She laughed, and it wasn’t just laughter, it was a melodic tune that he found pleasant. It was closer to the woman in the photo, but the brightness didn’t quite reach her eyes. “If they all look like you, I’m sure I can’t complain too much,” she said with a teasing tilt to one hip.
He could almost forget that he had an ulterior motive for staying close to her. Clearing his throat, he shuffled from dusty boot to boot. “Well, just don’t let them fool you. They’re all rowdy to the bone, except for me.”
“If it’s not too much of an inconvenience I’ll stay. How can I ever thank you?”
“My mom loves guests, and if you can tolerate her doting on you, then that’ll be thank you enough.”
****
“It’s a little chilly in here. I’ll start a fire,” Cull said. Monica watched him cross the room to the antique stove, his boots clicking the wood floor. He opened the door, knelt and filled the belly of the stove with the wood he’d brought in from outside. “This thing is real easy to use. Just like starting a fire in a fireplace. Stack your wood, put in a few pieces of kindling and use the lighter. Simple. Just don’t forget to open your flue, otherwise you’ll be smoked out of the apartment.”
Was he talking to her because she couldn’t concentrate on anything but how his T-shirt stretched across his broad back and the way the pockets of the jeans hugged his firm bottom. She felt a little embarrassed ogling him, so she turned away to examine the interior of the apartment, hoping she wasn’t as flushed as she felt. He wasn’t kidding when he said the place was small, but it was comfortable and modestly decorated. Hanging on the wall were a couple of framed photos of horses and cowboys, which seemed quite fitting here on a ranch. She didn’t get to see much except a white fence that surrounded acres of green pasture and several red barns in the distance. “Is this one of you?” She pointed to the photograph of the young man sitting in the saddle, his Stetson pulled low on his forehead. She’d recognize that broad jaw and full lips anywhere.
Cull glanced over his shoulder, smiling. “Yeah, that’s me. I was eighteen and cocky as hell, as if you can’t tell. Call it a genetic flaw.” He stood and swiped his hands together. “Those are my brothers and sister.” He pointed to a picture hanging at the end of the row. “We all were handed that particular gene.”
The picture was of five young men, all looking similar, surrounding a beautiful young woman with dark hair and striking good looks. They were all gorgeous. Monica would say that none of them had many flaws, at least physically. From one handsome face to the next, the brothers all had arresting blue eyes, high cheekbones, and broad whiskered jaws…and muscular bodies. Large, toned physiques that screamed hardworking masculine men. She swallowed against the constriction in her throat and resisted the urge to squirm.
Cull leaned closer, his body brushed her arm. “From left to right. Kace, Phoenix, Zander, Nix, Kiersten, and that sexy, irresistible man there is me.” He grinned and two deep dimples bracketed that sexy pout. She’d give it to him, he definitely was sexy, and he certainly was cocky, but there was also something very sweet and sincere about him. Endearing. They’d had small talk on the drive from Cheyenne, which helped her get to know him a little better. She learned that the Cade men were all lawmen, and so was their sister. Law ran through their blood…another “flaw” as Cull had described it. From the conversation, she gathered he was close with his siblings and although they were scattered and were busy with their lives, they still made time for each other. She also knew that Cull loved horses, of course, had served in the military and was in a self-proclaimed “slump” in his life. What that meant she wasn’t completely sure, but she could relate and why was the mystery.
Because Cull had told her so much already about the family ranch, she felt like she knew a lot. His father Bo and mother Beatrice had lived here all their lives, raised the family on the land, and were now retired.
Noticing a pair of old cowboy boots sitting next to the sofa, she asked, “Uh, I think someone left their boots.”
“Those are mine.” He grabbed them and placed them next to the door. “Ma came in and grabbed my things for me and she must have overlooked them.”
“Were you staying here?”
“Yeah, for about a year. All my things are back over at the main house where I’ll be staying for the time being.”
“I thought this place was empty. I can’t take your apartment.”
