Back to Buckhorn

by Lori Foster

She felt a little sick being the recipient of all that ugly emotion.

  But she hoped she’d handled well.

  Certainly, she’d handled it better than Garrett. She could still hear him saying, High school is over, Carrie. Grow up already.

  The poor girl had stood there looking mortified, wounded and vindictive all at the same time, until Cody had quietly led her away. Clearly she’d expected Garrett to back her up.

  That he hadn’t made Zoey almost feel sorry for her.

  His hand clasped her shoulder. “The Donahues are only a small part of the community.”

  “I know.” In high school the Donahue children had been part of the elite society. But even before Gus had died and Carrie started openly hating her, Zoey had been an outsider. Her lower-income upbringing and the free-spirited way her mother raised her had ensured she’d always be different. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d ever.

  Freaks, Carrie had told her, belonged nowhere.

  Zoey told herself that most people were happy to move beyond a seven-year-old scandal. “A lot of people here have watched me with some uncertainty, but overall they’ve been nice.” She stepped around Garrett to turn the steaks. “And your family, of course, is always awesome.”

  “Yeah, they are.” He took the long fork from her and removed his steak from the grill, plopping it on a platter.

  Distaste scrunched her face and her stomach curled. “You’re going to eat it that bloody?”

  “It’s rare,” he explained.

  “It’s still mooing.”

  He laughed, took in her aversion and paused. “Does it really bother you?”

  “Yeah. I’m not sure I can kiss someone with blood on their teeth, and I really wanted to kiss you again.”

  As if someone had used the fork on his sexy butt, he jumped—then froze.

  Case in point, Zoey thought, knowing she’d again spoken out in a way few would have. But darn it, she had no skills in tact or subtlety. “You don’t want to kiss me again?” Because she was pretty darned certain he did. And she definitely wanted him to. Shoot, her lips still tingled from that earlier taste.

  His gaze went to her mouth, held there, and he groaned.

  Now what was that about? Did he regret kissing her? Hands on her hips, she frowned at him. “Is something wrong?”

  “Not a thing.” While muttering something about his sister, he put the steak back on the grill.

  Unsure if that meant he would kiss her after all, she moved nearer to him. When he faced her, her heart tried to punch its way out of her chest. “Amber eats her steak raw, too?”

  “Rare, and no. She’s medium.” He stroked her hair, seemed to catch himself, and tucked a stray tendril behind her ear. “What about you?”

  “I’m well-done. No pink at all.”

  He opened his mouth...then shut it again with a wince of guilt and focused on his steak, using the long fork to move it to the corner of the grill.

  “What?” Zoey goosed his midsection, realized there was no give to the solid muscles there and opened her hand on him for a better feel. He felt really good under the soft cotton of his T-shirt. “What were you going to say?”

  “Something I shouldn’t.” He caught her hand and held it.

  “Okay, now I have to know!”

  “It was...” He glanced at her, did a visible struggle with himself and gave up. “Suggestive.”

  “Suggestive?”

  “Sexual,” he clarified.

  “Really?” Better and better. She leaned in and lowered her voice. “Tell me.”

  With a wicked smile, he gave in. “Something about me liking pink.” When she just stared at him, he elaborated. “Pink. On you.”

  She shook her head.

  And that made his smile widen into a grin. Bending to her ear, he whispered, “I think of pink, and I visualize all those warm, damp places on your naked body—”

  “Garrett!” With a rush of heat—not all of it embarrassment—she stumbled back from him.

  Amusement growing by the second, he shrugged. “You insisted.”

  When he had her blushing, he seemed more comfortable, like maybe her embarrassment presented a necessary barrier between them. “I don’t understand you.”

  “I’m a guy. Easy enough to understand.”

  She snorted. Nothing easy about him at all. He teased and flirted, but was most at ease when she didn’t return the favor. Did he flirt with every woman? Maybe she read too much into it. Maybe it made him uncomfortable to know she was equally—or probably more—attracted to him.

  He lifted the steak. “Is that cooked enough that I can eat it without repulsing you?”

  It wasn’t, but she nodded anyway.

  She didn’t have a picnic table yet, or even any outdoor chairs. But it didn’t bother Garrett. Before starting the grill, he’d gone to his truck, got a blanket from behind the seat and spread it in the yard picnic-style beneath one of the tall elm trees.

  It was by far the most wonderful, romantic dinner she’d ever had.

  By the time they started eating, the sun had sunk low, barely visible behind the hills, splashing the sky in inspiring shades of crimson, tangerine and mauve. The air cooled a little, making it more comfortable even as the nighttime humidity set in.

  They ate in a cozy silence, watching as lightning bugs showed up by the dozen. Zoey plucked a blade of dewy grass. “I’d forgotten how damp everything is around a lake. I’m getting wet just sitting here.”

  This time when he grinned, Zoey knew why and she threw her napkin at him.

  With a low laugh, he tossed it back at her. “Don’t want me to visualize that, huh?”

  “No!”

