Thankful for Love

by Peggy Bird

  After he knocked, the door opened wide enough for him to see she was surprised. “Jack? Did you forget something?” She looked back over her shoulder as if to see what he’d left behind.

  “Yeah, I guess you can say I forgot something.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Can I come in?”

  “Oh. Right. Sure.” She opened the door all the way to let him in.

  “I didn’t leave anything. That’s not why I came back.” He took two steps toward her, got close enough to smell her spicy, vanilla scent, see her brown eyes widen, and hear the sharp intake of breath as she registered how near he’d come to her. “I’m here because there’re a couple things I meant to do before I left.”

  Before she could ask any more questions, he put his hands on her shoulders and drew her to him. “The first thing I meant to do was this.” He lowered his head and touched his mouth to hers. It took all the discipline he could muster to keep from crushing her against him and kissing her with everything he’d been trying to hide, to control, for the past months. He was sure his hands were shaking with the effort.

  But he needed her to want the kiss as much as he did. He wanted to persuade her, not pounce on her. When she relaxed against him, he knew he’d done the right thing.

  The soft, almost weightless kisses he trailed from her mouth to her jaw and down to the pulse in her throat, elicited a soft moan from her, and her arms went around his neck. Taking it as a sign she wanted the kiss, too, he returned to her mouth, nipped at her bottom lip, then, with the tip of his tongue, explored the seam of her lips.

  She responded by opening to him, letting him deepen the kiss. His tongue explored her mouth, joined with her tongue in a slick, sliding, sensuous dance. She pressed herself against him; he couldn’t hide the evidence of his arousal. Didn’t want to hide it any longer. He wanted her to know exactly what she did to him.

  For what seemed to be long minutes, they stood locked in an embrace while they learned the taste and texture of each other’s mouth and while their bodies began to find the ways they fit together.

  She broke from the kiss first. Although she kept her arms around his neck and her body pressed against his, she drew back far enough to take a deep breath.

  He needed to have more contact with her so he touched his forehead to hers. “Should I apologize for that?”

  She smiled. “Not unless you think you didn’t do it right.”

  “I’ll let you decide if I did or didn’t.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “But keep in mind, I’ve been out of practice for a while. Although from the way it took me two tries to actually kiss you, you probably figured that out.”

  “I find it hard to believe you’re out of practice when you’re so good at it.”

  “I’ve wanted to kiss you for weeks. But I wasn’t sure if I should. I mean, I don’t want you to feel awkward about it.”

  “Awkward isn’t the word I’d use to describe how I feel right now.”

  Since he could feel the hard tips of her breasts against his chest and the rest of her body continued to be pressed against his, he thought he might know how she felt. Still, he wanted to hear her say the words to let him know she liked it. “How do you feel?” he asked.

  “Happy. I’ve wanted this for weeks, too.”

  With every word she spoke, his anxiety faded even more.

  “You said there were two things you forgot,” she continued. “After the first one, I’m curious about the second.”

  “Right. The other thing. I was wondering if you’re working Friday.”

  “Oh. You want to know my work schedule.” She dropped her gaze to focus on his shirt buttons. A slight crease appeared between her eyebrows.

  She was disappointed at what he’d said. Which made him unaccountably glad.

  “Did you expect something else?”

  “I wondered ... I thought ... never mind. It’s not important.” She looked up and shrugged one shoulder, as if to be nonchalant. Her expression, which looked disappointed, belied the gesture.

  He was tempted to keep her in suspense, rather enjoying having her off balance instead of feeling off balance himself. But it would be too cruel. “I thought, if you weren’t busy, I could give you the tour of the ranch you got cheated out of when Daniel threw his hissy fit. Then maybe we could, I don’t know, grab a bite to eat?”

  Her smile returned like the sun after a summer thundershower. “Are you trying to fatten me up for some reason? All you seem to want to do is feed me.”

