Defending Hearts

by Shannon Stacey

  She considered that, tilting her head. “Like what?”

  “Anything. Pumpkins. Football. Cookies. Wait. Not cookies. We can talk about what incredible willpower I must have to stand here and eat grapes while you stuff your face with homemade baked goods.”

  “I’m not stuffing my face,” she said right before she stuffed the rest of the cookie into her mouth.

  There were a lot of words Alex would use to describe Gretchen. Strong. Beautiful. Striking. Dedicated. Loyal. Hardworking. But standing there in the kitchen in her silly cow pajama pants and a tank top, with cookie crumbs at the corners of her mouth, she was just plain cute as hell.

  She gulped down some milk and then frowned at him. “You’re staring at me.”

  “Because you’re cute.”

  “Cute?”

  “And you have cookie crumbs on your mouth.” He popped the last grape into his mouth while she grabbed a napkin. “Grapes don’t have that problem.”

  “They also don’t have chocolate chips.”

  “Now you’re just being mean.”

  She tossed the napkin in the trash and rinsed her cup before setting it in the bottom of the sink. “Better mean than cute.”

  “What’s the matter with cute?”

  She shrugged, tapping her fingers on the counter. “I don’t know. I don’t think anybody’s ever called me cute before. Jen’s the cute one.”

  “You’re all attractive women, but I definitely think you’re the cute one.” He put his hand over hers to stop the tapping, curling his fingers around hers. “I love your hands.”

  “Got a thing for calluses and stubby fingernails, do you?”

  He ran his thumb over her knuckles. “You have strong, capable hands, but with long and slender fingers.”

  “They’re just hands.”

  “Do I have to go get the camera again?”

  “I’m not hand modeling for you in the middle of the night.” When he lifted her hand and kissed the back of it, she sighed. “I mean it.”

  Then he tugged her closer, until their bodies were almost touching. “I like your mouth, too.”

  “Is it cute?”

  He smiled and let go of her hand to run his thumb over it. “It’s definitely something.”

  When he lowered his head to kiss her, she closed her eyes and leaned into him. Her hands started at his waist, but as he deepened the kiss, her palms ran over his naked back. He hadn’t been lying when he told her he loved her hands, and he loved the feel of them on his skin even more.

  He skimmed his hands over her rib cage until the curves between his thumbs and fingers were cupped under her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra under the tank top and she moaned when he brushed his thumbs lightly over her nipples.

  But when he slid one hand under the hem of the shirt and ran his fingers over the warm flesh of her stomach, he felt her tense up.

  Then she put her hands against his shoulders and gently pushed, so he lifted his head. Her expression was soft and her cheeks were flushed, but her mouth was set in a determined line.

  “We can’t do this,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “Well, for one thing, Gram’s upstairs.”

  “She’s sleeping. What’s the other thing?”

  “You rent a room from us, so there have to be boundaries. Technically, I’m your landlord.”

  “First of all, I don’t remember any laws about sex with your landlord as long as it’s not sex in lieu of rent. Secondly—and technically—Ida’s my landlord, not you. And third, I’ll throw my shit in the Jeep and go rent a motel room and then come back.”

  She laughed, and her breath was warm against his chest. “The only motel in Stewart Mills has been boarded up for a while now.”

  “Then I’ll live in my Jeep.” He wanted her that much. She sighed and took a step backward, so he took her hand.

  “I’m going to go to bed now,” she said, and he could tell she was telling herself that as much as telling him. “Turn the lights off when you go up?”

  “Yeah, I’ll turn the lights off.” She started to walk away, but he kept hold of her hand. “When you change your mind, you let me know. Immediately. No matter what I’m doing.”

  “I think you mean if I change my mind.”

  He grinned, running his fingertips over her palm as she pulled her hand free. “Whatever you say.”

  10

  “Dana and Patty are going to a big craft expo in Boston tomorrow.”

  Gretchen looked at her grandmother over the back of the horse she was brushing. Gram didn’t venture into the barn very often, so there was a reason for the visit. “That sounds like fun.”

  “It does. They invited me to go with them, actually.”

  And she must want to go, since she’d come outside to tell her now instead of waiting until dinner to bring it up. “Do you want to go?”

  Gram hesitated, and knowing why broke Gretchen’s heart. “They’re planning to stay over one night, because it’s a long drive. They’re going to stay with Dana’s cousin and take the train in, but that’s still several meals and the train cost, plus the admission.”

  “Dana’s cousin doesn’t mind taking all three of you in?” Not needing a motel room would give her some breathing room.

  “Not at all. She has a big house, but her kids are all grown now. She has it listed because they want to downsize to a condo, but until they do, she has extra room.”

  “You should go, then. It’ll be fun and you guys haven’t done anything together for a long time.”

  “I have enough money from my sweaters, but I was planning to keep that aside in case we needed it.”

  Gretchen stroked Cinnamon’s mane and walked around the front of her to the stall door. “We’re doing okay, Gram. I promise. Later on, we’ll figure out how much you’ll need and make sure you have enough. Plus some spending money because I know you’ll come home with yarn.”

  “Maybe just a little.”

