A Texas Soldier's Family

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  Hope wondered how much she had really put him out the last few days. Garrett acted as if charging to her rescue—continually—was nothing. She knew better. He had important decisions to make. And only so much military leave. There were also family and friends he probably wanted to spend more time with. Yet he’d remained with her and Max, even though his brother Chance had dropped a Bull Haven Ranch pickup off for him the previous morning.

  “In fact, there are some things I downright loathe.” He chuckled.

  Hope fell into step beside him. “Like...?”

  He escorted her outside. The air was warm and scented with flowers, the sky a clear light blue overhead.

  “Pickled beets. Can’t stand ’em.”

  Hope couldn’t help but laugh. “Me, either,” she murmured, as a yawning Max drowsily watched them both.

  Garrett shortened his steps as they wound their way through the parked vehicles in the emergency services lot. When they reached the car, he leaned in to help Hope get a now-asleep Max into his safety seat.

  “Well, what do you know?” Garrett observed with a tenderness that nearly stopped Hope’s breath. “He’s fast asleep.”

  Hope luxuriated in the shared emotion. It was at times like this that she missed having a daddy for Max, and a husband for herself, the most.

  “No wonder.” Deliberately, she returned her attention to her son. He looked as precious as could be, his long blond lashes resting against his cheeks, his bow-shaped lips working soundlessly. “He wore himself out...”

  Whereas she—and Garrett—both seemed to be running on adrenaline.

  Because it would be easier to talk quietly if she were seated beside Garrett, Hope climbed into the front seat of her SUV. Once again aware of how cozy and domestic this all felt, she asked, “What did your mom have to say when you texted?”

  He squared his jaw and kept his eyes on the road. “She and Adelaide are glad Max is okay.”

  Uh-huh. And what else? Feminine instinct told her that he was deliberately holding something back. “And...?”

  He hit the signal and turned left, which was, if memory served, not the way out of town toward the Circle H.

  “They need more information from the bank if they’re going to figure out where all the money went. The only way to quickly take a look at the cancelled checks, and discover where they were being deposited, is to go to the foundation’s bank in person. So they’re driving back this morning. They left as soon as they knew Max was okay.”

  Or in other words, twenty minutes ago.

  Hope settled back in her seat, not sure how she felt about that. She turned to study Garrett’s handsome profile. “When will they return?”

  “Tomorrow, at the earliest. Depends on how quickly they’re able to get all the data.”

  Aware she hadn’t checked any of her work messages since close of business the previous day—a definite mistake when in the midst of any scandal—Hope pulled out her cell phone. In work mode once again, she bit her lip. “I wonder if we should go back to Dallas, too.”

  “I texted that option while you were feeding Max, back at the hospital. Mom said she would prefer we sit tight. She will call us as soon as they discover anything. But right now her plan is to return to the ranch with Adelaide, and Paul, as soon as possible. And go from there.”

  Nodding, Hope scanned the Dallas news headlines on the internet.

  Garrett slanted her a glance. “Anything?”

  “Six more charities have come forward to say they were stiffed by the foundation. But it’s only a mention.” Hope sighed her relief that the ugly gossip was dying down. “Not the lead story.”

  “Is that good?”

  “It means public interest is waning—for now. It’ll crank back up again as soon as we learn whether the foundation is at fault or not and people begin to react to that.”

  Sighing, she put her phone back in her purse.

  “You need to eat something.” Garrett detoured into a drive-through restaurant famous for its breakfast tacos.

  He ordered two for her, three for himself, a couple of hash brown potato patties, coffee and milk.

  He handed her the bag, then headed back out on the road.

  They ate in the car, knowing that if they stopped for long Max would likely wake. Happily, Max slept for the rest of the ride back to the ranch.

  Together they eased him out of the car, into the bunkhouse and into his bed. Realizing how lucky they were that Garrett had been there to help them, and Max’s health crisis had been so easily resolved, Hope stood a moment, just drinking in the sight of her baby boy, memorizing everything about him. With his cheeks full of healthy color, one tiny fist tucked under his chin as he slept, he looked so sweet and peaceful. Emotion clogged her throat.

  She turned away and walked out of the room.

  Garrett followed her, his steps as silent and languid as his mood.

  Suddenly feeling unutterably fragile, Hope kept her back to him and said what she should have a lot earlier, “I owe you a lot for this morning. In fact, for the entire past few days...”

  She wouldn’t have been able to get any work done without him. Max was certainly better off, too, with Garrett there.

  He put a light hand on her shoulder. “Glad to help,” he told her huskily, turning her around.

  The next thing she knew, instinct was taking over. She was all the way against him, wrapped in his strong, steady warmth. His head slanted, dipped. And then there was no stopping it. Everything she felt, everything she wanted, was right there, in that moment, in his arms.

  * * *

  GARRETT HAD PROMISED himself he wouldn’t kiss Hope again or let things get out of hand. At least, not until the foundation scandal was over and he could pursue her the way he wanted to pursue her—with no holds barred.

