Daring to Fall

by T. J. Kline

  Ben wanted to prove his brother wrong, wanted to assure him that he could be with a woman and not end up in a relationship or falling in love. She’d made it clear she didn’t want any sort of serious or permanent relationships in her life. So, there really wasn’t even a “him and Emma” at this point.

  “It’s not like that this time.”

  “Sure it’s not.”

  “This is a casual thing. We’re . . .” Ben paused, trying to find any word that might describe what he and Emma had, or how he felt when they were together. Lovers? Friends?

  Andrew shook his head. “Give it up, Ben. Casual just isn’t who you are.”

  “You might be surprised.”

  Emma came back into the kitchen with her phone in her hand and smiled at the pair. “Your sister said she’d talk to you both tomorrow. I should probably get back to the ranch too. Monique texted me that she fed Kit but I have to be up early to do it in the morning.”

  Ben pulled her keys from his pocket. “I’ll drive you.”

  Her brows lifted in question. Since he’d left his car at the bar, if he drove her back to the ranch, it would leave him stranded for the night. Andrew glanced her way, arching a brow expectantly. Then back to Ben, his eyes widening as if he’d come to the same realization. While he had no plans of taking advantage of Emma, there was no denying he wanted her. He also wanted to wipe that arrogant smirk off Andrew’s face.

  Emma looked at Andrew curiously, taking in his grin, before turning her gaze back to Ben. As if she were able to read his mind, she smiled up at him. “You sure you’re okay to drive?”

  He held his glass of water aloft. “I switched over a while back too.”

  “Good, because I didn’t,” she admitted, trailing her hand over his bicep with a sly wink. Ben immediately felt himself grow hard. Andrew choked on the last of the beer he’d just swallowed as she held her empty bottle out to Andrew. “This is really good.”

  “I’ll have another batch ready next weekend. Come over.” As Andrew’s gaze slid over her, Ben felt every muscle in his body clench with tension.

  “I’d like that.” Emma cast his brother a dazzling smile as she tucked her hand into the crook of Ben’s arm and he felt his patience snap. He was going to punch his brother, or throw her over his shoulder again.

  “We should go.”

  Andrew chuckled as they headed for the front door. “You do realize, you’re just proving my point, right, bro?” he yelled as they headed outside.

  Emma had seen the rage in Ben’s eyes at Andrew’s invitation. Maybe she’d had one beer too many and it dulled her senses, but she suspected Ben was angry at her as well and she hadn’t done anything but flirt with him.

  Let him be angry.

  At first, she’d decided it was best to give him some time to settle down, but he just seemed to get angrier with every mile that passed between their ranches and, now, she was second-guessing her decision.

  “You want to tell me what that was about?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Oh, I see. Being a child must just be part of your boyish charm.” Ben simply clenched his jaw again. “You know, if you keep doing that, the muscle in your jaw might just stay that way.”

  She saw him relax his jaw slightly but he still didn’t look her direction.

  “It’s good to see you hold fast to tradition, that you perpetuate the cliché.”

  He turned to look at her, slowly, his eyes dark, daring her to say more. But luck had been on her side tonight playing poker and she’d firmly believed in pushing it as far as it would go.

  “You know, the strong, silent type.”

  “I know the cliché.” He pulled into the driveway and punched the security code she’d given him into the keypad at the gate. “I thought Andrew told you to change this.”

  “I will, when I’m ready.”

  “How about now since you’ve pissed off an employee and someone is vandalizing your property.”

  “Don’t go getting all caveman on me again, McQuaid. I’ll do it when I’m ready.”

  “I see you’re not bucking the stubborn Irishman cliché.”

  She gave him a tentative grin. “You know I’m Scottish but touché. Maybe some clichés are based more on reality than we like to think,” she offered. “I will change it in the morning when I have light.” He tipped his chin down in disbelief. “I cross my heart. You want to tell me what sparked your temper?”

