The Rancher Next Door
Page 11
What kind of man walked out on his family with only a few scribbled lines of explanation? After Russell had disappeared, Jack had felt the stares, heard the questions. He’d seen people watching him, wondering how much of his father he had in him. But Katie had never done that. Around her he’d always been able to be himself. Even when they didn’t agree with each other, they’d been honest.
“Sometimes,” he said at last, “I think about him. I wonder what he’s doing or where he is. Sometimes I wonder if he’s still alive.”
“Do you want to find him?”
“No.” Jack spoke without hesitation. “Why would I want to be around a man who could do what he did?”
“Maybe he had a good reason.”
“There is no good reason. He got tired of being responsible, so he left.”
“Maybe it’s—”
He took a step toward her and shook his head. “You can’t make him innocent in all this, Katie. He left. He came back a couple of months later for a single night, got my mom pregnant, then left again. No one has heard from him since. He’s not someone I want in my life.”
She drew in a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Sunlight illuminated her face. He saw the differences he’d noticed when they’d first met in town. The refining of bone and muscles that had changed a pretty girl into a beautiful woman. Just that morning he’d been close enough to know that she still smelled as sweet as ever. A few days before he’d kissed her and had tasted her heat. They’d always cared about each other and they’d always had fire burning between them. It had been a dangerous combination when they’d been young—it was lethal now.
“Are you really mad about your dad or are you using your temper to keep me at a safe distance?” she asked.
He stared at her. “You don’t believe in polite questions, do you?”
“Why start now?” She gave him a quick smile. “If I got all nice and well-mannered you might think I’d been taken over by aliens.”
He crossed the room and sat on the cot. They were close but not touching. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs, clasping his hands together between his knees.
“What do you want from me?” he asked.
“I want to know what you’re afraid of.”
You, he thought but didn’t speak the word. He was afraid of Katie and how she made him feel. That he might believe it was all right to try again, when he knew it wasn’t. He was afraid of the past. He wanted to resist the tug of all those yesterdays, but they pulled him under. Fighting the riptide wasn’t the answer. He just got tired and ended up being sucked under anyway.
“I’ve spent the past few years trying not to feel anything,” he said, speaking the absolute truth. “I like my life. I don’t want any changes.”
“You have to feel something, otherwise you’re not alive.”
Dead didn’t sound so bad right now. Or at least numb. Anything but the heat building inside him. Just sitting next to her was enough to make his blood race and pool. Passions were usually easily controlled, or at the very least directed toward safe partners. But there was nothing safe about Katie.
He’d only been in love twice in his life. First with Katie and then with Melissa, his wife. Both women had left him. Either he was pretty easy to fall out of love with or they’d never cared in the first place. He didn’t know which and he wasn’t sure it mattered. The results were the same.
“This was my refuge,” he said, looking around the shack. “Then you were gone and I couldn’t come back here anymore.”
She put her hand on his back. “I’m sorry.”
Her touch burned, but he endured the pain because—He swore silently. Damn if he knew why. Maybe because she was Katie and hell with her was a whole lot better than heaven with anyone else.
“Don’t be sorry,” he said, staring at the ground so she couldn’t read anything in his eyes. “I was busy running the ranch.”
She sighed. “I’d forgotten. Your foreman was waiting to retire. He stayed until you graduated from high school and then moved away. Somewhere west, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah. Arizona.” Jack grimaced. Old Bill Smith had stayed on longer than he’d wanted because he believed Jack should finish high school before taking over the Darby ranch. Jack had been grateful and resentful. He’d appreciated the time and hated the responsibility.
Her fingers slipped off his back, then he felt a slight weight against his shoulder. He glanced over and saw Katie leaning her head against him.
“That’s why you were so withdrawn that last year before I left,” she said. “You were swamped with responsibilities and details. But I should have known that. I should have understood. Why was I so angry?”
“You were seventeen, Katie. You wanted a regular boyfriend. One who had the time to take you to the movies and to school dances.”
“You were only eighteen. Look at all you had to give up.”
He didn’t want to think about that. Wishing didn’t change anything.
“I’m amazed that you stayed,” she said, straightening.
He glared at her. “I wouldn’t have run off. I’m not like my father.”
She held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “I didn’t mean it that way,” she told him. “I was just thinking that while you probably love the ranch now, at eighteen it must have seemed like an unbearable burden. I know I would have wanted to take off for parts unknown.” She bit her lower lip. “And there I was, begging you to come with me.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry I was such an insensitive jerk.”
Despite the seriousness of their conversation, he couldn’t help smiling. “I called you a lot of names when you left, but insensitive jerk wasn’t one of them.”
“Want to read me the list now?”
“No.”
She leaned against the wall. “You must have hated me for running off and getting married within six months of leaving.”
“I remember questioning your commitment to me,” he said, keeping it as light as he could. He didn’t want to talk about the wrenching betrayal he’d felt when he’d found out that Katie had married someone else so fast.
