by Claire King
She buried her face against his neck.
“Grace?” He tried to lift her head, but she shook it, dropped it into the hollow of his neck again. He felt her kiss him there, lick up the sweat she’d left on him.
“Come on, Doc,” he said hoarsely. “Look at me.”
“No.”
He smiled. She sounded very young, very shy. “Why not?”
“It’s—” She shook her head again.
“It’s what?”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“Yeah.” He chuckled low in his throat. “I’m really embarrassed. You can probably feel how embarrassed I am. As a matter of fact—” he nipped her shoulder “—I insist. I want you to feel how embarrassed I am.”
Her face still hidden against him, she reached tentatively down between their bodies, shifting a little so she could reach him. She measured him, felt a sensible jolt of apprehension at his size, then cupped him in her hand. He strained upward, torturing himself against her hand, cursing the denim that separated them.
“I want to make love to you, Grace.”
“I think you just did,” she said, her voice muffled.
“Grace. Be brave. Look at me now.”
She did, and he smiled to see how flushed she was, how satisfied and muddled and aroused she looked still.
“Are we going to?”
She kept her hand on him, stroking. But her face lost that confused look, went serious. “I don’t think so.”
He made a little sound at the back of his throat. Frustration. He wanted to howl with it; would have, but he knew his parents would hear that, no matter how loudly they had the television turned up. “Why the hell not?”
“Because it’s not a good idea.”
“Right now, right this minute, Grace, that doesn’t seem like much of an answer.”
“I know.” She could hardly give him the real one. What kind of neurotic mess told a man she wouldn’t make love with him because she was still a virgin at twenty-seven? That she was so afraid of the shock, or laughter, once any man got a good look at her, that she’d denied herself any kind of normal experimentation? That she was afraid of this man in particular, because she had a feeling his shock, or laughter, could destroy her. “It’s too soon.”
“Not from where I stand. Or lie. Do better.”
She worried her lower lip. “We don’t have any protection.”
“I’m twenty steps from my nightstand, Grace.”
She had to smile. He looked a little crazed.
“I don’t know your sexual history.”
“I’m disease free and I had a shower this afternoon.” She was quiet a moment. “That’s all you’ve got?”
“That’s all I’ve got.”
“Well, sweetheart, you either need to come up with something better, like you have a prosthetic leg and if I jostle it too hard I’ll pull it off, or stop stroking me.”
She was still stroking. “Really?” She looked down into his face. “Stop?”
He swallowed hard. “No. Don’t stop.”
They lay together, panting like teenagers, for a minute. Grace felt goose bumps go up the back of her legs as her body temperature cooled. His hands were still there, petting her, while his body, underneath her, involuntarily pulsed and strained upward.
Oh, she was curious. Curious and aroused, and somehow certain she’d never again get a chance such as this. He certainly wasn’t going to want to do this with her again. It was the moon, and the confession in the diner, and a thousand other stimulants that had nothing at all to do with her personally. Once he came to his senses, he’d go back to being impossible for her and she’d go back to being clearly not what any man wanted.
She was a doctor of veterinary medicine, a grown woman with a family full of earthy and talkative men and an excellent idea of how the male human body responded to stimulus. Not so differently from the male of any other species, as a matter of fact. But as for hands-on experience, so to speak, she had bupkiss. And suddenly she knew this would be her last chance to get some. She took a deep breath and scooted out from under those amazing hands of his.
She unzipped him carefully. He almost levitated from the shock of it.
“What are you doing? I thought we weren’t—” His eyes rolled back in his head. “Oh, man.”
“I just want a quick peek.” She knelt between his legs and held him in her hands. His skin was like satin and unbelievably hot. She felt awkward and inquisitive; stunningly, affectionately so. She leaned over, gave him a delicate kiss that made him moan. She didn’t want to hurt him or disgrace herself with her inexperience, but after that guttural moan, she wouldn’t have stopped touching him for the world. “I’ve never done this before,” she murmured.
He didn’t understand the meaning behind that, didn’t, at the moment, comprehend the innocence of it. His body was already bowed, heels and shoulder blades dug into the grass, anticipating her. “Please, Grace. Anything you do will be—”
He never finished his sentence. Couldn’t speak at all, in fact, for several long, glorious minutes.
When it was finished he did what hasty reparations he could, feeling a little foolish. He hoped she wouldn’t see the flush he felt high on his cheekbones, the goofy grin coming to his lips. It had been a long time, a very long time, since a woman had touched his body that way. He didn’t want to take the chance of looking into her eyes, having her touch his heart, as well.
“Getting cold?” he asked roughly.
“A little.”
He got up, and before she could voice a single protest, picked her right off the damp ground and carried her to his truck. He tossed her in, resisting the urge to pat her cotton-clad bottom, and went back for her slacks. He handed them to her, turned on the truck, switched up the heater full-blast. He felt a little better, a little less like a randy teenage idiot doing that, taking care of her. Until he met her eyes and caught her staring. He felt the flush creep up again.
“What?”
She shook her head, looked away. “Nothing.”
He frowned. “Look, sorry about that. I couldn’t help myself.”
“I don’t even know how you do it,” she blurted.
