Ainsley focused on the woman. “Can I help you?”
“We’re meeting Mr. Collier.”
“I’m sorry, he’s not here right now.”
The frown that puckered the blonde’s lips didn’t even budge the smooth plane of her forehead. “But we have an appointment to view the farm.”
Suddenly the pieces all fell into place. She should have realized immediately. Ainsley turned her gaze to the Kincaids and smiled. If someone had to purchase the property they were as good as any. She knew they could handle the orchard, would probably keep their workers on and wouldn’t mind if Ainsley wanted to stop by and visit every now and then.
The question, though, was where was Luke? It was totally out of character for him to miss something like this. While he hadn’t needed to use his phone often since he’d been here, she’d heard his BlackBerry calendar beep at him off and on, reminding him of responsibilities back home that he would miss.
He had the technology and wasn’t afraid to use it to keep his schedule in line. And even if he ultimately ignored the reminder, he always glanced at the screen to make sure it was something he could dismiss.
She had two choices. Tell them they’d need to reschedule, or conduct the walk-through herself. She was probably the best person to show them around anyway. Luke was still learning the finer details of running the orchard.
Joining the trio on the porch, Ainsley did what her conscience dictated. “I’ll tell you what, why don’t I show you around? Luke’s probably just running later in town than he expected.”
The experience was bittersweet. On one hand, she enjoyed showing off what they’d built here, especially to fellow farmers who would appreciate the changes and upgrades they’d made. But on the other hand, she was showing what had become her home to someone else who wanted to own it. The orchard was a piece of her life that she wasn’t ready to give up. Admitting that was difficult because there was nothing she could do to change the situation.
She’d always tackled problems head-on. This was one that had no visible solution. She didn’t like the loss of control.
“We’ve upgraded a lot of the equipment over the past few years. Most everything is current. We have six employees on staff year-round and of course we hire seasonal workers for thinning and picking.”
Mr. Kincaid stopped at the packing shed and watched as they prepared the harvest for shipment to the client. She could tell as he inspected their equipment, the procedures and their workers, that he knew what he was doing. But then she’d already known that.
He asked her several questions, including some about the current staff. “Have you asked them if they’re willing to stay?”
She looked at him and knew that she had to be completely honest. “Until I opened the door, I didn’t realize who the interested buyers were, Fred. If I’d known I might have asked, but I’m not involved in the actual sale.”
The pity that crossed his face almost made her angry. “I’m sorry this is happening, Ainsley. Everyone wishes Brian had left the farm to you.”
In everything that had happened, in all the times she’d wished things could be different, owning the orchard had never been her desire. “I don’t, Fred, but I appreciate the thought. The farm belongs with a Collier, and I’m not part of the family.”
“The hell you aren’t.”
She’d never heard the other man, soft-spoken and particular, use that kind of language before. He was a throwback to a generation where men simply didn’t swear in the presence of a lady.
She smiled, and said, “Thanks. But this is the way things needed to be. If you buy, I’ll be glad to know the farm’s in good hands.”
“Could I convince you to stay on?”
It was a possibility she hadn’t even considered. However, it didn’t take her long to know what her answer would be. “Thank you, but no. It’s time for me to move on, too.” There were too many memories here.
She couldn’t stay. Not this time. Not without Luke.
They finished their tour back at the front porch of the house. She offered them a glass of lemonade but they declined. They’d already seen the house many times over the years, and didn’t really care about the home anyway. The Kincaids were interested in the trees.
Ainsley waved goodbye as they drove away.
Luke’s red Jag, the shiny paint dulled by a thin coat of dust, sat in the driveway again. Wherever he’d gone, he was now back.
And he hadn’t bothered to come and find her.
A frown playing around her lips, she turned into the house to find him but got only as far as the study. She could hear him behind the closed door, the timbre of his voice and the escalating tightness of his tone suggesting that whomever he was talking to, Luke was not happy.
She thought about interrupting him for a second but changed her mind when his words blasted through the door.
“Damn it!”
She backed away, deciding there was plenty of time to tell him that he’d missed a meeting with a potential buyer. It sounded as if he had enough problems to deal with for now.
He finally appeared in the kitchen just as they were finishing dinner preparations; his pinched face and shuttered eyes confirmed her suspicions. Half of her wanted to ask, wanted to offer him an ear for whatever the problem was. The other half secretly hoped it had something to do with the sale of the orchard.
However, she wasn’t holding her breath.
She settled for “Is everything okay?”
He glanced at her for the first time since he’d entered the room and it was amazing. She watched as the gathering cloud of his frustration and anger melted away, like sugar into hot water.
He crossed to her, laid his palm against the small of her back and leaned down to press his lips to hers in a soft kiss.
She was startled and a little embarrassed—Gran sat not three feet away at the table. Luke pulled back, looking down into her face with the same sweet smile on his lips and said, “Fine now.”
Ainsley’s heart kicked beneath her ribs.
Turning back to the simmering pot on the stove, she smiled over her shoulder at him. “Glad I could help.” But beneath the surface, countless emotions bubbled just as fiercely as the food she was cooking.
