"Is that your neighbor over there, Ellie?" she asked.
Ellie glanced over her shoulder and turned back around with an elevated nose. "Yes. I have no privacy on my front porch anymore."
"Since when do you need privacy to drink scotch?"
"Nicky said he's pretty taken with her," Roanne chimed in. "His name is Reed Humfrey. He sits on his front porch when you do, huh?"
"He's only after one thing."
Seeing Roanne's struggle to contain her mirth, Utah almost joined her.
"Maybe he just wants to drink with you," Roanne said.
"Nicky said he's got quite a green thumb."
"He can't grow a daisy to save his life."
All her ruffled feathers only convinced Utah that she was attracted to the man. "Go easy on him, Ellie. He might need time to adjust to the altitude."
"The only adjusting he needs is in his pants."
It couldn't be that bad. Ellie was just being feisty. "Did something happen? What did he do that has you so upset?"
"I can't go outside anymore without him tossing sweet nothings over the fence. He's even started drinking on his front porch."
Match made in heaven. "What does he say?"
"That's a nice dress you have on today, Ellie. That hat makes your blue eyes glow...then a few days ago he asked if I'd join him for dinner at Angler's."
"Oh, that's so romantic!" Roanne said with a dreamy smile.
"Why didn't you tell me about him?"
Ellie stabbed an olive from a vegetable tray and ate it. "Nothing to tell."
"You should go out with him. Harry would want you to be happy."
She humphed but the way she stabbed another olive and the furtive glance toward Reed said she wasn't completely turned off.
"You're scared," Utah said.
"Nonsense. Stop your exaggerating." She drank from her cup, a slight tremble to her hand.
"It's okay, Ellie. Once you get to know him, you might enjoy his company."
Ellie waved her hands, still avoiding her, and now Reed as well.
"Leave her alone, Utah. Nicky says her dad isn't giving up any time soon," Roanne said.
Affection floated into Utah's smile. How nice it would be to see her neighbor find happiness again.
"What the hell is he doing here?" Roanne asked, and Utah turned to see Charlie step onto the deck.
The sound in Roanne's voice so mirrored her reaction to Mason's appearance, she had to send her friend an unsympathetic smirk.
"Aren't we a trio today," she said.
Ellie grumbled something unintelligible and ambled off, sunlight from a clear blue sky bright on her straw hat.
"Great. Here he comes," Roanne said.
"Utah," Charlie said. Then slowly he turned to Roanne. "Ro."
"Hey Charlie."
"I'll let you two talk." Utah left them standing there looking at each other.
She headed for the horse trough in the shade of an aspen tree that Roanne had filled with ice and beverages. After digging through pop and water, she found a light beer. Someone else came to the trough beside her.
Mason.
Twisting off her beer cap, she watched him dig out a 90 Schilling. He leaned to pick up a bottle opener on a small iron table. After popping the top off, he took a drink.
She fell into the sight of his impossibly green eyes, glowing in the bright sunlight. Stubble shadowed his weathered but still youthful skin. She took it all in. The column of his throat. Broad shoulders, muscled and tanned arms. That messy, thick hair that was soft to touch.
The air may as well crackle between them.
Meeting his eyes again, she noticed they'd hardened with effort to restrain the attraction brewing between them. She took a step backward, rubbing the back of her neck while she struggled to come up with an excuse to leave him standing here.
"Harvey's going to carve a mule for the festival," he said.
Thank goodness he kept it light. "If he doesn't burn it first."
"Said he burned a cougar last night."
Utah smiled. "I hope he wins the contest after all the work he's invested."
"He'll have a hard time beating Carl."
Carl was Annie's husband, the furniture maker. She nodded. "Do you know what he's making?"
"A buffalo."
Utah winced. "I'm not sure if Harvey's mule will measure up."
"He said he's going to display it with a miner's cart."
"That will make it more interesting." She saw Roanne and Charlie had moved to some chairs on the far side of the lawn, immersed in serious conversation.
"Not as big as a buffalo, though."
"Size isn't everything."
His emerging grin made her realize what she said.
"I didn't mean it like that."
He chuckled. "I know what you meant, angel."
That word coming warm and raspy off his tongue gave her insides a flutter that pooled into something deeper when he continued to look at her. His eyes communicated affection and more. Desire. Deep, building desire. And hadn't they proved how dangerous that was for them?
"Where's your dad?" she asked.
"He wasn't feeling well. Fighting a cold or something. Keegan is back in town. He might show up."
"What?" That would be a disaster! "What's he doing back in town?"
"Why do you think?"
Utah glanced over at Roanne and Charlie trying to patch up the damage already done. "That could be bad."
"Or the best thing that ever happened to both of them."
He did have a point.
"It's hard to walk away from something that good."
He was talking about sex. She looked down at her feet, red polish showing beyond the straps of the flat sandals she wore.
"I know, because I'm having the same problem," Mason said.
She looked up at him. That was the closest he'd ever come to saying he might not be able to leave. It flustered her.
"Did you...did you drive your Mustang here?" She sounded as awkward as she felt. Babbling was better than acknowledging what his declaration had done to her.
