by Jodi Thomas
Dan’s kiss turned tender as his hand moved under her sweater and spread out along her bare skin. The wool was soft and her skin warm beneath it.
The kiss grew hot, but he couldn’t get close enough to her. Not here where both knew they might be discovered or overheard.
Finally, he ended the kiss and whispered, “This is torture, not being able to undress you. I want to feel all of you next to all of me.”
“I know. You’re reading my mind.”
He buried his face in her hair and simply breathed. A minute later she was fighting to unbutton his shirt.
With effort, he put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her gently away. “We can’t do this. I’m afraid I’ll go too far and when the text comes in, you’ll be running up the stairs half-naked.”
She laughed. “But I don’t want to leave until we have to. I want to be alone with you for whatever time we can steal. I need to be near you. One time sleeping with you will never be enough.”
He led her to a tiny bay window with a bench barely big enough for two. Dusty lace curtains let in the light but hid them from view. “How about we talk?”
He sat and pulled her beside him with her long legs draping over his knees. They were close; that would have to be enough for now.
“Tell me about what you were like as a kid,” he said as he held her in his arms. Enough for now, he told himself.
She laughed. “This sounds like a first date. Don’t you think we’re a little late for that?”
“If we’re going to steal a few minutes, let’s make it a happy time.” He moved his hand along her leg. “Talk to me, Brandi, about anything.”
“All right. I was raised on a small ranch in Wyoming. You can’t get any happier than that. My father was good man, but distant. After my mother died when I was fourteen, he became very strict. My brothers were already grown, but my sister and I rebelled. I ran away with a band, and she married young.”
“That’s not a happy memory, Brandi. Try again.”
“I’ll try.” She looked like she was concentrating so hard it made him laugh, and he kissed her on the nose.
She brightened. “I used to have a pig named Pepper.”
“Pepper?”
She nodded. “My brother said every time he saw the pig he wanted to say pass the salt and pepper.”
Dan laughed. “What happened to Pepper?”
“I don’t know. I was five at the time. My dad said he ran off and got married, but my brother claimed he went to freezer camp. That fall I got my first horse and forgot all about the pig.”
“So you were a cowgirl?”
“Not really. As my dad bought more and more land, it became a business, and our home became a headquarters with a dozen houses around it. My sister and her husband still live on the place. He’s the ranch foreman now.” She looked at him with her winter green eyes and whispered, “I don’t want to talk anymore, Dan.”
She shifted and sat facing him, her long legs folded on either side of him.
“What are you doing, Brandi?”
“I’m going to drive you wild with my clothes on.”
And she did.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
TESS HAD NO faith in Thatcher’s diagnosis of Cody having Sleeping Beauty Fever. But she wasn’t sure. That was the problem with homeschooled kids who went away to college and lived alone: their bullshit radar was broken.
She couldn’t tell when she was being conned, even by a beat-up teenager. She didn’t understand men either, and at twenty-seven years old she should definitely understand men. It was like she was raised on Mars and at mating age been tossed back to Earth.
Once in college a guy told her on the third date that he loved her. She liked him, too, and thought it was all right to talk about getting married. He ran off so fast he left his car parked in front of the dorm for three days.
The other park rangers were all in their forties or fifties and treated her like a little sister.
She hated that, too. She knew her job. She was an equal, not someone who needed to be given the easy jobs, the boring jobs. If the other park rangers found out she was protecting a fugitive, they’d probably storm the ranch to save her.
Tess walked into the bedroom and stared down at Cody Winslow. Thatcher was right about one thing: what did she have to lose? If Thatcher’s diagnosis and treatment were stupid, Cody would just yell at her. He’d been doing that already. Plus, it wasn’t that big a deal; she’d already kissed him a few times.
She moved to the side of him that wasn’t bandaged and carefully slid in next to him. Nothing new, right? They’d shared a pillow before.
For a moment, she simply studied him in the afternoon light streaming through the dirty window.
Begin new list. Clean windows.
Tess mentally slapped herself. Get back to the problem at hand. Curing Cody.
He had a week’s growth or more of whiskers, and his sandy hair needed a cut, but in a rugged way he was handsome. There was a tiny scar at the corner of his lip that almost made him look like he was smiling.
Her fingers gently brushed his hair off his forehead. That night when she’d found him in the canyon, she’d thought his hair was mud brown. When she’d checked his ribs, he’d asked her if he could touch her sometime, just to check for broken ribs, of course. She’d said yes, knowing it was a joke.
Even when they were yelling at each other, Cody was never cruel; in fact, she’d caught him smiling at her when she shot back. Maybe she could try to convince Thatcher that she and Cody were simply talking to each other at full volume.
She looked down, seeing the man this time and not the wounded Texas Ranger. He was lean, broad shouldered. When his eyes were closed, she didn’t see the anger, the pain he carried. Sleeping, he looked younger.
Without thinking about it, she moved above him and lightly rested the upper half of her body on his.
Then she kissed him. Soft at first, until he jerked a bit. Then she deepened the kiss and he responded.
