Stevie Lee

by Tara Janzen

  The wildest call brought a wide grin to his face. He reached up to scratch the husky behind the ear, and then lowered his nose to hers. By Tiva’s reaction, Stevie knew he was talking to her, conferring with her in his gravelly voice, and she felt the oddest pang of jealousy. As if coming to a mutual agreement with his canine buddy, Hal laughed and tilted his head back once more. Moonlight rippled through his hair and shone along the column of his throat. Next to his golden, masculine beauty, Tiva’s coat glistened with a silvery darkness.

  The two of them made quite a team, howling up at the sky and playing backup to the coyote, quite a team indeed. They were having fun just being together and being a part of the universe. Their naturalness, their easy camaraderie, brought her own solitude into a sharp and painful focus. Stevie took her hand off the window and brushed at her cheek. She wouldn’t cry for him. She’d work with him. She’d laugh with him. She’d watch him leave at summer’s end—and she’d love him until she forgot how. But she wouldn’t let him hurt her—she wouldn’t cry for him.

  Seven

  If this was love, Hal didn’t know what all the shouting was about. Hell, he’d had a better time dragging himself and a bitchy camel across the Sahara. Not even Delilah had given him as much trouble as Stevie Lee Brown. All his life he’d grappled with Mother Nature’s dangers and extremes, the searing heat of the deserts, the endless emptiness of the ocean, the uninhabitable ramparts of the highest mountains, and none of them compared with the whirlwind of emotions Stevie had sucked him into. He didn’t know which end was up anymore.

  “... and make sure you clean out the beer cooler tonight after closing, or before, if you find the time.”

  An unlikely possibility, he thought wryly, looking down at the black cowboy hat pulled low on her forehead and the wealth of hair spilling over her shoulders. He’d never seen her hair unbound before, and it was prettier and silkier than he’d imagined, strands of gold and brown woven together all the way to her waist, skimming the tight curve of her jeans, begging him to gather it up in his hands.

  Don’t do it, Hal, he warned himself. Another rejection was the last thing he needed, especially in front of the dozen or so regular barflies who were watching Stevie order him around.

  She crossed beer cooler off her legal pad without making a dent in the long list of projects she had lined up for him. “Tomorrow see if you can fix the legs on those other two chairs in the office. We’re going to need all the seating we can get for the Buffalo Barbecue. I’ll get Doug to work on the broken table.”

  With effort, Hal kept his hands and a smart remark to himself. He’d seen Doug’s handiwork. Anything her brother fixed Hal usually had to fix again. For an engineering major, the kid was remarkably klutzy when it came to putting things back together.

  She crossed off chairs and scribbled his initials next to the item. “On Thursday night we’ll all put in an extra hour and make sure the liquor is in order. We’re not going to have time to hunt around for stuff once the weekend starts. The Fourth of July will make Memorial Day look like a cakewalk.”

  Three weeks before, Hal would have cringed at the thought of horrendous crowds descending on the Trail again. But not even Stevie could keep up with him now. Or was that the other way around? Since the night she’d told him of her love, she’d put new meaning into the word “avoid” and driven him crazy in the bargain. Too late he’d realized he’d made a big mistake when he’d conned her into giving him a job. By working for her, he’d clipped his own wings. If she wanted to keep her distance, all she had to do was chalk his name up on the schedule and head the other way. She was getting damn good at both. The locals, he knew, were having a heyday watching him come up scoreless time after time in this battle of wills with Stevie Lee. Fortunately for them, they had enough sense to keep their ribald chuckles and comments to themselves. Hal had fielded them for a while, but he wasn’t in the mood anymore.

  “Okay, I think that’s it for now.” She ran her pencil down the list, checking one more time. “Any questions?”

  Questions? He had a million of them. He started with the one at the top of his own list, hating his curiosity and still not able to keep his mouth shut. “Where are you going?”

  “To The Emporium, to have a drink with Jake,” she answered, for the fifth night in a row. “The number is posted by the phone.”

