More Than a Rancher

by Claire McEwen

  “The other night was incredible,” he murmured. “But I wanted to be able to see you.” And he stood and looked again for a long moment, both of them watching as his big hands covered most of her thighs, his fingers circling the pale skin of her hips before sliding down to the tops of her stockings. And then his thumbs slid along the edge of her panties and she moaned low in her throat.

  His expression was worship and pure hunger and when the tips of his fingers slid under the fabric, Jenna’s heart raced. It was so incredibly intimate, watching this, feeling this. And then he brought his mouth down and replaced his fingers with his mouth, his touch with kisses, and she fell back on the bed, surrendering. Surrendering to his touch, to their situation, to the finite moments they had together.

  She closed her eyes and let herself get lost in the dark heat of him, his mouth fiercely exploring, his tongue finding every spot she’d ever wanted to be touched. He took his time until Jenna felt as if she were going to incinerate, just break into ashes and disperse. But she didn’t. She shook and bucked under his mouth and he stayed with her, his hands on her stomach softly holding her down so she didn’t break or float away, until she settled and came to her senses slowly. And only then, when she was quiet, did he pull away, kick off his boots and remove his jeans.

  He came onto the bed, kissing her mouth so she tasted herself when she tasted him. He lay across her, supporting himself on his arms above her. His muscles held him rock steady, and she reached up to trace the definition with her fingers. He closed his eyes, as if trying to better feel her touch, and when he opened them, he looked completely dazed as he leaned down to find her mouth again with his. His legs found the space between her thighs and when he slid inside her, it was so much more than what they’d had before. She could feel all of his skin on hers—all of his weight on her. He was inside her, above her and around her. The air was laced with the salty scent of him, and her ears were full of his rough breathing.

  She didn’t think she could want him more than she had, but need made her wild. She pushed her hips to him, seeking still more contact. He gasped her name and his fingers wove into her hair and she pushed up to him one more time, clutching him deep within her. And that was all she needed. Her whole body released and she held on to him tightly as she let go of any last bit of control, feeling the waves of energy ripple through her as she clung to his shoulders, burying her face against his chest and letting her feelings take her where they would.

  He stilled, and when she opened her eyes, his were crinkled in a self-satisfied smile. “I helped do that,” he murmured. “Twice.” And it was so unexpected that Jenna laughed.

  And then he was moving inside her again, powerful thrusts that she took and met gladly. He kissed her deeply, then moved to her neck, his caresses so fierce they hurt and aroused. With a harsh breath, he pulsed deep within her and it seemed they might really have become one being. She held him as he finished. He said her name in a ragged whisper again and again. And his silly words came back to her, meaning more now. I helped do that.

  They might not have much time left, but they had this. They had done this for each other.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  THE WOOL BLANKET was scratchy under Jenna’s hand. She ran her fingers over it and the unfamiliar texture finally registered in her sleepy brain. This wasn’t the duvet in her apartment, and it wasn’t the quilt she’d slept under the previous night. Her location came back to her in a jolt of shock and warmth. She was in Sandro’s bed in Sandro’s cabin on Sandro’s parents’ ranch.

  She sat up and glanced around wildly. A tall window looked out into the pine forest behind the cabin and let in the first dim light. Next to her under the blankets was a long lump with a pillow over its head. Sandro. A quick peek under the sheets revealed more of him, and he wasn’t wearing any clothes.

  She put the covers back quickly and brought her hands to her cheeks, covering the grin that had started there. He was amazing and loving and strong and totally bold. He’d woken her up in the middle of the night and made good on his earlier promise—that when he talked dirty to her, she’d know it. She’d known it through every cell of her body. His words had traveled leisurely through her brain, moved across her skin, taken root deep inside, and when he’d followed through with his touch and his mouth, she’d gone over the edge to complete oblivion.

  How had she not known about sex like this? She’d been with Jeff and Brent and a few boyfriends before them. But this was different.

  “Hey, Red.” The pillow was off and Sandro’s tousled head emerged. He looked up at her from under his black mop of hair. His grin was leonine in its contentment and its greed. “Come back down here.”

  “Sandro, I can’t! Your parents! What will they think?”

  “Probably that their son spent the night with the most beautiful woman in the world.”

  “No! I’m their guest and they put me in the guest room. I need to get back there.”

  “Five minutes,” Sandro bargained with a promise in his lazy smile. “Give me five minutes and I’ll take you back there.”

  Jenna laughed. “You can get this done in five minutes?”

  “Looking at you right now, Red, I could get it done in about thirty seconds. But I’d like to bring you with me.”

  Desire speared through her and she sank beneath the covers. His body was so warm, his lean muscle corded around her, making her completely vulnerable and absolutely protected all at once.

  “Five minutes,” she whispered, and he turned her over and pulled her against him so he was lying along her back. His hand was on her hip and his fingers were touching her, waking her desire until she was rocking back against him. And when he took her that way, holding her close, whispering in her ear, a hand in her hair and a hand on her hip, she lost all track of the minutes. All her awareness was of him and what it felt like to push back onto his length, to move forward into his touch.

