Gun Shy

by Diane Saxon

  She leaned on the bar and waited for the good-looking young cowboy to serve her.

  “What can I get you?”

  Meltingly warm brown eyes sparkled with interest at her from a face that had to contain the Swann genes. He just needed a few more years under his belt before he was truly dangerous to the female population. It didn’t mean Kate couldn’t respond to his admiring perusal.

  She gave him a wide smile. “Do you have white wine?”

  “We do. What’s your preference?”

  “What have you got?”

  He turned his back, opened a glass-fronted fridge, slid four bottles of wine from their racks, and placed them on the bar in front of her.

  “We have these. I’d recommend this one.” He tapped a slim bottle with a black label and gold writing. “But if you want something a little more special, I can go down to the cellar for you.”

  “No, no. This is perfect. Thank you.”

  Kate paid the bar man and watched him swagger away to serve a petite blonde at the other end of the bar. Definitely a Swann.

  She picked up her chilled glass of Californian Chenin blanc and let the flavor of it wash over her tongue before she placed it back on the bar and turned to watch the room.

  Wooden tables and chairs worn down through years of scrubbing and bleaching were scattered around what appeared to be an empty dance area, and at the far end of that area was a small raised stage filled with cowboys tuning up various musical instruments.

  The reason Kate had agreed to go was to avoid Jack for a while longer. It suited her it was early. The place was still quiet, but Kate imagined it would fill up later in the evening when she could slip out unnoticed and go home to her own bed.

  Bill threaded her way through the tables to the stage, and Kate squinted through the half-light as the other woman threw herself into the arms of a young god, dressed as a cowboy who’d been tuning up his guitar. The embrace turned into a hardy patting of backs and punching of shoulders, and Kate wondered at the platonic nature Bill had with the men who surrounded her.

  Kate assessed Bill’s clothes. Jeans, black T-shirt, black trainers. Done. No makeup. No hairdo, just washed and left straight as a die, black as a crow. Bill was beautiful, and no one seemed to have noticed. Least of all, Bill.

  Interrupting her thoughts, she realized Bill was waving her over. She scooped up her glass of white wine and wound her way through the smattering of people over to the stage.

  “Kate, come and meet my cousin Sam.”

  Was this the Sam—hot, cool, cute, sexy Sam?

  He glanced up at her from under his Stetson with a shy smile, a deep dimple, and toffee-colored eyes filled with innocence. Oh yeah, this was the Sam. Were they all bred beautiful in this area?

  “Hey.” With a self-conscious smile, he ducked his head in greeting to her. “I hear you’re dating my big brother.” The soft croon of his voice swept over her.

  Kate heaved a sigh. Of course they were related. The “Swann” genes waved at her from his good looks, thick hair, long lean body, and broad expanse of chest.

  “I am seeing your brother, although ‘dating’ may be a little more than Jack likes to admit to.” She scooted over to take a seat next to him and gently relieved him of his guitar. She strummed a few chords.

  “That’s the word on the street.” His shy smile dimpled his cheeks and melted her heart. “Seems to me everyone thinks Jack’s taken. No more women throwing themselves at him, and it appears you spend more of your time at his place than yours.”

  “Well.” She blew out a breath. “Word certainly does get around. Do I cook for him?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Do I clean his house?”

  “Without a doubt.”

  “Does he make me happy?”

  “Delirious.”

  “Nice to know.” She’d done a little of the first two, but the last statement could be questionable. “Is there anything else I should know about my relationship with the good sheriff?”

  “Word is you’ve met his grandmother and she likes you very much and thinks you may well just suit her grandson.” The shy dip of his head didn’t stop the young cowboy from talking in his velvet tones. No wonder the women raved about him. “She thinks when you meet the rest of his family on Sunday at the christening, they’re going to like you too.”

  Her fingers faltered mid strum, and the smile she tried to keep in place slid away as her gaze met his. His own smile hesitated, and the dimple in his cheek winked out as Kate stared straight at him.

