With a sly grin, Matt leaned down and pressed a kiss to Lily’s forehead. “This one’s for me.” Then he left her standing there and walked by Trace, bumping his shoulder accidentally on purpose as he passed.
Trace’s face could have been set in stone as hard as his jaw was set. Lily recognized the tic in his cheek indicating just how angry he was. She’d seen it only when he was beyond angry with his father. Now he was mad at her.
Heat filled her cheeks. She refused to give in to her desire to excuse what he’d just witnessed. He didn’t own her and had no right to tell her who she could or could not hug—or kiss, for that matter. Squaring her shoulders, she spun and walked toward the barn without uttering a comment. Maybe he would be mad enough to leave her alone.
That wasn’t to be. Footsteps behind her made her very aware that he was following her. The roar of a motorcycle engine reminded her of what Trace had just witnessed between her and Matt.
Good. Let him stew on that image.
“What kind of boyfriend leaves his girlfriend to walk into a barn alone?” Trace said. “Especially into a barn where she’d been attacked before. Recently.”
Lily didn’t bother to turn around. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“At one point, you thought he was. You thought he was close enough that he was going to marry you.”
She entered the barn, turning only her head to say over her shoulder, “Apparently, I was wrong.”
“So wrong that he never considered marrying you. Or even considered you as his girlfriend.”
“Yeah, well,” she said, “my bad.”
Trace grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. “Look, I don’t like being lied to and I don’t like being made to look like a fool.”
Anger stung her chest. “If that’s all it was to you, my apologies for making you look bad.” She yanked her arm free and turned away from him, crossing the barn as quickly as she could, putting distance between them.
“Lily Davidson, we’re not done talking,” Trace boomed.
“Yes, we are,” she said. “We were done talking eleven years ago.” She swallowed hard on the lump in her throat, refusing to look at him, afraid that if she did, her love and disappointment would be all too evident in her eyes. She marched toward the steps leading up into the loft.
“What if someone’s up there waiting to hit you again?” Trace asked.
“Then I guess I’ll get hit.” She didn’t slow, too angry and sad to slow. Maybe being hit in the head wouldn’t hurt as bad as the pain in her heart. Lily didn’t care if someone was up there. That someone could put her out of her misery once and for all.
No one was there, but the shadows were deep and dark. She reached for her cell phone, but she’d left it on the counter in the kitchen. Without her cell phone, she didn’t have a handy flashlight to find her way around in the dark loft. Too stubborn to go back down and admit to Trace she’d forgotten something as essential as a flashlight, Lily inched her way toward the back of the loft, searching for the stack of hay where Patches had hidden her kittens.
Was that sound someone moving in the darkness? Her gut tightened. She should have brought a flashlight. A heavy one she could use as a weapon.
A click sounded behind her.
Lily jumped and stifled a scream.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“It helps to have a flashlight when you come up into a dark loft,” Trace’s voice said behind her, and the beam of a flashlight cut through the darkness.
Lily pressed a hand to her chest to calm her wildly beating heart. “I don’t need your help,” she muttered.
“Maybe not, but you need the light.”
Lily didn’t want to agree with him, so she didn’t say anything at all. She did need the light if she wanted to snag the mama cat and get the kittens moved before they stacked more hay in the barn the next day. She continued on her quest to find the cat and her kittens.
When she reached the stack of hay, Lily pulled from her back pocket an old pillowcase she’d found in a cupboard in the house.
“Is that for the kittens?” Trace asked.
She shook her head. “No. The kittens won’t be a problem. Patches was a feral cat that made her home in the barn. Catching her will be the challenge. Holding her will be even more of a task.” She held up the pillowcase. “The pillowcase is for her.”
“I’ll get the cat,” Trace said.
“No,” Lily said, shaking her head. “She’s more used to me than you.”
Trace took the pillowcase from Lily. “Do you have to argue about everything?” His lips twitched. “I’ve got this.” He shoved the flashlight at her. “Blind her with the light. Ready?”
No. Lily wasn’t ready. She wasn’t even sure how this would play out. Before she could utter a protest, he leaned over the top of the haystack. “Shine the light,” he commanded.
Lily leaned over the hay and shone the light down into Patches’s eyes.
The cat stared up at her, blinking in the sudden glare.
Trace didn’t hesitate. He shoved his hand down into the gap, snagged the cat by the back of her neck and pulled her out of her cubby.
Patches screamed, yowled and fought to be free, twisting and cavorting, sinking her claws into Trace’s arm and wrist.
He shook out the pillowcase and placed her down into it.
Lily grabbed the top of the case and closed it tightly.
Inside the case, Patches howled, scratched and hissed.
Blood dripped from several wounds on Trace’s arm.
“You’re hurt,” Lily said.
“Doesn’t matter,” Trace said, his voice clipped. “I’ve got the cat. You get the kittens. We need to turn this one loose before she hurts herself or her milk dries up from stress.”
With the flashlight in hand, Lily eased into the nesting area and gathered kittens one at a time until she had all five tucked into the pockets of her jersey jacket.