  They lay silently after. Sandro held her close, his arms wrapped around her and Jenna sensed him drifting off. She realized that in about ten more seconds she’d be asleep, too.

  “Sandro...”

  “Four and a half minutes.”

  “What?”

  “That’s how long it took. Four and a half minutes.”

  “You timed it?” It was too ridiculous. Jenna glanced over at the clock on the bedside table. “Really?”

  “I keep my promises.” She felt his smile against her shoulder.

  “Even the one about getting me to the house so your parents don’t know I slept here?”

  He sighed heavily and sat up, taking his warmth with him. “Yup. Even that one.” He reached for his jeans and yanked them on and Jenna rummaged under the covers, blushing as she tried to remember what on earth had happened to her underwear.

  “Here.” Sandro picked up her black lace bra from the bedpost.

  “Aha.” Her panties were tangled under the sheets at the foot of the bed. She slid them on and then added the bra, trying to ignore Sandro’s very appreciative look as the black lace covered her breasts.

  “Can we take that off again later? Or actually, maybe leave it on?”

  “I have to go home today, Sandro.” Jenna felt the loss even as she said it. She didn’t want to say goodbye, but she had a bunch of private lessons scheduled for this afternoon. There was no way she could take more time off. Marlene would never forgive her and Nicole would be more than happy to take over her students.

  Jenna pulled her shirt over her head and when she emerged, Sandro was looking at her with the same sadness that she was feeling.

  They walked back to the house hand in hand, the air chill, the sky just barely light. Sandro let her into the kitchen and she was thankful that no one was up and about yet.

  “Go upstairs and shower, start your day. I’ll make a big old breakfast down here and when y
ou come down, you can look surprised to see me.”

  “Sounds perfect. Thanks, Sandro.”

  “No.” He leaned over and kissed her gently on the mouth. “Thank you, Red.”

  * * *

  WHEN JENNA EMERGED from her room, there were voices downstairs. A happy buzz and the smell of coffee—the bustle of a family weekend morning that she’d only read about in books. When she was growing up, breakfast in her house had been served by the maid. She stopped by the hallway window for a moment just listening to the sounds.

  “Pancakes!” That was Paul’s voice, sounding so carefree that Jenna realized he’d been feeling more guilty about deceiving his parents than she’d known.

  “Only if you help, you runt.” Sandro had laughter in his voice. “And I think there’s something on the table you might want to see.”

  A moment of silence and then Paul’s voice. “No way! They signed it! Mom! Dad!” His footsteps careened through the big old farmhouse in search of his parents and Jenna hugged herself in delight. Maybe, just maybe, she’d played a small part in bringing some peace and acceptance into this family. And maybe that peace would be healing for Sandro, too. Now she just needed someone to show up at her parents’ home and work the same magic for her.

  She looked out the window and watched Paul racing across the grass to the chicken coop where his mother was coming through the gate. Paul threw his arms around her and she almost dropped her bucket of eggs. They were both laughing.

  Even if she never got to have Paul as her student again, he now had the confidence to move forward and the acceptance of his family. And that was the real purpose of all this.

  There was a dull thud inside her, as if her heart had just slid into her stomach. It was time to go. She had at least six hours of driving ahead of her. She stepped back into the guest room and quickly shoved all of her things into her duffel bag. Shouldering it, she started down the hall toward the stairs.

  Halfway down, she heard the thump of boots by the back door and the rumble of Mr. Salazar’s voice. He was asking Sandro for help with moving sheep later today. Sandro said something about the merits of moving them to a different pasture with more shade but, apparently, less accessible water. This part of Sandro was like an alien to her. What did she know about sheep or ranches? It was as though he were speaking a different language.

  The screen slammed as Mr. Salazar went back outside and Jenna walked into the kitchen and set her bag and purse on one of the chairs. Sandro looked up from the enormous bowl of batter he was mixing and gave her a long, lazy smile that made it clear he was remembering every detail of their night, and morning, together. She blushed.

  “Morning, Red.” He set down the spoon and walked toward her, leaning down and kissing her mouth. “Again.”

  They both jumped apart as Sandro’s mother came through the door with Paul behind her, carrying the bucket of eggs. Mrs. Salazar’s brows furrowed when she saw Jenna’s bags. “Oh, you’re leaving now? Wouldn’t you like to stay for breakfast?”

  “I have to get back for work,” Jenna explained. “But thank you very much for having me. I had a lovely time.”

  Mrs. Salazar’s eyes were kind. “We had a lovely time, too. Thank you for getting us all dancing last night. And thank you for all that you’ve done for Paul.”

  “Mom says that I can perform at the talent show!” Paul’s grin was so wide it made Jenna smile in return, despite how sad she was to say goodbye. “And if Sandro has another cooking class in the city, I can take more classes with you.”

  “I’d love that, Paul.” She was going to miss being his teacher. “I am so happy for you. Truly happy. And, Barbara, I think you’ll be very impressed with your son’s performance. Paul, call me if you need help with the choreography.”

  Sandro’s mom smiled ruefully. “I wish we’d been a little more supportive in the past. Thank you, Jenna, for opening our eyes.”

  Paul came forward. “Thank you so much, Jenna, for everything.”