“I didn’t mean to,” she said with a sigh. “I know that sounds pretty lame, but I was mad and young and I wanted to prove to the world that someone, somewhere, wanted me.”
I wanted you. But he didn’t speak those words, either.
They were silent for a moment, lost in the past. He thought about all they’d been through. He’d dreamed of leaving Lone Star Canyon, as had Katie. He’d been going to ride the rodeo and she’d been—
He shifted until he leaned against the side of the bookcase, facing her. “You were going to be a doctor,” he said, studying her pretty profile. “What happened?”
She gave him a wry smile. “I was married, pregnant, divorced and a mother before I turned twenty. It put a crimp in my educational plans.”
“Wouldn’t your family help?”
“I don’t know.” Katie tugged at her cuff. “My dad never thought much of my plans to be a doctor in the first place. He told me I wasn’t smart enough. Then when I got pregnant, he wanted me to move home. It was all I could do to keep him paying for college when I refused to come back here. I worked to support Shane and myself. I knew that medical school wasn’t going to happen in this life, but I still wanted to help people. That’s why I went into physical therapy.”
He considered her struggle. She made it sound easy, but he knew there’d been a lot of hard work and sacrifice on her part. “You’ve come a long way,” he said.
“Haven’t we both?” She smiled. “Not counting today, of course. Right now my life is a mess.”
“It’s not so bad.”
She raised her eyebrows. “My father is no longer speaking with me. In fact I don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to go back to the family ranch. I have no home, a son who has been uprooted in the middle of a school year and—” She hesitated. “Well, let’s just say I have a fe
w other issues I’m not at liberty to discuss.”
He wondered if those other issues were about a man. He told himself he didn’t care one way or the other. Bad enough to realize that being around Katie filled up parts of him he’d forgotten were empty. He was not going to get involved with her again.
“Your life is fine,” he told her. “There are a few problems with your father, but they’ll work themselves out. As for Shane, he’s adjusting. He’s making friends and doing great in school. He’s outgoing, bright and an all-around good kid.”
Her face glowed with maternal pride. “Thanks. You make me feel better. Despite everything, you still matter to me, Jack.”
He shifted until he was leaning toward her. “I’m sorry for what I said before,” he told her. “We are friends. I guess with our past we can’t help it.”
Pleasure darkened her eyes. “I really appreciate you saying that. You’ve always been important to me. If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t know how to ride a bike.” She leaned toward him and reached up to touch her finger to the scar at the corner of his mouth. “And if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have that very attractive scar.”
“Compliments of your brother.”
“Don’t say the Fitzgeralds never gave you anything.”
Her voice was low and teasing. Talking about his scar was a familiar joke between them. He told himself it didn’t mean anything. They were just old friends reminiscing.
But it didn’t feel like nothing. In fact it felt very much like something—something powerful and overwhelming. The low-level desire he’d felt since she’d first walked in the room seemed to explode inside him. He stared at her, wanting her and knowing that being with her was the biggest mistake he could make.
Her breath caught in her throat. “Jack, what are you thinking?”
“Nothing.” He turned away.
She touched his arm. “Tell me.”
He looked at her. Her lips were parted slightly, as if in invitation. She was all small and soft and dear God how was he supposed to resist Katie? Yet he had to. They couldn’t do this. Not now. Not ever.
Questions filled her eyes then, in a heartbeat, disappeared. “I know,” she whispered. “Don’t you think I want it, too?”
“We can’t,” he said hoarsely, even as he moved toward her, pulling her close.
“I’m not sure we have a choice.”
Then his mouth was on hers and he realized she was right.
Chapter Nine
P assion swept through Katie like wildfire. She told herself she was foolish for kissing Jack and that the smart move would be to pull back. In fact she intended to do just that. But the second his lips touched hers, she lost the ability to plan and be rational. She could only react to the need filling her.
He moved against her mouth, taking her with a hunger that made her breath catch in her throat. She parted for him, inviting him to taste her. When he slipped inside, she groaned low in her throat. The feel of his tongue against hers was so incredibly right. Need spiraled through her. Tension made her muscles quiver and shake. She was on fire; she was drowning. He’d always had the ability to reduce her to a puddle, and in the past eleven years, nothing had changed.
His arms came around her, hauling her close. She pressed herself against him, wanting to feel the heat and strength of him. This was like their kiss last week, yet better, because this time there weren’t going to be any interruptions. This time they could—
Her brain froze. She couldn’t actually be thinking about making love with Jack. That would be five kinds of crazy. Their relationship was complicated enough. They hadn’t worked out the details of their past, let alone figured out their present. She was living in his house with her nine-year-old son.
“Katie,” he breathed against her mouth, then settled his hands on her waist.
The pressure was familiar, and she reacted without thinking. She shifted, moving as he moved, stretching out her legs, sliding toward the wall, all the while still kissing him, tasting his familiar male essence, so sweet and tempting. She lowered herself onto the cot while he settled next to her. His leg slid between hers. Her leg came up, her knee resting on his hip. Arms slipped around each other until they were pressed together intimately, facing each other.
