by Jill Shalvis
Amy shocked herself that night by going with Tucker into town. They sat in the Last Stop Bar and Grill with a bunch of his friends, laughing and talking and—she had to admit—having a decent time. She’d worn the least faded of her three pairs of jeans, and a new T-shirt she’d gotten with her last paycheck. The music rocked, the food was good, and she actually found herself smiling for no reason at all.
“Now that’s what I’ve been waiting for.” Tucker drew her to her feet and toward the dance floor. “Don’t forget you’re having a good time.”
“Oh no.” She dug in her heels. “I’m not having that good a time—Tucker!”
He let go of her hand and started dancing, if you could call arms flailing and legs dancing—good Lord, what was he doing with his legs? He was easily the worst dancer out there, and she clamped her hand over her mouth. Was he kidding?
“Come on.” He gestured she should do the same.
He wasn’t kidding.
Eddie was also out on the floor with two girls. The rest of the group they’d been sitting with was there, too, all dancing together, none quite as dorkily as Tucker, but no one seemed to care what they looked like, only that the music was good.
“If you think I look silly,” Tucker said over the music, “then you should see how you look just standing there with a scowl on your face.”
“I’m not scowling.” But she was, so she smoothed that out first. Then with Tucker still wobbling and hopping and bobbing all around her as he smiled into her face, looking so cute and happy, she rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She swayed. “See? Dancing.”
He laughed. “Is that it? That’s all you’ve got?”
“Shut up.” But she moved a little bit more, using her arms this time. She knew how to dance; she’d spent hours doing so late at night after her father passed out cold on the couch. She’d sneak into his closet and put on the one thing of her mother’s he’d kept, a long, flowery sundress. She’d twirl around in it to the music from her little AM/FM radio, pretending she was a fairytale princess locked away in her castle waiting for her prince. It’d been the only time she’d ever been happy.
So when she closed her eyes now and let herself go, let herself dance—much better than Tucker, she might add—the same emotion came over her.
Happiness.
Callie stood in front of the sink in her bathroom wearing a sea green lace camisole and matching shorts, neither of which even attempted to hide much of her body. Another online impulse buy. Of course the model had been long, leggy and lean as a whistle, but Callie had to admit, having curves suited the set as well.
She knew wearing pretty things beneath her work clothes was a pathetic attempt at feeling feminine in a decidedly unfeminine world, but figured she deserved one little concession to being a woman.
When the knock came at her door, her heart jerked.
“Callie?”
God, just his voice, a little thick and husky, wound her up. Not sure how she felt about that, she reached for her robe, slipping into it before opening the door.
Jake filled her vision, his good arm holding up the doorjamb. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Suddenly a little unsure, she crossed her arms. “You had a busy day.”
“I wanted to introduce you to the real estate agent but you vanished.”
“I was busy, too.” She’d avoided them on purpose. Childish, definitely, but she’d needed the distance. “How did it go?”
“People are pretty spooked over the gossip. They’re saying we’ve either got a mischievous ghost, or someone is after giving the ranch a bad name.”
“None of the incidents are that bad…”
“Missing money.” He ticked off the others on his fingers. “Injury to a horse, injury to horse’s owner, more missing money.” He shook his head. “It’s just enough to scare people.”
“I’m sorry, Jake.”
“Are you?”
She leaned against the opposite side of the door. “I’m sorry it’s giving you trouble, yes. I’m not sorry you haven’t sold yet.”
A smile touched his lips. “I can always count on you for honesty.”
“Always. You got your message from Joe.”
“He said you sounded pretty.” His smile widened. “I told him you were.”
“And he said you’d promised to come and train his next group of recruits.” She didn’t let any emotion tinge her voice, even though she felt plenty. “I told him to expect an ugly puppy along with you.”
His smile faded. “Callie—”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Honest to God she didn’t because nothing would change. “Can you live with that?”
He ran his gaze over her face for a long moment. “I can. For now.”
She moved back. His body brushed hers as he came inside and shut the door, holding her to his side as he lightly drew his knuckles along her cheek. “I thought about you all day. I’m going off the assumption you gave me at least a passing thought.”
A laugh almost bubbled out of her. A passing thought? Try a hundred. “Yeah. You could assume that.”
His other hand skimmed up and down her back over the smooth robe. That warmth he always caused within began deep inside, and she lifted her hand to his chest.
“Another assumption I had was that we’d share your bed tonight.” His voice was nothing but a rough whisper. His eyes were lit with hunger, and more, so much more that it took her breath away.
She ran her hand back and forth over his chest. Beneath his shirt he was warm, hard with strength. “I think that’s a good assumption.”
“What’s beneath the robe?” he asked hoarsely, then unbelted it himself, sweeping it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He took her in with one sweep of his eyes, and groaned. “That’s incredible. Now take it off.” That said, he took care of it himself.
She had every light on in the place, and for a minute felt bare and vulnerable sandwiched between the closed door and his fully dressed form. “The bed?”
