When he nipped her, she groaned, which prompted him to suckle her for a moment, his teeth beginning to blaze a path toward her center and she knew he was going to put his mouth there. Electricity danced down her veins and all the way to her toes. Sam was unable to breathe as she waited for him to finally arrive. She opened her eyes, glanced down. He stared up at her, his stunning blue eyes dark with desire. And then she saw his head begin to lower and Sam hovered on the brink of an orgasm just watching him there, knowing he was about to taste her.
Heat stroked her center.
She cried out, arched back.
He licked her again.
Yes!
She parted for him, allowed him complete access because she wanted this. Oh, how she wanted this. She hadn’t been this turned on since, well, since forever.
He kept his mouth anchored there, Sam’s hips lifting toward him, urging him on. She knew she was going to lose control, thought for an instant that she should pull him up, unzip his pants, guide him to her.
A spasm rocked her body, one so intense, so delicious she came off the bed. She opened her eyes, watched his blond head down there, saw her abdomen spasm as he brought her to the ultimate pinnacle of pleasure.
“Clint.” She sighed, so grateful, so moved by his commitment, that she reached out and gently stroked his head. “Your turn.”
He kissed her inner thigh, latched his lips onto her there. “Not yet.”
“Please?”
“Let’s not rush this,” he said, moving up her body, his hand lingering at her side.
She wasn’t inexperienced in these matters. She could seduce him as quickly as he’d seduced her. But for now she let him draw things out.
“Sam?” Gigi called.
They pulled apart. Sam reached down and swung the bedspread around her.
“You there?” Gigi called again through the door, tapping lightly.
“I’m here,” Sam said, scrambling for the covers.
“You okay?” Gigi asked.
She nearly laughed.
Was she okay?
Geez. She’d never been better. “I’m fine,” she said. “Just in bed.”
“You seen Clint?”
Sam and Clint exchanged glances. Sam had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep herself from laughing. Clint silently shushed her. “I saw him earlier,” she called.
Silence.
Sam’s cheeks flamed. She had a feeling Gigi knew exactly where Clint was.
“Well, all right,” she said through the closed doors. “If you need anything, just call. These walls are paper-thin.”
At that, Sam leaned her head back and started to laugh silently.
These walls are paper-thin.
In other words, if Clint’s in there, you two better be quiet.
“I should go,” Clint said a beat later.
“Clint, no,” she said. “We can keep things down.”
He shook his head, his blue eyes all but sparkling. “You think so?”
“Well, maybe not.”
“As much as I hate to leave,” he said, “knowing my grandmother is on the other side of the wall…. Besides, I’ve got a boatload of work to do today. Got to get ready for the roundup tomorrow.”
She smiled.
He leaned over her, kissed her tenderly. Sam’s body came alive again when she tasted herself on his lips. This man turned her on like nobody else.
“I’ll see you later,” he said.
“Yes.” She would see him. She would see him for as long as God gave her the eyes to do so.
She only hoped that would be for a long time to come.
Chapter Thirteen
Sam woke up the next morning feeling more relaxed than she had in a long, long time. She’d had a terrific day yesterday, although when she’d gone to bed last night she’d lain awake hoping Clint would come to her room. He hadn’t and so she’d reluctantly gone to sleep. But today was a new day.
And she could still see.
The embolism—that horrible E word that she refused to say out loud because then it would make it real—had not worsened.
She had a central retinal occlusion brought on by a brain embolism, in other words, a really large blood clot that was cutting off her retina’s blood supply. But despite her fears, she probably wouldn’t go suddenly blind. More likely the pressure would increase to the point that slowly, inevitably, she’d lose her sight. She’d already experienced steady shrinking of her peripheral vision. That would only continue.
But she wouldn’t think about that now. Right now what she wanted to think about was Clint.
She nestled her head into her pillow. He’d come to her room yesterday and made her moan his name and convulse with pleasure. Hopefully, he would do it again. Tonight. Someplace private.
