by Leah Braemel
“Mostly me. Ma never really liked this place—said she never felt like it was her home, that there were too many ghosts here. I figured if she does decide to move back in, maybe a change would help get rid of some of the ghosts, you know?”
She’d always loved the idea of knowing that her mother might have sat in the same chair she was sitting in, or her grandmother, or in Ben’s case, even his great-grandmother. For a kid who had been yanked from farm to farm, from county to county half her life, she’d craved to live in a place with “ghosts” of her past. To have a history all her own. “Has she said she wants to move back?”
“Nah. For all her dissing Gram’s house, I think she likes it there. Maybe because that’s where she was with Pop last.”
Ah, the ghost who mattered the most to her. “Are there a lot of ghosts here for you?” Were they good or bad ghosts? “Do you wonder if your ancestors are looking down, judging you?”
“No.” A faraway look came into his eyes. “It’s home, you know? My great-grandfather was conceived here, raised here. So was Gramps. I was born here—well, in the hospital, but once they brought me home this is the only home I’ve known. Everywhere I look there are memories. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”
Where she’d never stayed in any place longer than a couple years. “Anyway, I figured I’d put my own mark on the place. Knocked out the wall to the spare bedroom, put in a walk-in closet and finally got my own private bathroom for once.”
Sensing he seldom talked like this to anyone, she walked her fingers up his spine hoping her touch would encourage him to continue. “What do you need a walk-in closet for? All you own are T-shirts, jeans and a couple of dusty Stetsons.”
He caught her fingers and pressed them to his lips. “Because I figured one day I’d catch me a wife. Figured a walk-in closet might seal the deal.”
It wouldn’t have taken a walk-in closet to keep her happy if his grandfather hadn’t interfered. “You think the love of a good man isn’t enough?”
“You think I’m a good man?” His question was quiet but she heard an echo behind it. Didn’t he think he was good enough?
“Of course I do. You’re a hard worker and honest to a fault. Any woman would be lucky to have you.” So why was she working so hard to keep a distance?
“Most of the women I’ve dated tell me that at first, then they realize what it means to be married to a full-time farmer, and they can’t get away from me fast enough.”
As if to punctuate his remark, his cell phone buzzed though it sounded strangely muffled.
He reached to his waistband. A puzzled expression contorted his face for a moment then his eyes lit up. “I left it in my pants.” That boyish grin spread across his face. “I guess they’re still in the hall where I dropped ‘em.”
Allie allowed herself a moment to appreciate the very fine view of Ben Grady’s ass before he disappeared from view. He returned a few moments later, his phone pressed to his ear. After kissing her cheek, he reached for a mug and poured himself a cup of coffee, never dropping the phone.
Trying to ignore Ben’s graphic instructions to one of his weekend-farmer neighbors on how to treat a recluse spider bite on their horse that echoed down the hall, Allie opened the fridge door and pulled out the lettuce, cucumber, carrots and tomatoes. While Ben made arrangements for Gabe to go check out the poor horse, Allie thought about what life would be like if she lived here full-time. Most small ranchers these days had to take a job off the ranch in order to support themselves, but owning a spread the size of Bull’s Hollow meant an ideal wife would help out full-time. She’d haul hay and place mineral blocks, efficiently drive an ATV as well as a plough or a harrow. She’d ride out to check on the fencing crews, helping them when they were short-handed—because God knew there was always a fence needing mending. She’d go without sleep for days at time during calving season and then end up in the barn at odd hours, nursing orphan calves. She wouldn’t drive off to a job in town first thing in the morning and not arrive home until ten o’clock at night, just as exhausted as her husband.
While her time with Ben was fun, a mixture of sadness and relief settled over her that when his claim was closed, she’d go back to her job in Houston and leave him to find someone who could put him and Bull’s Hollow first.
