Don't Hold Back_To Have and to Hold

by Renee Dominick

  Chloe bumped her shoulder from behind. “It’s okay, sweetie. He’ll come around.”

  Jenna didn’t even bother to pretend ignorance. What was the point? “It’s not him, Clo. It’s me.”

  “Well then, you’ll come around. Right now, it’s spa time.”

  Jenna grimaced. “I had the front desk cancel my appointment when I thought I was leaving.”

  “Ha! Natalie isn’t taking hers, so you aren’t getting out of it. Because, dang”—Chloe gave her an earnest nod—“I saw your toes last night. You need a pedi, bad.”

  …

  Rob stuck around the barns after the ride. The ranch had plenty of wranglers to do the work of getting the horses put up, but he needed something to keep himself occupied so he wouldn’t track down Jenna.

  He couldn’t let go of her. He should have let one of the others adjust her stirrups, but he had to check on her somehow. When he’d run his hand up her calf, she hadn’t flinched or tensed, or even kicked him in the head. He’d been prepared for any or all of those. Instead, she’d just sat there, indifferent and limp. He hadn’t known what to do then, and he still didn’t now. Thankfully, Marianna didn’t say no to extra hands. She’d put him right to work.

  He took care of Espanto first, removing his saddle and tack, giving him a rinse at the wash rack, then brushing him down. When he was satisfied the horse was cooled off and relaxed, Rob gave him an apple—one the colt took without trying to bite his fingers off—and then turned him out into the pasture. Then he joined the others to refill the hay ricks and water tubs in the barn stalls and sweep the aisles.

  It was mindless, rote work for him, which freed him up to consider the fact that, at some point between arriving at the ranch and riding down from the hills this afternoon, his head had decided that accepting tenure was an untenable option. Everything he’d experienced since he stepped foot on the ranch on Friday felt like a repudiation of his life choices. He couldn’t stop thinking about might-haves and should-haves, the choices he had, and hadn’t, made, both before and after law school. In the end, the path he’d followed this far left him emotionally hacked. He didn’t recognize himself around Jenna because he’d let himself become so changed, so rigid, not because of anything she did or didn’t do to him.

  Last night, he had gone looking for her, but not for a long time. And when he’d found her, he let the woman at the front desk convince him to let her sleep. He should have awakened her, taken her back to his room. Then he would have been there when she got the call about her brother. If nothing else, she was his little sister’s best friend, and he was in a position to support her.

  All those years of trying to understand what had been so unique about that night she’d come to his room—was it what she’d taught him, how she touched him? Was it just that she’d surprised him, or that she’d taken control to the point where he couldn’t regulate himself? Now he knew. It wasn’t what she’d done, it was the person who’d been doing it.

  To acknowledge that complicated everything.

  Jenna complicated everything. She always had, but that’s what made her so damn compelling.

  Rob took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow. There was no more straw to spread, no more water buckets to fill. He wandered into the tack room to take care of Espanto’s saddle, but he found everything put away and Marianna inside, taking stock. She turned and gave him a small, welcoming smile.

  “You have the obvious signs of a man trying to work something off. Feeling better?”

  “No,” he said with a laugh. “I miss this. Even the spiders, the pissed-on straw, and the grunt work.”

  “Well, here,” she said, throwing some lengths of busted leather at him. “I’ve got some reins that need repairing. You know how?”

  “Not with any craftsmanship. I can cut and weave.”

  “That’s all I need. These aren’t for show horses.” She pushed a box of tools his way. “Unless you’ve got someone…er, something else to do.”

  Her smile made his face heat. “No, I’ve got nothing but time.” He dug in the box and pulled out a thick pair of shears and a rotary cutter.

  “You’re cute, you know that, Rob?” she said, walking out. Her voice carried back to him from the barn. “You managed to make Espanto adore you without even a cube of sugar, you know.”

  He laughed and got to work, cutting enough slits and ends to make three repaired lengths of rein, proud of himself for having only one piece left over. He’d laid his handiwork aside, put the tools back in the box, and coiled the unused leather around his hand, when the full impact of Marianna’s sugar comment hit him like a punch to the head. Jenna might be every bit as difficult as Espanto, but if Rob could earn her trust, she might let him ride. So to speak.

