It's Your Love (Wyoming Kisses 2)

by Charlene Bright

  His pulse was hot and fast through his veins, and he wanted nothing more than to either lunge at her and strip her naked beneath him or to run from the room and hide in his bed until the storm blew over and he could take her back into town. Knowing neither was an option, he just held his breath and waited for something to break the spell.

  Chapter 11 - The Smell of Sulfur

  Longing. There was no other description for what passed between Amanda and Ryder in that long moment in which time stopped. They shared a million “what ifs” in that space of time, and Amanda knew that one of them had to bring them back to reality before they fell into the delusion of an alternate universe where it would be completely acceptable to jump in bed together.

  So, as painful as it was, and as much as she regretted it, she cleared her throat and shattered the bubble. She didn’t turn away, and neither did he. That would have been like tearing your ACL, something agonizing, and she couldn’t make herself go that far. Instead, she asked quietly, “Why aren’t you married?”

  It was an appropriate question based on the previous conversation, but it was jarring enough to finish snapping them out of the haze. Ryder blinked and then smiled playfully. “I thought you would have figured that out by now.”

  “Humor me,” she told him.

  “I’m obviously not the suave poet who comes in and sweeps women off their feet. Hell, I’m more likely to slam the door behind me in a moment of rage than notice a woman behind me and hold it open for her.”

  Amanda rolled her eyes, settling back into the back-and-forth conversation again. “Are you trying to tell me women give you a wide berth? Somehow I doubt it. And don’t even try to tell me you’ve never dated.”

  “I’ve dated,” he admitted. “Not much, though.” He shrugged. “I was always busy on the ranch, and then I was busy helping take care of my mother and being a fireman. When she died, I had to take care of the ranch, be fire chief, and take care of my dad. After he went, it just seemed like I was supposed to be alone.” He looked away, and there was a rueful smirk on his face. “Now, I’m almost thirty and set in my ways. No woman wants to deal with a man who’s been alone as long as I have. I’m not trainable anymore. I’m past that point. Any woman I could get would be settling for me.”

  “Wow,” she said, giving him a mischievous smile. “Here I thought you were this confident man, and you just completely ruined my whole image of you.”

  He blew a raspberry at her. “Shut up. You asked. What about you, Miss Judgmental? Let’s see if your first answer is good enough or if I make you try again and then tell you how badly you failed.”

  She laughed. Even when he wasn’t trying hard, Ryder could find a way to amuse her. Calming, she told him, “I’m waiting.”

  “For what? Love’s first kiss? Or for Prince Charming to come with your other glass slipper?”

  “No!” She laughed harder and couldn’t answer until she recovered. “I have goals I want to achieve. I’m almost 28, and I want to make partner before my birthday. That gives me two years to dive into my career while I look for a good match. I should be 30 by the time I find the right man; then we’ll get married, and I’ll spend a year preparing for my break in politics. Then, we’ll have kids, and I’ll climb the political ladder.”

  Ryder scowled. “You make it sound like you’re going to interview candidates for the role of your husband.”

  Amanda knew a lot of people in this day and age didn’t agree with her point of view, but she explained, “Half of marriages end in divorce, Ryder. A marriage for love carries a lot less merit than a union between allies. If I marry a man who shares my views and my values, we’ll be life partners, and that’s going to be stronger and last. We don’t have to be in love to like and respect each other.”

  His eyes sparkled as he said, “Wow. And here I thought you were this passionate person who wanted to be swept off her feet. You just ruined my entire image of you.”

  She giggled and tossed her wadded-up napkin at him. But something in his face seemed sad, and she wondered what she’d said that created that underlying somber feeling.

  “What if you fell in love?” he asked, sounding a bit wistful. “I mean, what if you met someone before the wedding date you’ve already set that you fell head over heels in love with? Would it change your plan?”

  Amanda didn’t know how to answer that. She’d never thought about it before. “I don’t know. I can’t imagine that happening. It takes so long to get to know someone that I can’t see falling in love before I find the man I’m going to marry.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “And what if, four or five years down the road, you’re happily in this union of yours with a man you respect but don’t love, and you fall in love with someone else? I don’t mean you’re looking for love. Maybe you just happen to work with this guy, or you meet him at some political rally or whatever. And you realize he’s the man you love?”

  “I would never think of anyone else like that,” she said definitively. But inside, she wondered. She hadn’t considered that a possibility because she’d always assumed you had to look for love, just like you had to notice someone to be attracted to them. But she’d already proven that you couldn’t control that reaction. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be having such a hard time staying on the hearth on the opposite side of the coffee table from Ryder. So how did she know that love wasn’t involuntary?

  “You seem pretty sure of yourself.” His lips twitched, and she knew he was trying to hide a smile.

  But she was done with the question and turned the tables before the match lit the fire inside her again. “Do you think you’ll ever fall in love?”

  “God, I hope not.” He laughed. “I watched what happened to my friend, Noah, when he finally fell for his fiancé. He was in such deep hell that he walked around smelling like sulfur all the time. In fact, the stench is just now starting to fade.”