“Trust me, you can. Your alternative is the ranch hand quarters. I’ve stayed there a few nights. You wouldn’t get much sleep. Those boys have no manners.” His twinkling eyes told her he was kidding. “The fire is going good now and I bet you’ll want to take a shower. You still have some soot and blood in your hair.”
Self-consciously, she swiped her palms down her hair, realizing she must look a mess. Although she shouldn’t care because she had no one to impress but standing in front of a Greek God wasn’t good for the ego. “You’re right. I’d love to take a hot shower.” Working her bottom lip, she thought of the few items she had in the backpack. What kind of an impression would she make with the Cade family wearing the raggedy items?
He swept his gaze up and down her, and although she didn’t read anything but matter-of-fact in his expression, she certainly did feel a tingling in her nipples and a new awareness between her thighs.
“I’ll come check on you later,” he told her.
“Okay.”
“You have everything you need in the bathroom, and clean linens on the bed. Ma made sure of it.”
“Thank her for me, please. And thank you, Cull.”
“Enjoy your shower.” He gave her a small smile and left.
Monica dropped down on the couch and pressed her face into her palms. How could she ever repay the Cade family for their generosity? She didn’t want to be indebted to anyone, especially when she had no clue if her memory would ever come back. The idea that there was a possibility it wouldn’t made her feel overwhelmed, uncertain. The only person she knew just walked out the door. Although warning bells went off inside her head telling her that she couldn’t rely on anyone, what choice did she have? All she had to her name was a bag filled with clothes that were too large, a can of mace, and a picture of her face…
Standing, she promised herself that she wouldn’t get too comfortable here. She respected the space, and this was Cull’s home. It was obviously a bachelor pad, but tidy and private. Outside of the framed family photographs and shots of the ranch, there were several beautiful sculptures placed around the living room. An eagle perched on a rock. A deer with huge antlers. And the one she liked most was a statue of a cowboy sitting atop a horse. The TV remote was placed on the coffee table and she switched it on. She didn’t care about flipping through channels or even watching, but the noise soothed her. For some reason the quiet made her uneasy.
Stepping down the hall, the first door on her right brought her to the bedroom. With a mixture of excitement and trepidation, she walked across the threshold and the first thing she smelled was a pleasant scent of sandalwood and leather. Cull’s scent. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered and she laid a hand against her chest, hoping the beating of her heart would slow some. She needed to stop allowing her body to respond so easily, so wildly.
Clicking on the overhead light, she saw that the room was decorated like the rest of the house with a few western photos and a couple of statues, but nothing personal. Her eyes were drawn to the big, soft looking bed and a neatly stacked row of matching fluffy pillows. It was inviting and she couldn’t wait to crawl between the covers. An image of Cull, naked, lying sprawled on the bed monopolized her thoughts. She forced her brain cells away from the unsettling image as she left the bedroom and found the bathroom, suddenly needing a shower more than ever.
Turning on the water, she adjusted the temperature, and undressed. Stepping under the hot spray, she sighed in relief. The feeling was pure heaven. This was one of the simplest things in life and she found great joy in washing her hair
with the coconut shampoo and conditioner and lathering her skin with the feminine body wash that she suspected Cull’s mother had placed in there just for her. He didn’t smell like flowers, but had a wonderful masculine scent. Monica also guessed the pink razor and can of sensitive shaving lotion was also added for her benefit. The fact that she hadn’t shaved in a while hadn’t gone unnoticed to her.
With wrinkled hands and feet, she finally shut off the water and stepped out, curling her toes in the soft, blue rug. Reaching for the towel from the stack on the shelf, she brought it to her nose and inhaled the scent of fabric softener. When Cull had hugged her at the hospital this was the smell of his shirt. Everything felt good, smelled good…and she felt welcome here at the Cade’s.