  He paused a moment, considering whether he’d be doing more harm than good if he pushed, or whether he should respect Jenna’s wishes and leave her the hell alone. Whether he was being selfish, or whether there would be something in it for her, too. He promised himself—and Jenna in absentia—that if he got any hint of resistance from her, he’d back off. But he had to try. And he needed a plan. One that wouldn’t make her feel threatened, one that might even surprise her. She had no clue the little kinks he’d explored trying to replicate her effect on him.

  He shoved the piece of rein in his back pocket and hurried over to the lobby, logging on to the guest computer. He found what he was looking for, and two minutes later, he was back in the barn to track down Marianna. “Hey, I don’t suppose there’s a spare truck I could borrow to run down to Coeur d’Alene, is there?”

  Without asking why, she dug in her pocket and tossed him a set of keys. “Blue and silver one.”

  “That was easy.”

  “I hate to tell you this, dude, but you’re both obvious and oblivious. I’m not about to stand in the way of you doing the right thing.” She gave him an arch look. “Whatever that is.”

  “Thanks. I think.” If he pulled this off, he would definitely owe Marianna a nice bottle of something.

  Chapter Nine

  “Oh my God, I feel like a damn cow poke,” Talia complained hours later, as they got ready for the last party of the weekend. “I can’t believe I have to get back on a horse. Even after that massage, my legs are the shape of a horseshoe.”

  Jenna laughed. She didn’t want to ride either. Frankly, she just wanted to curl up in her bunk and not have to watch Rob from afar, but her loyalty to Chloe outweighed her own immature wishes, and besides, her toes did look marvelous. She might as well show them off.

  She could use the test, too. She’d given herself a good talking to at the spa, reminding herself that Rob Lindgren was not, and had never been, part of her everyday life. He was a bug, an occasional glitch. Granted, a glitch whose influence grew exponentially whenever they were in close proximity, but still a glitch.

  She appreciated that he’d helped take some of the weight from her shoulders earlier, but she knew it had been mostly for Chloe’s sake. He’d even said so. And even though he regretted what he’d said in his room, he hadn’t rescinded it. Because you couldn’t take back the truth. Like every passing encounter with him over the years, in a day or two, he’d be relegated to the back of her mind. Tonight she could enjoy the party, and tomorrow she would drive away in her rented car. He’d be gone from her thoughts until she saw him again at the wedding. But that was a worry for another day.

  Thoughts of tomorrow’s drive reminded her of something. “Hey, you guys? Can we not hang up the Do Not Disturb sign tonight?” Both other women stopped what they were doing and turned to face her. “It’s just…I have to drive home tomorrow, now. I need a good night’s sleep.”

  “Not a problem for me,” Talia said.

  Rachel’s face turned a bright shade of pink as both Jenna and Talia stared at her. “No. No problem for me, either.”

  Whoever Rachel had been planning on entertaining a second night, she’d just sacrificed him. Jenna grabbed both girls in a hug. “Thank
you. It would have been a horrible weekend without you two.”

  They went back to the mirror while Jenna dressed in a loose, flowing halter top with a plunging back, black capris, and shoes she had no business wearing on horseback. Talia gave her a 360-degree examination. “Oh, there are definitely going to be drooling men tonight, and not because of the barbequed ribs.”

  “Over you two,” Jenna said, admiring her roommates in return. “You know how to dress for a party. Let’s hope the ranch provides bibs.” Jenna gave Talia a bump with her hip.

  It felt good to laugh, to inch her way back to feeling normal, at least until they got back on the horses and, once again, Jenna had to watch Rob riding easy and looking utterly relaxed the whole way up to the overlook, a wide, flat outcrop of stone above Lake Pend Orielle. At least it had been a short ride, and the panoramic view was totally worth it.

