Aimee took the glass gratefully. She was still buzzing from the emotional rollercoaster of the evening – seeing Mark nearly naked, stupidly thinking he was going to kiss her, and then the sheer, teeth-busting terror of thinking she’d been found by the police. Anything to mellow her out was welcome.
In the kitchen, John was slicing tomatoes to be served with raw mozzarella, sprinkled with olive oil and basil while beautiful filets marinated on a plate nearby.
“Now that you’re here, time to get these babies on the grill,” he announced.
Mark and John went outside and Larissa took over the salad and potato duties.
“You look lovely tonight,” Larissa said.
“Thanks.”
She slit her eyes at Aimee in a way that made her nervous. “I like you.”
Aimee laughed. “That’s a good thing. I like you too.”
“I think you’re good for him.”
“Oh. Well…. We’re not…”
Larissa chuckled softly. “He likes you hon.”
Aimee felt herself blushing again. “I don’t think so.”
“I’ve known that man for thirty-six years, and he’s never brought a woman to our home.”
Aimee blinked. “Really?”
“Absolutely. He’s a very private man. Doesn’t share a lot of his romantic life with us. So I figured you must be special.” She slid the potatoes into the oven and turned to face Aimee. “I don’t mean to put any pressure on you. I guess I’m just happy to see him seeing someone again.”
“Why is that?”
“That nastiness in D.C. really did a number on him. He wasn’t quite himself for a very long time.”
Aimee looked outside to the back deck. Mark and John were hovered over the grill, laughing at something. John had a beer in one hand and steak tongs in the other. Mark had his hands jammed into his pockets. As if feeling the wake of her stare, he turned and looked at her with a private little smile.
“The nastiness in D.C…” she repeated softly.
“He hasn’t told you about it?”
“His medical career?” Aimee asked.
“Yeah, the scandal. I think it really broke him for a while. But it looks like he’s coming out of that tailspin.”
Aimee admired the sweetness of his face and decided she didn’t want to know the details of this. Not from Larissa. She might not be long in Spanner, Montana but there were already too many secrets and lies between Mark and herself. She didn’t want more. If he wanted to tell her about the “nastiness in D.C.” she would listen. She would listen openly, with her whole heart, without judgment. But Mark would have to tell her himself.
Aimee smiled and took a sip of the wine. “So how old are your kids?”
Mark put down his fork for a moment, looking at Lauren across from him. She’d been nervous as a cat for most of the evening but she seemed to be loosened up now. She glanced up, catching his eye and smiled.
She was so pretty. So fucking beautiful. He liked the way she was polite to a fault, and the way she laughed – giggling like a happy baby, unreserved and joyful. He liked her goofy sense of humor and her expansive interests. She was a bit directionless, but she was so young, there was plenty of time for her to figure out what she wanted to do. And that was something he had in common with her, he reminded himself.
As they finished the meal, Larissa began to clear the dishes. Lauren and John rose to help her, and Mark followed. In the kitchen, Larissa rinsed the dishes. Mark heard her ask a question, then Lauren was saying, “I used to teach yoga and pilates.”
His attention sharpened.
Larissa turned and leaned forward, her eyes boring into Lauren’s. “I have a fantastic idea. You should teach a class at the store! We have a demonstration studio in the store that would be just perfect. And it would help move the merch,”
Mark could see at once that she was going to beg off – he recognized that scared look in her eye. Before she could decline, he said, “You should. That would be great. If your body is up for it.”
“I’m healed up. I just don’t think…”
“Come on,” John and Larissa said in unison. They glanced at each other, laughing that they were so in tune they completed each other’s thoughts.
Lauren looked at Mark. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”
“I think you should do it, but it is entirely your call.”
That was apparently the right thing to say because she pursed her lips prettily. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Excellent!” Larissa held up her half-full glass. “To trying new things.”
Four glasses met and clinked.
“I assume this means you’ll all be there,” Lauren said with a smug expression on her face. She grinned at Mark.
“I don’t do yoga. I’ve never done yoga…”
“Hey, we just toasted to trying new things. That doesn’t apply to just me, you know,” Lauren said.
Mark looked to John. “You in?”
“I guess,” he said reluctantly.
“Okay, I’ll go.”
Lauren squealed with pleasure, then hugged him with puppyish exuberance.
It hit him like a blow to the chest.
Too soon, she must have realized she was a little tipsy and she stepped back. She picked up her glass of dessert wine from the counter and took a sip, then glanced back at him, her eyes sparkling like green jewels. The look in her eyes knocked him for another loop. Raw hunger.
He had no choice but to stand there and take it, trying to play it off like it was no big deal when in reality his cock had stiffened to steel in his pants while excitement of another kind was bourgeoning in his chest.
“At least you guys will show up,” Lauren said. Despite her initial protest, she was obviously jazzed about the idea of teaching a class full of Montana ranch wives the tenets of mindful movement.
Larissa slit her eyes playfully. “I reckon I can corral at least twenty people eager to twist themselves into pretzels.”
Lauren smiled at Mark with that sunny, melting grin that could light up a room. He wanted to see her smile like that every day.