  “Shit. Perhaps he hasn’t got around to asking you yet.” He scrubbed his fingers through the front of his russet hair and across his forehead, tipping his hat farther back on his head, and then stared down at the stage as if he wanted a hole to open up for him to jump in to.

  It wasn’t his fault, and Kate certainly wasn’t going to take it out on him. Jack would get around to it. Perhaps he’d been going to ask her the other day, before their little spat, but a christening—he could have at least given her notice.

  She would have to look through her wardrobe so she was prepared. Just in case. Perhaps it was a surprise. Then again, perhaps not. Maybe he was still really unhappy with her and didn’t consider it just a spat. Maybe it was over. She didn’t want to think about it right now.

  In an effort to distract Sam, Kate shrugged and plucked a few notes while she glanced at the handsome cowboy and forced a reassuring smile to slide back into place. “What do you sing?”

  His russet eyebrow winged up, and his lopsided smile caught her unawares. “Country, little bit of Bluegrass, a good pinch of Rock, just to confuse. How about you?”

  Smiling, Kate plucked a few notes. “I love all sorts of music, but if I told you my younger sister used to write hard rock, you’d probably be shocked, especially if I told you she used to make me scream out the lyrics with her. These days I prefer gentler things; country-pop is good for me, and I love Tim McGraw, ‘Me and Tennessee’.”

  “Yeah? You want to sing it?”

  “Oh no, no, no.” She quickly handed him back his guitar. “I was just saying.”

  “Do you know the lyrics?”

  “Yes.”

  “You can sing can’t you?”

  “Well…”

  “Karaoke only?”

  “Certainly not!” She hesitated. “But only ever backing.”

  “Excellent. Now’s your time, sugar. Boys, ‘Me and Tennessee’ for the lady.”

  Someone handed her a microphone while Sam adjusted the stand for his. A little tremor of excitement charged through her veins at being able to sing on a stage with a small audience she’d probably never see again if she messed up anyway.

  Just wait until she told her sister.

  ∙•∙

  Jack pushed his way through the swinging doors into Toe Tappers as the first few notes of “Me and Tennessee” started to play. His heart tripped as he spied Kate and his brother across the room singing together on the small stage. Rooted to the spot, he took in the scene. For once, the place was quiet as the patrons listened to the rich vibrant tones of the cool doctor accompanying Sam in the well-known melody.

  Sam’s talent was indisputable. Jack’s chest swelled with pride every time he heard his brother sing. The guy should have been famous, but he wasn’t interested in the life of a star. He did it for pleasure. Stardom wouldn’t have suited him. Unlike Mac, Sam sought the quiet life out on the range.

  Kate was a surprise. He’d never realized she could sing. Her soft hair was loose, draping past her hips in gentle waves. Dressed in jeans and a soft blue linen shirt, she held the microphone like she’d been brought up with it in her hand instead of a scalpel.

  The swell of pride turned to a tightening in his chest as his breath shortened. He’d never witnessed anything lovelier than the sight of his woman. So far removed from the efficient, cool doctor. She needed to keep her head and her heart straight when she was tending wounds, stitching faces, fixing bones, massag
ing hearts, saving lives. There was not a drop of ice in her now.

  The liquid whiskey in her tone accompanied the smooth cream of his brother’s. The hitch in her voice and the pleasure on her face when she saw him made him smile even wider. He thought she might still be annoyed with him, but it appeared Kate was the type to have her say and then move on. She’d kicked him out of her workplace and rightly so, and then carried on as if nothing had happened.

  Warmth rolled through his chest. He thought he might just have to crawl, but she’d made it so much easier. She always made it easy.

  It had been worth arranging for a few hours off when he’d found out from her colleagues where they were, just to see her face.

  He weaved his way between the tables and across the dance floor as he listened to her finish up the song. He casually plopped the Stetson he’d bought for her onto her head as though he hadn’t spent hours choosing it and a fortune having it made especially for her.

