The Bride Wore Denim

by Lizbeth Selvig

  She checked the cinch after tightening it and made sure her thick bedroll behind the cantle was secure. October had arrived, but she knew how to pack for camping in the cold. There wasn’t any real snow yet, just a dusting on the peak. She’d take her time and follow the trail she knew until dawn. Then she’d take a nap in her pup tent and make it to the top by evening. She’d camp overnight one more time and come home. Maybe she’d have a plan by then for convincing her parents to change their minds. She’d camped plenty of times on trail rides, and her dad and brother were experts. At least she’d show them she wasn’t some baby who shouldn’t have her picture hung in public.

  She zipped her jacket up to her chin and pulled on her fleece mittens. The air was cold, but she’d dressed for frigid temperatures. Even though the slight breeze would be at her back, she knew cold could settle in unexpectedly when you were sitting on a horse. She had plenty of food, like energy bars and peanut butter crackers, along with water in her saddle bags. She knew where the safe streams were anyway. And she had long underwear and a mummy-style sleeping bag in her roll. The idea of her adventure sent adrenaline surging through her veins. She’d wanted to do this forever. Everything felt perfect. And exciting. And only a teeny bit scary.

  “Come on Bungu,” she said, and she lifted her foot into the stirrup.

  COLE DIDN’T REMEMBER the West Chicago neighborhood looking so shabby the one time he’d been here before. Now, in the growing twilight, he could see the unkempt lawns and the overgrown gardens that signaled lack of care on the residents’ parts. Not that he cared that much about appearances, but this was where Harper lived. He didn’t want to think of her in an unsafe place.

  The house she shared with four roommates was better maintained than some of the others, but the stone steps up to the front door were cracked, and the foundation plantings were late fall dry and wildly overgrown. The privacy fencing looked new, however, and although the blue shutters badly needed painting, the white house color wasn’t too old.

  Cole hesitated before ringing the bell and hoped Harper had gotten his text. He hadn’t warned her he was coming until he’d landed at O’Hare. Faith and audacity—that’s all he had on his side after imagining he’d heard genuine longing in her voice the night of Skylar’s big win. He hoped she’d let him in. After that he couldn’t guess what would happen.

  Still, he laughed at the thought of Harpo turning anyone away. She would never have to worry about not properly entertaining angels unaware. Yet another thing he loved about her.

  He pushed the bell.

  The door flew open in fewer than five seconds, and her greeting surpassed his wildest hopes. She was in his arms like an ecstatic puppy, hugging him, peppering him with kisses, burying her head in the crook of his neck, and laughing.

  “What are you doing here? I couldn’t believe when you texted you were on your way from the airport.”

  “You said I could check on you.” He unwrapped her arms and pushed her far enough away to smooth the sleek, flowing dark hair from her face and kiss her forehead and then the tip of her nose. “Otherwise, no excuse except that I missed you, whether you missed us or not. And I came to show you that twelve hundred miles is not insurmountable.”

  She mirrored him, cupping her hands around his jaw and smoothing his cheeks with her thumbs. With a happy smile, she placed a sweet kiss on his lips. “Of course I missed you. I miss everyone, right down to the cows.”

  “Would you like to prove it?” He kissed her back, his heart flying with hope.

  “How?”

  “Let me in?”

  Her laugh added pure joy to his hope. She grasped his hand. “Oh, all right. C’mon, there are only two of us home at the moment. It’s not even chaotic.”

  He entered the warm, eclectic living room, filled with mismatched furniture and bright, bold colors, and waved to one of the roommates, Natalie, watching television in a corner.

  “Welcome back to Chi-town,” she said with a wave of her hand.

  “How long are you staying?” Harper asked.

  “Three days. We finished with the cattle. There were two days of downtime before we start fencing. Leif was going to work on some tack mending, and I asked for some vacation. Gotta leave Friday.”

  “Will you . . . stay here?”

  “I have a hotel room. Wasn’t sure where we stood, so I didn’t presume. We’ll talk about it.”

  “Well, I took over the third floor and spread out to paint. Molly moved into my old room on the second floor. It’s a little more private up there.”

  “Whoa, are you inviting me to see your, um, etchings?”

  She smiled. “No etchings, sorry to say. The space isn’t even very presentable—smells like paint and linseed oil. But you can come up and see what I’ve been working on the past week. Has it really only been a week since I left?”

  “Eight days,” he agreed. Eight long days. “I’ll come up, but please tell me I can take you out tonight. Isn’t this supposed to be the best place in the world for pizza? I’m starving.”

  “Poor thing.”

  “Yeah, they don’t feed you much on planes anymore.”

  “I wouldn’t want that fantastic body to waste away.”

  The light in her eyes flared hot and strong. He wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t fantasizing. This wasn’t the Harper who’d pushed him away and run practically screaming from his arms in Wyoming.

  “What do you know about this body?” he teased.

  “I refer you back to that spider incident again. And I’ve seen the bottom half in a whole lotta pairs of nice, worn jeans.”

  “I’ll be danged. Who knew you were paying attention?”