As Mark drove home, Lauren seemed happy. She giggled, and then looked out the window.
“What’s so funny?”
“The thought of you doing yoga.”
Mark smirked. He couldn’t picture himself doing yoga either.
“But the good news is, I don’t think I’ll teach just a straight yoga class. I think I’ll teach a hybrid, yogalates. A mix of yoga and pilates, and maybe some martial arts.”
“I like your ambition,” he said lightly.
As they drove into the garage, Mark got out and opened her door, then helped her down. They walked inside, and Mark let May out for her last pit stop for the evening then turned on the heater. “Do you need some warmer pajamas?” Mark asked. “I have some other shirts. I think I have some old sweat pants but you’ll swim in those.”
“No, the Harvard shirt is fine. I might buy some new pajamas tomorrow though; it is getting chilly.”
Mark went back outside to watch May. When they returned, Lauren was in her yoga pants and the big cable knit sweater he had given her on the first night she was here. She was in the living room, curled up on the sofa with her feet under her watching Law & Order and eating a big bowl of Carrie’s Mint Chocolate Chip.
He liked it. Liked the whole situation.
“You look cozy,” he said.
“I am. Do you want me to get you some ice cream?”
Mark picked up a brick-red chenille blanket lying over the back of a chair, and draped it over her legs.
“Thank you,” she said, smiling up into his face. “Do I look cold?”
“You look…” The word choices swirled momentarily around his head. Adorable? Perfect? Gorgeous? Made for the sofa… this house… me?
Just then, the phone rang.
“You should get that,” she said, she said. She looked nervous again.
“Should I?”
He walked to the kitchen and grabbed the phone. “Hello?”
“You motherfucker,” Shelby Sloan hissed. “I’ve been trying to reach you for fucking days and you don’t answer my voicemails or my emails.”
Mark didn’t feel anger, which was unusual for him when she got like this. Knowing there was no reasoning with a woman in this condition, he felt only a little pity, and regret that he hadn’t been paying attention to his voicemail or email; it would have prompted him to act much sooner.
“Hold on, I’ll call you right back,” Mark said, setting down the phone.
He walked past a the snugly looking Lauren to his office. He shut the door, sat at his desk, and dialed. As soon as Shelby answered, Mark said, “I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner, Shelby. I’m afraid that I have nothing to say to you anymore. It’s over between us.”
She was stunned to a rare silence.
“You’re breaking up with me?” She finally rasped.
“Yes. Totally and completely. I don’t expect we have anything left to say.”
“We were engaged. We were supposed to get married.”
“We were not engaged. We’re definitely not getting married.”
A cold silence shivered from the other end of the line. Then: “You bastard.”
“Goodbye, Shelby.” Mark hung up, feeling absolutely magnificent, like he’d just dropped a thousand pound weight off his shoulders. It made his future clearer: he would not be going back to Washington D.C. He was staying in Spanner. How strange he had waited until now to clean up the emotional effluvia of his life.
He walked back out to the living room and sat beside Lauren. “How’s the ice cream?”
“Yummy delish.” She lifted a spoon full to his lips.
He opened his mouth and took the ice cream.
“Good, right?”
“Very.”
She looked at him with that vibrating anticipation that he had seen more often in her eyes, that he had seen that night at dinner. Every male instinct clamored to lean over and lick the smudge of ice cream right off her lips, devour her luscious mouth with his own, and let his hands rove over the secret curves that had been tempting him since the first time he saw her cute butt in the shapeless hospital gown.
But before he could, she got up to wash the ice cream bowl and put it in the dishwasher.
He followed, standing by the counter while she washed her hands and then dried them on a kitchen towel.
She paused and looked at him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m great. Really terrific. We were supposed to discuss a few things tonight.”
“Yes,” she said, her voice brittle. “I wonder if we might …wait? It’s just that after tonight I’m very tired.”
He sensed she was putting him off but even that was interesting. Still, she seemed to be in a good mood now, and he didn’t want to spoil that.
Lauren smiled. “Good. I was thinking…. Since I’m going to teach a yogalates class, that’s one thing I can check off my bucket list. I’m thinking I should make it a habit. A few days ago, you mentioned teaching me to ride the horses. How about tomorrow morning?”
“If you’d like,” he replied.
“I would definitely like,” she said.
Wonderful tension grew between them, like anything could happen. Mark had the feeling they were no longer discussing horses.
“Well, I should go to bed.”
“Me too.”
She and May waited at the bottom of the stairs while he turned off the lights, then they walked up. May followed Lauren into her room, and Mark continued to his room. In the darkness, he undressed and got into bed.
He thought of Lauren, terrified beside him in the car, then later, how she was so glittery and smiley. How pretty she looked in her vintage second-hand outfit. How her slight, strong body had felt against his when she spontaneously hugged him. His body responded to the sensual memory. The urge to climax was strong, but he wouldn’t finish himself off tonight. Not with Lauren just down the hall from him.