  The other present he’d bought was back home, wrapped in pretty paper and hidden in his bedside drawer. The timing hadn’t been right to give it to her. Maybe later, when she came back home with him. He’d have to judge her mood.

  The surprised delight warmed his chest and kicked up the rhythm of his pulse in time with the melody Sam had seamlessly floated into.

  Jack held out a hand to her, glancing at his brother and circling his other hand over his head to indicate for him to continue that type of song so he could take Kate into his arms and smooch with her.

  A little risky, but it was already too late if his grandmother knew.

  As he swung her off her feet and from the stage, his brother moved swiftly into a rowdy, boisterous line-dancing medley with a look of sheer devilry on his face.

  Delighted laughter rolled out of Kate as Jack hauled her all over the dance floor, her coordination terrible. For someone with such precise abilities in a surgical operation, she surprised him with her inability to turn in the right direction at the right time.

  By the time Sam changed the pace down to a slow song, she was breathless and exhausted.

  Taking her into his arms where he had wanted her in the first place, Jack gazed into her flushed, vibrant face with eyes that sparkled with delight and felt his heart do a slow painful roll in his chest.

  Enfolding her closer, he let her cheek rest on his shoulder and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. As she tilted her face back to look up at him, he gently kissed the end of her nose and then dipped in for a sweet assault on her mouth as he swayed to the rhythm of the heart-rending song Sam poured out.

  They stayed molded together for long moments after the song finished, and as the general sounds of the room invaded their privacy, Jack brushed a hand over the side of Kate’s face, gently pushing her hair back behind her ear. “Let’s go home.”

  “Yes.”

  It was all the answer he required before he ushered her out the door.

  »»•««

  They left the house in darkness as he led her through to his bedroom. The curtains were still open, and moonlight stretched its bright silvery fingers across the floor, illuminating the room as they faced each other by the side of the bed. She rocked his heart. He’d given her passion, but he wanted to give her tenderness.

  With unhurried movements, Jack unbuttoned her shirt. He slid his hands across the cool satin flesh of her shoulders, persuaded the material to fall from her arms. With a delicate whisper, it pooled on the floor at her feet. Gooseflesh broke out across her skin as he reached behind and unfastened the clasp of her bra, sending it to the same fate as the shirt. He skimmed a finger from her shoulder down toward her nipple and delighted as her cool blue eyes turned a molten pool of desire. With delicate nips he followed the path of his finger with his lips, gently coaxing a response from the pretty little bud with his mouth.

  He flicked the button of her jeans undone while she held still and silent. He kneeled on the floor and let his lips trail the path of his hands as he pushed the denim and the little scrap of material claiming to be her panties down past her hips, over her shapely thighs, past her knees to her ankles until he coaxed her to step out of her clothes. Warm fingers against her cooler skin, he glided his hands up the back of her calves, onward to her thighs, and higher still to the globes of her sweet little ass. Her soft murmur encouraged him to pull her toward him and bury his face in the cool softness of her stomach, his tongue dipped into her navel, his lips seduced her silken flesh. Aware of the roughness of his face against her tender skin, he kept his touch light and seductive.

  Sweet English rose, he thought as his senses were assailed by her. Her scent filled him, the texture of her skin fascinated him, and the taste of her drove him to insanity. She was so pliable, so trusting he knew she would allow him to take her anywhere, do anything, and the thought gave him a moment of pause.

  She whispered his name as her head fell back, her eyes half closed. He shut his own eyes and chased away any fear he might have as he came to his feet and wrapped himself in her.

  Her hair spilled in liquid gold satin as he placed her with tenderness upon the bed and stroked strands away from her face before standing to remove his own clothes. He watched her lie there like an offering to the gods. She had no idea how perfect she was. She couldn’t conceive of the fact that she was so beautiful, every move she made pulled at him.

  As he stepped out of his jeans and moved toward her, her lips curved in a long, self-assured smile. Thick eyelashes fluttered as her lids lowered to half-mast, and she reached out her arms to welcome him.

