by Tessa Layne
Her mouth called to him like a siren.
“I wanted to kiss you,” he rasped, not recognizing his voice. “And so much more.”
Her eyes grew wide at his confession. Then confused. “I don’t understand.”
He dipped his head closer. Close enough he could smell her perfume, a mix of lilacs and sweetness that sent awareness pinballing through his body. “Kissing you and more was the only thing I thought of that summer. And then you kissed me, and you tasted… perfect. As sweet as a summer peach.”
His body hummed with need. Need to set things to rights. And an overwhelming need to taste her again, to see for himself if the Hope in front of him was as real as the woman who haunted his dreams. As if pulled by some mystical cord, he closed the distance between them.
Her lips were softer than he remembered. Sweeter. They moved under him as she made a little noise deep in her throat, and her hand moved to clutch the edge of his coat.
The sound triggered something primal inside him. Blood rushed to his cock so fast he saw spots. With a grumble, he gathered her close and swept his tongue across her luscious lower lip, begging her to open to him, to them. With a tiny sigh she did, and slid her tongue against his.
He poured everything into their kiss. The years of regret, of unquenched desire. He stroked her mouth, tasting her, diving into her recesses as if she were a lifeline.
She melted into him, giving as she received. She knocked his Stetson off, diving her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer.
He slipped his hands beneath her jacket, pulling her shirt from her jeans, searching for and finding the skin at her hip. He skimmed over her flesh, smiling into her mouth as the skin rippled under him. His cock strained against his jeans, heat spiraling through him to settle in his balls.
Hope’s skin came alive under him. Warming. He slid his fingers upward, exploring and tracing the outline of her bra, caressing the satiny curve that filled his hand. What had he been thinking eight years ago, pushing her away?
He found her already tight bud through the silky fabric, running his knuckle across it until it jutted out firmly. She moaned into his mouth when he rolled it between his thumb and forefinger.
“God, Hope,” he muttered. “I was an idiot. You’re fucking perfect.”
His words must have acted like cold water, because she wrenched her mouth from his, pushing against his chest.
“Stop. I… I… can’t. We,” her voice caught and she shook her head. “This is too much…I,” she pinched the bridge of her nose, and raised tormented eyes to his. “I’m sorry.” Her voice sounded strangled. She whirled and stepped out the door.
“Wait.” He followed her out. “Hope, sweetheart.”
But he was too late. She’d already scrambled down the ladder. Chagrin crashed through him, and he braced himself against the balcony rail, struggling to get his breathing under control. A moment later, he heard her ride off.
Shit.
What had he been thinking?
He let out a ragged breath. He hadn’t. He’d behaved like an idiot. Again. He’d been mesmerized by her full mouth and all thought had emptied straight into his cock.
He smiled grimly into the darkened space. She’d pushed him away, but she hadn’t told him to fuck off.
Whatever they were, they were far from finished.
CHAPTER 5
“You look like shit, sissy. Been up all night?” Gunnar strode into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee.
Yes, as a matter of fact. Hope had been up all night. If not actively awake, then tossing and turning, reliving the smoking hot kiss she’d shared with Ben. If it hadn’t come laden with half a lifetime of anxiety ridden baggage, kissing him would have been a dream come true. God, could the man kiss. He’d incinerated her panties and left her weak in the knees, clutching his jacket for dear life. Truth be told, she’d never been kissed like that. Kissing mature Ben had been… a revelation.
And the way his scent had filled her. A crazy sexy combination of super clean soap, leather, and something uniquely Ben. Freaking intoxicating. Addictive. A shot of yearning settled in her pussy. But just as quickly, bitterness at what could have been, of the heartache she’d endured, whooshed through her, dragging her back to the cold, dark morning.
“Hopey,” Gunnar waved his hand in front of her face. “You okay?”
She nodded, taking a gulp of her coffee. “Yeah. Just getting used to being in my old room. Sleep will come.”
Concern washed over Gunnar’s face. “You’ve never had trouble sleeping there before, what gives?”
Hope let out a heavy sigh. “I have a lot on my mind.” Ben Sinclaire and his hot as sin mouth. “That’s all.”