  Gretchen laughed. “Yarn is how you make the sweaters. It’s like your tool. So of course you need to buy some. And the pumpkins look great. I’ve already started getting some bulk preorders from the local stores by email, so we’ll be in good shape when the tax bill comes. And we have wood. You know as long as we have heat and can pay the taxes, we’ll be just fine.”

  Gran’s face lit up. “I’m going to go call Dana back, then. And figure out what I want to wear. I’ll need comfortable shoes, but it is Boston, so I want to look nice.”

  She wandered away, still talking, and Gretchen sighed. It was good to see Gram excited about the trip, and she’d do what she had to do to make sure her grandmother had enough money to have a good time. Luckily her friends were pretty down-to-earth, so there wouldn’t be any extravagant splurges on the agenda.

  Gretchen left the stall and fastened the door behind her. She’d already brushed the other two horses and cleaned the stalls, so she was done in the barn for now. After giving Cinnamon—who had calmed down since the humidity broke a little—an extra pat, she put the brush away.

  She was still waiting for a final date from Beverly, but the Jacobsons would be sending a truck and horse trailer for the horses soon. They moved south for the cold months and did most of their riding then. But every year they brought Cinnamon and her barn mates back with them just because they couldn’t bear to be so far away from them.

  Beverly had made a few comments over the summer that made Gretchen wonder if they were considering moving to their winter home on a year-round basis, which would mean the Walkers wouldn’t be boarding the Jacobson horses anymore. That would mean a serious financial crunch, but she didn’t panic. If and when that source of income dried up, she’d find another. That was life on the farm.

  When she left the barn, blinking against the bright sun, Gretchen realized it would be Cocoa’s first night
without Gram, and wondered how the Lab would take it. She’d have to drag the dog’s bed into her room and try to settle her there, but if Cocoa got upset, it could be a long night. If she didn’t settle at all, maybe they’d go down and sleep on the couch, since they’d napped together before and at least that would be a little familiar to Cocoa.

  Or maybe she’d sneak her into Alex’s room and close the door, she thought with a grin. A whining Cocoa would be good payback for all the sleep Gretchen had lost after that second kiss.

  Halfway across the yard, Gretchen stopped walking. She’d been so focused on how Cocoa would handle Gram being away that she’d totally missed a more obvious potential pitfall of her grandmother spending the night in Boston.

  Gretchen wasn’t going to be alone in the house. She was going to be alone in the house with Alex. And, as cute as she was, Gretchen didn’t think Cocoa was going to be the most effective of chaperones should Alex decide to try for another kiss.

  But the next day, about two hours before Dana was supposed to pick her up, Gram decided to take Cocoa to Boston with her. Gretchen was pretty sure her grandmother had lost her mind.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Gretchen asked her for the umpteenth time. “She has no social skills at all.”

  “You keep telling me Cocoa’s companionship is good for me,” Ida told her. “And I told you Dana’s cousin has three golden retrievers and doesn’t mind at all if she comes. It’ll do Cocoa good to hang out with some furry friends. She can teach them all how to high-five.”

  “What about the car ride? She’ll get dog hair all over Dana’s car, and what about bathroom breaks?”

  Ida laughed. “If you think my friends and I are going to get from here to Massachusetts without pit stops, you’re crazy.”

  “I think she’d be happier staying here.”

  “She needs to learn to ride in the car,” Ida insisted. “And, like you just pointed out yourself, she needs some socialization. If we want to take her into town for parades or just to do some errands, she needs to know how to behave.”

  “What if she gets away from you?”

  “I’m not taking her around the city with me. She’s going to stay with the other dogs in a huge fenced yard while we’re at the craft show. And Dana’s cousin will be with her.”

  Gretchen slowly shook her head, knowing this argument was as good as lost. “Make sure her collar and tags are on her all the time. And you need to use the leash when you make bathroom stops. She might stay close to you here, but she could get spooked or distracted and run off.”

  “I’m not going to let her run off.” Ida looked down at Cocoa, who was thumping her tail on the ground. “You want to go on a road trip?”

  “By the time you pack her food, you won’t have any room left for yarn,” Gretchen said.

  “We’ll be fine. Come on, Cocoa. Let’s go pack you a bag.”

  Gretchen watched them go into the kitchen and then dropped onto the sofa with a sigh. She’d had some reservations about Cocoa being enough of a chaperone to keep Gretchen from doing something she might regret, but now she had no chaperone at all. All she had was her own willpower, and she was afraid that tank was about empty, with her self-control running on fumes.

  —

  Alex wasn’t surprised when Gretchen was more quiet than usual over supper. Ida had called to tell her they’d arrived and that Cocoa was having fun with her new golden retriever friends, but he knew Gretchen would worry about them both until they were safely back on the farm.

  He also wondered if she was feeling awkward about being alone in the house with him. Alex was fairly sure that was deliberate, though he wasn’t sure if Gretchen had figured out Cocoa’s social skills weren’t Ida’s sole motivation in taking the dog with her. Her good-bye to Alex had been Enjoy having the house to yourselves, followed by a wink. It didn’t take a genius to figure out she was giving him a green light. Which was weird, but she was a pretty up-front kind of woman.