All the while they mewed for their mama and she called back.
Trace was halfway down the steps to the loft when Lily slipped over the haystack and started his way. She snagged a section of hay from a broken bale and hurried toward the stairs.
“Tack room?” Trace called out.
“Yes,” she said and hurriedly descended to the ground. Lily passed Trace and opened the tack room door, holding it until Trace came through carrying his wriggling sack of angry cat. Once he was in, she shoved the door closed with her foot.
“I’ll hold her until you get the kittens situated,” he said.
Lily found a corner of the tack room behind the file cabinet that wasn’t visible from the door and would be out of the way, where no one would accidentally step on the kittens. She spread the section of hay on the ground, added a saddle blanket and then eased the kittens out of her pockets, laying them one by one on the warm, soft blanket. Their eyes still closed, they scooted around on the blanket, desperately seeking their mama.
Lily straightened and dusted the hay from her jeans. “You can let Patches go.”
Holding the pillowcase at arm’s length, he chuckled. “Uh, yeah. We’ll see how that goes.” He gently laid the bag on the floor and let go of the top.
For a moment the bag lay completely still.
Then Patches shot out of the opening like a bullet out of a gun. She raced frenetically around the room, testing every corner for a path to escape. Finally, she hid beneath the back corner of the desk.
“I’m going to duck out for a bowl of water and cat food,” Lily said, wishing she’d done it before they’d let Patches loose. “Think you can keep her from getting through the door while it’s open?”
Trace raised his eyebrows and snorted. “I’ll do the best I can. No guarantees. She’s mad and scared.” He grabbed the pillowcase from the floor, positioned himself in front of the door and held it up like
a red cape in front of a bull. “Go,” he said.
Lily darted through the door, quickly closing it behind her. She found the water and food dish where she usually fed the cat, filled them and returned to the tack room. Knocking lightly, she waited for Trace’s response.
“Make a run for it,” he said through the thick paneling.
Stacking the water bowl on top of the food bowl, she freed one hand to open the door. Lily entered, careful not to slosh water into the food. Once inside, she closed the door with her foot and set the bowls on the ground. “Has she come out yet?”
“No.” Trace wadded the pillowcase. “She won’t until she’s calmed down. Hopefully, it won’t take long. The kittens are hungry and telling her about it.”
Lily checked on the kittens. They were mewing softly, nudging at the blanket in search of their mother. “The sooner we leave her alone, the better off she is.”
Trace nodded and headed for the door. With his hand on the knob, he waited for Lily to join him. “On three,” he said. “One…two…” He jerked open the door, shoved her through and closed it quickly as a flash of fur raced toward them.
Lily gasped and ducked out of the way while Trace slammed shut the door.
Collapsing against the door, Lily laughed. “All that for a cat.” She laughed until she held on to her sides.
Trace chuckled. The chuckle turned into a laugh and soon he was holding on to his sides.
When they finally slowed, Lily noticed the streaks of blood on his arm. “We need to take care of those scratches. We can’t have you getting cat scratch fever.”
“I’ll be all right. They aren’t bad. Just flesh—”
“Wounds,” she finished for him. “How many times did you say that when you were on a mission?” Her smile faded and she stood in front of him, her heart hurting. So many times, she wondered where he was on the other side of the world. She’d wondered if he was all right, if someone was shooting at him, if he would live to come back to Whiskey Gulch. Her vision blurred with the tears she’d refused to shed. “Let’s get you inside. There’s antiseptic ointment in the downstairs medicine cabinet.”
He allowed her to lead the way to the house and into the bathroom, where his mother kept a first-aid kit.
Slowly, painstakingly, Lily cleaned and dressed his wounds, smearing soothing ointment over the injury, then covering the larger ones with adhesive bandages.
When she was finished, she couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye. If she did, he’d know just how much touching him had affected her.
Matt’s words came back to her.
Tell him.
That she loved him? That she’d lied to get him to leave Whiskey Gulch Ranch and join the military?
No. She couldn’t. If he’d loved her as much as he’d said he’d loved her, he would have cared enough to fight for her.
Lily left the bathroom and hurried up the stairs to her room. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear footsteps behind her. She’d almost made it to her room, when Trace stopped her.
“Why?” he asked. The one word echoed within her soul.
“This isn’t going to work,” she whispered.
Trace’s brow furrowed. “What isn’t going to work?”
“As soon as we get the hay put up, I’m out of here,” Lily said.
He tipped her chin up. “Is that really what you want to do?”
As he raised her chin, she lowered her eyelids. “Yes.”
“Look at me, Lily,” he said.
The warmth of his breath brushed against her cheek. She looked up at him. “What do you want from me?”
His lips turned up at the corners. “A kiss.”
She shook her head. “No. I’m not going to ask you to kiss me,” Lily stated, lifting her chin slightly.
“Are you sure?” He lowered his head until his lips hovered over hers, only a breath away.
“I’m sure—” Her voice caught in her throat as their breaths mingled.
