Matter of fact, he could ride over to Cathy's house right now and expect to be asked inside. Before this cave incident, that would have seemed like a terrific option. But a mysterious woman had captured his imagination, and he didn't think an average roll in the hay would measure up tonight.
With a sigh he picked up his shirt, shook it out, and ducked out of the cave into the fragrant, rain-drenched desert. He'd go for a beer.
* * *
B.J. hurried home, praying all the way that Jonas didn't take a third option and head back to the ranch. If he made it there ahead of her, he'd find Hot Stuff hanging around the corral. He might not figure out the cave thing immediately, but he'd be worried sick about her, and she didn't want that.
But if he did beat her home and came out looking for her, she'd dream up some story of getting thrown off her horse and knocked unconscious. Yeah, that was it. She'd been knocked out cold for the past hour.
Yet he still might wonder when he noticed that she was wearing a T-shirt that had to remind him of the woman in the cave. Oh God, what had she gotten herself into? She still couldn't believe what had happened in that cave.
Once she'd decided to adopt a different persona, she'd changed from timid B.J. to daring Sarah almost instantly. Apparently all those urges had lived within her for years waiting for a chance to be turned loose. One bold move had led to another, until she was naked and asking for… Goodness! Asking for everything. Had she really done that? Her cheeks warmed at the memory of how wantonly she'd behaved. And how powerful she'd felt.
She'd brought Jonas to heel. As Sarah the sculptor, she'd wrapped him around her little finger. And she'd loved it!
A grin teased her lips, followed by a chuckle, and finally a bubble of laughter. Lifting her arms over her head she danced a little boogie step of triumph. For the time being, the Romeo of Saguaro Junction belonged entirely to her.
* * *
Chapter 3
«^»
B.J. made it home ahead of everybody. She had time to put her horse away, shower, change clothes and braid her hair before her father and Noah came back from town. Fortunately she and her dad lived in a little cottage separate from the main ranch house. She pretended exhaustion and turned in early so there was no chance she'd have to face Jonas again that night.
She'd expected to toss and turn for hours, but instead she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep and awoke feeling fantastic. As she stretched and climbed out of bed in the pale light of dawn, she decided that her bold alter ego must be good for her health. Lusty sex must be good for her, too. She'd never felt more alive.
It was early, not yet six, but Arch was already up and gone. He'd have fed the horses by now and was probably working with Noah to unload the hay they'd bought the day before. B.J. grabbed a banana and poured a cup of coffee into her favorite no-spill mug before she went out to help them.
Even this early, the rising sun had a bite to it. Today would be hot and steamy as the moisture from yesterday's rain saturated the air. B.J. glanced at a bank of clouds forming close to the mountains. Maybe it would rain again this afternoon, or maybe even tonight. Tonight. Despite the growing heat of the day, she felt goose bumps on her arms at the thought of making love to Jonas.
And speak of the devil. She paused when she noticed that Jonas was in the round pen putting a filly through her paces. The young horse's russet coat gleamed in the sunlight as she circled the enclosure on a long-line.
Before six in the morning was early for Jonas to be out of bed. He never had taken this ranching business as seriously as his brother. Of course Noah worked harder than he had to – everybody agreed about that. Jonas, on the other hand, did no more than was absolutely necessary, preferring to spend his spare time socializing.
Yet here he was, up and working this morning. Interesting. Despite being a football field's distance away, she knew immediately it was Jonas and not his brother. Noah was about an inch taller than Jonas, and his hair was a lighter shade of brown. But it was the way the two men moved that identified them for B.J. Noah's motions were deliberate and sure, inspiring confidence and trust in both people and animals. Noah was steady.
On the other hand, Jonas had the innate grace of a large jungle cat. A cat on the prowl. He wore his jeans a little snugger than most men and seemed a little quicker to shed his shirt in the heat of an August day. While Noah leaned toward the cattle side of the ranch operation, Jonas liked working with the horses, and the more high-spirited, the better.
