In It to Win It

by Morgan Kearns

  WOUNDED PRIDE TENDED TO HURT WORSE than a punch to the jaw. A broken heart was more excruciating than any broken bone. Grayson knew both from firsthand experience. Knew both thanks to the woman who had once again pushed him away.

  Their kiss, their first kiss, had been perfect. When he’d initiated it, he wondered if she would gasp and slap him. Instead she’d responded, wrapped her arms around his neck and even played with his hair. He loved when women played with the hair at the base of his neck. But knowing that it was Jane’s nimble fingers weaving amongst the strands had done very pleasurable things to his body.

  She’d melted against him. She’d kissed him back. For a moment, she’d been his.

  He wasn’t sure how telling her that her freckles were adorable killed the mood. But it had, just as if he’d doused her with a bucket of cold water. That was what he needed now. He needed a cold shower—in a bad way.

  Wounded pride aside, his body was still hot. More than hot—he was nuclear!

  The moments he’d spent with her on the road had proven that he was still attracted to her, but after tasting Jane, just a small, miniscule taste, he wanted her with an intensity that made him nuts. The feelings he’d thought might have been diluted over the last fifteen years were fully concentrated and stronger than ever.

  Grayson wasn’t too proud to admit to himself that he’d loved Jane in high school. He’d loved the insecure, nerdy girl. He’d never thought she was plain, he’d thought she was beautiful—in a girl next door kind of way. He saw through the braces and glasses and acne. Back then, in his mind’s eye, he pictured what she’d be as a woman—as his wife.

  His imagination hadn’t come close.

  The grown-up version of his Jane was drop-dead gorgeous! He wanted to feel her long hair spread over his bare chest. He wanted to swim in the depths of her seafoam green eyes as they darkened with desire for him. He wanted to melt into her soft luscious red lips. He wanted lose himself in the soft curves of her body.

  He wasn’t delusional enough to try to convince himself of anything else—he wanted her.

  Grayson wanted Jane.

  9

  THE SMALL STOP AT THE BARN HADN’T HELP- ed Jane’s out of control emotions. After their kiss and her accusations, he’d left her standing alone in the cold. Instead of following him inside, she left him to do what needed to be done, climbing back inside the Jeep to wait. She’d felt a little irrational for the way she’d snapped at him and pushed him away. But she couldn’t bear the closeness.

  He was gone for ten minutes or so before he came back out and climbed behind the wheel. His face was drawn up tight, an emotionless mask.

  “Is everything okay?” Jane asked softly.

  He nodded but didn’t look at her. “Yeah, I think Daisy’s about ready.”

  He didn’t say another word as he drove them over to where some troughs were set up in the middle of an empty pasture. He angled the Jeep to use the headlights, hopped out of the Jeep and unlocked a gate that stood between the cattle and their food source.

  Grayson grabbed a bale of hay, each hand wrapping around a piece of baling twine. With an ease that surprised Jane he carried it over to the troughs. He reached into his pocket, producing a large pocket knife. A few quick slices and the hay was ready for distribution.

  As Grayson used a pitchfork to spread the hay Jane found herself wanting to see him do this same act in the summertime, when the sun would reflect off his sweat-dampened skin.

  She’d barely gained some control of her overactive imagination when Grayson opened the door and climbed behind the wheel. A swipe of his hand removed his hat and he got out again to shuck his coat. His movements were jerky and frustrated. He chucked the coat and hat into the backseat, slid into the driver’s seat and put the Jeep into gear.

  The cows were coming from every direction as he turned the Jeep around and drove to the house.

  The glimpse of lights Jane saw earlier were only a fraction of what actually adorned the house. Trees and bushes twinkled in reds and greens and whites along with the bright white bulbs that glowed on the roofline.

  By the décor on the outside, Jane shouldn’t have been shocked by the inside. Walking in the front door, Jane noticed two trees decked out from trunk to top and every needle in between. She spotted the mistletoe hanging over the doorway and quickly stepped out from under it. Like she needed to make that mistake again. Things had been painfully awkward since he’d walked away from her and into the barn. She liked the idea of kissing Grayson but knew that it was a really, really bad idea.

