Her chest tightened. She’d signed up for a romp. What he was describing sounded suspiciously like a romance.
She’d had one of those. It had clouded her thinking and blinded her to the problems lurking in the relationship.
She could deal with a romp. She might be able to handle an extended fling. As for romance, she wasn’t in the market.
Chapter Twenty-One
Pete was not only starving, he wanted to help cook dinner. Hanging around letting someone else handle the chores didn’t sit well with him. Other than his specialty of French toast, he was no expert in the kitchen, but he was terrific at helping.
Taryn had spaghetti noodles and a jar of sauce she’d picked up at the Eagles Nest market. Interesting that she’d done that after proclaiming that she didn’t normally keep standard dinner items on hand. Almost like she’d anticipated that they’d share another evening meal. In any case, he could help her put spaghetti together.
Deciding his clothes were dry enough, he pulled on his briefs, his jeans and his yoked shirt. His t-shirt was still damp around the neck, but he didn’t absolutely have to put that on. Hanging out in the kitchen with Taryn should heat him up to the point he didn’t need that extra layer.
She’d put on her PJs and slippers after the epic shower experience. She’d also used a blow dryer on her hair and had tried to talk him into blow-drying his. He’d refused, and she was still teasing him about it while they heated spaghetti sauce and cooked noodles.
“I don’t get what’s unmanly about aiming some warm air at your hair so it’ll dry faster.” She picked up a wooden spoon and stirred the noodles.
“It’s not unmanly. I’m sure plenty of manly men do it. For me, though, it’s unnecessary.” The sauce was his responsibility and it was bubbling too much so he turned down the heat. “Most of the time I’m wearing a hat.”
“Not tonight.” She sauntered over and reached up to comb her fingers through his damp hair. “This could be completely dry if you hadn’t stubbornly refused to take my—”
He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close. “But now I have extra time to do this.” He captured her mouth and settled in. In less than two seconds, she’d melted into that kiss and her tempting body had molded to his.
Lifting his head, he gazed into her heavy-lidded eyes. “Or maybe I should blow-dry my hair.”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
He grinned. “Okay, since I have the time.” He lowered his head and the kitchen lights flickered. “Uh-oh.”
“Power going out?”
“Maybe not. It might only be—” The house went dark, the fridge clicked off and so did the stove. Warm air no longer blew through the heater vents. A deep silence reigned. “It could come back on. Sometimes it’s only a temporary glitch.”
“Sure is dark. And quiet. I’ve been in blackouts before, but I was in the city. You still had cars going by with their lights on, and some buildings had a generator. You’re probably used to this total darkness.”
“Kind of.” Still startling, though.
“We should pull the battery-operated lanterns and the candles out of the storeroom.” She laughed. “If only we could see.”
“My phone’s on the kitchen table. I’ll get it.” He found the table but stubbed his bare toe on the leg of a chair. “Damn.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He patted the surface of the table until he located his phone.
“Don’t tell me nothing. I heard a thump and then you swore.”
“Stubbed my toe on the leg of a kitchen chair. I’m fine.” He turned on his flashlight app and handed her his phone.
She swept the beam toward his feet. “I don’t see blood. Guess I can believe you.” Walking into the storeroom, she focused the light on the shelves, took down a lantern and switched it on. “Wow, that’s bright.”
He leaned in the doorway. “There’s probably a way to dim it.”
“Yeah, but more is better, right?”
“Guess so, at least for getting dinner ready. I see you bought candles in glass jars. Good move. Much safer that way.”
“But we don’t need to bother with them.”
“Why not?” He pushed away from the doorframe as she walked out and gave him the phone.
“Don’t need ’em. The lantern will do the trick.”
Weren’t women supposed to love candlelight? “It will, but would you mind if I lit a couple of those candles and put them in the living room?”
She gave him a funny look. “Um, sure. Go ahead.” She held the lantern near the doorway.
Walking in, he took down two of the candle jars. Scented with cinnamon and clove, too. He came back out and closed the storage room door. “Might as well have a little atmosphere with our power outage. I’ll go light these and build up the fire.”
“Hey, that’s right. The fire is our only source of heat.”
Yes, it was, and she’d had to point it out to him. He’d been more focused on creating ambiance for a romantic interlude than preparing for a night without central heating. Time to get his head in the game. “Come on back to your bedroom with me.”
Her eyes widened.
“Not for that, unfortunately. We need to haul bedding into the living room and I don’t know which blankets you—”
“Ah. I get it. Come on.” She left the kitchen, lantern held high to light their way.
He left the candles on an end table as he passed by. “I’ll bring in more wood from the laundry room so we’ll have a supply handy. Closing off all the other rooms will help contain the heat.”
“And drawing the living room curtains. They’re still open.” She walked into the bedroom and set the lantern on her dresser. “What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without electricity?”
“About fifteen minutes.”
“Whaaat?” She spun to face him.
“We had a generator at the Lazy S the whole time I lived there. Evidently my mother insisted on it because there were babies in the house.”
“And here I thought you were a veteran of the power outage wars.”