  To distract Gretchen from worrying about Ida, he’d tried to get her into town for a meal, but she’d told him she needed to fix some loose wire in the chicken fencing and it was easier to get it done while Cocoa wasn’t around.

  When she’d come in from her evening chores, he’d offered to make them sandwiches and salads while she showered, which was an offer she did take him up on. So now she was sitting across the table from him, idly pushing a chunk of tomato around on her plate.

  She was too quiet, and he decided it was time to lighten the mood. “I feel like we should do something fun and naughty while your grandmother’s away.”

  She gave him a stern look, though the slight bow of her lips gave away her amusement. “You do realize I’m the strict one in the household, right?”

  “Which will make doing something naughty that much more unexpected and fun.”

  She got up and scraped her plate before setting it beside the sink. Then she leaned against the stove, crossed her arms and shrugged. “I’d suggest tipping cows, but we sold them off years ago. I don’t recommend trying to tip horses.”

  He stared at her, 99 percent sure she was messing with him, but she only stared back with an arched brow. “You’re kidding . . . right?”

  After a few more seconds, her expression relaxed and that rare grin that turned him inside out lit up her face. “Yes, I’m kidding. Well, I’m kidding about suggesting we tip cows. I’m serious about not trying to tip horses. That’s always a bad idea.”

  “I’ll make a note of that for the future.” He slid back his chair and stood to carry his plate to the sink, which put him within arm’s reach of her. “But that crosses one possibility for tonight off the list.”

  She turned toward him, her body language open and inviting. “I’m sure we can think of something.”

  The slight huskiness to her voice was the subtle invitation he was looking for. “I was thinking we could play a game of strip cribbage.”

  “I don’t think strip cribbage is a thing.”

  He shrugged. “Neither was strip poker until some poor bastard ran out of money and bet his boxers.”

  She laughed and he let the sound wash over him. He loved when she laughed, and he also loved that she did it more often now. “We could watch a movie.”

  “I fail to see how that involves stripping in any way.” He held up his hand. “You stripping, to be more exact, since you’re a smart-ass and were probably going to suggest a movie with stripping in it.”

  She crossed her arms, which made him sigh. It was like a sign—extreme stubbornness ahead. “You seem very determined to get my clothes off of me. I know these cow pajama pants are awesome, but if you go on the Internet, you can probably buy your own pair.”

  “We could race. Whoever gets on my bed first gets to watch the loser strip.”

  “What if it’s a tie?”

  Leave it to Gretchen to want to establish rules for getting naked in a hurry. “The stairs and the doorways are too narrow, so it’s not possible for it to end in a tie.”

  “You’re an athlete. You’d have to give me a head start.”

  That made him laugh. “I played football in high school. You chasing that chicken that got loose while you were fixing the fence was more running than I’ve done in years, so I should be the one who gets a head start.”

  “But I’m tired from chasing the chicken.”

  “I have this mental image of us still standing here at five o’clock tomorrow morning, arguing about the rules of this race.”

  “Go!”

  Before his mind could even process what was happening, Gretchen was halfway to the kitchen door. He took off after her, but she had long legs, and he didn’t even get close enough to try to pass her until she was almost to the stairs.

  She took the corner better than he did and gained some ground, but he took the steps two at a time and was right on her he
els when she reached the top. He passed her, but the burst of speed also gave him momentum, and he realized too late that he was wearing socks and she wasn’t.

  As they reached his doorway, he tried to turn, but his feet didn’t have traction. She cut to his inside and gave him a little shove, which put him just off balance enough to get her through the doorway first.

  But before she could leap onto the bed, he was behind her. Because of the brass footboard, she had to go around the bed, and he made his move. As she jumped, he wrapped his arms around her waist and twisted, so he fell onto his back with her on top of him.

  “Football skills,” he growled into her hair. “I played defense, so if you run, I take you down.”

  Breathless and laughing, Gretchen jabbed her elbow into him and, when he realized his hold, rolled off onto the mattress. “That was a tie.”

  “No way. My butt hit the mattress first.”

  “Because you cheated.”

  “I cheated? Maybe if you’d stayed in the kitchen and made more rules instead of yelling out go with no ready or set, I would have known what those rules were.”

  “I think we can compromise.” She propped herself on her elbow and looked down at him. “You have to strip because cheating disqualifies you, so clearly you lost. But I’ll admit the start of the race maybe wasn’t totally fair. So you have to strip, but as a penalty I should have to help you.”

  He pretended to think about that for all of about two seconds. “I can live with that.”

  —

  Once she caught her breath, Gretchen got to her feet and put out her hand to help Alex up.

  She’d spent most of the evening, including dinner, trying to figure out what she’d do if Alex made a move tonight. Waffling back and forth had almost given her a headache, so eventually she’d told herself she’d make up her mind if and when the situation arose.

  And when it did arise, she knew it was stupid to continue denying herself something she wanted so badly. So what if he was going to leave and she’d probably never hear from him again? She was going to end up missing him one way or the other, so she may as well enjoy him now.