He kissed her, then lifted his head. “Too far.” He kissed her again and then again, until she forgot about feeling vulnerable and open. When he scraped his teeth over a nipple, then soothed it with his tongue, she writhed against him while his busy, clever, and extremely talented hands skimmed up the backs of her thighs, exploring between. “Jake.” She let out a shaky laugh. “My legs won’t hold me.”
He eyed her kitchen table, which was only a few feet to the left, then slid his good arm around her waist, lifting her against him as he headed toward it.
“No,” she gasped, laughing. “It won’t hold.”
So he set her down on the counter instead. Stepping back, he began to strip out of his clothes, and she blessed the light she’d just cursed because he had such a glorious body. He pulled out a condom, held her gaze while he put it on. Settling his big palms on her thighs, he pushed them apart. She’d barely taken a breath before one powerful thrust brought him home. And he was home right here in her arms, just as she was in his, which was both simple and terrifying.
Or maybe just simply terrifying.
Two days later, the next group arrived, an eclectic mix of romance authors who from the moment they stepped foot on the ranch were a dream group—happy to be there, happier to help, and happiest grilling the ranch hands for research.
They’d asked for an overnight camping trip, and as Callie liked to do when she had the time, she rode out with them for the day, planning on riding back to the ranch just before nightfall. She loved the interaction with the guests, but loved even more the two hours of sheer freedom she’d get galloping home as the sun set.
Tucker was coming along for only a few hours as well, but he planned on riding back before Callie, wanting to be around the ranch for two of the cows that were close to term. He didn’t want to miss the births.
Jake came along, too, for reasons that were his own. With Stone gone, Amy stayed behind with Marge and Lou, who’d made himself so useful around the ranch fixing and repai
ring and maintaining, they’d upped his hours to full time.
The day was a glorious marvel. They rode along the top of the canyon walls, a set of rocky sheer cliffs rising up to majestic heights, and far below ran the river, still and calm now, as if last week’s storm had never happened. The sky was a startlingly pure azure blue, without a single cloud. As the day warmed, Callie shrugged out of her long-sleeved denim shirt, leaving her in a tank top and jeans. Eddie had stripped out of his shirt entirely, trying to get a tan, and maybe a romance author all in one shot.
Jake wore one of his firefighter T-shirts and his jeans and, she had to admit, was looking good in the saddle. “It’s so beautiful,” she said.
“Breathtaking.” He hadn’t taken his eyes off her.
“I was talking about the day.”
“And I was talking about you.”
She smiled. “You don’t have to give me those come-on lines, I’m already sleeping with you.”
“Not that there’s been much sleeping, but I wasn’t giving you a come-on.” He studied her curiously. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that you were beautiful before?”
“Sure. But I divorced him.”
“The guy was an idiot.”
“No, he wasn’t. He just couldn’t keep his zipper up.”
“Like I said, idiot.”
She laughed. “Count for count, I’d bet you’ve brought home more women than Matt ever did.”
“But I never put a ring on a woman’s finger and promised to be true to her.” He reached for her hand when she looked away, waiting until she brought her face back around. “I don’t make promises often, Callie, but when I do, I keep them.”
She had no idea why that brought a hard lump to her throat. Maybe because, somehow, she’d come to want exactly that from him. “What kind of promises do you make?”
He smiled. “How about as many orgasms as you want tonight?”
She rolled her eyes. Inexplicably let down and annoyed at the both of them, she shifted Sierra so that he had to let go of her hand. “If the subject was getting too serious for you, you could have just said so.” Urging her horse into a trot, she moved to catch up with the other women, where maybe, somehow, she could get her mind off the men who alternately brought her to new heights, and new lows.
Jake watched her go.
“Women.” Tucker patted Homer as they fell in place next to Jake.
He looked over at his brother. “Are we actually agreeing on something?”
“Bro, on the subject of women, all men agree. They’re nuts.”
Jake laughed. And perhaps best of all, so did Tucker. “I thought you had a problem with Callie and me.”
Tucker lifted a shoulder. “I did. Now I don’t.”
No explanation, and Jake knew he wasn’t going to get one.
“Just don’t screw her up.”
Jake looked at Callie ahead of him, smiling and laughing with the other women. He didn’t know how to respond, because he didn’t know how not to screw up.
“And don’t screw you up, either,” Tucker said. On that surprising statement, he said his good-byes to everyone and turned back for the ranch.
The rest of the day went fairly smoothly. Jake helped Eddie and Callie get the women all set up for the night. When Callie prepared to ride back to the ranch, Jake joined her. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Eddie can handle the women on his own. I’m going back with you.”
“I can come up with my own orgasms tonight, thank you,” she said dryly.
“Yes, and imagining that will go a long way toward keeping me uncomfortably hot on the ride back, thank you.”
“You just want a bed tonight.”
“That’s right. I’m not sleeping on the cold, hard ground when I can have a too short, too narrow, cold, hard cot.” Or you.
She snorted her opinion of that, and he began to understand that once again, he was going to have to talk her into wanting him. He hated that, but it wouldn’t stop him, not when he had to have her so badly. He had no idea what that said about him.
