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Alex

Page 9

by Monica Robinson


  When he noticed the perplexed expression on Alex's face, he continued, “Mares are very solitary when it comes to birthing. They'll even stop the labor until they can be undisturbed."

  She couldn't imagine the discomfort Bella must be feeling—to be in labor and resist the process until she could have privacy. She reached out her fingers to allow the horse to sniff her hand before gently rubbing the velvety soft nose.

  She peered at Charlie. “Is the veterinarian going to come tonight?"

  He nodded. “Most likely. Dr. Fletcher knows Bella is due any day now, so he told Jason to call him if anything goes wrong. We're not looking for anything to happen, but it's always best to be certain.” To Bella, he said, “Looks like there's another female on the ranch. Now you won't be surrounded by men anymore."

  Bella's only response was a toss of her head. A few kind words weren't going to pacify her. The mare was uncomfortable and until the foal was born, nothing was going to make her happy. Alex knew how the animal felt. She may not be in any physical discomfort, but until she proved herself in the eyes of those who didn't believe in her, she wouldn't and couldn't be satisfied either.

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  Chapter Nine

  Looks like I'm making lunch, Brett thought with a quick glance at the clock.

  Alex and Jason had left for town close to four hours before and though the offer to accompany them was tempting, he'd declined. Not only was his knee too sore to sit in a truck, but he couldn't allow himself to be that close to Alex. If something as simple as bandaging her hand brought on the urge to kiss her, he didn't want to think about what having her leg pressed against his would do.

  "You're going to slip your knee out of place if you're not careful, cowboy."

  He lifted his head from the refrigerator to see Alex leaning against the doorway, her arms folded lightly under her breasts.

  "And I refuse to take the blame this time."

  He set a head of lettuce on the cutting board and gestured to it with a sweep of his hand. “By all means. If you insist on making lunch, then be my guest,” he replied. “Your father called while you were in town."

  Her smile wavered. “Oh. Well, I'll call him back when hell has its first blizzard.” Her expression brightened again. “So, what did you have in mind for lunch?"

  His jaw slackened. “Whoa. Hang on now. What brought this on?"

  She removed a loaf of bread from the breadbox and set it down before turning to him.

  "It's a long story. Briefly put, he thinks I'm nuts for breaking up with Greg and that I need to reevaluate my priorities. He may be right on the priority issue, but as far as Greg is concerned, my father is the one who needs a reality check."

  Brett frowned. “I don't think you need a priority check.” She lifted her hand in a shrug and his frown darkened to a scowl. “Two days ago, I couldn't get you to make biscuits because you were afraid of damaging your nails. Now you're telling me to get out of your kitchen. If that isn't a priority shift then I don't know what is."

  She set two tomatoes on the cutting board and peered back at him. “It's not good enough for him.” She managed to create a smile he was certain was meant to make him feel better. “Don't let it bother you. It doesn't me."

  She was lying of course, and he wanted to know why. Judging by the hurt in her voice, he could only assume that whatever her father had said still disturbed her.

  "You're lying."

  Her eyes hardened. She wanted to argue. The urge was easy to see, but for some reason, she didn't lash out.

  "So what if I am?” she asked instead. “I'll get over it. That is the truth."

  She probably would. That was the great thing about human nature. A person could endure much and eventually bounce back stronger than ever. It was simply a matter of having self-assurance. Confidence, however, was something Alex had little of.

  "Do you always behave the way people tell you to?” She shot him a warning glance, but he pressed on, “I want an answer to this."

  He was going to end up starting a fight and though arguing with her was the last thing he wanted to do, he was determined to make her see his point.

  "What do you want from me?"

  "I want you to stop caring what those assholes think.” He closed the gap between them, ignoring the pain the movement made. “I want you to believe, no I want you to know, you are capable of doing more than what they have led you to believe."

  Her glare clawed at him, but she didn't move away. “What if I'm not? What good does your speech do me if everything I try fails?"