Drying herself off and hanging the towel on one of the empty hooks, she switched on the fan to help with the steam. She swiped a hand down the condensation on the mirror and bent closer to look at the cut at her hairline. It didn’t look as raw, but the black-blue bruising and stitches seemed stark against her pale skin. The doctor said they would fall out on their own so she wouldn’t need to go back and see him unless her symptoms worsened.
She had several other small bruises and cuts over her body, but no recollection on how they got there. Had she fought the person who struck her over the head? An image of a fire poker flashed through her mind and a sharp pain through her temples. She rubbed her forehead, trying to bring other images into her head. Nothing came.
Monica wanted to believe that the poker was from her past, maybe what the person used to hit her with, but in her heart, she knew it was the same poker Cull had used on the antique stove. How would she know the difference between real memories and fabricated ones?
How long would she have to live in the cage of her foggy brain?
Chapter 5
“I WON’T TAKE no for an answer.”
Cull looked at his Ma who was taking a casserole out of the oven. “She’ll only be here a few days and I’m sure she’d rather be alone this evening.” He sipped at the glass of homemade lemonade. No one made it like his Ma did. No one did anything as good as his Ma did. When she complained that he wasn’t married, he always used the fact that she’d spoiled him as a comeback. Although he didn’t like the idea of sleeping in his childhood room with the too short bed and lumpy mattress, he couldn’t bitch too much. He reached over and grabbed a piece from the corner of the noodle dish, which earned him a swat on the back of the hand. “I’m hungry.”
“Don’t change the subject. I insist on those clothes. And dinner. I’ll not have a guest staying at this ranch without joining us. Who do you take me for, son?” Beatrice eyed him through her lashes as she rolled out a piece of foil over the dish.
“She’s only a client. That’s all. She was down on her luck and needed a place to crash for a few nights. Then she’ll be…well, off on her next journey.” He’d keep the details to himself. He wasn’t embarrassed that he brought home a criminal, but he also didn’t have all the information or facts.
“Listen to me, Cullen Dean Cade. You take those clothes I set aside for her over there this instant and invite that gal to dinner tonight. If you don’t,” she waved the wooden spoon at him, “you’ll have to go find your dinner elsewhere, son. Hear me?”
“Don’t you think we’re going a little far by dressing her?” He leaned against the edge of the counter and crossed his ankles. He wasn’t sure what his ma thought, but for Cull it seemed a little too close for comfort.
She snorted. “Is everything she owns in that bag she had on her shoulder?”
“Were you watching from the window?” He lifted a brow.
“Of course. I know everything that goes on around here. I found some of your sister’s things I thought our guest could use. Some even have tags left on them. Now scoot and let me finish dinner.” She waved a hand toward the back door.
When his mother got that look, the one that told him her patience was worn thin, he knew not to argue. So, with his armful of clothing, he headed back across the yard toward the garage to do as his mother requested. Damn, he couldn’t wait to have his own place.
“Where are you going? Aren’t we going to ride?” He was almost to the apartment stairs when he saw his brother Kace riding up on one of the newest colts. “I can’t. I’m busy,” Cull mumbled.
“Busy? Got another criminal to hunt down?” Kace laughed.
“We have a guest staying in the garage apartment and I’m taking her a few things.” Cull hoped he said it as matter-of-factly as possible.
“Woman or man?”
“Woman.”
“Is she cute?” Kace chuckled.
“It’s not like that.” Cull sniffed.
“Yeah sure.”
“Go be with your wife.”
“And you go enjoy your guest.”
“Mind your own business.” Without another word, Cull took the stairs two at a time. He knocked, but he didn’t get a response. Instead he heard muffled voices inside. Opening the door slightly, he saw that the TV was turned on “Hello?”
The bathroom door was closed and the exhaust fan was on. He guessed she was still in the shower.
He’d make this quick and get the hell out. Here was his opportunity. He could tell his ma that she was in the shower and he didn’t get a chance to ask her to dinner.
Cull started to place the pile of clothes on the floor in front of the bathroom, but then movement in his peripheral grabbed his attention.
Oh shit!
He was speechless.