He was sending her mixed signals and she did not have the experience to handle them. Not from Luke.
She glanced at Gran to gauge her reaction. But the older woman seemed to be unaware of what was happening right in front of her, her eyes focused on something only she could see.
“Oh, the Kincaids and your Realtor stopped by this afternoon to tour the orchard.”
“What?” Luke stopped halfway to sitting down in his seat at the table. If she hadn’t been so surprised at the shocked expression on his face, the way his body was half-folded in on itself, suspended in midair, might have been humorous. Her stomach tightened with apprehension instead.
“They said they had an appointment with you today. You were in town so I showed them around.”
Storm clouds gathered in his eyes once again, turning the bright green to a tumultuous green-gray. He dropped into the waiting chair, the wood rocking back with the force of his descent.
“Damn it,” he muttered, sounding more irritated than outraged this time.
“Thanks for covering for me. Her message must have gotten lost in the shuffle. At least I hope that’s what happened.” His hands bracketed his face, his fingers massaging from his temples to the bridge of his nose. He folded his hands over his face, but his muffled words were still audible. “Ever have one of those days? Nothing seems to be going right.”
She resisted the urge to reach for him, to lay her hand across his and tell him everything would be okay. Instead she offered him a chance to share the burden of his bad day. “Anything I can do to help?”
Lifting his fingers from his face, he looked at her from between his open palms. “No.”
That was it. No explanation. No thanks for the offer. Nothing else. Just a simple, concise, n
o-wiggle-room no.
She’d slept in his bed twice now. In less than a week she’d gone from being lonely to sharing her life with Luke. Again. Whether she’d planned on it or not.
They shared a house, a breakfast table and a bed. What they didn’t share was anything important. That bothered her more than she was ready to admit, because admitting it meant she wanted more from him. More from their reunion than she had any right to expect.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from wanting it anyway.
As she sat down across from Luke and watched him wolf down the food she’d prepared, Ainsley could see herself doing this every night for the rest of her life. Eight years ago, she would have been content with that. With simply being in the sphere of Luke’s world.
Now she realized there was so much more. Luke’s ability to keep pieces of himself hidden and protected scared her and mystified her at the same time. She didn’t know how to do that. She felt everything, did everything and experienced everything to the fullest degree.
While he was constantly holding back.
The fact that she was in for a huge dose of heartache went without saying. She accepted it as a done deal. But even that couldn’t convince her to experience these moments with him with anything less than the full measure of her heart and soul.
Their time together might be brief but at least she’d have some vivid memories to survive on when he was gone.
As usual, they cleared the kitchen and waited for Gran to head upstairs to her own room. It was early, around nine o’clock, but Ainsley was gratified by the way Luke grabbed her the minute his grandmother was gone. The evidence of the consuming arousal she inspired in him was comforting.
He crushed his mouth to hers, whispering, “I missed you today. I don’t like waking up alone when I expect to find you there.”
She laughed. A sound that broke directly in the center when he ran his teeth across the curve of her neck. He knew exactly where to touch her.
Was that a good or a bad thing? She wasn’t certain. She supposed it depended on whether or not his knowledge of her body’s weaknesses reflected an understanding of her emotional weaknesses. And whether or not he could exploit the widening chinks in her armor to hurt her again.
He reached for her, his eyes smoldering. She could see the consuming desire there and realized if she didn’t get him someplace private they were going to end up having sex on the kitchen table.
There were so many reasons that was a bad idea, starting with his grandmother.
Stiffening her elbows she pushed him back, a half smile curving her lips. “Not here.”
His eyes narrowed as he studied her for several seconds. She had no doubt he was gauging her resolve and calculating whether or not he could sway her to his way of thinking. Apparently, deciding he couldn’t, he swept her up into his arms and crushed her against his chest. A startled squeal burst from her lips and her hands grabbed tight to his shoulders.
He strode through the house, stopping long enough for her to reach across his body to flip off the kitchen light. Darkness surrounded them as he made his way to her office.
“You really have to stop doing this.”
“Doing what?”
“Carrying me around.” What was this, two, no three times? She couldn’t keep the happiness that tinged her words from coming through.
“Maybe I like it.”
She reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head, and popped open the fastening to her front-clasp bra quickly after. She’d worn it today wondering if the easy access would come in handy. It had.
His steps faltered as his gaze refocused on her bared breasts. A seductive smile tugged at her lips.
She felt powerful. Sexy. Feminine. Only he had ever made her feel that way.
He reached back with a foot and kicked the door closed behind them. Walking the small pathway to the desk, he plopped her rear onto the pile of papers sitting there.
She opened her mouth to protest—some of these were pretty darn important—but he cut her off.
“I’m not taking my hands off you long enough to lock that damn door. If Gran comes in here without knocking then she deserves to get an eyeful.”
His mouth latched onto her neck and her body arched up into the moist heat of his kiss. His hands brushed down her skin, cupping the swell of her breasts. The heat of him seeped into her, puckering her nipples to tight buds. His palms circled over them in a teasing gesture that wasn’t nearly enough pressure for what she wanted.
