she have? Would she have said yes with her body right there on the kitchen table?
Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.
A buzzing sounded, and her phone jiggled unconcerned in her pocket. Katie swiped at her eyes and nose with the back of her hand. Where was a tissue when you needed it? She pulled out her phone and read the name. Thomas.
Her heart sank . . . the weight of guilt? She swallowed. One push of a button and she could still the vibration. Keep real life and real world responsibilities from crashing in.
She touched the screen.
“Hello?” Did she sound like she’d been crying?
“Katie, where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for days,” Thomas said, with concern. “The last I heard from you was a text that told me you made it to Texas. What’s going on?”
This she could talk about. When had her father’s heart attack become a secondary concern? And what did that say about her? She quickly filled Thomas in. Her father’s surgery, his stint in intensive care, the hours of not knowing if he was going to make it.
“You’ve been crying. Are you okay?” He didn’t wait for an answer, his worry for her making him impatient. “That’s it. I’m coming down. I never should’ve let you talk me into letting you go alone.”
“God no!” Then she eased the panic from her voice and tried again. “I mean no, really, I’m okay. Pa’s doing better, but it’s going to take a bit longer. I promise I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Silence. That hadn’t come out right, but she didn’t know how to fix it.
“Katie, I love you. You know that, right?” His voice was thick with emotion.
She couldn’t speak past the closing of her throat and covered her mouth to keep her sob behind closed lips. She nodded instead.
“Katie?”
She swallowed hard and took a steadying breath. “I know. I know you do . . . I love you, too.”
Her voice had sounded so strong, sure. And for once she’d done the right thing because Thomas seemed reassured.
She watched as the screen on her phone went black, and then hung her head in her hands. If guilt could eat at a person, and confession was good for the soul, then she should call Thomas back and tell him everything.
But there’d be no absolution for her. No, her sin wasn’t in the kiss, but in her betrayal of the wrong man.
Nikki was an idiot. A total idiot. Her super coolness, the confidence she had about keeping this whole situation under control, had melted quicker than sugar in a hot latte.
There was simply no way anything good could come out of straddling Jett’s lap and letting him kiss her like a girl on her way to losing her virginity. She was a smart girl. She knew how to jump a ball over the eight to make a shot in pool, how to drop a ball into a pocket just barely so it looked like dumb luck instead of skill. She knew how to read a man twice her age and twice her income bracket.
And she also knew she was in way over her head.
But the problem was, besides being devastatingly handsome, he was a good kisser. Okay, not just good, but great. There was a part of her that loved the way he had of cradling her face in his palms, of nibbling on her lips, taking his time like she was the best thing that had happened to him all day . . . all year. Then there was another part, an alter ego looking shockingly like her mother with bifocals and mousy brown hair that was desperately tapping her on the shoulder telling her she was nothing special. Jett had experience. He’d learned the ins and outs of how to kiss, and only a very foolish woman would be swept up into the whi
rlwind that was Jett.
But for one moment she wanted to be that foolish woman. He tasted so good, like tequila, salt, and lime. He felt good too. She pulled on his shirt, untucking it, and slipped her hands underneath. His chest was smooth, and she was surprised to only feel a light dusting of hair.
He grasped her hands and pinned them down at her sides. She might’ve taken his reaction as lack of interest except he did that thing with his teeth on her lips, and she went back to thinking of how good of a kisser he was. And she might’ve even let it slip once or maybe twice that this was good . . . felt good! Not that he needed the confidence boost—he didn’t. It was just she had no idea that kissing could be like this. And she hadn’t meant to say those words out loud, but it was hard to think of anything else when all that was occupying her mind was, wow, this is good.
Okay two thoughts, wow, this is good, and please let’s move on to the next thing. Because even though her lips loved the attention, just about every other body part was screaming in jealousy. Then finally—his lips left hers and found a wonderful spot on her neck. And he spent some time there—on her collarbone, around her ear. All wonderful of course, but she wanted him lower. Lower, right about breast level and if she was really being honest with herself even lower.
Maybe for all his experience he didn’t get how things progressed. She wasn’t completely clear on how things went, but even she knew they’d walked, run, hell—picked up and taken off with first base. It was time for a double. Maybe if she just let the string on her tank top fall past her shoulder, he’d get the point.
She dropped her shoulder.
The strap fell.
He put it right back up, firmly in place.
She wanted to cry.
Her alter ego pushed her glasses back up on her nose and pursed her lips. See, he’s just playing with you.
Nikki shook her head. This had got to stop. This was ridiculous. She and Jett were ridiculous.
“Jett. Jett, I don’t want to sleep with you.” Her voice was all breathy and Lord, she sounded weak.
His mouth was back on hers as he sucked on her bottom lip. “I don’t want to sleep with you either.”
Oh good, except she loved the way the words sounded against her skin, and she opened her mouth even wider to take him in. It took a few minutes, but she was proud of herself when she finally came back to the issue at hand. “If we sleep together, it will ruin everything.”
“Everything,” he agreed.
“Our friendship.” Listing reasons seemed to be a smart idea.
“Cole’s friendship.”
Good reason, and there was another one, she was sure, except his mouth hovered above the neckline of her shirt and then rested on the dip of her breastbone. “Um . . . ahh . . . you’re a player. You’d end up breaking my heart.”
“And you’re a pain in the ass, so not worth the trouble,” he said between small flicks of his tongue along the top of her breasts.
Damn he was good! “So we’re in agreement then?”
“Totally,” he murmured, but it was hard to hear since his face was buried between her breasts.
“So we’ll stop . . . in just a few moments. Just one more minute.”
“How about five?”
“Okay, we’ll do ten, but that’s it.”
“Your call, Texas.”