  He looked back out the front window and she could see him shutting down on her again. “Andrew.” He took a deep breath. “And you.”

  “About him offering for me to come try his new beer?” He couldn’t possibly be serious.

  He parked the truck in front of the house and turned it off. There was no sound but the slight ticking of the engine as it began to cool from the short trip. The muscle in his jaw ticked in time with the sound and she could see he was trying to work up his nerve to answer.

  “Look, if you want to hook up with Andrew, I’m cool with that—”

  “Are you? Because this,” she said as she circled her open hand in front of her, “tells me that you’re not cool with it.” She flipped the console up between them and slid across the seat so that her thigh pressed against his. “And, for the record, I don’t want to ‘hook up’ with your brother.”

  Emma slid her hand down his bicep. There was only one McQuaid brother she wanted to hook up with and she was finding it increasingly hard to remember that this was supposed to be a one-time, no pressure thing, that she was supposed to keep her distance from him emotionally because she couldn’t do serious. She had enough trouble in her life without adding a relationship to the mix, or burdening him with her drama.

  But Ben McQuaid had a way of worming himself into her thoughts when she least wanted him there. When she was working, it was all she could do not to call and ask him to volunteer again so she could watch him work. It wasn’t just the sexual attraction to him—hell, she’d have to be dead not to be attracted to him. But she wanted to be the one to give him new experiences. He made her laugh, even if it was due to his discomfort around the animals. More than anything, she liked that he’d been willing to take a beating, or give one, for her. No one had ever stood up for her like that, and it made her feel guilty for her previous accusations about the articles in the newspaper.

  “Emma, we still need to talk about this . . . thing, with us.”

  He reached for her hand but instead of removing it, he simply curled his fingers between hers. It was tender, sweet and comforting.

  And exactly what she didn’t want from Ben.

  She had to find a way to stop these feeling for him, this emotional longing, from developing. This was supposed to remain completely physical. It had to, or she had to walk away now. She didn’t have the emotional stamina for anything more permanent than a few nights.

  “If you don’t want this, McQuaid, all you have to do is say so. We could call it quits right now.” She prayed he wouldn’t stop her as her hand dropped to his firm thigh. Ben sucked in a breath as her fingers trailed upward, brushing over his zipper where his erection strained against the material.

  “No, we can’t,” he admitted, his voice strained.

  She laughed, surprising herself with the huskiness of the sound. Ben made her feel things she shouldn’t, didn’t want to, too. “So I see.”

  Emma swung one leg over his, and settled herself into his lap, leaning back against the steering wheel and pressing both hands against his chest. “You know, you’re not really the strong, silent type. Your mouth might be silent, but the rest of you gets the message across loud and clear.”

  “Is this all you want, Emma?” His face was shadowed and she couldn’t quite read his expression, lit only by the stars in the sky and the small sliver of a moon outside. There were no lights on, except those within the animal compound across the driveway. “Do you even know what you want?”

  His hands found her hips, his fingers dug into the flesh slightly, as if he
was trying to maintain control of himself.

  She almost laughed at his question. She wanted him, this. She didn’t need to talk about it. She wanted Ben to lose control, to stop thinking. But she understood he was trying to protect her from herself, to give her an opportunity to change her mind or back out but it wasn’t going to happen. In spite of her earlier comment, she did trust him, had from the moment she’d met him. Maybe not completely, but as much as she could trust anyone.

  There was a quiet confidence in Ben, a fortitude that assured her that she was safe with him, protected. She wasn’t sure how she knew it, he’d almost shot her with a dart gun, after all, but she had no doubt he’d have thrown himself between her and Buster if it had come down to it. Ben didn’t just look like a superhero, he was one. He was a guardian, a protector. Not because it was his job but because it was in his DNA. It was who he was in every thought he had and he’d simply chosen a profession which let him be what he was inside.