Gunnar reached out and tugged one of her braids. “You know you can talk to us. We’re here for you, sis.”
“Thanks.” Resignation settled heavily over her. When push came to shove, her brothers would have her back. But she was twenty-six. She couldn’t run to them, or to Ben for that matter, at the first sign of things being hard. Come hell or high water, she was figuring this one out on her own.
“Join me for chores?” Gunnar topped off her coffee.
“Of course.”
“We could use your help with the mustang we picked up, Buttercup. We entered this Christmas mustang makeover contest in Manhattan, but we’re having trouble with her. She’s still real skittish and the competition is right before Christmas.”
A thrill ran through her. She loved nothing more than getting to know a new horse. Talking with it, training it, building a rapport. But she couldn’t right now. She’d carry all her sadness into the stall with her and the horse would pick up on it. Get nervous. Especially a wild horse. “I-I… let’s see how chores go.”
Gunnar pulled out a chair across from her and spun it around, draping his arms over the back of the chair as he studied her intently. “Gotta get back in the saddle one of these days. You were always one of our best trainers. I don’t know why you’re digging in your heels. What’s so bad about working at Hansen Stables?”
“I don’t have the credentials.”
Frustration filled his eyes. “That’s a load of horse shit and you know it. People care about purchasing excellent stock. They give zero fucks about what letters you have after your name. I never understood why you were hell-bent on veterinary school anyway.”
“You don’t understand. I can’t… I can’t…”
“Aw, pull your head out of your ass. The best thing for your sadness is hard work.” He gave her a crooked grin. “Hell, I know all about best-laid plans blowing up in your face. I was supposed to be married with Hansen sons by now.”
“Well, maybe if you weren’t such a caveman,” she teased.
He scowled at her. “There’s nothing wrong with putting in an honest day’s work and wanting your woman waiting for you when you get home.”
“Maybe she’d rather work by your side. Or bring home the bacon.” And her brothers wondered why she hesitated to work with them. Too much damned testosterone. Where were the enlightened men? Certainly not in the Hansen household. Definitely not in her vet program. She’d love to run her own business, but that dream had gone by the wayside, just like all the rest. Melancholy settled over her like a wet wool blanket.
Hope could tell Gunnar was disappointed in her. And worried. But what was she supposed to do? If he found out what really happened… why she’d had to leave… she couldn’t face him. Couldn’t face anyone. A bad break-up was one thing. But academic dishonor was something else entirely. And no amount of self-pity and despair would change her circumstances. She’d just have to suck it up and move forward. Maybe Gunnar was right. Maybe hard work would help.
“Shall we?” She pushed away from the table and moved to grab her coat by the back door. “Last one finished makes breakfast.”
Two hours later, Hope was back at the kitchen table, warming her hands around a cup of coffee, while Gunnar and Axel stood at the counter, fixing breakfast. Hope
welcomed the familiar ache that stretched across her shoulders. She’d handily beaten Gunnar at chores, and he was right. It felt good.
A knock sounded at the back door, and her cousin, Maddie, stuck her head in. “Hope?”
Hope stood and rushed to embrace her, tears burning behind her eyelids. “Look at you!” She couldn’t help grinning as she surveyed Maddie’s burgeoning belly. “You’re big as a house.”
Maddie’s eyes sparkled. “Can you believe it?” She pulled Hope into another hug. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Hope ran her hand over Maddie’s belly. “Are you sure there’s not two in there?”
Maddie nodded, laughing. “Only one. But Blake’s sister, Emma, says all the Sinclaire babies are huge.”
Regret surged through Hope. “I’ve missed so much. Your wedding. Your baby shower.”
Maddie shook her head. “Shush. You’re here now, that’s what matters.” She wrapped Hope in another hug. “Pour me a cup of coffee? I have some time before I have to leave for Manhattan.”
Hope wrinkled her nose in concern. “I don’t mean to fuss, but coffee’s okay?”
Maddie nodded. “Doctor says as long as I limit it to one or two cups, I’m fine. I never drank more than that anyway. Unless I was neck deep into a research deadline.”