  “That’s not it. I don’t know what you like to do, and since we both have to eat ...”

  “You know I’m teasing you, don’t you? And to answer your question, I’m working the breakfast and lunch shifts on Friday. I’m finished about three.”

  “Why don’t you come out to the ranch about five, then? We can ride for a couple hours and figure out dinner.”

  “Don’t you have to help harvest somewhere?”

  “I should be finished by four, four-thirty. Then I’m free.” He ducked his head and lightly kissed her mouth. “So I’ll see you at five on Friday.”

  Before he could get to the door, she said, “You mean you’ll see me tomorrow, don’t you?”

  “Tomorrow? Oh, right. Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He closed the door before she could react so he didn’t have to see if she was laughing at him for not remembering she was working at the ranch the next day. Because he knew as well as she did, what had made him forgetful was their kiss.

  He jumped into the cab of his truck but didn’t start the engine right away. He hadn’t been adept at asking Quanna out, but what did you expect from a man who had only asked one woman for a date since middle school? In the end, he had not only asked her out twice but he had even managed to kiss her. That, at least, he was confident he’d done right, assuming he was judging her reaction correctly.

  He turned the key in the ignition, put the truck into gear, and headed for the road home. Both he and his truck were on a roll.

  • • •

  Not for the first time, Quanna was nervous driving to the Richardson Ranch. Before it had been about the impression she would make on a potential employer. Now it was about how it would go with Jack after the night before. It was obvious things had changed between them. The dinner date alone and how cute he’d been when he asked her out would have made that evident. But adding the kiss? Big-time change. The kiss was ... well, it was “too” everything. Too amazing. Too serious. Too much what she wanted. Too likely to make it difficult to be around him without wanting a repeat.

  The question wasn’t whether things had changed. It was how much they had changed and, more importantly, for how long and with what consequences. She had fought the attraction for weeks, sure she’d endanger the job that meant so much to her security if she acted. But when he’d kissed her, all thoughts of the job disappeared. She wanted this man in a way she’d never wanted any man before. And if his kiss and his reaction to her were any indication, he wanted her the same way.

  He was an honorable man, an honest man, who had been as worried about what it could mean as she was. He’d never do anything to make her feel insecure. The fact he had been so open about what it might mean said volumes about who he was. She trusted him.

  Still. After the night before, how would they react to each other when they were back in the boss/employee mode?

  She was about to find out.

  Except she didn’t, at least not at first. Once again, Jack was gone when she got to the house. She accomplished the few things she had to do, roasted a chicken and made a pasta salad for dinner for him, and was about to gather up the things she’d left by the front door and leave when she heard the distinctive sound of his truck tires crunching on the gravel drive. In spite of her resolve not to let him affect her, her heartbeat kicked up a notch or two as she watched from the kitchen window while he hopped down from the cab of the truck and sauntered toward the back door. When he knocked on the hood of her car and flashed a huge grin she reali
zed he knew she was watching.

  “I was afraid you’d be gone by the time I got back from my sister’s place,” he said as he toed off his boots in the mudroom. “I’m glad I didn’t miss you. I wanted to ask you to stay and have dinner with me. Assuming you don’t have class or anything planned for tonight, I mean.”

  She’d never realized how sexy sock feet and worn jeans could be on a man. But then, she imagined he’d look sexy to her in sweatpants and flip-flops, basketball shorts and sneakers, or a trash bag and hiking boots. “Feeding me again?” she teased.

  “Eat. Don’t eat. Doesn’t matter. As long as you keep me company while I eat. I’ve been thinking about dinner and you all day, although not in that order most of the time.”

  She couldn’t help it. His words warmed her to her core. “I’d love to stay. Let me know when you want to eat, and I’ll finish getting things ready.”

  “Now works for me. I’m starving. We ate lunch on the run so we could get everything done today. And although I love my sister, her healthy sandwiches leave a lot to be desired.”