* * *
Ben frowned as Allie picked at the salad she’d put together. Something had changed about her when he’d been grilling the steak. She’d withdrawn into herself. “You can have some of my steak if you want. That rabbit crap you’ve got going isn’t going to fill you. You need protein to keep up the hours you’re puttin’ in.”
“This rabbit crap will keep me healthy so I don’t end up having a heart attack when I’m fifty.”
“You got a family history of heart problems?”
“My father had a heart attack my second year of college.” She lifted one shoulder briefly before dropping it. “He could have had more since then, but last time I talked to his new wife, she said he’s told her not to bother phoning me if anything happens.”
Son of a bitch. He couldn’t imagine having a parent who cared so little for his own kid that he wouldn’t even let them know if he was alive or dead.
“When was the last time you talked to him?”
“A little over five years ago.”
Daniels didn’t even know his daughter’s marriage had ended? He hadn’t been there to help her pick up the pieces the way Ben’s father had been there for him when his last girlfriend—the owner of the panties Allie had found—had given him the “it’s not you, it’s me” speech. “D’you miss him?”
“I think I grieved for him as if he were dead for the first couple of years, but now I just don’t feel anything anymore. I know a lot of people would say it makes me a bad daughter, but I couldn’t ever do anything right in his eyes no matter how hard I tried. He refused to come to my college graduation or when I graduated law school. He was downright rude when I asked him to walk me down the aisle at my wedding, even though Lewis offered to pay for his flight.” She lifted her plate and took it to the sink, rinsing it before she put it in the dishwasher. “But every once in a while, when someone talks about their father and how you need to honor your parents, it’s like another dig, you know? Of what I’m missing out on.”
“Call in sick tomorrow.” He had no idea where the impulsive invitation came from, but once it was said, it seemed like a perfect idea. “Spend the day with me. I’ll take you riding.”
“I can’t.”
He lifted her onto the counter and trapped her between his thighs, just like he had on the fence. Lifted her hands and pressed his lips to the reddened skin of her wrists. “Damn it. I need to find something better for next time.” She deserved to be pampered, not tied up with rope. “Next time I’d like to tie your ankles too, so I can get you spread-eagled, have my wicked way with you.”
She made a soft needy sound that shot right to his groin.
Note to self: go online and order some leather restraints. Though if he started viewing online sex shops he’d probably end up having to give himself a hand job. A small sacrifice to make in the long run. Okay, he hated to ask, because he really didn’t want details, but he needed to know what her limits might be. “You’ve never tried being tied up before?”
“Um, not really where I want this conversation to go right now, but no. Lewis wasn’t exactly adventurous in the bedroom.”
Idiot. Allie had been unafraid to try anything when they’d dated. The first time they’d made love had been in the back of his truck, and most of the times after too—what country kid hadn’t gone for a few rolls in the hay? She’d been on board for getting it on with him in front of Logan, and getting it on with Logan too, which he doubted many women would have been so happy to oblige.
What else could they try? He wasn’t exactly into role-playing, though she’d gotten turned on when he’d worn just his chaps that one time. He wouldn’t mind seeing her wearing a pair herself, especially
if he bent her over a table and took her from behind.
The haunted look in her eyes disappeared, and the corners of her lips curled into a smile. “Uh-oh. You’re thinking of all the different things you want to do with me now, aren’t you?”
“Darlin’, you can’t tell me your ex wasn’t adventurous and not expect me to see it as a challenge.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure just how adventurous I am anymore.”
“Says the woman who just admitted she liked being tied up and didn’t object for a second to ditching her clothes out on the porch.”
“That’s different.” She waved her hands in exasperation. “You know what I mean.”
“Not in the least. If you expect me to do it missionary only from here on in, we’re gonna have a problem.” He clasped her shoulders. “You were fearless when we were together, Allie. I loved that about you. You didn’t care what anyone thought about you. You just wanted to have fun.”
“And then I grew up and realized that in this world you need to worry about what people think about you.”