  “I know where the damn number is.” Hours of steaming around the Trail working himself into a knot had given him plenty of time to memorize the four numbers necessary to dial a local connection. He was getting damn tired of this game—her running off with the crowds, leaving him alone to clean up and imagine all sorts of goings-on down at The Emporium.

  “Good. If you run into trouble, just give a call. I can be back in under five minutes.”

  “I’m already in trouble,” he said under his breath.

  At that she glanced up, but typically not at him. “The guy at the end of the bar looks ready for another beer”—turning her head, she checked out the rest of the room—”and everybody else looks fine. I think you can handle it,” she said coolly, galling him to the core.

  “Dammit, Stevie,” he hissed through clenched teeth, quickly coming to the point where he didn’t care how many people saw him shot down. “You know what I mean.”

  Oh, she knew what he meant all right. Dark circles under her eyes attested to the same restless yearnings that were putting the ragged edge to his voice. In the last month she’d dropped ten pounds she could ill afford to lose, causing her mother to cluck alarmingly every time they met.

  “No, I don’t,” she lied, gathering her legal pad to her chest and turning to leave.

  She got no farther than the two steps to the hall before she felt his hand on her arm, propelling her forward into the office. Catcalls from the bar followed them.

  “Go for it, Hal.”

  “Hold him off, Stevie.”

  “If she turns you down again, I’m still here, honey,” a smoky, feminine voice crooned, jarring Stevie out of her icy calm. She knew without looking who had spoken, the well-endowed, petite and pretty blonde who hadn’t missed a night at the Trail since Hal had started working.

  Common sense told her not to care, but it was jealousy that put the acid on her tongue. “Better be careful, honey. You wouldn’t want to offend your biggest tipper.”

  Much to her surprise, Hal laughed, still pushing her forward through the hallway. The deep, throaty sound rolled over her like hot honey, reminding her of all the things she was forcing herself to forget. “Now we’re getting somewhere, darlin’.”

  “No, we’re not,” she said, stumbling to keep a step ahead of him. Showing any emotion was a mistake, and showing jealousy was the biggest mistake of all. “I’m going to The Emporium, and you’re staying—”

  He swept her into the office, whirling her around in his arms and stealing her breath. “Right here with you, until we work this out,” he informed her with a dangerous glint in his eyes, pressing her back against the wall, trapping her with his body, and pushing her pulse into overdrive. “I’ll fight with you if you want to fight. I’ll make love with you if you want to make love. But I’m through with letting you pretend I’m not here. So what’s it going to be, Stevie Lee?” he demanded. “Fighting . . . or loving?”

  The pressure of his thigh against hers, the sultry roughness of his voice, left no doubts about his preference, and left her scrambling for a shred of composure. One more kiss, and she’d never survive with her heart intact.

  “Fighting,” she whispered, looking at the floor, her desk, off into space, anyplace except into those truth-seeking indigo eyes.

  “Wrong answer, sweetheart. I’ll give you another shot at it.” In one smooth move he slipped her hat back off her head, letting it fall to the floor, and ran his hand down the side of her face, brushing her hair away with his fingers.

  “Hal—” The warmth of his touch raced across her skin, the gentleness melted away another layer of her protective ice. Lowerin
g her guard, she looked up—her second mistake.

  Fathomless blue eyes caressed her face, the lines of strain at the corners softened with each moment his gaze lingered on her mouth. Light from the single lamp on the desk shone through the golden arcs of hair framing his face and sweeping around his collar. Slowly he lifted his gaze and captured a fleeting moment of desire she hadn’t been able to control. A heavy sigh swelled his chest.

  “Stevie,” he drew her name out on a husky breath. “I don’t know why you’re running so fast and hard . . . but you’ll never run fast enough . . . or hard enough to get away from me.”

  “Leave it alone, Hal,” she pleaded softly, even as his warmth and nearness drew her closer to the edge of desire.

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. Just walk away.” She shifted her gaze slightly, not wanting him to see her doubts. She had to get out of there before her armor completely fell apart, before she took what he offered, a night of love, maybe a summer. But not the forever she needed. “I have to go. Jake’s waiting,” she whispered, the lies coming harder.