  She held out her arms and he stepped in for a hug. Setting him apart from her, she looked him in the eye, suddenly fiercely protective of him now that she wouldn’t be able to keep watch over him. “You have my number and my email. Use them. And if you can get to San Francisco, even for a day, come dance with me.”

  There were tears in his eyes that matched her own. “Will do.”

  “I’ll walk you to the car.” Sandro turned off the stove and crossed the kitchen with long strides. He picked up Jenna’s bag for her before she could protest, and despite her anxiety about their impending goodbye, she smiled slightly at his insistent chivalry.

  She followed him down the hall, admiring his broad back tapering to his narrow waist, the perfect fit of his faded jeans. She tried to connect this gorgeous stranger with the man she’d been so intimate with last night.

  They walked out the front door of the old house. Mr. Salazar was doing something in the front garden and he gave Jenna a friendly wave. She knew she should go say goodbye, but she was afraid she’d start crying. Her car was her safe haven and the only place she wanted to be at the moment.

  Once at the Mini, Sandro stowed her bag in her backseat. She had no idea what to say. “I’m really glad your parents agreed to Paul’s dancing. I feel like I can drive away and say mission accomplished.” Her attempt at lightness sounded completely lame and her voice echoed hollow in the thin mountain air.

  “Thank you again for that. For changing my mind and theirs. For changing all of us.”

  “I think you all did most of it on your own.” She couldn’t take credit. She’d just been the catalyst.

  Sandro took her hands in his. “Jenna, last night was incredible. Everything. This morning was incredible, too. Then you come downstairs and insist on leaving, looking at me like I’m a total stranger. What’s going on?”

  “We have to say goodbye. Your classes in the city are over, so this is it. And I’m trying to be okay with it, but I’m sad.” Tears welled up and she attempted to blink them back. She didn’t want Sandro’s last sight of her to be all red-eyed and puffy.

  “It doesn’t have to be goodbye,” he said quietly.

  She looked at him in surprise. Faint hope flared. “What do you mean?”

  “We could try to meet up. Do the long-distance thing.”

  The hope fizzled. “It would take up all your free time, which you need to get your restaurant open. And I rarely have two days off in a row.”

  “Then I have another idea.” He took a deep breath. “Stay here with me.”

  Shock washed over her, paralyzing her brain for a moment. “Excuse me?” was all she could manage.

  “You were amazing with my family. You completely turned them around. And they like you so much. Didn’t you love the dancing? The riding? The mountains? Stay here, with me.”

  For a moment she pictured it, just dropping everything and starting again. Getting to be with Sandro. Creating a life together out here. And part of her wanted to say yes.

  “Sandro,” she started, “I...”

  “Samantha is here. Your best friend.” He paused, biting his lower lip in a very uncharacteristic gesture of insecurity. “I’m here and I want you with me, Jenna.” He leaned down and kissed her gently. She kissed him back, loving the way his mouth felt over hers. Wanting so much to have more of this chemistry between them.

  “My whole life is dancing,” she said.

  “Open a studio here! I bet there are a lot of people who’d like to learn to dance in this area. More kids like Paul. Maybe you could coach the drill team....”

  Jenna thought about her dream studio. The old ballroom shrouded in dust, waiting to come to life. The dances she wanted to host—Lindy Hop dances complete with live bands and the Latin nights she’d already planned. There was the scholarship program she hoped to build. She was so close to makin
g it happen.

  “I just can’t. I could never do out here what I do in San Francisco. Nothing close to it. And I don’t think I could be truly happy if I don’t try for my dreams.”

  He looked away, his jaw clenched, and when he looked back, she saw a new reserve in his eyes.

  She’d promised herself that she wouldn’t ask him, but now the question she’d been avoiding felt like her only hope. “What about coming to San Francisco? It’s a city that practically worships food.”

  Sandro shook his head, but Jenna wasn’t ready to give up yet. “The whole city is being overrun by Silicon Valley techies with large salaries to spend on great food. There’s so much opportunity.... You could make the wildest, most innovative cuisine and people would love it.”

  “You’re right,” he said, and Jenna felt a stab of relief, which he banished with his next words. “But I can’t do it. It’s been proven—I don’t do well in cities.”

  “But, Sandro, you’ve changed so much....”

  “I’ve changed a little, Jenna. But not enough to move back to the city. Neither of us wants me to be that guy who ran out on you at Marlene’s party.”

  Jenna’s heart sank slowly, deflating in the complete absence of hope. She turned away and pulled open the car door, willing herself to get inside and drive away before she begged.

  Then she realized she had one more thing to say. She turned to face him one last time. “You can run into temptation anywhere, Sandro. Hiding in Benson won’t make all the alcohol in the world go away. In fact, your restaurant will be full of it. And I’m sure there are people around here who do drugs and offer up easy sex to other people. And you might end up meeting some of them.”

  He was looking away again—studying some horizon over her head. Was he even listening? “I respect that you want to stay in Benson. And I can even see why you do—there’s a lot to love around here. But if you’re staying because you think it will keep you safe? Well, I’m no expert, but I think that kind of safety has to come from inside you.”