Hope poured them both a cup and nodded to the chair across from her. “How’s married life?”
Maddie’s answering grin said it all, and a pang of envy swept through Hope. Axel leaned against the counter, shooting Hope the kind of sly grin that only meant trouble. “So what advice would you give Hope in her search for true love?”
Hope rolled her eyes. “What if I’m not searching? What if I just want to be home?”
Maddie winked at Axel. “That’s when you’re most likely to get hit over the head.”
Great.
She’d been hit over the head the night before, with Ben’s kiss. But she couldn’t exactly confess that to anyone in the room. Not without causing a shit storm.
Gunnar cracked an egg into the skillet. “Hypothetically speaking, sis. If you were searching for true love–”
“Which I’m not.”
Gunnar continued as if she hadn’t interrupted. “If you were… what are your deal breakers?”
What was up with her brothers? Why were they so concerned about her love life? Jeez. A few years ago they’d have threatened a potential date with a baseball bat, now they were trying to marry her off?
“Are you kidding me? Why do you care?”
Axel shot a meaningful glance at Gunnar. “Like we said. Just looking out for you.”
Hope snorted. “Trying to mess with me is more like it. But fine. I’ll play along.”
Axel’s eyes lit up. “Yeah?”
Gunnar flipped the egg onto a plate, and cracked another into the pan. “Staying for breakfast, Maddie Jane?”
“Sure. The entertainment’s decent enough.”
Hope shot Maddie a glare. “Whose side are you on?”
Maddie went goofy-eyed and reached for Hope’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “You know I want nothing more than to see you happy.”
Axel cleared his throat, running his hand across his ginger scruff. “Getting back to my question. What are your deal breakers?”
“We’re really having this conversation?”
Gunnar flipped another egg onto a plate, handing this one to Maddie. “All in good fun, Hopey. All in good fun.”
Hope took a fortifying gulp of coffee. “Fine. If you insist. Mr. Perfect needs to kiss like he means it.” Like Ben. Her throat closed at the thought. But as Dottie at the diner always said, in for a penny, in for a pound.
Gunnar’s eyes widened. “Kissing is at the top of your list?” He exchanged a meaningful glance with Axel.
“Why not?” Prickles raced up the back of Hope’s neck. What was going on with the two of them? “Why shouldn’t kissing be important?”
“’Cause you’re our sister?” Axel’s brows furrowed.
“You asked, numbnuts.”
Gunnar placed a reassuring hand on Axel’s shoulder. “You’re right we did. So fine. Kissing. What else?”
The image of Ben’s rock-hard thighs floated in front of her. She hadn’t thought to cop a feel of his ass yesterday. She’d been too surprised, and then too captivated to think. But she bet it was all muscle. And his broad torso. A primal appreciation blazed to life low in her belly, warming her. “Hard muscles. No beer bellies or flabby asses.”
Axel’s eyebrows shot skyward.
“Well, you asked. You think men are the only ones with eyes that go straight to the opposite sex’s… er… parts?” Warmth flooded her face.
“Stimulating conversation,” Maddie chimed in. “You need stimulating conversation,” she said, aiming a nervous glance at Axel’s shocked face. “Believe me, Hope. You don’t want to spend your evenings in silence because you have nothing to talk about.”
Hope took another gulp of coffee, wincing as the heat scalded her throat. “Sure. If my hotness list makes you uncomfortable, Axe. Add someone who’s willing to get to know me. Who respects my career choices, who isn’t going to insist I stay at home and be a rancher’s wife. And someone who makes me laugh.” Ben always knew how to make her laugh. Even on her worst day. She took a big breath, blowing it out, bracing for the reaction at her next item. “And he has to be okay going to sex clubs with me.”
The sound of sizzling butter filled in the awkward silence.
Gunnar’s look bored right into her. “What the hell is that about?”
Maddie’s eyes were like saucers. Axel’s eyes narrowed.
Laughter started low in her belly and Hope worked to keep her face dead serious. Their reactions were priceless. Nothing lifted her mood like fucking with her brothers.
