by Seton, Cora
“Too many cooks in the kitchen?” she suggested.
“Something like that. I guess we’ll have to sort it out.”
“What about Regan?”
“I only met her for a day or two. She seems okay. Kind of on fire to redecorate the Hall.” He chuckled. “The two of you might get along like gangbusters.”
She smiled, but felt a jolt of territoriality at the thought of another woman with ideas about how things ought to be done. On the other hand, she’d claimed the bunkhouse, so maybe it was okay that Regan directed the renovation of the Hall.
“How did your planning go?”
“Good. I figure I’ll scout around some this week, and as soon as Mason gets back from his honeymoon, we’ll purchase the critters.”
“Tell me about them.”
“Well.” He leaned back. “We’ll get slightly more than a hundred pair of cattle—cows and calves—in case of attrition. About twenty horses all told. Mason mentioned something about chickens. That means you and I need to get the hen house fixed up. Anything else you care for?”
“A dog.” The words popped out of her mouth. A dog? Did she want a dog?
After consideration she decided, yes, she did, because she wanted a friend—a real friend with no ulterior motives. Someone she could take with her when she left next year. She wanted protection. And love. Unconditional love.
“A dog, huh?” He thawed a little. He’d been holding himself aloof since he ran out on her in the bunkhouse earlier. This was the real Austin. The man that drew her like a moth to the flame. “We can get a dog. How about we hit the pound tomorrow and pick one up?”
A rueful smile stretched over her face before she could stop it. “Sorry—you’ll have to hit the pound on your own. I’m hiding out, remember?”
Chapter 11
‡
Ella smiled, and just like that Austin was sizzling with want again. Hell, yeah, he’d get her a dog. He’d do just about anything if she smiled at him like that. It took an effort to keep things friendly but cool as they finished their pizza and washed up. When he caught her suppressing a yawn, he said, “Would you like to call it a night?” She slid a glance his way and he knew what she was wondering. “I’m not suggesting anything.”
“Too bad.” Ella clapped a hand to her mouth and her cheeks stained a pretty shade of pink. “I mean—”
He knew exactly what she meant and he wanted it, too.
“We said we were done with that.”
“We are done with it. We’re completely done with it.”
He didn’t think he was. Austin’s whole body was burning with the desire to pull her toward him and kiss her embarrassment away. Instead he said, “Would you like me to grab some bedding and camp out down here?”
When she shook her head, he breathed a sigh of relief and then rolled his eyes inwardly at his own stupidity. She was off limits—entirely off limits. He had to get a hold of himself and stop lusting after her like she was his… wife.
“We’ll stick to our own sides of the bed. Backs turned,” she said and headed toward the staircase.
He followed her up to the room Regan had set up for them, thanking God for the circumstances that would have them sharing a bed, at least. The truth was he wanted so much more. Ella dug around in her bag and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. Austin raised his eyebrows before he could stop himself. That’s what a Hollywood actress wore to sleep in?
When she headed toward the bathroom, Austin blinked. “A little late for modesty, don’t you think?”
“According to my grandmother, it’s never too late for modesty.” She shut the door firmly behind her.
Austin sighed and took the opportunity to strip down to his boxers. When she was done in the bathroom, she stepped back into the bedroom and stopped, taking him in. She opened her mouth, shut it firmly and marched over to the bed, sliding under the covers on the side of the bed that Austin thought of as his. Well, he’d remedy that in a minute. He took some time in the bathroom himself, came back out, stripped off his boxers and unceremoniously yanked back the covers, scooped Ella up and deposited her on the other side of the bed.
She shrieked, first at his nakedness and then at being moved bodily aside. “Hey!”
“Hey, what?” He turned off the light, but not before he enjoyed her outraged expression.
“That’s my side! And you’re not wearing any clothes!”
“Correction. It was your side. Now it’s mine. And if you haven’t noticed, it’s June; you’re going to roast in what you’re wearing.”
“You can’t barge in here like that and take my side of the bed.”
“I’ll wrestle you for it.” As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he could make out her face more clearly, and he laughed when he saw her reaction. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”
She flipped over onto her other side, her back to him. “We agreed not to do that anymore.”
“Wrestle?”
“You know what I mean. No sex!”
Yes, he did know. And he’d meant it when he’d said it. Somehow his determination had slipped away in the meantime. Austin turned his back on Ella, but every nerve in his body was aware of her close proximity.
This was going to be a long night.
* * *
It would be much easier to get to sleep if she didn’t know Austin was naked beside her in the bed. All she had to do was turn over, and she could touch every inch of him.
Every glorious inch.
He’d felt so good to touch this afternoon, but they’d made a wise decision when they pledged never to be together again. Austin didn’t want the kind of relationship where she told him how safe he made her feel. She didn’t want that either—not really. She definitely didn’t want a man who walked out on her when she spoke up about her feelings.
For now they’d keep apart until they’d gotten comfortable with each other. Until looking at Austin no longer aroused her.
If that was even possible.
Ella sighed and plucked the fabric of her T-shirt away from her. Austin was right, it was far too warm for this many clothes.