His felt his face go even warmer. “Well, hell, I was pretty excited.”
“What does that have to do with it?”
He gaped at her. “Are you joking?”
“No, really. Is it adrenal, then, or something?”
“Uh, Doc, I hate to say it, but you seem pretty surprised by the whole thing. Didn’t you know that would happen?”
“Of course not. Not in my entire life has that ever happened.”
“Great.” He ran his hands down his face. “You probably think I’m a pervert.”
“What? No. I think you’re— How did you do that?”
“Well,” he choked, embarrassed. “I didn’t, really. You did. You’ve got great hands, Doc. I’ve always thought so.”
“What are you talking about?”
He hesitated. “What are you talking about?”
“Picking me up like that. I’m not exactly a small girl, Daniel. You lifted me right off the ground. Twice!”
He stared at her for another minute, then burst out laughing. Laughed until his stomach hurt. Laughed until his head dropped forward and leaned on the horn, making them both jump.
She punched him in the arm. “What did you think I was talking about?” He raised his brows at her, dipped his chin. “That? Oh, my God!” She was laughing now, too. “You are a pervert,” she said.
“I know.” He shook his head, ran his hands down his face again. “I haven’t done that for years. Two minutes in your hands and I went off like a rocket. No control. I don’t think I’ve been that turned on since high school.”
She scooted into her pants, took a glance in the rearview mirror and was immediately sorry she had. “I’ve never done it,” she said impulsively, then wanted to clamp a hand over her mouth.
“You were amazingly skilled for you
r first time.” He’d avoided watching her wriggle into her slacks. No sense getting all worked up again. So soon. “What do you mean, you’ve never done it?”
“I mean, I’ve never done that specific—act.”
“You’re twenty-five years old.”
“Well, a couple years older than that,” she admitted miserably. Here it came. Now that he’d satisfied his curiosity with the town giant, the jokes would start. If he called her a big girl again, she would probably start bawling. Grace scooted herself as close to the door handle as she could get, a self-protective gesture that belied the smile she forced to her kiss-swollen lips. “And, anyway, I know how old I am.”
“Don’t hunch over like that, Doc,” Daniel said crossly. “I’m just surprised.”
She ran her fingers under her eyes, belatedly checking for mascara. “Oh, come on,” she said with practiced cheer. “Look at me.”
He frowned at her. “I have. Believe me.” He reached out and tucked a strand of silky hair behind her ear. There was that vulnerability again. She hid it well, he thought, but he was getting used to looking for it. Poor Grace. All that wonderful long length of mouthwatering body and nobody had every taught her to appreciate it. Thank goodness, a traitorous little voice in his head whispered. “What the hell is wrong with the men on this planet?”
“I don’t know.” A corner of her mouth turned up. “You’re the only one who’s let me get close enough to examine.”
He grinned. “Anytime.” He opened the door, got out to stand beside the truck, let the chilly spring breeze take a measure of the heat that was rolling off his body. Jeez. What was happening to him? He was aroused again, and he hadn’t even watched her put her clothes back on. “Although we might want to actually go inside next time.”
A long silence greeted that. “There won’t be a next time, Daniel.”
He looked up at her, his hand at his jaw.
“Are you nuts? We practically explode every time we’re within a hundred feet of each other. You think this isn’t going to happen again?”
Grace took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Now that she had her clothes back on, she could think a little more clearly. Wasn’t that always the case? Didn’t women always make stupid decisions in the passionate heat of a naked moment?
Well, that moment was finished now, and it was time for Grace McKenna to use the excellent brain she’d been born with. “I can’t be someone casual, Daniel.”
“You’re the least casual woman I know, McKenna.”
She couldn’t face him, though she knew he was boring holes into the side of her head with that moss-green stare. “You know what I mean. You are never going to fall in love with me. I’m never going to fall in love with you.” Oh, that particular little fib was a hard one to push past the old vocal chords. “You resent me for being the vet in this town. In your town.”
“That’s crap. I don’t resent you.” But he did, a little, and he was ashamed of himself.
Grace didn’t believe him, and she let the sting of his small lie strengthen her resolve. If he could hurt her with something as innocuous as that, she was doomed if she ever let herself fall in love with him. She leaned her cheek against the cool window. It didn’t matter, anyway. She knew she was using his obvious resentment over the vet practice as an excuse for what she could hardly say out loud. That the real reason he would never fall in love with her had nothing to do with her job and everything to do with herself.
“I’m not willing or able to make love with someone I don’t love, and who doesn’t love me,” she explained slowly. “It’s a stupid and disrespectful thing to do with my body, and I’ll be hurt at the end of it.”
“Grace, this is—” He almost said the most awkward, annoying conversation he’d ever had, but he stopped himself. He could tell how difficult it was for her to say this to him, how she’d curled into the seat, her legs tucked under her and her arms crossed on her chest, her head turned to the moon outside the window. “This is hard to even explain.”
She looked at him then, her eyes eloquent, defenseless. “Try.”
