Real Men Do It Better

by Lora Leigh, Susan Donovan, Lori Wilde, Carrie Alexander

  Jorey grinned. “This is a fluke. You usually can’t spend a whole day in New Mexico without seeing the blue sky we’re so famous for. And the light here … it’s amazing.”

  “Then why is it raining so much?”

  “November and December make up the rainy season. Some years, that amounts to a quarter inch. Other years, it’s like this—a real mess.”

  Kate said nothing for a while, just listened to the squeak of the rocking chairs and the rhythm of their breathing. “What was that poem you said out there today? It was beautiful.”

  “Yeah, it is.” Jorey nodded. “It’s part of a chant the Zuni people use to pray under the night sky. I’ve always loved it. It’s so simple, but it says it all.”

  It took her several long moments, but eventually Kate said what she’d been leading up to this whole conversation. “I am a complete idiot. What I did was stupid, and I’m sorry!”

  Jorey shrugged, never interrupting his steady rock. “Nothing is stupid if you learn something from it.”

  Kate laughed at the kindness in his voice. Jorey almost sounded like he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

  “It was a stupid, stupid, stupid thing to do and you know it. Sometimes I amaze myself at how bullheaded I can be.” She truly didn’t want this, but the tears started again, and Kate used the baggy sleeve of the robe to wipe her cheeks. “I didn’t even know where I was going, for God’s sake! Where was I headed? What was I thinking? Now I don’t even have a change of underwear!”

  “Underwear is overrated,” Jorey said, trying unsuccessfully to hide his amusement—she’d already gotten a glimpse of the skin crinkling around his eye and the arrival of that dimple. “Besides—” Jorey turned to her, then reached out to tuck a piece of hair behind Kate’s ear. “My damsel-in-distress technique was getting a little rusty. I haven’t had to snatch a babe from the jaws of death for weeks now.”

  She let go with a little snort of a laugh and continued to wipe her cheeks, trying not to feel too much of anything about the fact that Jorey hadn’t stopped with that single touch of her hair. He was caressing her—his fingertips stroked her from the top of her head to where her hair fell on her shoulders. And she loved it. It felt wonderful—even though it was completely inappropriate. It felt too intimate. She hadn’t given him permission to touch her like that. She cried some more, and the more she cried, the more Jorey’s hand soothed her, permission or no.

  Kate never cried. She couldn’t stomach it in others and especially herself. The idea that she was crying in front of Jorey made her cringe. She’d spent her whole life proving to people that she wasn’t a wimp, that for a woman her size she packed a wallop. She had brains, guts, beauty, savviness. She’d never needed anyone. Brad was a nice addition, but he hadn’t been key to her satisfaction. She knew better than to give a man that much power over her happiness. It had always been her goal to be at the helm of her own ship.

  So why did she suddenly feel like she was the captain of the Titanic? Why had she grieved so when Brad left her? Was she aching for what she’d never had instead of what she she’d lost? Was she crying because she was beginning to understand the depth of her emptiness—an emptiness she had with or without Brad?

  “Maybe there was a reason you came here when you did, Kate.” Jorey took his hand from her hair and placed it on her forearm, where she could feel the heat of his touch through the thin cotton fabric of the robe.

  Kate sniffled. “The reason I’m here is that I never even looked at the dates on the brochure, and our office assistant—Monica’s nephew—was in charge of my itinerary. Spencer is always sleep deprived from playing with his punk rock band in seedy L.A. bars, so details tend to slip through the cracks.”

  “Actually, Kate,” Jorey said, the amusement clear in his voice. “What I was getting at was that it was destiny that you came when you did.”

  His words made her slightly uncomfortable. Was he hitting on her? Sure, the comments about her nipples and the flirty way he’d been teasing her—calling her Princess—that could possibly be considered hitting. But this? This was definitely hitting. Kate changed the subject. “Anyway, who is Monica to tell me I need to repair my spirituality? It’s none of her business what’s going on inside me.”

  “Unless it affects her bottom line. Then it’s her business—literally.”

  Kate dragged her gaze from the dramatic landscape to Jorey’s face. His eyes were kind, but the slight smile on his lips indicated he knew exactly what he was doing. He was prodding her, egging her on. It seemed to be a good-natured prodding, affectionate even, but he sure was enjoying himself.