  She only grinned and led him up two flights of stairs to the open, full-floor room on the third level. “Not presentable” took on humorous clarity when he entered her space. A single bed, thick with blankets and rumpled sheets, stood unmade against one wall. Clothing spilled over the sides of a wicker basket, whether dirty or unfolded he couldn’t tell. In a far corner he took in a dorm-sized refrigerator covered with boxes of granola bars and a basket of bananas and a few other random pieces of fruit. Next to it was a trash can in the same state as the laundry basket.

  Laughter rose helplessly, and he moved to a chair covered in clothing. For some reason the disorder thrilled him. His eyes lit on a scrap of black lace and he bent over. With one finger he lifted the bra off its pile and dangled it like a prize.

  “Now this is the kind of messy room I like. Am I learning something about the real Harper Crockett?”

  He fully expected her to snatch the bra from him and stuff it away; he almost looked forward to her discomfiture. The surprises, however, kept coming.

  “I’m afraid so. I’m a pathetic slob.” She pulled the blankets and comforter carelessly up to cover the bed, which didn’t make it look that much neater. “And that’s one of my favorites. Don’t be stretching it out.”

  His mouth went slightly dry. “Do tell.” He could definitely do a fantastic job of stretching it out given the right circumstances. “I’m not sure this is a safe location for a boy like me.”

  She approached him slowly and ran one finger up the front of his sweater. “Oh, I think you’re old enough to learn about the world, Cole. It’s a girl’s room. It’s just a bra. Most of us wear one.”

  He wrapped his arms around her, and lowered his mouth. The bra dropped to the floor behind her back. “Okay, then it’s you who aren’t safe with me in the room.”

  “That I believe.”

  “Harper, are you all right?” He grinned. “Or is this what Chicago does to you?”

  She rested against his lips for a moment. He shivered when her hands threaded under his arms and clasped behind his back.

  “I am totally confused and happy that you’re here. I know I’m acting crazy, but that’s how I’ve felt since I left the ranch.”

  “That might be the most awesome thing anyone has ever said to me.”

  “T
hat’s pretty sad.”

  “It’s not. It means you miss us.”

  “Not ‘us.’ I miss you.”

  “Nope, I’m incidental. You miss Wyoming.”

  “Say you’ll move here, and I’ll prove it has nothing to do with Wyoming.”

  “Okay.”

  Her eyes filled with the light of disbelief, and she disengaged from their embrace. “Really?”

  “Harpo, I’ve decided I’ll follow you anywhere. That’s really why I’m here.”

  “You aren’t on your way somewhere? You aren’t here to give me news?”

  “I’m here to take you for pizza and then to bed.”

  He’d done it, rendered her speechless, and he grinned like a fool. He certainly wasn’t here to force her. He hadn’t even meant to say those words. But the spark of desire behind her surprise almost chased away his desire for food.

  When she found her voice she used it coyly for the first time. “Well then. With that much to fit in, we’d better get a move on to that pizza place.”

  SHE COULDN’T STOP staring at him.

  Their conversation covered the most mundane subjects, but the way his lips moved around the words, interspersed with sexy bites of Gino’s East deep dish pizza, made cows, dogs, beef prices, and pasture rotation the most scintillating topics ever to be discussed in public.

  He’d asked her if she was all right, and now she knew the answer—she wasn’t. His unexpected appearance had shattered every resolve she’d made about being with him, long distance or otherwise. The sense of perfect peace that settled more deeply into her cells the longer they sat astonished her, and the longing for every ordinary ranch activity he mentioned took her totally aback. Here she was, in the heart of one of the biggest cultural centers in the world, and all she could think about was missing out on watching Skylar’s little border collie learn how to herd cows.

  “Are you even listening?” Cole’s amusement only sent his lips into an even sexier upward curve.

  “I’m watching you,” she replied honestly, propping her chin in one palm.

  “All well and good, but I asked if you want another glass of wine.”

  She laughed. “Oh. Sorry.”

  “So do you?”

  “No. Thanks, but you might take advantage of me if I get any loopier.”

  “I might anyway.”

  Heat in her cheeks had become a familiar sensation over the course of the evening. In fact, he could raise the temperature in her entire body with the most unexpected lines. She’d given up trying to anticipate when those lines might come and why they could be the most ordinary of subjects. She loved the easy conversation. They discussed things the way they might have rehashed an ordinary day as a long-married couple—

  Her thoughts ground to a halt.

  Married?

  The word had never once come into her thoughts, and suddenly she found herself wondering if she could ever marry this man. The notion was insane. And yet part of her believed if he asked her right this minute she’d say yes.

  Ridiculous. She’d already enumerated the problems with simply being a couple. Marriage would be like diving purposely into a pool of quicksand. His hands slipped up over the backs of hers and pulled her again into the present.

  “Can you come back home for Christmas?” he asked.

  Memories from childhood Christmases flooded her and she smiled. The one time when every sister had been equal in the eyes of Santa, and by extension their parents, had always been the heart of the year. It had been the only time her father took multiple days off from all but basic barn chores. Three days—and the hands and their families had all gotten the same time off. Times of actual fun.

  “I’d like to,” she said.

  “Your mom will be home in a week. Joely might be able to come for a visit by then.”

  “How is she really?”

