Foolin'

by Allyson Young

  “Bigger quantity,” Lisa observed, tacitly agreeing to shelve her critique, “and it’s not often we have steaks. What’s next?”

  “Set the table and get things ready.” She shot a look at the clock. “We generally eat at six.”

  The hands stomped in, right on time. All of them had made an extra effort, it seemed, whether in her honor or her beautiful daughter’s. They were cleaned up with hair slicked back and instead of dropping into their respective chairs, they milled awkwardly around the perimeter of the table.

  Kathleen introduced them to Lisa who acted sweet and demure, and when Carter came in bearing a huge platter of grilled meat, everyone scrambled to sit. With plates full, the men fell to, as if they hadn’t eaten for ages.

  “Carter’s the only one who can grill,” George mumbled. “He butchered a steer as soon as he knew you were coming.”

  Lisa stilled, and her fork hovered over her steak.

  “You aren’t eating the steer, Lisa. It wouldn’t have been aged properly,” Carter said.

  George’s remark made little sense then, and Kathleen felt her brow furrow. The older man said, “He traded it for some aged cuts.”

  She smiled at Carter. He was making such an effort to welcome her.

  Lisa said, “You eat the cattle you, uh, raise?”

  “Where did you think meat came from, honey?” Kathleen conveniently forgot her own qualms from Friday night. Not that she’d get attached to a steer—ever.

  “Right. It’s just different for me.” She sliced off another piece of steak. “It’s really good.”

  Josh, who alternated between staring avidly at her daughter and at his plate whenever she looked his way, said, “You’re staying here.”

  “I am. Just me.” She nearly laughed when he flushed and tried to hide his disappointment.

  Hank said, “Too bad you weren’t back in time to make dessert.”

  “Tomorrow,” she promised. The hands all looked at her as if she wrought magic.

  She might not appeal to them the way Lisa did, but she had them at their bellies. Catching Carter’s gaze, she felt fine that the only man she was interested in wanted more than mere dessert. She gave him the same look back and enjoyed it when he shifted in his chair and cleared his throat.

  The men filed out, uttering their thanks and farewells, Josh the last to leave. Lisa didn’t appear to notice, and his shoulders slumped.

  The three of them went to the great room, and Carter lit a fire, flooding the room with ambient light, the sun now lower in the west.

  Lisa said, “I love it in here.”

  They chatted desultorily. While the conversation lacked real warmth, Carter asked Lisa about school and her work, smiling at her anecdotes about dealing with the impatient public. He answered her questions about a working ranch as she tried to deal with the scope. There were no further moments like the one in the kitchen, and Kathleen relaxed. She wished the two important people in her life weren’t quite as stiff with one another—Carter actually appeared cautious—but what could she expect so soon?

  “I should be going before it gets dark. I’ll be fine on the main highway, but I want to take my time on the gravel.” Lisa rose to her feet, snagging her purse.

  “Text me when you get home.”

  “Of course. And you keep me in the loop every day.”

  “As always.” She held her breath. She hadn’t done that last weekend. But Lisa let it go.

  “Good to meet you, Carter.”

  “Same, Lisa. Come see your mom anytime.”

  She hugged her child and then standing beside Carter on the porch, watched as Lisa drove away.

  He ushered her back inside. “She’s a good kid.”

  “She is. I’m very proud of her.”

  “I don’t blame her for being skeptical of me.” He drew her close. “And the situation.”

  She laughed. “You talk about role reversal. I shudder to think what’ll happen when I’m old, and she picks out my nursing home.”

  He nuzzled her temple. “She has your best interests at heart.”

  “Indeed she does.”

  “Merry and Deke know you arrived today.”

  “Okay.” This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have in the foyer, as happy as she was to stand within the circle of his arms. “Let’s make some tea. Something herbal.”

  “Tea?”

  She peered at him. “You don’t have any tea?”

  “I have coffee. Tea wasn’t on the list.”

  No way could she do coffee this late in the day. Mind you, she intended to be wide awake later. “Sweet tea then.”