  Quanna pulled out the bowl of pasta salad, the makings of a green salad, and the chicken she’d finished up earlier in the day. While she plated their dinners, Jack washed up and put on his Nikes, hiding his sexy sock feet. Just as well. The rest of his sexiness was still quite visible and unnerving.

  “So, did you get everything finished at your sister’s place?” she asked after they were settled at the table.

  “Yup. Her wheat is in. Then the Wilsons, the Salazars, and Doreen Campbell. I’m at the end of the line.”

  “Good crop this year?”

  “Not bad. Price isn’t what we hoped for, but then, it never is.” He had cleared the food from his plate so fast Quanna had no doubts about how hungry he had been.

  She reached for his plate. “Let me get you seconds.”

  “I can do it.” He started to brush her hand off his plate, but when their fingers connected, the jolt she felt was considerable. He must have felt it, too, because he looked up, his eyes all pupil. But he didn’t pull his hand away. “I should know better, shouldn’t I? Touching you does the damnedest things to me.” He squeezed her hand before picking up his plate and heading for the kitchen.

  She was left speechless, completely uninterested in food, and feeling almost as high as if she had been drinking wine.

  • • •

  It wasn’t until he saw the pile of pasta salad he’d mindlessly heaped on his plate that Jack realized he wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing. In fact, he was thinking, again, as he had been all day, about the kiss from the night before. The zing of electricity that had hit him when their hands had touched just now reminded him of how powerful it had been.

  He returned half the salad to the serving bowl, added a couple slices of chicken to his plate, and took a few moments to compose himself. Then he returned to the dining room. Quanna was picking at her food.

  “Did I insist on eating too early?”

  “No, the time’s fine. I guess I tasted too much while I was cooking. I’m not very hungry.”

  She wasn’t looking directly at him, which was unusual for her. And he was pretty sure she’d tucked into the food with enthusiasm when they’d first sat down at the table.

  She was reacting to the connection they’d just felt, and he was glad.

  Later, he couldn’t remember what they talked about for the rest of the meal. All he knew was he ate his second plateful of food and Quanna eventually ate most of what she’d dished up for herself. They cleared away the dishes when they were finished, and he loaded the dishwasher while she made a pot of coffee.

  She was fussing with mugs and the sugar bowl when she said, “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

  “Fire away.” He couldn’t think of anything she could ask that would be too intrusive to answer.

  “When I was putting clean towels in the bathroom upstairs, I noticed the picture on your bureau is gone. Why did you move it?” She turned around to look at him while he answered.

  The question was surprising, although it shouldn’t have been. He was sure she knew exactly where everything in the house was. “I put it away when I got back from Portland.” He shrugged. “My brother said something to me when I was there about knowing when it was time to move on. I’ve been at that point for a while now, but I hadn’t done anything about it. Didn’t have a reason to, I guess.” He stopped before he could talk himself into a corner he wasn’t sure he was ready to be in yet.

  “But the boys ...”

  “The photos of Paula with the kids are still around and will be. But that one, well, I needed to let it go.”

  “Even though it’s still her room, too?”

  “The one thing I did after she died was to completely redo the bedroom. I couldn’t face sleeping in what had been a sickroom and a deathbed, but I didn’t want to change rooms. I moved out all the furniture, repainted, bought a new bed and linens. Made it only and completely mine.” He tried to control the grin that was threatening to break out at the thought that she cared about this particular subject. “That answer your question?”

  “Yes. Thank you. I apologize for being curious.”

  “You shouldn’t. If anyone has a right to know, you do.”

  He expected her to ask why he thought she had the right, but she didn’t. Instead, she poured coffee. Without asking, she added the two sugars he took in his before handing him the mug.

  “About tomorrow ...” she began.

  “I thought we’d ride around the ranch for a couple hours then have a picnic dinner out by the pond.” He motioned to her to follow him into the living room where they settled onto the couch.

  “What can I contribute to dinner?” she asked.