  His other hand slid up her arm and cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. The dark wings of his eyebrows furrowed above his slate-blue eyes. A pulse of tension beat along the hard angle of his jaw. “If I believed you, even for a moment, I’d let you go.” He brushed his thumb across her lower lip, tantalizing the soft flesh, and his voice lowered to a rough timbre. “If I believed you, Stevie . . . if I believed you . . .” the words trailed off as he tilted his head lower and claimed her mouth with his own.

  His body came up slowly and solidly against hers, overwhelming her senses with the intensity of his need, the power of his arms wrapping around her, the pure eroticism of his kiss. And once again she sank into the sweet valley where reason had no hold. He slipped his leg between hers and pulled her up his thigh until their hips met, drawing her into a higher level of instantaneous pleasure, a stronger level of need, his mouth never stopping the wet, deep searching of hers.

  Stevie gasped at the explosion of sensation he incited with the gentle rocking of her body on his. Shock waves of desire coursed over her in a pulsing rhythm, one after the other, leaving her dazed and hungry for more. Her hands grasped at his shoulders, her mouth opened wider under his, and the rest of her melted into the surrounding strength of his hard body.

  Hal cursed himself for a fool, and still he couldn’t stop kissing her, holding her, teasing her with his hands and hips. A degree of pressure here, a slight thrust there, every move he made brought a whimper of pleasure from her mouth into his and drove him wild. She was hot and soft in his arms, giving as much as she got—and he was giving her everything. Everything except what they both needed, everything except what he couldn’t give her there. He tangled his hands through her hair, and felt her do the same, her fingers tunneling along the back of his neck and holding him for the sweet invasion of her tongue into his mouth.

  He groaned, letting her have her way. It wasn’t enough, it could never be enough. He jerked her shirt from her jeans and slid his hand up inside to cup her breast. The heavy fullness, the satin and lace, set him on fire. He reached for the top button of her jeans.

  “Hey, Hal. I poured the guys a beer, but Arlene wants a Man . . . hattan.” Hal’s head snapped up. His hand stopped just inside Stevie’s waistband. “Sorry, I’ll . . . uh . . . get her something.” The young man backed off, blushing to the roots of his sandy brown hair.

  “Damn,” Hal said tightly.

  “They’re having a management meeting.” He heard the boy explain at the bar.

  “Right,” a masculine voice drawled, his voice easily carrying the short distance into the back room. “I wouldn’t mind meeting with Stevie Lee myself.”

  “Forget the Manhattan, Pete,” Arlene said with a heavy sigh. “I think I’ll head up to The Emporium.”

  Hal turned back to the pale, stricken face of the woman in his arms, on his thigh, wrapped around his neck. Never before at a loss for words, he didn’t know where to begin. He should have stopped, he should never have started. “Stevie, I’m sorry.”

  Her mouth opened, but nothing came out and slowly her wide, gray eyes filled with tears.

  “Hey,” he said softly. “It’s not that bad.” He attempted a smile and failed miserably. His heart was still pounding too fast, his body was still alive with wanting her. He had to let her go, but his hands refused. It took the lone track of a tear over her tawny cheek to convince them. But he no sooner lightened his grip, than she fled, disappearing into the hall before he reacted.

  With a stifled groan from way back in his throat, he slammed his fist into the wall—and he let her go on running.

  Stevie heard the crash of bottles, the sound spurring her to grab her jacket and run through the bar and into the street. On the boardwalk, she stopped, not sure which way to go. Wind gusted up and matted long tendrils of hair to her damp face. Her breath caught in her throat on the continuous sobs heaving her chest. Forget her heart, she’d lost her mind under his relentless seduction. She’d never felt anything like the physical frenzy he aroused and inflamed inside her. She must be crazy.

  She was no virgin. She knew what men and women did together. At least she had thought she knew. Kip had been kind, loving, but he’d never triggered a response even half as passionate as Hal had. The man knew how to caress with his whole body, he knew how to touch her, how to kiss her. Lord, he knew how to kiss her, how to turn a mere meeting of mouths into a sexual experience of the highest order. In comparison she felt naive, even foolish. When all was said and done, Nola was right, her little sister couldn’t handle Halsey Morgan.