  “Maybe I was sent here to entertain Jorey Matheny, the lonely, vegetarian innkeeper.”

  Jorey’s smile spread wide across his face. “I really like you, Kate,” he said matter-of-factly.

  Oh, what the hell, Kate thought to herself. I can be just as direct as he can. “I like you, too, Jorey.”

  “Then talk to me. Tell me about you.”

  “Uh…” Kate tucked her feet under her bottom and the rocker moved as she did. She fought the trembling she felt in her chin. She didn’t want to cry anymore. She felt like such a wimp. “Things are kind of a mess for me right now.”

  “In what way?”

  She took a big breath. “About three months ago, I completely spaced on a meeting and lost Monica’s biggest client,” she whispered.

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah. That was right after my boyfriend ran off with a woman so young that she decorated her bedroom in the SpongeBob SquarePants period.”

  Jorey’s eyebrows arched high in surprise. “That’s gotta hurt.”

  “Then my brother decided he was a woman trapped in a man’s body.”

  “Sounds uncomfortable.”

  Seeing as how she was being spontaneous, Kate decided to move her arm from under Jorey’s touch and just go straight for hand-holding. When she wrapped her fingers around Jorey’s, he let go with an “Mmmm” of approval. “I totaled my Range Rover.”

  “So you said.” He gently squeezed her fingers.

  “I broke my nose. You should have seen it a few days after—I looked like road kill.”

  “It’s healing great.”

  “I think I’m really starting to hate my job. Actually, I think I’ve always hated my job but figured everybody did, so why shouldn’t I have to follow the same rules?”

  Jorey chuckled softly. “We can make our own rules, Kate.”

  “And then—he’s okay now—but my dad had a heart attack.” Kate gulped back a sob and used her free hand to brush her cheek dry.

  “Ahhh.” When Jorey cupped Kate’s hand in both of his, warm sparks of awareness traveled through her body. “Now there’s a topic I know a whole lot about, sweetheart.”

  Kate jerked back slightly to stare at him. Jorey had turned his body to face her and it was obvious he was not joking. “You’ve had a heart attack?” she asked, her voice high with surprise. “Mr. Barley Vegetable Soup?”

  He chuckled and squeezed her hand tighter. “Seven years and three months ago. I was thirty-eight, working like a madman, sleeping five hours a night if I was lucky, paying no attention to what I ate or how negative my thoughts were. I didn’t get out and move my body and I didn’t have the guts to get out of a marriage that had never fed my soul—your basic textbook setup for blowing a gasket.”

  Kate felt her mouth fall open.

  “It’s really true what they say—something like that can be a wake-up call, a reminder that we are largely responsible for our own well-being, that some things in this life really are more important than others.”

  Her hand in his suddenly felt too intimate, and Kate pulled it away. She crossed her arms over her chest and allowed all the new information to sink in. Jorey was divorced. He was on the mend from a serious illness. He used to live the kind of life she still did. “So you’re not from here?”

  Jorey laughed. “Nope. I grew up in San Bernardino and went to UCLA for my degree in
architecture. Lived in Palo Alto for several years, then settled in Seattle. I only bought this place five years ago, after my life went to hell. New Mexico has allowed me to heal. Windwalker Lodge was my medicine.”

  Kate nodded, not sure what to say. There was no such thing as small talk with Jorey, and she felt like she was using muscles she didn’t even know she had.

  “So you’ve been fixing it up?”

  “A little bit each year during the off-season.”

  “The kitchen is beautiful. Did you do that yourself?”

  “I did.”

  Kate was quiet for a long moment. She could hear Jorey’s steady and slow breath next to her. “You’re healthy now though, right? Your heart is good?”

  “I’m better than good.”

  “So…” Kate tried to sound casual, though her heart was beating fast. She wanted to know everything about this man. She wasn’t sure when she’d decided that. “How long were you married, Jorey?”

  “Nine years. Have you ever been married?”

  Kate snorted. “Oh God, no.”

  “Not the marrying kind?” Jorey produced a lopsided smile.