Some of the neighbors thought Jonas was lazy, but B.J. knew better. When he was interested in a project he was tireless, but tedium bored him. He rated every activity by its pleasure quotient.
Because of that, B.J. was sure that making love ranked very high on the scale. From the jut of his pelvis to the twinkle in his eye, he was obviously a man who enjoyed his own sexuality and looked for that quality in the women he met. Jonas wasn't what you'd call steady, but he sure was exciting.
Until yesterday afternoon, B.J. hadn't thought she could ever interest a man like Jonas. A flush spread through her as she recalled how completely she'd caught his interest. She wondered if she'd be able to meet his gaze today without blushing. How could she answer his smile of greeting without staring at that sensuous mouth? She knew where that mouth had been, knew what it could do.
She had plans for that mouth tonight. She had plans for the rest of him, too. And if she expected those plans to work out, she'd have to act totally nonchalant today.
That meant she had to stop staring at him and get on with her chores. She cleared her throat. "Hey, Jonas," she called as she walked past the round pen. "You're up kind of early. Did Noah drag you out of bed?"
"I wish I could blame Noah. But I got my own self up early, for some stupid reason. Couldn't sleep."
Because he was excited about what would happen tonight. Her stomach flip-flopped. Staying nonchalant wouldn't be easy. "How's it going with Imelda?" They'd named the filly Imelda because she seemed to need shoes more often than any of the other horses.
"Oh, like a typical girl she's teasing me." He flashed her a grin. "But I have her number. She'll come around."
"One of these days you're going to run up against a female who'll beat you at your own game, Jonas."
He winked at her. "Maybe so. But it hasn't happened yet."
"Pride goes before a fall, and all that." B.J. had always found Jonas's cocky attitude maddening, but sexy. Now that she'd literally brought him to his knees, she loved the challenge of baiting him, knowing she would make him quiver with desire later on. She wanted to believe that she was doing it for all the women he'd loved and left, but in her heart she knew that wasn't true. She was playing this game for herself.
"I'm not proud," Jonas said. "Just good. Are the banana and coffee for me?"
She'd forgotten she was holding them. "Nope. It's my breakfast." She set her coffee mug on the fence post and peeled the banana. Maybe her experience from yesterday had started coloring her world, because the banana suddenly took on sexual significance.
A banana was a very sexy fruit, come to think of it. She closed her lips and tongue over it and savored the sensation of holding it in her mouth.
"Hey, we're not making X-rated movies today!" Jonas said with a laugh. "Cut that out."
She glanced at him. Although he was smiling, there was a spark of awareness in his eyes. Well, that was natural. He was anticipating his evening with Sarah, so ordinary things were sexually charged for him, too. Still, it was the first time he'd ever worn that expression while looking at her.
She bit off a chunk of her banana, chewed and swallowed it. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said. Then she picked up her coffee mug and walked toward the barn. If there was an extra sway to her hips, well, she couldn't help that, now could she? And if Jonas happened to notice, she couldn't be held responsible for that, either.
On the far side of the barn, her father and Noah were stacking fresh bales of hay under the open-sided hay
shed. They both worked with the economical movements of men who'd been doing such chores all their lives. And they might complain about the hard labor, but neither of them would trade it for the world. Ranching was in their blood, as it was in hers.
It hadn't been in her mother's, unfortunately. From what her father had said, her mother hadn't been very happy here. Arch thought B.J.'s sister Keely had inherited their mother's high-strung, adventurous spirit, which is why she'd needed to leave. B.J. had always thought of herself as conventional, like her father, but after yesterday, she'd begun to wonder if there wasn't some of her mother lurking in her, too.
Arch hadn't remarried after his wife died, although B.J. had watched several local women try to snag him. He was a good catch, still slim and athletic. The gray in his red hair and mustache only added to his appeal, in B.J.'s opinion. But she suspected that Arch's memory of his creative, sensual wife had spoiled him for women who colored inside the lies, and that described most of the female population of Saguaro Junction.