It was hard to concentrate. Colors swirled behind her eyes, and the need to create friction against Jett’s lap was starting to become all-encompassing. “Ah, Jett?”
“Yes?”
“Would you be willing to spend the rest of our time . . . um . . . ?”
“Here?” He pulled the top of her shirt down and her breasts popped free.
“Yeah, yeah . . . that’ll work.” She would not embarrass herself by begging.
Finally, he was putting his attention where it needed to be, but there was no relief. Slowly he drew his tongue around the sensitive skin puckering her nipples into tight nubs. She tunneled her fingers through his hair and pulled his head lower, hoping he would get the point.
He didn’t. And people said she was the stubborn one.
Jett knew how to kiss. He’d been practicing the skill since, hell, since when? Oh, when Caroline had let him peck her on the lips behind the slide during recess. Ever since, mouths had been his thing. He loved juicy full lips, loved to tug on them with his teeth, then taste them with his tongue. And Nikki had the best lips, full and pink against her tan skin. He’d wanted to taste them since forever. He’d only given in to that temptation once, years ago, and that had ended in disaster.
Remembering the other time Nikki had sat on his lap and straddled his legs had a whole new level of heat surging through his blood. He remembered how she tasted different from today—like tears instead of tequila and desperation instead of daring. He remembered the promise he’d made to her that he would always be there for her, never leave. Which, of course, didn’t say much for the promise he’d made to himself afterward to swear off all Logans. Yeah, he’d just broken another promise since a Logan was riding his lap and sighing in his ear.
He remembered how he’d restrained himself, kept things from going too far. Except things had gone a little too far last time, and things were going a lot too far this time. Not that he thought he’d lost control. No, he never lost control. Jett had kissed and done more with plenty of women in his time. From sexy to shy, from dirty to nice, he’d tasted every flavor and he was rarely surprised. Except with Nikki. Surprised because she was possibly the worst kisser he’d ever met.
With her sassy, trash-talking mouth, he hadn’t expected such naïve innocence. It was in the little things. What she said, “God, Jett, you’re a good kisser.” To how she wanted to rush like a teenager trying to get everything in before her parents got home. Either no one had taken the time to show her what a thorough kiss was or she’d not had nearly as much experience as she let on. Either scenario was just fine with him.
He’d planned to kiss her, thoroughly yes, but that was it. Show her the path she was on was dangerous. Show her that most guys weren’t nearly as nice as he was and some were out-and-out jerks.
His plan hadn’t involved breasts. Nikki’s breasts had him changing his mind about being a lip man. But still he was in control. He took things slow—light kisses, teasing licks, but no taking the full pink tips that were bouncing in front of his face fully into his mouth and sucking them in a rhythm meant to bring them both to their knees. Nope. That was crossing the line and putting Nikki into the category of “women he slept with,” and it was not going to happen.
“Ahh, Jett?”
He was absolutely going crazy over the way she said his name. Her voice was all breathy, and need was making it slightly more high-pitched.
“Yeah, Texas.” His didn’t sound much better.
“Those ten minutes went by fast.”
Too fast, but he was having a hard time making himself get her off his lap.
“So how about a new rule.”
“Yeah. We need another rule.” Come on, Nik, help a guy out. It was hard when she was all soft and hot in his arms. He wasn’t used to denying himself—self-deprivation had never been his thing.
“Only kissing.”
“Kissing?”
“Yeah, you’re a really good kisser.”
“So you’ve said.” He desperately wanted to show her what else he was good at.
“But we stop there. Only kissing.”
“Ahh . . .” This was not a better rule. In fact, this was the worst possible rule she could’ve come up with. Did she have no idea the parts of her that he could kiss?
“You said I needed practice.” Her lips were slightly pouty, blue eyes full and deep.
And that was when his game plan backfired. He knew exactly when her patience with him had reached its limits. He knew Nikki’s patience and its limits. She’d lay the groundwork for a pool game like a mathematician setting up for a complicated algebraic equation. But when she had the win in sight, sh
e’d go after it like an arrow to a bull’s-eye. And she’d just decided that she was done waiting for him.
He watched her cross her arms, grab hold of her shirt and pull. It would’ve been a perfect time for him to stop her, push her off his lap, go pound his head through a wall. A flimsy tank top went flying across his living room.
He dropped his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes, but the image of Nikki naked from the waist up was burned into the frontal lobe of his brain.
Keep cool. Keep cool. He sucked air in through his teeth and prepared himself to shut this whole thing down.
Then Nikki framed his face with her hands and kissed him for all she was worth. Heaven help him, he was in trouble because Nikki was a fast learner.
Chapter 18
Katie’s boots made swishing sounds as she ran across the high grass between Cole’s and Pa’s houses. Only a few stars were out and the moon hid, refusing to light her way. Didn’t matter. She could find her way in a snowstorm, blindfolded, walking backward.
Her heart thudded in her chest while she wrestled with her winter coat, bundled tightly over her nightshirt and jeans. At least she had had enough sense to throw on her boots. Her breath made small white puffs in the air, but she wasn’t cold. Her blood pumped hot, heating her veins. She stomped past the stables with no more than a glance. Not tonight.
And in reality that’s exactly what she should do. Not tonight. She should wait for morning, turn back, put a damn bra on. But she clamped her jaw shut and pushed forward.
Whatever was between her and Cole was going to be decided, here and now. She couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, and she wasn’t going to spend one more night twisted into knots of anger, guilt, and lus—no. There was nothing else between them.
Her booted feet were loud as they stomped up the porch steps that smelled of fresh paint and newly cut wood. But the screen was the same, flimsy with a broken lock. Katie pulled it open and turned the knob of the front door. It wasn’t locked, never had been. Cole didn’t have anything worth stealing.