  “Sure I am.” Kate hugged herself tighter. “The snag has always been the fact that the right man has never wanted to marry me.”

  Jorey’s grin expanded. “I’m sure it’s time-consuming interviewing all those applicants.”

  “Ha.” Kate shook her head. “Frankly, I think I scare men.”

  “It’s your aura, sweetheart.”

  She stared at him and blinked, letting the disappointment thud inside her. She realized Jorey was a bit eccentric, but she’d never had patience for the outlandish. “Please don’t tell me you’re into that stuff.”

  Jorey leaned back into the chair and rocked for a few minutes, a faraway look in his eyes. “You were really angry when you got here the other night.”

  “I was tired. I had to use the bathroom like you wouldn’t believe. And you left me standing on the porch in the cold.”

  He laughed. “I apologize for that. But it was more than just impatience—I could feel the negative energy pouring off of you. The next morning, in the daylight, I saw it in all its glory—anger and frustration and sadness in a rainbow of reds and purples and oranges. It was a physical manifestation. I could literally see it hovering around you.”

  Kate blinked. She had no idea what to say.

  “It’s very different today, Kate. It’s calmer. I see some green and blue. I can see your beauty today.” Jorey paused as if to consider whether he should continue. He did. “You are a beautiful woman, Kate.”

  “Thank you.” She swallowed hard. She was turned on, touched by his sweetness, and very, very interested. “While I’m at it, I should probably thank you for saving my life, shouldn’t I?”

  Kate untucked her legs and leaned close to Jorey. Her strategy was to give him a sweet and chaste kiss of appreciation. Like everything else recently, it didn’t quite happen according to plan.

  Kate saw the look of surprise in Jorey’s eyes as she brought her face to his. She gave him a friendly smile just before she pressed her lips to his.

  All rightee, then.

  Jorey’s mouth was hot and sweet. His lips parted on contact, and she both heard and felt him moan his pleasure. In an instant, the kiss had gone from friendly to flaming. His hands were in her hair. She was half in his lap. He licked at the inside of her mouth and bit her lips. She groaned out her pleasure and sucked on his tongue. Then, as fast as it started, Kate stopped it.

  “Yes. So…” Kate retreated back to her rocker, her whole body vibrating with desire. Her hands trembled as she adjusted the lapel of the bathrobe. “As I was saying, thank you for saving my life.”

  Jorey stared at her and blinked a few times. “Not a problem,” he croaked out, beginning to rise from the rocker. He stopped, pressing his palms to his knees, still staring at her. “Would you like some tea?”

  “Sure,” she said.

  Jorey rubbed a hand over his smooth chin, as if its hairless state fascinated him as much as it did her. He shook his head and smiled. “You should know that in many of the Pueblo Indian traditions, if you save someone’s life they become part of you forever. The bond can never be broken, not by distance or even death.”

  Kate could barely breathe. She didn’t know what to say, and was shocked to realize how much Jorey excited her. It was probably his voice. Or that dimple. Or those damn lounge pants.

  No, it wasn’t any of those things. It was because he was the most intriguing, complex, handsome man she’d ever met, and that kiss was better than most of the actual sex she’d had in last fifteen years of her life.

  “Really?” Kate asked, quite breathless. “Is all that stuff true?”

  Jorey rose to his feet and gave a sheepish shrug. “Hell if I know, but it sure sounds good, doesn’t it?”

  3

  Alone in the kitchen, Jorey put the kettle on the stove, leaned his hands on the countertop, and took a few deep, steadying breaths. What the hell was he doing? If he kept this up, he was fairly certain he’d be in bed with Kate within the hour. Of course, she could always say no. He’d been shot down his share of times, and he’d just bet that Kate was well versed in the art. But there was something happening here with her. He felt it. Her brittle outer shell was cracking, and inside was real warmth, humor, and a whole lot of sexy. Though she might argue otherwise, he’d noticed that Kate’s face was an open window to the complex spirit that lived within her. Her eyes revealed sharp intelligence, stubbornness, and a vulnerability he found irresistible. Despite the hard-ass exterior, Kate possessed a refined beauty that intoxicated him. Jorey groaned out loud and raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. The idea that his ratty old robe had been in direct contact with her nubile flesh all afternoon was making him crazy. It was also making his dick hard, and not for the first time since she’d come banging on his door. Jorey squeezed his eyes shut, remembering how he’d been so turned on by the sight of that angry, strikingly attractive nymph on his porch two nights ago that he had to delay opening the door.