As carefully as she could, she pulled the light comforter off of her, leaving her curled on her side with no covering. That was better.
A little.
She was still sweating. Her T-shirt really wasn’t that heavy—it was the sweatpants that were the problem. If she still wore her panties under them she’d have them shucked off in a second, but she’d ditched her panties when she’d changed, opting for a looser outfit. Now she had two options. Keep the pants on and sweat off all the pounds she’d gained from eating pizza, or take them off and risk Austin realizing how… accessible… she was.
Another ten minutes and her decision was made. The sweat pants had to go. Could she get them off without Austin realizing, though? She guessed she’d find out. She inched the pants over her hips slowly, then began to shimmy them down, using her toes to grab onto the fabric and pull them down. Finally they pooled around her ankles. Bringing her knees up, she tugged the pants all the way off and kicked them to the bottom of the bed.
Her T-shirt covered her bottom, barely, and she realized she needed her covers back on. As she slid her hand across the mattress behind her, groping for the light comforter, she came in contact with something warm and rounded.
Was that Austin’s ass?
“I thought you said sex was off limits.”
Ella snatched her hand back. “I was looking for the covers.”
Movement behind her told her Austin had sat up. He was looking at her—at her bare legs and bare… She checked the hem of her T-shirt, tugging it down a little more. Austin sighed heavily. “Here you go.”
The comforter landed on top of her, and Ella hurriedly smoothed it into place. That was better, although it would be better still if she’d kept her pants on.
Austin lay back down beside her and Ella turned over. Now they were both on their backs staring up at the ceiling.
“We
need a bigger bed. California King at least.” She shifted restlessly.
“Do they get any bigger than that?”
“I don’t know. I think we should find out.”
“Not sure a California King will fit in the bunkhouse.”
“We’ll make it fit.”
Austin chuckled. Under the covers, his hand found hers and he gave it a squeeze. “I promise I won’t touch you.”
“You’re touching me now.”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he ran his thumb over her palm. She disentangled their fingers. After a moment, he ran his finger down her bare thigh.
Ella shivered despite the warm evening. “Austin.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
His voice was low, sensual, tugging at her heart strings in all the wrong ways. She growled in frustration. He slid his palm over her thigh this time, stroking her down to her knee and then up again.
“Why are you doing that?”
He stroked her again. “Tell me to stop and I will.”
“We said no touching, no pillow talk. Definitely no sex!”
“Then you climbed under the covers with me and took off your pants.” He made it all sound so reasonable. He inched closer to her, turned on his side and pulled her back against him. His hand stroked her thigh again and the hardness of his erection pressed against her bottom. She sighed and curved into the warmth of his hand.
Austin skimmed it higher, up under her loose T-shirt. In another moment, his palm caressed her breast. Ella’s breath caught.
“You haven’t told me to stop.” His low words tickled her and she shut her eyes, saying nothing. With a satisfied groan, Austin picked her up and turned her over under the covers, leaving her pressed against him from chin to toe. Immediately her body conformed to his, her thighs straddling him, his hardness pressed against her core. Both of his hands slid down to smooth over her bottom, to roll her against him. Ella groaned.
“Let’s get this off.” He shucked off her T-shirt before she could react, then reached up to take one nipple into his mouth. He bit and nipped and toyed with it until it peaked hard, while rolling the tip of her other breast in his hand. Ella felt the pull of his touch all the way through her, heating her up and making her want more.
Much more.
“Austin.” She rolled her hips against him again. She couldn’t wait to feel him pushing inside of her. Couldn’t wait for him to fill her up. When they were together she forgot about everything but him and that was exactly what she wanted—to be here, right now, and to forget everything else. He reached for the bedside table, opened a drawer, searched around and found a condom. Had it on himself in another moment. He pulled her back on top.
When she gave him a look, he said sheepishly, “I stole the box from Mason’s bathroom just in case. If he and Regan are trying to get pregnant they won’t need them.”
“When did you steal it?”
“While you showered.”
“So you figured we’d do this again.”
He shrugged. “I hoped so.” He lifted her hips and positioned her. “Ready?”
“Yes.” Ella sank down on top of him until he filled her, moaning at the sensation. Was this so much fun because it was illicit, or would Austin turn her on this much no matter what? She rose up and sunk down again, feeling all of him, enjoying every bit of friction, each sensation his body was bringing to hers.
She slid her hands over his shoulders, marveling at the width of them. When he began to move beneath her, she gave herself up to him entirely, allowing him to set the pace, to push into her and pull out again in a rhythm that soon had her panting with need, with the desire for more, and more, and—
When her release crashed over her, Ella bucked against Austin, calling out again and again as his voice joined hers. She felt him crash against her, felt his hands crush her hips against his. Long moments later she collapsed against him, breathing hard, still joined together, but content to rest here, listening to his heart once more.
His arms tightened around her and for one long minute he held her close. Ella hardly dared to breathe. The last time they’d rested like this, he’d run away the moment she’d spoken. But this time he didn’t pull away, and after several minutes, she closed her eyes again and relaxed. It was nice to lay here in Austin’s arms. Nice to feel the touch of a man. She would just rest here for a minute.