  Given the agonizing silence, the situation had disaster written all over it! It was going to be a very long week.

  “Did your mom do all this?” she asked, motioning to the decorations.

  “No way.” He helped her out of her coat and hung it on the coat tree next to the door. When he turned he was smiling and the tension had melted out of his shoulders. And melted out of the room. “I love Christmas. It’s my thing.”

  She laughed. “Christmas and baseball.”

  He chuckled softly. “Yeah, Christmas and baseball. Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

  She followed him up the stairs, careful to not grab too tightly on the garland that was wrapped around the railing. He pushed open the first doorway on the left and set her suitcase next to a chest of drawers. His hand motioned toward a door off to the right. “There are clean towels in the bathroom. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Why don’t we go down and get a bite to eat.”

  “Sounds good.”

  He led her back down the stairs and into a beautiful kitchen, complete with marble countertops, stainless steel appliances and hardwood floors. He waved an arm at a stool. Jane pulled it out and climbed onto it. Using a fingertip to trace a natural line in the smooth marble, she watched as Grayson stood with the refrigerator door open. His shoulders were back to being tight.

  Good grief, he was making her tense too!

  Quietly she slipped from her stool and walked to him, putting her hand on his shoulder. He jumped and whirled around to face her, the fridge door closed with a pop. She smiled, at least she hoped she smiled, it felt more like a snarl.

  “It’s okay, Grayson. I’m not really that hungry.” Just then her stomach growled and she groaned.

  He smiled, an honest-to-goodness smile, one that showed off his dentist’s expertise. One dark brow rose. “You may not be hungry, but I am. And, with Daisy being so close, it’s going to be a long night. How about a sandwich?”

  “A sandwich sounds great. Can I help?”

  He nodded just a bit, pointing at a white door in the middle of the chocolate brown wall. “Bread’s in there. I’ll grab everything else. Ham or turkey?” he asked, opening the fridge again.

  Dinner was quick and easy. Turkey sandwiches, chips, and some baked beans that Jane had also plucked from the pantry. Neither of them said much, which was okay with Jane. She wasn’t sure what to say.

  She volunteered to do the dishes and watched as Grayson grabbed his jacket just before heading for the door. “I’ll probably be out all night. Make yourself at home.”

  As she looked around the kitchen, she knew just how much she wanted to be at home in Grayson’s home. She quickly cleaned up from dinner and then made her way up to the room Grayson had given her. Jane sat on the edge of the bed and reflected on the last few hours.

  Her emotions had run the gamut; excitement, intrigue, desire, and an overwhelming fear of losing her heart to Grayson. And did she mention desire? She had to hand it to him; Grayson Pierce was one hell of a kisser.

  Not that that fact was an earth-shattering newsflash.

  The man was full of surprises, though. He lived on a ranch in the middle of nowhere. He had horses and cows, for hell’s sake! His home had been the most surprising of all. Jane wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t this.

  The house was large, alright. That had been expected. The wra
p-around porch filled with rocking chairs, the metal roof that probably sounded really cool in a rain storm, and the ten-foot oak double doors hadn’t been. Nor had the high ceilings and slip-peeled wood poles covered in Christmas garb that supported the second floor.

  The living room was filled with simplistic furnishings. Nice—really nice, top of the line but simple. Four beige leather La-Z-Boy recliners formed an arc in front of an enormous plasma television perched on a walnut stand. Three small end tables separated the chairs. Grayson’s chair was the one just left of the middle table, Jane noted. The remote control and a Coke can rested closest to that chair.

  Running her fingers over the soft worn leather, she thought of Grayson; the way he’d kissed her and then stormed away, busying himself in his work as a distraction. He’d been into their kiss, she couldn’t deny that. Physically, at least, he wanted her. But she didn’t want a quick tumble, adding herself to the list of anonymous women, who’d been loved and left by the great Grayson Pierce.

  She wanted more from him.