  The amenities at this ranch were nothing like Jenna had imagined. She thought food would be burgers and pork and beans, but the previous night’s meal had been a gourmet affair, and now they were being treated to a martini tasting.

  During the first few rounds, Jenna kept her sips to a minimum, going back to her mission of getting to know the rest of the wedding party better, making sure Chloe was enjoying herself, and ignoring Rob. The first were easy, the last impossible. She kept getting swept up in his intense gaze as she moved from group to group, and he joined her circle of conversation more than once, leaving behind a prickling sensation of his having been there when he’d fade to another group.

  After an hour of it, she felt like a cartoon volcano with a cork stuck in the top. Irritated and ready to blow. He’d managed their adjusted dynamic just fine on the trail that afternoon. Why not tonight?

  Jenna made herself relax when she looked out over the surface of the lake, shimmering shades of fuchsia and deep purple reflected on the water as the sun lowered. Dusk had closed in, and it was almost time to go back down to dinner. In the dark around the campfire, Rob would just be a shadow.

  She wove through the crowd to lean against Chloe while the bartender introduced the next mix. “This has been incredible, Clo,” she whispered. “Everyone’s having a great time.”

  “Everyone but you.” Chloe frowned a little, just enough to make two shallow dents between her brows.

  Just like Rob, Jenna thought wistfully, before swallowing the thought. “Come on, are you kidding? I’m having a blast.”

  Chloe gave her a hug. “Liar. But I’m selfishly glad you didn’t leave.”

  “Me, too. And thank Rob for his help, too.”

  “I’m not thanking him. It was my idea,” Chloe said, her laughing gaze flitting over Jenna’s shoulder.

  “Nice.” Rob touched Jenna’s bare back with cool fingertips, making her jump. “Steal the credit, Chloe.”

  Dammit! After all Jenna’s caution, he had to sneak up on her like a fucking wraith.

  “I don’t need to steal it,” Chloe said, hooking her arm in Dave’s. “It was mine to begin with.” She turned, giving her attention back to the bartender.

  “What was that about a thank you?” Rob whispered, his lips much closer to Jenna’s ear than she expected. His fingers skimmed along the path of her tattoo, from her shoulder blade to where it disappeared below the low edge of her top.

  Jenna reached back and flicked his hand away. “Stop.”

  He did, but not without a caress of her bottom as he lowered his hand. Jenna sighed. Maybe if she acknowledged his help, he’d leave her alone.

  She turned to face him. “I do appreciate everything you did to help with Stephen. He settled right in. I think he’s actually relieved.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. Matt’s got a gift for relaxing restless kids.” Rob’s gaze softened. “Stephen’s going to be fine, you know. He’s got a great sister.”

  “Thanks.” His praise warmed her, but she wished she hadn’t had to earn it. “Anyway…” She fluttered her fingers at him, indicating he could go away now.

  She turned around to listen to the last of the presentation, but he hooked a finger in the drape of her blouse and pulled. Cold air rushed across her low back “Where is the end, again?” he whispered.

  “Rob. You had your chance to see it last night, and guess what?” she whispered back, harshly, giving in to the full breadth of her annoyance. “You blew it.”

  He closed the space between them, his body warming her from shoulders to thighs. “I was busy looking elsewhere.”

  She ignored the dump of adrenaline into her bloodstream, ignored him. Everything else she tried only seemed to be fueling his attention.

  “I know the sound of that shallow breath, Jenna. I’ve heard it before.” He massaged lightly near the base of her spine and ignited a fire that flared hot and sudden between her legs. She jerked like she’d been burned. “See? I’ve been paying attention.”

  Damn the man. He had a calling as a torture specialist, and Chloe was standing close enough to be a threat, too. She appeared to be paying attention to the bartender, but Jenna knew she was listening with at least half an ear. Rob probably knew it, too, the opportunistic bastard.

  “Are you mad at me, Jenna?” His voice had too much lightness in it to be a serious question.

  “Yes, damn you.”

  “Forever?”

  She bit the inside of one cheek, then the other, buying time to figure out the answer that would get him to stop. And then the bartender started pouring, offering her an escape. She gave a twitch of her hip to dislodge Rob’s hand. “I’m getting one of those. Want one, Chloe?”