Kissing Trace would be a huge mistake. But she wanted it more than she wanted to breathe.
“Do you want me to kiss you?” he asked.
Though she shook her head no, her mouth said, “Yes.”
“Tell me, Lily,” he urged. “Tell me you want me to kiss you.”
“I don’t—” Finally, her gaze met his and she recognized the desire in his eyes that matched the fire burning deep in her core. “Oh, hell,” she muttered. “Who am I kidding?” She rose up on her toes and brushed her lips across his.
Trace leaned back, shaking his head. “Uh-uh,” he said. “Not until you say the words.”
Anger heated by desire made her words harsh. “All right, damn it. I want you to kiss me.”
Trace gathered her close and lowered his head slowly, taking her lips in the most gentle and tender kiss she’d ever experienced.
Anger, need and desire bubbled up inside Lily. She didn’t want the kiss to be tender. She wanted it hard, fast and deep, reminding her she was alive, and he was with her. After all these years, their bodies still remembered each other. She melted against him.
He pushed her up against the wall.
Lily wrapped her arms around him and pulled him impossibly closer. A kiss was not enough. She wanted him inside her. Wrapping her calf around his, she rubbed her center against his thigh and whispered against his lips, “I want more.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
His lips left hers as he bent and scooped her up in his arms. Trace fumbled with the door handle.
Lily brushed his hand aside, twisted the knob and pushed open the door.
Trace carried her across the threshold and kicked the door closed behind them. He crossed the room in three easy strides and lowered her legs to the ground slowly. Then he gathered her close, kissing her hard and deep.
Lily had wanted this for so long. Her pulse hammered against her eardrums as she reached for the buttons on his shirt. She fumbled with one, two, three buttons.
Impatient, Trace yanked the hem from his waistband and pulled open his shirt, popping the remaining buttons free.
Lily laughed, dragging her blouse over her head and tossing it to the corner.
They worked in a frenzy, shedding clothing. He helped her, she helped him. They helped each other until they both stood naked at the foot of the bed.
“Sweet Lily, you’re even more beautiful now than I remember,” he said, his voice low, resonant and warm on her naked skin.
She smoothed a hand over his broad shoulders. “You got taller…and bigger.” Her gaze slipped over his broad chest and down to his narrow waist and lower still to where the evidence of his desire jutted out prominently.
He cupped her cheek and stared down into her eyes. “Are you sure this is what you want? All you have to do is say no, and I’ll walk away.”
Lily’s belly tightened. “No way. I want this.” She’d been waiting so long for this moment. Trace had been her first. And he didn’t know it, but he’d been her only.
Still, she wasn’t a fool. “What about protection?”
He dived for the jeans he’d left crumpled on the floor, pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and unearthed a foil packet. He held it up with a grin.
Lily raised an eyebrow. “Just one?”
“There’s more in my room,” he said.
She nodded. “Good to know.” Lily slid a hand along his cheek and to the back of his neck. She pulled him down to kiss her.
As they kissed, he backed her up until her legs touched the mattress. Then he eased her down until she lay across the bed, her legs dangling over the side. Using his knees, he parted her thighs, stepping between. When he leaned over her, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close for a kiss.
His tongue thrust past her teeth to hers, caressing
it in a long, sensuous glide. Then he left her lips and trailed his lips across her cheek and down the long column of her neck to where her pulse beat frantically at the base.
Lily trailed her fingers across his shoulders, loving the feel of his hard muscles encased in smooth skin.
Trace’s mouth seared a path over her collarbone and down to her right breast. With his tongue he flicked her nipple and then rolled it between his teeth.
Lily arched her back off the mattress, urging him to take more. Take it all.
He sucked that breast into his mouth as deeply as he could, pulling hard.
Gasping, Lily’s breath caught in her lungs and her core tightened.
He played that breast until she thought she would come apart in a million pieces. Then he moved to the other and performed the same teasing, flicking nips.
Lily thrashed against the mattress, her desire growing at an exponential rate. She wanted all of him. “Please,” she cried.
He chuckled. “Please what?”
“Foreplay…is…overrated.”
His chest pressed against her torso. When he chuckled again, the rumble vibrated through her. Abandoning her left breast, he trailed his tongue and lips across her ribs and down her flat abdomen, dipping his tongue into her belly button. As he neared the juncture of her thighs, he slowed, then paused.
Lily held her breath, willing him to take her there. Take her with his fingers, with his tongue, with his staff.
Trace cupped her sex and dipped a finger into her wet channel.
Oh, sweet heaven…take me, she thought.
As if he’d heard her, his fingers parted her folds and he blew a warm stream of air over that heated strip of flesh.
Lily bunched the comforter in her fists.
His finger slid up inside her.
Lily moaned.
“Oh, baby, I’ve only just begun,” Trace said, his breath warm against the inside of her thighs. He touched her there.
An explosion of sensations roiled over her. Her hands flew from the comforter to his hair, weaving through the strands to pull him closer. “Trace!” Lily cried.
“Does that mean you like it?” he asked. “Or do you want me to stop?”
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