“I am. We always operated as if we might get completely cut off. Dad kept the generator maintained, but it was a machine. Machines malfunction. We were stocked with battery-operated lanterns, candles and plenty of firewood.”
“Just like me.”
“We’ll be fine. We have wood, blankets—”
“And each other.”
“True.” His brain took a hike down the sensuality trail. Couldn’t avoid that tantalizing route, especially when she was showing him the way.
“Everyone knows getting naked and hugging each other keeps you from freezing to death.”
“Uh-huh.” Fire licked his privates and her bed was steps away. He sucked in air. “Let’s get those blankets.”
* * *
Pete had done everything he could think of to prepare for hours without electricity. He’d brought in more wood from the laundry room and filled the bathtub with water. Their dinner dishes had been cleared but left unwashed. Blankets were piled on the end of the couch, available for when they decided to make up their bed on the floor in front of the fireplace. Pillows were stacked on both easy chairs.
He’d moved the coffee table after dinner but hadn’t suggested creating their bed yet. Neither had she. Instead he’d cuddled up with her on the other half of the couch. They weren’t making out, either, although the possibility hovered in the background.
For the time being, they’d settled in to watch the fire and just…talk. He’d convinced her that they didn’t need the lantern since they had firelight and the glow from the spice-scented candles.
Truth be told, he couldn’t come up with anything more he required at this moment. Gazing into the flames and discussing plans for Crimson Clouds with Taryn snuggled in the crook of his arm was his version of paradise.
Well, some of those little raincoats would be nice, but other than that, he couldn’t be any happier. Desire si
mmered under the surface, bubbling up whenever she shifted slightly in his arms and her scent teased him. Or when she looked up at him, laughter in her eyes, and the laughter gradually transformed to heat.
He held off kissing her because once he did, their clothes would come off and this moment would become something else entirely. He wanted that, too, but this…this was special.
It wasn’t like they were ignoring the sensuality linking them. As she broached the subject of expanding their herd of horses, she casually rested her hand on his thigh. Her touch penetrated the denim, traveled to his groin, spread warmth, but not so much that he had to take action.
As he laid out his thoughts on their next horse-buying venture, he lazily traced the curve of her ear with one finger.
“I would love an appaloosa.” Her voice took on a low, intimate quality. “So beautiful and so interesting to look at.”
“Expensive.”
“I know.” She drew a figure-eight pattern on his thigh. “I can wait. See how the summer goes.”
He toyed with a lock of her hair, brushing it against her cheek. “Maybe we’ll find a smokin’ deal.”
“That would be nice.” She sounded a little breathless. “Speaking of smoke, the—”
“Fire needs tending.” He levered himself off the couch. His jeans pinched as he crouched on the hearth. Conversation time might be over.
He rearranged the logs and added two more. Standing, he replaced the screen, turned and sucked in a breath. She lay naked on the couch, propped against the mound of blankets.
Her seductive smile added to the pressure building behind his fly. Swinging her feet to the floor, she rose, grabbed a pillow from the closest easy chair and tossed it his way. “Ready to check out the scientific evidence on naked bodies and warmth?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Taryn couldn’t vouch for the purity of her research methods, but her naked body writhing against Pete’s generated a hell of a lot of heat. He made her come again and she returned the favor. After their energetic lovemaking, she had no need for a comforter. And talk about relaxed. Her eyes drifted closed.
Pete lay on his back beside her, his head on a fluffy pillow, his hand entwined with hers as his breathing slowed. “Epic.”
“Yep.”
“Not that we need it, but I’d better add a couple of logs to the fire. Don’t want it to go out.” Giving her hand a squeeze, he left their cozy nest.
Rolling to her side, she struggled to keep her eyes open because Pete naked in front of the fire was a fabulous visual.
He returned and stretched out facing her. “Can’t speak for you, but I’m lovin’ this blizzard.”
“Me, too.” She covered a yawn. “But I just realized that if we fall asleep, there will be nobody to tend the fire.”
“Don’t worry.” He reached over and stroked her cheek. “I’ll keep it going.”
“How? I’m getting sleepy, and you’ve been awake as many hours as I have. You also chopped all that wood.”
He grinned. “And made all that love.”
“Exactly. You won’t be able to stay awake.”
“You’re right. I won’t. But I’ll set my internal alarm.” Leaning closer, he kissed her gently. “Go to sleep. I’ll keep watch.”
She stifled another yawn. “Doesn’t seem fair.”
“Sure it is. I chose to stay so I could keep you safe. And warm.”
She gave up the effort to keep her eyes open. “Good job on that.”
He chuckled. “Thanks. Want the comforter over you?”
“Not yet. Still…very…warm.”
“Okay.” He kissed her again.
Five minutes later, or so it seemed, she woke up with a start. Pete had covered them with the comforter and another blanket. He was asleep, his breathing slow and even, his cheeks and chin darkened with stubble. Propping herself on one arm, she looked beyond him to the fire, which was crackling merrily.
The log rack was nearly empty. She’d been asleep for hours and Pete, true to his word, had kept the fire going. He must have been awake only minutes ago and she certainly didn’t want to disturb him, now.