They rode in silence. There was a tension in the silence though, and a growing heaviness in the set of Callie’s shoulders that clued him in to her mood, though he had no idea what to do about it.
Night fell as they rode through the darkness, relieved by millions of twinkling stars that never failed to stun him. They just didn’t make skies like this anywhere else. Without a city light or house in sight, he and Callie were completely, utterly alone, surrounded by flowing rivers and wild bush and rocky canyons, watched only by the coyotes and whatever other creatures habited this area. It was awe-inspiring, and more than a little unnerving. He was finally coming to terms with this place, and now he was going to leave it.
After an hour, Callie suddenly slowed to a stop, then dismounted. She tied Sierra to a tree and touched her forehead to her horse’s.
Jake dismounted, too. The only sounds were water rushing somewhere off to their left and the crunch of the ground beneath his feet when he came up behind her. “What’s wrong?”
“I wish you hadn’t come,” she said.
“On the ride?”
A choking laugh escaped her. “To the ranch, Jake.”
He’d lifted a hand to stroke down her hair, but it went still, hovering in the air as the words sank into him like a knife.
Then she lifted her head and her eyes were swimming with tears.
“Ah, Callie,” he whispered, and he let his hand touch her after all.
“Before you, I was happy here.” A tear slipped down her cheek, and broke his heart. “I knew what every day would bring,” she choked out. “I knew what the future would hold. Now—” She broke off abruptly and closed her eyes. “This is useless. Forget it.”
“No, I won’t forget it. I can’t.” He cupped her face. “I never meant to hurt you.”
The gentleness in his touch devastated Callie as his thumbs stroked away her tears. She couldn’t speak.
“We agreed to see this through,” he said softly as the night breeze blew over them. “Through me not being able to work at what I do best, through Tucker and I struggling to be brothers, through you fighting for this ranch and facing all the changes ahead. Just because you’re scared now—”
“And you’re not?”
“Not when we’re doing this.” Leaning in, he kissed her, tenderly at first, then deeper, nibbling at her with hungry bites that took her right out of herself. What happened then shocked her. She felt an overwhelming hunger, a blinding need, and before she knew it they were fumbling for each other’s clothing, hands grappling for purchase right there in the dark with only the running creek for company. He tore open her shirt, she slid her fingers beneath his. Then he had her jeans down, and she had his open, and he’d produced a condom.
Bracing her between his hard body and the even harder tree, he lifted her up and sank into her. He sighed her name like a curse, a prayer, and she clung to his neck, pressing her face against his throat, feeling as if she was going to die if he didn’t hurry, if he didn’t take her now, hard and fast. None of it could be rationalized, not the way she abandoned all sense of shame, nor how much she needed him. She held on while he slid an arm behind her back, protecting her back from the tree, while his other hand gripped her hip, holding her open to his thrusts. It made no sense to feel so out of control, so wild for him, but she was, and with a shuddering sob, she came. He was only seconds behind her, and then his body trembled over hers as he held them both upright with the tree’s help.
Heart pumping against hers, he lifted his head and stroked the damp hair from her face. “You okay?”
She was now. For whatever reason, her anger and frustration and fear had melted away, leaving in its place a warmth and languor that made movement difficult. He helped her right her clothing, and then put his attention to his. They got on their horses and headed back to the ranch, Callie still basking in sated glow. She knew it would fade when the ranch came into view, but for now
she selfishly held on to it and pretended the glow was hers to keep.
20
Tucker and Amy sat on the porch watching the night go by. He felt good, damn good. He’d watched two brand-new baby calves come into the world and he had a relaxed Amy—at least a little—at his side. Only moments ago, Jake and Callie had ridden in, disappearing into the barn to put their horses away before coming back out.
“Interesting,” Tucker said.
“What’s interesting?”
Jake put a casual hand low on Callie’s back to guide her toward her cabin. It wasn’t so much a possessive hand as a protective one, and once upon a time that would have pissed Tucker off, but now he could remember how pretty damn great it had felt to once have Jake feel that protective about him. “They don’t argue nearly as much as they used to,” Tucker noted and picked up his soda.
“That’s because they’re doing it,” Amy said.
Tucker nearly choked on his soda.
“Does that bother you? Or make you jealous?”
“Not jealous…” He studied Amy in the moonlight, looking so pretty she took his breath. “Maybe a little envious.”
She snorted. “Please. You could be getting laid tonight if you wanted.”
Carefully he set down his soda. “Really?”
“There were at least three girls in the bar the other night who’d have jumped you in a heartbeat.”
“But I didn’t want any of them.”
“Why not?”
Because I want you. “Don’t you ever feel envious, Amy?”
“Hell, no.” She shuddered, and wrapped her arms around her bent-up legs, hunching over herself.
His smile faded. Earlier suspicions about her past took root deep in his belly, and he took her drink from her hands and set it down, keeping her fingers in his, even when she tried to tug free.
“I’ve got to go,” she said.
“Not all men are assholes.” He stroked his thumb lightly over her knuckles. “I’m not.”