  As he gathered the mugs, honey, and spoons, he confirmed to himself that Kate’s aura had indeed mellowed. It was now a manageable halo of purples and blues, outlined by the thinnest red overlay. The muscles of her face were beginning to relax and the dark circles under her eyes had faded. He’d seen her soft pink lips part in a genuine smile several times that afternoon. Even her voice had changed, and she’d been talking in a low, sleepy voice that made him think of secrets shared after sex—intimate and erotic. Oh yes, Kate was a babe, but for the first time, he was beginning to see the real beauty in her.

  Jorey laughed at himself. He’d been just about to return to the porch when he realized Kate would have to wait for her tea, seeing as how he was once again afflicted with a case of hard-on related bad manners.

  He sat down to wait it out, thinking this through. He’d never put much credence in coincidence. He’d seen enough to know that things usually happened for a reason. So there had to be a reason Kate Dreyfuss was delivered to his doorstep when she was, commanded to stay put by the forces of nature, and left stranded with only one pair of underwear to her name. Some things were just too perfect to be coincidence.

  But the rain couldn’t last forever, fluke or no. Jorey knew the sky would clear, bringing with it a sharp, blue world and dry roads. He and Archie would have the bridge repaired in a matter of hours. And there’d be no reason for Kate to linger at Windwalker Lodge—no reason for her to give herself time to rest, think, and just be. No reason for her to stay awhile longer with him.

  Unless he gave her one.

  With that goal in mind, Jorey found that he was presentable enough to return to the back porch. The sun was about to set behind the house, and the air had turned chilly. He placed the mugs on a table and turned to Kate with a smile. “Are you cold? I can get you a—”

  Jorey stopped in midsentence, the oddest sensation of tenderness spreading throug
h him as he looked at her. Kate was asleep, with her cheek pressed against the slats of the rocker. Her mouth was slightly open and—oh, boy—so was the neckline of the robe. Seeing her like this, so pure and quiet, made him want to rock her in his arms and protect her until his last breath.

  His knees felt weak. Jorey collapsed into the rocker next to hers, put his chin in his hands, and simply observed.

  It was fascinating how much activity took place in her stillness. The creamy peach flesh of her breasts rose and fell with her soft breath. A few strands of dark hair ruffled in the puff of breeze. Her thick eyelashes twitched as she dreamed. He could see her pulse beat just under the pale skin at her throat. Clearly, almost dying could take a lot out of a person.

  Jorey chuckled to himself, stretched and yawned, and got up to open the sliding doors to the lodge. He quietly returned to Kate, bent down, and positioned his forearm under her knees. She stirred but didn’t wake, so he slid his other arm around her back and lifted. As he adjusted Kate’s weight, she grunted slightly and nuzzled her nose and mouth into his T-shirt. She was a solid little armful, and the feel of her thighs against the inside of his wrist just about did him in.

  “Mmmmm.” Kate snuggled closer and threw her arm around his neck, which struck him as a rather advanced move for a woman who was supposed to be asleep.

  Jorey used his foot to shut the sliding door behind him and carried his warm bundle of captive to his bedroom, where he carefully lowered her onto the sheets.

  “Please stay.”

  Her whisper startled Jorey, and he pulled his arm out from under her back and straightened up enough to see her face. Those eyes were wide open, and the ice blue he’d once seen there had transformed into a color that was hot and alive and dancing with need.

  “Do you always talk in your sleep, Princess?”

  She laughed, and Jorey enjoyed seeing how easily her face blossomed in laughter. “It’s handy when I’d prefer not to be accountable for what I’m saying.”

  “Really now?” Jorey brought his fingers up to brush the side of Kate’s face. Her skin was smooth and warm to his touch, and at close range he could make out a million details of her, details he planned to memorize. Like the tiny nick of a scar below her left eye, the dainty crests of her upper lip, the fragile swirl of her ear. “Are you going to give me an example?”