  Over glasses of the beverage, he said, “Merry was disappointed that she didn’t see you on the weekend. Turns out she was worried she’d put you off Friday night. I think Deke must have explained it wasn’t about her and she’s okay with it but now…”

  “Now, she wants to vet her brother-in-law’s…” She had no idea what to label herself.

  “My girlfriend,” he said firmly.

  Girlfriends sometimes moved in and took over the running of a household while their boyfriends did the other things. She’d go with that. “Do they know—”

  “No. I thought about it from your point of view and how it might look to others, so I’ll leave it to you. If you wanna share about the bookkeeping job.”

  “I’d think it would be natural. It’s what I do.” Should she say he paid her? Like a business expense write off? “We’ll see.”

  “Okay.” He looked around the kitchen.

  “We should clean up.”

  “There’s something else I’d like to do.”

  “Me, too, but I don’t want to deal with this before breakfast. Let’s put the plates to soak in the sink with the cutlery. Wipe down the surfaces.” The plastic containers that held the sides were scraped clean and only required rinsing for the recycle bin she planned to introduce. Surely the town had a facility.

  “I want you to come first, Kathleen.”

  “Don’t I always?” Talking dirty came back easily too.

  He smirked. “I should hope so, but I meant sometimes this kind of thing can wait.”

  “Your work can’t.” And she supposed there’d be times when she wouldn’t care for that fact.

  “Sometimes, no,” he agreed. “But I like your idea. And the dishwasher’s here. Ready for install. You can christen it in the morning.”

  Working quietly, they piled the sink full. And then Carter chased her upstairs, Kathleen squealing like a girl, anticipation fluttering in her belly.

  He’d have taken over the lovemaking, as was his obvious preference, but she was in a mood to establish herself. When he stripped her—and then himself—she slipped away from his questing hands. “Sit, Carter.”

  His forehead furrowed but he lowered to the mattress, his cock a solid bar against his belly. She knelt between his legs, urging his knees to splay apart, his furred thighs soft against her hands.

  “Lord, Kathleen.” He groaned when she leaned in, and her hair swept over his skin.

  Abs flexing to sit upright, he worked his hands through the long strands to hold her head.

  She teased him with tiny forays of her lips, trailing them over the sensitive glans, her tongue flicking out at random intervals to taste his salty moisture. He tensed, and she could feel his effort not to take control.

  Keeping her lips tight, she pressed against his flesh, allowing increments of him past them before opening wide and taking him deep. He jerked and pulled her hair, a curse lingering in his throat as the sensation changed.

  Bringing her tongue into play, she worried the notch and followed the pulsing vein of his shaft as she bobbed over his length, fighting her gag reflex, his thickness filling her throat.

  “I’m gonna—” He urged her back, but she resisted, sucking harder, cupping his sac, and he came, spurts of his seed filling her mouth as she hastily swallowed.

  Sitting back on her heels, his fingers sliding loosely through her
hair, she eyed him with satisfaction, taking in his flushed face and heaving chest, his lids at half-mast.

  His eyes opened, and he studied her, his gaze slowly focusing. “Your mouth’s a lethal weapon. I never meant to come.”

  “Complaining?”

  “Jesus, no.” He was on her, lifting with that strength of his, and swiveled to dump her on the bed.

  Following her down, he did his own teasing, clearly recalling all the places she liked being touched, what she liked. When she was nearly begging, he rolled on a condom and took her over, his own orgasm taking long enough to build her to the brink again.

  She sank into sleep, sated and certain she’d made the right decision.

  Chapter Nine

  He lay beside her slumbering form, tucked against him like she’d been there all his life. Seeing that Jeep pull up earlier had calmed his fear that she’d come to her senses and run the other way.

  The way things had played out seemed too good to be true, and he wondered if it was fair to her. He was getting the best of everything—the best sex of his life, a terrific cook and housekeeper, presumably a gardener—all that fresh produce—and the companionship of a bright, happy woman. On top of that, help in his office.