  “Too late,” he said softly. Reaching out, he caught her ankle and moved his thumb over her skin. “Are you this soft all over?”

  At that brief, simple touch, her heart sped up. “I don’t know.”

  Their gazes clashed and held as his fingertips trailed up her calf to the inside of her knee.

  Her heart hammered and her toes curled.

  Abruptly he released her, pushed his empty plate back and left the blanket to explore the fire pit a few yards away.

  Staring after him, Zoey saw the stiff way he held his shoulders. Why the sudden retreat?

  “Have you used this yet?”

  “No.” Quickly she finished up the last few bites of her own meal and joined him.

  It felt very intimate standing beside him in the shadowy sunset. All around them insects chirped as twinkling stars pierced the dark sky.

  Zoey didn’t want the evening to end already. After clearing her throat, she asked, “Can we fire it up, do you think?”

  He crouched down and examined the stones placed around the pit.

  While he did that, she examined the breadth of his shoulders, the long line of his spine, how his thighs strained the denim of his jeans.

  No two ways about it, the man was put together fine. But her draw to him was more than that. He’d always been friendly, a natural born leader, and now as a fireman he lived as a hero. He had an easy, comfortable way about him that proved he made up his own mind instead of being swayed, didn’t judge others, but instead offered help when he could.

  She thought of how he’d defended her in the grocery store, and it did funny things to her. Nice things.

  Turbulent things.

  For the longest time he remained in that position, his face turned away from her.

  Tension mounted until Zoey doubted she’d be able to convince him to stay. “Garrett?”

  He straightened again, and looked down at her for a heart-stopping length of time.

  She smiled. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” Almost against his will, he touched her cheek, then shook hi
s head. “I’ll gather up some kindling if you want to grab matches and maybe some old papers, too.”

  “All right.” But to be sure, she asked, “You’re staying a little longer?”

  “If that’s okay.”

  “It’s terrific.” Lighthearted now that she knew she hadn’t chased him off, she collected their dishes on her way in and put them in the sink. Her ancient plumbing didn’t include a dishwasher, so she’d take care of washing them later.

  While inside, she hugged herself, anticipating more kissing.

  Garrett kept her guessing, but she’d learned to live with optimism.

  After locating an old magazine and the box of matches she kept with candles on a shelf, she hurried back out.

  It pleased her to see that he’d rearranged the blanket and their drinks closer to the pit and had an impressive stack of twigs laid inside it, with some bigger fallen branches waiting to go on next.

  “Will this work?”

  “That’s perfect.” He tore out several pages, rolled them tightly, and stuck them between the twigs.

  Unsure what else to do, Zoey lowered herself to her knees on the blanket.

  And hoped he would join her soon.

  While he worked, he asked in more detail about her mother’s progress and seemed genuinely pleased that she was doing better. Because his work as a fireman included paramedic training, he had a great understanding of what her mother’s treatment would be.

  “I should be able to bring her home by the end of the month. Until then, I still have a lot of stuff to get done inside.”

  “Before I leave, I could take a look.”

  “At what?”

  He laughed. “Your house. That way I’ll have an idea of what we need before we get started next Saturday.”

  Sitting back on her heels, Zoey considered him and his repeated offers to help. Was he just being his usual terrific self, or looking for reasons to be around her?

  Everyone knew his entire family was made up of do-gooders who took large, active roles in the community, either through their careers, or plain goodwill. Being that he was the same, maybe Garrett saw her as a project.

  She hated that idea.

  Once the fire started, Garrett added a few of the bigger logs, waiting until they snapped and hissed before sitting beside Zoey. Legs out, arms braced behind him, he sat catty-corner to her, facing the fire.

  She faced him, her knees almost touching his thigh.

  “That shed is a fire hazard,” he said. “I think we should just knock it down.”

  “I peeked inside there one day, saw a snake and haven’t gotten anywhere near it since.”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  That made her frown. She put her shoulders back. “It’s my shed, so I’ll help. Even if there are snakes.”

  He gave her a fleeting smile. “All right.”

  Damn. She glanced at the shed in the dusk and shuddered. Maybe she should have kept her mouth shut.

  “So, about your mom...” With noticeable caution, he asked, “Think she’ll be up to joining us at the fund-raiser?”

  Thrilled at the suggestion, Zoey stared at him. “You’re serious?”

  “It’s a big event. Most of the town will be there. I mean, it’s not like it would have been...”

  “Private?” The way this was.

  “Yeah. There’ll be competitions and dancing and raffles. What do you think?”

  The firelight played over his face, putting blue highlights in his hair, emphasizing the cut of his cheekbones, the length of his dark lashes. She sighed. “I think you’re wonderful.”

  That must have surprised him. His brows twitched with a puzzled frown. “You don’t mind?”

  That he was sweet enough to include her mother? “Of course not.” Without thinking about it, she leaned in and gave him a quick, tight hug of gratitude. “Thank you.”

  She started to lean away again, but with his left arm around her, he kept her close. His hand opened on her back, caressing. He nuzzled her temple.

  Relaxing, she sank against him.