  But the moment she turned her vulnerable green eyes to his and launched herself against him, all previous resolutions were off. She made a sexy little sound in the back of her throat as her mouth softened under his, opening to allow him deeper access.

  “What are you doing to me?” she whispered. “What are we doing to each other...?” And then her hands were coming up to cup his head. She was standing on tiptoe, pressing her body against him, tangling her tongue with his.

  Had she not surrendered so completely to the pressure of his mouth against hers, maybe it would have been a lot easier to do the gallant thing and walk away. Before things heated up even more.

  But she didn’t pull away. Nor did he.

  He felt the need pouring out of her, matching his own. Felt the barriers around her heart lower, just a little bit. Because Hope was right about one thing—whatever he was doing to her, she was doing it to him, too.

  Succumbing to the moment, he pulled her in a little closer, a little tighter, enjoying the heady rush of their adrenaline-fueled tryst, and she was right there with him, surrendering, even as she demanded more.

  He had an idea she’d regret this.

  But for now, she was all about the moment.

  And he knew this wasn’t an experience likely to come again. At least, not any time soon. So he went with it, lifting her so her legs wrapped around his waist and carrying her, still kissing, all the way to his bed.

  They tumbled down onto it. She shoved him to his back and sprawled on top of him.

  He groaned softly, thinking that he deserved a swift kick in the rear for doing this. There wasn’t a smidgen of commitment between them and Hope wasn’t anywhere near a one-night-stand woman.

  Still struggling with his conscience, Garrett lifted his head long enough to rasp, “I feel like I’m taking advantage.”

  “Don’t,” she whispered back, kissing his jaw, his cheek, his lips with wild abandon. “I’m a grown woman. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

 
Did she?

  He wondered. Yet, when she spread her hands across his chest and shoulders, caressing, molding, exploring, he couldn’t help but haul her even closer and kiss her again.

  “And I’m pretty sure...” she murmured, letting her quest drift lower to the proof of his desire “...the one taking advantage here...” she sighed with obvious delight as his body went hard and he swore, low and rough “...would be me.”

  His hands tightened on her, squeezed. She smelled so good, tasted so good, felt so good. “You’re certain this is what you want?” he gritted out.

  She looked him in the eye, confirming lustily, “What I need.”

  Well, what do you know? You’re what I need right now, too. “Okay, then,” he said with a reckless grin that matched her own. “Permission granted.”

  Emerald eyes sparkling, she unbuttoned his shirt, spread the edges wide. Admired, even as she kissed his shoulders and chest. Sensually explored her way down the goody trail to the clasp of his belt. Kissed her way back up even more slowly and decadently.

  “Not to worry.” She paused to make a thorough tour of his mouth. “We’ll apologize and forgive each other later,” she promised, her honey-blond hair sliding across his skin.

  No, he thought, we won’t.

  He wasn’t surprised she had already anticipated her next move, though.

  This was the Hope he’d first met. Dynamic. Determined to be in charge. Following a plan and focused on a goal. Which, at the moment, was making love with him while irrefutably dismissing the possibility of anything more.

  Figuring they could sort all that out later, after they’d rocked each other’s worlds, he ran a hand up the inside of her thigh. She shot to her knees, her smooth, velvety skin quivering and warming beneath his palm. Lips parted, breath erratic, she rose above him and splayed her hands across his chest, seeming to dare him to make her want him even half as much as he already yearned for her.

  Little did she know how up to the task he was. Libido roaring, he shifted her so she was beneath him. He unwrapped her with delight—first her shorts and panties, then her blouse and bra.

  She was even more beautiful than he had imagined. With soft, full breasts, a slender waist, rounded tummy and sleek, gorgeous thighs.

  Clearly appreciating his admiration, nipples tightening into hard buds of arousal, she unfastened his belt. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Captain.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He rose long enough to strip down, too.

  Her eyes moved over him, in sweet, solemn awe that sent his pulse roaring even more.

  “That,” he told her, moving back over top of her, pressing the hard ridge of his erection against her welcoming softness, “is what you do to me.”

  She drew in a halting breath, said, “Then let’s see what you can do to me.”

  Chapter Seven

  It was a challenge, Hope soon realized, Garrett was completely up for. He caught her against him, so they were flush against each other, tunneled his hands through her hair and fitted his mouth to hers, giving her a long, thorough kiss designed to shatter her resolve. Until she was no longer able or willing to put any limits whatsoever on their lovemaking.

  Excitement flooded through her. She sank into him, luxuriating in the hard length of him and the overwhelming provocativeness of his kiss.

  “Oh, my...” she whispered long minutes later, when he finally lifted his head. When had simply making out—naked—been this incredible? When had any man been this sexy and tender and kind? Or left her feeling so completely wanton and desirable?

  “My feelings exactly,” Garrett rasped. Gazing into her eyes, he cupped the side of her face with his large hand. Kissed her again—hotly, possessively—then slid down her body, stopping to caress and kiss every inch along the way—the curves of her breasts, the sensitive tips, the dip of her waist, the belly still rounded from childbirth. Lower still, to the nest of soft curls and the blossoming dampness within.