"Yeah." He stepped forward. "You want to go for a ride?"
She shook her head, moving back as he advanced. "No. I didn't mean...I was just...asking."
Her back came against the trunk of an aspen tree. He stopped close to her, his eyes taking in her face and chest before settling his gaze with hers. She gripped her bottle of beer tighter.
"Let's go to your place."
The shock of what he said made her stiffen. "What?"
"I think we should just get it out of our systems."
"Get what out of our systems?" She still couldn't get her mind around what he wanted.
"I'm tired of fighting it, Utah. That's why I'm here."
"I'm not." She started to move around him but he stepped forward and put one hand on the trunk above her head. Thankfully his other hand still held the 90 Schilling. She looked up into passion building to a powerful threshold in his eyes. It captured her.
She closed her eyes briefly. She all but throbbed for him. "No, Mason. You have to stop doing this."
"I can't."
"I'm not going to be able to resist this much longer."
"Neither am I."
The urge to give in to her feelings frightened her. She grappled for control. The cost to her heart would be too great. "This is crazy."
"Maybe all we need to do is prove this is different than when we were younger."
It would be different all right. A lot more meaningful. To her. To him? She shuddered to wonder if it would mean anything at all. "No, Mason."
"I know you want it as much I do."
"You're starting to sound like a seventies bodice ripper."
"Can you deny it?"
She couldn't, so she didn't say anything.
He leaned so his mouth was next to her ear. "I want to be inside you."
Oh, God. "What about the end of summer?" She couldn't stand to see him leave ag
ain.
"Whatever happens, happens. I'm ready for whatever that is."
It wasn't a commitment, but it wasn't a rejection, either. He wasn't saying he'd stay if something meaningful developed between them, but he wasn't saying he'd leave. He was being honest. Falling deeper and deeper into temptation, she caught herself seriously considering meeting him at her house. Right now. In the middle of the afternoon. With most of Timberline present to see them leave.
Picturing them naked on her bed, all the covers kicked off the mattress, the balcony door open to let a breeze brush over their moving bodies, an ache burst and spread in her. Mason's eyes darkened with passion as he watched her.
"I have to go to the bathroom." She ducked under his arm and hurried inside.
In the bathroom, she turned on the cold water and leaned over the sink, trying to convince herself not to do something stupid. She cupped some water and splashed her face. Raising her eyes, she saw her reflection. No wonder Mason had reacted the way he had. Flushed and breathing faster than normal, her eyes were dazed with passion. Drugged with it.
Oh, she had to get a grip on this.
A knock on the door made her flinch.
"Utah."
His voice sent her heart flying.
Turning off the water, she dried her face and stared at the door. She should not open it.
"Open the door."
Tossing the towel onto the counter, she put her hands on each side of her warm face. He strummed her body with only the sound of his voice. The wanting was too much. She lowered her hands and reached for the knob, turning, unlocking the door.
Mason pushed it open and came inside, his face a chiseled sculpture of out-of-control lust. She loved it. He shut the door behind him and stepped toward to her. He hooked her waist with his arm and fisted some of her hair, pulling her head back. A moment of awe washed over her with the sight of his raging passion. She moaned just before he crushed his mouth to hers. She slid her arms around his neck, arching her body to feel more of him against her.
He lifted and turned her. Her back came against the bathroom door. Kissing him wasn't enough. Just like before. She wanted more of him, to feel him in every cell of her body. She strained with him, against his mouth, his tongue. Their breathing sounded harsh in the small space of the bathroom.
He slid one hand down the curve of her side, over her hip, down her leg, lifting her knee and fitting himself between her legs. His jean pants came against the jean material of her shorts. She anchored her leg on his hip while his hand ran up her leg. He devoured her with his mouth. His fingers slid under the hem of her shorts. Higher, grazing her damp underwear.
His fingers slid inside her underwear and he touched her bareness.
"Mason," she breathed. She wanted him with mindless need.
She reached for the top button of his jeans, her fingers shaking. He pulled his hand from under her shorts and cupped her rear with both hands. Surging with his hips, the rigid length of him straining against jean material created delicious friction between her legs. She gave up on his jeans and lost herself to the rhythm of his movements.
"I want you," he rasped.
"I want you, too." So much. "Now, Mason."
He swore again, rubbing harder.
"No clothes," she could barely say. He was going to make her come if he kept doing that. "Mason."
She kept saying his name as she came with explosive intensity. He caught her cries with his mouth.
"Let's go to your place," he rasped again, his lips still touching hers. "We can't do it here."
Pounding on the door made them both freeze.
"Oh-my-God." Utah pushed Mason. "I can't believe this!"
She faced the door, yanking at the doorknob.
He flattened his hand above and beside her head. "Wait."
"Mason, this can't happen," she whispered frantically, trying to keep her voice down. "I shouldn't have let you in here."
"Utah?" Ellie called from the other side of the door.
Oh, God, how much had she heard?
"I'll meet you at your place," Mason said.
"No." Yes. Oh, God, she wanted that.
He turned her to face him. "Don't do this, Utah. Let's finish at your place."