  She’d seen it when he was with her and when he was with his family. He was a good man, too good for her. He was going to make someone a good husband, a father. If she had half a shred of decency, she’d walk away from him now and let him find a woman who could love him the way he deserved, instead of a woman who could only offer him a little fun.

  His hands moved up her sides to cup her face and she reveled in his touch, leaning into it. She cursed her own weakness. She didn’t want to admit it but she needed him. Far more than she wanted to.

  Needed the way he helped her forget her fears, the way he made her feel desirous, the way he made her feel like she could be a good person too. She needed to keep feeling like she could be the woman he believed she was, even if she knew it wasn’t true.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ben stared into Emma’s eyes and could see the indecision raging within. There was a battle going on inside her but she wasn’t willing to open up to him. Andrew’s words circled in his mind, like vipers, striking out, reminding him that he was falling for Emma, hard and fast, and that he just didn’t have it in him to not get involved.

  He closed his eyes, trying to figure out how Andrew could be with a woman like Emma and not care what was going on behind the eyes that had suddenly taken on the appearance of the ocean in a storm. It was impossible.

  But he also knew Andrew was right, Emma didn’t want a relationship. She wanted something without strings, no commitments. As much as he wanted to ask what was going on in her head, he didn’t. He would stick to letting her set their pace, somehow.

  Ben drew her closer and Emma leaned in willingly, sighing as his mouth covered hers. Desire surged through him, hot and bold, but he kept their kiss gentle, sweet, almost languorous. Emma’s hands slid from his chest to the nape of his neck as his tongue swept against hers, dancing with eager strokes. His hands slid down her back, pulling her against him and sending his body straining against the tight rein he kept on his self-control.

  She moved over him, trying to get even closer, but there were too many clothes separating them. Emma’s hands moved down the front of his chest, tugging his Henley from the waistband of his jeans when he stopped her. She whimpered a protest but he laughed quietly.

  “This isn’t exactly the most comfortable place to . . .” Ben let his words trail off and gave her a slight shrug. “You know.”

  “Get busy?” she offered, flashing him a brilliant smile. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  “I can be far more adventurous when I’m not worried about you leaning back on the horn and waking your neighbors.”

  Emma pressed her lips to the edge of his jaw. “My neighbors are almost two miles away on either side. I could sit on this horn and they wouldn’t hear it.” She gave him a flirty smile, letting her lips brush over his. “But now you have me intrigued to see this adventurous side you claim to have.”

  Before he could say anything, Emma opened the door. He groaned as she seductively slid off his lap and stood at the door, waiting for him. Ben dropped his head against the back window, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to calm the ravenous hunger raging through him. Whenever Emma was involved, all of his good intentions and control seemed to disappear.

  He opened his eyes and reached for her hand when two small flashes of light behind her caught his attention. Ben narrowed his eyes, trying to see it again, but now it was gone.

  “What’s over there?” He reached for her shoulder and pointed toward the front of her house. “I saw light that way.”

  “What light? Where?”

  A faint low growl carried to where they stood. Ben instinctively moved to Emma’s left side, protecting the only vulnerable side of her, when he saw the faint yellow light again. Only it wasn’t light. It was the reflection of light from the eyes of an animal, walking straight toward them. From the loud snarl, it didn’t sound friendly.

  “Shit,” he muttered, staring ahead in the darkness, unable to make out anything but a large shape and immediately wondered if Buster hadn’t somehow gotten out again. “Can you tell what that is?”

  “No.” Emma leaned into the truck and flipped the headlights on. The front of the house was bathed in yellow light as what appeared to be a wolf froze, midstep, as if confused how to react.

  Emma pushed her way past him much to his dismay. “Get back here,” he called, reaching for her arm.

  He’d just missed her as she moved toward the front of the truck. “Cana?”

  Ben moved to flank her and the animal immediately sank on its haunches, teeth bared again. It snapped once, taking a step backward. Emma took a step forward, away from the protection of the truck and squatted on the balls of her feet.