  "The alternative is far worse.” His chilly tone made her blink. “If you're afraid of failing, then never stop trying. Keep at it until you've reached your goal."

  He grabbed her wrist before pointing to the burn mark on her hand. “This is incentive. This proves you weren't afraid to try something on your own."

  She twisted in his grasp and pulled free before repaying the iron grip on his arm and turning it over. “Is that what your scars mean to you?"

  He flinched at the feel of her nails digging into his flesh.

  "No, I didn't think they did,” she continued. “You view your scars as a permanent reminder of your mistakes. You think of what you were and the regrets you have for taking the wrong road."

  "What do you see?"

  "I see a man who is terrified of repeating the mistakes he's already made up for.” She loosened her hold on him. “I see a man who hates the person he used to be so much that he's willing to fight to his last breath to make sure no one else ever feels the way he did. Even if it means going toe-to-toe on a daily basis with the most stubborn, pig-headed woman he's ever met."

  Brett felt his resolve disintegrate. She was right. God help him, she knew exactly what he was feeling. He didn't know what unnerved him more. The fact she'd been able to read him so easily or the fact that he was glad.

  He snaked his arm around her waist and yanked her to him. “You forgot the most beautiful."

  You're crazy. Yup, he was certifiably bonkers and if he was lucky, the little men in white coats would take him away before he did something stupid—like act on his impulses. Still, every fiber in his being ached to taste her full pouty lips while slipping his fingers in her hair to see if it was as soft as it looked. He was torn. He knew what he should do, but the harder he tried to release her, the tighter his hold became. With her crushed to his chest, he felt her nipples hardening beneath her top and he groaned.

  "Oh for God's sake. If you won't do it, I will.” Standing on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his.

  He ignored everything except the feel of her fingers curling against his neck. He ignored the throbbing in his knee and the possibility someone could walk in at any moment. He concentrated solely on her warm lips yielding to his tongue's gentle urging.

  She tilted her head, deepening their kiss and a faint moan caught in her throat when he slid his palms along her ribcage. Was she giving him permission to go further? For as much as he wanted to slip his hands under that tight little tank top of hers, he didn't dare.

  After several moments, she withdrew. “I'm going to get you in trouble,” she panted. “You've worked too hard for me to do that."

  "Only if someone sees us.” He reclaimed her lips, refusing to let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

  "Somebody will suspect something if I don't make lunch,” Alex giggled between kisses. She withdrew once more and wiped the corners of his mouth with her thumbs.

  Brett's mind whirled. He was an idiot. If Jason found out he'd kissed Alex, her uncle wouldn't hesitate to send him packing. He'd spent the last six years avoiding the state jail, but God it had felt so good to kiss her. A little too good. It was going to be virtually impossible to keep his distance now. He wouldn't be able to look at her without wanting to recapture this moment.

  "I shouldn't have done that,” he murmured. “I'm sorry."

  "I kissed you, so there's nothing for you to apologize for.” She g
lanced at him from over her shoulder with a crooked grin. “And I'm not sorry for doing it. I just refuse to be the source of trouble for you."

  "You are without a doubt the strangest woman I've ever met. You lack confidence in almost every aspect of your life, yet you don't hesitate to assert yourself with me.” He stood next to her and leaned against the counter. “Am I that irritating?"

  "Yes, but that's one of the things I like about you."

  "One of the things?” He grinned at her blush. “You mean there's more?"

  She paused. “I like the fact you won't let me feel sorry for myself. You listen to what I have to say and then you make me try again.” Her cheeks flushed deeper and she busied herself with slicing the tomato. “Not to mention you're a great kisser."

  His eyebrows rose. “Am I now?” Her cheeks reddened more. “I'm glad you think so.” He leaned toward her ear, her flowery scent lingering in his nose and filling him with a sense of euphoria more powerful than any drug he'd ever taken.

  She closed her eyes. “Why is that?"