Finish. His handsome face, so ravaged by passion, nearly did her under.
"Utah Pieper, you open this door this instant!"
"Utah..." Mason's green eyes willed her powerfully to agree.
Taking deep breaths, she managed to turn away from her own raging desire and opened the door.
Ellie's eyes widened and a squeak of shock escaped her. Then her brow scrunched delicate skin into an angry frown. "Smooth your hair and fix your lip gloss!"
Mortified, Utah complied.
"And you." Ellie rounded on Mason, her aging voice cracking. "You keep your hands off her, do you hear me? You want more from Utah, you get my permission first. Is that clear?"
In the painful absence of her mother, Ellie had become her surrogate. The sentiment was as endearing as it was embarrassing.
"Crystal." Mason brushed past Utah and strode down the hall.
Utah watched him go. He didn't look back, and Utah was glad. If he had, she might have gone after him. To finish at her place.
"You're as red as a cherry," Ellie said, sounding appalled.
Couldn't she pick another fruit? If she was red, it was because Mason had made her that way, flushed with passion.
"What on Earth were you thinking?" Ellie asked.
Thinking had nothing to do with it. "He followed me."
Ellie contemplated her a moment, her anger and appall easing. "Come on, Roanne bought scotch just for me and I could sure use one right now. Let's go get some more." She started down the hall.
"Ellie, when are you going to let it go?" She walked behind her toward the back patio.
"Let what go? I don't have any hang-ups. I'm not the one who let a man in the bathroom and almost had sex."
"We would have gone to my house."
Ellie scoffed in disgust.
"I don't think you ever got over your husband's death."
Outside on the deck, Ellie faced her. "Of course I didn't. He was the love of my life."
"You need to find some other form of happiness than booze. Reed, for example."
Ellie grumbled under her breath.
"He sounds like a nice man."
"I'd rather join a bingo league."
Utah smiled and smothered a laugh. "You can join one with Reed."
"No."
"Bowling then."
"Ick."
"Golf?"
Ellie laughed her amusement.
Over her shoulder, Utah spotted Roanne arguing with Charlie. She didn't see Mason anywhere, but Keegan was standing by the beverage trough.
And Reed was walking toward Ellie.
"Now I really need a drink," the old woman said.
"You shouldn't do that at your age."
"I feel good today. Not old."
"I love you, Ellie."
"Don't get mushy on me. You just stay away from Mason. I'm wiser than you by several decades. He's no good for you the way he is."
"I know," she answered quietly.
"If he stays, that changes things."
"He won't." And depression descended on her. He'd indicated he might but she couldn't believe him. Ellie was right. She had to stay away from him. Next time, there might not be anything to stop her from letting him shave his way.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Utah came out of the market and headed for her Cruiser. The overcast sky kept the temperature on the cool side. She almost reached her car when she looked up and saw Calvin Roderick leaning against the back of her Cruiser with his arms folded. She stopped walking and stared at him, the implications of his presence in Timberline crashing in on her. He'd followed her here. Would he never leave her alone? Would she ever be able to escape the negativity of her past?
"Hello, Utah," he said.
"Why d
id you come here?"
"Just keeping track of what you do with my father's money."
"Arthur wasn't your father. He never even adopted you." She started toward the driver's door, but he stepped in her path.
"I heard you were going to build a golf course."
"Who told you that?"
"Someone who knows the truth about you like I do."
Her mind scrambled to come up with who that would be. She didn't have to think long. Megan. Gossip was one thing, but this was going too far. Megan could have put her in real danger.
"How can you sleep at night knowing you're squandering money that doesn't belong to you?" he asked.
She moved around him and opened the back door, putting the two grocery bags she held on the back seat. Closing the door she reached to open the driver's door. Calvin shoved the door shut and leaned close to the side of her head.
"I won't let you get away with it."
Utah pulled her head back, away from him, and met his eyes, hoping her anxiety wasn't showing anywhere on her face. "It's too late. I already bought the land and I hired a contractor."
Anger whitened his thin lips and blazed in his eyes. "I had to get a second mortgage because of you."
"I don't see how your bad money management translates into my problem."
"You whored your way into that inheritance."
"The judge didn't think so."
He pounded his fist on the window. "Damn you. If you think I'm going to just stand aside and let you live high and mighty off my dad's money, you're in for a big surprise."
"Arthur was never your dad," she repeated.
He raised his fisted hand. Utah cringed, shutting her eyes and turning her head, trying to get away from the blow she expected. When it didn't come, she opened her eyes and looked up at him.
"Is there a problem here?" Andy held Calvin's wrist, his strength surprising Utah.
Calvin yanked his hand away. "I was just leaving." He stepped back with narrowed eyes fueled with such hate, Utah shivered. "I won't let you build that golf course."
"There's nothing you can do to stop me," she answered.
"Are you sure?" he taunted. "This is an awfully small town."
He held her gaze imprisoned for a moment before striding away, down the isle of parked cars toward the street.
"Who was that?" Andy asked, his eyes lined with worry and anger.
This Time in Timberline Page 16