Deeper. Wake him up, she thought. Fully and completely awake.
She felt his arm slide around her waist as he began to taste her. His chest rose and fell, moving against her breast as if adding pleasure to an already delicious kiss.
Then, he took control and began teaching her exactly how he liked to kiss. She was lost in the excitement of it all. The feel of him, the smell of his skin, the pounding of his heart. Thatcher had been wrong. She was the one who’d been asleep, and Cody was waking every cell in her body.
His hand spread out along her back and across her bottom. He broke the kiss long enough to whisper in her ear. “I was wrong, Tess, you are perfectly built.” He patted her hip. “You feel so good close to me.” He kissed his way back to her mouth. “I could get used to you, honey.”
She knew she was blushing, but she didn’t want to stop. “Me, too,” was all she all she had time to say before his mouth covered hers.
When he finally broke for air, his fingertips brushed over her cheek. “My whiskers are hurting you. I didn’t mean to do that. I’ll shave next time. Hell, Tess, I’ll shave twice a day if you’ll keep coming this close.”
Just before he kissed her again, he whispered, “We should have done this before, honey.”
She put her hands on either side of his head and pushed herself up. The T-shirt was stretched to its limit. “Are you okay? You know how to whisper? I never would have guessed.”
She felt his laughter. “You were just too far away before. If you’ll stay this close, I’ll never yell again. Kiss me, Tess. I could get used to waking up like this.”
She did, a quick kiss, then she slipped away, feeling a little unsteady. She’d expected a change, but she wasn’t sure she could handle this man any better than she handled the one yelling before.<
br />
“I wanted to tell you it’s time for your shift to watch Thatcher. I have to take a shower.” She needed to get some amount of control back. This was a stakeout and a make-out session. If he kissed him much longer, she’d not only forget about Thatcher, she’d forget her own name.
He didn’t say a word when she marched to the bathroom, but she could feel his eyes on her.
When she closed the bathroom door, she leaned against it and breathed deeply for a few moments. How could a man who seemed so hard and unyielding make her heart pound? If she’d met him before he’d been shot, would she have liked him, or loved him? Would he have even noticed her? Probably not, she reasoned. She had the world’s record for being invisible to the opposite sex.
Or she did. Not any longer. At full volume or whispering, Cody definitely noticed her.
The kiss cure definitely worked, but could she deal with this new Cody? One way or the other she’d have to figure it out for herself. She was not going to ask Thatcher.
She didn’t believe the one man for one woman theory about people looking for the right person. She’d always thought she’d find some man who was compatible, they’d have the same goals, maybe worked together, and she’d marry him and settle down.
Tess had a feeling there would be no settling down with Cody, but she knew she would never settle for less than the man one door away. She’d had a taste of what passion was between two people, and Tess added that to her list of must-haves.
When she finally came out twenty minutes later, Cody and Thatcher were playing poker with beans. Neither looked up at her.
“I hope it’s all right if I borrow one of your shirts. I only brought two uniforms in the few minutes the sheriff let me have to pack.” Her hair hung wet past her shoulders, and his shirt hung like a short dress. She’d packed in such a hurry she had no hair dryer. She did have her flannel pajamas, but it seemed wrong to put them on before dinner. So, she was back in the yoga pants until she had time to wash both uniforms.
Moving close to the fireplace, she began combing out her massive tangles. One luxury she always allowed herself was conditioner, and she’d forgotten that, too. She knew she wasn’t properly dressed, but no one was around, and Cody seemed to be ignoring her. Which was exactly what she was trying to do.
If she looked up and met his gaze, she’d start thinking about what had happened in the bedroom.
At least he’d stopped yelling at her. Now and then he said something to Thatcher that had obviously been met for her to hear.
Tess grinned. Maybe he was as afraid to look at her as she was to look at him. Maybe he thought she’d be able to read his mind.
Pulling her hair back in a ponytail, she decided to start supper. They hadn’t really discussed who did what duties, but she guessed since Cody operated on crutches she’d be in charge of meals.
Which was fine. After all, her mother was a cookbook expert. Cody’s freezer was full of steaks, ground meat and ice cream. She thought a meat loaf and baked potatoes sounded good. An hour later, she’d made cornbread and a salad and delivered their plates.
Thatcher bragged on the meal and had his plate half empty by the time she sat down. Cody looked at her as if he’d never seen her before. Finally, after the silence stretched too long, he said, “You’re a good cook.”
“Thanks.” She sat cross-legged in the chair by the fire. “You want the first shift or the last tonight?”
For a moment he seemed confused, almost as if he’d forgotten why they were both here.
“I’ll take the first. I feel like I slept all afternoon.”
It was odd having him no longer yelling. She was beginning to think something was wrong with him. Maybe too many meds, or maybe she woke him up too fast or too much.
Standing, she said, “I’ll do the dishes and get both your medicine.”
“None for me,” Cody said.
“Me neither,” Thatcher echoed.