  Without waiting for an answer, Jenna edged away, desperately trying to ignore the electrical pulses between her thighs and the awareness of her silky blouse drifting over her breasts. The ember still glowed where Rob’s finger had pressed—God, he’d hit that erogenous zone just right.

  Fresh martini in hand, she turned. And ran smack into him. They both leaned away to avoid the slosh, but he grabbed her hip before she could skirt around him and held her there until she looked up. The blue of his eyes was only a thin ring, and for a flash of a moment, Rob was gone. In his place stood his tousle-haired doppelganger. Someone far less tame. Someone with conquest on his mind. Her skin erupted in gooseflesh.

  “Careful, Jenna,” he said.

  And weren’t those two words loaded. “I wouldn’t need to be careful if you’d stop haunting me.”

  “I wouldn’t have to follow you if you’d stop running away.”

  Jenna’s brows flew up, the winding tension in her spine dispersing with his absurd statement. “Oh, hey, Pot. I’m Kettle. Nice to meet you.”

  He pushed out his lips—making them even more of a temptation than normal. “I’m Kettle,” he said.

  “What?” She shook her head. “What are you talking about?”

  He pushed his hands into his pockets. “I have the spout.”

  Jenna’s head dropped back, laughter burbling out of her. “Oh God, you are not allowed to be funny. What are you fucking doing?”

  He pulled her closer. “Breaking a promise.” His lips brushed her temple. “I can’t stay away. I don’t want to stay away. Can we please talk?”

  Jenna’s head swam with the surge of feelings, bobbing and colliding. Lust, sadness, irritation. Craving. Desire. They all swirled together in one big, toxic brew. “Rob.” His name was all she could get out.

  “Jenna.” She had no defense against the imbued way he said her name, especially when he begged her. “Please?”

  She couldn’t make herself say no. It would be a refusal she would surely regret, if only because truth had become her currency.

  Rob took her drink and handed it to Chloe, whose grin as they passed felt mildly mercenary. Rob pulled Jenna along to the heavy railing marking the edge of the cliff, out of earshot, but still in full view of anyone who bothered to pay attention. She could name at least three people who would be. He leaned on the top rail. “Incredible view, isn’t it?”

  He wasn’t looking at
the lake, and she wasn’t biting. “I thought we’d settled this.”

  “I don’t think we did.” He lowered his chin to look back at the party, and in a move so swift she had no time to react, he snatched her behind a giant rock formation, and into a niche, out of sight of the party. He trapped her against the rock, his body unyielding, and cradled her face in his hands. “First. I’m sorry, Jenna.”

  “For what?”

  “For everything. Being a dick, being dishonest, cavalier.”

  She looked into his eyes, swirling with something she’d never seen before. Fear? Uncertainty? “I accept, Rob, but nothing has really changed.”

  “Hasn’t it? Does recognizing I messed up something important count as change?”

  Why did that question hurt? “Yes, but maybe what I mean is, I’m not sure it matters. It’s not changing anything ahead of us.”

  “It matters, and it might.”

  He kissed her, small pecks from her mouth to her ear, from her ear to the tender underside of her jaw and down to her collarbone. Jenna angled her head, giving him access, letting him explore. He murmured things she could barely hear, sounds of satisfaction and need that trickled warm into a hollow space inside her.

  “Rob.” She smoothed the underside of his lip, sucked lightly, drawing him between her teeth, the best way she could think of to get his attention. She needed him to look at her. “I get it, you’re sorry. We’re good.”

  “It’s not just that. I want to rewind. I want you to know, unequivocally, I won’t hurt you like that again, ever.”

  “To what end?”

  “Let’s find out. Maybe nothing, but we can’t know if we don’t try.”

  Eight years of wanting him. She was only fooling herself to think she could erase it over something as predictable as him punishing himself for stepping outside his strict boundaries, even if she was collateral damage. Rewinding wasn’t a terrible approach, and it didn’t come with much risk or downside.