She got up and dressed. She’d slept in later than she meant to, thanks to Clint. But the nap had left her feeling good. She’d be all smiles if not for one thing: she’d sold Coaster. The deal had been finalized yesterday afternoon.
“Let me warm up some pancakes,” Gigi said when Sam made it downstairs.
“That’s not necessary,” Sam said, helping herself to some coffee.
“Nonsense,” Gigi said, pulling out a chair. “I just need to warm them up.”
Clint’s grandmother just about forced her into a chair. Less than five minutes later, pancakes with whip cream smiley faces were set in front of her.
“Gigi, you’re too much.”
“Just trying to keep a grin on your face.” Her expression sobered. “Clint tells me you sold your horse.”
Sam nodded. “It was a great offer. I couldn’t refuse.”
Gigi studied her. “Clint said you seemed upset about it yesterday morning.”
“No, no,” Sam said quickly, picking up a fork. “Well, maybe I was at first, but it was just the shock of it.” She forced a smile. “It’s an answer to my prayers, actually, so it’s good news.”
Another long look. “Okay then. As long as it makes you happy.” She tapped the table with her finger. “Eat up.”
Sam did as asked, thinking to herself that it was true. She should be thrilled about Coaster finding a new home. With the money from Coaster’s sale, she could pay off her medical bills, maybe even have some left over and put the rest away. Her disability coverage wouldn’t pay for everything, but if she moved to a less expensive apartment, watched what she spent, she’d be okay. She’d have to move anyway, once her vision gave out. Somewhere closer to a Center for the Blind.
She clenched her hand around the fork.
She would not think about it. She would enjoy the day. “Do you know where Clint is?” she asked.
“Getting ready for the big day tomorrow,” Gigi said with a wide smile. “He’ll be busy getting gear together, choosing what horses will go, probably running to town to get last-minute items.”
“Can I help?”
Gigi shook her head. “Don’t be silly, dear. You’re our guest.”
“But you said the other day that I could,” Sam said, wagging a finger at her. “Surely there’s something I can do.”
“You can stay close to the house,” Gigi said. “We’ll be getting deliveries all day—food supplies, feed for the horses, equipment Clint might have forgotten and that he can con someone into bringing out here. You can let us know when one of those deliveries arrives. I’ll be running around today like a chicken with my head cut off.”
“Are you going along?” Sam asked, delighted.
“Of course,” she said. “I help cook. A family friend brings in a team of draft horses every year. We hook them up to a chuckwagon.”
“A chuckwagon?” Sam asked. “You mean with a canvas cover and buckboard sides?”
Gigi wiped her hands down her ever-present apron. “One and the same.”
“I’ll be darned.”
“It’s tradition. I used to ride out with the boys, not that my husband liked it. ‘Roundup’s no place for a woman,’ he used to say,” her voice low so that she s
ounded like a grumbling man. “‘Kitchen’s where women belong.’” When Gigi saw the look on her face, she quickly laughed and shook her head. “He was kidding, of course, but I forced him to put his money where his mouth was. I demanded to man the kitchen…or the chuckwagon as the case may be. Next roundup, I appointed myself cook. And if you’ve never prepared meals for a gaggle of hungry men, you’ve never done an honest day’s work. I sometimes think I should have stuck to riding.”
Sam smiled. “Well, this year you’ll have some help.”
“I look forward to it,” Gigi said. “Anyway, stay close to the house. Things will be a tad chaotic today.”
It was all Gigi would let her do. Sam tried to help out, even tried to do the dishes when they were done eating, but Gigi wouldn’t hear of it. So she stayed inside, looking out the front window and hoping Clint might come in for lunch. He didn’t, something she told herself wasn’t all that odd. They were leaving tomorrow. On the roundup.
Tomorrow.
A week from now, she’d be leaving this place, she thought. And though it seemed impossible to believe, given that she’d barely just arrived, it would feel as if she were leaving home…again.