  The pressure of his mouth, coupled with the questing caress of his fingertips, sent her arching up off the bed. The rough wild rasp of his tongue, coupled with his gentle suckling, catapulted her all the way over the edge. Her cry of ecstasy had him chuckling in masculine satisfaction. His heart pounding in tandem to her own, he moved up her body. Found the condom in his wallet, and swiftly rolled it on.

  Ready to see to his own needs, he eased between her thighs, taking her in one smooth, deep stroke. The rhythmic pressure of his body and his mouth took her to new heights, making her burn and tingle and want inside. She teetered on the edge of something thrilling and wonderful, yearning for more than she had ever thought possible, as he transported her to a place where she had never been. A place that was not just sexy as all get-out, but safe and warm and oh-so immensely satisfying, too.

  It was just too bad, she thought dazedly, as they slowly stopped shuddering and returned to reality, it could never happen again.

  * * *

  GARRETT FELT THE change in Hope as soon as their breathing returned to normal. Reluctantly he disengaged their bodies and shifted his weight to the side, but did not let her go. Although this was what he had expected all along—a ready ticket to the exit—he could not say he welcomed it. He knew their situation was complicated. Complicated was more than okay when it led to results like this. He just had to convince her of that.

  “Regrets?” He kissed her temple.

  Still trembling, Hope closed her eyes and didn’t answer, preventing him once again from getting lost in her emerald-green eyes.

  Determined to ease her worries, he smoothed a hand through her silky mane. “If you’re worried about a conflict of interest—don’t be. I wouldn’t have hired you. I still wouldn’t hire you.” He chuckled. “Or any scandal manager for that matter.”

  She met his gaze. Her eyes were filled with mischief. “That’s good to know. I wouldn’t have accepted a job working for you, either.”

  That he could believe. He bent to kiss the inside of her wrist. Her elbow. Shoulder. “Then?”

  Hope rose and, sheet draped around her, perched wearily on the edge of the bed. She grabbed her clothes off the floor. Keeping her back to him, she slipped on her bra, fastened it in front. “When people see a resolution to a crisis, they feel exultant and relieved, reckless and needy.”

  He lay back on his side, watching as she slipped her arms into the sleeves of her blouse. Although the sheet obscured the lower half of her, he could well remember the lissome lines of her hips and thighs, the sweet spot in between.

  He felt himself grow hard again.

  “This has happened to you before, then?”

  Her eyes drifted lower and she caught her breath. Discreetly eased her way into her panties. Stood. “No. I’ve never been involved with a client.” She stepped into her shorts, apparently oblivious to the fact that he found it just as arousing to watch her get dressed as it had been to undress her, just minutes earlier.

  She wound her hair into a knot at the base of her neck and secured it there with one of the elastic bands she always seemed to have wrapped around her wrist whenever she was caring for Max.

  Walking into his bathroom, she bent and splashed some cold water onto her face, pausing to dry her face and look into the mirror.

  From his vantage point on the bed, he saw her stare at her flushed cheeks and passion-glazed eyes, as if seeing a stranger. Her breasts rose as she took a deep enervating breath. Then turned, all cool reserve once again, and walked back into the bedroom to join him.

  She bent and tossed him his clothes. “I’m always orchestrating the end of a crisis. I’m not involved in it.” She turned her back, wanting to continue this conversation. But clearly, he realized, not so long as he was hard and naked.

  Reluctantly, he shucked on his boxers and jeans.

  The erection he could do noth
ing about.

  When she heard the rasp of his zipper, she turned back to him. Face pale, she said, upset all over again, “But this morning, with Max suddenly in such distress—the fact we had to take him to the ER—made me realize all over again how much I love him and want to protect him.” Her eyes grew misty, her voice turned hoarse. “The idea that there might come a time I might not be able to keep him safe and healthy, really rocked me to the core.”

  He nodded, understanding.

  What would any of them do without Max?

  Without any of the people they loved in their lives?

  He’d felt the same jolt of fear and anxiety when his father had been diagnosed with a degenerative heart disease.

  Yet loss, in every life, was inevitable.

  Which was where faith came in. Faith and the people around you...

  “Which is why you turned to me,” he guessed, pulling on his shirt.

  Hope wiped away her tears before they fell. She squared her shoulders, and seemed to pull herself together, as she surveyed his chest. “Well, that and your hot bod,” she teased.

  He winked, following her easy lead. “Turned you on, did I?”

  “I admit it. You’re so different from the men I usually date. I was curious what it would be like to hit the sheets with you.”

  He came closer, aware he didn’t like the mental image of her in any other guy’s arms. “What kind of men do you usually go out with?” he asked gruffly, already wondering how to get rid of the competition.

  She tapped her index finger on her chin. “Tactful.”

  Ha-ha. “You mean wusses?”

  She shook her head. “Nonmilitary.”

  “So in other words, execs...”

  “One reporter.”

  “Your basic white-collar types.”

  “Yes.”

  The kind of guy, he figured, she could probably dominate. The kind of guy that, in the end, would bore her silly. He tilted his head and flashed her a cocky grin. “You’ve been missing out.”