  Kathleen insisted she loved the kitchen work and couldn’t wait to whip the garden into shape. She wasn’t as enthusiastic about the cleaning, but with him and the hands respecting her hard work, it wouldn’t be the disaster she’d been introduced to. Talk about trial by fire.

  He could keep his end up where the sex was concerned. He suspected she’d been celibate since her husband died and a long, dry spell would be a delight to fulfill. He hoped he could keep up. And be creative.

  The bookkeeping… That niggled a little. Sharing that burden with a professional would be great. He knew he could manage, but it would mean more free time. More time with Kathleen. And he had to ensure her financial stability. He knew instinctively she’d hate to depend solely on him. And there was Lisa to consider.

  Lisa. He hadn’t been held accountable in a long time. She was warning him not to destroy her mom’s happiness. And Kathleen was happy. She sparkled. He felt and saw it and dared hope he was largely responsible for it. He hadn’t lied when he said he was happy too.

  He turned over on his side, putting his back to Kathleen, recognizing how unsettled he felt when he thought about Lisa. She hadn’t stayed long, and the hands had been a distraction, but the bond, the relationship between her and her mom, was so evident. It burned deep with envy in his soul, and he couldn’t seem to change that.

  It wasn’t right to feel that way—he knew that. But he couldn’t stop it. He screwed his eyes shut and breathed through the feeling, managing it—for now. For now.

  And Lisa’s comment about things being finite stung. Kathleen’s response had been measured and mature. Accurate. He’d be the first one to say that you couldn’t see the future. But he resolved to try not to ruin Kathleen’s happiness. Hadn’t he learned those lessons?

  She’d refused marriage—and he’d admit to a certain relief. His future, before meeting her, had never included that form of commitment, and even now he wondered why he’d asked. Surely his desperation to pursue the connection hadn’t warranted a proposal.

  A quiet groan escaped him. Kathleen was a woman who deserved it all. And he didn’t have it to give. The best he could do was to make her happy, meet her needs, and face the fact that connections didn’t last while trying never to think about it or telegraph it. Live in the moment and hope the moment meant a long time.

  “Carter?” Her sleepy mumble shut down his thoughts. Had she sensed his angst? “Are you okay?”

  He rolled over and eased close. “I’m fine, just taking stock that you’re here.”

  “I said I would be. Go to sleep. You have that ungodly hour ahead.”

  He stroked her hair, and her breathing steadied into little huffs. “Night, Kathleen.”

  Five o’clock took a long time to come as he drifted along the edges of sleep. When he made a decision, he stuck with it across the board, as he’d stick with this one. Thrilled to have her in his home. For as long as—

  Choking off the negativity, he eased out of bed so as not to wake her, and went to shower. She slept like the proverbial dead, and he was dressed and out the door without her moving a muscle. Something in the middle of his chest swelled to impede him taking a full breath as he studied her.

  Tearing himself away, he headed downstairs, detouring to his office. Calling up his email account, he cursed under his breath. He’d taken down the ad he’d placed after Kathleen agreed to move in, but the responses continued to hit his inbox.

  A couple of them caught his eye. Definite potential if Kathleen hadn’t come along. Guilt pinched. He was saving a lot of money. He resolved to negotiate in a way he’d never negotiated before to reimburse her well for any office work.

  With a puff of breath, he typed a quick negative response with thanks and sent them off. Deke was coming today for another round of vaccinations, so he needed to get moving and ensure the cow-calf pairs were sorted. On very little sleep. But Kathleen would be in his kitchen when he finished, waiting for him.

  ****

  Tired, dirty, and sporting a few bruises under his clothing, he found her in the second favorite place he’d hoped to—the kitchen. The fragrant scent of coffee filled the air, vying with what could only be cinnamon buns. He hadn’t had those since his mother moved to Florida.

  “Are those cinnamon buns?” Did he sound like a hopeful kid to her or only in his own ears?

  She came to him and stole a kiss. “I’ve got sausage and eggs too. I just thought a little something extra would go over well today. You look like you need it.”