  He laughed. “I think you’ve got it covered already. I was planning on bringing whatever you’ve left in the refrigerator for me.”

  “I could bake brownies. Or chocolate chip cookies, if you’d like.”

  “Now who’s trying to fatten up whom? Thanks, but the fruit in the kitchen will be fine. Save the brownies and cookies to bribe the boys when they come home.”

  “Did you hear from them today? What are they up to?” she asked.

  While they finished their coffee, he gave her a report on his sons’ latest activities. She seemed relieved at the less emotional topic of conversation. When the report was over and the coffee cups were empty, she started to gather them up, saying, “I better get home. My day starts early tomorrow.”

  “Don’t worry about the dishes. I’ll take care of them.” He extended his hand to her. “Let me walk you out.”

  She took his hand, and once again, he felt the tingle of contact with her. He reluctantly let go of her so she could collect her purse and a light jacket she’d left on the bench in the entry. As soon as she was ready to leave, he took her hand again, gently rubbing his thumb over hers as they walked to her car.

  “See you tomorrow after your shift,” he said.

  “Yes. And thanks for dinner.”

  “Which you prepared,” he reminded her.

  “With your food. In your kitchen.”

  “Is this a competition?” he asked, amused at her insistence about the meal.

  “No. It’s a reality check about who’s responsible for what around here.”

  He ducked his head and kissed her, drawing her against him where he knew she would feel his beginning arousal. “No, that’s a reality check. About who does what to whom.” Raising their still entwined hands, he kissed the tips of her fingers.

  Her face was soft with emotion. Her eyes were huge, dark pools that tempted him to dive in. She swallowed hard and slipped her hand from his. “I better go.”

  He nodded. “Yes. You better. See you tomorrow.”

  He watched until her car was out of sight then returned to the house, which was once again empty. Of life and warmth and music. Of his boys.

  Empty of Quanna, which he was beginning to think was the bigg
est void of them all.

  Chapter 11

  Jack was unloading bales of hay from the bed of his pickup when Quanna arrived on Friday. He leaned against the side of the truck and watched her walk toward him, enjoying the sway of her hips and the swing of her braid. She was in jeans, as usual, but today, instead of a T-shirt, she wore a long-sleeved shirt, the shirttails tied around her slender waist. She looked beautiful. But then, no matter what she wore, she was without doubt the most beautiful woman he’d had the pleasure of watching in a long, long time.

  “Hi, there.” She nodded toward the bales of hay. “Want some help?”

  “Hi, back. Thanks for the offer, but they’re pretty heavy. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

  She vaulted into the bed of the truck and went to the nearest bale. “Don’t let my size fool you. I’m a lot stronger than I look.” With an efficient movement, she hoisted the hay and dropped it into Jack’s arms. He grunted at the impact. She grinned.

  With two of them working, it didn’t take long to unload the truck and move the bales into the barn where the five Appaloosas were stabled.

  They saddled two of the horses. Quanna was to ride Daniel’s horse, Paint, which Jack assured her had been cleared with his son.

  When the horses were ready, Jack pulled his Stetson off a peg and drew it down onto his forehead. “Don’t you have something for your head? The sun’s pretty brutal today.”

  “I meant to bring a hat but forgot.”

  He grabbed a baseball cap from another peg. “I’ll loan you one.” He reached around her and pulled her braid through the hole in the back of the cap before settling it on her head. She drew a shaky breath as he patted the cap into place. His breath wasn’t exactly steady. If he didn’t take a step back, there wouldn’t be a ride. There would be a roll in the hay they’d just brought in.

  He looked around, trying to find something to take his mind off the hay and the woman in front of him. Gloves. He’d get her some gloves. He nabbed a pair, dropped one, picked it up, and offered them to her. “Want these? They’re an extra pair of mine so they’ll be a bit big. But the kids’ would be too small. Afraid we don’t have any that’re just right, Goldilocks.”