Lying down again, she took a deep breath and looked up at the beamed ceiling above her. She admired Pete’s heroics, but his dedication unsettled her a bit. There was nothing casual about his—
Wait. She could see the beams above her. And the couch beside her. Pale gray light came through a break in the drapes covering the picture window. The wind no longer howled and battered the house. It was morning. The blizzard was over.
Moving carefully, she eased out from under the covers and stood. Her pajamas were where she’d left them on the couch, along with her slippers. She put everything on and walked toward the window.
The temperature dropped with every step away from the fireplace but she kept going, pulled by curiosity. No telling how it would look outside. Yikes. It was freezing over by the window.
Shivering, she parted the curtains and peered out. Couldn’t see a thing through a layer of crackled ice covering the window. Pretty with light shining through it. She’d appreciate nature’s handiwork more if her teeth would stop chattering.
At least snow wasn’t blocking the window, which meant she wouldn’t open the door and find a wall of snow. She wouldn’t have to shovel it into her galvanized tub and carry it to the bathtub.
Except that wouldn’t have worked because the bathtub was full of water. Maybe Pete had intended to put the snow, if they had to shovel it, in her shower, instead. She had faith that he’d had a system in place. The guy had managed to keep the fire going between catnaps.
Rustling from the vicinity of their makeshift bed alerted her that he was awake. She turned away from the window.
“Morning.” He flashed her a smile as he stepped into his knit briefs and pulled them up. If the company that made them could see how he looked in their product, they’d sign him to a modeling contract in a heartbeat.
“Morning. It’s stopped.”
“I know. Realized that when I woke up to take care of the fire.” He put on his jeans and zipped them.
Last night he’d had quite a struggle unzipping them. Her pose on the couch had created an instant reaction. But that was last night, when they’d been snowbound. If the blizzard was gone, they could dig themselves out, rejoin the rest of the world. Maybe that was a good thing.
“Still no power, though.” He picked up his shirt. “We’ll have to—ha! There it is!” All the lights came on—the lamps in the living room, the multicolored strands on the Christmas tree and the overhead light in the kitchen. The heat kicked into gear, too, sending warm air pouring from the vents. He fastened the snaps of his shirt. “The crisis is over.”
“Didn’t feel like one.”
“Sure didn’t. More like a…I’m not sure what to call it.”
“Forbidden fantasy?”
“I’ll go with fantasy.” He tucked his shirt into his jeans. “But I hope it wasn’t forbidden.” He paused to glance at her. “That sounds too much like a one-time thing.”
She walked in his direction, but chose to keep the couch between them. “It’s not, but—”
“Thank God. Because I’m not ready to pretend this never happened. I’m willing to have you set the rules, but I’ll say this right up front—I want to spend the night with you again. And next time I’ll be better prepared.”
His bold statement heated her blood. She almost said tonight, but caught herself. She’d already lost perspective thanks to his wonderful lovemaking and his heroic behavior. She needed to regroup. “How about Saturday night, after the talent show?”
His frown came and went quickly. He followed it with a smile. “That would be great.” He hesitated. “Are you okay with me letting my dad know I’ll be gone that night? It’s not like he monitors my life, but I live there, and Clifford is my responsibility, not his.”
“Absolutely let your dad know. He’s a perceptive man. He’s likely already guessed something’s going o
n between us.”
“I’m sure of it. Doesn’t seem worried about it, either. Unlike my uncle, who—” He stopped abruptly.
“What about your uncle?”
“Not important. Hey, I’ll bet those horses are ready for breakfast. I’ll head down there and feed them while you get dressed.”
“Not on your life. I’m going with you. I’m dying to see what my ranch looks like buried in snow.” She pointed a finger at him. “Wait for me.”
He laughed. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll bank the fire if we’re both heading out. And start some coffee for when we get back, if you want me to.”
“That would be awesome.” She hurried down the hall to her bedroom, where the blanket and comforter were stripped off. She made a quick trip to the bathroom and caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her hair looked as if she’d stepped into a wind tunnel, and in a way, she had. Pete’s style of loving would blow any woman’s hair back.
After dressing quickly in the warmest clothes she owned, she dug into the back reaches of her closet and came up with her Wellingtons. They weren’t Western wear, but they would work great in snow drifts. Last of all she tugged on a knit hat—not the one her mother had made, but a store-bought version. She wouldn’t win a beauty contest in this getup, but she might stay warm.
When she walked into the living room, Pete grinned. “I love that outfit on you.”
“Then you’re seriously whacked. There’s nothing remotely sexy about what I’m wearing.”
“True.”
“So why do you love it?”
“Because you’re letting me see the real Taryn Maroney, the one who doesn’t give a damn what she looks like. She just wants to be warm and cozy.”
“That’s a fact.” She went over to the door and grabbed her parka from the hook on the wall. “And you’re the only one here to see me. For seven months, you’ve arrived at dawn and found me in old clothes and no makeup. There are no illusions for me to destroy.”
“I’m not interested in illusions.” He reached for her. “Hang on a second.”
“What?”
A Cowboy's Holiday (The McGavin Brothers Book 12) Page 14