“That wasn’t what I was going to say.” Her words stuttered as he bent to dip his tongue beneath the shield of his fingers.
“Oh?”
She rocked back onto her hips, deliberately rustling the papers beneath her.
He glanced at the papers. “Well, there wasn’t a lot of choice given the lack of open space in here.” His teeth grazed over the tendon from the curve of her shoulder up to her throat. A shiver of longing shook down her spine.
“Luke.”
With a sigh of frustration, he pulled back from her, reaching for the computer monitor sitting on the corner of the desk.
But he wasn’t reaching to move it, in fact the flat of his palm connected with the side of the casing as if he was ready to shove it off the desk and shatter it into a million pieces.
“Don’t you dare!”
“I’ll buy you a new one. The thing is practically a dinosaur. It needs to be put out of its misery.”
“You do that and the only thing you’ll be touching tonight is broken glass.”
He laughed, a sound that settled somewhere in the center of her chest, spreading and warming her from the inside out.
“Fine.”
She expected him to grasp her hand and drag her from the room to another private place. Instead, he took a step back, reaching for the hem of his shirt as he did. It was over his head and swinging from the corner of a crate in seconds. Fishing a condom from his pocket, he laid it on the desk, the heat and scent of him drifting over her as he came close once more. She wanted to reach for him but didn’t…she was more intrigued right now with what he might do next.
His fingers worked the fly of his jeans. The rasp of the zipper sent a flood of anticipation pouring down her spine. His jeans dropped to the floor and he kicked them away, the denim making a loud thwack when they connected with the underside of her desk.
The view she would get when he had to crawl back under there to retrieve them was going to be sensational. She almost asked him to turn around so she could get a preview, but decided some things were worth the wait.
He stood before her, beautiful. Well made and perfectly masculine.
His hands bracketing her rib cage, Luke lifted her from the desk, setting her down on the floor before him. “Your turn.”
His eyes stayed on her…waiting. She watched the rise and fall of his chest, the rapid pulse at the base of his throat, clear signs of his anticipation and arousal. If she’d needed anything other than his enticing erection.
He kept moving away until the backs of his knees collided with the seat of her office chair and he collapsed onto the waiting cushion. His eyes were level with the low waist of her shorts, the perfect height for what she had yet to reveal.
It was her turn to slowly work the zipper, to peel back each layer of cloth that covered her sex, that kept her from him. She was the one doing the opening but his eyes said he was the one receiving the present.
With a roll of her hips, she pushed the clinging material, shorts and panties, until they slid silently down her legs. Lifting one foot out of the pool of cloth, she spread her legs wide, showing him everything.
In a burst of movement, Luke shot the chair across the floor. His arms wrapped around her body, crushing her to him. He buried his face in the naked expanse of her stomach. She felt the tickle of his breath cross her skin as he exhaled slowly. His tongue followed, a warm, wet caress that swirled at the curves of her belly button.
He pus
hed her backward, keeping her hips prisoner with one arm even as he urged her off balance. She had nowhere to go except against the unforgiving desk. Papers spilled over as her hands wrapped around the edges, grasping for something to anchor her to reality.
She no longer cared about making a mess. She’d have plenty of time to sort it out tomorrow.
Her arched back thrust her hips forward and opened her body to him. She was standing and he was practically prostrate at her feet, yet she felt the prisoner here, held to this spot by the promise in his gaze as he looked up from the open V of her thighs.
She was afraid her own eyes held a desperation she really didn’t want to admit to. But he left her no choice. This she couldn’t hide from him. She was an ache that only he could soothe.
His mouth curved up into a wicked grin right before it touched down on the lips of her sex. She could smell her own arousal, heady and thick between them. His tongue darted out, warm and wet. He speared close to the heat of her but didn’t go nearly far enough to satisfy.
He used the moist heat of his breath to tease as he pulled back. Her body contracted on the need for his touch, and a shudder passed through her.
Luke came back for more, this time running his tongue from the base of her sex to the very top. Her body bowed up and her eyes slid shut when he hit the sweet spot, flicking her clit with the tip of his tongue.
He spread her wider and went in for more. A growl of satisfaction vibrated through the back of his throat and into her. She could feel it through the conductor of his tongue as he thrust it deep inside.
There was no gentle nibbling, no teasing, no polite foray. They were both too far gone for that. He laved her with the flat of his tongue, as if he could take in all of her with this one act…this one caress.
She writhed beneath him, caught between the edge of pleasure and the awareness that it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. She wanted more….
He slipped a finger inside her, pulling a gasp from deep in her chest.
She couldn’t help watching him as he knelt at her feet. The expression on his face—one of complete enthrallment—was as arousing as his touch.
She watched as the tip of his tongue found her clit again, and a jolt of pleasure shot through her core. Somewhere in the back of her cloudy mind she heard the squeak of the chair as it rolled closer and the soles of her feet were propped against the back. Her fingers fisted around the desk, holding tight to the only thing keeping her anchored.
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