  Stevie lowered her head into her hands and breathed deeply of the cool mountain air. If Pete had shown up even a minute later, he would have caught her with her pants down, literally. Acutely embarrassed by the thought, she dropped her hands and began shoving her shirt back into her jeans. Only half-tidied, she put her legs in motion, making tracks away from the Trail, and headed toward the noise and crowds of The Emporium. She wasn’t ready to face herself, not yet.

  * * *

  Hal closed the bar in under five minutes, a new record, and said to hell with fixing chairs, cleaning coolers, and restocking liquor. He needed to find Stevie, he needed to apologize in a way she would understand. It would be nice if he understood himself. Hell, he wasn’t a kid anymore, but he’d come on to her like an oversexed teenager. He’d deliberately not given her a chance. He’d deliberately pushed all her buttons—and it had been so very easy, too easy. The look on her face had told him volumes about her marriage. She and Mr. Dynamite had shared sex, but not lovemaking. In contrast he was demanding everything from her every time they got close. No wonder she’d run.

  The realization brought another more disturbing thought to mind. She’d said she loved him, but from what he’d seen and experienced earlier, it was quite possible she’d confused sex with love. Despite his actions, Hal knew he hadn’t confused the two. He loved her all right, too much to let her muddle around alone with the feelings he’d dropped on her.

  Locking the door behind him, he glanced up the street and saw her Mustang parked a block away. She hadn’t gone home, but that was where he was going. He was through with private talks in public places. Physically and emotionally, he’d reached his limit on interruptions. His absolute limit.

  * * *

  Moving slowly, the wheels of Stevie’s Mustang crunched on the gravel road winding through the trees to her cabin. The moon hung high in the night sky. The stars shone like diamond studs nested in black velvet. At the end of the driveway, Stevie pulled to a stop and lowered her head to the steering wheel. The two beers she’d nursed all night had done little to settle her nerves. If anything, she was more on edge now than when she’d run out on Hal.

  A heavy sigh tightened her chest, adding to the ache he’d left, the one she hadn’t been able to shake. She turned her head sideways and looked down the meadow, her gaze settling on his cabin. The pres
ence of his truck told her he was home, probably asleep, alone in his big four-poster. Another sigh followed the first. She should have stayed in town at Nola’s. Even being this close to him strained her resolve. She wanted him so badly.

  So badly. . . Stevie caught her lower lip between her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut. So badly. She hurt all over with wanting him. The curve of her breast still held the warmth of his touch. Her mouth still felt the loving bruise of his kiss. She wanted to trace every line of his body with her hands and follow with her lips. She wanted to taste the sweet saltiness of his skin on her tongue. She wanted to hold him tight and tell him of her love while he . . .

  “Damn,” she whispered into the silence, realizing she was driving herself nuts. But the images remained strong and clear: Hal’s sun-bronzed body pressing against hers; his muscular legs sliding around hers; a golden mane of hair falling over her face and brushing her cheeks as he kissed her again and again.

  A wave of longing turned her next curse into a soft groan. She couldn’t go on like this. She was bound to burn up. She had a choice to make, a decision, and she had to make it now, or suffer through another night of dreaming restless dreams and turning her bed into a battle zone of sleeplessness.

  Hal had given her one set of alternatives—fight or make love—and Stevie knew she didn’t have the energy for fighting. In her mind, though, she phrased the choices differently—take him or leave him.

  Take him or leave him, Stevie. Decide. She straightened her arms and slumped down in the car, resting her head on the back of the seat. She silently admitted she didn’t have the energy for leaving him. A month of working side by side with him, a few stolen, searing kisses, and he’d left an indelible mark on her untouchable heart. She’d never been more confused in her life, or more aware of a man. He invaded her mind with a powerful ease, filling every niche and cranny, leaving her no peace and no place to go without him.

  Take him or . . . take him, Stevie. Take him and take a chance. Her eyes drifted across the dark horizon and down the meadow to his cabin, and as she gazed longingly at the small house, the door opened.