  “No sugarcoating, honey. She’s in rough shape,” he said, serious for one of the first times. “Physically, she’ll be okay in the long run, although nobody knows if she’ll get back the use of her left leg. Her biggest problem right now, though, is severe depression. Nobody can really get her to talk about anything since she learned about the loss of her horse in the accident.”

  “I hurt so badly for her. I try to call her most days, but she can’t talk for long.”

  “Well, keep it up no matter how hard it is. She needs those calls. And if you can tell her you’ll be home in six weeks or so and you want to see her up and about, maybe she’ll have some incentive.”

  A twinge of guilt settled on her. She shouldn’t be discussing the seriousness of Joely’s condition yet thinking only how she wanted to crawl right over the table and the pizza to wrap herself around Cole’s body. How crass was that? But his mix of hard sexiness and soft caring was suddenly irresistible. To make it worse, his hands on hers shot tingles up her arms.

  “She’ll be okay,” he said. “It’s just going to take time.”

  “How’d you get to be so nice?”

  “Am I?” He grinned.

  “Sometimes.”

  “What am I the rest of the time?”

  “Irritatingly attractive.”

  His brows lifted and waggled like Groucho Marx. “Here’s to irritating the hell out of you, Harper Lee.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “YOU HARDLY EVER see this.” Harper leaned against Cole on a bench in a cold, clear park located on three dark blocks outside the city center. She laid her head on his shoulder and pointed between tree tops to the patch of night sky and the pinpricks of starlight so difficult to spot beneath Chicago’s overpowering glow.

  “Rare as the northern lights in Texas.” He stroked her cheek with one finger, reaching across their bodies to do so and enveloping her in warmth and shivers at the same time.

  “You’re bothering me,” she murmured.

  “I was bound to since you wanted to walk to the hotel.”

  “Buses are much slower going. It’s only six blocks.”

  “And you wanted to stop here.”

  “Because you noticed the stars.” She smiled into the dark.

  Without warning he pushed her upright and then pulled her around on the bench until he could tug her leg over his lap. She crawled onto him.

  “Now I’m really going to bother you,” he said and stopped any reply with a hard, deep kiss.

  Her body awoke fully. Liquid heat rushed to the spot where she pressed against him, and a hard shaft of desire drove straight up between her legs and into her stomach. He pressed upward and doubled the shots of pleasure.

  “I admit it,” she said against his lips. “I’m afraid.”

  “Don’t be. C’mon, Harpo. Let go of the silly sister code and believe—”

  She pressed her finger to his lips. “Amelia told me to get over myself.”

  “She did?”

  “She told me to grab you and run.”

  His dopey grin almost made her laugh. “I always knew she was intelligent,” he said.

  “I don’t want to talk about Amelia.”

  “Okay. Why are you afraid?”

  “Because even if this isn’t the old Harper resurfacing, the one who’s only looking for acceptance, it’s a new Harper who’ll like this too much. I still don’t know what I’ll do when you’re gone again.”

  He kissed her in answer, thoroughly, a little punishingly, as if to brand her with something she couldn’t lose no matter where he went. When he stopped he held her cheeks firmly between warm, firm hands.

  “One step at a time. Step one was proving I can get to you, like this, anytime I want to.”

  “What’s step two?”

  “Proving we work together.”

  She rocked against him and moaned as pleasure radiated from her center, enveloping her senses, intensifying, and heating her blood until there was no such thing as a cold park bench or the chance of being discovered. No such thing as fear. Cole was right: one step at a time. He moved beneath her, hard and perfectly match
ed to her body. Her breath hitched and released as every nerve fiber vibrated, and she knew two more strokes, maybe one, would push her over the edge.

  “Like this.” His breath, hot and literally steamy, melted into her ear. “And, baby, if you’re ready to start right here, I’m with you.”

  “I’m not. Ready.” She forced herself to rise from his lap and take his hand. The October night air, crisp and invigorating, temporarily cooled the heat in her body.

  “Harper.” He groaned and stood with her.

  “No. No, I’m not running this time. I just see step two as something completely different. You almost proved three seconds ago how well you and I are going to work together.” Step two is execution. And I’m not wasting my first time in a spot, however beautiful, where I can’t have you all to myself. I’m not sharing you with the cold.”

  “Or that guy over there.” Cole pointed at a man in a flap-eared cap shuffling down the path.

  She sputtered and covered her mouth with a gloved hand. Cole’s chuckle rolled into a belly laugh, and he pulled her to his side, wrapping her with both arms and making her hurry the rest of the way to the hotel.

  FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER Harper drew open the drapes in Cole’s room on the twenty-seventh floor and stared at the neon city, now spread at their feet. The pewter sheen of Lake Michigan glistened straight ahead of them. The whole scene glittered like the stars in the park.

  “This is a beautiful room.”

  “Not anywhere near as expensive as it looks,” he said. “Midweek, one of those hotel-finder sites.”

  “That’s my economical cowboy.”

  He appeared behind her, reflected in the dark window like a dream lover.

  “Am I? Yours?” His arms encircled her from behind, and his fingers laced over her stomach—not dreamlike at all but solid and thrilling.