It was a position they’d assumed a hundred times before. Maybe even a thousand. As teenagers, they’d often lain together like this. Kissing, talking, touching noses together and laughing. Their bodies had ached with desire, his growing hard, hers damp and yielding. Yet they’d never once given in.
Jack broke the kiss and looked at her. His eyes were dark and unreadable. She didn’t know what he was thinking and she wasn’t about to ask. She could hear her heart pounding in the silence—he could probably hear it, too. Then one corner of his mouth tilted up.
“Some things never change,” he murmured. “Seems to me we’ve been in this position before.”
She swallowed and nodded, but didn’t speak. She couldn’t. She was afraid of what she would say. Part of her knew that this was insane, but that voice was small and easily ignored. The rest of her was screaming for Jack to touch her everywhere. She was practically vibrating with desire. Her blood raced; her breasts ached. She wanted to believe it was because she hadn’t made love in a long time, but she had a bad feeling that it was much more about the man lying next to her than any biological need.
“I want you,” he told her, stroking her cheek with his fingertips. “What do you want?”
He was giving her a chance to escape. She knew that she should probably take it, because making love would change everything. Yet the thought of getting up and walking away from him brought her physical pain. So she gave in to the foolish need and wrapped her arms around him, drawing him closer. Then she breathed his name.
Jack responded by shifting her onto her back and bending over her, brushing her lips with his. He moved slowly, tenderly, back and forth, driving her crazy. She clutched at him, grabbing his upper arms to urge him on. She parted her mouth. She stroked his lower lip with her tongue. He ignored her and continued his painfully slow, chaste kisses. Back and forth, back and forth.
Finally he touched the tip of his tongue to hers. She punished him by biting gently, making them both moan. Then he was kissing her deeply and she was able to lose herself in him. They explored each other, circling, tasting, learning remembered favorite games of chase and tag.
While their lips clung, he moved his hand to her belly and walked his fingers up to the first button on her shirt. Once again her heart began to hammer an increasing rhythm. She wanted him to go faster, not slower. She wanted to be naked and have him inside her, yet she wanted the moment to stretch on forever.
He moved with the sureness of a man who was comfortable undressing a woman. When he pulled open her shirt and rested his hand over her left breast, pure pleasure rippled through her. Even through the thin layer of fabric that was her bra, she felt his fingers and their warm caress. She arched into the embrace. Her nipples hardened, and when he touched the puckered tip, she gasped.
Something hard and masculine jutted into her hip in an answering response. He was aroused, she thought with pleasure. He wanted her.
Jack drew back enough to pull her into a sitting position. He tugged off her shirt, then reached behind her for the fastening of her bra. When the lacy fabric fell to her lap, he stared at her full breasts.
“Perfect,” he breathed, cupping her in his hands.
Even as he stared deeply into her eyes, his thumbs brushed against her nipples. She couldn’t look away and she couldn’t help reacting. She parted her lips and gave a soft moan.
“Again,” he demanded, teasing the tight buds and making her writhe.
A collection of nerves formed a one-way connection from her breasts to that most feminine place between her legs. With each brush of his thumb and fingers, she dampened and readied. An ache began, pulsing in time with her heartbeat.
He moved his hands to her back and lowered her ont
o the cot again. She brushed her bra to the floor. Jack jerked his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans then quickly unfastened the buttons. When he shrugged free of the garment, she stared at his bare chest, at the hard muscles defined beneath a light dusting of dark hair.
“I never saw you before,” he said, lowering himself until his chest barely touched her nipples. “All those years ago. You’d let me slip my hand under your shirt, but I wasn’t allowed to look.”
He moved back and forth, teasing her sensitive buds with the tickling friction of his chest hair. She shivered, nearly unable to bear the erotic caress.
“I wondered what you’d be like,” he continued, his voice low and hoarse. “The color of your nipples, the shape of your breasts, how they’d shift in my hands and how they felt pressed against my chest.”
His words sucked her into the past, to a time when she’d been scared to do much more than kiss the boy who had stolen her heart. She remembered the thrill of having him slip his hand up her shirt and how she’d thought about doing more. Now, with him on top of her, their bare skin brushing and touching, she wondered how she’d resisted him.
“I guess I had more backbone then.” She managed to speak.
He grinned. “I like you better spineless.”
He shifted, kneeling between her thighs, then bent and took her left nipple in his mouth. His tongue swept over her. Katie clutched his head, holding him to her. She cried his name as his fingers matched the movements on her other breast. It was too perfect, she thought, feeling herself sink deeper into the madness of passion. Deep tugs low in her belly responded to his gentle nibbles. When he sucked, she felt her hips arch. Her legs moved restlessly. Tension grew. If he touched her, even for a second, she knew she would climax instantly. The aching was unbearable.
She dug her fingers into his hair and inhaled the scent of him. It was too much. She couldn’t believe how aroused she was, and so quickly. She’d always been something of a slow starter, requiring concentrated effort to get ready. But it had only been a few minutes and she was so prepared that if they didn’t do something soon, she was going to explode.