She busied herself for the rest of the day. It was, as Gigi had said it would be, a crazy day. People were constantly in and out of the house. There was a steady stream of deliveries all afternoon.
Sam had left the house earlier—just for a little while—and she’d realized instantly why Gigi had asked her to stay inside. She’d been in the way, even only going out to visit the horses. She’d only had time to take in the camping gear in the barn aisle. A huge wagon sat outside, though what type of horse was going to pull it, she had no idea.
“Sam,” Gigi called from upstairs. “Gonna need your help. Looks like that horse van has arrived. Clint could probably use an extra pair of hands.”
Sam glanced out the window, her attention captured by a big rig coming up the driveway, its white sides glaringly bright. “No problem!” she replied, glad to be doing something at last.
It was warmer outside than it was inside, with a sky as blue as Clint’s eyes. But around the edge of that sky was an ever increasing band of darkness…her vision. Failing. It was hard to describe. Where in the middle there was blue, around the edges there was a sort of colorless gray.
Clint was coming out of the barn, instantly recognizable in his beige hat with the eagle feathers sticking out of the side. She felt a smile come to her face, recalling what it’d felt like to have his mouth cover her own…and other places.
“Sam,” he said, waving her over.
The sound of the big rig grew ever louder. Sam spied the name of a nationwide equine transportation company on the side. It looked like a rock star van, with darkened windows for the horses inside the trailer. The brakes hissed as the driver came to a stop in front of the barn.
“Looks like quite a load,” she said to Clint, wanting to go up to him, to slip into his arms. But it was the first time she’d seen him all day and suddenly she was filled with the most excruciating sense of morning-after-embarrassment.
“Oh, yeah,” he said, his eyes sweeping her up and down. And then he raised one of his blond eyebrows, his eyes twinkling as he added, “Gigi tried to get me to check on you again last night.”
Sheesh. The man could make her blush. “Why didn’t you?” she asked, glancing around. A few of the ranch hands were walking toward them, undoubtedly to help them unload horses.
He leaned toward her and said, “Believe me, I almost did, but I don’t want to rush you.”
She had to look away for a second. “You’re not rushing me.”
“Good, ’cause I’m hoping to check on you tonight.”
Only then did she admit to herself that she’d been worried he might regret what had happened. Obviously, he didn’t.
“Come on,” he said. “Here comes Gigi. I think she wants you to unload the new horse.”
She frowned. “Horse? I thought they were the draft horses for the chuckwagon or something.”
Clint shook his head. “Not this load,” he said. “This is a horse Gigi bought. Told me about it this morning. I think you’ll like him.”
The driver of the van was walking toward them. “What kind of horse is it?” she asked.
“You’ll see.”
“You Clint McAlister?” the driver asked, a heavyset man who looked as though he spent a lot of time behind the wheel.
“I am.”
“Got your new horse here.”
Clint took the clipboard the man offered, and the pen, signing his name with a flourish. Another guy was pulling a ramp out from the middle of the trailer. By now, Sam was dying of curiosity.
“Is it a horse for Gigi to ride?” she asked.
“Nope. It’s some fancy show horse,” Clint said. “Gigi saw an ad on the Internet and fell in love. Bought the horse yesterday morning, although she just told about it last night…after you went to bed.”
And Sam knew. She turned toward the van. The door above the ramp opened.
“No,” she said softly. They couldn’t have.
But once the door opened, she was able to see the front end of the animal inside…a familiar black head, ears pricked forward, nostrils flaring.
“Oh, God.”
“Happy birthday, Sam,” Clint said gently.
“No,” she said, clasping her cheeks. “No, no, no…you didn’t.”
“Didn’t what?” Gigi asked. “Buy myself a show horse? I sure did. Heard he was a real nice one, too.”