He dragged his lip between his teeth, stalling. “I don’t think I can love anyone.” The admission was painful, though levelly, honestly said; she deserved the truth. “Look,” he continued, his voice softening, “I’m sorry. It has nothing to do with you. It’s a decision I made years ago. I loved my wife, Grace. I let my guard down and my world pretty much blew up in my face. I’m not going through that again. But I like you, and I’m attracted to you, and I want to go on seeing you.”
Funny, he described falling in love as letting his guard down, Grace thought. She had always looked at it in exactly the same way.
“I like you, too.” She smiled. “As surprising as that sounds. But I won’t have an affair. I’m not—tough enough.” She made a wry face. “You probably think that sounds silly, considering how tough I look.”
He had no idea what she was talking about. Right now, she looked about as tough as a baby bunny. “You’ll never be with anyone unless they love you? Unless you love them? I don’t think it’s silly, I think it’s damn restrictive.”
“Yes, fine, it probably is.” But it was also safe, and she so wanted to keep her innocent heart safe. “It’s who I am. I can’t change anymore than you can.”
“Okay. Fine. Do what you have to do.” He watched the lights go out at his parents’ house, knew they were turning off the news and snuggling into their queen-size bed together. It gave him a hollow feeling thinking of it. He’d allowed his bitterness over a vet school and the divorce to chill his heart. He’d known it long before Grace had pointed it out to him. He didn’t believe in love anymore. He believed in sex, he believed in himself, he believed in the ranch and the land and the family. And that was pretty much it.
If he couldn’t give Grace his love—amazing, smart and sexy Grace—then it was very unlikely he’d ever share his own house with anyone.
“I do like you, Daniel,” Grace said softly.
He squinted up at the moon. “I like you, too.”
“Maybe we can be friends.”
Daniel snorted softly. “Maybe, Doc.” He reached in and shut off the ignition of his pickup. “But I doubt it.”
Daniel reined his big horse around another pair of Herefords, mamma and baby, and scooped them into the herd he was moving across one of the north pastures. Fifty or so cows moved slowly, calmly, ahead of him, each cow with a two-week calf at her side.
They’d make a nice profit for the ranch come fall, the calves. Daniel Cash always made a profit. An excellent one. While most of his neighboring cattlemen struggled to make ends meet, Cash Cattle, Incorporated, made every land payment on time, was current on its taxes, and bought new equipment when it needed to instead of piecing things together with baling twine and hope.
And every minute Daniel Cash was working like a madman for that profit, showing everyone in Nobel, Idaho, he wasn’t a loser and a cheat, he was wishing he was in the little clinic on Main Street, tending to his life’s dream.
She was tending to it, now. Grace. The thought of her brought a strange little constriction to his heart. Last night had been amazing, and if she’d been any other woman, and he any other man, he never would have let her leave. But she wanted more, and was right to. She deserved more. He just couldn’t give more.
But, man, the sex. What there had been of it was sexier, hotter, more incredible than anything he’d ever had with anyone. It had been impossible to erase it from his thoughts, and more than once during the sleepless night, he’d brought his fingers to his nose, imprinting the scent of her body into his brain.
Mind elsewhere, he automatically clucked at another pair of resting cattle, watched them pick themselves up, rumps first, and fall in with the herd.
A movement caught the corner of his eye, and he stopped his horse to watch his brother come loping toward him. Frank had always sat a horse well, Daniel thought. He’d rodeoed in high school, but Sara had made him stop when t
hey got married. It scared her to think of him riding broncs, trusting his life to the strength of a cinch and one hand. And Frank had given it up for her. Happily. As he’d done everything for her. As he’d done nothing since she and the baby died.
“Danny,” Frank said.
“Hey, Frank.” He kept his eye on a balky pair of cattle in front of him. “What’s going on?”
“Spy got kicked by the roan mare.”
Daniel’s head snapped around. Spy was his favorite border collie, a valuable dog to the ranch, and a good friend. “Where is she?”
“I left her in the barn.”
“Anything broken, can you tell?”
“I can’t tell, but I think you need to go take a look at her.”
“You’ll head these in?”
Frank blinked rapidly, as though the low spring sun was too bright for him. Another odd little habit he’d picked up lately. Daniel didn’t want to think what it could mean, these tics his brother was displaying. Refused to.
“Yeah. Okay.”
Daniel swung his horse around and started for the barn.
“I wanted to know if you thought about what we talked about the other night,” his brother called out, as if it were an afterthought.
Daniel stopped his horse, nimbly turning it to face Frank again. He knew better. This was no afterthought.
“Hell, Frank.”
“Be disgusted all you want, you son of a bitch,” Frank said tightly. “Just give me what I want and I’ll be out of your hair.”
“I don’t want you out of my hair, Frank. I just want my brother back.”
“Well, Danny, he’s not coming back. Get used to it. I have.”
“Have you? Seems to me you’re fighting yourself every minute of the day.”
“No, I’m fighting you every minute of the day. I went to the folks yesterday.”
Daniel squinted at his brother. “Sorry?”
“I went to them. I wrote out a proposal and gave it to them, outlining what we could liquidate around here so they could buy out my shares, since you don’t want to do it.”
Daniel was half out of his saddle before he checked his temper. “I cannot believe this, Frank.”