“You’re shitting me,” Gunnar stated flatly.
She arched an eyebrow, daring him to criticize her.
“To each his or her own, Gunn,” Maddie interjected softly. “If Hope likes–”
“Kinky sex?” Axel’s voice held a note of incredulity and horror.
Hope shrugged. “So what if I do? Maybe you boys should get out of town more often.” She snatched a pancake from the pile and broke it apart, popping a piece in her mouth. “There’s a big, wide world outside of Prairie. A big sexy world.” She aimed a wicked grin at Gunnar.
“I’ve been to Vegas,” he retorted. “I know.”
“And you didn’t visit a sex club? Really, Gunn. I’m so disappointed.”
“I was there for the pro-rodeo finals,” he growled, his face turning pink. “I didn’t have time for sex.”
“You’re full of shit, Gunn,” Axel shot back. “I was there. You had the hook-up of the century.”
Maddie choked on her coffee. “Wait. What? You had a hook-up in Vegas?”
Hope bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Baiting them was so damned entertaining. “What happens in Vegas, Gunn.”
“Stays in Vegas,” Gunnar snapped. “And is none of your damned business.”
Maddie clapped her hands. “As much as I would love to hear about your escapades in Vegas, I’ve got to run.” She eased herself back from the table. “Hope, please don’t be a stranger. Come to the next bonfire. I want you to meet Brodie’s fiancée, Jamey. She’s my oldest, dearest friend, and I think you two would love each other.”
And with those few words, reality crashed back in on Hope. “Yeah. Sure. I guess.” She plastered a bright smile on her face. She didn’t want to hurt Maddie’s feelings any more than she already had. And judging from worry and concern pouring off Maddie in waves, she’d hurt her cousin. “I… yes. I’ll come. Here. Let me walk you out.” She propelled them both out the back door. As soon as Maddie was off, she’d saddle up Phyllis. There was only one place her mind could rest, and she prayed this time Ben wouldn’t be there, waiting.
CHAPTER 6
Ben hunched his shoulders against the early November wind as he made his way down
Prairie’s main street to Dottie’s Diner. Leftover Halloween decorations still dotted the glass fronts of the stores, but soon enough they’d be replaced with evergreens, snowmen, and Santas.
The bell rang merrily as he pushed into Dottie’s and scanned the restaurant for a familiar face. The lunch rush was just beginning. Soon enough, it would be hard to find a seat. He slipped onto a stool at the counter and waved to Elaine, one of Dottie’s servers. She brought over a menu and a hot cup of coffee. He waved off the menu. “No need. Chicken fried steak and eggs. Hashbrowns and a biscuit.”
Elaine called out his order, and he reached for the latest copy of Rancher’s Monthly lying at the end of the counter. The magazine wasn’t much, more like a monthly newspaper with announcements, 4-H notices, auctions, and a classified section. November’s issue was typically thin, but Ben was always on the lookout for a good deal for the ranch. Equipment or livestock could sometimes be had at bargain basement prices this time of year.
He took a sip of coffee and flipped absentmindedly through the pages, not really reading, until Hope’s face smiled up at him from the singles page. What. The. Fuck? He blinked, and looked again. The laughing woman in the picture was definitely Hope. She was breathtaking. The expression on her face was completely unguarded, eyes twinkling, and obviously laughing. Whoever’d snapped the pic had caught her at the perfect moment. But what the hell was she doing taking out a singles ad? Jesus.
It had only been a week and change since he’d kissed her, but he knew it had affected her as deeply as it had affected him. There’d been two family bonfires since then, and while she’d attended, she’d come late and left early, always positioning herself on the opposite side of the fire from him. But he’d caught her staring when she thought he wasn’t looking. And the look in her eyes wasn’t distaste. No sirree. Her eyes had been hungry. Filled with longing. Their kiss had been the start of something. He knew it in his bones. He just had to give it time. Give her time. And if there was one thing he was, it was patient.
He scanned the ad, suspicion growing. Hope would never write something this bold. As a joke maybe… but her brothers would. He shook his head, reading the ad once again. This had Axel and Gunnar’s fingerprints all over it.