  “The cows are feeling fractious today.”

  “Then have a cinnamon bun. And some protein.”

  Right, protein. Carbs alone wouldn’t cut it to get them through the day. But he could have both. The hands burst through the door, and he literally heard them sniff the air.

  She looked quite at home, wearing an apron she must have brought with her. As tired as he was, he relaxed in the warm room and filled his face, his stare rarely leaving her. All too soon, it was time to leave, and he kissed her goodbye.

  “Deke’ll probably stop by,” he warned her. “Especially when he learns about the buns.”

  “It’ll be nice to see him again.”

  “What are you up to today?”

  “The garden, first. I want to get it cleared out before it gets too warm. Then, housework. I want to accomplish some long overdue spring cleaning.” She smiled. “The usual. And I might supervise the dishwasher install.”

  He’d screwed up, scheduling the installation today. Ray wouldn’t expect him to be home—he’d worked in people’s houses unsupervised all the time. Finding Kathleen here would start the rumor mill. He’d rather answer any questions himself, but it was happening.

  “Ray knows his way around, so do what you like. But pace yourself.” He punctuated his order with a firm squeeze on one buttock. “One of the hands will rototill the garden. That machine’s a beast.”

  “Pushy,” she muttered but smiled wider.

  He joined his men and got back to work, Deke arriving as expected.

  His brother gestured toward the house. “She’s here?”

  “She’s here.”

  “You look ridden hard and put away wet. In a good way.” Chuckling, Deke hoisted his bag. “Merry is champing at the bit, but we’ll give her time to settle in.”

  “Miss Kate made fancy buns,” George contributed.

  Deke came up on point like a bird dog. “What kind of buns?”

  “Sticky and with cinnamon.”

  “Let’s get started. I feel a coffee break in my future.”

  So did Carter. He’d start a new tradition. He had reason to.

  As it turned out, there were no new traditions to be started that day. One of the holding pens failed, the result of a determined cow using
all her weight on a weak spot, and there went the rest of the day. Though they took a break for the noon meal.

  Lunch was a hurried affair. Deke charmed Kathleen out of a pastry, and they set a tentative date for the two couples to get together.

  By the time he got in for supper, his conversation had devolved to grunts and glowers. He could barely drum up enthusiasm for the shiny, new dishwasher. Except for the smile he reserved for her. Miss Kate. She’d raised a brow at George but didn’t protest the diminutive.

  The name conjured up a strict teacher, hair up in a bun, horn-rimmed glasses, and a propensity to send unruly students out into the hall—or maybe tutor them after class. A teacher who wore sexy lingerie under her staid, professional clothing. Like the lacy, black bra he’d spotted beneath her t-shirt. Even exhausted, he perked with interest.

  “Go veg on the couch,” she said. “Or in your recliner. I’ll join you soon enough.”

  He decided not to dispute her, running on fumes. She had to be tired too—the house was visibly cleaner and the quick glance he’d paid the garden let him know it was ready for planting, albeit too late for some plants and seeds.

  He fell asleep five minutes into the news, waking when she stroked his hair off his forehead. “Go to bed,” whispered.

  “If I do that, I’ll be awake in the middle of the night,” he grumped.

  “I’m not much of a morning person, but I don’t mind the middle of the night. A little energy expelled and you’d probably fall back asleep.” A few wisps of hair curled around her striking face, and she smelled of spice.

  He stumbled up the stairs behind her, assured the house was put to bed for the night. She helped him strip off, and he dropped like a stone onto his bed. “You happy, Kate?”

  “I am, Carter.”

  He woke, as predicted, around two. The sleep had rejuvenated him, and he might have lain there, simply enjoyed unexpected downtime, except there was a lush woman in his bed. Schooling his anxious dick, he hustled into the shower, wincing at his gamey aroma. And Kathleen—Kate—had actually slept with him.

  He’d take her at her word and tease her out of sleep, build arousal. After rinsing off, he grabbed a towel and passed it over his skin. Merely thinking of her had him erect and achingly hard.