Tess ignored the kid. Thatcher’s wounds had scabbed over. “Cody, the hospital sent you home with four bottles.”
“I’m off meds. I had thought to have a little whiskey if I needed medicating, but since we’re on the job, I think I’ll just handle the pain. It’s not that bad. I’ve already been distracted once today and forgot all about it for a while.”
She didn’t want him to remind her that she’d been the distraction. “Fine. I’ll relieve you at 2 a.m.”
Instead of continuing their conversation, she decided to step outside for a moment. While she was growing up, her family always watched the sunset outdoors if it was above freezing. For her parents, it was like a show put on just for them every night.
Tugging on Cody’s boots, she walked out on the porch. The sun had been out all day; it couldn’t still be that cold.
The scene before her was beautiful and so calm. Miles of flatland covered in snow. She could hear the call of an owl far off to the north. The sun made the snow sparkle like a field of diamonds. People thought the country was quiet, but it was not. It was full of sounds; they just blended in with the night like a soft melody playing and shifting through the shadows.
Hugging herself to stay warm, she smiled. Whenever she got out alone, away from towns and people and cars, she always felt she was going home. Her base wasn’t a house, but nature. She’d been raised in the open, and her heart always settled when she returned.
This place. This little run-down ranch felt welcoming. Not because of the house, but because of the stillness. The pure air. The sounds of the earth. Her parents had loved always waking up to new horizons, but Tess had longed to belong. Maybe someday, if she saved and waited, she’d find just the right porch to watch the sunsets for the rest of her life.
She wondered why it couldn’t be as peaceful inside houses as it was outside. Maybe it was in some homes, but not here. Cody had come home angry this morning. He must have been hurting, but it was more than that. He’d accepted the assignment, so Thatcher wasn’t the problem. It was as if he wanted her gone or thought she wouldn’t be any help at all. All his anger had been directed at her. Until now. Now he was ignoring her.
First he’d said he didn’t like the kitchen. Apparently his mother left the paint there, hoping he’d fix up the place. Then he claimed he couldn’t find anything because she’d moved it all. He even complained about the soup she’d made, saying it didn’t have enough salt.
The only time he hadn’t yelled at her was when she kissed him to wake him up, and since then he didn’t talk to her. Men were strange creatures. They never seemed to let logic interfere with their actions. Maybe avoiding men would be wise. She didn’t seem to have the knack of handling them.
Cody bumped his way out the door. She didn’t bother to turn. “It’s too cold out here for you.” He almost spit the words.
“I’m fine.”
Tess squeezed her eyes closed. This wasn’t working out like she planned. Nothing ever did. Her mother was right; she tried too hard, cared too much, did too much before people even asked for her help. She could see herself as a little old lady, running fund-raisers and charity garage sales for every cause, then going home alone every night to her dozen cats.
She could hear the tapping of Cody’s crutches moving up behind her, but she didn’t want to start another argument. He was handsome, a hero for what he’d done, but he was hard man to understand. The wounded Texas Ranger didn’t want her in his house. Couldn’t he see how much help she was? Did he really think, beat-up and on one good leg, that he could take care of the kid?
She gripped the icy railing on the porch, welcoming the freezing pain. Just get through this, she almost said aloud, then get out and get on with her life. The kisses they’d shared hadn’t meant anything.
She needed to just do her job and then leave. Eventually she’d forget the way he yelled at her, the way he’d kissed her with such
passion, the way her emotions rolled through her body when he was near. He was just a man, an almost friend, a coworker, nothing more. This time she wouldn’t make more of things.
Cody reminded her of something her father said once. He’d claimed that some men were born out of their time. Cody would have survived 150 years ago in the Wild West just fine. It was civilization he seemed to have a problem with.
It was strange, she thought, that it was that kind of man who got to her. Not the polished ones, but one who seemed as out of place with the opposite sex as she was.
But he was not the man she thought he was that night she’d helped him. Or even the man she’d seen in the hospital. The one who’d called her honey and asked for a kiss. Or the man who’d kissed her with such passion when she woke him. That man had vanished like the others and been replaced by a stubborn, brooding, bullheaded—
He interrupted her silent rant with a light touch on her shoulder.
For a few minutes neither moved. It was like one soft touch was all he could allow himself, and one touch was all she’d accept.
They simply stood watching as the sun touched the frozen earth and began to spread out the day’s last light over the snow on the horizon.
He cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean to make you mad when I came home and found things changed. I could blame it on the pain or the fact that the sheriff shouldn’t have put you out here in danger, but it’s more than that.” His words were measured, planned. “I can’t decide if I’m just too ornery to live around people or I’ve stayed alone so long I’ve become that way, but having you around has made me think about a few things.”
“I meant to help.” She wondered if Cody was considering the danger of being on guard or the danger of having to put up with him. “I’m sorry I get in your way. It was not my intent.”
His hand gripped her shoulder and turned her to face him.
For a moment, he stared at her as if he wasn’t sure who she was. “Don’t apologize, Tess. Don’t ever apologize to me. None of this was your fault.”