  “See? It’s not such a pleasant thought,” she told him, feeling a little less uncertain. She couldn’t believe someone like Ryder could make her feel insecure about plans she’d had for years.

  “Well, that part of it would suck, sure. But if you survive it, you get what Noah and Zoe have now. And I’ll admit, I’m jealous of how happy they are. I can’t remember the last time I was that happy.” There it was again, the longing, and it touched a part of Amanda’s soul that made her avert her eyes, assuring they wouldn’t lock gazes again. She might not be able to resist a second time.

  For her own benefit as much as his, she said, “I just think it’s a fool’s dream. I like certainty, and there is nothing predictable about love.” She stood and started gathering dishes. “You cooked, I’ll clean,” she said. It was a direct order, letting Ryder know she didn’t expect or want him to follow her into the kitchen. She needed a few minutes to sort her thoughts from her feelings. There was no reason to get emotional, but she seemed to be on the verge of some sort of personal breakdown.

  Now wasn’t the time. She couldn’t afford to lose track of her purpose here. She was stuck with Ryder in this house because of a deadly storm that was still going strong outside, and there was no chance of leaving anytime soon. And he was the reason she’d come to Five Forks, but it wasn’t to have some fling or to start something that could only end badly. It was to get him to sell his ranch. She didn’t like it, now that she saw his attachment to it and could almost feel and smell the memories the place held. And that was without even seeing the whole property. But it was her job, and she was going to do it.

  Or she was going to bring down a corporation that had far overstepped its boundaries and crossed the line of the law. Either way, a personal involvement with anyone here, especially Ryder, compromised her credibility and distracted her. Amanda was a career woman, and she was going to keep her eye on the prize.

  Even if that prize suddenly seemed more like honorable mention instead of a blue ribbon.

  Chapter 12 - The Burning Light of Day

  Sunrise finally brought an end to the
worst of the raging blizzard, and Ryder awoke to pretty snow flurries outside his window. His mood wasn’t nearly as attractive. He’d slept poorly and not long enough. The usual dreams had kept him tossing and turning for a while, and he’d woken up and gone out to the kitchen for a drink of milk from the carton and a smoke.

  As he’d stood there brooding over the nightmarish images of ghostly parents dwelling in the walls, he’d glanced toward the spare bedroom across the house, finding the door cracked open. As if they had a mind of their own, his feet had carried him toward the room, and his hand had pushed the door open a little wider. He’d gazed at Amanda’s sleeping form in the bed his mother and father had shared for so long, seeing how at peace she was. He wondered what she dreamed of, if it was that burgeoning political career of hers or having a reasonable conversation with the husband she didn’t love about the best private school for their children. Or was it getting all of the contracts signed by the ranchers here so she could present them to Fillmore Investments with that beautiful, bright smile of hers?

  Their conversation had disturbed him, and he found himself wondering why he cared how she would react to falling in love. And why he was suddenly so jealous of what Noah had. He’d never cared until now, and it didn’t make sense for him to start paying attention, unless maybe he was just having an early midlife crisis.

  With bleary eyes and resentment at his own thoughts, Ryder had forced himself back to his room and under the covers. He’d lain awake for more than an hour before sheer exhaustion overtook him, and then his dreams had been just as terrifying, this time bringing him images of a future where he wasn’t alone and Amanda was there with him. Except that he stood in the place of the husband she didn’t love, and he discovered she’d married him to get her hands on the ranch. And because he was a respected authority in the community who could help her pursue her own political career.

  He’d woken again in a cold sweat and gone to splash hot water on his face. It didn’t take as long to get back to sleep the second time, but the dreamless sleep that ensued was just as disturbing as anything else, and his internal clock thankfully woke him with the first rays of light breaking through the clouds at the horizon.

  He stood up and looked out at his property. It looked like sixteen or eighteen inches had fallen, and the world was blanketed in white. He checked the electricity, but of course it wasn’t back on. With a sigh of resignation, he pulled on a pair of jeans and an old sweatshirt, stepped into his slippers, and headed to the kitchen to start brewing coffee. He was going to need plenty of it to stay awake today. His first order of business would be to check on his pigs, and then…what? He sure wasn’t going anywhere, and that meant an entire day in the house with Amanda.

  He was going to go stir crazy. He couldn’t waste the propane and watch TV, which was the easiest distraction. And he didn’t have anything to read that was of any interest. He was at an utter and complete loss. He wanted to get busy with his investigation already, but there was nothing he could do without internet or the ability to scrounge around in the forest, which he couldn’t even drive to at this point.

  As the coffee brewed, he took a couple of store-bought frozen sausage biscuits and tossed them in the microwave. That, the fridge, and the coffee pot were the only things aside from the few bulbs connected to the generator. He had also added the extension cord that Amanda could use to power her computer or charge her phone.