  He brushed aside her hair and pressed a teasing kiss to the slope of her neck. She shivered and tilted her head to give him better access to the exposed flesh. Her skin was soft and tasted so sweet he savored each kiss as though it would be the last. Which it was. It had to be.

  His lips left her neck and nibbled at her earlobe. “Because I would hate to think I was the only one who enjoyed it."

  He needed to stop. If he didn't end this interlude now, she would be able to tell by looking at him how deeply he wanted her. He was rock hard and that was from a simple kiss.

  Her lower lip trembled when he shifted away from her side. She reopened her eyes and pouted.

  "You stopped."

  Her disappointment sent a rush of satisfaction through him. “For now.” He brushed his lips against hers one last time. “I can't let Jason see me looking at you like this."

  Alex's shoulders sagged. “Because I'm his niece,” she murmured dejectedly. “I understand."

  She might understand, but she didn't like it. To be honest, he didn't like it either. If she'd been anyone other than Jason's niece, it wouldn't have mattered that he'd kissed her.

  "Come see me before you go to bed tonight.” He grinned when she looked back at him. “I haven't told you what I like about you, yet."

  Her cheeks tinted pink in a blush. “No,” she admitted. “No, you haven't. I'm going to hold you to it, cowboy."

  * * * *

  "You are the craziest son-of-a-bitch I know,” Charlie growled. “If Jason saw you kissing Alex, he wouldn't hesitate to put you on the first bus to Hutchins."

  Charlie had seen them? Panic gripped him at the thought of what Jason would do if he ever found out. He peered out the open door of the bunkhouse and then back at his friend.

  "Were you the only one who saw?"

  Charlie hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans. “Yes, you walking hormone, I was. I thought you said she was a praying mantis?"

  Brett ground his teeth. Charlie was going to make sure he ate his words and though he knew he had it coming, the idea irritated him.

  "I did.” He grabbed a fresh tank top from the trunk in front of his cot. When he caught the smug look of satisfaction in Charlie's eyes, he frowned. “All right, I admit it. I like Alex. In fact, I like her probably more than I should."

  Charlie shook his head. “Of all the women in San Eduardo you could have picked, you had to go and choose the one woman who is not only off-limits, but isn't even from around here. She ain't going to stick around after her six months are up and you know it."

  He continued when Brett's scowl deepened, “Still, I can see why you chose her."

  "Oh? Why is that?"

  Charlie lifted his hands in surrender. “All I'm saying is that I see a lot of similarities between her and the way you used to be when you first got here. You didn't know your head from your ass back then and no matter how many times we tried to tell you that you'd get it, you wouldn't listen."

  Brett eyed his friend. “You say the sweetest things,” he quipped while tucking in his shirt. “If you're this nice to people you like, I'd hate to see what you do to people you don't like."

  Charlie folded his arms, a dark grin tugging at his lips. “From what Matt tells me, you just might find out. It looks like we may have a visitor."

  In a more confidential voice, he added, “Someone who knows Alex."

  Brett paused in fastening his belt and furrowed his eyebrows. All of her family and friends were in Maine and he doubted any of them would make the long flight after only a few short days.

  Not unless...

  "Greg,” he grunted. “You're talking about her ex, aren't you?"

  Charlie nodded. “There's no telling what this guy will want, so if you're thinking of hooking up with her, I suggest you stay as far away from this guy as you can."

  Brett opened his mouth to protest, but Charlie cut him off. “This is not a debate. You have seven months left and Steve has less than four weeks. If you get into it with Greg, you're looking at an additional six months to a year. That's not even taking into consideration what will happen to Danny or Matt."

  "What do Matt and Danny have to do with it?"

  There was no guarantee Greg was even coming to the Bar K and even if he did, the likelihood of an altercation was miniscule at best. However, Charlie didn't seem to see it this way.

  "They have a lot to do with it. Jason may have made me foreman, but it's you they respect. Hell, even I'd follow you into the lion's den if that's where you wanted to go,” he argued. “If anything went down between you two, Matt and Danny would jump in without a single thought to the consequences."