He felt free of Shelby, free to let whatever was going to happen with Lauren unfold. The problem was that Lauren was going to leave pretty soon, and he was not willing to do anything that would make her feel pressured. She’d been through hell with Seth; she felt controlled and stymied. Mark wanted to give her the gift of freedom, the option of choice.
She was fully healed, and soon Spanner would be just a tiny waypoint on her journey west.
Whatever was going to happen, he hoped it was sooner rather than later. There was no way he could hold out indefinitely.
Nine
“You’re a natural,” Mark said, watching Lauren astride Millie, the younger – and gentler - palomino.
“I don’t know about that,” she said with a jittery little laugh. They were riding the horses on the trail along the river by the ranch, a route long enough to give the equines some exercise while not making a big deal of it, which he thought would put Lauren at ease for her first ride.
She seemed to be doing very well, her natural athleticism obvious in her graceful poise. As her horse clopped ahead of him, he admired her narrow waist and the sweet curve of her derrière perched on the leather saddle. Sweet heaven, it was surreal. This dewy-fleshed green-eyed goddess who had materialized in his barn one day had become a source of constant lust. He wasn’t sure when he started to like her so much, but for the first time in a long time, he was feeling much better overall. The bad dreams still tortured him at night, but his days were filled with calm peacefulness. Lauren made him laugh; she was goofy and natural, beautiful, and sweet.
He brought his horse abreast of hers.
“Are you excited about the yoga class?” she asked.
“Honestly no, but I’m eager to see you teach.”
“Why?”
“You said that was what you wanted to do. I’m eager to see you achieve your dream.”
Her eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Nobody has ever said that to me before.”
“That’s a damn shame.”
They sauntered through the aspen trees, along an old horse trail that led out to the range where the Darmstadt’s cattle were grazing. He kept to the flat, well- worn tracks, wanting Lauren to enjoy the experience and not be afraid of climbs or sudden tricky switchbacks.
Well before they came to the cattle, they approached an enclave where the creek widened, and the mountains loomed high overhead. “Do you want to rest for a while?” Mark asked.
“Sure, I’m thirsty,” Lauren said.
Mark dismounted, then tied the horse to a tree. Lauren was scared, not sure how to get off the horse.
Mark stood to the side, his hands up. “Swing your left leg around, and just step down.”
She awkwardly swung her left leg over but she’d let her foot come out of the stirrup so both her legs were hanging off the side of the horse. “I think I did it wrong,” she squeaked.
Laughing, Mark grabbed her by the waist and gently set her on terra firma. She looked up at him, flushed and lovely. “Thank you. As we can see I am not the most graceful horsewoman.”
“You’re learning,” he said. He tied up her horse, then grabbed two bottles of water out of the small panniers. They walked from the shade of the huge conifers to the flat meadow in front of the clear blue creek.
Lauren sat down, opened the water bottle, and took a long swallow. Placing the bottle to the side, she leaned back on her hands and lifted her face to the sun.
“How’s your ribcage?”
“Fine,” she answered dreamily, her eyes shut.
Mark lay back and shut his eyes. The last days of full summer were here; he could feel the edge of autumn in the breeze. Labor Day was just a week away, which meant if he was going to get anything done at the cabins, he had to do it fast, before the snows came.
He felt a light, spiderlike touch on his hand, and opened his eyes. Lauren was tracing the veins on the back of his hand
. He felt a peculiar electricity forming at the slight touch of her fingertip and coursing through his chest. It was almost like the onset of panic, but pleasant. Calming.
Lauren looked at him with an enigmatic and strangely sad smile on her face.
Mark didn’t dare move. He watched. She lay down beside him on her side, her head propped on her hand. She stared goggle-eyed, like she was considering something important and vexing, like he was an unfathomable quantum engineering problem. Her eyes were very green; wild as the jungle.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she whispered. She was so close, close enough to see the yellow flecks in her eyes.
He pulled her to him. She almost fell against his body.
Her soft, silky lips brushed against his, and then with a little whimper of surrender, she melded against him.
It was sweet beyond belief. Delicious and so, so sweet. He tightened his arms around her, holding her trembling body tight against the heated plank of his chest.
She was definitely a dangerous woman, a massive, no-holds barred fuck-up to his fledging equilibrium, but he didn’t care. He had to have this. Had to have her.
She crawled on top of him, straddling him. He hugged her closer. Just this felt so unbelievably good. He felt starved for the contact of his lips, her body. His mouth wanted to search out her taut curves and lick and taste her cool, smooth skin, those succulent pointy nipples, all puckered up and ready to be kissed. His hands roved down her back to her perfect little bum. Slowly she grinded against the undeniable bulge in his pants in a slow, innocent rhythm.
With a little dazed sigh, Lauren lifted her head and looked into his face. “I’m sorry, am I too….”
“You’re perfect,” Mark said, wrapping his arms around her softness, wanting all of her, all at once. He flipped her over so she was beneath him, her legs tangled with his. He kissed her then, ravenously. Her hands drifted down his sides, then wedged between their clamped, trembling bodies and fastened around his cock.
“Oh wow,” she breathed against his neck.
He groaned with mingled pleasure and agony. The tender squeezing, the curious stroking, it was all driving him crazy.
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