  Lying with her, he placed tender kisses to soothe and seduce. With warm, loving pecks, he traced the line from her ear to her jaw with his lips and then swooped in to her beautiful lush mouth, his lips parting hers to go deep and deeper still. The hitch in her breath coursed through his body, arousing him, pushing him, but still he held back to give her the tenderness she deserved. She held on, cupping the back of his head, allowing him all the access he wanted, desired.

  Her strong, capable fingers kneaded down his neck to smooth over his shoulders and make him groan with desire.

  He sipped at the sweet flesh in the crook of her neck as he cupped her damp warmth, his fingers smoothing over her delicate skin to caress and arouse her.

  Buried in the depth of his desire, he returned his mouth to hers to swallow her soft gasps of surprise and delight as he dipped his fingers into her satin heat. Electric frissons pulsed as shockwaves of pleasure poured through him demanding he take more, but still he held back.

  “You’re so beautiful.” He raised his head to stare at her as she opened to him, as she arched herself in invitation while he took a brief moment to slip on a condom.

  “Jack,” she pleaded, her voice throaty and warm. She reached with silken arms for him, pulling him to her, over her.

  He murmured sweet words, encouraging words as he slipped slowly inside her, his control almost gone. She wrapped around him, drew him in deep, and encircled him with her warmth, inviting him to join her in the dizzy slide into passion. Dazed with his own feelings, her whispered words urged him on. Words of passion, words of love; and he reveled in her invitation.

  They moved together in utter harmony, their bodies in tune as though they had been together years, not simply a few short months. Captivated by her, his heart swelled with a painful tremor as they found their final release together. Wrapped in her arms, he shared his warmth while he gave in to the clouds of contentment wafting through his brain.

  Languid, it took him longer than usual to rouse, but when he did, it was with the uncertain fear and doubt that had surfaced earlier.

  He believed she was asleep as he allowed his feelings for her to troll through his mind. He knew he was in deep and wasn’t entirely sure what it was he was supposed to do now, which step to take. He had seduced her thoroughly, knowing she was a woman who needed his seduction right then, but it concerned him she would put too much importance on what had occurred between them. Each move they
made together cornered him further, and like a wild animal when cornered, he wasn’t entirely sure which way to turn, but his instinct was to stand and fight.

  ∙•∙

  Restless, he moved against her, but she held on. A small smile played over her lips as a gentle humming noise of approval came through her throat at the steel slide of his hair-roughed legs against hers. He shifted to pull her close against him and tuck her in. Satisfied, she raked her fingernails across his chest.

  “I thought you were asleep,” his deep, husky voice rumbled.

  “No, I was just letting my mind drift.” Her own voice a sluggish whisper, she traced the whorl of hair around his nipple.

  “And where was your drift taking you?”

  Her breath filled her chest, and she sighed it out again. Perhaps it was time. Time to let him know how she felt, where she stood in their relationship. He’d made it clear there was to be nothing permanent, but her heart was fit to burst with her feelings, and it could only damage them both to restrain it any longer. After all, everyone knew about them. He’d staked a claim tonight by turning up at Toe Tappers and dancing with her. It would have been obvious to anyone who cared to take notice that they left together.

  Perhaps if she was gentle, he’d come to realize what she already knew.

  “What are we doing on Sunday, Jack?” She trailed a finger down the center line of his belly, smiling at the quick jump and twitch of his muscles.

  “Hmm?”

  “Sunday. The christening?” The darkness almost swallowed up her whispered question.

  And then she felt it. The slow stiffening of his body, the withdrawal without actually shifting away, and the long, painful quiet. He cleared his throat, and the silence went on again.

  Kate raised herself up on her elbow so she could make out his features in the moonlight, all angles and shadows and tightly clenched eyes. Her stomach tightened with his blatant rejection, but she was no coward and she wanted to make it clear in her own mind.

  “I assume by this,”—she flicked her fingers at the pained expression on his face—“I’m not invited?”