She couldn’t see, but not because her eyes had given out, but because tears clouded her vision. The man inside the trailer opened a door holding Coaster in a tiny stall, unclipped him from his cross-ties, and in the next instant Sam knew they had, indeed, brought her horse to her.
“Wire transfer went through this morning,” Gigi said, a huge smile on her face. “But you’re to consider the money we paid for him a loan. You can pay us back a little at a time, or not at all, up to you. But he’s still yours. If you want him.”
“If I want him.” She didn’t know what to say, what to do. Did she run forward and take the lead of her horse, wrap her arms around Coaster and tell him how much she missed him? Or did she turn to the people who’d given him back to her. The heavenly, wonderful people who she’d met just days ago, but had taken her into their hearts.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” she told Gigi because if she looked at Clint, she’d break down. “I just have no clue what to say.” To hell with it. She let the tears come, falling into Gigi’s arms without conscious thought.
“We thought you could use a break,” Gigi said, her own voice sounding suspiciously thick. “You’ve had such a hard time of it.”
Sam drew back. “But twenty thousand dollars!”
“Shh,” Gigi said. “We can afford it. Or should I say, Clint can afford it.”
Sam glanced at Clint…and the man who’d brought her to such amazing heights, but who’d made her heart sing in an altogether different way this afternoon. “Clint?” she said. “Did you buy him for me?”
“Well,” Clint said, lifting his hat and running a hand through his hair. “It was Gigi’s idea, but it was the ranch that bought him and so I had to sign the check—so to speak. We did a wire transfer this morning.”
“You mean you knew about this the whole time?”
“No,” he said quickly. “Gigi admitted what she’d done after I told her how upset you were. She begged me not to tell you last night.”
“I hope you don’t mind,” Gigi said. “I wanted to surprise you.”
Mind? How could she mind?
“It took a lot of work on your broker’s part to get Coaster here by this afternoon,” Clint said. “And I don’t know if you should be happy or horrified that he took us at our word that we were good for the money…poor horse was on a van all night.”
“You might want to turn him loose in the arena,” Gigi said. “Let him stretch out a bit.�
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Sam stared between two of the most amazing people she’d ever met. “How can I ever repay you?” she asked, wiping at her cheeks. “I mean, how can I ever—”
“Shh,” Gigi said a second time. “We know you’ll do your best to pay us back. But if you decide it’s too much work to pay us back, we’ll make other arrangements. We just didn’t want you to have to lose your horse. Not after everything you’ve already been through.”
She felt tears burn her eyes again. “You two…”
“Like I said,” Clint told her, “It was Gigi’s idea.”
Sam went to Gigi and gave her a hug.
“But it was Clint’s money,” Gigi said when she stepped back.
Sam faced the man she barely knew, yet who already held a special place in her heart. “Thank you,” she said, moving into his arms.
He hugged her tight, as he said softly, “Don’t thank me just yet. You haven’t heard how I expect you to pay me back.”
Sam leaned away from him. “Oh, I have a fair idea what you’ll want me to do…and I’ll be only too happy to provide.”
“Will you now?”
“Tonight.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Chapter Fourteen
Clint wasn’t going to force himself on Sam—and that’s what it would feel like he was doing if he let her make good on her promise. Besides, he thought as he watched her throw her arms around her horse, and bury her nose in his neck. They had all the time in the world.
It was a jubilant Gigi who watched Sam take Coaster’s lead. The whole damn ranch had come to a standstill.
“That’s a big horse,” Elliot said. The stooped old cowboy stroked her chin as if contemplating just how difficult it might be to mount such an animal.
“Shee-uut,” Dean said. “That ain’t a horse. That’s a giraffe.”
Clint had to agree. It was hard to believe that the short and stocky quarter horse could come in such a large package.
Sam clucked, steering the horse toward him, her smile as big as the sky above them. “This,” she said with a wave of her hand toward the crowd at large, “is Coaster.”
“He’s beautiful, Sam,” Gigi said.
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