Her father heaved another bale up to Noah and turned toward her. "Well, if it isn't Sleeping Beauty," he said with a smile. "You feeling okay?"
"Great," she said.
"That's good. With you going to bed so early I was afraid you might be coming down with something."
"Fortunately I'm not. Hey there, Noah."
"Hey, yourself." Noah smiled down at her from the stack of hay bales. "If you were getting sick, I'd say you sent that bug packing. You look totally healthy. Extremely healthy."
"Good." Apparently the glow she felt showed. "Is that your way of telling me to take this healthy body, hitch up the tractor and rake the corral?"
Noah laughed. "Couldn't hurt."
"I'll get right on it." But first she had to come up with a reason to spend the evening at Sarah's house, a reason that would sound logical to her father and Noah. Jonas would have no trouble getting away tonight. He was expected to gallivant around the countryside without accounting for himself. But she'd established a pattern of letting her father know where she was going.
Probably in order to differentiate herself from Keely, she'd taken pains not to flaunt her sexual activities in front of Arch. A couple of years ago she'd become involved with a guy she'd wanted to spend the night with, and she'd paired their dates with trips to Phoenix for country-western concerts. She'd been vague about the sleeping arrangements, but her father had known the name of her hotel. That romance had fizzled, and she'd had no sleep-over urges with anyone since.
She started toward the barn, where the tractor was parked. Then she paused, as if suddenly remembering something. "By the way, I need to spend a few hours over at Sarah's tonight."
"A few hours?" her dad said. "She must have a damned greenhouse over there if it takes you a whole evening to water her plants."
"The indoor plants are no problem, but the vegetable garden needs a good soaking, so I thought I'd take a book and do that tonight." B.J. was amazed at herself. Keely had been the one who could spin tall tales at a moment's notice, but B.J. had never considered herself good at it.
Arch snorted. "You can soak all you want, but it'll be a waste of water. I guess since she's from back East, she doesn't know that it's useless to try and grow vegetables in August unless you tend them constantly."
"You're right, but I told her I'd do what I could," B.J. said. "I'm not sure when I'll be back, but I didn't want you to worry."
"I never worry about you," Arch said. "I just hate to see a waste of good water."
"After one summer I'm sure she'll figure it out. Well, I'd better go start cleaning the corral before the steering wheel gets too hot to hold."
"We picked up a new thermostat for the tractor yesterday," Noah called down from the top of the hay. "I set it on the shelf by the door, in case you need to put it in."
"Okay." As she walked toward the barn she thought of how casually Noah had mentioned the thermostat to her. He knew she could handle the situation. But she doubted if Sarah had ever replaced a thermostat, and Keely definitely hadn't. It would play hell with her manicure. But good old B.J. could put a new thermostat in a tractor. That B.J. was just like one of the guys.
She sighed. No wonder Jonas had never thought of her as a femme fatale girl.
* * *
Jonas clucked his tongue and coaxed Imelda into reversing her direction in the round pen. She had a smooth gait and lots of spunk. He was looking forward to the day he could ride her, but working with Imelda hadn't been the reason he'd climbed out of bed so early this mowing.
His blood was already running hot, his body humming with eagerness, and he had more than twelve hours to go. He wasn't sure how he'd make it through the day. Of course, there was always a fence to be repaired and post holes to be dug. Both activities would take the edge off, but he didn't want to take the edge off. He didn't want to exhaust himself and be unable to enjoy every single minute with Sarah.
He was already worried that he hadn't racked up enough z's to be fresh and alert come eight o'clock. But the possibilities of what Sarah planned to do with him had kept him awake a good part of the night. He'd had an erection most of that time, too.
After a night of fantasizing, everything this morning had made him think of sex – the shower nozzle, the vibration of his electric razor, the yeasty smell of pancake batter, the butter oozing over his pancakes, the syrup. The syrup bottle, for God's sake.
That probably explained why he'd looked at B.J. with the banana this morning and had such X-rated thoughts. As if B.J. would ever in her life go down on a guy. When she'd acted like she didn't know what he was talking about, he'd believed her.