  Near her ear, he murmured, “You smell good, Zoey.”

  She loved hearing that particular husky tone from him.

  The heat of the fire teased along their skin, combating the humidity. Down by the lake, frogs started a chorus of croaking that echoed over the yard.

  When he did nothing else, she asked, “Are you going to kiss me again?”

  “Do you want me to?”

  She pressed back to see his face. “That’s a joke, right?”

  He smiled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Zoey held her breath...and then held it some more while Garrett appeared to struggle with himself.

  Starting to feel insulted, she quirked her mouth. “If you don’t want to, I won’t pressure you.”

  “You can’t pressure me.” He held on to her when she would have pushed away. “And what I want isn’t the problem.”

  “Then do it.”

  His gaze dipped to her mouth.

  Exasperated, Zoey huffed, leaned in and smashed her mouth over his. That spurred him into action and he took over, slowly adjusting to make the kiss softer, deeper, nudging her lips to open so he could lick his tongue inside.

  One hand tangled in her hair, the other curved low on her back, very near her behind.

  Zoey wrapped her arms around his neck and held on. She wouldn’t mind kissing him for, oh, a week? He tasted good, smelled good and felt even better.

  Easing back, he kissed the corner of her lips, her jaw, up to her ear.

  Zoey rasped, “See. No problems.”

  She felt his smile against her jaw. “You’ll give me a tour of the house?”

  Unsure of his motives, she measured her words. “I’d love to show you around.” They’d be inside...near her bed.

  Was she ready to go there so soon?

  Once her mom came home, the opportunity might be lost, so...yes. She was readyespecially after that heated kiss. “Just keep in mind that relocating and buying the house and starting up the new business is straining my savings, so I’m doing things as—” cheaply “—affordably as I can.”

  “Not a problem. Labor is usually the biggest cost.” He nipped her bottom lip. “But I’m affordable.”

  Would she need to pay him? And how would that work?

  Another quick, firm kiss, and he sat back from her. “Stop fretting, Zoey. We’ll work it out.”

  “I almost never fret. It’s pointless.” And thinking that, she dropped to her back on the blanket to take in the inky sky glittering with stars. “Look at that.”

  Garrett said, “I’m looking.”

  “It’s such a clear night.” When he didn’t comment, she asked, “You don’t enjoy the stars?”

  She sensed more than heard him moving closer before he said, “I do.”

  “I swear they look different here than they did in the city.”

  “That’s where you lived?”

  “When I left here, I wasn’t sure where to go. I just wanted...out. But I ended up in Lexington, and it suited me. I had a cute little apartment, a terrific job as an assistant with a pet groomer, plenty of friends...”

  “That you didn’t mind leaving?”

  What could she tell him? Lexington was great—but it wasn’t Buckhorn. “As Dorothy would tell you, there’s no place like home.” And she’d missed home so very much.

  He came down on his elbow beside her, near enough that she felt the warmth of his body and could breathe in his scent. “You should never have gone away.”

  Turning her head, she tried to see his thoughts, but the flames of the fire danced, distorting his features, making him look almost...apologetic.

  But that didn
’t make any sense. He’d had nothing to do with her situation back then.

  Quietly, she said, “You know I had to.”

  “I know the rumors. I heard the gossip. You broke things off with Gus Donahue, and he didn’t take it well.”

  Her short, harsh laugh disturbed the quiet of the peaceful night, and she quickly apologized. “Sorry. It’s not funny—but what an understatement. His reaction was so over-the-top, I didn’t know what to do.”

  His gaze drifted over her, her face, then her body beneath the moonlight. “Would you tell me what actually happened?”

  There had been few opportunities to talk about that wretched event. She’d confided only in her mother because there’d been no one else interested in the truth. “You really want to know?”

  “If you don’t mind telling me.”

  As if the words had been bubbling near the surface, just waiting for permission, she blurted them out. “Gus wanted to have sex, I didn’t, and he flew off the handle.”

  Garrett didn’t seem surprised, and he didn’t doubt her. “I can understand him trying. You were hot even back then.”

  She blinked at him. Garrett had thought her hot?

  “But even a horny kid has to understand that no is no.”

  “He said I’d led him on and that the whole town would call him a fool if he couldn’t score with someone like me.”

  Garrett was silent—but he touched her, first her wrist, the back of her hand. He traced her fingers, then laced his in hers, palm to palm. His big, strong hand engulfed hers, emphasizing the differences in their sizes and giving her an added thrill. “I’m sorry.”

  “About what?”

  “How unfairly you were judged when no one had the whole story.”

  She shrugged it off; she’d long since grown used to the biased assessment of what had happened that day. Even so, it felt nice, really nice, having someone to hold on to. “It wasn’t the first time that he’d gotten enraged over something ridiculous. I’d had enough of it, and I told him we were through.”

  “That’s when he left?”

  Remembering, she gave a slow shake of her head. “First he broke a few things. One of our lamps, my mom’s music box.” Her chest hurt with the memory. “It had been her grandmother’s, and it sat on a shelf in our living room.”