Monica was standing in the bedroom. He started to open his mouth to alert her to his presence when she dropped the towel. Shit, shit, shit! She was naked, and gorgeous. He swept his gaze down her, admiring each delectable, satin curve. An indescribable need washed over him, taking his breathing hostage as his body reacted as it was intended to do. He inflated, and his worn jeans suddenly became two sizes too small. He swore he heard seams rip. Her long, red hair hung in damp coils over her slender, bare shoulders, reaching her perfectly round, firm breasts. Her nipples were hard and velvet pink, matching the color of her pouty lips. He roved his gaze over her flat stomach, taking in the soft flare of her hips until he settled his attention on the patch of dark hair between pale inner thighs. In those few seconds that seemed to crawl by like centuries, he revered every detail of her naked form and he knew then that her body would forever be tattooed in his mind. He’d dream of her—fantasize of touching her.
When he heard her alarmed squeal, he looked up to find her staring at him with wide eyes and open mouth. She reached for the towel and dragged it over her body, covering the treasure of her nudity, but it was too late. He’d already drawn her on every cell of his body. Fuck! He should have done the right thing and turned away, but he stood in his spot, boots glued to the laminate floor, staring while his body was hard and full of lust. Holding his gaze on her face, her eyes were still round and her cheeks were as pink as her nipples. She was as beautiful as the angels an artist had painted on the walls at church. When he was young he’d stare at the paintings and believe they would come alive. Now he knew angels were real.
Get back on track!
Say something, jerk!
“I-I didn’t know you were out of the bathroom,” he said.
“I didn’t know you were here.” The tremble in her voice revealed her inner turmoil.
He knew he should apologize but he wouldn’t mean it, not even in the slightest. Nothing about him was sorry for seeing her beauty in the raw. So instead, he tried for the truth. “I brought over some clothes. I was going to knock, but…I heard the TV…”
“Th-thank you…I should get dressed.” She held the towel so tight against her body, her knuckles were white.
Cull crossed the short space to lay the clothes on the dresser. “There you go. Clothes for you. Ma insisted.” God, how stupid could be? Ma insisted? He turned and took a step into the hall, then he had a thought. He looked back at her, attempting to keep his eyes glued to her face
which was a difficult task. “I have a question.”
Several expressions flittered over her face before she slammed the door in his.
He lowered his gaze to the floor and shook his head. Damn. What the hell had he done? Hadn’t she been through enough over the last few days without her thinking he was a pervert. Knocking softly, she didn’t answer. “Ma wants you to come over to dinner. I’ll understand if you don’t want to. I know it’s a lot to ask, but she’s a damn good cook and you’re probably hungry. We’re eating in about a half hour if you decide to come. Anyway, I gave you the invitation.”
Rolling his eyes, he stomped out of the apartment and down the stairs. He’d screwed up royally.
****
Monica stood outside at the screen door of the house listening to the sounds of family and happiness ringing from inside. She’d gotten over some of her humiliation, but what she now felt was beyond sanity. Why wouldn’t her inner thighs and nipples stop throbbing? Cull had seen her naked. For the last half hour, she’d tried to minimize the fact that he’d seen her nude and that she’d liked it.
Maybe she needed to relax.
She’d go out on a limb and gather he’d seen a woman’s body before. Probably more than one, or two, or three... A man had seen her body too…well, she guessed she wasn’t a virgin, but in the scheme of things, she really had no clue. Sex seemed as foreign as the face staring back at her in the mirror earlier.
What really got her was that she saw something in his gaze, something akin to admiration, when he was looking at her. It had stunned her so much that all she could do was stand glued to the floor until logic kicked in. And she’d slammed the door in his face. Not as much logic at work but pure mortification.
As she stood there listening to the laughter of the Cade family, she wasn’t sure she was prepared to meet them, but she didn’t want to be rude. Cull had said his mother had invited her. How could she not come?
Sheltered by the Lawman (Lawmen of Wyoming Book 5) Page 5