He knew she wasn't a virgin, though. At least he assumed that when she'd been attending all those concerts in Phoenix with Jeff Cheney, something had been going on post-concert in the hotel.
But with B.J. it was probably missionary position all the way.
Funny that in all these years he'd never noticed what a cute butt she had, though. As she'd walked away from him, he hadn't been able to take his attention off of her behind. Those faded back pockets shifted in a real sweet rhythm when she walked, and the back seam of her jeans was pretty damn snug against her crotch. She had a nice package there.
She probably didn't realize how sexy her butt was in those tight jeans. B.J. didn't think in those terms. For the first time he wondered how a nice girl like B.J. would react to someone who had the skill to break through that reserve of hers and tap into her more primitive instincts. Jeff Cheney wouldn't have had the combination. Jonas would bet his last dollar on that.
Then he felt guilty for even having such thoughts about a girl who was like a sister to him. All this business with Sarah had him going crazy. Next he'd imagine himself lusting after their middle-aged housekeeper, Lupita. He was a sorry case, all right. B.J. would laugh her head off if she knew what he'd been thinking. She'd call him a sex maniac. Today he probably was.
At any rate, he'd run Imelda around enough, considering how the day was heating up. He gave her the carrots in his pocket, stroked her all over so she'd get used to the feel of his hands, then scratched behind her ears as he took off her bridle and turned her loose in the corral.
When he carried the tack into the barn, he was met with the sight of B.J. folded over the fender of the tractor, her butt pointed in his direction. Damn, but her fanny was inviting today. His hands tingled with the urge to cup those round cheeks and give them a friendly squeeze. She would have a heart attack if he did, though.
As he approached, he could hear her swearing. She was also breathing hard while she wrestled with whatever was wrong with the tractor's innards. Once again, his preoccupation with sex got the best of him and he imagined B.J. breathing like that in the midst of a wild bout of lovemaking. She sounded a lot like Sarah, come to think of it. That wasn't surprising. Heavy breathing was heavy breathing, after all.
But this was a woman fixing a tractor, not one approaching orgasm. He needed to get his mind back on track. "Need s
ome help?" he asked.
She lifted her head quickly and cracked it on the tractor's raised hood. "Damn it!"
"I'm sorry." He looped the long-lines and bridle over a nearby hook and started toward her. He knew what a bump on the back of the head felt like. His head was still sore from whacking it on the roof of the cave yesterday. "Here, let me rub it to keep it from swelling."
"That's okay. I've got it." She scrambled off the milking stool she'd been standing on and lifted a hand to the back of her head.
"Wait, you'll get grease in your hair."
She lowered her hand. "It doesn't really hurt, anyway."
"Still, let me rub it." He cupped the back of her head and stroked gently with his fingers. "There?"
"Yeah."
Her hair was silky against his massaging fingers. Sarah's hair felt like this, but it was chocolate-brown, she'd said. B.J.'s hair reminded him of sunshine. This morning it was curling in little wisps around her face and even her braid didn't look very solid, as if she'd fixed it in a hurry. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her hair down. Ten years, at least.
She had a smudge of grease on her cheek and he had to stop himself from rubbing it off with his thumb. Or maybe he liked her better with the grease. Typical B.J. – freckles sprinkled over the bridge of her nose, her eyes fringed with pale, thick lashes, her mouth naturally pink, and engine grease on her cheek.
She looked up at him warily. "I thought you were outside."
"I finished. But I'm sorry I didn't sing out when I came in the barn." He'd been too preoccupied by her backside to remember to do that.
"I'll live."
He grinned at her as he continued to massage her head. "I sure hope so. Otherwise I'll have to fix that tractor." Something seemed different about B.J. today, but he couldn't figure out what it was. He'd looked into those blue eyes at least a million times over the years, but he didn't remember ever truly looking into them. This morning he was surprised to be doing that. And enjoying it.
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