  He went to the living room and found a few embers still red and glowing, so he put some kindling in and poked at it, getting the fire to ignite again, and then he added a couple of logs. The microwave beeped, and he smiled. The smell of food, coffee, and burning wood made this place smell like home again. He remembered when he was young and his parents would put some Three Dog Night on the old turntable and sing while they cooked breakfast and built the fire. It was one of his favorite things as a kid, and he could almost feel his mother’s hand in his as they danced together.

  On a whim, he opened the cabinet holding the old albums, picked up the vinyl that he’d enjoyed so much, and plugged the turntable into the extension cord. He started the music and felt that old familiar joy spread through him, vastly improving his mood.

  He’d forgotten momentarily that he had a guest, and as a yawning Amanda emerged from the other bedroom, he started to apologize. But she was smiling and singing quietly. It made him grin, and for just a second, Ryder was seven again. He forgot all his worries, all his adult responsibilities, and he felt giddy with the chance to just be silly.

  He walked up to her, turning up the volume on the way, and before she could protest, he took one of her hands in his and wrapped his other arm around her waist. He started dancing, glad that he’d learned a little rhythm and grace from his mother, and Amanda gave him a curious look but didn’t fight. She followed his lead, still singing, louder now, and he let go of all his inhibitions. He twirled her around and brought her back into the form, making her giggle. The sound was like little bells ringing, and he wanted to hear it again.

  He spun her around twice, and she laughed, loud and breathless. He started laughing too, and soon they were both belting out the words and acting like a couple of teenagers who’d just found out that school was canceled for the day. When the song ended, Ryder found it hard to release her, and he slowly let her hand slide from his, staring at her with an endless smile as he took note of the flush in her cheeks.

  He withdrew his arm from around her and started to turn toward the kitchen to get them both coffee and breakfast. But she caught his hand in hers, and when he turned back to look at her with a question, she stepped forward, pushed up on her toes, and brushed her lips against his. It took him completely by surprise, but his body’s reaction was instantaneous, and he wrapped her in a tight embrace, answering her with a much more desperate kiss.

  But something about the intimate gesture and the desire that consumed him broke the spell the morning had cast, and they shoved away from each other at the same time. Amanda put a hand to her lips, and Ryder watched her chest heave up and down as he rested his hands on his hips, not knowing what else to do with them.

  She didn’t say anything, and she didn’t look away from him, so he finally growled in a low tone, “I made breakfast. Sort of. Microwave version. With fresh coffee.”

  She nodded, and when he turned and left the room for the kitchen, he knew she followed him. She took the two coffee cups she’d washed the night before from the drainer and filled them while he tossed the sausage biscuits on a couple of plates. They sat down at the kitchen table, Amanda apparently feeling it was less intimate just like he did.

  What the hell had he been thinking? How was he supposed to recover from this? They’d been fine last night. His issues overnight didn’t concern Amanda, and they could have continued with the easy banter all day. But he’d had to go and screw it up. How and why were beyond him, and he didn’t blame her for anything. Maybe she’d initiated a kiss, but it had been very different. For all he knew, it was just a simple thanks for a good time. He was the one who had turned it into something sensual.

  “I’m not mad.” He looked up at her quiet statement and frowned. She gave a sad smile. “I’m not. I enjoyed dancing with you. You looked carefree and happy for the first time. I wanted to be a part of it, and I got carried away. You didn’t do anything wrong, Ryder.”

  He snorted. “I appreciate that, but you’re full of crap, Amanda. I should have left it alone.”

  “Well, I can’t really complain. It’s not like you’re a bad kisser or anything.” She bit her lip and blushed. “I can’t say I remember any guy ever kissing me like that.”

  “Like what?” He frowned.

  She gazed into the distance thoughtfully. “Like you really wanted it and had something to prove. Like you needed to show me you had every right to do it.” She laughed shortly. “You’re a spectacularly good kisser, actually.”

  He grunted. “Thanks.” But if he was so good, why had she pushed away? He had no right
to ask but he really wanted to know the answer.

  “I hope you aren’t angry,” she asked, sounding hesitant. “I mean, I only pushed away because you had me hot and bothered, and I didn’t want to step out of line.” Well, there was his answer, and it wasn’t at all what he’d expected. And he wasn’t sure it was any better. To know that she’d been as close to crossing that line as he was only made him regret it more. He would rather keep a chasm between them than build a bridge that had a gap between the two sides so small they could reach out and touch their fingertips.

  “Me, too.” He wanted to kick himself for the admission the second it was out of his mouth. Why couldn’t his brain function properly? Sure, he was short on sleep, but he had been for weeks now, and he’d still been able to control what came out and what stayed in.

  He pressed his lips in a thin line to keep anything else from spilling out without his specific intent and turned away from her. But she didn’t say anything, and he couldn’t help glancing back to see her reaction. It was a mistake. Her eyes were on fire again, just like they had been last night. It had been easy to blame it on the strange situation and the intimacy created by the storm outside last night. Today, though, in the light of day, it stared him boldly in the face, and Ryder didn’t know if he could let it pass. And, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

  “Why do you look at me like that?” he asked, the words too strong to hold back.