  He didn't want to be anyone's role model. He'd screwed his life up to the point of risking permanent damage to his health and if it hadn't been for Jason, he wouldn't have come as far as he had.

  "I'm not leadership material, so why do you guys look up to me? I'm probably the most messed up person here,” he said and reached for the crutches.

  "Do you really want to know?” Charlie asked. “None of us, not even Jason, has seen the things you've seen. You went to the bowels of hell, looked the devil square in the eye and told him to piss off.

  "When you got here, you were a sickly little punk. For someone who only weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet, you had a mouth that wouldn't quit. I didn't know whether to help you or beat the life out of you."

  Brett chuckled. “I suppose I should count myself lucky you chose the former.” He continued with a sigh, “If this guy shows up, I'll keep my mouth shut. He's Jason's and your problem. I'm going to be too busy trying figure out what I'm going to do about Alex."

  Charlie's grin widened. “That part's easy,” he returned. “All you have to do is not get caught."

  Easy? Not being caught was going to be the toughest thing he'd ever done, but if he knew his friends they would do everything they could to make sure Jason never knew.

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  Chapter Ten

  Would you cooperate? Alex wrapped the gauzy window scarf around the new wrought iron curtain rod and blew a strand of hair out of her face. She peeked at Matt who was fastening the new mini-blinds to the windows.

  "Thank you for helping me with the blinds, Matt. I don't think anyone wants to see a drill in my hands,” she joked.

  She'd spent the last several hours painting the walls, polishing the furniture and putting matching slipcovers over the couches and armchair. Already, the living room looked one hundred percent better. She'd chosen colors that were neutral while making sure the material was durable enough to withstand the rough treatment ranch life had to offer.

  Matt glanced down at her and laughed at the mischievous expression in her eyes.

  "Ah, I don't know. I think you just wanted me to feel useful.” He climbed down from the stepladder and dusted his hands off on his thighs. “You're all set. Need anything else hung while I'm here?"

  Alex s
hook her head and rose with the hefty rod in her hands. “Nope. The paint won't be dry until tomorrow, so I don't want to hang anything more than the curtains until then.” She climbed the ladder and stood on her tiptoes to place the rod. “The carpet will be here sometime after nine tomorrow, so I may need a little help laying it down."

  He glanced around at the misty green walls with approval. “You did an excellent job. I'll admit, I didn't think green would look good in here, but you pulled it off.” He gestured to the slipcovers. “That's not real suede, is it?"

  "No, but it looks like it, huh?” she asked and climbed down from the ladder. “After tomorrow, neither of us will have to use a scrub brush to clean the floor again."

  "No, we'll have to shampoo the carpet instead.” He dodged the playful swat she made at his arm and laughed. “What about the exterior of the house? Are you going to paint that, too?"

  The thought had crossed her mind, but she wanted to finish the interior of the home before tackling the outside. “I might,” she replied and gasped. “Oh! Did anyone notice what I did to the bunkhouse?"

  She was especially proud of her contribution to the men's quarters. She'd purchased new linens and drapery along with a carpet runner to go across the length of the structure.

  He nodded, a slick grin playing at the corners of his mouth. “How could we not? I think Steve's comment was that we're now the most stylishly furnished prison in Texas."

  "Texas? I was hoping for the entire US."

  "Wow.” Jason stepped through the front door and peered around before letting his gaze rest on his niece. “When you said you wanted to redecorate the house, you weren't kidding. This place looks great."

  A surge of pride swept through her at his compliment. “You think so? Be honest, because I can always repaint the walls if you don't like it,” she said with the smallest hint of uncertainty.

  Jason ran his fingers over the dark green slipcover and shook his head before giving her a warm smile.

  "No, I like it, darlin'. The boys were just telling me that you were busy in the bunkhouse as well.” He lowered his voice, “You didn't have to do this. I know this cost you a small fortune."

 

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