  As she’d looked around from the rough light oak floors to the expensive television, she realized she wanted it all. Not the possessions. She worked hard and made good money and was doing just fine all by herself. But she didn’t want to be all by herself anymore.

  She wanted the happily-ever-after.

  With Grayson.

  No, she didn’t. She really didn’t.

  The rumbling of a diesel engine brought her back to the present. She stood up, making her way to the window. She pushed the red gingham curtains aside and looked out. Just as promised Trent was bringing her car. He stepped out and made quick work of unhooking the little blue car from his tow truck. He didn’t dawdle, didn’t even look at the house. He just left, his taillights fading from sight.

  Jane looked out into the darkness. From her vantage point, she could make out the lights coming from the windows of the barn. That’s where Grayson was—and where she unexpectedly needed to be with a vehemence that frightened her.

  With jerky movements, evidence of her self-imposed need to hurry, she searched for her keys. They were in the side pocket of her suitcase. Tucking them into her jeans pocket, she changed from her light sweater into one that was fluffy and thick and warm, and all but ran down the stairs, grabbing her coat just before she dashed out into the cold.

  Stars twinkled brightly, the sky cloudless. Grandpa used to tell her that a cloudless sky meant the night was going to be “cold as a witch’s tit”. As her own body reacted to the chill she laughed softly. It certainly was cold tonight. Thankfully, her own breasts were warm beneath her clothing.

  She drove the short distance to the barn and wondered if she was doing the right thing. But before she could talk herself out of going inside, she climbed out of the car. The barn door opened silently. Jane wasn’t sure why she expected it to squeak and didn’t even realize she had until the silence surprised her. The sight inside though completely flabbergasted her.

  A gold palomino mare—Daisy, Jane assumed—lay on her side, panting. Grayson knelt at her side, rubbing his hand over her swollen belly and saying soothing things in a kind, low voice. Every muscle in the horse tightened and Grayson reacted quickly, bending his head to Daisy’s ear. Jane could see his lips moving and wished she could hear what he was saying.

  As Daisy relaxed a bit, she nuzzled his leg with her nose. She whinnied faintly and swished her flaxen tail against the clean straw. Long lashes dropped over the huge brown eye that was visible and Jane noted that this horse trusted Grayson wholeheartedly. With her life.

  Jane hadn’t noticed that she’d taken a step forward, but Daisy had, twisting in the direction of her approach. Grayson’s head jerked up only a fraction of second later. His expression was confused followed quickly by recognition.

  “I didn’t expect you,” he whispered.

  “To be honest, I didn’t expect to be here.” She closed the door and warmth wrapped around her like a blanket.

  He made a motion to stand, but Daisy seemed reluctant to let him leave her side. Jane held up a hand, encouraging him to stay where he was. “Is it okay if I…?” she asked, motioning toward him. The last thing she wanted was to make Daisy uncomfortable.

  Grayson ran a hand over Daisy’s neck, whispering, “It’s okay, girl. She’s a friend,” as he did so. When he looked up at Jane he smiled. “Come on over. Just go slow.”

  Jane walked so slowly that the short distance seemed to take forever. She shrugged out of her coat and laid it over the side of the stall then in a deliberate unhurried motion she knelt beside Daisy. Easing her hand out, she ran her fingertips over the hard stomach. It moved and Jane gasped.

  Grayson chuckled softly. “I think she’s ready to have this over with.”

  His hand moved toward Jane only to yank back and get shoved almost violently into the pocket of his jeans. The plaid flannel sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, showing off his muscular forearms. His dark hair stuck up in wild disarray. The shadow of his beard darkened his cheekbones. Totally sexy.

  “Why … I mean, it’s okay that you’re here, but I don’t understand—”

  “You did say that you wanted to share this with me, right?”

  “Yeah. Hell, yeah.” He studied her, his eyes moving slowly, intently over every inch of her face. “I’m sorry. I guess I was distracted when I came out here. I totally forgot that you’d never … Shit. I’m sorry, Janie.”