He wanted to call bullshit but she did have a point. “Okay, yeah, so you shouldn’t wander down Main Street buck naked, agreed. And it’s probably not a good idea to get on your knees and give me a blow job in the middle of Carter Valley Bank, but when we’re in the bedroom or somewhere private, like out in my truck the other day, when it’s just the two of us doin’ what comes natural, it doesn’t matter what other people think.”
“Technically that’s true—”
“Of course it is.” If he let her think about it too much, she’d talk herself right back to Houston and her safe unimaginative life. “Tell me you’ve used a vibrator before.”
The prettiest blush crept up her neck, the curse of a redhead she’d once called it. “I may have once or twice, yes.”
Once or twice? “You own one?”
She may have ducked her head but it didn’t stop him from seeing her blush deepen. “Yes.”
“Vibrator or plain dildo?”
Her blush forgotten, she lifted her head to stare at him. “Seriously?”
“Absolutely. Now what toys do you own?”
“I’ve got a selection of vibrators, if you must know.”
A selection. Hot damn, he knew it! If he could have jumped up and clicked his heels he’d have been airborne in a second. The adventurous Allie hadn’t been banished, she’d just been hiding. Lust and need zinged through him as a picture formed of her bound and... “You got any nipple clamps?”
She buried her face in her hands. “Oh God, I’ve unleashed a monster, haven’t I?”
“Nope. Just a red-blooded man, darlin’.”
* * *
The room was completely dark when Allie roused next. It took her a second to remember where she was and then another minute to realize Ben was moving about the room. At least, she thought it was Ben. Without the streetlights she was used to in Albany and Houston, she couldn’t see her own hand.
“Shh, it’s all right. You can go back to sleep for a few minutes more. I’ll wake you when I’ve got breakfast ready.”
She hitched herself up on her elbows and peered blearily for a clock. “What time is it?”
“Almost four-thirty.”
Shoot, she couldn’t even afford a few minutes more. She should have been on the road home long ago. “You can turn on the light if you need to.”
“Nah, I’m pretty good at getting dressed in the dark.”
She’d known he must have dated since they’d broken up—hell from his improved techniques, she’d known it, but she really didn’t want to think of how many women he might have snuck out on.
She rolled over and flipped on the light, taking pleasure in Ben’s groaned complaint. “You coulda warned a guy you were going to turn that on. Damn, that’s bright.”
“Serves you right. You’re the one who woke me up at one a.m. because you were horny.”
Giving a groan that felt like it came up from her toes, she forced herself upright. “Coffee, I need lots and lots of coffee.”
“I have travel mugs you can use. Fill a couple and take ’em with you to keep you awake on the drive,” Ben called as she shuffled into the bathroom.
When she emerged, the bedroom was empty, but Ben’s voice drifted up from downstairs. Wondering who the hell dropped in at such an early hour, she followed his voice to find him in the kitchen, talking on the old-fashioned wall phone, holding the receiver a few inches away from his ear. “You got the AI gun?”
Even from across the room, she could hear the other man’s voice booming through the line.
He gestured to one of the cabinets when he noticed her standing there, miming drinking from a mug. Ah, the travel mugs for the coffee. She grabbed two and filled them from his machine—thank God he had one of those new machines that didn’t have to deal with grounds and filters and wait times for brewing.
“Good. I’ll meet you out there in about forty minutes. Oh, and Dale? Bring the notes we made the other day, will you? I left it in the breeding books—it’s in the top drawer of the file cabinet next to the desk.”
As she placed the lid on the second mug, he hung up the phone.
“Sorry about that.”
She grabbed another travel mug and filled it, handing him one of the already filled containers. “No problem. I’d forgotten it was breeding season.”
“Thanks, and yeah, nothing says sexy like having your hand in a plastic bag up the ass-end of a cow.”
She snorted. “And on that note, I’m heading out to enjoy one of the few perks of city life.”