Chapter 12
‡
Austin lay still for a long time after Ella fell asleep, still in his arms, still joined with him. When her breathing had evened out for several minutes, he slipped out of her, set her gently to the side, and got out of bed to clean himself up. Back in just a minute or two, he meant to keep to his side of the bed, but soon found himself curled around Ella’s sleeping figure spoon-fashion, drawn to her warm, luscious body.
She was beautiful, sensuous, womanly. Delicious. She made him rock-hard and ready—not just for sex, but for a connection.
But that was lust talking, wasn’t it? He didn’t know Ella well enough to feel any other kind of connection with her. His body might try to trick him into thinking he did, but it wasn’t true.
Couldn’t be true.
He turned away from her and tried to fool himself into thinking that he was alone. Back in Afghanistan, even. He pictured Donovan. That ought to work like a cold shower.
But instead of Donovan’s lifeless body, he saw Donovan alive. And Donovan gave him a thumbs-up and a wide, congratulatory smile.
His friend was never one to cock-block a fellow; he was just as happy for a buddy as he was when he was the lucky one. He felt they were all in it together, so to speak.
Just like Briggs had said before he left the Special Forces; Donovan would kick his ass if he knew Austin was holding himself back out of a twisted sense of loyalty. That didn’t make it any easier on him. If Donovan were alive, Austin was sure he could let himself enjoy this situation. A beautiful woman stretched out beside him. A beautiful woman who now bore his name.
But Donovan wasn’t alive, and he never would be. He’d never have another girlfriend, let alone a wife. And if he couldn’t, Austin shouldn’t either. It wasn’t fair.
He pictured himself in a landscape as far away from Montana as you could get. He imagined the hot, dry winds that swept across Afghanistan, the grit that got into your clothes and eyes and mouth. The smells and sounds so different from home.
But it didn’t work. He was all too aware that he could turn over and bury himself deep within Ella at any time.
* * *
The following day it seemed as if they’d made a pact not to speak of what had happened. Instead, they focused on the bunkhouse renovation. Austin told Ella that he would help her frame in the two offices she’d asked for, and the extra windows, too. Once the heavy lifting was done, he’d leave her to paint and decorate any way she pleased. After a quick breakfast and successive showers, Ella showed him the plans she’d drawn up and he did some quick calculations for the amount and types of lumber they’d need.
“Since we aren’t building any load-bearing walls and we don’t plan to do any new wiring, this shouldn’t be hard. I’m going to ask at the lumber yard who’s doing handy work these days. I’d like help installing the windows.” He picked up his keys, which had been sitting on the kitchen counter. “Coming?”
Ella hesitated. “I can’t, remember? Would you mind stopping at the grocery store, too?” She handed him the list she’d composed. He read it over and shoved it in his pocket.
“You really think hiding here will keep the press away?”
She nodded. “I hope so. I’m not looking forward to those interviews.”
A funny expression crossed his face. “If they… When they come, will they only be interested in you? Or are they going to dig around on all of us?”
“By all of us do you mean you?”
“Yeah.” He tossed the keys up a little and caught them. “There are things I don’t need to be reminded of.”
She wish
ed she could assure him that the press would leave him alone. “I’m sorry.”
His shoulders slumped a fraction. “I guess you’d better stay here then. Is there anything else you need while I’m away? I’ll stop in at Fila’s and remind them to keep a lid on what they know.”
She wanted to tell him not to bother. People talked. They always talked. But she understood he needed to do something to make himself feel less vulnerable to the press. She wished she could ease her own mind by telling herself that if enough time went by, everyone would lose interest, but this story was too juicy—too full of humiliation for the tabloids to pass up. They’d dig it up and trot it out every few months for years, probably. They’d cycle through ever more twisted and sensational versions of the story. They’d say Anthony had thrown her over for Kaylee, or that she had thrown him over for a cowboy, or that Kaylee had double-crossed them both, or that she and Anthony were getting back together. It would go on and on and on.
At least if she remained on the ranch and kept her cell phone off, she wouldn’t have to know about it. “Do you have a library card?”
“I could get one.”
“I could use some books for off-hours. And another one of those Afghan tacos.”
“You think you’re going to have off-hours?” The tension relaxed from Austin’s shoulders and his grin disarmed her.
“I’m going to have an off-hour right now while you go to town.”
“Ah. I have just the thing for that. Come on.” He led the way to the back door. Ella followed him, taking the opportunity to appreciate the view. Even the way Austin walked turned her on. He was so confident. He had every right to be, she told herself with a smile, remembering their romp the previous night.
Austin led the way toward the barns and showed her a small shed-like enclosure. “This is the chicken coop. It needs a thorough cleaning and repair before we get our birds. It’s too late in the season to start chicks, so we’ll buy some pullets. You’ll find some work gloves and any tools you need in that building.” He pointed to another, slightly larger shed. “And you can let me know what needs fixing when I get back.”