  “Cana, it’s okay. It’s me.”

  “Emma?” Ben reached for her, determined to pull her back to safety but she shook him off. “Emma, get back here. That wolf is going to kill you.”

  The wolf’s amber eyes flicked at him and the snarls turned more violent as the animal lashed out.

  “No, he won’t.” Her gaze never left the animal as she waited, looking far more relaxed than she should. “This is a wolf-dog, but a very high concentration.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “Because I know him. Do me a favor and sit in the truck. Just leave the parking lights on.”

  “No way.” Ben was not about to leave her vulnerable, in the dark, with this wild animal while he sat and watched her get attacked.

  “Ben,” she repeated, her voice more adamant, “he’s not growling at me. He’s growling at you. Now, get in the truck.”

  Ben realized she was right as the animal met his gaze, each growl louder than the last, before the beast’s gaze looked at Emma warily. He took a hesitant step back and the hair on the scruff of the wolf’s neck seemed to lie flatter.

  “Are you sure?” If she was wrong, the consequences could be disastrous. However, he wasn’t doing her much good right now, aggravating the beast. He was going to have to trust that she could take care of herself with the animal.

  “Yes.”

  Ben took a few steps back, never taking his eyes off Emma, prepared to rush back to her side, even if it meant putting himself between her and the wolf. Instead, the wolf looked back at her, his lip dropping back over his teeth and his entire demeanor taking on a more relaxed stance.

  “Cana, sit.” Emma stood slowly, watching the animal for any signs of attack, but he responded the way any well-trained dog would, by plopping his rear to the ground. “Just stay there for a minute, Ben.”

  “Cana, come on.”

  The wolf jumped up, trotting toward her as she walked to the porch, but not before shooting a wary glance back at the truck.

  “I’m going to get him settled into a kennel. Head inside after I get Cana to the barn.”

  She opened the back gate and Ben felt his pulse race as she disappeared from sight. There wasn’t a muscle in his body that wasn’t tensed, ready to charge into the barn, to jump between her and that animal but he could hear her talking to him the en
tire way, even though he couldn’t quite make out her words. He relaxed slightly. As long as he could hear her voice, he knew she was okay.

  It was the only thread of hope he could grasp onto since she’d insisted he head into the house, like a child being put in time-out. Ben moved one of the curtains aside in time to see her walking the wolf on a leash out to the building housing her kennels. He’d seen them during his brief volunteer stint, although they’d been empty at the time and he’d wondered at their purpose.

  This woman floored him, intriguing him with the few moments of vulnerability he saw, only to be awed by the courage she displayed. She was an open book in so many ways, yet a complete mystery in others. He dropped the curtain and waited for her to return, wandering into the living room.

  She hadn’t moved many of her father’s things from here since her arrival. His tastes still permeated the room with leather furniture, animal portraits and hundreds of books along a case that took up an entire wall, but there were a few new pictures. Ben picked one up off a shelf and studied it. It was easy to recognize a much younger Emma standing beside Conrad with a red-tailed hawk held on her arm. She was staring at the bird but her father was staring at her, pride beaming clearly from his face. He set it down and picked up one that was much more recent, showing Emma with her father again, but this time, he held the chain of a tiger and Emma was wearing a polo shirt for the animal park she’d worked at. While Conrad looked awed by the experience, Ben couldn’t help but notice the sadness in his expression.

  “He didn’t actually want me working there, but insisted I needed more experience than what vet school or growing up here had given me. However, he said he felt like he’d convinced me to sell my soul to a glorified zoo.” She sighed as she looked around his shoulder at the picture. “It’s a fine line between sanctuaries and zoos, really. In truth, I guess it comes down to how the money comes in.”

  “What do you mean?” He settled the frame back on the bookshelf and turned toward her, wanting to reach for her but seeing a hesitancy in her eyes.