“Hey. Hang on a minute.” He caught her arm and drew her against him, nuzzling the smooth skin of her neck. The fragrance of his soap and his own scent wound through her head and made her want to drag him back upstairs. “How’d you like to meet me in Dallas on Friday? Have lunch, maybe dinner? Come back here and stay the weekend?”
“Are you asking me out on a date, cowboy?” She wound her arms around his neck, wondering if she could arrange to work from here for the rest of the week.
“Would you say no if that’s what I called it?”
“I haven’t said no.” Damn it, why couldn’t he just ask straight out? They’d had sex four times now—well, seven for her and six for him if you went by orgasms. Which she did.
“You haven’t said yes, either. If you want to explain why you need to go to Dallas to your boss, you could stop in and talk to Charlie about Gramps’ history.”
“Every time we’ve contacted him so far he refuses to talk to us.”
He cringed. “Sorry. He can be obstinate, I know. It’s a Carter trait, I’m afraid.”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “It’s a Grady trait too.”
“Hey, pot meet kettle. You’re stubborn too.”
“Yes, I am.” How had they gotten so off track? “Maybe he’ll talk to us if you’re along. Now about that date in Dallas?”
He blinked. “Oh. Yeah. Well, I’ve got to drop some cow semen off at a friend’s just outside Arlington so I’ll be in the area anyway. I figured maybe we could get a hotel room. Have us a night out. Or maybe stay in and order from room service?”
Her face relaxed into a smile. “So you do want a date. You could have just said that right from the start.”
“I was afraid I might scare you off.”
“I stayed with you when I should have gone home last night.” She tugged on his shirt until they were nose to nose, then pressed her lips against his in a slow drugging kiss that had her wondering why she was in such a hurry to leave. “I can rearrange my schedule. But I won’t make it to Dallas until eleven at the earliest.”
A look of relief flashed in his eyes. “Good. Otherwise I was going to drive down there and haul you off over my shoulder.”
“As a lawyer,” another kiss, this one lighter since she couldn’t stop smiling, “I am required to inform you that those actions would get you arrested for kidnapping or at least forcible confinement, so I r
ecommend you don’t try that action.”
“Oooh, I love it when you get all lawyerly on me.” He rubbed his nose against hers. “Sexy.”
“You like it, huh?”
“Yes, ma’am. I sure do.” He cupped her ass and pulled her so she could feel his burgeoning erection.
“So tell me, cowboy.” She leaned up on tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Do you get a hard-on when Logan talks shop too? Or is it just me?”
“Just you, darlin’. Believe me, I do not get a hard-on around Logan. Ever.”
She released him with a laugh. “I gotta get going before you convince me to hang around and talk shop with you all day.”
He walked her out to her car, his arm tucked around her waist, and insisted on carrying her computer case for her. His expression was serious when he opened her door. “You drive carefully, you hear? If you get tired, you pull over. Don’t try to force yourself to keep driving.”
Her heart ached at his reminders, for she knew he was thinking of the driver of the eighteen-wheeler who’d fallen asleep and crashed into his father’s truck. “I will.”
“Text me when you get there. So I know you’re okay.”
“I will,” she repeated. She lifted up on her toes and kissed him, wishing the door wasn’t between them. “And you be careful if you’re driving any tractors today too.”
As she drove away she watched his image grow smaller in her rear-view mirror and wondered if he’d ever get rid of the ghosts who followed him, or the burdens they’d left him.
Chapter Nine
Four days later, Ben eased his truck between a sleek black Lexus and a shiny black Escalade. His white dually would have fit right in if he’d parked in the public parking lot in Fort Worth, but it sure did stand out amongst the various Mercedes and Bentleys in Carter, Murphy & Scott’s parking lot. As he rounded the truck, he glanced in the back to figure out what had been rattling whenever he took a corner and realized it could have been either the fence post or the shovel, and from the looks of it, the bag of cattle cubes had fallen on its side. Maybe in addition to cleaning out the truck bed, he should have given it a good spray with a hose to remove some of the muck clinging to the wheel wells, too.