  “It’s okay.” She watched in amazement as her fingers moved out to push his hair off his forehead. The motion touted a familiarity that should have sent her running for the hills. Instead those damned fingers traced his brow, traveling down the prickly hair on his cheekbone, coming to rest on the soft whiskers of his goatee.

  His breath was warm on her fingers. Hers had stopped in her lungs, suddenly unwilling to go neither in nor out. Her heart however was pounding violently within her ribcage. Her thumb moved over his top lip, moving around one side of his mouth, his chin, then the other side of his mouth, stopping on the small scar on the upper left side of his lip.

  In a movement she didn’t anticipate, he pulled her thumb into his mouth and gave it a quick hard suck. Her eyes widened and she was sure that she looked like a deer about to get plowed over by a semi. That was what she felt like.

  She was in very dangerous territory.

  They stood in a moment suspended. Both of them staring into the eyes of the other. Neither of them willing to move and break the spell. His tongue swirled around her thumb and heat spread up her arm, through her torso and down her legs until her entire body felt like it might spontaneously combust.

  Thankfully, Daisy doused the inferno before it could catch.

  With ease she jumped to her feet, paced around the stall. Her belly tightened and Daisy gave a small snort. Grayson grabbed Jane by the hand and backed both of them away from Daisy, who dropped to her knees and onto her belly. She rolled from one side to the other then rested for a moment, breathing heavy.

  Jane watched in awe. “Shouldn’t you call the vet?”

  Grayson chuckled. “Nah. Daisy and I will be able to handle it. If there’s a problem, I can call the vet. I gave him a heads-up.”

  Another contraction brought a tiny hoof and white leg into view. Daisy once again stood, pacing in a circuit around the stall. The fresh straw crunched under her hooves. Her front legs dropped and the rest of her followed until she once again rested on her belly.

  Grayson moved quickly to the rear of the horse and waited until the muscles of Daisy’s belly squeezed the little one, pushing it out. Grayson grabbed the front legs and tugged with the contraction, assisting with the birth. The little body slid free, coming to rest amongst the straw that was very similar in color to the new horse.

  Jane was overcome and tears flowed freely down her cheeks. She didn’t bother blotting them away. It wasn’t like Grayson would notice. All of his attention was on Daisy and her baby.

  Daisy turned her head around to sniff at her you
ng. Their noses met. Jane sniffled. Grayson’s eyes flicked upward for a split second then he let her have her privacy. His notice didn’t diminish the overwhelming emotion of the experience he’d shared with her. She’d never been so happy that she’d done the unexpected and just done what she wanted. The old Jane would have stayed tucked away in the bedroom where he’d left her. She wasn’t old Jane anymore.

  “I’m gonna be a while, if you wanna go back up to the house.”

  “I’ll wait,” she said, wondering just how long a while was going to be.

  Grayson nodded and began working with the horses. Jane leaned against the wall and slid down until with her back against wood and her legs outstretched. She pulled her jacket to cover her like a blanket.

  The last thing she remembered was Grayson brushing Daisy and telling her that she was a “good girl”.

  Jane wondered whether the horse was a colt or a filly. She’d forgotten to ask and, in this very moment, she was too tired to voice the question.

  GRAYSON’S ATTENTION SHOULD HAVE BEEN completely devoted to the horse he was brushing. He was just going through the motions though. His thoughts were on Jane. When she’d started to cry, it had taken every ounce of control he had not to rush to her and gather her up in his arms and comfort her.

  He’d never seen Jane cry. He knew she was capable of tears, everyone was. Jane was a tough girl. At least that was the façade she put on for the world. Back in the days when she’d been his tutor—even though he was acing the class—the mask had cracked a bit. She wasn’t stuffy. She wasn’t the kind of girl who wanted to sit on the sidelines and pretend the world passing her by didn’t matter.

  Grayson believed he knew Jane Alexander.

  And he wanted to give her everything.

  He ushered Daisy and her new colt into the other stall and closed them in, then went to work on cleaning out the soiled straw. When the chores were complete, Grayson stood and admired Jane.